Pinewood Builders

John picked us up twenty minutes later and drove us to a small café not far from the site. The place was bustling with tradesmen getting their pre-work fix, the smell of bacon and coffee was strong.

John slid into the booth opposite us, looking suspiciously chipper. "You two look rough," he smirked, eyeing our tired faces. "Hard night?"

Wells snorted into his orange juice. "You could say that."

"Anything interesting happen?" John asked innocently enough. but his eyes gleamed.

I felt my face redden as I studied the menu, "Not really. Just a few beers, that's all."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't push further. The waitress arrived to take our order, saving me from having to respond. We all ordered the full English, and soon our table was laden with plates piled high with eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, and toast.

As we ate, the conversation flowed easily between us. It struck me how comfortable I felt with them both, despite everything we'd done and only knowing them just over two weeks.

After we finished breakfast we loaded up into the van and headed to work.

I noticed throughout the day- every time I bent over I could feel an echo of Wells' cock from last night and wondered if his arse felt the same.

By mid-morning, I found myself alone with Wells behind the half-built garage, both of us taking a breather after unloading a delivery of timber.

"How's your day going?" I asked.

He took a swig from his water bottle before answering. "Pretty good, considering I can still feel your dick inside me every time I move. "

I shook my head chuckling quietly, "Same. I wonder if anyone else has noticed us walking funny."

"Nah, we're subtle." he replied, "It's a weird feeling though, right? Not bad-weird. But, it's like my body wants to remind me what happened."

Before I could respond, John rounded the corner, catching us in our private moment. "Shame, I was hoping to catch you buried inside each other," he teased, his tone light, "Plumber Pete needs help moving the bath upstairs."

After work, John gave me a ride home like he usually did. I was in the mood for a chilled evening in. With Friday night looming, I anticipated a night out with everyone, likely involving a lot of drinking. So, I wanted an early night.

...

Work the next day seemed to crawl by, and as anticipated, around noon, everyone began discussing plans for the evening, deciding to meet at the pub at 8.

Wells, John and I met at around seven thirty at the pub and claimed our favourite corner, slightly secluded with it's own pool table and dart board.

Wells with a dart in hand, said "You lot better watch out," he twirled the dart with a grin, "I'm on fire tonight." He tossed a practice shot at the dart board, the dart landing with a hefty thud near the centre he winked at us and gave a mock bow. "I'll be taking bets if anyone dares," he taunted. "Might want to start planning your excuses for losing." He snatched up another dart, taking aim as John sank into a chair.

Just as Pete, Dave and Eric joined us. Eric precariously balancing a tray of beers between his hands.

Despite the physical difference, you could tell Eric was Dave's son. Dave, sporting that classic tradesman's physique, muscle layered with a healthy padding of beer, lumbered over to a barstool and dropped his weight onto it with confidence. "You lot couldn't hit the side of a bus with those darts," he scoffed.

Before anyone could answer, there was an immediate loud crack, as the barstool gave way beneath him. Dave went down like a felled tree, colliding with Eric on the way. Eric let out a high pitched yelp, as he wobbled with the tray of drinks. By some miracle of physics-or pure fear, not a drop was spilled as Eric recovered from being knocked with a graceless spin. Pete quickly snatched his beer from the tray, for good measure.

All around us the tables closest fell silent. Then we all lost it. I was practically crying, clutching my sides as Dave lay sprawled on the floor like a beached whale.

"Karma's a quick bastard tonight," Dave grumbled, hauling himself up with as much dignity as he could. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, ya bunch of wankers."

"Christ, Dave, next time go easy on the stools." joked Wells, earning himself a slap.

John wiped his eyes, still chuckling. "Eric deserves a medal for that save. I don't think I've ever heard a noise like that come from a grown man though."

Eric carefully set down the tray, his face the colour of a fire engine. "Fuck off, I saved all our drinks!"

With Dave back on his feet, we resumed our game. Eric, determined to prove himself, stepped up to the dartboard. His first dart bounced off the board and landed straight in John's beer, splashing it everywhere.

