The guy currently fucking him changes position so he’s almost planking above Malcolm, and drives his full body weight onto him with each thrust, the slap of skin loud and sharp as a whipcrack.

“Now that’s more like it,” someone says.

“Look at that fucking ass jiggle,” someone else calls out.

Malcolm’s eyes are closed as he blows Rowan, but Rowan can tell from the way they’re squeezed tight that Malcolm’s enjoying himself. Though with his response to the first two guys who fucked him compared to when he’d taken Rowan’s dick in his mouth the first time, it’s hard to tell what he’s getting off on more right now.

Like the first two, the third guy is quick to climax. With a whine, he pulls out and erupts onto Malcolm’s raised ass, several streaks of come dripping down his cheeks.

Should’ve fucked it back into him, Rowan thinks.

Malcolm pulls off Rowan’s dick, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he says, “Christ, anyone here actually know how to find a fuckin’ prostate?”

Rowan winces. Because it isn’t hard. Easier with fingers than a dick and easier when you get to know your partner better, but still absolutely doable. And isn’t the point of a gangbang to please the bottom? Either everyone here is selfish and sucks at fucking, or Malcolm really is as hard to please as everyone thinks.

He steps down from the bed and circles around to the side to watch. The Van Damme look-alike offers to jerk Rowan off, and he lets him. He’s the least attractive of the bunch to Rowan, but a hand’s a hand. He turns down his offer to make out.

While he’s getting jerked off, Rowan watches as each person takes turns fucking Malcolm. And Malcolm complains about or taunts every one of them.

Shirley Temple is next, fucking him lazily in missionary like he’s too afraid of hurting him.

“I remember my first time too,” Malcolm coos derisively.

The white Tweedle is next, fucking him doggy style. He keeps too loose a grip on Malcolm’s hips and doesn’t get enough power to pull him back hard enough on each thrust.

“Thought I’d at least have a coupl’a bruises tonight.”

Van Damme steps up after, having made his way around the circle sloppily making out with or jerking off most of the other members, and he fucks Malcolm on their sides, back to chest. Not the best position to be in for any kind of power fucking. With all the bravado he’d shown earlier, Rowan expected something impressive. But his fucking skills seem to be on par with his hand job skills—not all that great.

“Always been more of a Seagal fan, anyway,” Malcolm grumbles.

Van Damme is replaced by the frat boy, who struggles to keep up a steady rhythm as he takes Malcolm over the side of the bed.

“Not as easy as Fifty Shades makes it look, huh, Leg Day?”