Justin slid open the heavy metal door that marked the entrance to the loft and ushered True Sin in ahead of himself. When the Mormon boy abruptly stopped just past the doorsill, the blond almost knocked him over as he, too, tried to enter. He couldn't even shove the metal slab over and latch the door with his tush sticking out into the hallway.

He peered over the Sinner's shoulders, thinking it a rather nice change to be with a man shorter than himself. That didn't happen very often as Brian tended to trick with tall, brunet clones of himself. Justin didn't object since he was, after all, rather drawn to that body type - also usually choosing their takeout treats from Brian-clones. 

Mellow jazz filtered into the loft through the stereo speakers, and a bottle of Beam plus three shot glasses rested on the coffee table. One of Justin's eyebrows rose in astonishment that Brian had actually had the forethought to get out three glasses. The two of them often shared a drink - or guzzled directly from the bottle - and the brunet really didn't give a fuck about the social niceties when it came to tricks. Justin gauged that his partner must be more invested in the greenhorn's deflowering than he'd assumed. Maybe he even wanted to make the first time less painful for the neophyte fag? Nah. He probably just wanted to be the one to de-Mormon-ize the Sinner further by introducing him to alcohol. Justin was all over that notion; it probably wouldn't take more than a couple of swallows to release the boy's inhibitions. 

When Justin saw how his favorite stud had busied himself while waiting for them - other than by tossing back his favorite bourbon - he licked his lips. Brian was naked, reclining against the back of the couch with his legs spread-eagled in front of him, feet propped up against the coffee table, chin tilted upward slightly, eyes half lidded as he stroked up and down along his nine-and-a-half inches of perfection. Downward - one fine-boned hand stroked while the other hand fondled his balls. Upward - the hand returned, caressing the length of that perfectly-shaped cock while Brian's other hand kept playing with his sac. The brunet gave that deliciously-arousing twist to his fingers as his hand neared the head of his One-Eyed Jack, allowing just the tip to peek out from his fist for a moment.

Justin let out a sigh of contentment, resting his chin on Mormie Boy's shoulder. Even though he was frozen in place, the Sinner's balance seemed steady enough to the blond. Mhmm. Fine time for another lesson in the carnal arts. He reached around, unbuttoned and unzipped the boy's fly, shoved the slacks downward, and pushed the elastic waistband of the boring, standard, white briefs down so that the band rested just beneath the boy's balls. His own tighty-whities, of course, had never been boring, not with his bodacious bubble butt elevating them to a coveted art form. He imitated Brian's actions, mirroring his speed and motions, rutting against True Sin's crack through the white briefs while rolling his nuts in one hand and dragging his other hand along the boy's cock.

Truesen began grunting, so aroused that he was certain he'd come again any moment. He couldn't do more than moan, though, so lost in his own pleasure that he didn't even hear the older brunet's acerbic remark.

"Did you get lost on the way home, Sunshine?" Brian mocked, turning his head slightly to look directly at the two young men, "I thought you'd have learned to navigate the queerest street in this burgh by now. Did you have to resort to MapQuest?"

Justin let loose one of his maddeningly arousing giggles, "You're just craving my ass, Big Guy. You sooo need me. It's a sad state of affairs when you can't even wait fifteen minutes for me to get home." The blond batted his eyelashes, the laughter dancing in his eyes making Brian's dick even more rock hard, something that shouldn't have been possible.

"Fifteen minutes, Twat?" the brunet stud growled. "Have you forgotten how to tell time?" Brian gestured with the back of his head toward the clock on the kitchen wall. "I figured I'd fend for myself when hours had passed since I last saw you." He smugly added, "It's not as though I'll have any difficulty bouncing back for our second, third, and fourth rounds."

Justin was a trifle shocked that it had taken him and the Sinner a full hour to wend their way home, but he simply shrugged off the brunet's gross exaggeration of their untimeliness and giggled some more, which triggered both Brian and True Sin's dicks into eruptions of volcanic proportions. Brian's streamers of come decorated his chest, neck, and chin, a few drops even landing on the couch next to his head. The Mormon's creamy white missiles flew across the open space, one globule nearly reaching the countertop of the kitchen bar, another blob joining Brian's own come on the stud's chin, and yet more of that copious white lava decorating the coffee table and carpeting.

"Holy fuck!" Brian exclaimed in astonishment. "Who would have suspected that you'd possess such a missile launcher? You could set records, Mormie Boy!" It was almost enough to make the brunet stud forgive the Sinner for soiling Brian's Diesel jeans with his spunk at Woody's. He might even forgo having the Mormon Sperm Catapult pay his dry cleaning bill. It wasn't as if he were going to do the laundry himself, the stud mused. He'd just have his blond drop off the jeans with the rest of their dry cleaning and cut the Jizz Rocket a break.