John, shook his head. "Nice aim, kiddo. But we're supposed to be hitting the board."

Pool games and more rounds of drinks followed. Mark and some of the other arrived and the conversation flowed easily, peppered with good-natured ribbing and work anecdotes. After a while, I excused myself to use the gents'.

The bathroom was small, with just two urinals and a stall. As I positioned myself at one of the urinals, I heard the door open behind me. Eric, stepped up to the urinal next to mine.

I heard the sound of his zipper followed by a gentle sigh of relief as he started to piss before making small talk.

I answered and despite my best efforts to keep my eyes forward, I couldn't help but glance over. What I saw made my jaw drop. Eric, small as he was, was packing some serious equipment. His cock was thick and long, hanging heavily as he relived himself. It seemed almost comically large compared to his slight frame.

I quickly averted my gaze, but the image was burned into my mind.

As the night wore on, the pub's air was thick with laughter and the scent of beer. Wells, still riding high on his earlier dart victory, had launched into an animated retelling of his latest worksite mishap, complete with exaggerated gestures and voices.

Dave and Eric were cracking up, tears streaming down their faces as Wells described his ill-fated attempt to impress Mark with his brick laying skills. Even Mark was chuckling, shaking his head as he confirmed how terrible it was.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, the mood shifted subtly. Pete glanced at his watch and drained the last of his pint. "Well lads, missus expects me home before midnight. Says I'm a right monster to wake up in the morning if I stay out too late."

"Lightweight," Dave teased, though he too was gathering his jacket. "Eric, you coming?"

Eric rolled his eyes but followed his dad's lead. "Later, guys. Thanks for the games, even if some of you cheat like bastards," he said, eyeing Wells with mock suspicion.

Mark was next, mumbling something about an early start.

One by one, they made their excuses and filtered out into the night, until only Wells, John, and I remained at our corner table.

John leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So... you two fancy coming back to mine? Unless," he paused, his lips curving into a sly smile, "you're exclusive now? Wouldn't want to intrude on a budding romance."

Wells snorted into his beer. "Hardly. We're just..." he glanced at me, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Having fun," I finished, feeling heat rise to my face that had nothing to do with the beer.

John's laugh was low and knowing. "Well then, my door's open if you're interested in exploring a bit more tonight."

The three of us exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between us. Wells drained his glass. "I'm in if you are," he said to me, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

"Let's go," I agreed, my pulse quickening.

Outside, John pulled out his phone and sorted an Uber. "Two minutes," he said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. I swayed slightly causing him to laugh and hold me still.

When the car arrived, I slid in first, followed by John and finally Wells. The three of us pressed together in the back seat. As the driver pulled away from the curb, John's hand dropped casually to my lap.

In the dark he began to palm against my jeans, the heat of his hand seeping through the denim. Beside him, Wells inhaled sharply, and I knew John was giving him the same treatment. John's fingers traced the outline of my hardening cock, his movements subtle enough to go unnoticed by the driver.

"Comfortable?" John murmured, his voice barely audible over the radio playing.

Wells leaned his head back against the seat, his eyes half-closed. "Very," he whispered, shifting slightly to give John better access.

The journey to John's place took only five minutes, but felt much longer. By the time we pulled up to John's modest terraced house, I was painfully hard and desperate for more direct contact.

The moment the front door closed behind us, he spun around, grabbed Wells by the collar and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Wells responded immediately, his hands flying to John's hips. I stood watching, mesmerized by their intensity until John broke away and turned to me and then his mouth was on mine, his tongue insistent as it pushed past my lips. His kiss was different from Wells'-more commanding and rougher.

As we kissed, I felt Wells press against my back, his hands sliding around to unbutton my shirt. John pulled away just enough to murmur, "Shoes off, boys. I don't want dirt through the house house."

We both hastily toed off our trainers, leaving them in a jumbled pile by the door. John did the same before leading us up the stairs.

"Here's the bedroom," he said, pushing open a door to reveal a large bed with white sheets. The room was surprisingly tidy for a bachelor, with minimal furnishings and a large window overlooking a small garden.

