Description Jimmy is starting to enjoy his first summer with his newly acquired wishpower when a very sexy couple moves in next door. The only trouble is, Jimmy doesn’t immediately recognize the true nature of their relationship, and by the time he does, it’s already too late.
|Updated||23 Nov 2019|
I swear it’s not my fault. I didn’t know! I mean, how could I? Look, if you were a constantly horny 17-year-old and had just inherited secret wish powers from your recently dead grandfather and a couple of guys move into the big house next door and one is a dark-haired wet dream who looks like a goddamned professional model in his mid thirties and the other one looked like a delicious blond Adonis who should be banned by law from wearing shirts, you’d do what I did, right? Look, I’ll tell you what happened and you’ll totally get it.
I was lazing around in the back yard totally naked (I’d made it so people didn’t really care if I was naked or even boned, or even notice unless I wanted them to, especially my parents or the uptight dicks at school, though I hadn’t tested this yet as it was still the middle of summer), stretched out on a pool float (our house had a pool now! I totally loved it), trying to decide whether to go upstairs and beat off for the tenth time that day or just flog my enormous cocks right here in the pool (c’mon, I was so horny all the time, just couldn’t get enough of my cock, and stroking and sucking two of them—well, look, you’ll just have to take my word for it), when I heard a commotion from the old Davis mansion next door, the last house on the block and vacant for only a week. That was fast! I thought, falling out of the float and splashing into the perfect, cool water.
When the head of the Davis clan relocated to San Francisco for work at the end of June and took his noisy brood of shouty kids and scolding aunts with him (I didn’t do it! I wouldn’t! I’d only just gotten my abilities anyway, but even so!), I had lain in bed kind of wishing a couple of really hot gay guys—really, really, really hot gay guys, okay?—would move into the rambling old Spanish colonial, prowling its sun-baked archways and patios and balconies, making love in the lush back yard that sloped up into mine, with just a long iron fence in between (our neighborhood wasn’t big for fences, but Mr. Davis didn’t want the local dogs nosing around and trampling his wife’s azaleas). I hadn’t made it a formal wish, though, so my stomach was tingling with curiosity and anticipation as I swam to the edge of the pool and effortlessly hauled myself out (I wasn’t much more muscular than I had been before, but I’d made myself a lot stronger just out of sheer curiosity and also in case I ever ran into that stupid bully Darren again, though I hadn’t seen him all summer so I think he moved away).
I padded across the concrete that surrounded the pool (I modeled it off the sweet pool James Whale had in Gods and Monsters, with all the hot beefcake guys diving in and lounging around it—and I had almost, very nearly, included the guys as well) and then the wide back yard, enjoying the slap of my long, fat cocks against my firm thighs (god, I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love cock—seriously, cock is almost all I think about) and the warm, soft grass against my bare feet as I approached the six-foot-tall, iron fence. There was a lot of activity at the Davis house, both inside and outside, as movers carried boxes and lugged furniture from a huge moving truck parked along the arc of the big cul-de-sac that faced the Davis house on this side an the Hernandez house across on the other side. Through the windows I could see boxes and lamps and desks being carried up to the second and third floors, but not the fourth so far. They probably didn’t need it—it was a pretty damn big house.
My eyes drifted across the movers in their coveralls, noting absently that a few of them were cute and most totally weren’t, when—I saw them. Fuck. Even at this distance they grabbed my attention and held it. I felt my dicks chub just from seeing them standing there on the back deck, both in jeans and tight dark tee shirts (dark red on the younger one, dark blue on the older), discussing something with the foreman of the movers. As I stared at them the blond, who was just a bit taller than the other one and, from the breadth of his shoulders and the tautness of the fabric of his tee across his chest, seriously in need of a shirt removal, looked up and saw me, and my breath actually caught because his eyes were so bright and beautiful I could see it even from a hundred and fifty feet away.
He tapped the dark-haired one on the chest with the back of his hand, a gesture I thought was pretty adorable, and the dark-haired one looked up and met my gaze, and fuck. The younger one was bright-eyes and breathtaking, but the dark-haired one had eyes that fixed on you and fucking smoldered, and I was hard. As. A. Rock. My cocks got hard so fast they slapped against my abs, just below my swimmer’s pecs, and quivered there like steel poles struck with a mallet. Then they smiled at me, and I very nearly came. I stared at them, gaping, and they stood there, the blond still with his knuckles against the black-haired one’s chest, and enjoyed being stared at. The blond nodded his head back once, still smiling, sending the clear message, Come over and meet us!
Uh, yeah, okay. Fuck yeah.
The dark-haired one was saying something to the foreman, who was also looking at me with interest. It was evidently telling him they’d catch up later, because the foreman nodded and headed into the still-bustling house, consulting his clipboard. Meanwhile, the dark-haired hunk kept his eyes on me the whole time, and I stared back, deciding that this one was even more in need of a shirt-removal than the other one.
I started to make a wish in my head for there to be a gate in the fence in front of me, since there wasn’t any kind of ingress all along this side of their property; but they were watching, and I was still a little leery about making wishes and changing things right in front of people. (I knew I could fix it so people didn’t notice, but I wasn’t totally sure people wouldn’t have this unnerving residual sense that something was different, and I really wanted to keep my abilities secret like gramps had said in his vision—by the way, just how fucked up is it to get a vision of your still 45-looking and hunky gramps, which is weird in itself, after he’s decided he’s done with his wishpower and letting you have it as his last wish, and you’re in bed jacking off and now a phantasm of your hot gramps is talking to you about your destiny? Pretty fucked up is the answer.)
So I grabbed the top crossbar with both hands and used my new strength to sort of vault over, making sure my asshole wasn’t ripped open by one of the long pointy spikes that bristled along the top. It wasn’t elegant—I figured the judges wouldn’t exactly be giving me all sixes—but my strength made my confident I could clear it (I realized I could wish myself mad gymnast skillz just that second too late for the hoist, but I went ahead and did it in midair anyway and that’s probably what kept me from tumbling onto my face and sticking the landing instead—a little wobbly, but stuck, thank you very much!) and, once I’d caught my balance, I strode across the grass as if I jumped other people’s fences and introduced myself to achingly hot neighbors every fucking day.
