Page 47 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)

Cortez curls around me, as if he’s too scared to look, holding on tightly and nuzzling the side of my neck. A bashful Cort makes my cock pound insanely hard. I love how he’s coming to me for comfort and guidance, making me feel like a manly man.

I don’t want to think of Katya right now, but she’s always haunting the edge of my thoughts. If she’d given me a nanosecond of this type of attention, I would’ve never let her go. Pride got in our way– Katya’s pride in always having to be strong, and my pride in always having to be the strongest. Cortez is perfectly fine with me taking the lead. His dick makes him a man, and that’s good enough for him.

“Aww,” Dalton purrs in a thick French accent that has Cortez quivering in my arms. “He’s scared.”

Whitt’s pupils eclipse those crystalline irises, making his eyes appear as black as midnight. With a hungry expression, he gazes down at my future husband, a world of possibilities shining out. Subconsciously rubbing his bulge, I’ve never seen Whitt look so animalistic.

Dalton has more self-control, because he’s not being driven by history. Otherworldly eyes keep flicking between the man trembling in my arms, his severely aroused partner, and me… and that zipper is now halfway open, with the button of his jeans threatening to pop off.

Cortez is safe, completely placing his trust in us, not realizing he’s on the verge of being devoured.

The living room is being doused in pheromones from three extremely strong dominants– Dalton is a self-admitted switch, just because he’s a masochist and someone has to top him –and a submissive, because there is no mistaking Cortez for anything other than that, Master of Restraint status or not.

Marcus and I had forced Cort into BDSM in hopes it would help him conquer the past and give him a burst of self-confidence. The only thing it gave Cortez was an unlimited supply of waiting and willing pussy. We finally had to tell everyone that Master Cortez was a switch, which was a total bullshit lie.

The only time Cortez is dominant is when I tell him to fuck me, but even then, he’s doing it to please me, which makes it a submissive act. Not that I mind. I love the fact that Cortez is mine in all ways.

“Are we playing with them?” I breathe into Cort’s ear. “If it’s yes, do you want me to tell you what to do, so it’s easier on your conscience? But I have to see that your eyes are clear, or we go home.”

Nuzzling deeper into my neck, Cortez peppers kisses on my skin, making hungry little noises that drive me batshit crazy with want. Fingertips biting into my back as he holds me tightly, Cort desperately whispers into my ear.

“If that zipper gets any lower, I’m gonna faint. But if it doesn’t, I’m gonna die. My God, I can already see Dalton’s cock eyeing me.”

Choking on silent laughter, I gaze up to Dalton and Whitt, only to discover they don’t find what Cortez said funny. Dalton whips his black t-shirt over his head, and my laughter immediately dries up to turn to labored breath.

“Holy fuck!” A sharp hiss of pain escapes my lips, pain because my cock feels as if it’s on the verge of bursting its seams.

Shyness forgotten, Cortez sneaks a peek, then releases a sound I’ve never heard before– deep, low, not a groan or a growl.

Hunger.

“Like holy fuck, why won’t they let me train with them?” Anger and amazement war in my tone. “You finally look like a goddamn man!”

When I first met Dalton, he was only twenty and beyond emaciated. For years after, I watched him waste away, as I begged him to come talk to me. Over the last year, I’ve counseled Dalton for his past torments, while helping him come to terms with being in a committed gay relationship.

Whitt has apparently helped Dalton hurdle his food issues, while Wil has helped him deal with his body image issues. It’s a breathtaking and awe-inspiring transformation.

I’ve watched Dalton change from a wounded boy into a physically strong, willfully powerful, mentally fortified, fully grown, gorgeous man.

“No way in hell am I taking my shirt off,” Cort mutters while leaning forward, examining the perfect grooves cutting Dalton’s torso. “I want to lick your abs,” is said without shame and filled with intense longing. Cort runs his fingertips along the waist of Dalton’s skinny jeans.

Skin beading with gooseflesh in the wake of Cort’s fingertips, Dalton speaks to distract himself. “Caleb is literally a drill sergeant. I either train, or he comes in here to drag my ass out of bed, which really pisses Whitt off.” Dalton shrugs, like it’s no big deal that I’ve never seen such a sight in my entire life.

It’s a big fucking deal to look like the images flashing across Facebook pages, wetting panties and making cocks grow thick. I ought to know, because Cort and I play spank bank before bed, by adding naughty pics to the Facebook group we created.

