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"Forget That Girl"
Title: Forget That Girl
Rating: R, maybe NC-17
Pairing: Mike/OFC & Peter/OFC…or is it?
Warnings: Language, sexuality
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Monkees and make no claim that this ever really happened. It is purely the result of an overactive imagination.
Summary: Mike is forced to create a new rule regarding bringing women back to the Pad. Everything is fine until wires get crossed and Mike and Peter both bring their dates home. Awkwardness ensues…
Author’s Note: Now, this is a little different! This is a Torksmith but without any actual, uh, Torksmith! Hmm, maybe it would be better if you just read it instead of me trying to explain my weirdness. It’s a little unusual and it actually turned out to be really tricky to write, so I apologise if you get a little confused along the way, this is more of an experiment so I definitely appreciate any constructive criticism. Also, apologies for the long-ness...it’s my longest yet, I just can’t help myself!
It was a perfect Malibu day. The sun was shining bright, there was a pleasant breeze and there were dozens of gorgeous, scantily-clad girls running around outside the Pad. Davy and Micky were in heaven...
Or, at least, they would have been were they not being forced to stay inside to attend an apparently urgent Monkee meeting that Mike had called this morning. So instead of being outside, hooking up with anyone they could get their wandering hands on, they were standing by the staircase, Peter at their side with Mike still busying himself upstairs.
Davy had his arms crossed over his chest, not even trying to cover his impatience. Micky was just bouncing up and down on his feet, constantly casting quick glances to the beach making sure there was still life out there.
Peter on the other hand had his head down, shuffling his feet slightly. It reminded Davy of a little boy who was about to be reprimanded. He began to worry a little that Peter knew more than he’d let on, that Mike had bad news or something. But when Mike had hurriedly called the meeting, he didn’t seem upset or angry, he seemed...awkward. Like he didn’t really want to have the conversation.
Soon enough, he came careening down the steps, stopping in front of the three men.
“’Bout time! What the hell is this-?”
“Chicks.” Mike interrupted Micky, knowing that would get his and Davy’s attention. It did.
“Oh?” Davy asked, raising an eyebrow.
“...and bringing them back to the Pad.”
“What about it?” It didn’t take long for Davy to get on the defensive, the raised eyebrow now knitting with the other into a frown.
“We need a system. If someone plans on bringing a chick back here, then we need to make sure the place is...empty.”
“Ooookay... What the hell brought this on? Never been a problem before.” Micky piped up, finding the whole thing more than a little strange. Only Mike caught the way Peter seemed to shrink, almost as if he were trying to disappear into the wall behind him.
“Nothin’ brought it on. I was just thinking about it...well, not IT, the situation I mean. No, not the situation! Jesus Mick, why you gotta ask so many questions? More just the idea of how people might feel...”
“...if they heard one of us fucking a chick senseless?” Micky finished, helpfully. This time, even he couldn’t miss the way Peter appeared to twitch and shift uncomfortably. He’d have covered his face in horror were he not trying so hard to go unnoticed. “Sorry Pete.” Micky added, quietly, not meaning to embarrass the poor guy.
“Right.” Mike shook his head at the wonderful tact Micky always managed to display.
“But ‘ow we gonna know?” Davy suddenly chimed in. “Sometimes when I bring a girl back, it’s for a nice chat, maybe some drinks. How am I supposed to know she’ll jump me and we wind up screwing?”
“Hm, let’s see, because that’s what always happens to you, Davy! Mike, I think we need a separate Davy rule.” Micky said, sarcastically, poking Davy in the ribs.
“OK, look, come on guys, let’s be serious about this, huh?” Mike was clearly getting agitated, making the two of them settle down a bit. He cast a brief, sympathetic look at Peter but the blond didn’t see, he was too busy keeping up a staring contest with the floor.
“Davy, I know you won’t have no trouble convincing a girl to let you go to her place. Problem solved. Micky, you always seem to wind up someplace, anyplace, that isn’t here so that’s fine.”
“So, that just leaves you and Peter.” Davy commented, still feeling somewhat put upon by this new system.
If it were even possible, at the mention of his name, Peter’s gaze on the wooden floor intensified, the tips of his ears, peaking though his silken hair, now a bright shade of crimson. Without meaning to, he looked up at Mike for a split second which only managed to fluster them both.
“Well, uh- we just need to make sure we’re, we’re out when Peter brings a chick back. That’s all. Not difficult.” He felt his palms begin to sweat, wiping them slightly on his jeans.
“And what about you?” Micky probed.
“What about me what?”
“What about when you bring a chick back?”
A scoff escaped Mike’s lips before he even had a chance to process it. “When was the last time you ever remember me getting a chick back here?” He was surprised at the bitterness that seemed to veil the question. He wasn’t bitter, at least he didn’t think he was. Then again, his thoughts had been betraying him a little bit lately...