I remembered I was hard in mid property-invasion, but I kept going, heading for the deck. I could have made myself soft again, but I really didn’t want to because my dicks felt so amazing when they were this hard. And it wasn’t like my neighbors would care anyway. They were watching me intently, though, and as I trotted up the stairs of the deck I saw that they were both looking me up and down, watching my muscles move, taking in my hotness. Yeah, I’m hot. If you know you’re hot, because you wished yourself to be and it happened, why be cagey about it? I’m fucking hot, though these guys were in another league. I caught up with them and just stood there, the three of us just sort of basking in each other’s company, and I wanted to check and see if they were as hard as I was, except I couldn’t look away from their eyes—blue for the dark-haired one, hazel for the blond, and both mesmerizing as fuck.
“Hi,” I said at last. “I’m your new neighbor.” I grinned at them, because that idea made me really happy.
“We saw,” said the blond, his voice low and rough in a way that just tore through me.
“We’re Kevin and Connor,” said the older, darker-haired one, indicating first himself and the blond.
“Jimmy,” I said. Kevin’s right hand started to lift from his side, but I didn’t want to shake hands. In my head I formed a lightning-fast wish, that the three of us should kiss hello, kiss always, that there should be a lot of kissing between the three of us and that Kevin and Connor thought it was no big deal for them to kiss me, separately or together. And then just like that the distance between us closed and they were surrounding me. I’d only made myself a few inches taller than I had been because, well, mainly because the guys on the basketball team were mostly tools I didn’t really like or get on with, much less want to spend hours with them on a bus to Topeka for the big playoff games I honestly didn’t give a fuck about. So I was a bit taller than Kevin but still an inch shorter than Connor.
Their arms snaked easily around me as they moved in for a three way kiss, and after a moment’s hesitation I followed suit, sliding my hands along the smooth tee-shirts clinging tightly to their nicely wide, very nicely defined backs. I had a heartbeat’s time to savor their smell—Connor’s clean and with a hint of laundry detergent, as if he’d just swapped shirts for a clean one, Kevin a little darker and spicier, like he’d worked out that day and you could still sense it even after the shower. And then, fuck, their lips were brushing mine together, tentatively at first, and then their faces shifted closer, our cheeks bumping as our mouths opened to each other and I felt two strong sets of wet, hot lips shifting and moving against mine and each other’s. A huge rush of heat blossomed all through me and my aching cocks strained for attention, but all I cared about in that moment was our three-way hug—their warm hands and arms pressing against my damp, hard, naked torso—and this awesome, deepening kiss. Fuck.
(Okay, I hadn’t had a lot of kisses, because I normally stayed away from getting other people to do things with my wishpower and I’d kind of lost control this time and a new and major way, but geezus, these guys were amazing at kissing. It was like kissing that involved everything inside you, kissing that made your guts roil with pleasure and need. And yeah, my fucking toes curled. My dicks were desperate for these guys and I was so into the kiss I couldn’t even hear them.)
After a few minutes of this we disengaged, still in our embrace, our faces hot and out mouths a little kiss-swollen; and then Kevin and Connor shared a look that had everything in it—tenderness, love, trepidation, revelation—before moving in for a sweet, beautiful kiss just between the two of them. They deepened it and then softened it again, then pulled away very slowly, letting their lips linger against each others’ before fully separating. Their eyes opened as they did so and they stared so intensely at each other that I felt my whole body surge with arousal and affection. I tightened my embrace, eyes dancing between them, and it seemed to make them aware of me again.
“Sorry,” Connor said huskily. “That was—we hadn’t done that before.” His eyes sought Kevin’s, and there was a bit of anxiety in them, like he was looking for—what? Reassurance?
I wasn’t paying attention (and because, as should be readily obvious by now, I’m also a clueless idiot), so I couldn’t make any sense of this—obviously they were a couple, obviously they were already living together, so I said, “What?” I was hazy with arousal from the proximity to these hot guys and the actual contact between us—we were close enough our torsos and hips and legs were touching, and Kevin and Connor’s hot breaths were ghosting on my cheeks.
Kevin glanced at me, his deep blue eyes dark but clear and sharp. “He means, here,” he explained. “We hadn’t christened the house yet.”
I nodded, but Connor furrowed his golden brows slightly. Kevin gave him a look that spoke of talking about it later, and then smiled at me and moved in for another kiss, just the two of us. I moaned into his mouth and quickly let him in, meeting him halfway and then some as he kissed me hard and thoroughly. After a few pounding heartbeats I felt Connor’s hot mouth brushing against my neck, lathing the warm, taut skin there, and I just about lost it.
After a few minutes of this we separated, and I turned hopefully to Connor. He smiled and obliged me with a deep and delicious kiss of his own. While I was enjoying his taste, Kevin brushed his lips against my ear and then said, in a very mock-romantic voice, “Want to stay for lunch…stud?”
I smiled against Connor’s kiss, and he smiled too. I turned to face Kevin, who went on, in the same fake-sensual tone, “Because we were about to break for some food, and you’re…welcome to join us.”
I bit my lower lip, meeting his eyes, and couldn’t help from giggling. I said, “I’d love to join you.”
Kevin walked in and moved toward Connor, but then seemed to check himself, glancing at me. I frowned, not liking being the one to put a damper on their affection. Without any premeditation, I found myself making another wish, that they should be completely comfortable being demonstrative around me, whether it was touching or kissing or—whatever. And that being around me was something they didn’t mind. At all. I shook my head (I hate it when a wish goes off topic like that!) and watched as Kevin forgot his hesitation and wrapped his arms around Connor from behind, as Connor continued unpacking the food and opening containers and packages. Connor seemed surprised, but—amenable. Kevin kissed his neck, and Connor seemed to quiver with arousal. My own cocks surged in response, flexing against my perfect abs. I couldn’t see his crotch behind the island, but I was pretty sure Connor, at least, was as boned as I was. (Well, okay, not as boned as I was.)
“You guys are so hot,” I heard myself say. This made Connor blush. Kevin rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder near his neck and smiled at me. “How long have you two been a couple?” I asked.
Connor’s brows drew together slightly and he seemed about to say something, but Kevin jumped in. “We’ve—known each other a long time,” he said. “But it’s gotten a lot more serious—recently.”
“Very recently,” Connor muttered, sounding amused. Kevin kissed his neck again, and Connor’s lips quirked.
(Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I know that Kevin was fudging things so I didn’t cotton on to the fact that they weren’t a real couple, or at least, not in the way I thought. Connor picked up on it and played along, though I found out later they argued about it after I eventually went home for dinner. But I didn’t clue into any of this at the time. I admit I was a little distracted, or, okay, totally distracted, but—c’mon. Hello, McFly? Anybody home?)
