Kota leaned back against the heavy mahogany door, his breath already coming in uneven bursts as Theo's hand worked him with that fierce, almost angry rhythm. The strokes were tight and insistent, each one pulling a low groan from deep in his chest. He glanced down at Theo kneeling there on the ornate Persian rug, the principal's face a mask of determination mixed with that obvious pout—lips pursed, brows furrowed, eyes locked on his task like it was the only thing anchoring him. Kota's mind raced ahead; he figured they'd keep this handjob pace going for another ten minutes or so, drawing it out, letting the tension build until he was begging for more. Theo's jealousy-fueled energy had a raw edge to it, but it felt controlled, like he was venting without tipping over into chaos. Plenty of time to talk Theo down, maybe tease him a little, turn the mood playful again.
He cleared his throat, trying to break the intensity with some small talk. "So... this room. It's, uh, something else. How many books you got in here anyway? Looks like a library exploded."
Theo didn't look up. His hand kept moving—up, twist, down, squeeze. "Thousands."
One word. Flat. Pouting harder now, his lower lip jutting out like a sulky child's.
Kota shifted his hips slightly, the sensation building but still manageable. He tried again, voice casual despite the heat coiling in his gut. "Yeah? What's your favorite? You strike me as a classics guy. Shakespeare? Or something more modern, like those old sci-fi novels from before the Vanishing?"
"Fiction." Theo's reply was clipped, barely audible over the soft, slick sounds of his hand gliding along Kota's shaft. He tightened his grip on an upstroke, thumb circling the head roughly, as if punishing Kota for asking.
Kota hissed through his teeth, pleasure spiking sharp for a second before settling. Theo's pout deepened, his free hand resting on Kota's thigh, nails digging in just enough to sting. Kota could see the jealousy still simmering there, the way Theo's cheeks flushed not just from exertion but from the memory of the twins downstairs, their flirty encirclement, their shameless appraisal. It was almost cute—if cute could be this intense, this possessive. He decided to pivot, try compliments instead. Maybe flattery would crack that sulky shell.
"You're really good at this, you know," Kota murmured, voice low and rough. "Better than anyone else. The way you—"
Mid-sentence, Theo lunged forward without warning.
His mouth engulfed Kota in one swift, deep motion—lips stretching wide around the thick base, throat relaxing to take him all the way down until his nose brushed Kota's pubic bone. The heat was immediate, overwhelming: wet, tight, pulsing as Theo swallowed around him. Kota's words choked off into a strangled gasp, hands flying to Theo's head on instinct, fingers tangling in soft hair.
"Fuck—Theo, go easy," Kota managed, voice strained. His hips bucked involuntarily, but Theo didn't pull back. If anything, he doubled down—head bobbing fast, tongue pressing flat against the underside, cheeks hollowing with suction that bordered on punishing. The pout was gone now, replaced by fierce focus, eyes watering but locked upward, meeting Kota's gaze with a mix of defiance and desperation.
Kota's protest dissolved into a moan. He hadn't expected the switch—hadn't braced for the sudden shift from hand to mouth, from steady build to all-out assault. Theo's throat worked around him, muscles contracting in rhythmic swallows that sent jolts straight to his core. It was too much, too fast. His balls tightened, the pressure building like a dam cracking. "Theo—slow down, I'm—"
But Theo didn't stop. He hummed low in his throat, the vibration traveling up Kota's length like an electric current. His hands joined in—one stroking the base in time with his bobs, the other cupping and rolling Kota's balls with insistent pressure. The room spun slightly; the bookshelves blurred at the edges of Kota's vision. He gripped Theo's hair tighter, not sure if he was trying to pull him off or hold him there. The pleasure crested hard and fast—within thirty seconds of that first deepthroat, Kota shattered.
He came with a guttural curse, hips thrusting forward as ropes of thick cum flooded Theo's mouth. Theo took it all, swallowing greedily, throat milking every pulse, not spilling a drop. His eyes fluttered shut in what looked like bliss, a soft moan vibrating around Kota's cock as he drank him down. Kota's legs trembled, knees nearly buckling; he braced harder against the door, waves of aftershock rippling through him.
