Obedience 26

Mar 20, 2017 14:47


Author:   timrod
Rating:  NC17 overall

Pairing:  Billie Joe/Mmmmike/Frankie
Disclaimer:  I don't own Green Day, but I do have access to a secure dungeon

Part  twenty-six of fuck knows.  Enter the Drummer. Goes hand in handcuffs with


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Testing, testing.  Is this thing on?

I suppose I’d better explain before shit gets confusing.  Tré here, also known as Frankie, Babe, or to one special lady, Frankie Bear.  As a pre-wedding treat, Mike and Bill have let me take over their sex diary/smog thingy.  It’s like a blog, but a lot smuttier, get it?  *wiggles eyebrows*

The tour turned out great, seriously, one of the best.  From Colorado we only had five or six more shows, I forget exactly, before we went home for the holidays.  The kids were a brilliant distraction from the fact that Sara wasn’t about, doing a short but badly-timed tour with her own band.  I was pissed she couldn’t be with me, and she was pissed that I only got to catch one of her  dates, but let’s just say that there was a lot of late night Skyping, and the reunion was sweeeeeet.  From a few days before Thanksgiving to the day we left for our bachelor/bachelorette parties, we were hardly apart for longer than it took to take a shit.  I know, call me Mr Romance.   She left for her week away with her girlfriends on Sunday morning, and about an hour after, the Armstrong-Pritchards  swung by to pick me up.

Mike was driving.  I think he likes the power, the chance to feel in charge, but everyone knows Billie wears the pants in their marriage.  Ironic, because he’s the one who looks best in a dress.  Don’t get me wrong, theirs is a totally equal partnership, but if Billie wants to turn right and Mike wants to go left, they’ll turn right.  I think that’s what makes him such a fucking awesome front man for the band.  He can get people to do exactly what he wants without apparently trying.   Anyway, my point is that I suspect the whole plot to seduce me came from him originally, but I bet Mike took less than a second to agree to it.  Sucker.

Literally.

Anyway, Billie stayed in the front, although he was almost permanently twisted in his seat to grin at me.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“You, my friend, are going to enjoy your last week of being a single man.  We got six cabins on a lake,  fishing stuff, jet skis, beer, barbecue, trail bikes, and more beer.  We got a deep freeze filled with crap, and we even got internet so you can video call Sara if we start to bore you.  The others should get there tonight.”

Explanation #2  “The Others”.  Basically, a couple of crew members who are more like family after all these years on the road, and a handful of cousins, potential brothers-in-law, some old school friends, and Dad.  Eighteen in total.  Three or four to each cabin, from Sunday to Thursday, then three days at home alone, playing with myself while I waited for Sara to get back from her week of behaving badly.

“Sounds great.”  It really did.  I haven’t been fishing with Dad for years, and there’s nothing like eating something you caught just a few minutes before. cooked over a smoky camp fire.  Dad and me used to do that all the time when I was a kid.   The bikes were going to be wicked, too, and those long hours sitting around, cradling a can of beer would be a chance to get to know my new family.  You never really know someone until you’ve got them drunk, and this week was a far better time than at the wedding.  It wasn’t bright lights and non-stop partying, but these guys know what I really like - the simple life, but with a little bit of thrill seeking thrown in every so often.

We had a great trip up to the lake.  The roads were clear most of the way, and as we hadn’t been together much since the tour finished, apart from birthdays, and the couple of times we had fittings for our wedding suits,  there was lots to talk about.   First thing I noticed in the back of the car was Billie’s guitar in its battered case.  That instrument sure has done some miles, and seeing it on top of their bulky luggage (three bulging holdalls, two backpacks and what looked like a shoe carrier) made me smile.  Over  the years, music has given me two brothers, a lot of money and soon, it was giving me a wife.

We got to the cabins in time to see the sun set behind the mountains that almost formed a circle around us, and in groups of two or three, the rest of the party arrived.  About half of them had never met Billie or Mike before and it was so fucking funny watching them trying to act all cool around rock gods, but one case of beer later, it was like we had all been friends for years.  I think that was the night we had our first fart olympics.  Mike made a delicious-but-vicious chilli (yeah, this WAS the night of the fart-a-thon) and we shared stories of childhood camp-outs until our fire pit was nothing more than a faint glow.  Dad went to bed first - he’s not rockturnal like us - but when one of the others started yawning, it was infectious.

