Fuck words, seriously. Erik’s cock was already trying to bust out of his jeans as he stumbled towards the jetty, the air buzzing with more than just those annoying Swedish mosquitoes. Lars and Anders stood there, looking like something out of a moody painting against the ridiculously romantic twilight sky over the lake. Anders turned, and his eyes… Jesus. They practically stripped Erik naked right there on the spot. Predatory didn't even begin to cover it. Lars just fidgeted, looking like a deer caught in headlights, except this deer had a massive hard-on tenting his trousers. Kinda cute, actually.
"Couldn’t stay away? Or just hoping for a better view of the goods?" Anders purred as Erik reached them, his voice a low growl that vibrated right down to Erik’s aching balls. Anders didn’t even wait for an answer, just grabbed Erik, one hand tangling possessively in his hair, yanking his head back slightly, the other clamping onto his arse like he owned it – which, okay, maybe he fucking did for tonight. Anders’s mouth crushed Erik’s, tongue plunging deep in a kiss that screamed ‘mine’. Erik gasped into the kiss, tasting strong aquavit, Anders’s unique musk, and pure, unadulterated lust. It was rough, demanding, exactly what Erik didn’t know he needed.
Before Erik could even think about kissing back properly, let alone breathe, Lars barreled in from behind, pressing his whole body against Erik’s back, caging him. Strong arms, smelling faintly of honest sweat and sawdust, wrapped around his waist like steel bands. Erik felt Lars’s thick, hard cock pressing insistently against his lower back, right through the denim. Then Lars’s mouth was on his neck, teeth scraping (ouch, easy there, tiger!), tongue licking a hot, wet path before latching onto the sensitive skin just below his ear, sucking hard. Definitely going to leave a mark. Erik groaned, trapped between Mr. Intense-and-Knows-What-He’s-Doing and Mr. Eager-and-Slightly-Clumsy-But-Damn-He’s-Strong.
Lars spun him around abruptly, breaking Anders’s kiss only to replace it with his own – rougher, wetter, full of years of pent-up ‘oops, am I gay?’ curiosity. Lars’s tongue wasn’t exactly subtle, more like a friendly invasion, but fuck, it got the job done. Anders, clearly not one to be left out for a nanosecond, started roaming, yanking Erik’s shirt free from his jeans, fingers digging into his back muscles, thumbs finding those sensitive spots just above his arse that made his knees weak. Lars’s hands weren’t idle either, grabbing handfuls of Erik’s buttocks, big calloused fingers shamelessly trying to find his crack, pressing insistently. Okay then. Things were escalating fast.
"Way too many fucking clothes," Anders stated, his voice tight with impatience. A flurry of fumbling hands, the sound of a ripped button, and the rasping groan of zippers followed. Erik’s shirt vanished, then Anders’s, revealing a torso that looked like it was sculpted from marble. Seriously unfair. Lars, bless his heart, struggled with his belt buckle like it was a complex puzzle. "Need some help there, farmer boy?" Anders drawled, earning a glare from Lars, who finally wrestled his jeans off, revealing sturdy legs and… surprisingly plain grey boxers that were doing absolutely nothing to hide his massive erection. Anders smirked. Erik quickly shed his own jeans and shirt, his own hard-on springing free, practically vibrating with need, slick with precum already. He vaguely registered Anders wore sleek, black boxer briefs that hugged his package perfectly before they too were discarded. The cool evening air hit Erik’s bare skin. Nipples instantly hard. Game the fuck on.
Anders’s smirk widened as his eyes swept over Erik’s naked body, lingering appreciatively on his cock before settling back on Lars. "On your knees," he commanded softly, but with an edge that left no room for argument. Lars swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but obeyed instantly, sinking onto the rough wooden planks of the jetty. Anders knelt facing him, his gaze fixed intently on Lars’s cock, which was thick, impressively veined, and weeping clear drops of precum from the swollen head. Anders reached out, wrapping long, elegant fingers around the thick shaft. Lars gasped, eyes fluttering shut, head tilting back. Erik watched, fascinated, as Anders expertly stroked him, thumb swirling the glistening head, spreading the slickness around. Lars’s breath hitched; his hand shot out, gripping Anders’s shoulder like a lifeline.
Anders lowered his head, flicking his tongue experimentally over the sensitive tip like he was tasting fine wine, before taking the entire head into his mouth, sucking hard, creating a vacuum. Lars let out a strangled groan, hips bucking involuntarily off the jetty planks. "Fuck… Anders… Christ…"
Erik felt a powerful sympathetic throb in his own cock, watching them. Lars’s free hand blindly grabbed Erik’s wrist, pulling him down urgently. "Erik… fuck… help…" Lars rasped, eyes glazed, lost in sensation. Erik knelt beside Anders, heart pounding against his ribs. Mimicking Anders, he wrapped his hand around the base of Lars’s cock, feeling the heat, the thickness, the frantic pulse beneath his fingers. Lars shuddered violently, a full-body tremor.
