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This page last viewed: 2017-10-17 and has been viewed 1624 times

We Played It My Way

We Played It My Way
by
Lacy


Rating: PWP-NC-17
Yet another continuation of "The Games Men Play" and "Boys Will Be Boys".

***

Heavy breathing filled the air of the small room, the chair squeaking as weight was shifted. The dark skinned, long haired man looked up, a smile crossing his face. "Care for a game of air hockey?"


Hunt looked down at the young man who had so recently brought him to the heights of passion. He ran a hand through Frankie Santana's hair, nodding, his lip curling into a half smile. "Oh yes, but, we're going to play it...my way."

The look that went through the eyes of the young man was nothing more than pure excitement. Ever since he had been working with Hunt, they had always done things his way, even in bed, and that excited him more than he knew.

Gently, he tucked the now flaccid member of Stockwell's body back into the suit pants, returning the General back to his in control look. He smiled as he was pulled to his feet, a kiss planted on his
lips. Hunt turned him towards the door and with a not to gentle pat on his behind, started him towards the basement.

The person in the shadows shook their head, content for now just to watch as this whole situation played itself out. This was more than interesting to them. Maybe this information could be used in the future?

The basement still smelled of the sex the other couples had left behind. Stockwell smiled, looking around at the scattered clothes. He knew what made these men fight so hard and what kept them loyal. Love was a many a splendored thing. He smiled as he felt the hands slid around his waist.

Turning in the man's embrace, arms holding each other, a smile on both sets of lips. The silence was only broken when Frankie said "So....how do you play air hockey your way?" Stockwell leaned down, capturing those talented lips and tongue with his own, the nearness of his lover driving him wild. They stood, locked in their kiss, the figure from the shadows creeping closer.

Hunt pulled away from Frankie's sweet mouth, a smile teasing the edge's of his lips. "Well, the rules are simple actually. You've often said you would like to be the...top. My suggestion is that we play the best two out of three. The winner becomes the top for the day. The loser, well, the loser doesn't totally lose, they get to partake of the spy that has been watching since the beginning. Carla, would you mind joining us?"

A very embarrassed, very aroused Carla stepped through the door. Her eyes were on the floor, trying not to stare at her boss and his younger lover. Frankie looked up at Stockwell with wide eyes. "She's been watching from the beginning?"

The General nodded, releasing Frankie and stepping over to Carla. He lifted her head, looking into her eyes. "Have we sufficiently aroused you, Carla?" She looked up into his eyes, only able to nod. Stockwell smiled, releasing her chin. "Frankie, a T-shirt please."

Frankie didn't know what Stockwell was up to, but he handed him the shirt anyway. It looked like it belonged to B.A. Frankie sighed, thinking about what he and Hunt had watched on the security camera's. That's why Frankie had been forced to his knees, made to service The General. Not like it was something he didn't like doing. All the commands made him feel safe, cared for, loved. He would do anything for Hunt Stockwell.

Stockwell took the shirt and ordered Carla to turn around. He ripped the shirt, then tied pieces around Carla's wrists, ankles and finally mouth. He turned her, and sat her on the couch. "Since you enjoy watching so much, you can watch our game. Afterwards, you will be apart of the prize. Do I make myself clear?"

Carla nodded vigorously. That's why she had been watching in the first place. She knew all about everyone's pairing in the house. She had know about The General and Frankie from their first time. She desperately wanted to be apart if their "playtime", so she had watched, learned the dynamic of this relationship and then learned how to become involved. Anything the General wanted, she would gladly go along with it.

Satisfied that she wouldn't be escaping, Stockwell turned back to Frankie, taking off the yellow aviator glasses, his coat and his tie. "Grab a paddle lover. This will not take long."

Carla sat in agony as she watched the two men compete. She needed release. She had had a great view of the security monitors as well and had seen what had happened in this room. The room still smelled of sex and that only excited her more.

Back and forth the game went, no competitor gaining the upper hand. Finally, after Frankie became distracted by an open shirt and a sly smile and wink, Stockwell won the first game.

The second game continued as the first, no one winning but no one losing. The continuous slapping of the puck created a rhythm that each man, and woman, wanted to duplicate. Again, the game came down to the last point and with a sly grin of his own, not to mention an unbuttoned pair of button fly jeans, Frankie evened the score.

Carla watched as each man shed the vest they were wearing. This was than a game to them now. This was a chance to shift the power of the relationship, if even for only a day. The puck flew, the rhythm created again. This game ended with a different dynamic in place.

Frankie looked at Hunt. He'd won. Frankie Santana had beaten the great Hunt Stockwell. He smiled, his grin brightening up the room. "All right, Hunt. Strip. I want to see you first." Frankie took a seat next to Carla, one hand caressing her thigh as he watched the show.

Stockwell stood before the two, and started to undress. He was used to getting this sort of show, not presenting it. He knew his movements weren't sexy, but he could tell that the younger man and woman were getting excited. Frankie's hand was moving higher and higher underneath the hem of the red skirt Carla was wearing; her hips were moving nonstop to make him move closer.

Frankie smiled, watching the older man. He knew how uncharacteristic this was for him and almost felt sorry for him. Almost that was. When Stockwell was fully undressed in front of him, he smiled, standing up, bringing Carla along with him. He removed the strip of cloth from her mouth, gently kissing her. "You heard the rules. You belong to the loser. Hunt, tell her what to do."

Hunt smiled, turning Carla around. He released her hands and allowed her to bend and untie her ankles. When she was free once again, he nodded. "I want to see what I've won." He leaned against the table, waiting on her.