"You know, Bri, when we reopen Babylon, we should launch a contest to see who can shoot their load the furthest. The Sinner here might even make it into the Guinness Book of World Records," Justin said, getting more and more excited as he envisioned a new event at his favorite club - forgetting in his zeal that the news about Babylon's reincarnation hadn't yet been been shared with more than a handful of people.

The ad exec almost rebuked the blond, but that WAS a good idea, and really, who the fuck was Sinful going to tell about Babylon? He didn't even know what Babylon was, for Chrissake. Brian decided he'd put Ted to running cost projections, and that he'd task Simon in Kinnetik's Art Department as well as Justin with mocking up some set designs for the competition. The synapses in his brain fired as he considered the most effective way to market the contest in conjunction with the grand reopening of his club. With a shrug, Brian then put Babylon and the Guinness Book on a mental back burner, preferring to observe his blond and their play toy for the nonce.

Justin removed his right hand, which had been encircling True's prick and raised it toward his mouth to lap up the residual cream. Brian, too, decided a snack was in order and dipped his index finger into the combined splatter on his chin. "Not bad," both men opined simultaneously, deeming the Sinner's come worthy of consumption.

Truesen was yet again immobilized, watching in horror-struck fascination as Brian lapped up some more of his own come, acting as if it were the tastiest of treats. Men did that? The Mormon unfroze and attempted to recoil when the blond offered him a taste of his own emulsion, holding his fingers up to the sable-haired young man's mouth. Truesen wasn't successful in evading those fingers, though, since Justin was standing directly behind him. He involuntarily stuck his tongue out as the slender digits brushed against his lips.

He relaxed a bit when all he tasted was a mishmash of something salty, sour, and fishy. "Y- you think this is a delicacy?" he choked out, confused that the two men looked like they were lapping up the ambrosia of the gods as they imbibed that whitish gunk. 

"Forget afternoon tea, boyo. Jism is better than any clotted cream you'll ever taste, my nut butter in particular," Brian boasted.

Justin let loose with yet another of his arousing giggles. "My hot vanilla rivals the Big Guy's, True Sin. If you're lucky, you'll get a chance to taste both of us before the night is over."  

Still standing behind their trick, he soothingly ran his hands up and down the new sinner's bare arms. "C'mon, True," he huskily rasped out as he nudged the Mormon onward, "we're overdressed for this party."

The about-to-be-ex Mormon didn't reply, his attention riveted on Brian, who had resumed stroking his dick, which was already stirring. Justin chuckled wryly since he could certainly comprehend that fixation. If he hadn't been confident in Brian as his partner, he might have been a bit irritated or perhaps even a little jealous, but he knew he had nothing to worry about. They played well with others, but they were committed to each other. The two studs actually talked and resolved problems these days, although Brian would probably rather slit his wrists than admit that to anyone.

When True gingerly moved forward a couple steps, Justin was finally able to turn around to slide shut and lock the door to the loft. Then, he used True Sin's necktie to tow his companion toward the coffee table, where he paused to pour healthy measures of Beam into all three shot glasses. After giving one shot to Brian and taking another for himself, he handed the last glass to his fledgling fag. "Here, True. Bottoms up!" Another cascade of giggles followed that pronouncement as Justin happily envisioned the final stage of his Sinner's initiation.

When the amateur fag shrank away from the proffered glass, Justin declared, "If it's not a sin to be queer, it's sure as fuck not a sin to drink whiskey, True Sin. So swallow it down like a man!"

Truesen stretched out a wildly trembling hand and took the glass from Justin. When his tutor in the gay arts knocked back his glass in one go, the Mormon imitated him and did the same, spluttering and coughing as he swallowed, but still managing to keep most of the liquid down.

"Good," praised the blond, "you can have another shot later if you need it. Don't want to knock you out, though, not when the ‘take my virginity party' is just beginning."

Truesen burped loudly, seemingly in response to the comment about losing his virginity, before blanching at his social faux pas. He tried to cover his mouth, but he missed his lips, entangling his fingers in his hair as he let rip with another mighty belch.

"Whoa, Boy!" Brian chuckled at the Mormon's predicament. "I think you'd better limit him to midget-sized servings for a while, Sunshine, at least until he builds his tolerance. He'll wanna get that belching under control before the jism distance challenge. Even with his prodigious projectile talents, he isn't going to endear himself to his fellow faggots if he can't stop eructing."

While Brian was speaking, Truesen burped again, lurched to the side, hiccupped, and ended up bracing himself against Justin, who tilted the Sinner's chin toward himself so that he could look into the boy's dilated pupils. Well, it looked like the man was relaxed at last - maybe too much. Who would have thought one shot of Beam, generous serving aside, could do that to anyone within such a short time span? It was definitely time to move on to the next stage of relieving the man of his virginity, hopefully without the event turning into a total farce.

