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The warm summer air floats through the open patio door and into the living room where Shane and Ilya are tangled on the couch, Shane with his glasses on and reading a book while Ilya lays on his chest and lightly snores. Anya has also joined them, curled up with her snout on Ilya’s calves, her snoring sounding eerily similar to her papa’s.
Shane and Ilya are enjoying their first week after the season ends. It’s mid-June, and the Centaurs made it to the Eastern Conference Finals, but ultimately fell in game 7 against the New Jersey Devils. It was a hard-fought series with an impressive performance from not only Ilya and Shane. Coach Wiebe put it best when he said that everyone on the team shined.
“Hazy, an absolute brick wall each and every game.”
“Luca, the penalty kill is unstoppable with you on the ice.”
“Bood, 3 shorties in one series is more than I’ve seen in my whole career.”
“Dykstra, how your body is not battered after all the shots you’ve blocked is miraculous. You are a soldier.”
Wiebe went around the entire locker room and let each and every player on the roster know how they played throughout not only the ECF, but the entire playoff stretch. He was clearly so proud of his team and not at all disappointed at just falling short of the Stanley Cup Finals.
His eyes finally landed on Ilya and Shane.
“Shane, a franchise record in assists in the playoffs. That is no small feat. You made the plays happen. You set up the goals. Nearly each one, you had a hand in it. That is incredible. That is superstardom.”
Shane smiled and quietly muttered “thank you, Coach” as Wiebe turned his focus to Ilya.
“And Rozanov, you epitomize Captain. You lead this team to greatness every day. Every practice, every game. On and off the ice. You are the best leader this group could ask for. And you lead this team to this point. You are the Centaurs. I speak for everyone when I say that you are the best captain in the history of the NHL.”
For maybe the first time in his adult life, Ilya was made speechless by someone who wasn’t Shane. He fought the tears welling in his eyes, smiled at Wiebe, and grabbed Shane’s hand. Shane would never say a thing to his husband, but there was a tint of red to Ilya’s cheeks. Russians definitely do blush.
So instead of feeling defeated, the entire Centaurs roster left the locker room in New Jersey feeling proud. Satisfied. Accomplished. They did one last team huddle (which was really just a big group hug), packed their stuff, and hopped on the plane back home to get their summer started.
So, in this first week of freedom, Shane and Ilya were enjoying their summer, being carefree and as laid back as they wanted to be as they got ready and packed up the house in Ottawa to spend the rest of the summer at the cottage. There was no feeling of disappointment in falling just short. There was a quiet joy and satisfaction and, Ilya thought to himself, a bit of a selfish gratitude that they could be enjoying the offseason a couple days early.
Ilya snapped his eyes awake as Shane’s phone started buzzing on the coffee table. Shane put his book down on his chest and reached over as carefully as possible as to not disturb Ilya, but it was too late. Ilya groaned and started sitting up as he caught a glimpse of the caller ID displaying “Rose”.
“Sorry, I’ll go take this in the other room so you can go back to sleep.” Shane said as he started to rise, Ilya lazily lifting his torso up so that Shane could move.
“Is fine. I see my nap is less important than Rose Landry.” Ilya grunted as he grabbed the throw pillow, now warm from Shane’s back, and buried his face in it, an attempt to replace the cushiony muscle of Shane’s chest.
Shane was halfway down the hallway by that point and Ilya could hear a distant “Hi babe!” from Rose as Shane accepted the FaceTime. He groaned again, groggy and not fully absorbing the world around him, as his eyes started to involuntarily shut again. Anya let out a dramatic sigh at the disturbance and they both went back to snoozing.
Ilya opened his eyes an hour later and saw Shane sitting at the island in the kitchen. He found himself even groggier than before and needed a moment to remember who he was and where in the world he was at that moment. After coming to, he walked over to Shane, who was on his computer.
“Good morning, moy pomidor. What are you doing?” Ilya creeped up behind Shane and wrapped his arms around him.