Mike had had more than enough of this conversation and figured they probably had too. “Look, just, communicate. That’s all it’ll take. Then everything will be cool again.”
Micky and Davy looked at each other. Again? What’s that supposed to mean? They didn’t know what had suddenly caused this new bizarre process but Mike seemed dead keen on it so they knew better than to question it.
Peter watched Mike leave from beneath his bangs, feeling the tension melt away with every footstep he made in the opposite direction. Unlike the others, Peter knew exactly what had brought all this on...
The morning after an unexpected hot date a few nights back, Peter had walked said date home, returning to be confronted by a rather flustered and unusually timid Mike.
Peter merely stood in front of him, too worried to even ask what had happened.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I just took-“
“No, it doesn’t matter, I already know. But what was she doing here?”
“Well, we just..sorta...-“
“Nah!” Mike threw his hands up, preventing Peter from continuing. “Stop. Look, um...” He looked into those open, gentle eyes and he began to wonder if he really wanted to get into this at all. But he knew he had to.
“You remember when you were sick that time and you were in bed all day so we holed up upstairs to give ya some space?”
“Remember how you still couldn’t sleep cos we were making too much noise?”
“Oh yeah. Man, these walls are thin! I could hear every little thing. I think sometimes I can even hear Micky snoring.” Peter smiled broadly but it fell slightly when the Texan merely stared back at him with a look of expectancy, as if waiting for him to put the pieces together so he wouldn’t have to spell it out.
Peter stood confused for a moment. But soon enough, a look of realisation washed over him. And in turn, that abruptly transformed into a sickening, sinking feeling. As if to reflect this, he slowly, almost absently, sat down on the arm of the sofa.
“So you...?” Mike nodded slowly, an almost apologetic look on his face.
“And you heard...?”
The sickness intensified. They both looked at anything in the room but each other, Peter running his hands over each other and Mike distractedly picking at his hat. Now what? Mike thought. He hadn’t given any consideration as to what to do after he’d told Peter.
“I’m really sorry, Mike. That must have been...weird.” Mike frowned, trying not to relive it but failing. He shook his head, sharply, partly to dislodge the memory and partly at Peter.
“No. Well, yeah, kinda. Maybe we should just try and sort it out so we don’t...so it doesn’t happen again.”
Another long silence. Mike coughed a little too loudly, making Peter look up at him but he failed to return the gaze.
“Well, uh, that was it.” And with that, Mike made an immediate beeline for the stairs whereas Peter headed straight for the beach, hoping the cool breeze would ease the flush that had been creeping across his face.
After a while, Peter sat himself down, absently drawing swirls in the stand with a stick thinking things through.
It wasn’t so much that he was embarrassed by what Mike had heard, not for himself at least. He just felt really horrible that Mike had heard it.
Everyone knew that Mike was quite a private person, he didn’t talk a lot about himself and when it came to his sex life (assuming he even had one) he kept any details very close to his chest.
So for him to be confronted with what he must have assaulted his ears...well, Peter felt terrible.
Girls didn’t usually throw themselves at Peter, especially when he was with the other guys. His sexual encounters were few and far between, but as a result the ones he did have? Boy howdy, he made the most of it.
As soon as fingers went wandering, he was putty in their hands. He couldn’t control himself, he just fell apart instantly. Davy had once told him that a girl loves to be teased, that she enjoys things more when they are harder to obtain.
Peter tried to follow that advice, to play hard to get but it was no use, he just enjoyed it too much. And he was always eager to please, wanting to make her feel as good as she made him feel.
Last night had been no different, if anything it had been worse as they’d both been a little drunk which always made him a little more...vocal. He shook his head, sadly. If only Mike had said something...he’s probably so traumatised by this whole thing. I hope it won’t affect our friendship.
That’s what was bothering Peter the most, that Mike wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way and was disgusted with the way he behaved or something.
Peter abandoned the stick, lifting his knees up to rest his head in his hands, continuing to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed.
Back at the Pad, Mike was also thinking about the previous night’s events. He felt guilty about making Peter feel humiliated by this, making it his problem, that wasn’t what he wanted but he knew it was better than Peter knowing the truth. It’s not that what Mike had said was a lie, he had just left out some of the details.
It was true that Mike had heard everything, and it was true that it had made him uncomfortable...but that wasn’t the half of it.
Micky and Davy had gone out on a double date and Peter went to check out a new band that was performing at the Vincent Van Go-Go. After about an hour on his own, wandering aimless around the pad, periodically picking up his guitar to play some chords, Mike decided to head out to the Club Cassandra to see if he could get them a gig there.
He left the guys a note and set off.
Not even half an hour later, he was back at the Pad having gotten into an argument with the manager who refused to pay them a reasonable amount. Finding no aspirin to ease his throbbing headache, he just decided to head straight to bed.
