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Bart pulled his head back to gasp for breath before kissing the boy. Bart’s fingers, still oily, slipped over Will’s hips, teasing the crack of his ass.
“I’m hard,” he reminded Will in a whisper. Will groaned. He’d probed himself with a finger, just enough to know how good it might feel. He took Bart’s place leaning over the chair.
“Fuck me,” he said, trying to make it a command rather than pleading. He was fairly certain he didn’t succeed.
“Martha, more oil,” Bart called. “You can anoint me,” he teased. Will didn’t look back, but the smacking sound was most likely their kiss. “You know what to do,” he told his wife, just before Will felt oil sliding over his ass.
“Look how he shines,” Martha gushed, her hand caressing.
Bart must have slapped it away because the next hand was larger and stronger, Bart’s. He gripped Will and thrust toward him.
Will screamed, not expecting pain. Fire burned along one edge of his asshole.
Bart pulled out quickly. “Are you well? Will?”
Will gasped and bent his head to the chair back. “Burning,” he groaned.
Bart touched his cock to Will’s ass again, but this time the pain wasn’t a surprise. Will breathed through it as he had many a lashing. He leaned back when Bart didn’t thrust. The slow inching minimized the burn, though he expected if Bart fucked him, it would return. Bart held him, and Will straightened, only bracing on the arms of the chair. Bart’s arms wrapped around Will’s chest, his fingers teasing nipples. He kissed and nibbled Will’s neck, making the black boy ease a little more.
“Why didn’t you say it was your first? Relax. I’ve got you. Martha will have us both in a moment.”
Will didn’t understand until he and Bart were both moving, just a fraction, but in a steady rhythm. As it went on, Bart grew and began to throb. That made Will’s cock rise again, the nerves in his ass teased with each nudge, each throb. He was being slowly brought closer to a second climax.
“Damnation, woman. Harder! Good Lord.” With the curse, Bart erupted in Will, pressing out on all sides while coating him in slippery seed. The throbbing ache building in Will’s cock peaked and he came moments after Bart.
Between the two men panting, Will almost didn’t hear Martha’s raspy breath. When he turned he saw her braced on Bart’s arms, a wooden dowel in her hand. It also had an oily sheen, a slightly larger knob, and a spot or two of brown on its edge. Looking at that bulbous end, it was clear to Will what it was built to resemble and why Martha was out of breath.
“If you’ll excuse us, I think the lady needs her bed.” Bart held Martha tight to his side while shuffling toward his pants. Will pulled his breeches on quickly and lifted the woman into his arms. Her head fell into the crook of his neck and she breathed deeply.
“So beautiful,” she murmured. “So shiny. So large. So strong.”
Bart, shirt hanging open, tapped his wife’s cheek with his fingers. “You’re delirious, Martha. Try to stay with us.” He smiled at Will. “She always was a bit weak.”
“Where?” Will asked, hefting Martha a little higher.
“Oh, this way.” Bart lead him around a corner and into the bedroom. Will laid Martha atop the covers. The woman’s eyes fluttered, but she was otherwise still.
“I suppose I’ll have to fight her out of all those clothes. Be grateful, Will, that you were born a man.”
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