Sex in C Major
Chapter 21

It pushed between his thighs. Daz's weight pinned his hips down. His hands were spread wide on Stefan's waist.

He thrust down.

Stefan screamed.

He opened his lungs and screamed as the dildo moved inside. As Daz's dick fucked his thighs like a second cunt. As slick precum and his own lube mixed on his skin, hot and wet. As his nerves fought to replace release, and were denied. As his cock was left alone, the only thing untouched, the only thing he needed-

Footsteps.

Stairs.

The door handle turning.

Stefan closed his eyes and shook. Shook under Daz's hands. Shook around the immense cock inside of him. His skin burned and prickled. Sweat ran down his chest and arms. His clothes were soaked. And yet as he heard two men breathe, as he knew the disaster that was about to unfold-all he wanted was Daz's mouth on his dick.

"Trust you," said a voice, "to replace yourself a screamer."

A hand clamped down over Stefan's mouth. His eyes flew open.

Boyfriend stared back, his eyes as black as space and twice as deep.

"Does it always scream like that?" he breathed.

Stefan whimpered.

Daz-chuckled.

"Let's replace out," he said.

Teeth scraped the very edges of Stefan's cock.

And Stefan came.

He howled against the stranger's palm. He writhed against Daz's lips. His muscles ripped themselves apart in pleasure, and his nerves dissolved in the mess of fear and lust in his veins.

Then-

Nothing. 9

It was dark when Stefan woke.

He woke alone, buried in the duvet. He was still in the master bedroom. The door was cracked ajar.

And there was no sign of what had happened.

For the longest moment, Stefan lay and stared at the ceiling, his brain both panicking and trying to deny it had been anything but a hallucination brought on by a multiple orgasm. There was simply no way that Daz's boyfriend had walked in on them having sex, put his hand over Stefan's mouth, and practically told Daz to continue fucking him.

Was there?

Only...

He was in their bedroom, and the door was open, and Stefan could hear two people downstairs. Someone was singing in the kitchen or hall. And someone else was playing the piano further back in the house.

Oh God, they were both here.

So-so it was real.

It had happened.

Stefan had been caught sleeping with Boyfriend's...boyfriend. And Boyfriend had had what? Joined in? Accepted it?

Knew about it?

Stefan blinked.

Had Boyfriend known? He hadn't seemed...surprised. Even...even standing in mute shock would have made sense. Exploding would have made more sense. But...shutting Stefan up and telling Daz to replace out if he always screamed like that?

That...didn't.

Stefan swallowed. He had no idea what was about to happen. Was that it, it was all over, get out and carry on? Or...

Or what?

Surely Boyfriend wouldn't be okay with Daz screwing someone else, would he? Unless...

Unless...the idea was that they...shared Stefan?

Unless Daz had been priming him for...both of them?

Stefan felt a chill go up his spine at that idea. Had Daz been reeling him in, and now he'd be expected to submit to both of them? Daz had said that things would get ugly if Boyfriend found out. What if Boyfriend didn't use safewords and things? What if Daz was the the introductory offer, and Boyfriend was the contract that broke your legs if you refused to pay up?

Stefan had to get out.

Now.

He sat up-and immediately gasped, sinking back down, as hot pain roared up his pelvis. Oh, God. He whimpered through it as his thighs joined the protest. He felt torn open. He felt hollow and empty-and oddly like he would piss himself if he stood up.

He tried to clench down-and the pain firmly insisted he could now.

Oh, God, he really had been fucked open.

His arms trembled as he pushed himself up again. His knees wobbled, but he managed to slide free of the bed and then realised the other problem. His clothes were gone.

But with the pain came a burst of endorphins. The more he moved, the more collected Stefan felt. It was a bedroom. There were wardrobes. He could borrow something, until they gave his clothes back.

The first wardrobe contained stacks of jeans and folded T-shirts, and a pile of flowery scarves that Stefan simply stared at in confusion before closing the door and trying the other one. This was luckier. He found a dressing gown-too long for him, but it would do and Stefan tied the belt tightly like it could defend him before shuffling to the door and quietly pulling it open. The hall was empty. The other doors were closed. A ginger cat launched itself off the windowsill, and went scampering down the stairs.