He was woken about 4 hours later by two pairs of feet stumbling haphazardly across the living room floor.
Headache finally gone, Mike smiled to himself, sleepily. Sounds like Micky and Davy had a good night…
Suddenly, a high-pitched laugh echoed through the house causing Mike to frown a little. His thoughts were quickly interrupted.
“Man, you are totally drunk.” Came Peter’s voice, a little slurred himself.
That woke Mike up instantly. He sat upright, straining to hear what was happening although he needn’t have tried so hard, he could hear them as clearly as if they were in the room. That’s Peter. Peter…with a girl.
Quite frankly, it wasn’t common. It was weird to see Davy without a girl, Micky was the same but to a lesser extent. But Peter? He was always too shy when it came to the ladies, he never really seemed to try and they got the impression that it never bothered him.
So to hear him downstairs, with a girl that by the sound of it was falling all over him…it was unexpected to say the least.
Mike realised that Peter would probably read the note that Mike had left and would still assume he was out. He knew he should let him know but a part of him thought that Peter deserved something of a break, what was the problem?
That question was answered minutes later, as Mike’s attempt to get back to sleep was stilted by more giggling accompanied by distinctly feminine moans.
Mike inwardly grumbled to himself. Great…this is all I need. I can already feel that damn headache coming back. It was fairly quiet but still enough to keep him awake. He found himself contemplating the situation, trying to decipher it. He figured they were making out and by the sound of it, Peter was doing a damn good job. Or she was just easy to please.
He was beginning to get used to the sounds, drifting off, when the other moans started.
His eyes went wide at the development. She must have turned the tables on him, giving as good as she got. Peter’s moans were far louder and seemingly less controlled, coming in short, sharp bursts.
Mike swallowed hard, knowing he would be unable to get away from the sinful sounds no matter where he went. He didn’t even want to think about what she was doing…but the harder he tried not to think about it, the more images would pop into his head.
He imagined her freeing his undoubtedly impressive erection from his form fitting pants and stroking it with slow, languid motions. His chest heaving up and down with the effort to keep himself together, head lolling onto the back of the sofa.
Peter’s moans increased a little, no doubt she’s jerking him faster now, pushing him to the brink. It was then that Mike noticed that he himself was rock hard. He flushed a dark red though no-one was around to see it.
It’s just cos it’s sex, that’s all. It’s a perfectly natural reaction to have when you hear something like this… He repeated it over and over but he knew it wasn’t the thought of sex happening below him, it was the thought of Peter.
“Mmm, yeah…” Drifted through the ceiling, making Mike curse to himself as his cock twitched in reaction. He knew it was no good, he had to do something before it became too agonising.
He quickly slipped a hand below the elastic waistband of his pajamas, grasping the leaking erection beneath and with a shaky breath began to tug it quickly to get it over with before he had time to dwell on the fact he was getting off on hearing his friend being pleasured.
But soon enough, he found himself slowing down, going to the rhythm of Peter’s moans, focusing even more on it than he had been before.
“Ah, shit, yes!” Peter’s moans suddenly got louder and more frantic, as did Mike’s hand movements. “Please, please, take more…suck it…”
Mike stifled a groan as his mental images changed to that thick cock gliding between lips…but not her lips, not a woman’s lips…
Her moans suddenly joined in then, no doubt they had moved on to a more mutual activity. But Mike barely registered them, he could only hone in on Peter, his companion merely a faceless catalyst for his messed up fantasy.
Peter continued to get louder and chattier as he got closer and closer, Mike thrusting desperately into his own fist, gripping the side of the bed with his free hand.
“Oh, that’s it! UNGH!” And with that Peter came, explosively. Mike assumed she did too but he was too busy shoving his face into his pillow to smother the intense flurry of groans that escaped him as he reached his own peak, thinking about what it would be like to see Peter lose control in the throes of passion and being the one to cause such a thing.
Too drained to move and clean himself up, he just drifted off into an unsettled sleep, thinking about what this may mean.
The memories hit him with the force of a freight train in the morning when he saw his pajamas in the state he had left them in. He was horrified at what had happened, what he’d done.
But it felt good. God, had it felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard. Therefore, he had to come up with some way to prevent it from ever happening again.
And so the system was created. And the system worked.
They actually wound up getting the gig at Club Cassandra arguing that just because they were hiring Monkees didn’t mean they could pay them peanuts. So that was the whole of July booked up, they performed 3 times a week and had a good crowd.
Female attention was always much more apparent when they played so as a result the system proved pretty handy. Mike, naturally, claimed that this was his point all along, hoping to make Peter feel more at ease.
The system may have been doing its job but it was doing nothing to stop Mike’s thoughts about the blond. Thoughts that were getting worse.