M&M of Restraint Facebook Group .

Dalton is standing before us in the lean, muscular-cut, inked masterpiece he calls flesh, like he walked straight out of our computer screen and demanded we suck his forearm-sized cock.

“Don’t feel self-conscious, Cort.” Whitt begins unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing the tight white t-shirt that lies beneath. “I’m skinny and don’t have a six-pack. But I don’t care as long as Dalton doesn’t care. I get to enjoy him whenever I want,” he purrs, flashing an impressive set of dimples.

Not wanting to upset Cortez, I leave my shirt on too, since we aren’t the ones being played with tonight, or so I tell myself that’s the reason. Dalton even makes me feel self-conscious, and I do have a nice stomach.

I’m befriending those training bastards if it’s the last thing I do. I need a bro membership.

“This is wondrous,” is a dreamy murmur as Cort outlines a tattoo of a fierce dragon riding Dalton’s hip. For the rest of my days, I will never make fun of skinny jeans again. Those low-riding bastards will star in my fantasies forever. “Your skills have improved.” Cort whispers in appreciation as he looks up at Whitt.

“Thanks.” Whitt gruffly speaks, as his fingers curl into fists. By the way his blue eyes are bugging out of his skull, Whitt’s dying to stroke Cort’s hair as the man drools all over Dalton.

Silently chuckling to myself, I lean back on the sofa. I love how Cortez has no idea the affect he has on both the male and female population. Not only is it sweet and cute, it makes me want him all the more. Before us is a man who could grace any music album cover, and we’re all concentrating on Cortez, as he openly gawks at Dalton and Whitt.

I could become upset, but I acknowledge how I’m nothing but old news, since they’ve all fucked me before. For once, I turn selfless, truly doing this for Cortez. I love nothing more than watching him explore.

“Take the t-shirt off.” In a husky tone loaded with lust, Cort grows the balls to order Whitt around, who practically tears the fabric from his own back, quickly trying to comply. “You guys make me feel like a PedoBear– you don’t have any hair on you.”

“By the time you were twenty-five, you’d been screwing for twelve years. I think it’s safe to say we’re old enough,” Whitt sarcastically mutters, then flashes us an evil grin. “It’s called hair wax.” He schools us in the finer points of manscaping. “I like a hair-free canvas when I work, so I have to wax or Dalton refuses.”

“Oh!” is a breathy exclamation from Cort’s parted lips.

“In case you’re wondering,” Whitt drawls out as he slowly undoes his belt, then the top button of his chinos follows. “There isn’t a hair on us anywhere.” Dropping trou, eight proud, curved inches practically slaps Cortez in the face.

Taking a huge gulp of air, Cort can’t take his eyes away from the sight before him. “Everywhere… not a hair anywhere.”

I know exactly what Cortez is thinking. I’m not as obsessed with oral as he is, but even I want to know what those hairless balls would feel like bobbing around inside my mouth.

Hand extended in the air, it takes Cort a second to realize it’s Whitt’s dick he’s reaching toward. Much to Whitt’s disappointment, Cort figures it out before he makes contact. Dalton reaches over to puts a palm to Whitt’s chest, before the man tries to push his luck by nudging his cock into Cort’s hand.

“Not yet.” Dalton cautions his overly excited partner. “Don’t ruin this,” he mock-whispers, knowing we can hear him. “No freaking Cortez out, or our playmates might not come over for seconds… and hopefully it will be the main course.”

“We can hear you, ya know?” All snark, Cort chuckles. “Just so we’re clear, oral is the appetizer, so the main course is sex. What the hell is dessert?”

“There are four of us, you know?” Whitt gruffly coughs, throat dry from whatever fantasy is playing out in that gorgeous mind of his. “Ah… you can do a lot with four cocks, and I only trust you guys enough to discover all the pleasures. Let’s just say when I whack off, it’s to visions of a daisy chain starring the four of us.”

Heart thudding out of my chest, I fear I’m about to faint from bloodloss. “Holy Christ, you can’t be serious?”

“About as serious as a Jew invoking the name of the Christian Lord and Savior.” Dalton challenges me for committing a huge no-no. Marcus would have my ass if he heard me say that.

“Separation of church and sex,” Cort mutters wryly. Then he leans forward to lick Dalton from belly button to sternum. “Christ!” the Catholic hisses at his first taste of Emo flesh.