John turned to face us, "Seeing as it's my house... I think it's only fair that you two work together to show me what those mouths can do."

Wells glanced at me, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I think we can manage that," he said, already moving toward John, I copied. Wells reached for John's belt while I ran my hands up under his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of his hairy chest. John tilted his head back slightly, clearly enjoying being between us.

"That's it," he encouraged as Wells dropped to his knees, deftly unfastening John's jeans. I joined Wells on the floor, helping him tug John's jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion.

John's cock sprang free, thick and already fully hard. It was longer and thinker than both mine and Wells.

"Don't be shy," John said, his hand coming to rest on my head as he stepped out of his jeans. "Show me what you've learnt."

I leaned forward first, running my tongue along the underside of John's shaft while Wells cupped his heavy balls in one hand. The taste of him was musky and masculine, sending a jolt of arousal through me.

"Fuck," John hissed, his fingers tightening in my hair.

Wells moved lower, taking one of John's balls into his mouth with a gentle suction that made his cock twitch against my cheek. I worked my way up to the head, circling my tongue around the sensitive ridge before taking the tip into my mouth.

"That's it," John groaned, his free hand coming to rest on Wells' shoulder. "Christ, you two look good down there."

I glanced up to see him watching us with heavy-lidded eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I slid my lips down John's shaft, taking him as deep as I could while Wells worked below.

When I came up for air, Wells was there, his mouth meeting mine with John's cock between us. Our tongues danced around his shaft, occasionally brushing against each other in a kiss that made John moan above us. The sensation was incredible-the hard heat of John's uncut cock pressed between our mouths, the softness of Wells' lips against mine.

"Fuck, that's hot," John gasped, watching us make out around his cock. "Keep doing that."

We obliged, our lips meeting in sloppy kisses with John's shaft at the centre. Sometimes Wells would take the head into his mouth while I licked and kissed down the shaft; other times we'd switch, working in perfect tandem as if we'd done this together a hundred times before.

John's breathing grew ragged, his hips starting to thrust forward slightly. "If you keep that up," he warned, "this is going to end sooner than I'd like."

Wells pulled back, a string of saliva connecting his lower lip to John's glistening cock. "Can't have that," he said, his voice husky with desire. "We're just getting started."

John nodded, "On the bed, both of you. Clothes off."

We scrambled to obey, shedding our remaining clothes in record time and climbing onto the mattress. John watched us, stroking himself lazily as he enjoyed the view.

"Now," he said, joining us on the bed, "Who's fucking me first?"

Wells and I exchanged a stunned look. Neither of us had expected it to jump straight to that. The older man's eyes were dark with lust as he stretched out on the bed between us, his cock standing proudly against his stomach.

"Well?" John prompted, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're suddenly shy."

Wells recovered first, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Me" he said, his voice husky. "If that's alright with you?"

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. "Be my guest."

John reached for his bedside drawer and passed some lube to him, "Don't use too much. I like to feel it."

Wells slicked his fingers with lube, his movements deliberate as John lifted his knees. I moved to kneel in front of him, my cock level with his face. Without prompting, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth, his technique immediately evident, not like mine Wells' fumbling attempts.

Behind him, Wells pushed two fingers into John's arse, his expression focused as his long fingers disappearing into John's hairy body with surprising ease. John hummed around my cock, the vibration sending shivers up my spine.

"He's ready," Wells announced after a few moments, withdrawing his fingers. "He's not as tight as you were."

John released me with a wet pop. "Not my first rodeo, lad," he said with a wink. "Now get that cock in me before I change my mind."

Wells positioned himself between John's legs, guiding his cock to hairy hole. I watched, mesmerized, as he pushed forward slowly, his thick shaft disappearing inch by inch into John's body. John's face contorted briefly, his breath catching before relaxing into a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that's good," John murmured, I squatted over his face as he reached up to pull me back toward his mouth.

As John took me back between his lips, Wells began to move, establishing a steady rhythm that rocked the bed slightly. Wells' muscular body flexed with each thrust, "Christ, this-," he gasped, his hands gripping John's thighs. "-feels amazing."