A week or so after the incident, he noticed that he would watch the bassist continually to the point of staring, watching his ass sway as he walked. Then he started having dreams where those tantalizing sounds were almost deafening.
As things went on, he found himself trying, actually making a conscious effort to catch sight of Peter in all his glory. “Accidentally” walking in on him while he was in the shower, spending much more time watching him on the beach in those shorts…he was going crazy just dying to get a glimpse of what he had been imagining. And it worried him. A lot.
The gigs were proving to be a good distraction, giving him something else to concentrate on but he knew the respite would be short lived…
“Goddamnit Mick! Didn’t I tell ya not to go nuts, huh?”
Micky hung his head in shame, his unruly curls more wild than usual from his lack of sleep.
“Sorry, Mike.” He whispered, huskily, wincing at the pain.
Mike sighed. He couldn’t be angry at Micky, it was just part of who he was and what people loved about him. He’d been getting more and more energetic as the gigs had gone on and last night a stunning blond caught his eye and he went all out to impress her…managing to lose his voice by the end of it.
He’d been coughing all night and nothing seemed to be clearing it up, putting them in a critical situation for tonight’s performance.
“Why can’t Mike just stand in for Micky? Maybe change some of the songs around a bit, I think it would make a nice change. No offence, Mick.” Micky shrugged at Peter’s suggestion, he had no problem with it. Davy was OK with the idea too but Mike wasn’t as convinced.
“But they show up for rock n’ roll, I don’t think I can give ‘em that.”
“Well, Davy’ll still sing that kinda stuff, that doesn’t matter. I like to think people listen to us because we’re different, we’re more than a rock n’ roll group, mostly thanks to you.” Peter trailed off, realising he was sounding a little gushy, especially when he saw Mike’s wide-eyed expression. “Or…you know, whatever.”
Mike smiled to himself. Peter had a lot of intelligent stuff to say, they just rarely listened to him. No, you’re too busy listening to the things he doesn’t want you to hear! A snide voice inside his head chided. The thought made him frown as he slinked away from the group, making Peter feel like he had said something wrong.
He had been right, Mike had been behaving differently around him and he hated it. No matter how much he tried to just act as if nothing ever happened, Mike would always seem like he was trying to get away.
“Don’t worry, Peter, he’s probably just thinking about having to re-arrange the set list.” Davy reassured, noticing the dejected look on his face. Even though he had misinterpreted it, Peter still took some comfort in his words.
The show was huge.
A lot of people turned up and they had a blast. Micky, unable to sing, put all his never-ending energy into his drumming instead, riling up the crowd. Davy made all the girls swoon as usual and Mike was astounded at how popular his songs were.
Peter beamed at him during “Sweet Young Thing” with an “I-told-you-so” look. It was quite overwhelming…not least because the rearrangement put him next to Peter where he had a perfect view of that toned body, bucking and swivelling against that bass of his.
He found himself clinging onto his guitar for dear life, trying to hide the hard-on he was getting just from watching him, he was amazed he could remember to sing.
Once the set was over, Mike had an unexpected surprise waiting for him.
Micky and Davy were usually always swarmed by the female element of the audience, all practically throwing themselves at the singers.
Well, it looked like it was Mike’s turn for some of the attention (they really were a fickle lot). Women were fawning over him, giggling at every little thing he said, whispering things to him...All the while, he watched Peter from across the club, sorting out his equipment while trying to keep his distance from the crowd
How can he do that?! How can he be so shy and innocent all the time but lose apparently any inhibitions when he’s left alone with a chick?
Many a woman tried to get Mike’s attention, many a woman gave up realising that he was not at all interested. But one woman lingered, determined to get through to him.
He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, eyes still stuck firmly on the hippie who was now talking to a young, dark haired woman. If someone had to pick a word to describe his expression, it would be a glower.
In his periphery, he saw the woman that had been following him around all night approach him and he groaned inwardly. God, why can’t people just leave me to suffer in peace?
“Hey, you.” She said, teasingly.
“So? Have you thought about my offer?” Mike didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, he’d tuned her out hours ago but he could guess what it involved.
“Yeah. Sorry, not interested.”
She pouted in what she assumed was an appealing way but Mike wasn’t paying attention, he was watching that dark haired woman across the way now rubbing her hand up and down Peter’s arm.
“Come on, it’ll just be a bit of fun. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed…” Now she too was running her hands over Mike’s arm. Was that woman whispering the same proposition to Peter, he wondered?
He saw as she snaked her hand round to Peter’s ass, grasping it firmly and making him tremble slightly as he leant into her. The display was beginning to make Mike a little too hot under the collar. This was not helped by his pursuer noticing how flustered he was getting.
