Carry On

Nasty Dog

   The months slowly crept by. One crisp Autumn day, while Gary slept, Simon and Johnny were fucking. Just straight gettin' it on. Doing the deed. Copulating. Fooling around. Things Cupcakke would sing about. For-

   I'm sorry.

   Anyways, Soap was fucking into his beloved partner while he was sobbing and whimpering from overstimulation. The look on the Scot's face would put a porn star to shame. It was straight up ungodly.

   "I need you, Simon...~" Johnny groaned. His partner's name sounded almost like a swear coming from his lips. "Fuck, m'close..."

   "T-Too much, Johnny...!" The Brit hiccupped while biting back a pathetic sob. His face was pink and sweat-drenched. Soap leaned forward and licked the sweat from his face.

   "Gonna squirt for me, Si?" He asked with a wicked grin. Simon responded with a long, high-pitched keen. His arse clenched around his partner's cock and he squirted. Soap's eyes lit up at the sight, and he pounded into him with renewed vigor. "Aah~! Augh~! J-Johnny...~!" Simon cried out.

   Johnny let out an "oooooh..." as he came. His hips slowed but didn't stop. After a moment, he slid out and immediately lapped up his spend from Simon's drenched, gaping hole.

   "Gah!" Cried Simon. "Too much! Too much!" He bit at his knuckle until it bled. When he looked down, Johnny lifted his head. His face was covered in his own cream.

   "Thanks fer the midnight snack, luv~" he cooed.