Dropping to the arm of the sofa next to me, Whitt looks faint, yet his skin is flushed bright pink. “That is by far the sexiest shit I’ve ever seen.” Awed, Whitt cocks his head to the side to get a better look. “You doing okay? You’ve never shared Cort before.”

“More than okay,” is grumbled absentmindedly, since I’m beyond captivated by Cortez licking and tonguing the deep grooves etched across Dalton’s torso. “I’m going to start working out more– I want to be worshipped like that. I also want some tats for Cort’s tongue to follow. Can you hook me up with that?”

Just as captivated as I am, Whitt speaks to me but doesn’t look away from the live sex show happening in his living room. “I’ve waited over a decade for you to say those words to me.”

Fucked in the head as we are, a completely naked Whitt and I don’t even attempt to touch one another. We’re just entranced by the way Dalton’s small body looks with Cort’s tongue gliding along his inked flesh.

“I’m dying in anticipation,” Whitt breathes into my ear. A heartbeat later, he reaches over to pop the button on Dalton’s jeans, unleashing that monster cock.

Not the reaction I expected, Cortez busts out laughing. “Pretty Boy, bloody hell!”

Whitt and Dalton join with Cortez, as if they’re privy to some private joke I’m not. Feeling left out, I demand an explanation. “What? What’s so funny?”

Whitt reaches over to grab that mighty cock, and I swear to God, he’s giggling like a school girl. “Oh…” is a rush of pure shock. “Oh… OH! Pretty Boy. Seriously?”

Demonstrating his superior inking skills, while placing a mine stamp on his partner, Whitt has tattooed the words Pretty Boy up the shaft of Dalton’s cock in huge, stylized lettering.

“That had to have hurt like a sonofabitch.” Awe and filled with curiosity, Cort reaches to take the footlong cock from Whitt’s hand. Shuddering as he finally makes contact, Cort lovingly strokes it, while wearing the funniest facial expression I’ve ever seen. “Damn, Ez! No wonder you were sore afterward. No shit– it’s a motherfucking forearm.”

Ignoring Cort’s excited outburst, Dalton answers whether or not being tattooed on the dick hurts. “Masochist!” Dalton proudly announces while pointing at himself. “It took nine hours… and it’s a good thing I love pain.” Dalton practically convulses, all because Cortez is touching him. “And yes, Whitt’s name is on my taint. He got a bit overzealous in the claiming. Which is why I know he’s just being a douchebag when he refuses to marry me, since he let me tattoo my name around his asshole.”

Turning to Whitt, I cannot believe what I just heard. “He’s joking, right?”

“Everything is a negotiation, and sometimes you lose.” Whitt responds without a lick of shame. Eyes still glued to where Cortez’s hand is slowly stroking Dalton’s dick, I worry he’s upset. That is until I notice the longing in his gaze– Whitt wants to know what Cort’s touch would feel like too.

Dropping to his knees next to me, Whitt leans over my thighs to get at his partner. “Lick it,” he purrs, then does just that. Tongue darting out, Whitt swirls all around the tip of Dalton’s cock. “Your turns.” With the demand, a palm shoves me forward, fingers digging into my scalp. Before I can protest, a cock is pushed into my mouth. “Suck it. C’mon, Ez. Show Cort how it’s done.”

“Holy fuck,” comes garbled from around the large intrusion impaling my mouth.

So thick, I can barely fit the cock into my mouth. So long, only a quarter of it breaches my stretched lips. Salty with a tang of musk, precum explodes on my tongue. After less than ten seconds, Whitt’s fingers wrap around my hair, then yank me off that monstrous cock.

“Cort’s turn.” Whitt demands, palm shoving against the back of Cort’s skull.

“What kind of demented wedding present is this?” Saliva hangs in a string from my lips to the cockhead slipping into Cort’s very eager mouth. I watch in awe as the P and R of Pretty Boy disappear between my fiancé’s lips.

“We didn’t say it was for you, now did we?” Dalton taunts us, sounding borderline insane as he gets his dick sucked. “Payback for tormenting us during therapy, and a present for our resident cocksucker. Cort deserves the very best on the eve of his wedding night–” A guttural groan cuts off Dalton’s ability to speak, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy. Fingertips massage the back of Cort’s skull in thanks. “You’re a lucky bastard, Ez.”

“Tormenting you?” I mutter in confusion, completely offended.