“Yeah, you wanna play, I can tell. Let me give you what you want…” Then, keeping her eyes firmly on the side of his face, she slipped her hand to his crotch, stroking a finger over the cock that was starting to stir from what he was seeing.
His eyes fluttered closed at the contact which she took as a good sign, increasing the pressure a tiny bit. As he opened his eyes, his gaze landed straight on Peter who was now devouring the raven haired woman. A moan forced its way out of Mike’s lips but before he let himself go any further, he broke away from the woman and the view, muttering something about having some business to attend to.
He sat at a table, wishing vehemently that the growing erection would settle down and no-one would notice.
But seconds later, he was corralled by Davy and Micky.
“What are you doin’?” Davy asked with utter incomprehension.
Micky, who bore much the same exasperated expression as Davy, pointed at the woman that had been hitting on him, then pointed at Mike and nudging him in an attempt to convey what he couldn’t voice. Mike merely looked at him, then at Davy.
“You should lose the mime…” He quipped, making Davy smirk and Micky pout. “What are you getting at?”
“I think that was, ‘who was that hot chick and can Davy have her number?’” Micky slapped Davy upside the head, causing him to laugh and grimace at the same time. Micky grabbed a napkin, taking a pen from Mike’s jacket pocket and scribbled down his thoughts. He handed it across to Mike to read.
“’What the hell are you doing? She was hot and all over you. Why’d you turn her away??’” Mike sighed, unable to really explain why. “I just…I dunno. I wasn’t feelin’ it.”
Micky raised an eyebrow, casting a brief but unmissable glance at the hard-on he was still sporting making Mike blush slightly.
“OK, OK, point taken. I dunno, it’s just not the kinda thing I do.”
“Well, no offense mate, but maybe it should be once in a while. Just chill out for once. I think getting laid would sort out a lot of your problems.” And with that, they left him in peace.
“Getting laid would sort out a lot of your problems”… Mike played that over and over again in his mind. He might just have a point…It’s probably nothing to do with Peter, it’s probably just the fact I ain’t gotten laid in…longer than I care to remember. Maybe that would be all I needed to get over this, to stop thinking about Peter…who is probably in some dark corner of the club, sticking his tongue down that chicks throat, groping her, getting hard as he grinds into her…Oh, god…
Mike almost knocked his chair over in his haste to get out. Thanks to his height, he easily spotted his blond pursuer across the club, talking to one of the owners. Without saying a single word, he grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her out of the club. Not that she was complaining.
He was intercepted at the exit by Davy, quickly running over to him.
“Not now, Davy, got problems to sort out...” He said with a wink and was gone.
A short walk later (although ultimately longer than usual due to the sudden bouts of furious making out and groping) Mike, still attached to the girls mouth, was fumbling with the door.
Finally managing to get his fingers to work the door knob, they practically fell into the Pad, tongues still down each other’s throats.
But even that couldn’t prevent him from noticing a sudden rush of movement from the couch.
“Michael!” Mike abruptly broke from the kiss, spinning round to face Peter who was standing, flattening out invisible creases in his shirt while his companion remained somewhat sprawled on the sofa.
“What are you doing here?” He practically squeaked.
“Yeah, didn’t Davy tell you I was coming back here?”
Ah… It seemed he had failed at his own system, so eager to overcome the problem only to run into it headfirst.
“I uh, I guess I didn’t see him…” Boy, did he look good. His cheeks were flushed red with his exertions, lips kiss swollen, his sandy hair slightly dishevelled, eyes with a glassy sheen and Mike couldn’t resist the brief look down to see him well on his way to a full erection. Mike’s pulse sped up, as did his breathing.
“I should probably…get going…” Mike said, half-heartedly hearing his date (if you could even call her that) whine a little as she ran her hand through his hair, licking his ear making him shudder despite himself.
“No, no, don’t…” Peter quickly interjected. He could tell how aroused Mike was and that he probably couldn’t hold out much longer, he didn’t want to get in the way of Mike’s need.
“Look, you stay here, we’ll, we’ll sort something out…” He looked down at the dark haired woman to see her frowning up at him.
“I like it here.” She stated, defiantly.
“I know, but Mike lives here too-ooooh!” Not wanting to hear any excuses, she wrapped a hand around his thigh to the front of his pants, grasping the erection through the fabric.
Mike and Peter stared at each other for a beat, both feeling more than a little awkward at being so openly turned on in front of each other. It was Mike that broke the silence.
“Know what? We’ll both stay, won’t make no difference once we…y’know…get started.”
“Great!” Said Mike’s girl, already dragging him upstairs. Peter didn’t seem sure but that relentless hand soon made him forget about anything but his immediate needs.
Mike had barely made it into the room when she pushed him down on the bed, crawling on top of him, her lips seeking his own. He was finding it hard to keep up with the force of her advances.
