Greg giggled and quickly took a long last hit off the joint, pretty much using it up. As he stared at Jesse he realized that his buddy hadn’t even noticed his eight-pack abs, shadowed though they were by his melon pecs. Actually they looked kind of like ten-packs.
Now Jesse eagerly reached out of camera range and started shucking his jeans. Greg tried to sense what Jesse really wanted. He could feel Jesse’s heart pounding. He knew Jesse was expecting his cock to be bigger—a lot bigger—but he could sense Jesse wanted … more. The thrill of having a different body when he shucked his pants and the amazing, intense feeling of two bulging, muscular arms on each side resting against each other made him open to more than just a bigger cock.
Greg smiled. More than fine with him.
Jesse was staring down with an awestruck look on his face, like a kid at Christmas who just opened a gift more amazing then he’d ever dreamed. “Dude, what am I going to do with all these legs?” Jesse burst out ecstatically.
“Let me see!” Greg said, leaning forward as he felt his heart pounding hard in his chest. But instead of tipping the webcam down to show his new bottom half, Jesse somehow literally “let him see…—Greg’s vision swam for a second, like his sight was pushing through a tangible barrier, and then he was seeing what Jesse saw as he looked down: three beautiful muscle-hunk legs, and—fuck, underneath them, another set of three legs!
“Dude, your legs are so fucking hot,” Greg said.
“Fuck my legs,” Jesse said. “Look at those cocks!”
In the thrill of seeing all those bulging legs Greg hadn’t even focused on all the boners bursting out between Jesse’s legs—two on the left and two on the right, and the same number thrusting up from the back legs!
“God, Jess, they’re huge!”
“I know!!” Jesse cried out. “Dude these things are so big and thick and heavy—I can’t even see my abs!”
Greg realized he could feel what Jesse was feeling, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He could feel Jesse’s hard cocks as they jumped restlessly, his front cocks slapping against his abs and his back cocks thrusting between Jesse’s muscular front legs. The thick muscles of his six arms—six arms!! fuck yeah!—felt amazing pressed together as he leaned back. He could feel Jesse’s ecstatic love of his new body and the thrill as he realized he was almost fucking himself with his back cocks between his front legs. He felt Jesse squeeze his front thighs against his hard, thick back boners and they moaned simultaneously. Greg almost lost track of his own body—he felt it recede to the back of his perception.
“Duuude,” Greg and Jesse breathed together. Greg and Jesse reached with a left arm and a right arm toward his growing boners—then they realized together that there was more they could do, and while Jesse started stroking off two of his front cocks with his front-most hands, Greg slowly asserted control over the middle arms, using them to stroke the other two impossibly hard front cocks. Greg delighted almost as much in feeling his biceps and triceps brush against the flexing muscles of their other arms as he did wrapping many-fingered hands around Jesse’s enormous cocks and gently starting to stroke.
They stroked the four cocks in perfect rhythm, while his rear cocks thrust hard between his precum-slick jockboy legs. Before they realized it Jesse and Greg were suddenly seconds from cumming. Without thinking Jesse leaned forward and took one of his cocks into his mouth and swallowed a load while he pounded out cum onto himself and over his shoulder and down his throat for at least two minutes.
Jesse and Greg leaned back in Jesse’s chair, their eyes closed, basking in the moment. “Damn that cum tasted good,” Greg sighed.
“Yeah,” Jesse breathed in his ear. His breath was warm and he felt a thrill run through his body—or was it Jesse’s body? He could still feel all the arms and legs and cocks, but—something was different—
Greg frowned and opened his eyes. Jesse’s head was right next to his, and Jesse was staring at him with a huge grin.
“Welcome to my body, dude,” Jesse said, and Greg knew Jesse meant it—he was thrilled to share this experience with his best friend. They kissed, tentatively at first, then passionately, while Greg used “his” arms—the middle arms—to grope their overmuscled tight teen body all over.
They broke the kiss, and together they glanced at the screen, Jesse happily leaning his head against Greg’s. Greg was surprised to see he was still there in his room, slowly stroking an 18-inch surfboard-shaped boner. The other Greg looked glassy-eyed—most, but not all, of Greg’s consciousness was here with Jesse, immensely enjoying the feel of Jesse’s amazing body and the way Jesse’s head was resting against his. Greg realized he could distantly feel the sensations of his other body, and it was so immersed in hormones and so stoned/horny that sensing his other body’s mind boiled a new wave of arousal through their body, their heavy cocks springing again in a few quick jerks and jumps to full attention.