"Boy," the blond demanded, "strip off the rest of your clothes."

"Wha I'm sposted do?" Truesen slurred, flailing about with his arms.

"Tell you what, True, let's put on a show for the Big Guy. We'll help each other strip," Justin joshed, "making Brian all hot and bothered and ready to be the creamy stud filling in our twink sandwich."

The blond ignored the scoffing sounds from the brunet. He was just trying to ease any lingering fears, so that they could finally get on with the Sinner's initiation. He hadn't gotten around to explaining that Brian was the Toppy-est Stud in Pittsburgh - except when he bottomed for Justin - a factoid which Mormie Boy would not be made privy to. The thought of Bottom!Brian caused the blond boy to dissolve into another freshet of happy giggles, and predictably, drove the two dark-haired men nearly mad with lust.

"Mmm, Jushin, susha pwetty penish," Truesen mumbled.

The giggling blond devil laughed harder at that since the man hadn't seen his cock yet. He wielded one of the two finest wang doodles in the city, but True Sin could hardly judge that yet, even if he were sober enough to do so. Justin repositioned the boy so that they were facing each other on the opposite side of the coffee table from Brian, presenting a side view to their audience. Justin then reached out, grabbed the nervous Mormie's clammy hands, and placed them on his fly. "That's it," he coaxed, "undo the button and unzip my fly. Careful, now, I went commando under my cargo pants."

Truesen really didn't get what ‘commando' meant in relation to unzipping the blond's pants, but - even in his inebriated state - he took heed of the young man's tone and proceeded slowly. It wasn't as if he could do anything else with his hands jittering so badly that he could barely slip the button through the buttonhole and then inch the metallic row of teeth downward, millimeter by millimeter.

Once the timid, tipsy boy had finally succeeded in lowering his zipper, Justin clasped the Mormie's hands with his, raised them to the waistband of his cargos, and assisted True Sin in pushing them down his thighs, until they dropped down to his ankles. Justin quickly toed off his sneakers before shucking his pants completely.

"Easy, Boy," Justin soothed his skittish striptease counterpart as he unfastened True Sin's belt and slipped it free of the buckle. Accurately estimating that the longer he took, the more sober and apprehensive the sable-haired man would become, Justin rapidly divested him of his pants, shoes, and socks. 

Truesen's arms had been crossed over his chest, clutching his sides in white-knuckled fists, but the moment his ‘private parts' - as he primly referred to them in his mind - were exposed, he immediately lowered his hands to cover his groin.

Brian guffawed, "Fuck, Mormie Boy. You've got nothin' Justin and I haven't seen before. Take your hands away from your dick. Now!" the annoyed stud commanded gruffly. As far as Brian was concerned, this was taking far too long. He definitely didn't remember matters proceeding so slowly with a certain once-upon-a-time blond virgin.

In response to Brian's snark, Justin placed his palms on the sides of the rather inebriated but still distressed man's face and sternly said, "Focus on me and ignore the Big Guy. He's just being cranky - always gets that way when I haven't provided his daily quota of blow jobs, rim jobs, and general fuckery." The blond heaved a mighty sigh when True Sin seemed to ignore him instead of Brian. "Look, Sinful, I know what it's like to see the Face of God. Been there, done that, again and again. But tell me, would you rather have the Almighty Kinney teach you all about gay sex or would you, perhaps, prefer the Archangel Taylor?"

The blasphemy toward his deity made Truesen goggle at his angelic savior and sober up quickly. He'd heard every word the babbling blond had uttered. He wanted to protest that he hadn't so much been venerating God Kinney; it was more that he'd been half woozy from the whiskey and half petrified by the man's arrogant demeanor, but he couldn't form the words to tell Justin that. Didn't the blond know he was just as gorgeous and desirable as his brunet friend? the Mormon speculated. Were the... the other gays in this burgh so shortsighted that they only went after Kinney? Or was it just that they always worshipped the deity first? Obviously the Face of God, in spite of all his snarking and snarling, valued his archangel or he wouldn't be with him. The connection between the two men was electric; their glances, their touches, and their words almost set the air aflame. It was more than sexual foreplay, although Truesen hadn't yet figured out just what that something more was.

The ebon-haired, born-again gay really hoped to get to know the angel better, even if he had to brave God's wrath to do so. "Hosanna!" Truesen shouted, almost sagging in relief that he was able to think of himself as ‘gay.' "Hosanna!" he proclaimed again, beginning to revel in his freedom. Squaring his shoulders, he decided he would both know and accept himself. In fact, he was adopting ‘know thyself' as his new mantra. And even if he was still in the dark about what was going to happen, he was ready for his angel to ‘know' him in the biblical sense.