“Good afternoon, actually. It’s 4:30,” Shane said, turning slightly towards his husband. “It’s a boring Wednesday night. Let’s do something before we leave the city for the summer.”
Ilya glanced at the computer, seeing the Google Maps search Shane has up of downtown Ottawa. “Dinner?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. There’s a reservation at La Lune we can get for 7pm. Or, my mom can pull some strings to get us into Regal. She pulled some strings with Rolex swag back in the day for the owner, and he owes her.”
Regal was one of the swankiest, most expensive restaurants in Ottawa. Ilya’s eyes lit up at the idea of eating at such a nice place. He would get to dress up. Shane, too.
“That. Let’s do that.” Ilya nodded and gave his husband a peck on the cheek.
“I’ll call my mom. But that’s… dinner is not all I was thinking.” Shane looked at the ground and Ilya stepped away.
“Hm, yes? What else?”
“I don’t know, I - I guess I’m still feeling competitive. From the season.” Shane still stared at the floor.
“What are you hinting at?”
“Would you… would you want to make a bet?”
“Sure, I can make bet. What, that New Jersey wins the Cup? It would be good, I do not want to lose to the losers.” Ilya smirked.
“No. Not exactly…”
“Shane.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus. Fuck. I was thinking… maybe it would be fun to make a bet for dinner. Like… can I.. can I seduce you and tease you the whole dinner? Do you think you could go through the entire dinner without getting hard?”
Ilya swore his eyes bulged out of his head. The idea of Shane teasing him at possibly the nicest restaurant in the city and making a game out of it excited Ilya more than he thought it would.
Ilya put his game face on. Of COURSE he could get through a dinner without getting hard - if the stakes were good enough. “Depends. What do I get if I get through dinner and not want to ravage you in the bathrooms?”
“Saturday is our first full day at the cottage, and we have no plans. How about you call the shots from the moment we wake up? I will do literally whatever you want. No pushback. You don’t even need to ask permission. You can… use me.”
The blood rushed between Ilya’s legs. “Okay. And if you win?”
“Well, you know how I was talking to Rose earlier?” Shane was still looking away. Ilya nodded. “She needed help. She was going on a seventh date with this guy; apparently it’s going really well.”
“Shane, are you wanting threesome with Rose Landry and her new boyfriend if you win?”
“What? God damnit, no! Shut up and listen. Because it was going so well, she wanted to surprise him. She was at a lingerie boutique and wanted my help picking out something to wear for him.”
Ilya’s face was a combination of simmering jealousy (yes, even after all these years, he still felt pangs of jealousness) and confusion. “Okay.”
“I thought… I really liked helping her pick things out. And it made my mind wander.”
“Wander for Rose in lingerie.”
“Wandering about you in lingerie.”
Ilya’s face dropped. “Oh.”
“Yes. If I win, I want to pick out something for you. To wear. For me.”
Ilya gulped so loudly he was sure they could hear it down the street. Usually it was Shane dressing up for Ilya - they had never done the reverse before. The thought scared him, but also, deep down, it turned him on.
Fuck, he was really going to agree to this. “There have to be rules at dinner, Hollander. You cannot cheat. Touching my dick under the table to get me hard is cheating.”
Shane smirked and the blush that formed over his face over his proposition started to fade a little. “Of course. I will fully stay above your chest - I will not touch you below your chest. That’s pure cheating.”
“Very good. And no touching anyone else to try to get me hard.”
“That was never going to be part of the plan.”
“Good, because you are - ah - exhibitionist. Wait, plan?” Ilya stared at Shane as it registered.
“Of course. Don’t you know me? I always have a plan.”
Fuck, Ilya thought in Russian. He’s fucking going shopping.
True to her word, Yuna got the husbands in at Regal for an 8pm reservation.
“You should have heard the guy, Shane. He was raving about how he has a Rolex from Shane Hollander.” Yuna was chuckling through the phone.
“That’s really nice that you did that for him, Mom. And that you used your favor on Ilya and I.”