“By not sharing sooner,” Whitt whispers in my ear. “You’ve been hiding Cort from us since he came out. You only wanted to see us professionally in your office. We saw you for fifteen minutes last New Year’s, then you disappeared on us by the time we got to Restraint– it’s been months of chasing your asses down.”

“Do I apologize for dropping out of our social circles, so I could get my life in order?”

Whitt ignores me. “We’re a bit frustrated. We only threw you a bachelor party to trap you in our loft. Hell, I put my brother up to the drinking game– I owe Boyd a lot for taking that elbow to the jaw. I really don’t want to do babysitting duty while he goes on vacation, but I’ll do anything to play with you guys.”

“You could have just asked,” I draw out, appalled.

“We tried, but you weren’t listening. I don’t know how many ways we brought it up during our sessions, but you were being thickheaded. At one point, I swear Dalton came right out and asked to fuck you, but you thought he was joking.”

“Actually, what I said was how I fantasize about Cort’s mouth , but Ez thought I was teasing. Obviously, I wasn’t.” Dalton struggles to speak as he slowly feeds more of that monster cock into my man’s mouth. Most of Pretty passes Cort’s lips.

With anyone else, I have the propensity to become possessive. Cortez is vibrating with arousal– the man is sweating and shivering, chest rapidly rising and falling. Cort’s fingers are wrapped around Dalton’s small hips, nails digging into the tightest ass cheeks I’ve ever seen. Working as much cock as he possibly can, Cort’s trying to get his lips to meet the crown of thorns tattoo resting just above the base of Dalton’s dick.

Curiosity has my eyes flicking south, to where Cort’s arousal is leaking through his linen trousers. Satisfied Cortez is a happy fucker, I allow my possessive nature to dissipate.

“If you manage to deep-throat all of Dalton’s length, I’ll come back for the main course and take it up the ass again.” I shock myself by offering. I hadn’t even thought the words before they spewed out my slut of a mouth.

“Fuck,” is a sharp hiss from between my clenched teeth, as Whitt’s warm palm rubs over my aching bulge. I lean back on the sofa, giving him better access, so he can rub me to his heart’s content.

“If Cort can take it all, I want him to try to suck us both off at the same time.” Whitt’s voice is tight, filled with lust and awe, as he rubs me through my pants, all the while stroking himself. “This is seriously the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

I’m concerned Cortez is suffocating himself in an effort to meet the challenge, but not too concerned to do anything about it, since he’s making those hungry noises again, signaling that he’s getting off on it.

Cort’s hips start wiggling on the sofa, as if he’s mock-humping the air. Whitt and I watch in avid fascination as Cortez does some strange shit, entertaining the hell out of us. Dalton doesn’t seem to notice the gyrations, since he’s obviously preoccupied with skull-fucking Cortez.

A garbled noise has Whitt and me leaning forward, only to gasp out in shock.

Cort did it.

Lips meeting the tattoo riding between Dalton’s hips, Cortez deep-throats a footlong cock. Seeking out the column of Cort’s throat, beneath my palm, I can almost feel that dick stretching him.

Twining his fingers into Cortez’s hair, Dalton roughly rips Cort off his dick, while wildly panting in ecstasy. Cortez roughly falls back against the sofa, causing that dick to slap Dalton’s torso with a sticky splat.

“Cort almost got me off.” Dalton struggles in gasping starts and stops, chest rapidly rising and falling. “I don’t have words to describe how that felt. I’ve never… never been sucked off, not like that. Never all the way down. Hell, only the top third ever gets sucked. I had to stop Cort, because there was no way he wouldn’t have choked.”

Writhing on the sofa next to me, Cortez is near hyperventilation. I reach over to check on him, placing a calming hand on his chest.

“Ugh!” is a grunt of pure shock as Cort’s lips attack mine. Alligator rolling me over until I’m beneath him, Cort grinds on me, sucking at my bottom lip, all the while trying to regain his breath. Stunned, I just let Cort ride me, while tasting Dalton’s bitterness on his lips.

“One more second, and I would’ve creamed my pants. It was pouring out of me without an orgasm as it was.” Cort breathlessly admits as he crawls off me, palms framing the saturated front of his trousers. “Best wedding present ever!” He flashes me a grin, face flushed with a natural high.

Yanking Cortez back down to me, I kiss the hell out of him, devouring his lips while capturing his tongue within my mouth. I rhythmically suck it, adding a piercing bite that has me begging for release. My fingers relentlessly grip his ass, grinding us together.