Truesen bravely held the blond's gaze and stuttered, "Y- you. I choose you, Justin." He might have been overwhelmed on Liberty Avenue and at Woody's, but observing the behavior of his fellow fags, Truesen garnered enough information to know that the blond stud had been remarkably patient with him. Bashfully, unable to look the blond in the eyes, he murmured, "I want the angel, not the god." He enunciated as carefully as he could, wanting it to be clear that he was making a rational decision to have sex with the blond - well, probably with both men, but he wasn't ready to think about that quite yet.

Truesen had intuited from their actions that neither man would force him to have sex with them, so it was more than a matter of simply choosing between Justin and Brian. He'd accepted that he desired the young man, and regardless, he'd rather learn from the beautiful angel, who was without question more personable and approachable than the brunet god. Truesen told himself to ask the bodacious blond later on what relationship he had with Brian. They obviously engaged frequently in sexual relations, but that didn't help the Mormon figure out what nomenclature to use in describing them. Before today, all he'd known about gay men was that that they couldn't be saved unless they repented and forsook their sinful ways, and that one man couldn't legally marry another. Surely he couldn't go wrong by calling the two heavenly beings friends?

The baffled, overwhelmed, still slightly tipsy virgin was rescued from his chaotic contemplations when the new archangel in his pantheon beamed a smile that outshone the sun, flung out his arms, and cried, "Hallelujah! Hosanna! You have seen the light! Welcome to the loft of true sin!"

Justin wrapped one hand around Sinful's dick and towed him toward the sofa. When they reached that plush piece of furniture, the blond released his captive cock, turned the boy around, and pushed so that True Sin sank down into the cushions next to Brian.

"You can think of us as your queer game show hosts," Justin cheekily advised. You're the new and improved, gay version of Ken Jennings." The bodacious blond reached out and stroked both men's moisture missiles in tandem while he explained to the rookie how he was going to proceed. "For your next lesson, I'll demonstrate one way you can tithe your in-‘come' to the Church of Brian and Justin. Watch closely; I'll quiz you on it later. Far better to worship and spend some of your earnings on us, instead of on a church which doesn't accept you for who you are."

The blond grabbed one of the large, plush throw pillows from the end of the sofa, placed it on the ground between Brian's feet, and then knelt down in front of him. Brian obligingly slid downward so that his ass rested against the edge of the divan. When Justin pushed the brunet's legs apart, the fine auburn hairs on Brian's left leg grazed against the sable hairs on True Sin's right leg, causing the overstimulated and confounded young man to levitate at least six inches into the air.

"Well, you don't juggle or do handstands, boyo, but you certainly do other tricks," Brian drawled.

When Brian smiled at his blond boy, clearly remembering their first night together, Justin couldn't keep a delighted giggle from escaping. The brunet grinned more broadly at having elicited the desired reaction. That giggle of Justin's was just so damned irresistible, and Brian had determined that he would never go another day without hearing it.

"Pay attention, True," Justin commanded as his eyes glazed over and he licked his lips, "and you'll get an introduction to the fine art of cocksucking. The most important thing is to cover your teeth. Word'll get around if you chow down on a guy's cock and balls."

Noticing the frown furrowing his protégé's forehead, Justin soothed him with, "Don't worry. If you take to swallowing dick like you did to launching projectiles, you'll see plenty of action."

Brian interjected, "Stop frowning, Sinner, or your wrinkles will spread. All that worrying about being a good little Mormon has probably already caused irreversible damage. And I sure as shit am not sharing my anti-aging cream with yet another twink." 

Justin shook his head at his lover's theatrics. Of course he used the bloody cream. With Brian carping every morning about an imaginary wrinkle, gray hair, or - god forbid - a zit, which, conversely, he could have welcomed as a sign of youth - and then scrutinizing Justin's face for blemishes, what choice did he have? Unable to wait any longer, he leaned forward and buried his nose in Brian's balls. He inhaled deeply, humming in bliss as he breathed in his favorite musky, tangy scent. "Sooo good, Bri," he murmured as he swirled his tongue over and around the brunet's sac.

"Fuck, yessss," hissed the brunet when Justin sucked his scrotum into his mouth, hummed, and swallowed. The blond wrapped one hand around the base of Brian's dick and began to stroke upward along the shaft while massaging Brian's perineum with two fingers of his other hand and tugging gently on his ball sac with his mouth.