“Oh, sweetie, we wouldn’t use it. It’s not really your father’s scene anymore. He just wants to eat at home these days. By the way, is there something you’re celebrating? Regal isn’t just for a random Wednesday.”
The bet took over Shane’s mind and he sputtered a little. “Ah - no. I mean, yes. Celebrating a great season together. Uh - making up for lost time and all that.”
“That’s great, honey. Take pictures of the food. I hope you have a fabulous time.”
Jesus, if only she knew. Mild panic hit Shane momentarily as he thought about if the owner would catch on to their antics and report back to Yuna. But he let it go - he was too excited. He thanked his mom again and hung up.
Ilya and Shane were dressed and ready at 7:45. Ilya looked like the Greek god he was so often compared to. Though maybe not the attire appropriate for the restaurant, he wore a brown blazer with no shirt underneath, just his defined chest muscles on display and his gold cross prominent.
Shane had choked on the water he was drinking when Ilya came down the stairs. “Jesus Christ. It’s like you want to lose this bet.”
“Never. I am winner. But I do not pass up opportunity to be extremely hot and sexy in public.”
But Shane - Shane looked magnificent. He wore a white collarless button-down shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned and matching white pants. He styled his hair differently than usual, a bit more parted with a couple strands framing his face. He was gorgeous. My perfect boy, Ilya thought.
Shane put his glass in the sink and walked towards Ilya and gave him a kiss. “Let’s get going. I have been looking forward to this allllllll nighhhhtttttt.” Shane drew out the last word, hooking a finger inside the blazer and grazing his husband’s abs - the lightest touch that made Ilya feel like he was struck by lightning.
I’m doomed, Ilya thought.
After a quiet and tense - in a good way - car ride downtown, they left the car at the valet and approached the hostess stand. The hostess smiled. “Welcome, Mr. and Mr. Hollander-Rozanov, and welcome to Regal. Follow me to your table.” She guided them to the back of the restaurant, to a completely secluded corner booth. It was dark, illuminated only by some low lights and candles on the table. It was so intimate and private.
Shane smiled. One would probably call the smile he had on a “shit eating grin.”
“Enjoy your meal.” The hostess grinned at them both and stepped away. Ilya looked at his husband.
“Smile all you want, Hollander. I will win bet.”
“Okay, Ilya, no problem, then.”
Ilya was pleased to learn they had a relatively good brand of Russian vodka on the menu; he ordered it straight. Shane decided to pass on the ginger ale for this evening and joined his husband with a vodka as well, on the rocks.
“You look so fucking hot.” Shane smiled, looking Ilya up and down. “No shirt under that jacket. Jesus. I want to lick your chest.”
“Our drinks have not even arrived and you are talking drunk.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you make me drunk.”
Ilya chuckled. “Is that all you got, Hollander? I am flattered and could listen to you compliment me all day. But compliment is not direct route to my dick.”
Shane raised an eyebrow, still wearing a shit-eating grin. “I told you there was a plan, remember?”
“You cannot lick my chest in this restaurant.”
“Not part of the plan, but also not technically breaking the rules. It was anything below the chest that I couldn’t touch. Remember? So, totally fair game.”
Ilya scoffed and was saved by the server, because it really looked like Shane was about to crawl around the booth and lick Ilya’s chest. The server arrived with four glasses of vodka - 2 straight, 2 on the rocks. “The extra two are on the house. Courtesy of Mr. MacDonald. He is thrilled to have you both dining with us this evening. Enjoy your beverages.”
As the server walked away, Ilya took a sip of his first drink. “Who the fuck is Mr. MacDonald?”
Shane grabbed one of his two glasses. “The owner. The one my mom called to get us in. I think he has a crush on her.”
“Ah, not surprising. Yuna is a wonderful lady. What is the saying - a total catch.”
“I’m telling my dad you said that.”
“He would agree with me.”
“Yeah, well, he knows about total catches just like me. I bagged one too.”
“Bagged?” Ilya looked confused. “You put me in a bag with your mom? Like at grocery?”