(And yes, when I did figure it out, I acted out that very scene, knocking on my own head and everything. Oh well.)
“Okay, lunch is ready!” Connor announced, picking up the tray and moving around the island, Kevin following behind. This gave me my first unimpeded view of Connor’s crotch, and—damn. His big torpedo cock was jutting up at just to the right of vertical, maybe 1 o’clock, making a fine tubular bulge in his worn jeans. In fact it was big enough that it looked like the tip would be visible peeking over the waistband, if only that pesky shirt weren’t in the way.
I let myself make one more wish, and then I swore to myself I’d stop. That wish, of course, was that these guys liked being shirtless, especially around me, and wore shirts as seldom as they could get away with. Especially around me.
This wish, like the last two, had an instantaneous effect, as Kevin was reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his shirt to haul it off. He paused in mid-reach, looking at me. “Do you mind?” he asked.
I shook my head, and the shirt was off him and in his hands before I had a chance to blink. Connor set down the tray and then casually did the same thing. I saw that I was right—not only did the vision of these toned Adonises include beautifully thick and exquisitely defined muscles and smooth, lickable skin, but right there at the bottom, poking up out of their jeans, both of them were sporting the exposed tips of major league cocks—Connor’s uncut and golden with a flush of red, Kevin’s cut and a little paler like the rest of him, the rosy blush of arousal standing out a little more in contrast, both with little beads of pre just emerging from their slits. I tried not to gasp.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Connor said as he settled into his seat between me and Kevin at the little table, his knees brushing mine.
I just laughed, feeling giddy enough that I was wondering if it was possible to be intoxicated by the immersion in the presence of sheer masculine beauty. I sure hoped so.
Lunch was like a meal made out of flirting. Flirting, mixed with stiff, aching arousal. Hard cocks all around, and us ignoring them like they wouldn’t become the center of our attention if we stopped doing the human interaction thing for even a moment.
The flirting was the good kind. That was kind of a revelation to me, because before I’d jumped the spiky fence into the old Davis place and met my new wet-dream, I’m-going-to-cum-thinking-about-you-two-from-now-on guys, I didn’t know there was a good kind. I knew the bad kind, sure, which was where a jock you have a crush on winks at you totally out of the blue before AP Chem and you grin and lick your lips back at him, only what really happened was his contact lens was out of place and he wasn’t winking after all and then he starts dumping your books and calling you names in front of everyone and tripping you and stuff, and fuck you, Darren. So this was big for me, and I was kind of high off just sitting there at Kevin and Connor’s little round kitchen table in their cozy sunlit breakfast nook, trading grins and brushing biceps. Not just because they were both incredibly hot in intriguingly complementary ways and kissed like there was an Olympics for kissing and they’d just medaled in every event (long form, short form, kissing decathlon) but because it felt so heart-thumpingly comfortable to be with them.
At first I was slightly bummed Connor had sat between me and Kevin. You have no idea how much I wanted to be between them, honestly, getting it from both directions (and I’m just talking about the flirting). But pretty soon I was definitely appreciating being able to look at them both without having to turn this way and that, and it was becoming very clear to me that staring at them and drinking in their crazy hotness was rapidly becoming one of my new favorite things, even ahead of a double-meat roast beef and swiss on a kaiser roll with mayo and mustard, which was what Connor had given me along with a big bunch of black grapes and a cold, wet can of Coke. Normally a sandwich like that would have had my full and undivided attention, and I probably would have even used my powers to clone it so I could keep eating it, but Connor and Kevin kept stealing my eyes away like my stares belonged to them.
I was still hard as fuck, my cocks tapping insistently on my magically megafit torso just between my toned, perfect swimmer’s pecs and my Instagram-worthy eight-pack (and no, I’m not always taking pics of my abs to put on Insta, mainly because my dicks are always in the way and I’m not ready yet to put my boners on the internet, thanks). My balls were getting in on the act too—they felt like they were swelling and hot with all the sex they were stacking up, like they were waiting with barely bridled patience for potential to turn into kinetic. But really what I was most conscious of was how we were all hard, our dicks straining to maximum erection and still pushing to go even farther. All of us were turned on as fuck by the three of us as we sat there together, our lunches half-forgotten, just fucking bathing in each other.
Bathing. That would be hot. Man, I needed to get them in my pool. Or—did they have pool? I couldn’t remember if the Davises had had one or not. It didn’t matter. Kevin and Connor should have a pool. If they didn’t I’d make them one, nice and big with lots of lounging area and a big deep end and a diving board so I could could watch them diving into it, and, especially, so I could scope up their yummy bodies as they hauled themselves up out of the water tanned and dripping and magnificent, like you see in every porno and teen-hunk drama with a pool ever made. Fuck, I might not need porno or the CW ever again, not if I had these guys to drool over and make my greedy balls churn and erupt multiple times every damn day.
The image of the two of them swimming together was pretty arresting, enough all by itself to drive me a little closer to orgasm. The two of them matched each other like light and dark—not just the hair, though that was the obvious part of it. Kevin, the older and calmer of the two, kept his wiry dark hair trimmed short, like it needed to be tamed, and there was plenty more of it curling across his pecs and down his corded forearms and coursing down his ripping abs into his jeans like a dark waterfall. He was movie-star handsome, his face hardly showing his age beyond a couple of lines by the eyes and stray gray hair in his thick, short hair. With him being easily as hot as Connor, maybe even more so, it didn’t even occur to me to wonder how he’d snagged a hunky, golden-Adonis boyfriend two decades younger than himself. But then (ahem) a lot of things didn’t occur to me to wonder that day.
Kevin was hard-muscled all over, but in a way that made it seem like that was just the way he was, like he’d come out of the womb a hairy, hard-muscled, tight-abbed he-man and stayed that way through toddlerhood and little league and senior proms and shirtless frisbee-playing at university and straight into whatever job he’d ended up in now that he was well into the adulting phase of his life. I wondered what he did. He looked like he could be a pro athlete even at 40, like a star pitcher for a major-league team, or a team captain in a secret underground Australian-rules football league. But that wasn’t quite right, I thought. More likely it was something that mostly involved his steady composure and smarts instead of his natural brawn, like a cancer researcher about the save the world from leukemia, or a secret agent, or maybe a starship captain. Don’t laugh, there could be Earth starships we don’t know about! Or, okay, let’s make it fighter pilot for now, with an option for starship captain, because that’s where they get them from.
