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" Just One More "Written By: Presser Pairings : 4x everyone Disclaimer : Gundam Wing characters aren't mine Rating : NC 17 Warnings : PWP, super lemon (a grapefruit), all in fun though Feedback : yes please! Had to get some smut out after all that romance
in "Here's to Us," plus Sol made me! *thrppt*
"Just One More" Part 1 “How many now?” Walker stood to one side of the room chatting with Lieutenant Zechs Merquise. Pillows of every shape and size covered the floor, multicolored squares jumbled together. In the center of them was Quatre Winner, Gundam pilot, on his knees, his ass high in the air. His pants were down to his ankles, as were his bikini briefs. Someone had taken his shirt off, so he was all but naked. His upper body slumped forward, arms askew, shoulders on the floor. His face was to one side; saliva trickled from his open mouth. His eyes were half-lidded. Soft moans, some of pleasure, some of pain, came from a throat raw with shouting. “I think Otto will be number fifteen. That is, if you count each of Maxwell’s times, and the two Trowa gave him.” “Maxwell had him three times, so that means he’s had twelve partners tonight, once Otto takes him.” Zechs snorted. “You call them partners? Hardly.” “Well, then, he’s been mounted twelve times. Does that sound better?” “More like it.” The Lightning Count took another pull on his scotch and water. Quatre turned his head and called for water. “What made him want this, anyway?” “Something about a bet with Maxwell. They’re both sex hogs, you know. Maxwell has long boasted about his sexual prowess, and I think Winner has been sick of it for some time now. As I heard the story, Winner challenged him to a competition, and Maxwell readily agreed.” “How many partners?” “Actually, I think Maxwell’s exact words were, ‘I can take it in the ass more than you can, Winner.’” “So do you count the multiples or not?” “I’m thinking not, since Maxwell’s mounted him three times tonight.” “Right,” Walker said. “So…” “How’d Maxwell do it? Well, before you got here -- when things got going -- Maxwell insisted on the honor of doing him first. Then he sat back and watched -- he gets off on that, you know -- and took him twice more, with about three or four other guys in-between times.” Quatre’s eyes closed, and Duo Maxwell hooted from his seat against the wall, propped up by pillows. “Keep ‘em open, buddy, or the game’s over!” Catcalls from the others in the room were loud and long. Walker nodded as Otto passed them and stood behind Quatre. He loosened his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor, then kneeled. He rubbed his thick cock against Quatre’s abused anus, slicking the tip on the cum drooling there from previous poundings. He quickly gathered some of the cum in his hands and stroked himself with it, then positioned himself at Quatre’s entrance and pushed, easily sliding into the stretched opening. “So what’s Maxwell all about over there?” Walker nodded his head in Duo’s direction. “He and Winner have very few rules,” Zechs said. “Really the only thing is that you can’t pass out. No sex if you’re unconscious counts. That and the multiple times thing. Duo can do Winner seven times tonight, and it still only counts as one.” Both men watched as Otto pumped in and out of Quatre with increasing speed. Quatre’s shoulders scooted back and forth as the Sandrock pilot worked to keep his eyes open. “So how long’s Winner been going at it?” “Since nine p.m., I think.” Zechs looked at his watch. “Been a little more than four hours now.” Otto finished his work and stood, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “Damn good cunt, if you ask me,” he said as he pulled up his pants and walked off. “You had a turn yet?” Walker looked directly into Zech’s eyes. “Not yet, but it looks like I’d better get in line if I want to count on the tally. Our boy doesn’t appear to be able to take much more.” “You think he’s enjoying this, at this point?” “Oh, absolutely. Winner’s a real nymphomaniac.” Heero Yuy stepped up to take Otto’s place, his signature scowl softening as he looked at the soft ass awaiting him. He dropped his pants and rubbed his cock through the nylon boxers he wore before peeling them down slowly. Gasps around the room were heard as his length was revealed. “Shit, Zechs! I don’t care how stretched Winner is, that’s -- that's huge!” “Exactly why Maxwell keeps Yuy to himself. He /is/ quite a specimen, isn’t he?” Zechs smiled to see Walker’s jaw drop. “Shit!” “Just watch what he does!” Heero knelt, put his hands on Quatre’s ass, and spread his cheeks apart. He shoved his cock forward until it was between Quatre’s legs, then pushed the little boy’s cheeks together, trapping his cock between cum-slicked thighs. Heero pulled backwards with his hips, wetting his cock with Otto’s cum as his cock slid between Quatre’s legs. “Is that you, Heero?” Quattre mumbled. “Yes, Quatre, it’s me.” “Be gentle, would y--" Quatre’s words were cut off by Heero’s forceful entry into his cum-soaked channel. Heero began pounding the boy without mercy, causing him to slide forward. Two of the other men in the room moved to help brace Quatre, keeping him in a kneeling position. “Fuck, Zechs!” “It /is/ glorious to watch, isn’t it?” “You’ve seen this before?” “Maxwell and Yuy have me to dinner every now and then, and one night a couple of months ago they got a little drunk, and asked me if I’d like to see something.” Zechs paused for effect. “It was something, I’ll tell you that.” “You watched them have sex?” Walker’s eyes widened. “Three times that night. The pair is insatiable.” Zechs smiled and took another sip of his scotch and water. “So who hasn’t done him tonight?” “Wufei’s next, unless he calls for Trowa. Trowa made him promise that he’d get to be last, since he’s Quatre’s lover.” “Seems only fair to me.” Heero came hard, filling Quatre yet again with cum. Those on the side could see the cum ooze out of Quatre’s ass and back onto Heero’s balls. Heero’s thighs trembled a little as he held still, feeling the moment for as long as he could. He stood and pulled his pants up, then walked off with a smirk on his face. “Quare? Love?” Trowa went up to Quatre to check on him. He put one hand on Quatre’s face, stroking him softly. “You okay? You ready for me now?” Quatre blinked and closed his mouth. He turned his head as though he was getting his bearings, then looked up into Trowa’s eyes. “You okay love?” “Yeah, lover, I am. Tired, but I can still go.” “You don’t have to, you know. I can’t see how Maxwell can ever go as many as you have tonight. It’s been almost five hours. Don’t you want to stop?” “I’m not gonna let him win,” Quatre said, his lower lip jutting out. “I can -- I can --" the boy yawned. “Just one more, love, then I’ll call for you.” Trowa backed away, concern on his face, and motioned for Wufei to take his place behind Quatre. Zechs winked at Walker and went to refill his glass. TBC?
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