“It’s a saying. Meaning we both married people we would call a total catch.”
“Is a dumb saying. Shane, you’re making this bet easy with your English phrases that make no sense.”
Shane laughed and Ilya swears his husband gave him a soft wink. Okay, this is going to be easier than I thought, he thought to himself as he picked out an appetizer and drank his vodka.
Halfway through an appetizer of rock shrimp and beef tartare, and both on their third vodkas, a clearly tipsy Shane excused himself to go to the bathroom. Ilya nodded and his husband got up and walked away.
Ilya started picking at the garnish that came on the rock shrimp. Why do Canadians put things on the plate that you aren’t supposed to eat? He ate it anyway out of pure spite.
He was halfway through the mystery green stuff when he felt his phone buzz. Probably Sveta. She’s in Prague this week.
Ilya’s jaw dropped.
Shanya [8:42pm]
[img3290.jpg]
Shanya [8:42pm]
Yours baby
Holy shit. Holy shit. His husband, in the bathroom, had sent him a dick pic. His half-erect cock in his hands. With the caption declaring it his. Fuck, maybe Shane DID have a plan.
Ilya [8:43pm]
Get back here. This is nice establishment.
Shanya [8:43pm]
And I am a nice boy in this nice establishment. A good boy, even.
Shanya [8:44pm]
Don’t you agree? Aren’t I a good boy?
Fuck.
Ilya put his phone away. He couldn’t entertain this if he had any chance of winning this bet. But even just step 1 of Shane’s attempt was starting to get his cock to twitch.
Shane came back a few minutes later, his cheeks a bit flush. “You know, it’s not nice to leave someone on read.”
“Nice try, Hollander. I can put my phone away easy and ignore so that I win this bet.”
“Sure, Ilya. But you can’t stop me from telling you that I got myself so close to coming in the bathroom and stopped myself so you can have it later.”
Jesus Christ. Ilya’s gaze set on Shane’s eyes; Shane’s pupils were blown and he licked his lips. “I didn’t come. Because I am a good boy. But it didn’t stop me from stroking my dick and maybe touching myself a little. Thinking about you in this jacket.”
“You did not.” Ilya’s gaze was steadfast.
“I did. But you ignored me, so you don’t get to know how many fingers I got in.”
“Such a tease, Hollander.”
“Sure am. That’s the goal, baby.” Shane smiled, smoldering and seductively. “How are you doing over there? Should I check in on you for a status update?” He looked down at Ilya’s crotch. The pants were tight enough but he couldn’t see an erection.
“That was sexy, yes. But my mind is strong. I am competitor. Your plan has failed.” Ilya said as flirtatiously as possible, hoping he conveyed that he found the entire attempt hot as fuck.
“Good thing I’m not done yet.”
Dinner finally arrived - Shane a beautiful salmon with vegetables and rice, and Ilya a steak frites, ordered rare. They were on their fourth vodka, and Shane was clearly feeling it with how giggly he was starting to get.
“This is the best salmon I’ve ever had. Almost better than sex.” Shane said, nearly done with his plate.
“Yes. Almost.”
“Well, nothing competes with sex with you, baby.”
“Hm.” Ilya took a drink from his glass and stared Shane down. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. But… I think there’s something that could make me better.”
“Oh? What would that be?”
Shane reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Ilya took his out and threw it to the end of the booth. “No more dick pics. See? Phone is far away. Do not bother sending.”
“Oh, baby, I’m not sending you a dick pic. No no. I’m doing something for me.”
Shane poked around on his phone as Ilya just about died to know what was going on. After a few taps, Shane closed his eyes, phone still in his hand.
“Shane, what are you doing? Are you sleeping?”
“No, Ilya. The opposite.”
He sat there, eyes closed for a moment, and then let out an audible purr. Finally, he looked back at the screen, tapped again, and his mouth fell open.
“Shane…” Ilya reached for the phone. Shane gave it up willingly. On the screen was a sliding meter, from 0 to 10. Shane had the meter set to 2. He was sitting across from Ilya, head against the back of the booth with his mouth dropped slightly open. “Shane.”