He was so casually stunning as he sat there with us, all shirtless and relaxed. He was eating one-handed, his left arm loosely draped around Connor’s broad, bare shoulders, and his heated, deep-ocean-blue gaze was shared back and forth between me and Connor as he ate. Which I found gratifying as hell on top of being intensely, ball-tighteningly arousing.
Compared to Kevin’s, Connor’s golden body was much more visibly the product of uncounted hours pushing himself hard at the gym, competing with himself and his fellow jocks for size, shape, and definition. Every muscle had been devotedly worked into delicious, sculpted growth probably going back to his first broach of puberty.
His traps, for example, were beautiful all by themselves, firm and bulging in a way that made my tongue want to slip out of my mouth, like, all the way out, and go on a solo trapezius-licking expedition. Maybe it would get the chance, I thought, though I’d prefer it stayed in my mouth for the shoulder-licking part if only so my lips would get a chance too. The delts, likewise, were deliciously round and firm and were just a shade bigger than most I’d seen. My school was way into muscle for some reason and I’d seen a lot, a lot, of bulging, totally capped shoulders, whether bare and bristling under the harsh locker room fluorescent lights or straining at tee-shirts up and down every hallway every darn day; but Connor’s were lovingly crafted in a way that made them seem like they’d been built and cut to exactly to specification, the right size and shape to look amazing and not a quarter-inch bigger. And I don’t know if it was his skin or his percent fat ratio or what, but you could see all the striations where the muscles poured around and down into the tight little vee-shaped valley where the biceps and triceps flared out and took over.
His long upper arms were big and round too, of course, though again nicely cut and not too big, and I almost regretted my always-go-shirtless wish for them as I sat there thinking about how bonerific those arms would look filling up a shirt sleeve. Maybe I’d get to see that later. I’d been thinking of him as college-aged, but it was summer and he wasn’t the sit-around and veg type. He’d probably put on a shirt and go to work sometime, and I’d get to be all riled up over those filled sleeves after all. Unless he was a lifeguard, or a swimsuit model. Or a nude superhero. Fuck, that would be wild.
‘Cause Connor’s pecs were definitely superhero-worth—maybe that was what made me think of it. He’d clearly shown moderation and a firm, natural sense of aesthetics in all the rest of his years-in-the-making wonder-muscle development, which, let me tell you, me and my dicks and balls appreciated in spades. But I also really kind of loved the way his pecs were… not quite as held back. He obviously loved growing his ponderous, mostly hairless chest muscles and perfecting their melon-like shape with every pec-growing exercise ever invented. His gentle buttery tan accentuated their thick, heavy beauty, and honestly I didn’t know whether to fixate on the supermodel-handsome face framed in lush, longish sunbeam-blond waves, or the delicious, taut body and distracting pecs, or the inch or two of rigid, uncut cock jutting past his waistband along his hip as he sat next to me, his well-built, denim-clad leg now pressed hard against my own naked thigh, periodically jittering slightly with suppressed excitement.
I’d forgotten my sandwich again, despite it still being right there in my hand, and, fuck, who can blame me? Connor and Kevin were both eyeing me with exactly the same dead-sexy mix of lust and cocky smirkiness at the undisguised, amp-on-eleven craving for them I was radiating. My stare shifted from Connor to Kevin, and the older man’s deep blue eyes burned into me and his smile widened in a way that made my heart beat louder and my dicks thump insistently against those spots just below my chest, no doubt leaving trails of sticky precum hanging between torso and glans as they pulled back from my heated, perfectly tanned skin. When I looked back at Connor his face was unexpectedly closer, and then geezus, he was kissing me, and it was like an on-switch I didn’t even know I had had been casually flipped someplace deep inside me. Connor’s kisses were hungry but slow, every minute of kissing making me want ten or a hundred more, and I shuddered as our tongues slid together like our tongues thought that was the natural state that tongues should always be in. If they did think that, I agreed totally and completely.
I distractedly set down my sandwich at last, giving in to the inevitable, and lunch ceased to exist for a while. I wrapped my arms around Connor, and he drew his right arm tight around me while his other arm snaked around Kevin’s torso. He and Kevin were sitting very close, as close as Connor and I were, and my hands found Kevin’s broad back as well past Connor’s, making contact with it just under Connor’s warm, powerful arm. Connor pulled us firmly into a tight threesome, and when I broke the kiss with Connor Kevin’s lips were right there, too, ready and just slightly impatient. A thrill ran through me as I registered just how much these beyond-sexy men who were so out of my league wanted me, urgently and undeniably. This thought was of course quickly followed by a little pang of doubt, on account of how I’d wished them into the kissing-all-the-time thing; but fuck, I hadn’t wished them into being into me like this. I mean, sure, I’d wished myself hot, but there were lots of hot guys in the world. And anyway these two weren’t just hot, they were fucking hot. Sweet, beautiful godlings, dark/hot/wise and gold/hot/eager, and they were both hard as stone and hankering for my dicks because they wanted to do more than the easy, wished-for making out I’d added to our lives.
Kevin’s kisses… okay, can I just say, fuck, that man knows how to kiss. I thought he was already giving me his special, grade A, number one kiss, our lips and mouths and tongues all sparking constant fireworks of pleasure all through me as I held the two muscled, deeply aroused men close to me, Connor devoting himself to the oral appreciation of my neck and shoulders as Kevin and I snogged like no one had every snogged before in the entire history of snogging. But then Kevin sort of downshifted, deepening a kiss that I would have testified in Sex Court could not have gotten any better, and my arousal surged so rapidly I felt like I was standing in the middle of a typhoon of pleasure battering my entire sensory capability.
Before I knew it I was a second away from cumming, and thank god I’d already wished for control over my orgasms (I’ll tell you why later, it’s a hell of a story!) because I didn’t want to cum yet—and in that moment I don’t think I could have strung two thoughts together, much less made a wish. Just having the ability didn’t mean it was always easy not cumming, though, especially in a torrent-of-hot-pleasure moment like this, and it was only with considerable effort that I pushed down a massive, massive climax, knowing that doing that would make it even more enormous later.
I pulled back and just barely broke the kiss, breathing hard, my bruised, tingling lips still brushing against Kevin’s as I stared awestruck into his stormy, lust-blown eyes.
