Jake's Fantasy - The Gooner Gang Part 21

Jake's POV

I’d never said it out loud before. Not even to Caleb.

But after everything we’d shared at the beach house—the whispered confessions, the moans at midnight, the salt in our skin and cum in our chests—I finally let it slip.

We were sprawled naked on the living room floor, bodies still glistening from the last session. I don’t know what sparked it. Maybe it was the way Caleb was absently tracing circles on my chest with his fingertip. Or maybe I was just too turned on, too overwhelmed, to keep anything inside anymore.

“I’ve always wanted to be... used,” I muttered.

Caleb’s hand paused. “Used?”

“Not in a rough way. More like… worshipped. Like, no hands. Just tongues. All over me. Like I’m something they crave. I don’t move. I don’t touch myself. I just… take it.”

The room went still. Tom raised his eyebrows. Lucas let out a slow exhale, clearly imagining it.

And then Caleb said, “Say no more.”

—

They made me lie down on the big beach towel we’d brought back from the ocean, right in the middle of the living room. The curtains were drawn, but the faint glow of dusk peeked through.

They told me not to move.

“Tonight,” Caleb whispered, hovering over me, “you’re not Jake. You’re our feast.”

I swallowed. My dick was already twitching.

Tom knelt beside me first. He started slow—just his tongue, flicking over the ridge of my hipbone. Lucas followed, licking down the side of my thigh. Caleb took my armpit, dragging his tongue over the soft hair, breathing me in like I was the finest thing he’d ever tasted.

I whimpered. That alone almost made me cum.

They took their time. And they meant it.

My nipples were suckled like they were sacred. My neck was kissed until I was panting. Lucas went for the backs of my knees, then between my toes, like some perverted devotion ritual. My dick was rock hard, drooling, untouched.

I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. I was shaking, letting them do whatever they wanted—as long as it was with their tongues.

Tom dragged his tongue up my spine, whispering, “You taste like need.” Then bit gently at my shoulder blade.

Caleb licked down my ass crack, slowly, reverently, while Lucas sucked my earlobe and Tom traced my ribs with the tip of his tongue. I was a temple and they were worshipping every crevice.

I wanted to scream.

I was being edged in the cruelest, most tender way imaginable. Over an hour had passed. I could tell because I was sweating and twitching and moaning with every breath.

Still, no one touched my cock. Still, I wasn’t allowed.

Lucas whispered, “How close are you?”

I gasped. “If you blow on it I’ll cum.”

Caleb smiled. “Then I guess it’s my turn.”

He knelt between my legs and finally—finally—wrapped his lips around the head of my cock.

No hands. Just his mouth. His tongue. His warmth.

It was slow. Deep. Like he was trying to imprint himself on me from the inside out.

I cried out. My hands clenched the towel. My toes curled. I begged.

“Please, please, Caleb, fuck—please—”

And then I came.

Hard. Violently. With a sob I couldn’t stop. My whole body arched off the towel, every nerve lit on fire, every inch of me shuddering under their gaze. Caleb held me in his mouth, swallowing, humming, still licking me clean like I was his only meal.

When it was over, I collapsed. Chest heaving. Eyes burning.

Caleb crawled up to me and kissed my forehead.

“I’ve never let anyone do that before,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why we wanted to do it right.”

I looked at them. Tom, Lucas, Caleb. All smiling. All glowing.

And for a second, I didn’t feel used.

I felt... worshipped.

Like I mattered.