"Holy fuck!" Brian shouted. "Are you trying to make me erupt like Mount Vesuvius?" The famous lothario of Liberty Ave tried to rein in his impulse to shoot his load then and there. Goddammit! He was not a horny teenager, and he would not embarrass himself in front of the new recruit. But he needed his blond boy to cooperate if he were to regain a modicum of control. Blissed out almost beyond endurance, the brunet begged, "Ease up, Twat; I promise you'll get your serving of creamy, high-protein lava." Brian refused to say ‘award,' their code for word for ‘slow,' derived from rhyming slang, which would indicate he was about to blow any second. When they were around tricks, one of the two studs talking about giving an ‘award' to the other for outstanding sexual performance wasn't all that unusual. After all, as everyone knew, they were the two best fuckers in the burgh.

If the blond brat didn't slow down, though, Brian was going to start screaming about ‘awards' at any moment... Thankfully, Justin took pity on his man, released Brian's balls with an audible pop, and then laved a broad stripe along the underside of his cock, his tongue following the path made by the palm of his hand. Humming as he reached the corona, he stabbed with his tongue at the frenulum and then swiped the tip of his tongue along the underside of the crown. Simultaneously, he brushed the pad of his thumb along the piss slit and massaged the perineum some more.

"Ahhh! Jesus fuckin' Christ! Ahhh! Was I not clear?" he panted. "I'm not ready to come yet!" The gush of pre-come that oozed out of Brian's slit belied his statement, but he could hardly admit the truth - that he didn't want to come yet, that he wasn't in control - in front of True Sin.

The smug satisfaction radiating from his partner's deep blue eyes as he licked every drop of pre-come off of his thumb didn't help matters. Brian was sure he was going to blow any second. Justin, once his pupil, had long since equaled, if not excelled, Brian's oral skills.

Justin rolled the sides of his tongue inward to form a tube and stabbed at Brian's slit a couple more times before removing his tongue and his fingers from Brian's perineum, only loosely holding Brian's cock in his other hand. The stud frowned in consternation. Was that really what he'd wanted? Since when did the bold blond listen to him anyhow? Brian was going to have to rethink that ‘ask and ye shall receive' adage.

The blond fellatio artist grinned widely at True Sin, who was clutching his thighs in his hands as his virulently purplish-red dick strained toward the ceiling, the vein on the underside pulsating violently. Justin snickered, "I don't think our Sinner is faring any better than you, Big Guy, and I haven't even touched him yet. Tsk. Tsk. I thought you'd provide an example of how to control oneself," the blond brat insincerely insinuated, "but I guess that was too much to hope for."

Brian reached forward as if he were going to grab Justin's face and shove his dick down the blond's throat but collapsed back into the couch cushions instead. Nope, couldn't let the bratty blond win. What was it he needed to do? Come? His dick twitched in concordance with that idea, but no, that wasn't the plan. Oh, right. Control. He was in control of the situation. He could hear the blond's laughter even though the boy didn't make a sound. The overstimulated stud sank his teeth into his bottom lip, staving off his imminent orgasm and limiting himself to another copious surge of pre-come.

With teasing laughter dancing in his eyes, Justin lazily stroked his hand slowly up and then back down Brian's cock. Up... and... down.

Fuck! thought the stud, straining not to push his dick upward into the blond's hand.

"Huh, huh, huh," True Sin panted, eyes riveted on the tip of Brian's cock as it emerged out of the top of Justin's fist and then disappeared, again and again.

Fuck! What a high! Justin wouldn't mind doing this all night long. He had both men in the palm of his hand. Smiling salaciously, he leaned forward and licked around the head of Brian's cock. He continued the leisurely pumping action with his hand, swiping his thumb across Brian's slit while laving the rest of the corona with his tongue. In his other hand, he cupped Brian's balls, rolling them around with his fingers, gently tugging on them to arouse Brian further. Lick. Swipe. Pump. Tug.

"Mmph!" garbled the stud, finally giving in and begging, "Now, for fuck's sake! Please!"

"Your wish is my command, Stud," Justin averred. In one smooth downward motion, the blond deepthroated all nine-and-a-half inches of man meat, burrowing his nose into Brian's pubes. He hummed and swallowed, fondling Brian's nuts with one hand, before pulling back until only the tip of Brian's dick was in his mouth. As his mouth descended anew onto Brian's cock, he reached out with the hand that was no longer fisting Brian's dick and ran the tip of his index finger around the edge of Brian's pucker.

That was it. The brunet couldn't hold out any longer. He grabbed fistfuls of flaxen hair and thrust upward into that warm-slick-tight passage, screaming, "Fuuck!" as he released rivers of come into that welcoming throat, then sagged back into the cushions.

Justin released Brian's now semi-erect cock, bestowed a soft kiss on the tip, and then halfway stood up in an effort to press his lips to his partner's. Brian assisted in that endeavor, clasping one of the boy's plumps ass cheeks in each hand and pulling upward until the blond was straddling his lap. There was no tantalizingly tangy treat to share since the protein drink had shot straight down Justin's gullet and into his stomach, but that didn't matter to either Brian or Justin. The two men locked lips constantly, aroused or not, sometimes for no discernible reason whatsoever. Touching, particularly kissing, was their way of reassuring one another that they were together, that neither one of them was leaving for another city, another man, or another job.