She didn't need that much convincing. Soon, she was standing, all clothes removed, letting both men take her body in. Her shapely calves, leading up to toned thighs, leading up to a smooth, taunt
stomach, beautifully rounded breasts, her beautiful face and silky hair.

Frankie took her all in, then looked at Stockwell. He saw the look in his eye and he knew what he wanted. He smiled, nodding, motioning for them both to come over and start undressing him. The two sets of hands were marvelously arousing. Each touch causing his body to respond.

Before to much time passed, he was as naked as those around him. Each drank in the sight of their lovers naked bodies. Frankie took in the body of the man he knew so well. Each curve, each muscle, well known to him. Looking at Carla, watching as Hunt ran his hands over her skin, memorizing her curves as well.

Hunt watched his hands move over his assistant. Her way her skin was moving under his hands was to much for him. He gently, but firmly, pushed her over to the couch, forcing her to lie down. He moved to lay between her legs. His hand began moving over her again, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through both bodies.

Frankie stood admiring the way Hunt made love. Everything was so precise, so in control. A smile upturned his lips. He loved making him lose that control. He looked around the table, finding the
discarded tube of lube that the whole house insisted on using. He watched as Hunt caressed Carla, preparing her for what was to come. Frankie leaned against the table, his hand gently stroking the lube onto his already hardened member, aching to be inside Stockwell the way he had always wanted to be.

They had switched positions once or twice in their relationship, but mostly Stockwell controlled the pace. Frankie didn't mind, but sometimes, he liked hearing Hunt calling his name for a change. Carla was soon begging to be taken. The General's practiced hands bringing her so close to the edge, only to back off, forcing her to calm down, then using his tongue to bring her close again. His kisses burned like fire as he moved up her body, capturing her lips again.

Frankie moved away from the table, running a hand over Hunt's back. Their eyes met and they both looked at Carla, who was nodding furiously. Frankie positioned himself behind the two, and together, he and Hunt pushed forward into absolute pleasure.

The weight of the man behind him drove Hunt into her deeply. She gasped, her hands braced against his forearms. He looked at her, pausing for a moment, until she adjusted to him, then nodded, kissing him deeply.

Frankie stopped as well, letting Hunt adjust. It had been a long time since they had done anything like this and he didn't want any discomfort to spoil this day. He felt Hunt pull out of Carla, preparing to thrust in, and together they created a rhythm.

He didn't have to move his hips much, just let Hunt come back to him. He tried different strokes, rolling his hips, grinding in circles as Hunt pushed back onto him. Each one forcing a new sound from his lovers throat. Kisses planted along his spine causing him to arch when he came back to him. The woman beneath him, sucking at his neck, giving him two, no, three different points of pleasure.

Carla was delirious. Never had she felt these sensations. Never had she been filled this full by any man. Never had she been in a threesome. She smiled. This was going to have to become a regular
thing for them.

Frankie couldn't keep his hand to himself. They roamed from Hunt's back as rear, down to Carla's sides and beautiful breasts. The drops of sweat fell onto Stockwell's back, rolling off and splashing onto Carla. He could see her eyes were closed and that she was pushing against Hunt's thrusts, taking him in deeper and deeper. He started to tighten, watching to two of them together.

She felt that familiar tightening starting in her stomach. She put her legs up, trying to wrap around the two men, trying to pull them closer into her. There were hands all over her, hands cupping her
breasts, fingers rolling a sensitive nipple, a tongue bringing one to an aroused peak. Her head was thrown back, her mouth opened in pleasure.

And then she came. It was like nothing she had ever experienced in this world before. Every muscle tightened, held, then released. She felt herself go limp, her legs falling to the couch, her head rolling
to the side.

Hunt couldn't take it anymore. After he felt her tighten around him, then felt the warmth of her release, he felt his balls tighten, then he released into her. He pushed as far ash he could, feeling himself empty deep inside her. He grunted and groaned, the collapsed onto her, holding her tightly.

Frankie continued moving within Hunt. He felt his release against his own tight, constricted balls. He groaned, pushing deep and then felt that sweet release. He shook with the exertion, groaning, calling out his lovers name, the falling against his back. Kisses found their way to his neck and shoulders.

"Uh...guys. I'm not complaining or anything, what just happened was amazing and I can't wait to do it again, but, if you don't move, I'm not going to be able to join in next time." Carla gave a gentle push against Hunt's chest as she spoke.

Frankie sighed and slowly withdrew, picking up the pieces of the torn T-shirt to wipe everyone clean. Satisfied and very sated, they all left the basement, content to go to Frankie's room and "rest" for the remainder of the afternoon. Carla slept in Frankie's arms, while The General watched over and held them both close.

***

Murdock crept from the shadows. His ever present grin now wider than before. Facey was never going to believe what he just watched. He went into the room to retrieve his hat and jacket and was amazed at the amount of extra clothing he found. He saw Hannibal's jacket, B.A.'s sneakers, yellow glasses that were definitely Stockwell's, Frankie's leather vest and Carla's stockings. He laughed, turning and heading back upstairs.

He came back in the room however, checking the walls. He smiled as he saw the glint of a security camera. He giggled all the way back upstairs, thinking how surprised they all would be on their next
movie night.

He was stopped on the stairs again, and backed into the room. B.A., Hannibal and Face were all there. He swallowed, looking at them, seeing all they had on were the smiles that told him they were up to something. He grinned nervously. "He...Hey guys. What's up?"

B.A. giggled as he shut the door to the room. "Told you I was going to thank the Crazy Man for making us get this table."


Fini???????

 


We Played It My Way by Lacy

 

 


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