“What…what’s your…name?” He asked, in between kisses.
“Cindy.” She replied, clearly not wanting to waste time with small talk as she got to unbuttoning his shirt. He decided to just let her get on with it and wait to make a move when the opportunity arose.
She began licking down his exposed chest, nipping lightly, looking up to see the affect she was having on him.
The chemical affect was there, certainly, his cock was practically straining at the zipper, but he was beginning to lose all conviction of what was happening. He was not a one-night-stand type of person, he wasn’t accustomed to this sort of thing and he realised he just didn’t have a taste for it.
He had just about resigned himself to sending her on her way and resorting to a cold shower when a half-strangled moan emanated from below.
Peter’s fling (Claire, was it?) had decided to skip the making out and go straight for the groping, slipping her hand inside his pants and stroking the hard piece of flesh.
At the first contact, he felt the moan escape before he had a proper chance to control it, only managing to choke it at the end. He was all too aware that Mike could probably hear him and didn’t want a repeat of last time.
She began to stroke him faster, making it harder for him to keep himself in check. He leant back into the sofa bonelessly, closing his eyes tight as she slipped her free hand into his shirt, running it over the toned chest.
Just...try not to get too carried away, just go with it and try to keep quiet. You don’t wanna upset Mike while he’s trying to do his own thing up there... Suddenly, Peter’s mind seemed to trail off into what might be going on above him, how she was probably working his cock too, teasing him to full hardness, making him squirm with need...
Peter began to make a soft keening noise at the back of his throat, thrusting slightly into Claire’s hand. He was getting hotter by the second, but was that from her...or from what he was thinking about? The thought made him pause but he didn’t have time to contemplate as she ran her thumb over the head, spreading around the pre-cum collecting there.
“Ah, shit! Mmm!”
Mike gripped the sheets below him, trying to shut out the steady moans but he couldn’t ignore them. His dick noticeably twitched in its confines, causing Cindy to look up at him with a smirk.
“Sooo, you want some of what your friend’s getting, huh?” She asked, trailing a finger down to his pants and popping the button open.
No, I just want my friend... That voice piped up again but he tried to shut it out, focusing instead on the hand now pulling the zipper down with agonising slowness. He noted with a certain pride the way her eyes got a little wide as she pulled the pants down and off, freeing the massive erection.
She ran her hands up and down the quivering flesh of his thighs, leaning in for another kiss. He moaned into her mouth as he heard another string of curses and groans below. The kisses travelled down, down, until she reached her goal.
Mike had his eyes closed again, just willing her to get on and do something before his brain turned to mush. But she didn’t make a move. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him wickedly.
“Well? What do you want?”
Mike had never been one for games or talking during sex, it made him uncomfortable but he was so desperate to get things going, he didn’t have much choice.
“Suck it. Please, suck my cock...” He muttered, huskily, hoping that would get him what he wanted. It did and she leant down, sucking the head into her mouth.
“Oooh, fuck...” He groaned, bucking up slightly into her mouth as his grip on the sheets tightened.
Finding the lack of space frustrating, Peter had dragged Claire into his bedroom, quickly removing both of their shirts. His tongue tangled with hers as he deftly unhooked her bra, lowering her onto the bed.
His tongue traced down to her nipple, flicking the hard nub and sucking it gently before continuing down. She squirmed in delight, pushing him down to kneel on the floor.
Grasping each thigh, he pulled her to the foot of the bed then proceeded to slide his hands under her mini skirt, pushing it up while pressing feather light kisses to the inside of her thighs.
Hooking his fingers under her panties, already warm and damp, he pulled them down her long legs as she arched her back in an almost feline way allowing him to slide them off with ease.
He spread her legs, burying his head between her thighs, head swimming with the scent of her arousal.
“Jesus, would you get on already? I’m dyin’ here!” She whined, wriggling into his face to get him started. He grinned a little at her insistence. Peter didn’t like to brag, but he knew how to drive a chick wild and he could tell this one would be a lot of fun.
He licked around her opening before darting his tongue inside. He felt the sensation shoot through her as she pushed further into him, moaning softly.
Meanwhile, Mike was getting one heck of a blowjob. She licked around the head, moving up and down the shaft while raking her fingers up his thighs. Occasionally she would make a glorious humming noise at the back of her throat that sent vibrations up his shaft making him shiver.
“Oh, Peter, mmm...”
Hearing Peter’s name in such a breathless moan suddenly overloaded Mike’s brain, a thousand thoughts running through his head. But there was one prevalent one...
God, Peter really sounds like he knows what he’s doing...Those lips, fuck, and that tongue? Mmm, I bet he can work wonders. Yeah, want those lips around my cock, want in that mouth...
