“How’s his mouth, man?” the Rock look-alike asks.

“Fuckin’ incredible.”

Rowan watches his technique. Watches him bob his head and relax his jaw and stick out his tongue and flick his fingers over the head each time he pulls off to take a gasping breath when breathing through his nose isn’t enough. Watches him savor every moment of having a dick in his mouth. Like a goddamn porn star or something.

It’s gotta be good with the groans pouring out of Van Damme’s mouth. With how quickly he pulls off with a slap to Malcolm’s cheek and the next man takes his place. And Malcolm doesn’t bat an eye at each new cock presented to him, taking in each as greedily as the one before it until he’s blown most of the group. His jaw must ache, ’cause fuck, Rowan knows his does after a while, after just one dick, but Malcolm’s that good, apparently.

Rowan’s achingly hard. His hand isn’t enough. Not when there’s a very willing mouth a couple feet away that’s all warmed up.

He steps up next to the guy with the skinny legs, whose head is thrown back while Malcolm works him over. Feeling Rowan approach, he grins, grips Malcolm’s hair and tugs him off, cock slipping out with a lewd pop.

“Almost fuckin’ came, dude,” he says, clamping a hand around the base of his dick. “Can’t wait to try his other hole.”

Rowan doesn’t respond, simply runs his fingers through Malcolm’s mussed hair—soft soft soft—to get him to open his eyes. When he does, Rowan could laugh at how they widen as he takes in the sight before him. As a redhead with matching pubes and a big dick, he’s used to it, but it never fails to kick up his heart rate a notch. Malcolm’s head snaps up to gape at him.

“That answer your question?” Rowan asks teasingly.

The only response he gets is a breathy, low “Fuuuck” before Malcolm wraps his hand around Rowan’s shaft, small hands not able to wrap fully around the widest part of him—fuck, why is that so hot?—and dips his head underneath, eyes closed. Rowan’s cock spans his entire face—fuck, why is that so hot?—and he lets out a long groan.

Definitely a size queen.

God, even though it’s obvious from the fact that he’s blown so many people already, the knowledge that Malcolm is this much of a cock slut makes Rowan impossibly harder. Malcolm tongues at the base, hot breath sending a shiver down Rowan’s spine before he pulls back and sucks him more than halfway down.

“Nnnng, shit,” Rowan gasps.

His brain is stuck in a mantra of hot wet tight hot wet tight as Malcolm works him over, tongue laving around his head and along the veins in his shaft like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and can’t get enough of. And when he finally starts bobbing his head in earnest, lips pulled tight and tongue flattening out beneath, it’s heavenly. His fingers, slick from his own spit and the precome from a half dozen other men, wrap perfectly around Rowan’s dick, and he pumps Rowan in time with the motion of his head.