I reached down to take John's cock in my hand, stroking him firmly as he released my shaft from his mouth. His attention shifted lower, his tongue darting out to lick at my balls. The sensation sent a jolt through my body, my grip on his cock tightening, precum leaking onto my fingers.

John took one of my balls into his mouth, sucking gently. His stubble grazed against my sensitive skin. Then without warning, his hands gripped my thighs, pulling me forward and tilting my hips. His tongue ventured further back, tracing a wet path from my balls to my hole. The unexpected sensation made me jerk in surprise.

"Oh god," I choked out, my eyes flying wide open. John's tongue circled my entrance, teasing the sensitive nerves there.

Wells watched us, his pace slowing as he took in the scene. "Fuck yeah," he encouraged, his words slurring as he mumbled, "Yeah. Eat him out."

John's hands urged me to shift position, guiding me until I was properly sitting on his face, my thighs on either side of his head. His tongue pressed more insistently against my hole, breaching the tight ring of muscle. The invasion shocking, but the pleasure was undeniable and grew as John's tongue pushed deeper an deeper.

"How does it feel?" Wells asked.

"It's-fuck-" I could barely form words as John's tongue probed my body, "It's incredible." I rocked against his face, torn between mild embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure.

John's thick cock, glistening with precum, was impossible to resist and without really thinking, I lifted myself off his face, my body moving on instinct as Wells continued thrusting into him, I grabbed Wells' shoulders for balance. "What are you--ooh" Wells began, but his words died as he watched me position myself over John's swollen cock.

John's hands found my hips, steadying me as I lowered myself onto him. The initial pressure was intense, making me gasp as the blunt head breached my entrance. Wells kissed me as I sank down inch by agonising inch, feeling my body stretch to accommodate his considerable girth.

"Jesus," I hissed, pausing halfway to catch my breath. Below me, John murmured, "Take your time," though I could feel his cock pulse inside me, eager for more.

I leaned forward, Wells strong arms holding me as our tongues intertwined, until finally, John filled me completely. The position was wickedly intimate-John's legs between Wells and me, both of us impaled on different ends of the older man.

When I began to move, my body resisted at first, the stretch almost too much, but then my muscles relaxed, and I found a rhythm that had me gasping. Wells kept his eyes locked with mine, his pupils blown wide with lust as he thrust into John below us.

John's hands guided my hips, helping me rise and fall on his shaft. "That's it," he encouraged, his voice strained. "Ride me, lad."

Wells and I continued kissing, our movements becoming more frantic as pleasure built within us. I reached between us to stroke myself, but Wells batted my hand away, replacing it with his own. His grip was firm and sure, matching the pace of my movements on John's cock.

"Fuck, I'm close," Wells groaned against my lips. "You two look so fucking hot."

John's hips bucked upward, driving deeper into me and changing the angle just enough to hit my prostate. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and I cried out, my body clenching around him.

"There it is," John said smugly, repeating the motion and hitting that spot again and again. "Found your sweet spot, didn't I?"

Wells' thrusts became erratic, his hand tightening around my cock. "I'm gonna-fuck-I'm gonna come," he warned, his other hand gripping my shoulder for support.

The sight of Wells losing control, combined with John's relentless assault on my prostate, pushed me over the edge. I came with a shout, my release painting Wells' chest and stomach in thick white ropes. My body clenched rhythmically around John's thickness, drawing a deep groan from him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Wells chanted, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into John. His face was beautiful in his abandon, a flush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck.

John was the last to finish, his hands gripping my hips with bruising force as he thrust up into me one final time, his cock pulsing deep inside. The sensation of being filled was strange but not unpleasant, a warm wetness spreading within me.

For a moment, none of us moved, caught in the aftershocks of our shared pleasure. Then Wells carefully withdrew from John and collapsed onto the bed beside us. I lifted myself off John's softening cock, wincing slightly at the emptiness and the trickle of wetness that followed.

"Christ almighty," John breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "That was something else."

I laid down on John's other side, feeling boneless.