Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. ❤️
Maverick, who just readily accepts that dating Iceman includes Slider. Not as a friend, no, he's dating the two of them.
He's not entirely sure that Iceman and Slider know they're dating, or that they're all in a relationship. When he asks Nick, his RIO tells him that Ice and Sli think their "friendship" is normal.
Pete thinks that if he made fuck-me eyes at Goose like Slider does at Iceman, Carole would have every right to beat his ass.
It only starts to dawn on the tall fuckers that they're all entangled when Pete shows up at Tom's uninvited one day. He walks in, nips at Tom's cheek when he walks by then kisses it better. They don't falter. When he does the same to Ron, he gets to watch them have a silent conversation that consists solely of wide eyes and eyebrow twitches.
Yet, no one says a word about it. Ron cooks, from what Pete knows, it's a rare occasion. With great amusement, he watches the RIO lick sauce from Tom's lips half way through dinner. The blonde huffs, but makes no move to push him away. Ever the overdramatic diva.
Later, they retire to the couch and Pete, subtle to his core, parks his ass on Ron's lap. Enough alcohol has been consumed to lower Tom's guard and he gets the utter pleasure of hearing him snort. Ron simply rests his chin on Pete's shoulder and mutters, "S'a good thing you're fucking pint-sized."
He'll never truly understand the extent of the Iceman and Slider relationship, not that it bothers him. They've been a pair for years before he started eyeing their asses in the shower. And they never question his familial relationship with Nick, no amount of honeys or dears exchanged is enough to spark an insecurity in either man.
It's a little funny, though. The day Slider walks into the bedroom post shower and asks, ever so bluntly, "Wait, if I let you blow me does that make me gay?"
Something, something nerdy!Robby wearing a button up with the sleeves rolled and it opened past his chest while sitting in frat boy!Jack’s lap so they can make out…
and Jack is wearing a stupid backwards cap and a muscle tank so Robby can run his hands over his biceps…
and their dicks are rubbing together through Robby’s slacks and Jack’s basketball shorts…
Any time Jack wants to introduce a new kink to his lovely, naive husband, he trains their pornhub algorithm.
Robby’s a smart man, but there’s an old school aversion to technology, specifically the internet, that he’s never really managed to shake. And porn? When they first got together, Robby’s only forays into exploring pornography were fucking skin mags. Otherwise, it was a bottle of inadequate lotion, his hand, and his eyes squeezed shut as shame and arousal competed in a tug-of-war battle within him to decide whether he’d be able to even orgasm.
Jack’s been on a one man mission to rectify this since before they even said “I do.”
But the important takeaway is, Robby doesn’t really understand that the videos on Pornhub’s homepage are curated based on your browsing and watching interests. He doesn’t know he’s being lured into a trap….because Jack has been seeding the algorithm.
Even watching gay porn sometimes feels too naughty for a man in his fifties who learned how his dick worked between the glossy pages of Playboy. But with his own personal pornstar – one Dr Jack Abbot – running him ragged at home, Robby is increasingly drawn to the sight of two men tangled up in each other. Tender, intense lovemaking between a hairy, giving top paired with a gorgeous, minx bottom—
—That’s not what he’s watching now. Not what the video he clicked on has turned out to be. It looked — the bottom had Jack’s exact build— there’s no way Robby could resist selecting it.
It’s a couple. A compilation. Different shots around their apartment. The first part is sweet, the two of them in their bed, kissing, making love. The bottom cums, and the top finishes inside him. The top presses a kiss to his temple, and Robby hears the words he murmurs to his partner:
“And that’s your one for the day, okay?”
The bottom nods, gasping as a plug is slid inside his loaded hole, and the ln watching trepidatiously as his man tucks his soft cock into a cage. Robby, laying back on his own bed, slowing his stroking as he tries to wrap his head around what’s happening.
The scene changes, the bottom in skimpy shorts as he washes dishes. The top comes up behind him, yanks pants down, coaxes out his lover’s plug, and fucks him hard against the sink as the bottom wails. Robby’s breathing stutters as his strokes speed up. The top snarls as he fills his partner — and the bottom is plugged, left in the kitchen with his shorts around his ankles, having not cum. Robbies eyes widen.
They’re in the living room, next, the bottom pinned to the couch as the top takes what he wants from his sloppy hole before being plugged and abandoned again once the top takes his pleasure. The scene repeats against a wall in a hallway, and then again in the bathroom, and Robby is panting, whining, frantically working his thick cock, shocked by how this selfish display of free use is getting him this worked up— and then the door to his own bedroom opens up, and Jack walks in.
————————
dont look at me pls
When Jack walks in, Robby freezes. There's no way to hide what he was doing, with his hand on his cock and his naked body and the laptop between his legs, the obscene sound of moaning and fucking coming from it.
Robby would hide, except he's so close, and he can't fathom stopping, it would be torture. So he just watches in vague horror as Jack smirks and comes in, climbing into bed with him. "Don't stop on my account. You liked the porn I picked out for you, huh?"
Robby is too lust addled, drunk on what's happening on the screen before him, to decipher what that means.
(more below)
"Using the good shit this time, I see," Jack says, pleased, touching the lube bottle he's always trying to get Robby to use, expensive and smooth as butter instead of that shitty lotion Robby prefers. Robby whimpers, turning towards him, needing him.
"You ever think about doing that to me?" Jack whispers, jerking his chin at the screen. Robby whimpers on the tail of a rush of guilt and shame, because no, he can't want that, what kind of asshole comes inside his man time after time without getting him off in return, who does that?
It hasn't gotten easier since the first time he walked in on Jack watching porn, when Robby blushed and stuttered his way out of the room until Jack so fondly laughed, "Baby, you were inside me this morning," and coaxed Robby to join him. Watching porn like this has never been as easy and natural for Robby as it is for Jack, and the thought that Jack spent time picking out something he wanted Robby to like--
"Want to watch you come all over yourself," Jack whispers, "make a big old fucking mess. The prettiest mess I've ever seen." He ghosts a hand over Robby's cock for a split second, breathing on his neck, whispering in his ear, and that slight hint of stimulation from his husband combined with the porn is enough to send Robby catapulting over the edge.
It feels like the orgasm is ripped from the depths of his stomach, groaning and gasping and whining as the couple on the screen have another free use round. Jack is murmuring smug praise in Robby's ear, biting his jaw, stroking him through it.
Robby knows he's going to wind up just like the top in that video if Jack gets his way. He's not complaining.
Augustine specifically is so funny to me because imagine forgetting you're a man in stem, forgetting all about Misogyny Classic, living 10k years, becoming a saint, and then deciding your colleague who's a woman is just hysterical and her specialty is useless, unlike you who's likeable and useful. But who knows why you think this!
Well I read “augustine”, “saint” and “misogyny” and immediately thought this was about St Augustine, Christian philosopher and notorious misogynist, and was surprised I did not know he had initially been a man of science, or as you called it, STEM, and only paused when I hit “living 10k years”
"Later that night, Mav wouldn’t be able to recall if there was an actual demand from the room to see the skirt.
He can’t really fathom why Chipper would go along with it, even if there was. Surely it was bad form to show off an item of clothing your girlfriend slipped into your luggage for your eyes only?
Or maybe there was such a demand, and he simply didn’t want to remember it because that would mean the events that followed were a result of simple masculine curiosity, and not, as he will maintain to his dying day, a calculated tactical maneuver to rid him of his already depleted dignity."
Tagging @fuddlewuddle and @adevotedreader, only as part of the game and projecting zero expectations. Wow this is such a great way to make friends/create enemies