Brian caressed Justin's face, smiling fondly at the blond when they surfaced from the kiss to gulp in some much-needed air. A low, susurrating noise as their Sinner collapsed back into the cushions reminded both men of his presence.

Justin's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline as he took in the boy's sated condition. True Sin had apparently come untouched, decorating his chest, neck, and chin with another sizable load of come. How the heck was he producing so much so quickly? the two studs wondered in amazement.

"Ouch!" exclaimed the blond, looking at the ten, dark, crescent-shaped bruises on the Sinner's thighs. 

Brian chortled, "You're definitely a fag, boy. You're going to be sporting quite the rainbow of colors tomorrow. You should have told us that you're into pain," he joshed; "we could have directed you toward Boy Toy and Meathook instead of inviting you to our loft." The brunet assumed a contemplative mien, resting his chin in his right hand and running his thumb across his lips, "Weren't you looking for the bears in those clubs when I picked you up outside Babylon, Blondie?"

When True Sin opened his mouth, Justin anticipated that he was about to hear a flurry of questions about boy toys, meathooks, and bears, so he forestalled the Sinner by leaning over and licking his way from the boy's stomach up to his chin. Sin's cock apparently took that as a signal to return to life, twitching and then gradually expanding until it once again jutted out from his groin.

"Hmm, does that mean you'd like to receive your first blowjob?" Justin kidded, resting his chin on the novice fag's chest and admiring the one-eyed serpent peering back at him. "Not bad, boy;" he approved, "looks like you possess more than seven inches."

Brian snorted, "Thought it was nine-and-a-half inches keeping that sunshiny smile on your face."

The blond admonished his lover with a frown, "Most of us haven't been blessed with as many inches as you, Stud."

"Sinner, you might as well know that we fags are size queens - top, bottom, or versatile - we all want a big cock to play with," Brian explained. "Look at Sunshine. His dick may be an inch shy of mine in length, but he compensates in circumference, and that bulbous head makes every prostate jump for joy." The brunet wanted to smack himself in the face the moment those telltale words escaped his lips. 

"That's what I've observed, anyhow," he hastily amended, studiously ignoring the smirking, giggling blond. With his cock sitting up and taking notice, he couldn't ignore his Sunshine for long, however. That damned giggle! It ought to be illegal!

Justin lifted his head from the Sinner's torso, sat back up, and then leaned forward to nibble on the exact spot beneath Brian's earlobe that always drove the brunet insane with lust, whisper-giggling into his ear, "Not to worry, Stud. You should have told me earlier about that ‘itch' returning so soon. I'll take care of it once we're alone again..."

Fuck, yeah! If that itch hadn't been there before - less than twenty-four hours after it was last scratched - it certainly was pricking him now. Brian quickly glanced at the Sinner who, fortunately, wasn't paying any attention. True had slid down so that his ass was resting on the edge of the couch and was eying his gearshift in fascination.

"Looks like your next customer is waiting to be serviced," Brian tapped his blond on the shoulder and nodded toward the Sinner, who was clad only in the rather wrinkled necktie that dangled down toward his straining drumstick.

That earned another ear-splitting grin from Justin, who stood up and snatched the throw pillow from the floor, repositioning it in front of True Sin. "Relax, True. You sound like you just sprinted a mile to make it to church on time," Justin told the short-winded Sinful, who was huffing and puffing before Justin had so much as touched him. Trying to ease Sin's nerves, Justin stroked slowly downward with his hands from True's hips to his knees, nudging apart the boy's legs before genuflecting to perform his favorite act of worship. 

Justin kept up his gentle massaging of the Sinner's thigh with one hand while he encircled the boy's eager beaver with the other. "Before you exploded, did you pay attention to what I did with the Big Guy?" Justin asked.

Mesmerized by the up-and-down motion of the blond's hand along his cock, the lad didn't even register the question.

"Sin!" Justin flicked his thumbnail against the indentation at the base of his cockhead, causing the Sinner to hiss in pain-pleasure. "Did. You. Pay. Attention. When. I. Blew. Brian?" the blond reiterated slowly.

"Uh... I... your mouth... uh... maybe?" Truesen beseeched, his thoughts rendered completely incoherent by the movement of Justin's hand on his dick.

Justin snickered, "This is an essential skill you must master to pass Carnal Arts 101, oh disciple of mine.

"B- b- but," True Sin mustered his scattered wits enough to spit out, "I c- can't concentrate when you're doing that."