But Theo wasn't done.
Even as Kota's orgasm tapered, Theo kept stroking—hand slick with saliva and cum, pumping steadily along the oversensitive length. Kota gasped, hips jerking away on reflex. "Theo—fuck, stop, it's too much—"
Theo ignored him. His pout returned, but now it was triumphant, edged with that same pent-up anger from before. He stroked faster, twisting his wrist on every upstroke, thumb pressing into the slit to coax out the last dribbles. Kota's vision hazed; the pleasure twisted into something sharper, almost painful, his nerves firing on overload. He was almost out of it—head lolling back against the door, breaths coming in ragged pants, body limp and spent—when Theo finally relented.
With a soft pop, he released Kota's cock, letting it fall heavy and glistening against his thigh. Theo stood slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Without a word, he stripped—cashmere sweater tugged over his head, slacks unbuttoned and shoved down, underwear following in one fluid motion. His own tiny nub bobbed free, hard and leaking, but he paid it no attention. Naked now, pale skin flushed pink from exertion, he turned and bent over the edge of the massive four-poster bed—ass presented high, cheeks parting to reveal that pink, fluttering hole still slick from whatever prep he'd done earlier.
"Come on," Theo whispered, voice husky and demanding despite the earlier stutter. "Fuck me. Show me I'm better."
Kota pushed off the door, legs still shaky, cock already twitching back to life at the sight. Theo's ass was a masterpiece—planetary cheeks quivering with anticipation, the deep cleft inviting, hole winking as if begging. He stepped forward, one hand reaching to steady himself on Theo's hip, the other guiding his hardening length toward that waiting entrance.
Before he could press in—before the head even breached— the door burst open with a bang.
Kota whipped around, heart slamming into his ribs.
Elliot and Grayson tumbled in, laughing breathlessly, their ginger hair disheveled like they'd been pressed against the keyhole. They froze mid-step, eyes widening in unison as they took in the scene: Theo bent over the bed, ass up; Kota standing there with his pants around his ankles, cock still semi-hard and glistening.
"Holy shit," Elliot breathed, mouth dropping open.
Grayson's hand flew to his chest. "We've been watching the whole time—through the vent in the hall, classic move—but... damn. That cock. It's huge."
Kota's face burned. He backed up instinctively, trying to yank his pants up, but his foot caught on the bunched fabric. He stumbled, arms windmilling, and fell backward onto the bed—landing flat on his back amid the burgundy velvet, cock bobbing obscenely in the air.
The twins exchanged a hungry look, then advanced. Theo straightened from the bed, spinning to join them, his own eyes dark with renewed lust.
Elliot licked his lips. "Look at that monster. No wonder Theo's been hiding you."
Grayson nodded, already shrugging off his shirt. "Room for three more?"
Theo didn't protest this time. Instead, he climbed onto the bed beside Kota, looming over him with the twins flanking. Their bodies—pale, freckled, curvaceous—hovered close, heat radiating, eyes fixed on Kota's exposed length with raw, shared hunger.
Kota swallowed hard, trapped under their gazes, the air thick with anticipation.
The twins exchanged a hungry, predatory look, grins spreading wide. Theo straightened from his bent position, spinning to face them, but instead of outrage, his eyes darkened with shared lust. He climbed onto the bed beside Kota, looming over him with the twins flanking—Elliot on one side, Grayson on the other. Their bodies hovered close, heat radiating from their pale, freckled skin, dramatic curves accentuated by their tight clothes. Eyes fixed on Kota's exposed cock with raw, unfiltered desire, they leaned in like wolves circling prey.
Elliot licked his lips slowly. "Look at that thing. Thick as my wrist. We're definitely joining this party."
Grayson nodded, already tugging at his shirt. "Theo, you greedy bastard. Sharing is caring."
Theo didn't protest. His pout twisted into a sly smile as he reached down to stroke Kota's thigh. The three of them—Elliot, Grayson, and Theo—loomed hungrily over him, bodies pressing closer, the air thick with anticipation and the promise of more.
Fuck.