“Fuck, yes...more...” Mike’s internal mutterings began to be vocalised as he imagined the beautiful bassist going down on him, sucking his pulsating cock for all it was worth. He continued to thrust into her mouth, his moans increasing in frequency and volume.
“Oh, Christ, take it all the way, babe. Swallow that cock, yeah...”
Peter was quickly losing his grip on reality, the dirty talk pounding in his head. He had never considered Mike to be the vocal type, let alone one for dirty talk, she must be good.
You’d be better...A small voice in his head said to him. Peter knew that Mike was quite the package, it wasn’t hard to tell, but fully aroused? Shit, even the thought sent an unexplainable tingle up Peter’s spine.
Mike was always so in control, so contained, he would give anything to please him, to give him a thrill. Sucking that juicy cock, taking him all the way down (which he doubted she would be able to manage) and hearing him cry out frenziedly, losing any inhibitions.
Another loud groan made Peter’s already agonisingly hard cock throb with need. He gripped harder onto Claire’s hips, thrusting his tongue inside her with renewed vigour while grinding his crotch into the bed, trying to relieve some of the aching tension.
As the moans got louder as she brought him closer to his climax, Peter’s tongue worked relentlessly, moving from Claire’s pussy to her clit, taking the small bud into his mouth and working it mercilessly.
God, he wanted to make him come...Him? No, make her come. Her. But Peter knew he was right the first time, he was dying to hear Mike lose it. He wanted to feel Mike’s hands on him, forcing him down, making him swallow everything he had to give and Peter would gladly accept.
He was rudely interrupted as his vigorous ministrations began to tip his girl over the edge and her moans took on a high pitched, desperate tone, drowning out the blissful sounds he had be so focused on.
With a slight roll of the eyes, he raised a hand blindly towards her head, finding her mouth and slid two fingers in which she instinctively began to suck, silencing her orgasm as her juices filled his mouth.
But the moans had stopped. Peter was bitterly disappointed that he had missed the moment and then began to wonder why the hell it mattered so much. This was his friend. Why was he so intent on hearing what he was getting up to, he was pretty damned sure Mike wouldn’t approve.
But the whole thing was bringing up some bizarre feelings that Peter had never acknowledged. Like the way he was always so eager to please the Texan, or how he was always happy when Mike was happy. How he always found himself wondering how his mind works... Mike was a big conundrum to Peter, someone who was so open about everything, he couldn’t understand how Mike could just lock everything up.
He wanted to make Mike feel wanted, because he was. Peter wanted Mike. It was quite a revelation and not exactly the time to have it as he felt himself being dragged up to have dry lips pressed to his.
She was desperate for him by now, trying to communicate her need by grinding into him. He felt bad as he had suddenly lost all interest in the proceedings...but then the moans started again. Both of them this time, looks like he hadn’t missed out after all.
Mike had chosen to abandon the blowjob when he thrust his hand into the hair buried between his legs, subconsciously hoping to find luscious, sandy locks but finding thick frizz instead. The disappointment and disillusionment shook him so much that he knew he had to get down to business. Fucking this chick would make it all go away, that’s what he needed...
He pulled her up by the arms, turning her over so she lay beneath him and pinned her arms to the bed. The initial shock at the sudden change of pace was swiftly replaced with a strong desire to be taken by this strong, silent type.
He captured her lips in a series of fierce kisses, with each one trying to push away any thoughts of his friend. She suddenly grabbed his bare ass, wrapping her legs tightly around him.
“Hurry up and fuck me, I can’t wait...”
Mike didn’t think he could either, his cock already a dark red from the unresolved blowjob. Without any care or consideration, he thrust in, forcing a loud groan out of both of them as Mike began rocking back and forth.
Yeah, this is it...this is normal...God, she feels good, don’t think I can last much longer. Maybe Davy was right, maybe I should do this more often...
He kept up the rhythm, revelling in the feel of her hands restlessly running all over his body, digging her nails in as she clung on to him. Everything was great, until:
The exclamation pounded straight through Mike who uncontrollably pressed his hips hard against Cindy, bucking wildly into her, hitting her g-spot repeatedly. His grip on her arms intensified, almost cutting off the circulation but she barely noticed, concentrating instead on the rigorous movements inside of her.
Peter hadn’t been being modest about his ability, getting Claire off hadn’t sated her in the slightest. On the contrary it had just made her absolutely ravenous for him. In a deft movement, she had him under her, pants down to his ankles as she knelt poised above him.
She tweaked his nipples, making him wince but at the same time the pain seemed to spider-web across his skin making it tingle. She positioned herself so that the tip of his leaking cock was just brushing the lips of her pussy.
Despite his previous impassiveness, the warmth that was suddenly surrounding him was just too inviting. Needing to be filled more than anything in that moment, she thrust down, impaling herself on the erection causing Peter to almost double over as his cock was so completely surrounded.
