Sinric the Wanderer

Ragnar just stands there, drinking in the view and not moving otherwise, apart from his prick, which is visibly filling out at that enticing sight.

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Sinric moans as he kisses his way up the length of Athelstan's shaft, lapping softly at his leaking slit.

He reaches for Ragnar without lifting his head, drawing him closer that he might bring their pricks together and kisses them both at once.

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Athelstan takes Ragnar's hand as well to draw him in, the last thing he wants being for Ragnar to be left out.

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Ragnar is very happy to come closer and nudge his prick right next to Athelstan's -- he stands with his legs spread so they're the same height for Sinric to reach.

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Sinric glances up at him to smile his thanks before taking them both in hand. His lips and tongue move from one to the other, his cheek and hand warm against the one his mouth is not on this their are never bereft of contact.

With a cheeky smile he aligns them and takes the heads of their pricks into his mouth at once.

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Athelstan's hand tightens on Ragnar's, feeling them rub together in the heat of Sinric's mouth.

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Ragnar groans with sudden pleasure, his hand tightening on Athelstan's.

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Sinric's small mouth can't take them both deeply but it's enough to enjoy making them both groan and shake like this.

He draws back, holding them both close so the tip of his tongue can work both their slits, tasting the almost forgotten musk of them.

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"Sinric", Athelstan gasps out, suddenly finding he's leaning on Ragnar more than before.

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Ragnar clings to Athelstan, gasping at the touch of Sinric's tongue in that sensitive place, his pleasure spurred on by the knowledge that Athelstan is feeling the exact same thing.

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He strokes them both from root to tip, taking the heads of their pricks in his mouth once more, sucking as best he can.

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Athelstan groans, losing all grip on words for a moment.

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"You're going - to make us come -- too soon!" Ragnar gasps, as he feels the touch driving him out of his mind and into pure feeling. "Athelstan -- can rise again soon --"

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Sinric pulls back a little and smiles, giving the tip of Ragnar's prick a playful lick. "Do you want me to stop?

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"He just doesn't want to miss the rest of the fun", Athelstan says, catching his breath.

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Ragnar's prick shudders with pleasure under Sinric's tongue. "We want to do -- what we plotted!"

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"As you wish." Sinric grins wickedly and gives the head of Ragnar's prick one last kiss before rising.

With a degree of boldness, he struts towards the bed, looking back at him over his shoulder as if beckoning them to follow.

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Athelstan is still holding Ragnar's hand, and Sinric's boldness makes him laugh with delight and almost drag Ragnar after him.

(Almost, because Ragnar is right there with him.)

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Ragnar is right there with Athelstan, and they both follow Sinric to the bed, pricks still bobbing eagerly.

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Sinric perches on the edge of the bed, his back to them but half turned towards them.

Time has been kind and Sinric has healed well, the scar on his back and inner thigh little more that raised lines. He displays his body proudly, goading them to touch and take.

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Athelstan takes a position on one side of Sinric, Ragnar on the other.

"So", he says softly, reaching to run a hand over Sinric's body, "who is going to do what?"

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Ragnar bends his head to lick over Sinric's nipples; after all, that's the place he especially likes to be touched, so good for starting there.

"I'd like to pleasure him with my mouth," he murmurs against the small mounds, and the generous nubs.

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