“Leave it at 2 for a second. It feels good with the plug starting slow like this.”
He had a remote-controlled vibrating butt plug. Ilya thought his brain was going to combust.
Shane opened his eyes momentarily to look at Ilya. He took a drink from his vodka glass that was absolutely seductive - he didn’t break eye contact with Ilya the entire time.
“Fuck, Shane.”
The bet was over. Ilya could feel it - his cock was rock hard in his pants. At this point, he didn’t even care. All he cared about was Shane and how quickly he could get his gorgeous husband to come in this elegant, beautiful restaurant.
Ilya turned the speed up to 4. Shane gasped. He was trying to keep his composure, but the combination of the butt plug and the alcohol was proving difficult. He was beginning to writhe in his seat.
In the most poorly timed moment, the server came over. “How are your meals so far?”
Shane, completely on another planet, looked at the server out of the corner of his eye. His head was still thrown back and mouth agape.
“Wonderful, thank you.” Ilya managed to choke out with urgency, hoping the server would leave. The server looked at both of them, unsure of what was happening, and smiled as he stepped away from the table.
“Fuck, Shane.” Ilya watched his husband squirming. “You are such a slut. In this very fancy restaurant.”
“I am such a slut. For you. I am your slut, Ilya.” His words were breathy and clearly required a lot of effort to get out.
“Sluts must be able to take more than a level 4, yes?” Ilya said as he turned the meter up to 6. He was being bold now, but he was so far gone that he just wanted to watch Shane try to hide what was happening.
“Fuck - FUCK - Ilya - oh my fucking god,” Shane panted. He was violently writhing now, and the whimpering was more audible. “Going to come - ‘m close…”
“No, no. You do not come until I tell you to.” Ilya abruptly hit 0 on the phone screen, and Shane whined at the loss of vibration. “You will come from my cock and not from your little slutty toy you brought to restaurant. Do you understand?”
“Yes, baby. Yes. Fuck.”
It was Ilya’s turn for a shit-eating grin. “Let’s get out of here so I can take you apart.”
Ilya waved down the server who, if he noticed anything, didn’t show it on his face. As he was paying the check, Shane glanced down at Ilya’s pants and smiled. Mission accomplished.
That Saturday morning, Ilya awoke at the cottage with Anya nestled against his back. He smiled as he looked out the windows to see the morning sun shimmering on the lake. Their first full day here. Summer in their happy place was finally starting.
He stretched, got up and put some sweatpants on to go and see what Shane was up to. Downstairs, Shane was putting on his shoes.
“Good morning, moya lyubov. Are you going for a run?” He gave Shane a kiss when he came up from tying his shoes.
“No, I have some errands to run. I’ll be back soon, though.”
Ilya heard Anya scratching at the back door to go outside. “Ok, have fun, but not too much fun, yes?” He gave his husband a wink and went to tend to their dog as Shane stepped out.
After a beautiful summer Saturday morning by the lake with coffee, Anya, and a cigarette (that Ilya makes sure is long gone before Shane gets home), Shane walks back in the house with a bunch of bags. Most of them look like groceries. Ilya gets up to help, but Shane stops him. “Thanks baby, but relax. I’ve got it. You go take a load off.”
“But I always help with groceries. I am good domesticated husband.”
Shane laughed. “Of course you are, but I’m good, I promise. Go watch TV with Anya.”
Ilya gave his husband a kiss on the cheek and went to the living room, ready for an entire day of just them in their favorite place on earth.
Ilya offered to clean up dinner since Shane handled groceries by himself. Shane thanked him, and mentioned he needed to run upstairs for a minute. Ilya watched Shane - perfect, adorable Shane - bound up the stairs as he washed the dishes.
Shane came back down about 10 minutes later and pulled out two lowball glasses and filled them with vodka. Ilya watched Shane, puzzled.
“Moya zolotaya rybka, I thought you swore off vodka after Regal the other night.”
