“Yes, Sir,” Vincent said, the bloom in his cheeks a light, blush pink, the blue of his eyes vivid around his dilated pupils.
“Take that pretty skirt and pull it up to your chest, so I can see those divine panties I caught glimpses of earlier.”
Matteo smiled as he watched Vincent take the hem of the blue skirt in his fingers and drag it upward.
“Che bello,” Matteo muttered as the baby-doll panties were revealed—white satin with rows of frills—that made Vincent look like he had a role at the Moulin Rouge. They were luscious and shiny and dainty in a way that delighted me, seeing them on my very pretty boy, who no doubt had an erection underneath the copious frills where it remained hidden for now.
“Matteo, would you like to give our pretty baby a blow job?”
“Indeed I would.”
The skirt in Vincent’s hands fluttered as he lifted it higher and gazed with longing at Matteo.
“On your knees, then. And pull down those scintillating panties so we can see what Vincent’s got for us.”
“Yes, Sir,” Matteo said, his voice gruff as he fell to his knees before Vincent.
Vincent gasped as Matteo’s fingers—probably still cold from being outside—slid beneath the delicate waistband of the baby dolls and pushed the shiny fabric down, revealing a very swollen cock that looked downright indecent beneath the blue skirt.
“Oh Lord almighty,” I breathed. “I may not be a religious person, but I’m starting to think there is a God.”
“Yes,” Matteo sighed, his gaze on Vincent’s cock as he tucked the panties under Vincent’s testicles. “And I’m on my knees before him.”
“You can do whatever you want with that cock, Matteo, but it had better include your mouth and maybe your hands…and an epic orgasm. Or two, if you want to jerk yourself off.”
Matteo closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, Sir.”
I settled down to watch as Matteo got busy. The reverence with which he carried out his task was admirable and a joy to watch.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Vincent, who stood there like a vision, his skirt pulled up, arms akimbo, delicate fingers clutching the hem of his skirt, mouth open and eyes closed, head back, as Matteo attended to him.
The tableau they made was almost too much. In fact…
“I’m getting my phone. I need to record this,” I said, but I don’t think either of them heard me.
I went to scoop my phone out of my jacket pocket and returned to the living room. Vincent looked even more wanton, as Matteo held the base of Vincent’s erection in one hand and used his mouth on Vincent’s length in a frenzied, lust-driven assault. Vincent had let go of the skirt with his left hand and now braced it against Matteo’s shoulder. Matteo was jerking his own cock dry, although he took a moment to spit into his palm before returning to Vincent.
The sounds of harsh breaths, small grunts and long moans filled the otherwise-quiet space.
There was no point asking for their consent to video the proceedings, because that would pull them right out of it. I felt a little bad going ahead, but they honestly needed to see this after it was all over. I’d let them dictate what was done with the footage, whether it would be deleted or saved to our secure hard drive, where we had quite a scintillating collection of performances. I did try to make a habit of gaining consent beforehand, but this had taken us all by surprise.
“I’m coming… I’m coming,” Vincent said, then cried out as he clutched Matteo and stared at his own dick erupting over Matteo’s tongue as Matteo swallowed him down.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I breathed. The blue satin and white ruffles, the black stockings and shoes, the garters, Vincent’s androgynous beauty and Matteo’s blatant hunger, combined to make this one of the most arousing things I’d witnessed in a long time, even though I lived with these men on a daily, domestic basis.
While I watched and recorded, Matteo made a strangled sound around Vincent’s dick as his own cock erupted over his knuckles and white jizz streamed down his fist to his muscled forearm.
* * * *
Later, upstairs, after Matteo and I took turns sucking him to fullness again, Vincent fucked me while wearing the baby blue maid’s outfit, and Matteo lifted his skirt and entered him from behind, pounding him so hard it was as if Matteo were fucking me with Vincent’s dick. I think I had about three or four orgasms before Vincent came and Matteo soon after. We ended up a sweaty, satisfied mess.
“I’m going to have to thank Daphne for ordering you that outfit,” I said, when I could speak again. Vincent lay face down on the bed, completely spent and satisfied, not moving or opening his eyes. But he smiled as I moved a stray bit of hair off his sweaty forehead and snuggled into the pillow. Matteo cleaned up and joined us and we drifted off, full of tea and tiny sandwiches and a communal sense of achievement.
Chapter Five
Matteo was in a good mood.
He’d completed a couple of long-standing projects at work and was plating his famous sole with white wine sauce while joking with Vincent. Because he was, in general, a serious fellow, when Matteo felt jaunty and relaxed, it was noticeable. It didn’t happen that often, but when it did, his lightened mood spread betwixt the rest of us.