He cursed loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear, but he didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t, he couldn’t be something he wasn’t. He enjoyed this and wanted to share that, tough luck if it made people uncomfortable...
...Or got them horny as all fuck as the case seemed to be upstairs.
Mike’s brain had snapped as he fucked Cindy with the force of a jackhammer. The urgency for them both was becoming overpowering, but as Mike went into meltdown, he finally surrendered to his fantasies.
Oh, to be sliding into that vibrant body, hard and soft in all the right places. To run his hands over the soft skin, to nuzzle into that perfect hair, kiss those full lips until they became sore. There wasn’t a single part of that man he didn’t want to devour...and he was beyond denying it now, what good could it do?
“Uhhh, god, feels so good...” He muttered, eyes firmly closed as his thrusts picked up.
Claire was rocking harder on Peter’s cock by now, muttering incoherently to herself, seeking her release. He wondered what it would feel like to have Mike on top of him then, fucking him so straight and true.
Just the thought of having that stoic figure hovering over him, cock in his ass, riding him hard and giving and taking with him all at once...He begun to thrust up into Claire, bangs sticking to his forehead with the sweat that was pouring off him.
“Oh, shit, yes! Want you, god I want you...”
Mike wanted to feel that stiff cock rubbing against his stomach making Peter breathless with lust. Then he’d wrap his fingers around it, jerking it hard and fast, hearing Peter moan at him, for him, because of him...
“Ahh, little bit further, come on, babe, almost there...”
“Oh, yes, harder. Fuck me harder!” Peter cried to the ceiling, through the ceiling.
Mike’s pace quickened as he gripped onto Cindy’s hips allowing him to get balls deep inside her. “Gotta come, so fucking close...”
“With you, wan-wanna come with you...” Peter rambled, feeling his impending orgasm as his balls tightened, painfully.
“Yes, yes, come for me, babe. Come all over me...I need it, I need you...please!”
The sheer desperation and pleading in Mike’s voice as he muttered to Cindy tipped Peter over the edge, way over the edge. So much so, fantasy completely collided with reality.
“Oh, GOD MICHAEL, YES! HNGHHH!” He practically screamed as his orgasm tore through him and he twitched and spasmed on the bed, almost throwing Claire off.
Mike was so delirious he could have sworn he heard his own name but it didn’t matter if he did or not, the cry itself was all he would have needed to reach his explosive peak.
“UNGHH, FUCK! PETER, CHRIST!” And he came in three sharp, shuddering waves, pressing as hard into the body below as he could to milk the release.
Then there was silence.
No-one moved as the last few moments sunk in. But pretty much every thought consisted of: Did he just say...?
Mike rolled onto his back, sensing the weight shift as Cindy got up, gathering her clothes and leaving the room without saying a word.
Claire climbed off of Peter, holding in a hiss at the loss of contact. He was still struggling to catch his breath and barely caught the sound of her departure, accompanied by a disgusted huff, as the blood pounded in his ears.
Neither, however, could miss the slam of the front door that shook every wall in the Pad. Mike manoeuvred himself so he was lying on his front, cock still sensitive as it rubbed against the sheets, arm hanging over the edge of the bed while Peter lay gazing at the ceiling.
Should I say something?
He’s gonna hate me...
He’ll probably never wanna talk to me again...
I’m never takin’ advice from Davy again...
I can’t lose him, not now...
I don’t wanna scare him away...
I should say something...
Please, say something, Peter...
“Mike?” Peter was surprised out how hoarse his throat was, he must have been louder than he realised. With a slight cough, he tried again. “Hey...Mike?”
Mike’s ears pricked up. He felt knots form in his stomach but wouldn’t let them get in the way of this.
“You OK?” Great question, Peter. Could you be any more vague?
“Uh...Sure.” I’d be a lot better if I knew what was about to happen, where we stand.
Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, it had gone too far to not just make the final leap and hope someone would catch him.
“Do you think we could...do that again? Sometime?”
Mike’s eyes went wide. Sure, it wasn’t the dream but having Peter not be mad at him was the main thing. Being given the opportunity to listen to that again without feeling intrusive or perverse was a much appreciated bonus. Mike would take what he could get, who knows? Maybe it could change into something else.
“Sure thing, shotgun.”
Peter smiled, brightly. Mike had caught him from that leap...but there was that one final step. The step that would lead him into his arms.
“Michael?” Mike’s blood pressure almost went through the roof, the sensual way in which his name was spoken making him shiver.
“What Peter?” He asked, shakily.
“...Next time...can we try it without the chicks?”
Mike had never smiled so big in his entire life, letting out a big, satisfied sigh that even Peter could hear.
“Absolutely, babe. You bet.” And with that, their exertions finally got the better of them and they both fell asleep, dreaming about the moment their fantasies could finally be made reality.