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Robby’s bachelor pad was simple. A couch that was surprisingly comfortable. A bed, that was perfect for jerking off in. Which— Whitaker was currently doing.
Fuck.
He knows he shouldn’t do this. But, God, was it so… amazing.
—
Abbot comes over to help Whitaker with stuff sometimes. Like cooking food—Jack was great at cooking.
Whit hadn’t noticed, but he had been moaning both Robby’s and Jack’s name.
“F-fuck, Abbot… Robby…”
He also hadn’t noticed that someone was watching him. No, not Robby. He was still away. He comes home in two weeks.
“Mph… Kid…” Jacks voice carried through the room.
Just as Whit was there, coming, his eyes flew open. Taking a moment to refocus. Then, Abbot stood there. Semen spilling into Dennis’s palm.
Whit staggered, “Uh— A-Abbot-!”
Jack stood there. Palming himself. His arousal evident, straining against the restraint of his jeans.