Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

He wanted it all.

But he’d have nothing if he shot off like a freshman getting his first up close and personal with a tit.

As slowly as he slid in, Gumby drew back but not fully out. Then he pushed forward again. With intent this time.

“Fuck,” Screw whispered as the force of Gumby’s stroke powered him into Jazz. She moaned, curling her fists into his sides.

As Gumby picked up the rhythm, Screw kept himself braced on his arms. He’d planted one hand flat on the table on either side of Jazz’s head.

“Oh, God,” Jazz said, gripping him so hard, her nails pricked his skin. “Every time he fucks into you…”

Hell, yes. “I fuck into you.”

“Yes,” she said, meeting the next thrust with a pump of her hips.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Gumby said as he thrust.

“More.” Screw barked. “Fuck me harder, Will. Fuck us both harder.”

With a feral growl, Gumby hammered into Screw’s ass. He barely needed to move his own hips because the man behind him and the woman beneath him were fucking themselves on his body with such vigorous enthusiasm.

“Your ass feels so fucking incredible.”

“Yeah, well your dick’s fucking talented,” he said just as Gumby reamed his prostate making him slam into Jazz. She seemed to love that, crying out each time Gumby nailed the gland as though she felt it too.

“I believe that’s my line,” Jazz said then gasped when Screw bent forward and nipped at the side of her breast.

“Fuck, right there, G. Right fucking there.” The talented fucker shifted, hitting Screw’s prostate on every stroke. His head was gonna blow straight off his body.

Talking stopped after that. Maybe it was the ability to talk that flew out the window.

Screw gave himself over to the care of his two lovers. His pleas for more seemed to have unleashed something in Gumby as the other man’s thrusts became near frantic. He managed to keep his eyes open and locked on Jazz as together, he and Gumby drove her toward the finish line.

Three more hits to his prostate and Screw knew he’d about reached the end of his ability to hold on.

“Baby,” he ground out. “You need to come. Now.”

Jazz just moaned in response, her eyelids falling shut. “So c-close.”

Screw shoved one hand between their sweat-slicked bodies—thank God for many, many hours of upper body exercises—balancing on one hand above Jazz.

The very second he found her clit, she stiffened beneath him then let out a cry of satisfaction that no man could resist.

The spasms of her pussy around his cock pulled his orgasm straight from his balls deep into her. “Shit,” he shouted, slapping his palm on the table once again. The orgasm consumed him. White flashed through his vision. Every cell in his being sang with pleasure as spurt after spurt of hot come ejected from his dick.

Just as his ass rippled around Gumby, the man also stiffened, then jerked and grunted as he blew his hot load into Screw’s ass.

Jazz sagged, her arms falling from his sides to hang limply off the edges of the table. Screw bowed his head as the events leading to this volatile encounter came back to him.

He’d been stressed out of his fucking mind. The highs and lows of the night had taken his mind and battered it beyond recognition. It was the only excuse he could muster for attacking Gumby when he’d walked through the door.

Gumby pressed a line of kisses across Screw’s shoulders as his softened cock slipped from his ass. Screw followed, leaving the warm wet cavern of Jazz’s body. When she let out a tiny whimper of protest, he couldn’t help the small chuckle.

Gumby’s cum dripped from his ass, probably making a mess on his floor. Hell, his cum was probably trickling out of Jazz as well. They could clean it later. Or not at all. There was something so filthy and erotic about their mingled sex juices staining his house.

He spun, taking Gumby’s face in his hands and giving the man a hot and heavy kiss. Jazz sat up, wrapping her arms around his waist and her legs around both of them as best she could. Her heels most likely dug into Gumby’s ass to keep them all joined in the tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Gumby’s lips. Jazz had asked him to be real, so real she’d get. And if Gumby couldn’t handle it…fuck him. “I was so goddammed scared when I realized you weren’t behind me. If you’d been ar—”

“Shh,” Gumby said, kissing him.

Jazz’s soft lips landed on his back again and again.

“I know. I’d have reacted the same way. But I had to finish what we started. For you. For Jazz. And you know you would have done the same damn thing.”

Fuck yeah, he would have. If it had been him who knew how to solve the problem with the truck, he’d have stayed behind to fix it as well. They were alike in their deep-seated loyalty to brotherhood.