A gay story: Per Anum Ch. 07: Fireworks I sighed in relief as I pulled the heavy coat off. Though night had fallen some time ago, it remained brutally hot even inside the usually cool garage, and wearing 45 pounds of turnout gear did not improve the situation. I took pains to arrange my gear precisely as I removed each element, knowing that a few extra seconds spent equipping myself might literally cost someone’s life. Every piece of equipment had a specific location and position, and I was still new enough at this to need the focus.
Around me, the other guys on my crew were doing the same, just in a more relaxed manner; experienced hands all, they hardly needed to look to put their gear precisely where it needed to go. They’d all done this same routine hundreds of times more than I had, of course, but I was still jealous of their easy confidence.
“Five calls since noon,” Mick grumbled. He was a big, swarthy man around thirty, over six feet tall and built like a bull, with massive shoulders and little neck. “It’s like people don’t realize fireworks involve combustion.”
“God bless America, but fuck the Fourth of July,” laughed Charlie.
“Is it always like this?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, this is your first Fourth with us, isn’t it?” asked Charlie, turning to me. “I’d forgotten.” Charlie was a lean twentysomething, all whipcord and wire beneath mixed-race cafe au lait skin. “And no, this is worse than average. Not as bad as some years, but it’s usually better. Rough way to pop your cherry, Nicky,” he added with a smirk. I’d learned early on that Charlie was a smirky sort of guy.
I scowled. “Don’t call me that.” I hate it when people call me Nicky.
Charlie put on a look of mock hurt, clutching his chest as though wounded. “It’s a term of endearment!”
Jake, on the far end of the line from me, snorted derisively. “No, it’s a term of annoy-ment. You don’t use it because you like him, you use it because it irks him.” Jake was big and broad-shouldered, like Mick, but better proportioned, all long limbs and lean muscle. Combine that body with striking gray eyes and killer cheekbones…well. Let’s just say that if somebody wanted to include guys from our station in one of those sexy fireman calendars, he’d be my first suggestion.
Okay, fine, maybe my second suggestion. I worked here too.
Charlie was still playing offended. “It’s called being friendly. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept for you, but sometimes guys give each other silly nicknames. Also,” he added righteously, “‘annoyment’ isn’t a word.”
“Enough,” said Sam, his voice quiet but firm. Charlie, wonder of wonders, actually shut up. None of us have figured out how Sam does that. “Finish putting your gear away. We might get called again at any moment.” We…obeyed. Sam has this compelling presence about him that’s hard to define. It’s not that he goes around barking orders at us or anything–he doesn’t even technically outrank us, or at least not the others–but on the rare occasions when he speaks, everybody listens, even Chief Carson, and that old bastard doesn’t take shit from anyone.
As if the thought had summoned him, the chief himself came around the side of our engine. “Hit the showers, boys, you’re done,” he barked, giving me weird flashback vibes of my high school swim coach. “Crew 3 will cover the rest of the night as primary. You’re on standby if something really goes bad, but you’re off for now.” Chief Carson was a gnarled stump of a man, short and wide, the type of tough old guy who could still totally kick your ass despite being three times your age. “I’ll be in my office filling out the paperwork for that last shitshow if anybody needs me.” He glared around at all of us for a moment to make it clear how acceptable it would be for anyone to need him. His eyes fell on me, at the end of the line, and softened a bit. A very tiny bit. “Happy Fourth, probie,” he said as he clomped away. “I guess you’ll live after all.”
Charlie waited for the chief to get out of earshot, then turned to me with wide eyes. “Wow,” he said, “that might be the nicest thing I’ve ever heard him say.”
“That’s because he’s never said anything that nice to you,” said Jake.
“Harsh, but true.”
I tuned out the friendly (ish) bickering and focused on getting my gear squared away. By the time I had it all cleaned and ready for the next call, the rest of Crew 2 was already in the showers. When I arrived, Mick and Charlie were actually drying off and getting dressed again. I quickly undressed, gladly tossing the sweat-soaked set of station wear I’d had under my turnout gear into the laundry pile before heading to the shower block. Ours was an old-fashioned station, with fully open communal showers instead of stalls or anything. Two pillars ringed with showerheads stood in a large tiled space with drains set in the floor, and a sort of half-wall divided the space from the locker room proper.