Greg laughed and immediately leaned forward to take one of the monster cocks into his mouth, reveling in the luscious taste and feel of a cock they could both sense—Jesse moaned deeply, feeling Greg’s tongue around their massive cock even as he guided another cock into his mouth. Now it was Greg’s turn to moan—he was giving head to an amazingly awesome cock—two cocks, because he could feel Jesse giving head too!—while at the same time getting not one but two fuse-blowing blow jobs. They didn’t even tough their other precum-leaking cocks.
They escalated their blowjobs, taking more and more of their own cocks—Jesse’s lanky body was amazingly flexible, and before long they were swallowing their monster cocks almost to the hilts, feeling their other warm telephone pole boners against their cheeks, drooling precum in their hair.
Suddenly their big balls surged and all eight of their cocks swelled up and exploded, covering their bent-over torso with hot white jizz front and back while they deliriously swallowed a huge amount of cum. Their cocks stayed hard for a while and they stayed bent over, immensely enjoying keeping the two cocks they were swallowing inside their mouths and throats as if they belonged there, while gently rubbing their other, cum-covered dicks—then suddenly they realized they were getting close again! They started stroking and throat-fucking their cocks even harder. One of their extra-wide front cocks fit perfectly in the narrow space between their necks, and the shared feeling of pushing that cum-thick monster through the narrow crevasse between their muscular necks is what drove them over the edge this time, cumming just as impressively as they had before!
As the intoxicating, mind-blowing sensation of cumming from eight cocks slowly subsided they glanced again at Greg’s other body on screen. He was still mindlessly stroking his 20-incher and staring at the new Jesse/Greg, but his tee-shirt was soaked in huge quantities of cum and his face was slick with it.
“Your other bod is, like, permanently horny,” Jesse said with a grin.
“And permanently stoned!”
“Haha, totally,” Jesse laughed. “Dude—oh my fucking god, he’s still changing us!”
They stared down at their torso, which now had two stacked rows of pecs, each supporting six arms! And the pecs were huge, actual spheres of rock-hard muscle. Greg and Jesse started getting aroused again groping their four incredible pecs with more ten-fingered hands than they could count. Their pecs were now in the way, so they couldn’t see their groins from this angle, but it felt like more and bigger cocks were lurching rapidly back to unshakable erection.
“…some!” they cheered, pumping twelve (!) fists in the air and feeling their cocks surge and jump and unexpectedly blast yet another quart of cum all over their growing body and everything else.
“Dude, we should shower,” Greg said.
“Totally.” With some difficulty they got to their feet, there were still only six, somewhat to their surprise—then making chance eye contact with the other Greg their balance abruptly shifted as they readjusted to having nine legs.
“Fuck yeah.” Jesse moaned.
“Fuck yeah!!” Greg echoed.
They took their time walking across the room, enjoying the feel of thigh muscles brushing each other, half-hardons bouncing in front of them—when suddenly they realized they were looking at the doorjamb, right in their eyes.
“Shit, how fucking tall are we?” Jesse shouted. They were thrilled to have to duck their long, extra-lanky body under the doorframe. They padded elatedly down the hall to the bathroom, ducking under a low-hanging hallway light fixture that Jesse had barely even noticed before.
Of course the shower barely fit them—with 9 feet it felt like there was a convention standing in the tub—but this lanky, flexible body was easy to clean, especially with 12 long arms. They luxuriated in the steam a while and then reluctantly turned off the water, pulling a couple of towels off the bar to dry off a body with all sorts of unexpected nooks and crannies.
They were just about finished—Jesse was toweling dry his longer, thicker, shoulder-blade-length hair—when they heard something that made their heart start pounding all over again: Jesse’s younger brother slamming the front door and yelling out, “Jesse!!”
Greg and Jesse shared an alarmed look at the unmistakable sound of teenage feet pounding up the stairs. As stoked as they were about their shared, mutant body, with all its wonderful, crazy surplus of arms and legs and cocks (not to mention the fact that they were both, awesomely a part of the same body!), they definitely weren’t ready to let anyone else see their new look. Especially not Jesse’s nerdy 16-year-old kid brother Owen.
And then there was the little matter of the video link still open on Jesse’s laptop.
Gary was trying to make his mind work, not easy as it was still rather clouded with cannabis. A sudden revelation hit him. “Clothes!” he said, turning to look wide-eyed at his new body-mate.
Jesse blinked at him. “What, dude?” he asked, sounding confused but excited that Gary might have the answer.
