Head 01 Hot Head (29 page)

prince: the perfect profile, the soft waves of his hair.

Griff swalowed. “You got it.”

Dante stepped closer, so they were almost face to face in their pants and suspenders. “I don’t know how far I can go, but if you make me, I bet I can go

further. And that’s more cash. I want to, okay? Far as you can push me.”

“I feel strange doing that, forcing you to do stuff.”
Like Tommy.

“I’m asking you to.” Dante looked awkward.

Then Alek stepped close and turned them loose on the set. He welcomed them to the site and asked them to introduce themselves.

“’S’up, guys!” Dante hammed it up for the camera, leaning down into frame. He was straddling the arm of the overstuffed chair where Griff was sitting so

their legs overlapped. He squeezed Griff’s shoulder roughly. “My buddy’s got a problem.”

Griff knew his mouth was a tight, uncomfortable line, but he waved.

Alek knelt for a side view of the chair and signaled Dante down.

Dante waved as wel and set the scene for the fans, perched on the arm of Griff’s chair. “Uhh, hi guys. So, Duff’s girlfriend has been holding out, but he can’t cheat with some broad. Not how he rols, right? And since we’re buddies….” Dante slid off the chair arm and down to the floor. “I thought maybe I could, ya

know, help out.”

His shoulders looked olive under the stark red suspenders. Then he was crouched between Griff’s spread thighs, looking up through his lashes with a bad-

boy twinkle as he took off the helmet. He gingerly rested his hands on Griff’s knees and waited for permission. “This okay, man?”

Griff gave a grunt of assent and then realized Alek wanted him to use words. “Fucking great.” He licked his dry lips.

Dante leaned forward over his torso, close enough that warmth bounced between them.

With half-lidded eyes, Griff watched Dante lift a hand and run it over his rust-furred chest, brushing the pink nipples so that they tightened and peaked. He

could feel Dante’s breath on his colarbone. He felt drugged by the spiraling pleasure, like he was bound to the chair, Dante’s captive. His cannon surged inside his bunker pants. He shifted his butt in the chair, enjoying the delicious ache. There wasn’t even whiskey in his veins to blame.

“That feels fuckin’ crazy,” Griff murmured.

Dante looked up at him, surprised, and then hooked his mouth into a dirty smile. He nodded and leaned over to suck lightly on Griff’s tit.

Alek stepped around to the side, camera angled down at Dante grazing over the chiseled slope of Griff’s pectorals. He gave them a thumbs-up.

Ka-ching!
Griff practicaly heard Alek’s thumb jingle like a cash register. Dirty talk would mean a bigger bonus. Everybody would get something they wanted if Griff just fucking gave in to temptation.

Be with him
.
Be grateful. Be brave.

So Griff held Dante’s head with his wide hand, threading his fingers through the curls to tug that wine-stain mouth to his other pale pec. He thought about

Tommy being manhandled in that aley and squeezed tighter, yanking Dante’s hair.

Groaning at the pressure, Dante nuzzled and nursed hungrily at him, biting and licking at both sensitive nubs until they stood hard and rosy under the red

suspenders. Griff let Dante raise his arm and lick his pit. Dante pushed his face right into the bright hairs buried there and licked the sensitive skin hard.

Griff shivered. “Different than a chick, huh?” Dante’s mouth made him jerk pleasurably like he was having a seizure.

Dante nuzzled and sucked at his pit until Griff yanked his head to the other side and raised that arm, offering the other muscular holow for the same treatment.

Dante dove in hungrily. When he raised his dark eyes, Dante was panting and his swolen mouth was wet. “So different. So fucking strong.”

Alek pushed in close, zooming in on Dante’s wet tongue as it slicked the bright hair under Griff’s massive arms, then over the swolen biceps.

Griff watched his friend act hungry. “You’re eating it, man. Does it taste good?”

Dante pushed his wet face back into his friend’s brawny chest, rubbing against the crisp red hair like a cat. He was talking under his breath. “I thought about it. At the firehouse. In the shower, in the bunk, in the damn rig….”

More porn bulshit. Griff could almost hear the invisible bonus meter roling:
ka-ching, ka-jing-ching.

He moaned anyway. He didn’t care if it was a lie, and his dick didn’t know the difference. He took hold of Dante’s hand roughly, dragging it back to the wad

of meat flaring his zipper.