No sooner had my lips parted from Kevin’s than Connor was kissing along my jaw, making his way toward my eager mouth with transparent intent. I turned just enough to be ready for them while tactically not straying far from Kevin’s, and sure enough Kevin’s lips met Connor’s the second mine did, and we fell into a long, dirty three-way kiss as our hands stroked each other’s backs. My cocks throbbed like washing machine agitators, screaming for attention, and I groaned loudly into the kiss. I couldn’t take much more of this.
I finally had to to tear myself out of the snog long enough to pantingly ask, with all the subtlety I was capable of, at least at that moment: “You guys like sucking cock?”
“Fuck yeah,” rasped Kevin.
Connor gave Kevin a glancing look that seemed almost surprised, but I figured he was just reacting to the fervor with which Kevin had professed his love of cock-sucking. Kevin tilted a dark eyebrow at Connor as if to say, “You bet I do,” and as I watched Connor’s surprise melted all at once into lewd anticipation. I didn’t blame him. Fuck, if Kevin’s blow-jobs were anything like his kisses… damn it, I was close again. Connor was one lucky fuck.
“Me first,” I told Connor. I looked at the two of them, both of their handsome faces inches from mine, and confessed, “My dicks need it so bad. I’ve never needed it this bad ever.”
Connor’s grin was lopsided and wickedly salacious. He glanced at Kevin, then back at me. “I can tell,” he said, his voice low, every syllable coursing sexily down my spine and making me want to shiver with desire. Then he asked, “You ever had two guys suck you at the same time before?”
I blinked at him. The truth was I’d never had anyone’s mouth on my dicks but my own, and it had never even occurred to me that both of them could be sucked at the same time—probably because I mostly thought about how much I liked sucking cock (including my own), and by “mostly” I mean “every waking moment”. I wasn’t quite ready to admit any of that to them (or anyone else), though, and in my present state of hyper arousal, wrapped up in the amazing arms of these two incredibly alluring sex-gods, there was no way I could come close to articulating any of it anyway. So I just shook my head and gave them a slightly chagrined smile.
“That’s a shame,” Kevin drawled, and looked at Connor. “Want to help him out with that, Con?”
“Fuck yeah,” Connor responded, looking at me, and it sounded like he was deliberately echoing Kevin’s enthusiastic words from before. Then he looked at his partner and added, “…Kev.” He leaned on the nickname a little for some reason, wiggling his golden eyebrows once, and Kevin’s smile broadened. Then suddenly they were kissing, like they couldn’t look at each other and not kiss. I totally didn’t blame them, not at all, but watching that happening so close to my own lips, so close I could almost feel the kiss myself, very nearly made me explode.
They must have heard the little involuntary whimper I made in the back of my throat, though, because they broke the kiss and smirked at me again.
Connor began, “Let’s take this to—” Then he interrupted himself, looking at Kevin and frowning slightly. Maybe he’d belatedly remembered they’d just moved in and the new house was still in disarray, because he said, “Christ—there’s no sheets on the beds, right? Fuck.” I was totally on the same page, though. None of us wanted to wrestle bedclothes onto a mattress just then. Probably get the sheets tangled up in our big hard boners.
“Couch in the den,” Kevin said firmly, and Connor smiled.
“Oh yeah, that’s perfect,” the younger blond responded, sounding intrigued. Then Connor stood up, still loosely embracing us, which meant Kevin and I rose with him. He looked at me, and I really did kind of have to hold myself back from kissing him. His red lips were curved in a smile that promised I’d get everything I wanted from them, and way more.
“C’mon,” he said, his hazel eyes glinting above his smirk. “I’ll show you the way.”
I expected Connor to lead us into the wide-open space next to the kitchen/nook area where I could see a very large flatscreen already mounted to the far wall through the double-wide open passageway; but as we entered that space I saw a shitload of medium, big, and ridiculously huge boxes piled and stacked everywhere and no sex couch whatsoever. Connor didn’t slow down as we passed through, continuing straight on down a short breezeway toward the main stairwell that coiled up and down in both directions, up toward the higher floors of the mansion and down to the basement cellars or whatever. It was a mansion, so probably wine cellars and maybe, I dunno, squash courts or something.
As we passed along the breezeway with my dicks too hard to bounce and staying right where they were, their sticky wide tips planted firmly against my torso like they wanted to make a couple of dents there, I found myself unexpectedly discovering a whole new part of Connor’s physique to obsess on: the more muscular of my two new neighbors and soon-to-be sex partners (hopefully) was possessed of a pair of long, gracefully flaring lats that rose from his narrow waist to his wide shoulders like the beginnings of wings. I stared at them in awe as we approached the spiral staircase, wanting to reach out and stroke them. I must have felt them before when we’d first embraced, the three of us, out behind the house, but there had been so many things going on they’d only registered subliminally, a latent part of Connor’s hard-won physique. Now that I saw them, I could almost contemplate holding off on blowing my wads and just staring at them in rapt appreciation for hours on——nope, screw that. Orgasms first, then appreciative staring. Then, more orgasms.
Then we started trotting up the stairs, and my brain sort of short-circuited all over again as my line of sight on Connor slid down from his classically tapered back onto his uncannily round and irresistibly compelling ass. The globes of beauty filled out Connor’s snug, new jeans as though his glutes had been specially designed with the instantly arousing effect of their being hugged by taut denim firmly in mind, and the way they shifted as he jogged up the steps made me think that I had never truly seen a male ass before. I mean… make no mistake, the flexing muscle-heads at my high school were as into honing nice round butts that looked good in sweats and gym shorts as they were bulging shoulders, arms, and pecs and washboard abs—and all of those jock bubble-butts looked as flatt as pancakes compares to Connor’s sweet, hard, perfectly spherical glutes. “Geezus,” I gasped, my step faltering momentarily on the curving stairs as I pinned my gaze on that beautiful ass.
The curving stairs were wide enough that Kevin was beside me as we ascended, and he reached out to grab my arm. I looked over at him and saw that he, too, was staring up at Connor’s spectacular ass as if truly seeing it for the first time. His eyes were filled with wonder and appreciation, and I felt kind of good about my admiration helping him to really see his boyfriend’s beauty through another’s eyes. (Look, stop laughing at how clueless I was. I know, okay?)
He looked over at me and I winked. “So, is yours that good?” I teased.