Gary looked at that sweet face, so close to his own, and fought back an urge to kiss his buddy senseless. “Dude, remember before, I was imagining how your body is, like, held in by your clothes? So when you pull off your shirt, we get to see your real body, with the big chest and extra arms and stuff?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said, “but—wait, was that you picturing that, or how it really was? ‘Cause I—”
“Jesse!” Owen hollered from somewhere outside—probably Jesse’s room. He sounded pissed. “You’re supposed to drive me to the mall!”
“I’m in the shower!” Jesse called out automatically.
Greg winced. “Tell him to bring you your clothes,” he whispered. “It’s gotta bring us back to normal.”
Jesse struggled to catch up to him, staring at Greg with bright blue eyes that were just a bit bloodshot. Greg realized that somehow he’d gotten a stronger buzz from the weed, even though Greg had been the one actually smoking it, and he willed his buddy to see what he was trying to tell him. Abruptly he turned toward the closed door and called out again. “Hey! Angus! Bring me a shirt, will ya! And my jeans from the clean laundry!”
“Why should I?” his brother groused. He was in the hallway now, Greg guessed, probably hovering near the closed bathroom door.
“‘Cause it’ll get us out of here and back sooner!” Jesse shouted. Greg tried leaning away from his body-mate, but there wasn’t very far to go. “Unless you want to have a gander at my bare ass running back to my room! Sorry,” he added, the last word in a whispered undertone to Greg. Greg just conked his head against Jesse’s, kinda hard. “Ow!” Jesse whispered, but he favored Greg with a goofy grin—before doing the same thing right back at Greg. Greg silently mouthed his own, exaggerated Owww!!
“No way!” was Owen’s response. “Keep your hairy ass to yourself!” Acceding to the necessity of fetching Jesse’s duds, if only to ensure that very outcome, Owen’s footsteps trudged away.
Greg had never spent time at home with Jesse and his brother—all their time together was in person at school and on video link—and he’d never heard Jesse call his brother anything but ‘Owen’ or ‘buttwipe’ before. He had to ask. “Why do you call him ‘Angus’?” he asked in a low voice.
Jesse shrugged, which was kinda weird because he was shrugging the body Greg was a part of, shoulders going up on either side of their heads. “His B.O. smells like steak,” Jesse said.
“What?” Greg said.
“We need to get behind the door,” Jesse whispered suddenly. He was evidently now thinking a little more clearly than before. “Otherwise he’ll see us.” Greg nodded, and they stepped out of the tub and moved on nine big, bare feet across the cold bathroom tiles to stand behind the door. They were in position only just in time before a large knock sounded on the door right next to them.
Jesse opened the door with a random hand, no wider than a foot. A small stack of neatly folded clothes was thrust through at arm’s length, as of Owen was adamant he not see any Jesse-ass. Jesse snatched the proffered jeans and tee shirt and shoved the door firmly closed, Owen barely getting his arms out of the way in time with a yelp. They listened to him stomp toward his bedroom and slam the door, calling a final “Hurry up” before he did so.
Jesse was staring at the clothes on two of his many hands. There was a little line between his brows. “He knows I hate this shirt,” he muttered.
“Raw steak, or cooked?” Greg asked.
“Huh?” Jesse said, looking over at him.
“Raw steak, or cooked?” Greg repeated, more insistently.
“Dude, I dunno, medium rare,” Jesse said. “So how does this work?”
“How does what work?”
“I dunno, dude,” Greg exclaimed. “You put ‘em on, and we become normal.”
Jesse looked utterly dumbfounded. “How?” he said.
“I dunno how, dude? How do we share this body? How do we have twelve arms and nine legs and a hundred cocks?”
“No, stupid,” Jesse said, exasperated. “I mean, how do I put them on?” He dropped the tee shirt on the closed toilet lid and held up the fresh, clean-looking jeans. “I’m not going to fit into these.” He frowned, then looked down at their shared crotches, situated below their surprisingly narrow waist. “And it’s not a hundred,” he added. “It’s like…” He seemed to be tallying up, half out loud. “Three, six… eighteen?” he said, making it sound like a question.
Greg sighed, ignoring the cock-count for the moment. “I dunno how, Jess,” he said. “It worked before, didn’t it? When you had just the four arms? It worked then, right?” Or, wait—he was about to correct himself. That was just a fantasy Greg had had, right? But Jesse was nodding.
“Yah, you’re right,” he said. “It worked before.” With sudden resolution, Jesse started moving them so they were backed up against the wall, Greg helping once he cottoned on what he was doing. He seemed to control the middle leg in each three-leg row, just as he controlled the middle arms. Well, he was only a guest here.