Griff’s voice was hoarse and urgent. “I’m right here, man. You don’t have to think about it.” Then he stood over his best friend, forcing his head back, and

recited state capitals silently to keep himself from getting hard too fast.

Think about anything else. Don’t watch him. Don’t shoot in sixty seconds.

Dante squeezed his basket carefuly, mapping it through the quilted fabric. His eyes were locked below the curl of cinnamon that circled Griff’s navel and

plunged out of sight. “Fuck, dude. Meat and potatoes.”

Alek knelt to get a tight profile of Dante worshipping the monster.

I can do this.

Griff’s blush washed hot across his shoulders and chest, thankfuly out of frame, baking his face with excruciating shyness. “C’mon, buddy. Don’t be shy.”

Dante popped a button with shaking fingers.

“Not like that. Use your fucking mouth.” Again he puled at Dante’s head.

Dante’s eyes flicked up to his. An imperceptible nod told Griff he was playing this exactly right.

Good boy
.

Dante pressed his Roman profile into the crotch of the pants, searching for the zipper with his tongue. He caught it and bit down, tugging it between his

gleaming teeth. The thick, hooded shaft sprang forward, dabbing Dante’s cheek.

“Good boy….” Griff dropped one of his suspenders so only one strap, his erection, and the high curve of his asscheeks were holding his pants up.

A purring sound below him. Dante was making a low rumble of pleasure in his chest. Then, without warning, Dante pushed him hard so that he fel back onto

the leather throne, knees splayed, his bals pooling on the leather. His helmet was knocked loose and spun on the carpet like an upended turtle.

“Hey!”

“Yeah, right.” Dante sank to his knees and snorted. “Like you can’t take it. Like I can’t.”

Griff stroked his wide erection. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“You have no idea, man.”

Somewhere behind Dante, Alek shifted position, but everything had telescoped to the two of them. Just them. Griff gripped the arms of the chair.

Dante reached out and squeezed Griff’s boner til the veins stood out in blue relief. He opened his mouth and went for it, his dark head bobbing at Griff’s lap.

I wish I could see his eyes.

For a minute the only noise was the lights humming and the muffled suckling that sounded as good as it felt. Griff’s eyes and mouth opened in warning. Dante

began to turn red, struggling to breathe around the intruder.

Griff pushed him back, glaring at Alek. “Wait. Wait. Time! Time out.”

Just like that, Dante coughed and puled off and looked up, blinking. He rocked back on his heels, drooling and eyes wild. He stood, rocking his weight.

Griff sighed in relief. He’d been close. Too close. He shrugged out of the other suspender and caught his breath.

Dante paced around the room. He looked a little skeeved and panicky.

Uhh, duh?

Dante unbuttoned his own turnout pants and tugged the zipper down. His own dick was half-hard. He strode back to Griff and sank to his knees again

between the beefy thighs. He nodded at Alek to continue and puled off Griff’s heavy boots. He shucked the pants too, stripping Griff buck-ass naked on the black chair.

“Roling.” Alek was keeping quiet and giving them plenty of space, like they were an endangered species visiting his zoo.

Griff squinted a silent question at Dante.
You okay?

Dante reached for Griff’s freckled hands, puling them to the back of his own curly head.

What was he doing? What did he want?

In reply, Dante pushed Griff’s fingers
into
his hair around the back of his head and strained forward, forcing the rosy cock into his face.

He wants me to fuck his mouth. To force him.

Griff blushed and looked down at his friend. His Neanderthal dick had no problem with the idea.

Down on the floor, Dante was waiting for him to take charge, suckling at Griff’s meat with wet abandon… but he needed Griff to make him take it.

Griff squeezed Dante’s head with spread hands, lacing his broad fingers through the scorched silk of his wavy hair.

Dante gave a little nod and took a breath. Like he was getting ready to run into a blaze.

Griff flexed his heavy arms and puled Dante’s handsome face toward his fiery pubes. He driled into slippery heat.

A gasp to the side made him glance over at Alek holding the camera on his knees trying to cover what was happening. The Russian had a boner in his chinos.

Griff shook his head and tried to ignore the other man’s presence the way Dante obviously could. He hunched deeper.