Shane lifted an eyebrow. “Sure, the hangover was bad, but dinner was… amazing.”
“Da. My little Shanya, almost coming his pants in very nice restaurant.”
“Shut up. I just want you to know that it’s time for me to cash in on winning the bet.” Shane stated non-chalantly, handing Ilya his glass and taking a sip.
“I was hoping you would forget.”
“Absolutely not. And the deal was I could go shopping. So… I went shopping today.”
“Oh?” Ilya felt heat rising in his stomach.
“Yes. Finish your vodka. When you are done, it’s laying upstairs on the bed. Put it on and come back downstairs. I’ll be waiting.”
Shane went to the living room, sat on the couch, and picked up a magazine, vodka in hand. As he thumbed through the pages, Ilya downed his entire glass of vodka, grimacing at the volume, and made his way upstairs.
His stomach did a weird flip. Was he - Ilya Rozanov, the man once known for having a woman in every city in the United States AND Canada - nervous? Yes - he was nervous. Historically, Shane had done the dressing up for him. He wore a dress a couple times for him. A babydoll set. He let Ilya ravage him while calling him a good girl, all while Shane’s muscles protruded from the outfit. It was sexy and so much fun. But that’s been Shane’s lane. Ilya has always been the dominant one, calling the shots, making Shane feel like he's beautiful - his Jane - in the couple of instances they did this.
The role reversal was scary and Ilya didn’t know what to expect. Would he even like this?
He slowly opened the door to the bedroom, partially afraid of what he might find. As he made his way in, he saw it - laid out on the bed - Shane’s hand-picked outfit. Ilya’s eyes widened at the sight.
A red lace corset, clearly for a woman with a larger bust. The breast cups were completely see through, with only some lace flowers offering a bit of modesty. The torso of the corset had matching flowers and an intricate tie-up in the back. A matching pair of red lace panties - a g-string with a big, red bow at the top of the string in the back.
Black tights. A garter belt and clips. And heels.
This was a full, intricate outfit. Fuck, Ilya thought. Even all the women he had slept with over the years hadn’t worn something this sexy.
Ilya started undressing. Fair is fair, he thought. Even if I hate this, this is all for Shane.
Shane pretends to read the magazine from the coffee table as he anxiously waits for Ilya. He is so nervous. What if Ilya hates it? What if he finds it degrading? Or it’s something he’s not into?
What if he thinks Shane is disgusting for making him do this, and is angry?
He takes a deep breath as he skims an article about the architectural history of the Cologne Cathedral. Gorgeous, perfectly crafted, a stunning wonder of the world. Like Ilya.
He waits.
The clicking of the heels echoes through the house as Ilya makes his way downstairs. Shane puts the magazine on the coffee table, and Ilya finally enters into view where Shane is sitting at the end of the couch staring at him.
“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, Rozanov.”
Ilya moves to stand in front of Shane.
“I do not know who Rozanov is. My name is Lily.”
Shane starts trembling. Ilya is a fucking vision in red. His large pecs fill out the cups perfectly, his muscular arms a stark contrast to the shape the corset is forcing his perfectly chiseled torso into - he is so large he didn’t even need to tie the corset tightly. His tights - stretched so taught they could rip at any moment - hook onto the red garter belt like it’s clinging for dear life. And the heels give his body an extra lift that Shane didn’t even know was possible. His cock begins screaming at him.
It is also not lost on Shane how alarmingly erect Ilya is in his red lace panties. His erection is bulging at the lace, threatening to bust out at any moment.
“Lily. You are so beautiful. Do a turn for me, sweetie.”
Ilya slowly does a full circle. His ass in the g-string is too much for Shane to handle. He resists everything in his body to bury his face there and suffocate.
“So beautiful, honey. You are incredible. Tell me, baby - how do you feel?”
Ilya runs a hand through his curls. “So many names you call me.” His voice is shaking.
“Do you like them, baby?”
“Yes.” Ilya swallows loudly. “A lot.”
“Okay, Lily. Answer my question, though. How do you feel?”