Jesse still had the jeans, and now he very forthrightly shoved two of his front legs into them. As soon as his feet were inside the jeans all of their other legs vanished, and it was just the two legs (and a single fat cock between them) from the waist down. Or—no, not exactly. Directly behind those legs were two more, a little paler and not quite as defined, with their own pair of jeans being pulled up by invisible hands. Greg recognized his own legs immediately and gasped. “What?” said Jesse, who was focused on his own legs. Except that Jesse had started pulling the jeans on by lifting up two front legs, leaving his weight on the back two rows of legs. Only now that he had only two legs in front, and Greg’s two legs in back (still joined at their tight, still-shared waist), Jesse suddenly lost his balance and with an ungainly “Whoops!” they both tumbled awkwardly to the floor.
Jesse shook his head. “Dude, you okay?” he asked. Automatically, he finished pulling the jeans up, buttoning the waist and zipping the fly. The same things happened to the Greg-legs behind them, which meant that Jesse and Greg had their own separate legs and feet, both emerging from below their still-shared, twelve-armed, nicely muscled torso. Since they’d fallen against the tile floor against the wall, the result was that Jesse’s lower half was sort of sitting in Greg’s lap.
Greg immediately sprang a boner. Just one, but very potent, Greg thought. He drew his bare foot against the side of Jesse’s lower leg. Meanwhile Jesse, feeling Greg’s erection pressing against his newly denim-clad ass, grinned, wiggling his butt against the mighty hard-on even as he became obviously majorly hard himself around front.
“Nice,” Jesse said. “This is kinda fun this way.” He kissed Greg’s jaw and wiggled his butt some more.
“C’mon, finish greeting dressed,” Greg said. “The sooner you take care of your annoying, meat-flavored brother, the sooner we can, you know, explore and stuff.”
Jesse’s eyes lit up. “Good point!” he said. The toilet seat being fortunately still within reach, Jesse snatched up the shirt and held it up, apparently confirming that Owen had stuck him with a bottom-of-the-drawer offering. It was thick and maybe a little overlarge for Jesse’s normal body, definitely unflattering, especially as the color was a vile baby-shit brown. On the front in large white type it read, “I’M NOT GAY,” and underneath that, “But $20 is $20.”
“Dude,” Greg said.
“I know,” Jesse growled. “It was a gag gift last Christmas—from guess who?” He shook his head. “Mom thought it was hysterical. Dad didn’t get it, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to explain it.” Greg snorted. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Jesse turned it around and began pulling it on, putting two arms through one after the other.
The moment he did so something very strange started to happen. Jesse’s other arms vanished, just as had happened with the legs, but more than that Greg suddenly found himself wrapped in moving, thick tee-shirt cotton too, as if he were putting on a shirt without knowing it. For a moment his vision was full of shit-brown fabric, and then—he was behind Jesse instead of next to him, wearing his own copy of the stupid tee shirt just as he’d ended up with his own pair of Jesse’s jeans down below.
“Whoa,” he breathed. Instinctively he moved to pull Jesse’s long hair out of his shirt.
Jesse smiled over his shoulder, and then settled back against Greg’s chest happily. “Wow,” he said. “I guess we’re not joined any more, are we?”
“We could be,” Greg said, grinding his painfully erect dick against Jesse’s fine ass. Greg had a strange feeling his equipment was bigger than he remembered it being, and he looked forward to comparing notes with Jesse on that and other particulars of their newfound intimacy. He wrapped his arms around Jesse, enjoying this kind of contact just as much as he’d enjoyed sharing Jesse’s incredible, augmented form.
“Sto-o-op,” Jesse whined. “I’m already boned as fuck.” He paused and then added, “Was this what you thought would happen? ‘Cause I thought, when you were, like, I’d go back to normal, I thought you might end up without a body. You know, just stuck in my head.”
Greg kissed the side of Jesse’s neck. “Naw, that would be ‘you’ll go back to normal’,” he said. “What I said was, ‘we’ll go back to normal’.”
“Oh yeah,” Jesse said. “I guess you’d know,” he said distractedly, leaning his head back on Greg’s shoulder. “This is all, like, your dream, I guess.”
Greg wasn’t sure what he meant, but he stroked Jesse’s built-up torso comfortingly. “You’re in it too,” Greg said. “It’s both our dreams.”