“Maybe better,” Kevin shot back with a grin. “You can rate them later,” he added, his eyes drifting down to my dicks, “after we’re done sucking you off.”
I stepped up the pace, almost tackling Connor on the stairs, and they laughed. Connor started running, and we pounded up steps after him in hot pursuit. We were having so much fun with the chase that I barely noticed we didn’t stop on the second floor (bedrooms, I guessed, which was later confirmed)—instead we kept going all the way up to the third. This turned out to be set up so that half the space was a den and the other half, visible through the passageway cut into the dividing wall, was a large gym with mats and free weights that kind of made me really want to see if I could grow my muscles naturally the way Connor had.
The den, our destination, was a sprawling man cave with deep-pile russet carpeting, two chocolate couches set at right angles to each other plus matching chairs and love seats, a flatscreen on one wall even bigger than the one downstairs, at least three game systems, and a fuck-ton more I wasn’t even able to catalog.
And in the middle of that was a shirtless Connor, whose lats I now noticed were visible even from the front in the gap between his arms and torso (that was definitely one of my buttons, and boy, was he pushing it), and a shirtless Kevin, who looked like a different kind of perfect man, both of them with raging erections that I knew were just for me. Well, for me and for each other, but they were looking at me like they wanted the sucking that was about to happen to be the beginning of endless mutual pleasure between us three studs.
I stood on the landing and gaped at the room before me and the men it belonged to, totally overwhelmed. The den seemed like a place I wanted to be forever. “Fuck,” I blurted out, “I wish I lived here.”
Then my heart stopped the second I realized what I said. Kevin turned toward me in surprise, and I desperately made a hasty wish in my head that what I’d just said wasn’t an official wish, because, fuck, what would the wish do to adjust things so that I “lived” here? Was that a past tense “lived”, or a subjunctive, or what the fick? Would something like that change the past so that I was already living here, and hadn’t just met these two? It already felt like I was not going to stop knowing them anytime soon, maybe ever, but I also kind of got off on how we met. That wasn’t a wish, I repeated in my head. Not a wish, got it?
“You can stay over anytime,” Kevin said, sounding amused. I weighed the remarked, and it sounded like a plausible response to the not-a-wish version of my comment. I let go a breath. He said it like he kind of expected I would be here a lot, though, and then I had a momentary concern that the wish had half took hold after all. But then, I’d wished for them liking having me around before, so… I had no idea. It was fine, definitely fine.
Kevin reached out and took my hand, drawing me slowly toward the couches where Connor waited for us. “But I hope it won’t just be to kill zombies with bazookas,” he added, glancing wryly at the enormous screen and the game systems on the far wall.
I ran my eye over both of them, taking in their contrasting but equally exquisite bodies and the thick erections jutting out of both their jeans. “All I see is you guys,” I said, and I wasn’t lying.
They held me and kissed me together, and I just about melted. I didn’t realize they’d also been turning me where we stood until they broke the kiss and, their faces erupting into wide grins, they each placed a hand on my chest and pushed me over. I landed with a squawk right onto the middle cushion of the couch and stared up at them, shocked.
Kevin pulled a huge meter-square hummus-colored throw pillow down from the end of the couch and dropped it at my feet. After exchanging a single brief glance they dropped to their knees, Kevin on my left, Connor on my right. “Sit up, dude,” Connor said.
I complied, sitting forward on the couch cushion. Kevin reached forward with his right hand and very slowly curled it behind my thick, huge, adamantine left cock. He brought his hand together, tightening his fist in a firm clasp around my cock, and I gasped aloud. Connor followed suit, grabbing my other cock with his left hand, and geezus the feel of their strong hands around my dicks—the first hands I’d ever felt besides my own—was such a rush my eyes almost rolled back completely into my brain and stared down my neck.
“Look at us,” Kevin said. With some difficulty I lowered my head and focused on them. They had their arms around each other’s naked, muscular torsos, as if they tandem-sucked double-dicked guys all the time and knew exactly how to make it work. I imagined them watching pron videos of double-dick blow jobs, talking excitedly with each other about what they’d seen and practicing the techniques and styles with a couple of dildos they mounted on a wooden block or something. Or taking one of those community annex courses, maybe with a couple of really skinny narrow-hipped guys pretending to be a a dude like me with two cocks. After today they could teach that class, I thought giddily.
Their faces were kind of serious. “You ready?” Connor said. “Because you may think this is going to be quick, Jimmy, ‘cause you’re so turned on. But… we’re not going to make it quick.”
I looked at Kevin, half hoping he would disagree with his young stud of a boyfriend, but he looked even more mischievously determined. “We’re going to make it slow,” he confirmed. “We’re going to make you scream.” Then he moved forward, Connor moving with him as if they really had practiced this, but they didn’t head for the cockheads up near my chest. They headed for my fucking balls.
When I’d first mega-enlarged and pluralized my tool, I immediately spent an entire day sucking myself until my balls ached like a motherfucker. Since that was no fun, and my need to suck my own cocks and taste my own cum wasn’t even close to being sated, I made another wish to have three extra-large balls instead of the customary two decent-sized ones I had, and that I’d be able to cum (picking a number at random) five times as much spunk as usual every time I orgasmed with no problem, no matter how many times a day I blew my wads. Then I added the wish about being able to control my erections and orgasms, so that I could cum instantly the moment my mouth wrapped around my dick, or stretch it out for hours.
I don’t think anyone saw me for a week after that. At some point on the second day my mom knocked on my door and asked if I was okay, and I called out that I was—fortunately I was between suck-offs at that particular moment and was watching Ultimate Spider-Man while my dicks quivered, splayed out on my cum-drenched torso. So I called out that I was okay, and made a hurried wish that my parents wouldn’t worry about me unless I needed them to. So Mom went on with her day, and I tossed aside my tablet and watched in fascination as I made myself hard again, my lips and tongue already missing the taste and feel of my thick, rigid dicks.
So what Kevin and Connor descended on was not your ordinary pair of testicles. I had three nearly plum-sized nuts in my sack, and… I dunno, something implicit in my wish must have made them extra sensitive, too—maybe just enlarging them, I’m not sure. I’d already noticed it just stroking my balls with my hands sometimes while I sucked myself, enough so that I’d even dreamt a couple times about being so limber I could lick my nuts if I wanted. But this was reality, and their tongues on my balls felt better than me edging myself for three hours until I finally sprayed my tonsils and the wall behind me with hot, copious jizz.