Dante gave a grunt of approval, and the vibration shivered along the fat shaft straining inside his mouth. He breathed through his nostrils and seemed fine until the wide head nudged the back of his throat. He jerked in surprise and puled off.

“Sorry.” Griff knew this was impossible.

“Bulshit, man. Hefty.” Dante stretched his mouth enough to scream and stuck out his tongue, like it had cramped. “Just didn’t expect….”

“I don’t want to gag you, dumbass.”

“I’m sturdy. Push me down on it. I gotta big mouth.”

Griff laughed at that. “No shit.”

Dante laughed too. “You’re not gonna hurt me. I practiced.”

He what?!

“The fuck you did!”

“Are you kidding? I’m not retarded. After last time, I knew what kinda punishment I was in for. I can take it. Make me.” Dante glanced sideways at the

camera.

Sure enough, on the sidelines, Alek nodded and gave another
ka-ching
thumbs-up. He’d caught al that on camera.

Shit!
Maybe he’d edit it out?

Fat chance, fuckwit.

Then Dante was swalowing around his ful length again, and Griff’s eyes closed.

Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.

After a few moments, Griff realized that Alek had stopped filming and was watching them with his hand covering his own erection. “If you’d like to try

something else, I have plenty of footage of the felatio.”

But Dante sat back on his heels and his dick arched out of the yawn of his zipper. “Fuck that! We’re not done. Huh, G?” He looked pissed and his eyes

were watering. He coughed and cleared his throat. “I’m fine. I’m just not used to it. I think I can get him off like that. No hands. That’d be cool, huh?”

“Certainly, but I was just going to suggest—”

“Gimme a sec. It’s a tusk. Lemme try….” Dante leaned over the arm of the chair and pushed onto the erection from above, the angle easier, apparently. He

hummed in triumph. He maneuvered himself until he was curled across the arm and back of the leather chair angled over Griff’s torso so he could keep his mouth where it could do the most damage.

Griff felt something nudge his ear and realized Dante’s hips were next to his face. The loose bals draped over one tawny thigh, the curve of his hard-on

bobbing in the air just eight inches from Griff’s lips. Dante’s hips twitched.

Medium-rare. Dante’s dick is exactly the color of medium-rare.
Griff’s face drew closer to the head. A couple more inches and it would be in his mouth.

He knew Dante could feel his breath ghosting over it; the glossy skin was hypnotic. Al he had to do was open his mouth and he could touch it with his tongue, taste it. Almost…. He raised his hand tentatively and stroked it lightly.

Dante twisted up to look through thick sooty lashes at his dick angled a few inches from Griff’s pink mouth, making sure Griff was sure.

Griff shook his head and bit his lip, but he didn’t let go. “Wel… I feel weird just sitting here.”

Thumbs-up from Alek:
ka-ching! Ka-ching-a-jing!

“You don’t have to,” Dante whispered up at him.

“It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s more dough, right?”
Yeah, that makes sense.
Griff felt like a scumbag, but he had to taste it while he had the chance.

Dante nodded and grunted permission.

Griff gripped the rigid bone and ran his tongue up the length to taste the salty crown. The musk exploded in his mouth.

Perfect.

“Ohhh.” Dante clenched his toes and dropped his face back onto Griff’s meat.

Somewhere off to the side, it sounded like Alek stood and circled around them, snapping stils. He crouched closer to film from the new angle, missing

nothing.

The cock in Griff’s mouth surged, veins standing out in firm relief. It felt like he was about to… Dante was coming already?! Wasn’t it too soon? Griff felt

cold air on his own shaft as Dante reared up and gasped.

“Alek?”

“I’m here. Do it.” Alek squatted and leaned over them.

Dante roled onto his back on the arm of the chair, dropped his head back so his hair swung toward the floor. He snapped his hips forward, crunching his abs

hard… then—
pow-pow
—blew his load over his etched torso. The semen ran toward the holow of his throat til he sat up, smiling.

Confused, Griff caught Dante’s eye to figure out what the hel he was supposed to do. Was it over already?

Dante winked over at him. “I couldn’t stop myself, man. Don’t worry; I’m good for more. I promise.”

He was going for a twofer.
Cocky son of a bitch
. He was gonna bust twice for another bonus. Chest heaving, Dante ran his fingers down to scrape some

cum off his torso and sucked his fingers clean. He seemed to fucking love the taste, or at least he made a show of it for the camera.