“Hey, Jesse! Are you allowed to watch freaky gay porn videos?” called Owen at that moment, sounding as delighted as all teenagers catching their older brothers in something illicit. “Because this is some really freaky gay porno, dude!”
“Uuggggghhhh,” groaned Jesse, climbing quickly to his feet with easy athleticism. He turned to offer Greg a hand up, though it took Greg a moment to grab hold of it, as he was very distracted by the extremely obvious monster hard-on in the front of Greg’s jeans. “If this were my dream,” Jesse huffed, “he wouldn’t be in it.” He lifted his voice to carry back to his bedroom just as he got Greg to his feet. “Get away from that shit, Angus!”
“Jeez, still with the shouting in my ear!” Greg complained.
Jesse grinned and winked. “I’ll do something to your ear,” he said saucily.
“What does that even mean?” Greg asked.
“This guy is sooo baked!” Owen shouted back gleefully.
“C’mon,” Jesse said, nodding toward the door. They headed back to Jesse’s bedroom.
On entering the darkened room, Greg didn’t see what he’d expected. He’s assumed he’d see Jesse’s tall but skinny younger brother standing in front of Jesse’s computer, sneering down at whatever was on the screen. As they came in, though, Owen was settling into Jesse’s desk chair as if he were getting ready to watch a movie marathon, a big smile on his face. And it wasn’t just Owen’s demeanor that threw Greg off. Greg had always thought of mousy-haired Owen, what little he’d seen of him around town and in pictures and vids Jesse had shared with him, as generally unprepossessing compared to sexy Jesse, pallid, prone to acne, and with a bit more nose than necessary, with more height than meat on his bones to go with it. “Weedy” was one word he’d have used, and “unattractive” was another, even after he’d started wearing contacts.
No longer. Somehow Owen now looked almost exactly like a two-years-younger version of Jesse, complete with long, lush blond hair down to his shoulders and a defined, well-built body visible under his snug tee. When they came in Owen said, “Whoa, it’s like he’s so high, he’s, like, making me high just by looking at him.” He didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
“Holy shit,” Greg gasped. He forgot about the bizarre transformation of his buddy’s kid bro as he got a look sat the screen on Jesse’s laptop. It was still logged into full-screen window for the video he and Jesse had been having, and on the other end was—himself, only stroking a boner so huge it didn’t even fit in the screen. Greg’s mind seemed to crash and sprain itself like a disoriented gymnast. How was he still there, and yet—here?
Owen, meanwhile, was giggling, the effects of whatever Greg had smoked and gotten so blazed the contact high seeped through Skype windows clearly washing over him in waves. “This guy’s kinda wild,” he said in an awed voice. “I mean, how did he get his dick so big?” In a spontaneous, fluid motion Owen grabbed the collar of his shirt behind his neck and hauled it off, exposing a nicely thick set of pecs and four beautiful, slightly pumped arms, all warmed by a soft, subtle tan.
“Holy fuck,” Greg said, kind of awed himself.
“C’mon, bro, put your shirt back on,” Jesse said, a little testily. “We’re supposed to go to the mall, remember?” Owen made a face without looking up—he was clearly not a mallrat in this form, either, but Jesse soldiered on. “We both have to get fitted for Grampa’s wedding, and that’s where the tux shop is.” He rolled his eyes at Greg, as if he was completely unaware of how Owen was not the Owen of the reality Greg had known five minutes ago, and his only current exasperation was getting his brother to the tux shop so they could be ushers at their Grampa Wayne’s big gay wedding.
Greg’s eyes flicked up to the screen. The other Greg was staring hard at Owen, all his concentration focused on him. Re-imagining him, Greg thought. Re-envisioning and re-making Owen, right before their eyes.
From where they now stood by the desk, Greg had an excellent vantage point into Owen’s crotch. He looked down to see a thick tube snaking slowly down one leg of Owen’s jeans—and other matching its progress down the other. “Hey! Owen!” he shouted, suddenly desperate to get his attention.
Owen looked up at him, looking as high as if he’d somehow smoked an entire joint in the last ten seconds. He blinked at Greg and then grinned. “Hey! It’s porno guy!” He leaned forward excitedly. “Duuude! Are you really that huge?”
“You have no idea,” Greg said. “Now get up, I need to use the computer.” Without waiting for Owen to respond he moved between Owen and the desk and started pulling Owen out of the chair.
“Why, dude?” Owen protested, resisting Greg’s chivvying, though not very effectively.
“Because,” he said, grasping mentally for what would reach Owen in this moment. “I… have to make more porno.”
