"Fine." He says. "Next Friday, I'll touch you."
The end 🫡
"Fine." He says. "Next Friday, I'll touch you."
The end 🫡
The thought alone is what finishes him off.
The thought alone is what finishes him off.
Turns out Gaz's cunt is just as sweet as his sighs. His thighs shake around Price's head as he cums, drenching Price's chin, his neck, probably his fucking shirt as well.
Turns out Gaz's cunt is just as sweet as his sighs. His thighs shake around Price's head as he cums, drenching Price's chin, his neck, probably his fucking shirt as well.
"Better," Gaz moans.
And Price can't fucking take it anymore. "MacTavish," he orders, strained "Sit on my face. Can't touch, but my tongue is yours."
"Better," Gaz moans.
And Price can't fucking take it anymore. "MacTavish," he orders, strained "Sit on my face. Can't touch, but my tongue is yours."
Gaz's hips work harder until he's bouncing on it, leaning over to muffle his cries against Soap's lips in a sloppy kiss.
Gaz's hips work harder until he's bouncing on it, leaning over to muffle his cries against Soap's lips in a sloppy kiss.
"Don’t you fucking dare," Price grits. He can’t stop him. Can’t throw him off without touching him.
But Gaz doesn't listen, whining, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," between pleased little sobs.
"Don’t you fucking dare," Price grits. He can’t stop him. Can’t throw him off without touching him.
But Gaz doesn't listen, whining, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," between pleased little sobs.
Soap is watching intently, half-lidded eyes locked on Gaz's cunt, at how their captain's cock is threatening to breach him.
Soap is watching intently, half-lidded eyes locked on Gaz's cunt, at how their captain's cock is threatening to breach him.
It's not fraternization if he doesn't put it in, just lets Gaz slide his cock between those pretty wet panties and his even prettier, wetter cunt.
It's not fraternization if he doesn't put it in, just lets Gaz slide his cock between those pretty wet panties and his even prettier, wetter cunt.
"Knew you'd be packing, sir," Gaz says, cheeky glint in his eye as he grabs the base and angles Price against his clit over the panties.
"Knew you'd be packing, sir," Gaz says, cheeky glint in his eye as he grabs the base and angles Price against his clit over the panties.
Price's fists are clenched, fingernails biting his palms. He's not touching. He can't touch. It all falls apart if he touches them.
Price's fists are clenched, fingernails biting his palms. He's not touching. He can't touch. It all falls apart if he touches them.
Gaz straddles Price's spread thighs, forcing his own wide enough for his captain to see the wet spot steadily forming at the centre.
Gaz straddles Price's spread thighs, forcing his own wide enough for his captain to see the wet spot steadily forming at the centre.
Then he beckons Gaz over with two fingers.
Then he beckons Gaz over with two fingers.
Lacy, matching, sunset orange for Gaz and ocean blue for Soap.
Price's grip nearly shatters his glass. He sets it to one side.
Lacy, matching, sunset orange for Gaz and ocean blue for Soap.
Price's grip nearly shatters his glass. He sets it to one side.
It's a Friday night like any other. Price is exhausted and aching from another week full of bad guys and bullshit. Nothing some pretty pussy won't fix.
Three whiskeys deep, he's chomping at the bit by the time Soap and Gaz knock on his door.
It's a Friday night like any other. Price is exhausted and aching from another week full of bad guys and bullshit. Nothing some pretty pussy won't fix.
Three whiskeys deep, he's chomping at the bit by the time Soap and Gaz knock on his door.
There's no contact between him and them. He won’t touch them. Never. Thats the line he simply wont cross.
There's no contact between him and them. He won’t touch them. Never. Thats the line he simply wont cross.