Sam was just stepping out as I went in, and I couldn’t help but notice the interplay of muscles in his lean frame as he gracefully slipped around me. For one heartbeat, we were nose to nose, naked and inches apart as steam swirled around and between us. Then he was past me, and I mentally shook myself. Don’t go there, Nick, that way lies madness. Not like I’d ever make a move on Sam anyway; he had something like fifteen years on me, and I didn’t even know if he was into men. Didn’t know much of anything about his personal life, in fact.
Pushing thoughts of naked, damp Sam out of my head–at least until I could be alone, anyway–I stepped into the showers and was immediately struck by the tableau of Jake standing beneath the spray. Water coursed down the chiseled musculature of his torso, sliding between his abs to cascade off the end of his heavy cock or running down his broad shoulders to fall along the taut curve of his ass. His face was lifted into the stream, an expression of simple pleasure on his usually dour face.
Down, boy.
I stepped up to a showerhead and tried to refocus myself on the minutiae of actually washing. I was a sweaty, smoky mess, and entertaining those sorts of thoughts about my coworkers wasn’t going to do anyone any good. No matter how mouthwateringly attractive some of them were. I’d chosen a shower that put my back to the rest of the locker room, just in case of any inappropriate physical responses, but I still had a good view of Jake rubbing body wash all over himself from the corner of my eye. The way his hands slipped over taut, flawless skin, slowly growing flushed from the heat…dammit Nick, you’re better than this. Behave.
I set about washing myself with possibly excessive vigor, trying to think about anything but the way the water was beading in the fine hairs on Jake’s body. Or how the steam seemed to curl around his limbs in an ethereal caress. Or whether his cock was looking any larger now than it had when I’d first come in (mine certainly was.) I stuck my head straight into the stream, trying to simultaneously scrub the smoke from my hair and the images from my brain. Which is probably why I didn’t notice him approaching until he spoke, low and sultry and shockingly close.
“You know, we have a little tradition here for probies who pass their first Fourth of July.” I jerked in surprise, clearing the water from my eyes to discover Jake suddenly standing in the shower right next to mine, rather than the one on the other pillar he’d been using before. His hands still glided sensually across his body, though there didn’t seem to be any soap involved.
“I–what?” I blurted.
Jake carried on as though I hadn’t spoken. “For a probationary firefighter like you, the Fourth is a major milestone. We like to mark the occasion with a bit of pomp and circumstance. For the sake of…team bonding, you might say.” He poured so much innuendo into the phrase “team bonding” I half expected some sort of alarm to go off.
The fact that Jake absolutely was interested in men–I’d seen him exchange intimate farewells with both men and women dropping him off before a shift–abruptly took center stage in my thoughts. He’d never shown any overt interest in me before, aside from the sort of friendly ogling every man indulges in, but he surely was now. The venue was rather more public than I might have preferred, but at least he’d kept his voice low. Come to think of it, I couldn’t hear any of the others moving or chatting in the locker room anymore. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it.
We were alone.
My cock was definitely swelling now, and unless I was mistaken, so was his. Were we really going to do this where anyone might walk in at any moment? Jake apparently decided that we were, because he put one hand on my shoulder, squeezed the muscle appreciatively, then reached over with his other hand and gave my swiftly-growing cock a slow, squeezing pull.
My breath caught in a ragged gasp. “Jake, I–” he did it again, harder, and I lost my train of thought in the rush of sensation. “Fuuuck,” I groaned. He smiled a wicked little smile and started stroking, slow and merciless.
“I’ve wanted to take you for a spin since the day you were assigned here,” Jake said casually, “but rules are rules. Hands off until the first Fourth.”
With some effort, I managed to get my voice to function. “There are rules?”
“Of course,” he replied, still steadily stroking me with that infuriating slowness. “We had to know if you were…a team player, shall we say…before we could risk it.” He glanced down at his hand wrapped around my rigidly hard cock and gave it a squeeze that made me groan. “But I’d say that question has been decisively resolved.”
I opened my mouth to ask a dozen questions, but was cut off in a gasp as another pair of hands slid around my waist. I jerked my head around to find Sam, of all people, snugged in against my side and back, his thick erection pressed against my hip.