Kevin and Connor started by licking my outer balls with the broad flats of their tongues, and I shuddered hard and forced a wave of arousal back that threatened to push me toward the edge before we’d even gotten started. I firmly told my orgasm to fuck off and wait for me, and it sullenly complied, a captured monster straining against chains it knows it can break if it has to.
They went on lathing the outer balls for ages, my middle ball feeling hypersensitive in its neglect. Then Connor started mouthing the ball he was working on with his lips, and Kevin followed suit, making silly nummy humming sounds that Connor quickly copied. Somehow the shift in tactic ramped up how good it felt, which I’d’ve thought wouldn’t have been possible, and my spasming hands reached involuntarily for my cocks. I stopped them, though, ‘cause that definitely would have been cheating. So instead I slid my fingers into my hopefully eventual fellators’ hair, enjoying the contrast of Kevin’s short, thick, bristly hair with Connor’s longer, lusher mane. They hummed happily, then made me gasp out again as Kevin shifted position to start in on the top of my middle testicle, Connor immediately following suit on the bottom side. I let out a long, soft, steady moan.
They did that for a long time, too. I licked my lips, desperate for any kind of action on my cocks. I could drop my head and help myself out a little while they were busy down there. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge me that, right? But I held off. It wasn’t just that that would also have “cheating”, either. Because what I really wanted, more than anything, wasn’t my mouth on my dicks. It was their mouths, hot and talented and hungry, them licking my long fast dicks and sucking me and making me cum hard and hot, straight down their throats.
Or—fuck, would they want to swallow? Not everybody did, from what I’d read, not that I was an expert, though I sure did whenever I sucked myself off. Now I was nervous and excited—I couldn’t wait see their reactions to my eruptions of cum, and spraying it all over their faces frankly sounded just as hot as watching them swallow down every drop. Assuming they even could. I made a lot of jizz these days.
I moved my fingers gently over their scalps, trying to signal that I could hold out, but I was a mess of sustained stimulation. So much excitement and stratospheric pleasure, and that was just from the making out we’d been doing, and this festival of the cojones. We hadn’t even gotten to my dicks yet, and for all I could control my orgasms I was losing my mind. “Dudes…” I said. I couldn’t bring myself to beg, because I wanted to show I could be strong and hold out, so I just said “Dudes” again, and again.
They looked up at me with matching smiles, disengaging with my balls as if they would only willingly do so for the briefest of moments. Their faces said they were ready to tease me forever, but their eyes told me a different story. They wanted to make me cum. They wanted it as much as I did.
My heart galloped in my chest at the sight of them. Their lips were red and swollen and wet with saliva, and sweat dampened their hair around the temples—I could feel a hint of moisture under my fingers as I moved my fingers through their hair, and there were speckles of sweat dappling Connor’s broad, bulging shoulders. But mainly what I saw was how handsome they were, and maybe all the more so for being just a shade debauched. My blood heated up another notch, and my dicks felt like they were going to erupt with a Vesuvius of cum whether I let them or not. “Okay,” I said, “new plan. First, you kiss the fuck out of each other, and then you wrap those beautiful mouths around my big, hard, leaky cocks and make me cum.”
Kevin and Connor wasted no time. They turned in their half-embrace and kissed each other with abandon, and it was all I could do to keep my hands and mouth off my rigid, aching dicks as I watched them. I definitely wouldn’t be needing porn from now on, and I committed what I was seeing to the permanent video archives in my brain to watch over and over again as I stroked and sucked myself, probably starting tonight. Fuck, who was I kidding? Three minutes after I’d escaped the dinner table I’d be up in my room reliving this vision of the two hottest guys I’d ever seen making out with each other in front of my twin-pillar dicks, seconds before they turned those mouths into hoovers to suck all the cum out of me I’d ever produced.
They broke the kiss, coming back in for a sweet quick extra smooch before turning abruptly and, without warning, engulfing the top two-thirds of my giant dicks all in one go in their hot, wonderful mouths.
I admit it. I screamed. Just like they said I would, I screamed, and I think I actually heard a couple of very alarmed birds driven to noisy, flapping flight from under the eaves somewhere near the row of windows behind me. Then I laughed. “Fu-u-u-uuuck,” I cried out, as they pulled up together, dragging their lips up the sensitive, overstimulated shafts.
Then—“Oh, yeah, that,” I coached eagerly, responding to the way Kevin was deftly swirling his tongue under and around the head, using unpredictable double-back to drive me wild. “That, that,” I agreed. I tapped the side of Connor’s head with my index finger. “Do that,” I told the younger blond. “What he’s doing. Do that.” I was almost lost enough to not even remember names, mine included, but Connor understood. He looked inquiringly at Kevin, amusement tinging his arousal, and for an answer Kevin popped his mouth off my cock for a second. “Noooo,” I keened, but Kevin winked at me and then turned to Connor, who’d popped his mouth off my other cock, too, aping his partner. Then they kissed, only briefly, and when they separated Connor grinned his understanding, so Kevin must have demonstrated, using Connor’s tongue as a proxy. Now tactically aligned, they looked up at me, nodded, and took my dicks into their mouths again. I started to moan. Then they both started doing the thing with their tongues, a little differently so that it was even more mind-blowing than if it were in perfect sync. My moan ramped up an octave. I must have sounded like a fucking fire engine.
They dove down again suddenly, almost as one, and once again took almost two thirds of my prodigious lengths into their mouths. The heads must have been pushing at both their throats, and it felt so good being enveloped in that tight, velvet heat, twice over, that I couldn’t stop my balls from tightening up in preparation for the mighty twin climax that was only heartbeats away. I was babbling at this point, barely aware of stuff like “fuck yeah” and “so hot” and “please, c’mon, please” falling out of my face. And then something amazing happened. Connor began to push down further on my giant cock, slowly forcing my super-thick, immense erection deeper and deeper into his throat. Kevin watched in wide-eyed awe, not daring to try to mirror the impossible cock-swallowing feat his partner seemed able to perform almost with no problem.