"You mean this?" Justin inquired mischievously, leaning forward and lapping at Sinful's cockhead with his tongue.

Truesen's eyes rolled back in his head and he nearly blacked out as his synapses fired off messages of overpowering pleasure toward his brain. "Gah!" was the only sound he managed - what could've been years later - when his vocal cords resumed partial operation. The two studs were going to think he was a Mormon moron, but Truesen didn't care, not as long as the blond kept doing that.

To True Sin's everlasting delight, Justin engulfed his cockhead in his mouth, swallowing around the sensitive tissue. Truesen grunted appreciatively, but alas, the blond released his luscious lollipop milliseconds later - or so it seemed to the woebegone neophyte. "Why'd ya schtop?" he slurred, feeling far more tipsy than he had after knocking back the tumbler of Beam.

The brunet seated next to the Sinner let out a hefty sigh. He damned well knew why the blond imp had stopped, but just like the ebon-maned boy, he wanted to implore Justin to continue. Fuck! What had happened to him? Sunshine, that's what. Even though he'd come no more than ten minutes ago, he was as horny as a fourteen-year-old, on the edge of erupting again.

His protesting wheeze caused the blond imp to glance at Brian, one eyebrow tauntingly cocked, before he turned back to the Sinner. "True, you can't be a real fag if you don't learn to suck dick. It's like I told the therapist my mom dragged me to see so I'd be cured - Justin made air quotes as he spat out the word ‘cured' - of being gay. ‘I like dick. I wanna get fucked by dick. I wanna suck dick. I like sucking dick.' True Sin, you gotta give in order to receive."

Brian privately thought Justin's body had absorbed every move he made when he gave the boy his first blowjob. He'd become a pro so fast, it made both of Brian's ‘heads' spin. As Justin had noted earlier to Sinful, the brunet did indeed become cranky if he didn't get his daily dose of Sunshine blowjobs - at least one, preferably two or three.

"Okay, I wanna learn," Truesen acknowledged. "But please, could ya teach me later an' jush blow me now?"

Since that accorded with what Justin really wanted to do in that moment, he beamed a saucy grin at the Sinner and immediately deepthroated his pupil. This time, Truesen's eyes almost popped out of his head. It was the most heavenly sensation he could have imagined. When Justin hummed around his cock, he swore he heard an angelic chorus singing.

No, no, no! Truesen's brain complained when the blond pulled back, releasing his dick with a loud popping noise.

Justin, who'd caught the barest whiff of True Sin's piquant pubic scent, wanted to inhale without the constriction of a cock in his throat. As an apology for halting the deepthroating so soon after introducing the boy to its heavenly delights, he licked and gently nipped his way down the Sinner's cock to his savory pubes, inhaling deeply when he finally arrived at his destination. Mhmm. His suspicion was proven correct; this was the most tantalizingly tangy bush he'd encountered - other than Brian's, of course. Could use a trimming, though. Maybe he should ask Auntie Em to provide grooming advice?

Since he was a champion at handjobs as well as blowjobs, Justin hadn't neglected the Sinner's cock while engaging in his olfactory ecstasies. His hand continued to travel up and down the boy's dick, eliciting oohs and aahs of delight.

Justin's nose trailed downward, and he inhaled even more deeply when he reached the Sinner's balls. Fuck! "You smell so good," he praised the other man.

What the fuck! groused the brunet to himself. His boy was only supposed to say that to him. Anyone else was just a trick, a throwaway. No upstart virgin had the right to usurp Brian's place in Justin's estimation. What the fuck could he do, though? He couldn't let the blond know that he was jealous, especially not in front of the virginal twerp. Brian wasn't sure why these unaccustomed - yeah, right - pangs of envy were making him harder than ever, but he'd figure that out later. First he had to get off, then the Sinner had to be thoroughly fucked until he was no longer so temptingly virginal, and finally he'd have to talk with his blond stud. That goddamned relationship crap! Necessary, though, since he was determined to keep his blond boy around. No more pushing off cliffs and no more running away. Justin belonged to him, as Brian would make very clear.

While Brian was lost in his relationship reverie, Justin was transporting the Mormon to fairyland. When the blond ray of sunshine laved the boy's nuts with his tongue and then took them into his mouth, Truesen was sure he'd died and gone to paradise. How could the Promised Land possibly be better than this? He shortly discovered that it could get even more heavenly. 

Justin inserted two fingers into his mouth and sucked on them along with Truesen's balls. Once they were thoroughly spit-slicked, he removed them from his mouth and let them trail down over the Sinner's perineum - pausing to massage lightly - until he reached the lad's tightly-furled pucker. Round and round those fingertips circled before Justin pressed his index finger inward, breaching that virginal asshole by, perhaps, a micrometer or two.