“The men of this station enjoy an unusually intimate bond of camaraderie,” he said in his quiet, compelling voice. “We had to be sure you were cut from the same cloth.” He bent his head to run his tongue over my nipple, his hands sliding down to cup my ass. “But now it’s time to welcome you as one of us.”
Holy shit. I had never been so simultaneously aroused and confused in my life.
“Did you know,” Sam murmured in my ear, “that some legends claim the Spartan warriors of Ancient Greece held a belief that receiving the seed of a veteran would impart a measure of his strength and valor? The greatest warriors would spend the night before a battle ‘imparting’ their subordinates with as much as they could.”
Sam sighed against my neck. “Just a legend, unfortunately, as there’s no historical evidence such a practice ever occurred. Still, legends can inspire at least as well as truth. Don’t you find that image…inspiring?” Sam started kissing one side of my neck while Jake took care of the other, their bodies pressed to mine on either side. Jake’s hand was still relentlessly working my cock, his other hand exploring and caressing my torso in between toying with a nipple. Sam’s hands were laser-focused on my ass, though, kneading and playing with it as he ground his erection against my hip and thigh.
Sam had said more words in the last sixty seconds than I’d heard from him in the last month. Despite the wonder of that fact, it was extremely difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. My brain was more or less trapped in a loop of “holy shit Sam and Jake holy shit” that was not very productive. I managed to slide one of my hands down between Jake and myself and get a grip on his cock, so I started giving him some of what he was giving me. I was rewarded with a pleased little noise from Jake in my ear, but Sam started up his monologue again before I could ask any of the many, many questions I had about this situation.
“It’s that idea, that of passing down some measure of our experience, that inspires this little initiation tradition of ours. We, your elders, are going to impart to you whatever benefits we can–by the most intimate of means.” Suddenly the pair of them, wrapped around me as they were, seized hold of my limbs and turned me around. They bent me over to plant my hands on the waist-high wall dividing the showers from the lockers and spread my legs far apart.
“I’m flattered,” I gasped out, “but I’m really more of a top–” I hadn’t bottomed since that time with Chris over a year ago–nope, don’t think about him right now, one emotional trauma at a time–but the way Sam’s hands were working my ass, along with his weird history lesson, made their intentions clear.
“Not tonight, you aren’t,” chuckled Jake, confirming my suspicions. “You can go back to being a top tomorrow. Tonight, your ass is mine.”
“Ours,” corrected a voice. A voice that did not belong to Sam.
I jerked my head up and found myself facing Charlie and Mick, both clad only in shit-eating grins and nursing erections of their own.
“You didn’t think we’d miss this, did you?” Charlie asked.
“Hell no,” answered Mick. “We’re here to finally get a piece of that sweet ass you’ve been taunting us all with for the last few months.”
“We’re here,” corrected Sam in his quiet, intense voice, “to welcome our new brother-in-arms and cement the bonds between probie and crew.”
Jake shrugged. “I mean, I’m mostly here for the ass-fucking, but sure. Let’s call it cementing bonds.”
Sam sighed, and actually stopped groping my ass long enough to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You know, back when I joined this station, this ceremony had a certain degree of dignity and gravitas to it. But fine. On with the ass-fucking, I guess.”
The other men of Crew 2 cheered. I swallowed.
“Tradition dictates that the first to contribute is the next most recent addition to the team–” Sam was cut off when Charlie whooped with excitement, but continued, “because he has the least to offer.” As Charlie pouted, Sam went on. “We then proceed in ascending order of time here. After Charlie, it’s Mick, then Jake, then myself.”
“Hope you like sloppy seconds,” Charlie crowed, rubbing his hands together before giving his cock a stroke. “Or in this case, floppy fourths, I guess?”
Jake shook his head. “Never say the word ‘floppy’ in a sexual context. You might jinx yourself.” He gave Charlie’s erection a significant glance. Charlie scowled and waved it at us, as though to prove its rigidity.
“Speak for yourself! That’s not a problem I’ve ever had.”
Jake nodded sagely, his eyes mocking. “Of course. Best not to think about it.”