“Unnnnnh… unnnnnnhhhhhh…” I roared incoherently. I was gone, no brains, no nothing. I focused my gaze swimmingly on Kevin, registering somewhere in my skull that he wasn’t doing the thing now, or what Connor was doing, and I was so caught up with how hot it had been watching the two of the mirroring each other on my dicks this whole time that I started saying, “C’mon, Kevin, you can do it… go on, you can both do it easy… you’re good, you can take me… you can both swallow me… c’mon, please, you can do it…”
And… fuck me, I must have made it a wish or something somehow, because I blinked and then both of them were going down on me, down, down, down, all the way to the roots. I felt their throats around my dicks, like they could actually squeeze and massage my shafts along their entire impossible lengths, and I lost it. “Oh, oh yes! Oh, geezus!” I yelled, so loud that all the birds in the state had probably clattered into flight. “Geezus, yes! Oh god, guys, I’m gonna cum!”
They pulled back together, pistoning up and down on my mighty cocks while using their free hands to massage the skin under my balls, and I started cumming so hard I very nearly blacked out. I came huge and hot, over and over, huge quantities of hot sperm in shot after geysering shot. They tried hard to swallow it all until they finally had to give up and pull off, and I was still cumming, shooting hot white spunk all over their faces. I fell back bonelessly on the couch, my dicks still mostly hard and still spurting fitfully onto my chest, and they climbed up with cum-smeared grins to kiss my jaw and neck and clavicle and basically all over my neck and shoulder area, lapping up any stray globs of cum they found as they went. By this point they were laughing, for some reason, and soon I was too, delirious and happy.
After a bit they collapsed next to me on the couch, our shoulders overlapping and our arms intertwined. I was rapidly sliding into blissful semiconsciousness, something I wasn’t used to happening when I was just taking care of myself, but I remembered some of the guy-etiquette I’d absorbed from many a gay romance. “What about you guys?” I asked.
Kevin snorted. “Are you kidding?” he said sleepily. “We came when you did. You’re like a force of nature. Never seen anything like it.”
Connor hummed in agreement. “I think I had two orgasms at once,” he commented blearily. “Maybe three.”
“Everything’s a competition,” Kevin groused at him good-naturedly, and Connor smiled just as I drifted lazily into sleep.
As I was bussing the plates and silverware after dinner (pork chops and brussels sprouts—not bad, actually, and don’t be too down on brussels sprouts), I remembered my impulse to run upstairs and start the video of that afternoon playing in my head as part of a whole new self-pleasuring routine as soon as the evening meal was done. But now that the prospect lay before me, it rang kind of hollow. So as I rinsed the plates and loaded the dishwasher I looked pensively back to the table where Mom and Dad had both gotten out their laptops and were already busy grading papers. (They both taught college-level language classes—German for him, French for her. They separated for a few months when I was a kid and and when they were arguing over custody I’d told them that I felt like I was Alsace-Lorraine. They were pissed at the time, but later told me it was the first proof I was a smart-ass. They sent the story to a website a few years later.)
It hadn’t been all that long ago—maybe all of… three weeks? Geez—that my weirdly hunky and freshly dead gramps (on my dad’s side) had appeared to me in a vision while I was jerking off in my bedroom and said he was dusting off his long-forgotten wish-power and handing it over to me. I missed some of what he’d said on account of being naked and mortified and desperately trying to hide my then-not-so-mighty boner, but I do remember asking him why me, and he’d said it was because I was ready to take charge of my life. I was smart and sensible, he said, and a lot more grown up than he’d been when he’d stumbled into the wish-power at age 26—and no, he wasn’t telling me the story. I did catch a glint in his eye, though, and I got the distinct impression he thought I might raise a little hell in a way that he’d find entertaining from the safe distance afforded by celestial repose. But I took him at his word when he said I was ready to make my own choices. And hey, look how things had turned out. Sure, I’d given myself some off-the-chart, ridiculously self-indulgent gifts. But as soon as an opportunity had come along, I’d found a way to share my bounty with others!
I shook my head at myself, grinning. Yeah, that was fucking fatuous, but at the same time… going upstairs and sucking myself off really did feel shallow and silly compared to going next door and maybe giving back some of the pleasure I’d enjoyed that afternoon. They wanted it, too. I’d seen it in their eyes. They wanted me around, and not just for mind-blowing sex, though that probably would have been enough for me to do what I did next.
Plus—two cocks? How could I not have two boyfriends?
“So hey, Mom,” I said with what sounded to my ears like an artless attempt as casualness, “I might be spending tonight over with that new couple over at the Davis place?” I winced—I was not going to embark on this new phase of my life by phrasing my intensions as a question. “I mean, I’m going to be heading over there after I finish with the dishes.”
“Oh, I met them before, they’re nice. Are they a couple?” she added, sounding slightly surprised, though she was still looking at her screen and not quite giving me a hundred percent of her attention—though actually it was more like that spooky parent thing where they can give you all of their attention while stull doing their own stuff. I’d never figure out how anyone did that.
“They definitely are a couple,” I confirmed. I added soap to the dishwasher dispenser cup and locked up the machine, getting it ready to run. “So it’s okay if I spend the night there? And, like, most of the summer.” Hey, “go for broke” was my new middle name. Which was likely to be confusing, because I didn’t even know what “go for broke” meant. Was that a gambling thing, or…?
She looked up at me finally. “You know it’s your dad’s birthday on Saturday,” she said warningly.
“For Pete’s sake,” Dad grumbled, typing languidly.
“I know,” I answered patiently. We always went to that chain restaurant outside of town with the twenty page menu and the amazing ice cream. They both thought the place was kitch, but that was part of the fun. Rituals should be a bit kitch, apparently.
“You also said you’d mow the lawn every week,” Mom reminded me, one eyebrow raised.
“I’ll do my chores,” I said, not even rolling my eyes. I’ll even do them without magic, I almost promised inwardly, though the truth was I was struggling with that one. We had a really big lawn. And I’d smacked myself in the forehead when I’d discovered that my off-hand adding a pool to the backyard had totally increased the yard chores I was responsible for. I now actually had to do filter maintenance and chlorine leveling for a magically created pool!
Mom shrugged, turning back to her work. “Okay, then,” she said easily. “Text me where you’ll be.”
And that was the end of it. I stared at her for a second, almost ready to ask, “Really? It’s that easy?” But then I remembered: I’d wished for them not to worry about me unless I needed them to. So… until I got hit by a falling anvil or stepped into a bear trap and really, truly needed them, they were going to assume I was sorted and all right.
I should have felt weird about that. But—no, there was a big, giant smile crawling across my face. I flipped the dishwasher on, and as it rumbled contentedly to life I walked out of the kitchen, already imagining the night ahead and the simple delight of cuddling between my men.