Anders looked up, saliva shining on his chin, eyes gleaming wickedly. He shifted slightly, making room. "Get in here," he urged Erik, voice muffled around Lars’s shaft. "He tastes like summer. And pure desperation. It’s fucking hot." The sight of Anders’s mouth working so skillfully, Lars arching and groaning like that, Anders’s explicit invitation – Erik’s brain short-circuited. Inhibitions? What inhibitions? Gone. Vaporized.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips tentatively to the thick vein pulsing on the underside of Lars’s shaft, licking up a bead of salty precum. Musky, utterly male. He flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin of the frenulum, rewarded by another choked groan and a tightening death grip on his wrist. He took Lars deeper into his mouth, gagging slightly but determined, wanting to devour him, wanting to make him groan like Anders did. He sucked clumsily at first, then found a rhythm, trying to mimic Anders’s expert technique.
Anders chuckled, pulling back just enough to grab Lars’s hand and guide it towards Erik’s own painfully hard cock. "Your turn to play, Lars. Try not to break him." Lars’s calloused fingers fumbled for a second before closing around Erik’s shaft. Rough, clumsy, slightly too tight, but the sheer force, the desperate curiosity behind the touch… incredibly fucking hot. Erik gasped as Lars’s thumb found the slit at the tip, rubbing back and forth with surprising effectiveness.
Now Erik was the one arching, caught in a feedback loop of pleasure and sensation. Anders, the fucking puppet master, shifted again. His free hand joined Lars’s on Erik’s cock, slick fingers adding a whole new level of friction, making Erik whine. Then Anders’s mouth left Lars, latching onto Erik’s cock with shocking heat and expert suction. "Fuck!" Erik cried out, head thrown back. Anders definitely knew his way around a cock. Tongue swirling, throat muscles working, sucking with incredible power… holy shit.
Lars, apparently inspired, turned his full attention to Erik, kissing him again, hard and deep and sloppy, while his hand continued its relentless, slightly frantic stroking. Erik felt like he was going to short-circuit, pulled between Anders’s skilled mouth sucking him dry and Lars’s rough, enthusiastic grip threatening to rub him raw.
"Okay, playtime positions," Anders announced suddenly, pulling his mouth from Erik’s cock with a wet pop that echoed over the water. "Lars, on your back. Try to look pretty for us." Lars obeyed instantly, scrambling onto his back, stretching out, his magnificent erection pointing skyward like a salute, still dripping. Anders positioned himself between Lars’s spread legs, taking Lars’s cock deep into his mouth again, head bobbing rhythmically, cheeks hollowing with the force of his suction. He glanced back at Erik, nodding towards Lars’s chest. "Go worship your friend, Erik. Make him beg for it."
Erik crawled forward eagerly, straddling Lars’s hips, feeling Lars’s muscles tense beneath him. He leaned down, crushing his mouth against Lars’s, plunging his tongue deep, tasting their mingled spit and the lingering sweetness of the aquavit. His hands roamed Lars’s body, scraping nails lightly over his pecs, tweaking his nipples hard until Lars gasped into the kiss. Lars bucked beneath him, hands gripping Erik’s arse, fingers digging in, pulling him closer.
Anders worked tirelessly below, slurping and sucking like Lars’s cock held the secrets to the universe, occasionally looking up to give Erik a smug, challenging grin. Erik broke their kiss, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down Lars’s strong neck, biting lightly at his collarbone. He felt Anders shift, reaching up with a slick hand to grasp Erik’s still-dripping cock, beginning a slow, steady stroke in time with his sucking on Lars. "Teamwork makes the dream work," Anders murmured around Lars’s cock, his voice thick.
The dual stimulation, the sight of Anders devouring Lars, Lars bucking beneath him – it was driving Erik insane. He felt Lars trembling all over, coiling tighter and tighter. Anders quickened his pace on both of them, hand pumping Erik faster, mouth working Lars furiously, throat muscles contracting visibly. "That’s it, boys," Anders urged, his voice thick with spit and arousal. "Come together for me. Paint his pretty stomach, Erik. Give me your load, Lars."
Erik couldn’t hold back another second. He screamed, burying his face in Lars’s sweaty shoulder as his orgasm ripped through him, pulsing hot and thick, splattering in heavy ropes across Lars’s abs and chest. A split second later, Lars roared, his whole body convulsing violently as he shot his load deep down Anders’s throat. Anders swallowed hard, taking every drop like a champion, before collapsing onto Lars’s thigh, utterly spent but looking ridiculously pleased with himself, a string of saliva connecting his lip to Lars's thigh.
Erik collapsed onto Lars’s chest, trembling, sticky, blissed out, his own cum cooling on Lars's skin. The only sounds were ragged gasps, the frantic pounding of their hearts, and the gentle lapping of the lake against the jetty posts. Slowly, Erik lifted his head. Lars’s blue eyes were dazed, unfocused, pupils blown wide, a goofy, utterly fucked-out grin spreading across his face. Erik couldn’t help but laugh, a shaky, breathless sound. He turned, finding Anders watching them, that smug smirk firmly back in place. He winked, then slowly, deliberately licked a stray drop of Erik's cum from Lars's stomach.
They lay there for a long time, a sticky, tangled, happy mess. The cool night air raised goosebumps on their cooling skin. This wasn’t just a boundary broken; it was a whole new goddamn playground discovered. And judging by the predatory glint back in Anders’s eyes as he started to stir, recess was just beginning.