“I feel -” Ilya pauses for a second. “I feel gorgeous.”
“You are gorgeous.”
“And sexy.”
“You are so fucking sexy.”
Ilya begins to paw at his cock through the panties. “And like I want to fuck my Shane while he screams and begs for Lily to make him come.”
“Fuck.” That was it for Shane. He practically leaps over to where Ilya is touching himself and gets on his knees, nuzzling the lace with his face, wanting his cock to smother him. He opens his mouth and wraps it around the lace, taking in as much bulge as he can. Ilya grab Shane’s hair and lets out a groan.
Shane looks up at his husband. “Lily, baby, I want to suck your cock but I’m not ready to lose any of this outfit just yet. So I think maybe you should trade places with me and get on your knees and suck my dick.”
“Is that suggestion or order, sir?”
“Sweetie, that’s an order.”
Ilya rips Shane upright and instead of getting on his knees, he squats so that he’s level with Shane’s cock. His high heels support him upwards and his ass sticks out so that Shane can see his round cheeks and that bright, red bow that Shane wants to put into his mouth more than anything. Ilya unbuttons Shane’s pants and pulls his pants and boxers down to his ankles. Shane’s cock is embarrassingly hard for not even being touched yet, but the sight of Ilya in the lingerie he picked out was too much to bear.
Ilya sticks out his tongue and looks up at Shane. Shane takes his cock in his hand and taps it a few times against Ilya’s outstretched tongue. “Jesus, Lily, such a pretty thing like you and you’re a total slut, huh?”
Ilya nods and shockwaves make their way through Shane’s system as Ilya takes the length of Shane in his mouth with no warmup. His head bobs back and forth, sucking and licking Shane’s dick like this is the first time he’s ever done it.
Well, maybe it is. It’s Lily’s first time.
“Fuck, Lily, baby. I’m going to come so fast if you keep sucking my cock like this. Who knew you were such a little cockslut? Although, I think your lingerie probably should have given it away.”
Ilya, still deepthroating Shane, looked up with his big blue eyes. He pulled away with a pop. “I am such a cockslut for you, Shane. I want to live with your cock in my mouth.”
“That can be arranged, babydoll.”
Ilya winced at the pet name and took Shane deep again. Shane, floating on another planet, was going to come soon if Ilya kept this up. He picked his husband up and brought him back up to standing - which was ridiculous now, because the heels added another 4 or 5 inches, so Ilya towered over him.
At the sight of the height difference, Shane practically sprung at Ilya. He wrapped his legs around Ilya’s waist and Ilya grabbed him from his thighs. They kissed deeply and passionately as Ilya began carrying Shane away.
“Shane, can I take you to the bedroom now?”
“Yes, Lily, I’m ready to get fucked by you. Such a pretty, sexy, sweet angel.”
Ilya groans and picks up the pace. At the bedroom, he sets Shane down, and Shane pushes him onto the bed.
“Baby girl, I want you to fuck me, but before we get to that, I think that every good slut likes to get eaten out.”
He flips Ilya over onto his stomach so that the corset - so tight that it looks like it’s going to give way - and g-string with the big red bow are in his face.
“Do you want that, Lily? Do you want me to eat you out like the good little slut you are?”
“Yes.” Ilya grunts. “Yes. Please.”
“You are such a pretty baby when you are begging for my tongue.”
Shane hovers over Ilya’s ass and puts the g-string into his mouth, pulling with his teeth. Ilya shouts out in surprise when Shane lets the g-string go and it slaps against his skin. “So gorgeous all wrapped up in a pretty bow for only me. My present. My Lily.”
He moves the g-string to the side and plants soft, delicate kisses all around Ilya’s ass. Ilya starts to squirm on his stomach, looking for some friction on his cock that Shane knows must be hard as a rock. When he finally reaches Ilya’s hole, he licks soft, tender circles around the rim and then finally begins to eat with gusto when Ilya whines with frustration.
