Untitled Threesome

by Keelywolfe

James Kirk has never shied away from a thing in his life. Really, it's a point of pride by now and if it can be drunk, he'll drink it, if there is the slightest chance it can be done then by God he'll do it and yes, thank you, he will hit that.

Of course, that's before he is drooling around the hard length of a Vulcan cock in his mouth, groaning and wincing at the strength of the thrusts inside him. He pulls off for just a second, trying to catch his breath and the gentle touch of fingers in his hair make him glance up, meeting dark eyes with his own. The emotion visible in them makes him catch his breath and fuck, who could ever resist that? Not this mother's son. He'd never been much of the resisting type, anyway.

He might have responded to it, maybe with words, maybe just with a little more of his inexpert and possibly slobbery blowjob, if a particularly vicious thrust hadn't sent him skidding forward on the sheets, burying his face back into the lap of the older man in front of him.

Some little distant part of him is watching it all with amusement. Two men who were the same and different; the Spock currently on his knees behind him, version 2.0, made no pretense of tenderness, his fingers hard and brutal on Jim's hips and there will be bruises tomorrow, that he knows, dark smudges painted on pale skin and he'll touch each one, relish the soft pain.

For now, he bites his lip on a yowl because Spock's cock is shoving hard inside him, banging against that little feels-so-good spot and he is blindly licking the hot, hot cock in front him, tasting the copper-sweet fluid that passes for Vulcan pre-come and his nose is buried in silky, wiry hair.

Spock inside him, buried in his ass and his mouth, filling every place in him and he has to reach in front him, fumbling for a hand or balls or anything, has to fill his hands, the taste, the smell, the feel of it is not enough; he has to have it all.

The soft groan above him is a warning and hot spurts fill his mouth for him to eagerly swallow, this Spock who is everything that his Spock will become, only Jim is too greedy to wait. Yes, he wants that, yes, he'll take that, suck that, fuck that. Yes and yes. He takes what both of them offer, shuddering, half-gagged by the softening cock in his mouth and when he comes it's like a pounding haze gutters through him, dimming his vision and a thin whine escapes him as the other Spock, his Spock, thrusts in again, choking off his own little sounds as he spills deep inside.

If either of them is ashamed or embarrassed or, God forbid, feeling illogical, they don't say. They curl around him, hands touching, and Jim sleepily realizes he can tell who is who, gentler, older hands stroke him while younger hands are jerkier, awkward, almost too-firm. He's sore and sticky, the heavy smell of their mingled semen in the air and still thick on the back of his tongue and yeah, he doesn't shy away from any of it, buries his face into the neck nearest to him and breathes it in, still utterly surrounded by Spock. He can't think of a single place or person he'd rather be with...unless Spocks suddenly decided to come in a three pack.

Yeah. He'd hit that.
 

-finis-

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