Charlie opened his mouth to retort, but stopped at the crisp snap of a plastic cap. We turned to see Sam with a bottle of lube, squeezing some out onto his fingers. He gestured for me to resume my bent position, and I reluctantly complied, spreading my legs and bracing my hands on the waist-high wall. A moment later, I felt the cool slipperiness of his lubed finger against my asshole, and couldn’t suppress the noise that came out of my throat as Sam started gently stroking and probing the rim, spreading lube around it.
“Oh, hell to the yes,” Charlie said, eyes fixed on my ass and hand on his cock again. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He abruptly looked around himself, as though searching for something. “Hey, Mick, help me with this.” He and Mick grabbed one of the old benches scattered around the locker room and pulled it up against the dividing wall where I was bent over. I understood his plan when he stepped up onto it; standing on the bench put his erection right at the level of my face.
He grinned down at me, waggling his cock in what I’m sure he imagined was a seductive fashion. “While you’re getting all slicked up for me, it seems like I should be getting nice and wet for you too.” I considered pointing out that lube works just as well on dicks as it does on assholes, but decided to just surrender to the inevitable and took his cock into my mouth instead.
Sam’s fingertip slipped inside me, rubbing sensuous circles just inside the rim to spread lube. I am a top, will always be a top, but…damn, that felt good. I tried to focus on Charlie so I could pretend Sam’s ministrations weren’t as pleasant as they were. Charlie’s cock was as slender as its owner, with a distinct curve to it that made sucking more than just the head somewhat complicated. I tried anyway, working the head with my tongue before swallowing down most of the shaft. It required a bit of neck contortion but I made it work. I also learned that Charlie, to literally no one’s surprise, was a talker.
“Oh yeah, baby, suck that big ol’ cock. Yeah, that’s it, suck it good, suck it all down, oh, fuck yeah, suck it!” It never stopped, just a constant stream of B-tier porn babble that had the other guys rolling their eyes. I mostly wanted to laugh–people really talk like that?–but that was sort of off the table at that moment. I just kept sucking, bobbing my head and not-so-accidentally trying to hasten his orgasm in order to spare my ass.
Not that my ass was exactly suffering just then. Sam had most of his first finger inside me now, stroking and exploring and adding more lube, and when he found my prostate I had a little fireworks display of my own go off in my brain. My toes curled against the tiles, my body shuddering as he gave that one incredible spot a thorough working over. My own cock, still hard though sadly neglected, dripped a pearly bead of precum with every press onto my gland.
“Oh fuck yeah, you suck so good, fucking hell suck that cock, yeah, mmmm…” Charlie had still not shut up. If anything he was yammering even more now that I’d really gotten him worked up. Behind me, Sam was giving me the most thorough ass-stretching I’d ever heard of, only now adding a second finger and twisting them apart to open me more and more. Off to the side stood Mick and Jake, watching avidly and occasionally stroking their cocks.
When Sam started sliding a third finger into me, Charlie apparently could take no more. “Move it, Sam, I’ve got to get some of that ass.” He pulled out of my mouth and hopped down from the bench then came around the dividing wall. Sam split his three fingers open, stretching me wide enough to make me grunt, then withdrew them and stepped aside. Just in time, too, because Charlie never even slowed down, just strode right up behind me and pressed his cock against my hole.
“Oh God, your ass is so good. Fuck, Nick, you’re so tight!”
It was a good thing my hands were braced on the divider wall since Charlie didn’t stop pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt. He grabbed my hips and started thrusting. It hurt, a little, but that faded quickly as he picked up speed. I found myself suddenly grateful for Sam’s thorough preparation. The curve in Charlie’s cock made for a different sensation than I’d experienced before with Chris.
“Fuck yeah, take that cock! No way you’re a top with an ass this sweet! Fuck!”
I rolled my eyes and did my best to tune out the babble still pouring out of Charlie. He was really pounding into me, now, his hips slapping against my ass with a loud smacking sound. It even felt fairly good, if only he would shut up. The curve of his cock meant every thrust slid over my prostate, sending little jolts from my balls up my spine.