Ilya begins to shout in Russian, grabbing at his curls and the pillows. He’s close already, Shane can tell. “Lily, honey, don’t come yet. I want you to come in my ass, pretty thing.”
“Fuck.” Ilya groans. “Shane - I am close -”
Shane grabs Ilya by the garter belt and flips him onto his back. “In my ass. Only. Okay? That is my only rule for such a little cockslut. You can only come inside of my ass.”
“Yes, fuck, yes Shane.” Ilya whimpers. “Can I fuck you now, please?”
“Lily, are you begging for me?”
“Yes. Please.”
Shane smiles. This role reversal is a hundred times better than he thought it would be. He takes off his shirt, lays back on the bed, and pulls Ilya on top of him. “Okay, beautiful. Get to work.”
Ilya grunts, his pupils blown. He reaches to the nightstand for the lube. As he starts drizzling on his hands, Shane looks him in the eye. “I lied. There is another rule. You have to keep this outfit on when you fuck me. I need to see you in it when you come.”
“Shane, my cock is going to rip these panties wide open.”
“That’s the hope, baby.”
Ilya’s brain factory resets for a moment, and he continues slicking up his fingers. Teasing Shane’s hole, he watches his husband involuntarily arch back into the bed. Ilya slides one finger in.
“Is okay?”
“Yes, baby. More. I can take it.”
Ilya slips a second finger in. Slowly he begins scissoring his fingers, finding the spot Shane likes. After all these years, he knows exactly where to go.
“Fuck, Lily. That’s the spot. Fuck. Another. Please.”
With the third finger in, Shane is fully writhing on the bed. “I’m ready, baby, please, please fuck me.”
Ilya’s ready too - has been since he put this outfit on in this same bedroom. He moves the lace panties to the side to finally free his cock. Ilya wonders if his cock has ever been this hard before. He slicks with a little extra lube as he finally makes his way inside Shane.
Ilya feels like a man possessed. This is like an alter ego. He has never felt so empowered, so sexy, and maybe never so turned on in his life. Lily has uncovered a newfound confidence in Ilya.
Ilya begins slowly thrusting into Shane and pushes his knees back towards his chest. “Harder - fuck - harder, Lily. I can take it.”
Ilya thrusts harder, faster. Shane is moaning so loudly now, the headboard of their bed banging loudly against the wall. Ilya feels removed from his body in pleasure.
“Lily - Lily - are you - fuck - are you going to - come for me, baby?”
“Yes,” Ilya grunts, English hard for him at this moment. “Yes, I am close, fuck, Daddy. I am going to come inside you.”
Daddy.
Shane’s eyes widen at the pet name usually reserved for Ilya. But in this moment, Shane has clearly become Daddy to Lily. That’s all Shane needs to get over the edge.
Completely untouched, Shane comes, thick ropes stringing all along his abdomen. He grabs onto Ilya’s garter belt as he comes, his hands grabbing so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Ilya chases his own orgasm and after a few thrusts, he finally comes.
Ilya collapses next to his husband, both of them panting and striving to catch their breaths.
Shane grabs Ilya’s hand. “You alright?”
Ilya squeezes. “You have killed me. I am dead.”
Shane smiles. “No, I mean it. Was that okay with you? I really wasn’t sure if that would be crossing a line.”
“I would have used safeword if so. I loved it. It felt like other side of me.”
“Lily.”
“Yes, Lily. And Lily is apparently total slut.”
Shane laughs. “For the record, Lily is the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“You are gay. You do not find girls hot.”
“I can when they’re you. And in a corset so tight you can’t even tie it.”
“Do they make this in neon green?” Ilya started playing with the straps around his shoulders.
“Uh.. maybe? Why?”
“Cause I like neon green and I want to buy one.”
Shane smirked, satisfied. “That’s a highly obnoxious color, but we can look for one. Lily would probably look great in green.”
Ilya tilts his husband’s head towards him and gives him a long kiss. “That was fun. I am glad I lost bet to you.”
Shane chases his husband’s lips. “I will make another bet with you any time. Say the word.”