“If they start having sex, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.” Dalton warns, but I only half-hear him, since I’m gnawing at Cort’s throat. Sure as fuck, he’ll have hickeys all over his neck, which will piss Ava off, since I promised to leave Cort’s neck alone for the wedding photos.

“Curiosity.” Whitt purrs. “What exactly won’t we be holding you accountable for?”

“Cort’s ass is wiggling around, taunting me.” Dalton warns, and must be Cort is paying attention, because he abruptly sits up and sits on said ass.

“Nope.” Cort’s voice quivers with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I’ll suck a cock that big, but ain’t no way in hell that forearm is fitting inside my innocent asshole.”

“I’m sure it would if we tried.” Dalton pouts as he stands six inches from us, while stroking his cock as a silent warning. I’ve had that dick stretch me to maximum capacity, so I understand the underlying menace.

“Doubtful, actually.” I come to Cort’s defense. “He’s… ah… smaller back there than a female virgin– so don’t even try it. I love it snug, don’t want your mammoth cock stretching him out.”

“Appetizers.” Whitt reminds everyone. “That is a conversation best saved for a later date. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Not following the rules Cortez set, Whitt palms the back of Cort’s head, then shoves his cock in Cort’s mouth. Not protesting as I thought he would, Cortez eagerly opens up and starts sucking like a fiend.

“Just needed Ezra to warm Cort up for me.” Whitt purrs while trying to slow Cort’s onslaught. “This is for me, stud. Let’s not devour me. I like a normal blowjob, slow and lots of saliva, because I don’t want to come too soon.”

Following direction like a proper submissive, Cortez slows down and starts kissing and licking at Whitt’s thighs and hips. He purposefully avoids the purple and throbbing for release eight inches begging for his attention.

Into it so much, Cort flows from the sofa to kneel on the hardwood floor, as he worships at Whitt’s flesh. No longer caring how this man was once the boy we watched grow up. Not caring at all, judging by the sounds Cort makes as he sucks love bites on Whitt’s pink flesh.

Shorter but not smaller, Dalton spoons Whitt’s back, then pushes his length between the man’s thighs. Almost half of Dalton’s cock protrudes from beneath Whitt’s balls, making it impossible for Cortez not to try to suck them as one.

Wanting a better view, I fall to my knees beside Cortez. Utterly fascinated, I watch as he struggles to get as much of Whitt into his mouth, attempting to suck the tip of Dalton’s cock in too. When it doesn’t work, Cort tries to move them around, making us all laugh at his frustration. But this is Cortez, and he has the biggest dick and the most perfect cock he’s ever seen before him– he’s going to succeed, even if it kills him.

“Holy fuck!” Dalton grunts as Whitt starts to writhe in his arms. “Cort did it.”

Beside me, thrumming with lust, Cortez has two cockheads lodged into his mouth. He only successfully takes in about two inches, but it’s enough to satisfy his twisted urges. Hungry noises spill from Cort’s lips, both hands stroking their cocks at the base to add to the pleasure.

Many hands grab at my hair, trying to push me forward to join the fray. But it’s Cort’s fingers I finally yield to. Cort kisses me, then licks my tongue to deliver their taste, wordlessly inviting me to join him in the feast.

As partners, we lick and kiss and suck and bite at the two young men who are barely standing because of the pleasure we offer them.

Sucking at Whitt’s smooth, hairless balls, I stroke Dalton’s cock. Cort does just the opposite, with Dalton’s heavy sack hidden within the depths of his mouth, and Whitt’s dick is being pumped in his fist. I marvel at the velvety texture rolling in my mouth, but it’s not as soft as the flesh covering the hard shaft I’m stroking.

Shouts ring out as scorching fluid speckles our cheeks, lips, and even in our hair. We don’t stop our hedonism until every drop has been spilled and the men are begging for our mercy.

Dalton and Whitt fall to the sofa, exhausted, panting, and nearly crying out in shock. Cort and I stay on our knees, eyes wide in wonder. I’m pretty sure Cort breathed the words Holy Shit!

“If they don’t want the main course next time, we should at least give them the appetizer.” Whitt speaks to Dalton as if we aren’t here, as if they’re having a private conversation in bed after an exhausting romp.

“They gave us a money shot, the least we can do is return the favor,” Dalton breathlessly gasps.

Cortez and I lock gazes. Eyes glazed and mystified, we mutter at the same time. “Best. Wedding present. Ever.”