I was distracted from Charlie when a hulking form loomed up in front of me. Mick stepped up onto the bench they’d put along the divider, though he only barely needed the extra height, and grinned down at me. His cock, short and thick and flushed an angry red, waved in my face.
“Charlie won’t last long, he never does,” confided Mick, ignoring the squawk of protest from behind me. “So I guess it’s my turn to get ready. Go on, then. Make Daddy’s cock happy.”
And now he was referring to himself in the third person. Seriously, “daddy?” No way was I calling him that. With a mental sigh, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth…or tried to. I actually had to work to get my jaw open wide enough to accommodate his girth. Mick made a little pleased sound in his chest as I started sucking on the head. He ran his hands through my hair in a surprisingly gentle manner.
“That’s it, be a good boy. Get Daddy’s cock nice and wet for you.”
Great, there were two of them. One babbling nonstop nonsense, the other having some kind of daddy fantasy. Whatever floats their boats, I guess. I set to really sucking him, practically choking myself to take his whole length into my mouth. He’d said Charlie wouldn’t last long, so maybe I could shorten Mick’s fuse as well. Of course, they interpreted my zeal as passion, but that just fueled the fires even more. All the better.
With the way he’d been going, I wasn’t surprised when Charlie’s previously steady (if frenetic) pace started getting erratic. His grasp on my hips tightened, his breathing went ragged, and his diatribe got even less coherent.
“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me–FUCK that’s good! Oh God, fucking shit yes! YES!”
He actually stopped talking long enough to utter a single, long groan as his whole body shuddered. He plunged his cock in to the root, his body clenching up. I felt his cock pulse inside me, once, twice, again, each accompanied by a shiver and a groan from Charlie. After a long moment, he pulled back and withdrew completely. I felt a drop of liquid escape, running down my balls as he stepped back.
“Fucking hell, that’s hot,” Charlie panted. “Your ass is so good. It looks even better with my load all over it.” He laughed and slapped my ass, making me jerk. “Next!”
Mick pulled out of my mouth and moved around to take Charlie’s place behind me. Charlie himself, flushed and panting, retreated into the showers behind us. Mick caressed my ass, collecting the trail of Charlie’s semen with a finger and pushing it back inside me.
“Oh, yes,” he murmured as I squirmed. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you real good.”
Sigh.
My resignation swiftly transformed into concern, however, as Mick started to actually push his cock into me. The ache in my jaw was rapidly supplanted as my most pressing issue when that thickness began stretching me wider than I’d ever been. Even Sam’s obsessively thorough preparation had not been enough for this, though it would have undoubtedly been worse without it. I gritted my teeth, unable to suppress a groan of discomfort as he sank deeper into me. Mick, of course, interpreted the sound as one of pleasure.
“Mmmm, yeah, you like Daddy’s big cock, don’t you? Don’t be shy, you know you love it.” He started thrusting as he spoke, working that short, thick brick of a cock in and out of me with growing speed. At least he was coherent.
As Mick’s hips started audibly slapping against my ass, the tall, lean form of Jake stepped up onto the bench. He flashed a perfect white smile and flexed his inner muscles, making his erection jump and bob in front of my face.
“I suppose it’s my turn for the pleasure of your services,” he said. Finally, a cock I’d actually wanted to taste before all this lunacy began. Longer than Mick’s and thicker than Charlie’s, it was as well-proportioned and handsome as its owner. I ran my tongue up its length, tasting sweat and soap and salty-sweet precum as I reached the head. Using the tip of my tongue, I tickled that little spot just beneath the head that always made Chris’s eyes roll up and was rewarded with a groan and the sight of Jake’s head lolling back in obvious enjoyment.
Mick was grunting now, each thrust accompanied by a deep guttural sound in his chest. The burning discomfort of the stretch was mostly gone, thankfully, though I wouldn’t say it felt good, exactly; more like it felt a lot. Having something that thick sliding in and out of me, stretching me wide open, was an intense sensation even though he wasn’t penetrating very deep.
With the pain subsided, I redoubled my efforts on Jake’s cock. He’d mentioned considering “taking me out for a spin” previously, and I wanted to make sure he’d be back for more, hopefully in a more private setting. Though, if Sam wanted in…well. I could worry about that later. I wrapped my lips around the head of Jake’s cock and put some real suction into it before swallowing down most of the shaft in a single, slow glide that had him shuddering. I didn’t quite manage a full deep throat, but Jake didn’t seem to mind. His hands came up to the sides of my head, gently holding it still as he started slowly fucking my face.
“Damn,” he muttered, “if your mouth is this good, your ass must really be something.”
“Oh, it is,” groaned Mick. “Though it’s not so tight anymore, heh.” Giving my ass a cheerful slap–what is it with these people and spanking me?–he picked up the pace even more. His breath was coming in rough gasps now, his hands clutching spasmodically at my waist while he thrust faster and faster.
Finally, with a bellow he only halfheartedly tried to muffle, he plunged in as far as he could and let loose, adding his “contribution” to what Charlie had already delivered. When he pulled out, my ass was stretched open so wide that much of his load came pouring out as well, running down my legs and dripping off my balls.
“Good boy,” he panted, patting my ass. “You made Daddy proud, taking cock like a champ.” He grinned up at Jake. “You’re up, pretty boy.”
“That’s certainly true,” said Jake, watching his steely erection slide out of my mouth, “but I’m good where I am for the moment. I think I’ll give his ass a minute to recover.” He put some roll into his hips, fucking my mouth more energetically.
“Traditionally–” Sam began, but Jake cut him off.
“Yes, I know, I’ll come in his ass, don’t worry. Your precious tradition will be upheld.” He thrust forward, pushing his entire length down my throat so that my nose bumped into his clean-shaven pelvis. It was my first ever complete deep throat, if somewhat less intentional than one would hope, but I’m proud to say I didn’t choke. Okay, fine, I choked a little, but he pulled back after a second so it wasn’t that bad. Frankly, my throat was in a better state than my ass was at that moment, so I wasn’t going to complain.
Jake fucked my face for a while, thrusting just fast and deep enough to make breathing a little tricky but not actually a problem. If I was a tad lightheaded when he finally pulled out, we can attribute that to the situation in general, surely. Sam took the opportunity to add more lube and massage my asshole, which actually helped a lot with the residual soreness after Mick…although I was starting to wonder if Sam had some kind of fixation, with how focused he was on my hole.
Right about when my jaw and throat were starting to ache, Jake seemed to sense it and eased his cock out of my mouth. Instead of coming around behind me, though, he hopped over the dividing wall and slid down right between where my arms were braced. His whole body sort of slithered down the length of mine, in a very interesting and distracting fashion, and he somehow pulled me with him. It was all done very smoothly, to the point where I hardly knew what was happening until I found myself sitting in his lap.
Jake smiled that wicked little smile again. I’d never seen it before tonight, but I was becoming equal parts aroused by and scared of it. He sat on the floor of the shower, leaning back against the dividing wall with me astride him. His hands wandered up my body and back down, gave my much-neglected cock a squeeze, and then shifted his hips to get us aligned.
I knew what was coming, and was proven correct when Jake got his spit-slick cock lined up with my less-than-recovered asshole. Rolling my hips down and back, I took the initiative and pushed my hole onto his cock. If I couldn’t be the top, I could at least claim some control, and I wasn’t going to give it up this time. We both groaned as I sank down the length of his cock, one long slow glide that seemed to take forever. It hurt a little, still, but oddly having something back inside me seemed to ease the ache a bit.
Still a top, Nick, just keep telling yourself that.
I started to move after a moment, knowing the only way out was through. Well, if it’d really gone too far, if I earnestly told them to stop, they would. I knew these men, trusted them with my life on a near-daily basis, as they trusted me with theirs. I also knew that rejecting this “team bonding exercise” out of mere vanity would damage that trust, perhaps irrevocably. That was why I’d gone along with this ridiculousness in the first place. I could do this, for them. For the team.
I could also fuck the hell out of them one by one as soon as I got the chance, but that could be arranged later.
I slowly rose and fell on Jake’s cock, dragging a groan out of him with each revolution. I much preferred controlling the penetration myself, and getting to work muscles in my legs and core that had been standing stiff for so long was a bonus. I had just settled into a nice steady rhythm when Sam’s compact frame materialized out of the steamy mist wreathing us. I had almost forgotten the other guys were still here, but was thoroughly reminded by a thick erection waving in my face.
“It seems we’ve created a new tradition tonight,” Sam said. “It would be a shame to break the streak now.” His usually soft voice seemed uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Wonder why.
It was a bit of a balancing act, but with my feet planted widely, one hand on Jake’s shoulder and the other on Sam’s cock, I managed to start sucking him without falling off of Jake. I used the action of riding Jake to move my mouth on Sam, pulling back from him as I sank onto Jake, and taking Sam deeper as I rose off of Jake. Both men helped hold me steady, Jake’s hands on my hips and Sam’s on my shoulders.
Things got more complicated–and intense–when Jake started thrusting up to meet me. Each time I sank down onto his cock, he’d flex those lovely abs of his and push upward, burying himself to the root with an audible wet slap of skin against skin. As I rose, he’d sink back down to the floor just in time to do it again. Somehow we’d gotten the angle just right, so every plunging thrust sent his cock battering against that one incredible spot inside me.
It wasn’t terrible. I guess.
Sam’s cock was thicker than Jake’s, though not so monstrous as Mick’s, and I had to open my jaw pretty wide to accommodate him. I spent more time sucking and licking the head than actually swallowing him down, the constant motion of riding Jake too much to make that practical. Plus it made a convenient handle to hold onto for balance.
By the time I had gotten accustomed to this arrangement, Jake changed things up again. Holding me still with an iron grip on my hips, he planted his feet and started absolutely pounding into me, faster and harder than ever before. Distantly, I was aware of Charlie and Mick cheering and laughing, but it was all I could do to hang on for the ride as Jake savagely pummeled my ass. The rapid slapping of his body against mine was approaching machine gun levels, the noise echoing off the shower walls. He’d caught me with Sam’s cock halfway down my throat, so fortunately my cries were muffled. Likely only Sam could perceive them, and he probably thought they were sounds of distress…which as far as you know, they were.
After more than a minute of this unrelenting assault, Jake finally broke. He thrust up powerfully one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside me. Jake’s body went taut, every muscle standing out in sharp relief, and with a shudder he groaned out his release as he sagged back down and pulled me with him. Jake’s body continued to twitch for several seconds, each shudder sending another jet deep into me, until he finally relaxed completely, panting hard.
“There,” Jake said, when he got his breath under control. “I hope you learned a lot about firefighting. Because that’s why we’re doing this.” He gave my increasingly sore ass a squeeze. “Definitely to teach you, and not for any other reason.”
I rolled my eyes, clamped down my inner muscles on his doubtless hypersensitive cock for a moment just to make him gasp and squirm, then stood up on slightly shaky legs. Fortunately, the waist high wall was right there, and I made it look like I was just assuming the position again; I certainly didn’t need to brace my arms on the wall to keep my legs from folding. Nope.
Sam was already moving into position behind me. Jake didn’t even bother to get out of the way, remaining sprawled on the floor right where he’d collapsed, so Sam just stood over him as he lined up his cock. He swept the head against my skin, from down below my hole up to the rim, and I could feel the slightly sticky slickness of Jake’s escaping load as Sam scooped it up and used it as lube to push his cock inside me.
I couldn’t suppress a gasp as the head of his thick cock breached the rim. Thicker than Jake and just as long, Sam was thankfully gentle on his way in. He’d push an inch or so forward, pull back, push in deeper, wait a moment for me to acclimate, then repeat. Slowly, with each move wringing an unfortunate amount of noise from me, Sam sank deeper and deeper. After several torturous minutes, I felt the bristle of his close-trimmed pubic hair against my ass, and with one last gentle thrust, he was buried all the way into me.
That moment, naturally, is when Jake decided to sit up and wrap his lips around my long-neglected, dripping cock, swallowing it all the way down in one smooth glide.
I groaned out something like “Fuckballs shitfuck!” and had to lock my knees to keep from toppling over. I heard a soft chuckle from Sam–who may or may not have known what Jake was up to underneath us–and he started to move. Long, slow strokes, using his whole length so that the ridge of his cockhead pulled at my hole before sinking all the way back down and grinding against my prostate the entire way. Each thrust came slightly faster than the last, the pace gradually rising until he was pounding into me at a steady but punishing rate that combined with what Jake was up to had my head spinning.