Paradise lost a bit of its luster for True Sin when Justin loosed his balls from his mouth. But he was quickly returned to the raptures of Zion as the blond inhaled his dick in one go, humming and swallowing, fondling his balls with one hand, and caressing his hole with the other. Sinful gasped for air, his back arching off the sofa and his legs rising until they were tightly cinched around Justin's back.

The frantically writhing Sinner was no longer aware of his surroundings or even, really, what was happening to him. He just wanted more. His questing hands found a blond mop of hair, and he latched onto it, tugging firmly.

Blast off! Truesen's load rocketed down Justin's throat while warm streamers of come splattered the blond's face from the side.

As he watched Justin concentrate on giving True Sin his first blowie - and set the suck standard for all future blow jobs - Brian had worked himself into an increasingly possessive snit. He pouted - yes, the stud was a masterful pouter - feeling more than a tad neglected. He'd show that blasted blond boy! He would come all over Justin's face and remind the blond that he already had a partner, one that the moronic Mormon couldn't possibly compete with. The brunet furiously stroked his hand up and down his pleasure stick, closely observing the annoying Sinner so that he could time his effusion to the boy's orgasm. A self-righteous smile adorned the brunet's face. He'd win this contest! Virginal come or not, the boy couldn't possibly compete with the Great God Kinney's high-quality ball juice. Now, now, now! the neurons fired their imperative message to his brain.  

Justin cradled the Sinner's spunk viper in his mouth until it had receded to its flaccid four inches. He then sat back on his heels and ostentatiously licked all around his lips before reaching out with his fingers to capture more of the creamy treat Brian had just bestowed on him. His eyes alight with laughter, the blond hummed, "Mmm, mmm, good," as he sucked his man's come off of his fingers. Possessive bastard! Didn't do jealous? Of course, Justin not so secretly loved that behavior, so he couldn't even feign anger toward the unrepentant stud.

Brian couldn't believe it when his cock twitched again in response to Justin's actions. It was true that he had recuperative superpowers, but this was ridiculous. He'd just come for the third time in less than an hour, for Chrissake!

The brunet stud rolled his head to the left to look at True Sin, who appeared to still be riding a euphoric high. His limbs were relaxed and he had a blissed-out smile on his face as he gazed in wonderment at his savior. "You are an angel, Justin. My archangel."

Well, fuck. Did the pretty, rosy-red blush staining Justin's cheeks at that honest flattery mean it would be more difficult than Brian had anticipated to wean the two boys off each other? That the stud's supreme spooge hadn't done the trick? 

Un-fucking-believable! Until that moment, he'd thought only the Mormon was infatuated. Fucking virgins! So much trouble! Although in his blond's case, not more trouble than he was worth, at least not any longer. Dammit, he was gonna have to act gracious or risk pissing off the blond.

"Did you enjoy your blowjob from the best cocksucker on the eastern seaboard, Mormie?" the stud half sneered. "'Cause you'll never get another one to match." At least Brian hoped the greenhorn gay wouldn't merit a repeat. The boy's crestfallen gaze told him his arrow had hit the target. He cursed to himself some more, however, when he remembered he wanted the missile launcher that was affixed to the boy for Babylon's restoration gala. Double fuck!

"Only on the east coast, Stud?" Justin chided. "You found better in Ibiza?"

Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck! All he needed at this point was a blond in high dudgeon withholding blowjobs.

Justin almost burst out laughing at the look of dismay on Brian's face. He just knew the Big Guy was worrying about his daily fellatio ration. As if Justin would deny himself that taste treat! That wouldn't stop him from tormenting the stud, though, especially since he was curious as to how Brian would try to placate him. What kind of ad campaign would he cook up in that fertile brain to finagle himself back into Justin's good graces?

Pretending disgruntlement, Justin leaned back against the coffee table, gesturing toward his distended, purplish-red cock. "While you've been busy coming... and coming... and coming, no one has provided any relief for the best cocksucker in the history of cocksuckers," the blond boasted.

Brian did a double-take at that. He was rather mortified to realize that Justin had exerted so much control, while he exhibited none himself. He discounted the trainee fag since, after all, virgins were notorious for shooting their loads at the least pretext.

Damned if he'd show his admiration, though. Might give both boys the wrong idea, and - even if Truesen would never achieve such mastery - it would be a pinnacle to which he could aspire. "If you can't take the time to wank off, that's your problem, Twat," Brian grunted dismissively.

"No problemo, Big Guy," Justin replied, twisting around to grab the Beam. "I'll just console myself with bourbon."

"Better pour a glass for the Sinner, too," Brian recommended; "he's gonna need some liquid courage for the main event."

Song for Chapter 3 

The Anthem of John Barrowman: I Am What I Am

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXrLbIacgiY