It was Caleb's favorite scene.
As man after man took his turn -- the beauty screaming obscenities and demanding more -- Caleb slid his hand higher on Joey's leg. He slipped his fingers to the inside of his thigh, brushing his fingertips along the seam of Joey's jeans. This time Joey didn't tense. This time, Caleb heard him release a long low hiss. Caleb didn't look; he didn't move. He couldn't be certain yet, but he felt like a breakthrough had been made. The next move would have to be Joey's.
The tape rolled on.
A tattooed college boy tumbled into bed with his best friend; a flushed blonde had her boyfriend's head between her legs while he was fucked from behind. Caleb kept his hand still, nestled inside Joey's thigh. When Joey moved -- lifted his free arm, not pinned by Caleb's body -- Caleb held his breath. Maybe Joey would do nothing; maybe he'd reach over and remove Caleb's hand.
Caleb felt Joey's fingers wrap around his wrist; he thought he could feel Joey's pulse through the pads of his fingertips. Maybe he was only feeling his own pulse quickening. Joey lifted his hand and drew it closer to his own body. Joey said nothing, the only sounds Caleb heard was his own loud breath and the moans coming from the TV. Then Joey paused, holding Caleb's hand midair above his lap; he seemed to hesitate. Caleb wanted desperately to look over and see what Joey's face could tell him, but he didn't turn his head. He wouldn't -- it could break the spell. Then Joey was moving his hand again, pushing it down. He pressed Caleb's palm to the bulge in his pants. Caleb grinned.
Joey hissed as Caleb squeezed and then rubbed. The tape rolled on. A woman in thigh-high black vinyl boots stalked around her two male slaves, jerking each other off for her viewing pleasure. A tall man used a vibrator on that same red-haired beauty from earlier in the tape -- he begged just as loudly as before, sprawled across a white-covered bed. Caleb had shifted to his knees before Joey. Joey had his eyes closed; his chest was heaving. So, he didn't want to watch; Caleb could deal with that. He didn't doubt Joey's acquiescence now. Certainly not when he raised his hips, yearning for more of Caleb's lips against his covered cock. Certainly not when Caleb thought he heard the soft exhale of his name when he drew down the zipper of Joey's jeans and pushed his hand inside.
It was all too easy, slipping his fingers around Joey's cock, drawing it out, stroking it and watching Joey gasp. It was natural and wonderful and exciting to take Joey into his mouth, to draw up on it, sucking hard. Joey's fingers fisted in his hair -- it hurt, but it felt good. Caleb gripped Joey's thighs, feeling the taunt muscle underneath. Joey could hurt him, kill him -- he had that kind of power and ability. Instead, he was letting him suck his cock. It was fucking exciting as hell.
Joey groaned, his fingers flexing, releasing and tightening, against Caleb's scalp. Caleb slid one hand between Joey's legs and pressed against his covered balls. Joey gasped again and so did Caleb when Joey's fingers really tightened in his hair. Now /that/ fucking hurt. However, Caleb didn't stop. He continued to massage, continued to suck, continued to edge Joey closer and closer to climax. Oh, how he wanted to hear him. He wished he could see him, but to look up would break his rhythm and Joey was so very close. Caleb could feel it.
Another groan preceded the arch of Joey's hips, pushing his cock against the back of Caleb's throat. Caleb coughed, but relaxed, taking Joey down as he came. Joey gasped and whimpered a little -- Caleb liked the sound of it. He liked the feel of Joey's fingers still in his hair. Caleb was grinning as he let Joey's softening cock slip from his lips. He was fucking hard himself, his dick pressing against his pants. Panting, Caleb looked up at Joey. He'd laid his head against the back of the couch; he still had his eyes closed. Caleb licked his lips, his hands squeezing Joey's thighs. He could hear the static roaring from the TV -- the tape had ended.
"Well, or we could do that."