At this Owen stopped resisting and climbed clumsily out of the chair. “Oh, all right, sure, man,” Owen said, unselfconsciously adjusting the two fat, still-soft cocks that hung a good deal of the way to his knees in his baggy jeans as he straightened. Jesse thrust a clean, dark blue tee shirt against his chest. “Get dressed, ‘Meat’,” he said. “The fitting is in half an hour.”
Owen, however, was now grinning at Jesse’s shirt. “Twenty bucks,” he snickered. “I’d charge you fifty. No—a hundred. No—a million. No—a kajillion.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse said, sounding amused at Owen’s impaired state. “Just put it on.” Dutifully, Owen pulled the tee shirt on. Just as Greg had imagined for Jesse, the act of pulling on the shirt brought the number of arms down to normal, though everything else retained its newly revised state, from his close resemblance to a younger Jesse to his newly buff, Jesse-lite physique to his double helping of sausage down below. Greg gaped, unsure what to think about this. Maybe it didn’t matter what he thought. He remembered the video chat window and turned toward it, feeling he could at least try to fix that. He bent and looked at the screen.
The other Greg caught sight of him and froze in mid-wank, eyes widening.
“No,” he told the screen firmly. Fuck, he could feel his dick growing already—and he was commando, Owen not having provided them any shorts, and his shirt started to feel a little tighter across his pecs. His brain was getting fuzzy again, too, but he fought against it. “Stop,” he insisted. “Just—go to bed, okay!”
The other Greg, wasted beyond belief, opened his eyes wide and leaned forward, uncomprehending. “Whuuuut?” he asked.
“Go. To. Bed,” Greg instructed.
“Oooh,” his stoned alter ego said. Greg watched as the other him started looking around, as if trying to locate something he could recognize as a bed, hand still on his gargantuan, probably permanent erection. “Bed…?” the other Greg repeated dreamily. Greg shook his head in defeat and clicked the window closed, closing the laptop. He looked up to see Owen staring at him, baffled by his behavior. “Interactive porno,” Greg explained. “It’s the latest thing.” Owen nodded sagely, as if this was just what his doped-up brain had told him was happening.
He straightened, feeling a little woozy. He caught Jesse staring at him with a frankly lustful expression and felt his lips quirking without conscious volition. “Fuck, G,” Jesse said, his voice sounding like pure sex. “You… you are so fucking amazingly hot.”
“Ugh, not this again,” Owen said. He had already pulled off the shirt Jesse had managed to get him into and tossed it negligently aside, his four toned arms looking as natural on him as if he’d had them all his life. Which—he had, right? Or—Greg frowned and found himself moving naturally toward Jesse, who took him in his arms as if he belonged there.
“Have I told you how many times a day I jerk off just thinking about you?” Jesse purred, pulling him into a loose embrace. The words seemed to wrap around Greg’s thick, completely hard cock like a warm, strong hand. He stared back at him. Fuck, Greg just couldn’t seem to make his brain work. He felt like he was falling into Jesse’s crystal-blue eyes.
“I don’t need to hear this,” Owen complained to the ceiling, with the long-suffering tone of someone who heard the like all too often. Owen’s super-responsive cocks, meanwhile, were thickening fast in his pants. Jesse ignored him, watching Greg in renewed wonder.
“I got a big problem, though,” Jesse said. “I can’t decide which of your beautiful faces to kiss.” He sounded very happy to be in the throes of such a dilemma. Greg drew in a deep breath. Of course, he knew exactly how to solve that problem. He leaned in and kissed his man’s sweet, full lips from two directions at once, and they melted into a passionate three-way kiss that lasted until they both ran out of breath.
“You guys,” Owen said. “It’s not fair to turn me on like that when I’m not joined at the hip with someone like you two are.” He sounded both disgusted and very, very aroused.
Greg laughed at the turn of phrase. If only Owen knew. Jesse, too, smiled salaciously. He leaned in between Greg’s heads to whisper in his ears. “Speaking of which,” he said, only loud enough for Greg to hear, “do you want to… get together later?”
Greg snickered. He kissed both sides of Jesse’s slightly stubbly jaw, over and over. “I (kiss) cannot (kiss) wait,” he murmured.
“Guuuys,” Owen huffed, and Greg and Jesse knew that now was not the time. They separated, and the three of them, with some reluctance, trouped out of the room, pretending to ignore their raging erections and with Owen’s shirt all but completely forgotten. They charged downstairs, heading for the car, the mall, the tux fitting, and life in general, as newly revised and augmented.