Jake took the opportunity to make some mischief of his own, the slick heat of his mouth working over my cock in increasingly distracting ways. He’d flicker little tickling touches with his tongue across my balls, then let his lips just barely graze the skin along the underside of my shaft, then abruptly swallow me down again, only to slide right back off to begin some new delicious torment. It was maddening and incredible and rapidly becoming a problem as I felt the pressure, long banked, begin to build in my balls.
Sam’s breathing was steady and even, his thrusts coming like clockwork. How long could he keep this up? My mind flashed to all the time we’d spent in the station gym between calls. Sam might not match Mick for raw strength, or Charlie for agility, but he outlasted us all in every challenge of endurance. He just kept pounding away at me, unceasing as the tide, every thrust sending a burst of pleasure up my spine as he pummeled my prostate. Jake worked magic on my cock beneath us; he’d sucked my whole length down his throat and with an easy bobbing motion set up a rhythm that was driving me to the edge.
When Sam ratcheted up the pace yet again–apparently he hadn’t even been trying so far–it was more than I could take. I took one hand off the wall and grabbed Jake’s head, rolling my hips to fuck his face while fucking myself on Sam’s cock. My balls were boiling, rolled up tight against my body. My breath, coming in ragged gasps, didn’t seem to get enough oxygen into me as the paired pleasures sent my brain whirling into that frozen, floaty place, that precipice just before you topple over the edge.
I fell.
Sam’s next thrust sent me off the end of the world with an ecstatic cry. My brain drowned in bliss while my cock tried to drown Jake in a more literal way. He actually choked a bit, semen spilling from the corners of his lips, as I poured my load into his mouth. Sam grunted as my inner muscles clamped down on him in spasmodic squeezes, my body’s shuddering disrupting his steady rhythm. Not that it stopped him. Sam just continued thrusting into me in his relentless, inexorable way, each stroke against my prostate sending another wave of pleasure crashing over my brain and another spurt into Jake’s mouth.
After a long minute of floating, I had to let go of Jake and brace my other hand on the wall again, as my legs were no longer quite able to hold me up on their own. He made use of his newfound freedom to start licking my cock clean of every last runaway drop, the slick rasp of his tongue sending near-painful tingles through overly sensitive skin. Sam of course just kept thrusting, though he picked up his pace yet again in what I hoped was a sign we were nearing the finish line.
Sure enough, his ever-increasing pace soon grew erratic, his previously steady breathing getting ragged and uneven. Jake, his self-appointed task complete, wormed out from beneath us to join the others in the showers behind us. I was exhausted in mind and body, wrung out in ways I had never been before–recall that before all this started, we’d just finished the most brutally tiring single shift of my career–but I held on with grim determination, only the knowledge that Sam would soon follow the rest of us over the edge keeping me on my feet.
At long last, with the loudest noise I’d ever heard him make, Sam gave a guttural groan and emptied himself inside me. With my head dangling tiredly down between my arms, I could see his toes curling against the tile floor, the individual muscles of his legs shaking and twitching. Once, twice, and again, he buried himself to the root inside me, each thrust ending with a pulse of his cock that added one last contribution to my now extensive collection.
He held position for a moment, his breathing rapidly coming back under control. Once his shuddering stopped, he pulled out and drew me up to a (slightly creaky) stand. With a surprisingly warm smile, he clasped my shoulders. Around us, Jake, Mick, and Charlie gathered with matching smiles.
“And with that, we officially welcome you to the fold. We’ve each given of ourselves, given something only we can give.”
“He gave back pretty well, too,” put in Jake, licking his lips.
Sam sent him a quelling look and continued. “So now, with a bit of each of us in you, we can move forward as a team, bound together by more than just a job.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder, towards the locker room door, and his smile got uncharacteristically wicked. “Of course, all that was the first round. Round two is just for fun.”
Turning around, I saw five more men in the locker room, clad only in shit-eating grins. The men of Crew 3, stroking hard cocks and eyeing me like dogs offered steak, moved forward.
I sighed, cracked my back, and bent over the wall again. This was going to be a long night.