Sinric the Wanderer

Athelstan holds him, thrusting harder and faster now Sinric's found his completion, until he comes to his own.

"Fall safely", he murmurs in the same language, "where we love you."

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Ragnar suckles Sinric right through his orgasm, tasting his spent and swallowing what little there is to it, until Sinric's pleasure is truly over.

His own hips stutter against the fur on the bed, aroused almost beyond control at witnessing both of the others find their peaks so soon after each other.

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Athelstan's words tear a grateful sob from him as he feels Athelstan's release fill him.

He feels Ragnar rut against the bed, even through the hazy of his high. "My mouth." He begs hoarsely. "I would taste you."

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"It's your turn", Athelstan says to Ragnar, smiling as he withdraws from Sinric without taking his hands or mouth from his skin.

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Ragnar kneels up, his prick very red and ready, hard and springy and glistening generously at the top, and pulls Sinric's upper body into his lap so he can taste him at will.

He shudders, very close and very ready, and smiles at Athelstan.

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Sinric knows it will take no great skill to bring Ragnar over the edge, and all but falls onto him. His small mouth, hot lips embrace Ragnar's prick, taking him to the root at once, his tongue pressing and curling.

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Athelstan stretches out next to Sinric, dropping kisses on his skin with no urgency now.

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"Unfair!" Ragnar declares as Sinric's skills assault his prick from all directions; and yes, it doesn't take more than that.

With a great shout, he spills himself into Sinric's ready mouth, in several great spurts.

He throws his head back and gives a series of long moans as the peak of his pleasure lasts through several heartbeats before abating.

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Even as Sinric swallows and swallows, it's too much and Ragnar's release spills over his lips and onto his chin and throat. He moans, drinking down the bitter salt of him gladly, looking like a debauched angel.

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He looks beautiful in his debauchery, and Athelstan leans back to just look at him for a long moment.

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Ragnar lies down beside them now, and starts leisurely licking his own seed off Sinric's throat, and face.

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The little laps makes him moan and shiver, swallowing again. His slender adam's apple dancing under Ragnar's mouth.

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Athelstan lifts a hand to stroke Sinric's throat, his fingers brushing Ragnar's lips in the process.

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Ragnar positively purrs with contentment at touching both of them; a languid hand stretches out to stroke Athelstan's hips.

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His throat has been a trigger every since but with them, the touch doesn't cause any reaction, so deep is his trust in them.

Sated and shattered, he relaxes into their touch, letting himself be warmed by their closeness as he comes down from the high.

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It's the lightest of touches as well, with no hint of a squeeze.

"Sinric", Athelstan murmurs.

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"This was every bit as good," Ragnar pants, "as I always hoped it would be."

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He clings to them then, laughing softly as tears of joy dampen his cheeks. He's still too lost for words but he kisses them.

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Athelstan kisses him back.

"And now here you are with us again", he says against Sinric's lips.

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"Safe between us," Ragnar says. "Ours."

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The tears come quicker as he hugs them both close. It is some time before he finds his voice but when he does, it's to sing thank you in as many languages as he knows.

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Athelstan reaches out to wipe the tears away very gently.

"I meant what I said", he says, again in Greek.

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Ragnar moves is head slightly so he can kiss Sinric's lips and eyelids, very gently, as he can be.

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