It was such a change of pace from regular life.  Planning the wedding had kept me pretty busy, and it was so good to turn off the alarm on my phone.  Having said that, Monday morning, Dad caught a fucking monster of a fish with his first cast, but eating it with our fingers at breakfast made it worth being woken at the godforsaken hour.  I was eight again, and I think it made Dad happy to remember the adventures we used to have together.    The rest of the time we woke when we wanted, ate burgers for breakfast, and cereal for supper, usually with beer, and rowed, and swam or rode, ripping the shit out of my cousin when he got lost on a well-marked bike trail for nearly three hours.  I saw a side of Dad I’d rarely seen before when Billie got out his beat-up acoustic guitar one night (Old Yeller, this one.  I love how he names his guitars) and played along as Dad crooned some old standards.  The jet skis were great until we realised that we hadn’t brought enough spare gas with us, but I loved every minute of it, and didn’t want Thursday to come around as fast as it did.

Silly me.  Thursday onwards was the best part.

As they’d arrived in twos and threes, so they left.  It seemed natural that since Bill and Mike had organised the whole break that they would be the last to leave, and I went round with Mike to check every cabin was empty and secure.  We ended back at their place, and the first thing I realised was that my bag was on the counter in the kitchen, not in the car ready for the drive home, and they hadn’t made any effort whatsoever to pack up their shit.  Mike came up behind me and wrapped those fucking lovely arms around my shoulders, briefly kissing my ear.

“Had fun, Frankie?”

“Fuck, yeah, thanks.  S’been great.  No broken bones and I didn’t get arrested.”

“Pretty good result, then.  And Sara’s back Sunday afternoon?”

“Think so.  Maybe lunch time.  Depends when she wakes up.”

“Bet you’ve missed her.”

“Yeah - four times yesterday.  Just the once today so far.” I had to chuckle, and so did he. Little did I know exactly WHY he was chuckling. I was just about to find out.

“She misses you, too.”

“Wha …..?  You spoke to her?”

“A half hour ago.  Follow me.  She wants to talk to you.”

He grabbed me by the wrist, gentle but commanding and guided me into their bedroom.  The first thing I noticed was that it was very warm in there.  The second was that it was enormous.   I’d had a room all to myself in my cabin and it was a good size, but this was obviously meant for a couple.  Or a dance class.  The bed was fucking HUGE, and Billie looked tiny, sprawled in the middle of it, in yesterday’s t-shirt, ripped jeans and no socks.

*waits for penny to drop*

*silence*

At the foot of the bed was a dresser with a laptop perched on it, and the screen was filled with the face of my wonderful Sara.  I sat on the end of the bed, and Mike snuggled up with Billie behind me.   I should have guessed there was some hidden agenda when Mike kicked off his boots, but no …..

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hi, Baby.  Had a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s been great.  How about you?”

“Yeah, same.  Nobody else’s up yet.  We were kinda late last night.  The bar chucked us out at three thirty.   So what have you been up to?”

“Fucking about on the water.  Chilling.  Drinking.  Ate too much, gonna have to work out a bit if my suit’s gonna fit next Friday.”

There was a  giggle from behind me, and Sara seemed to be amused, too.  I really should have realised by now that they were plotting something.  She cleared her throat, composed herself, and leaned in to the camera.  “I think Billie and Mike might be able to do something about that.”   I know I snorted.  Mike is no stranger to a gym, and has the body of a Greek god to prove it, but Billie’s fitness regime seems to consist of opening the bottle of dressing to pour on his salad, although he is also in fantastic shape.  Metabolism’s a bitch.

“Huh?”

“They’ve got a proposal for you.  Mike ….”

Suddenly I was aware that the two of them were right up close behind me.  Mike put his arm around my neck. and Billie slid his around my waist, and, taking it in turns, they explained their filthy, depraved little plot to me.

I was gobsmacked.   Before I met Sara, this was the dream I had jerked off to a thousand times, and here I was, being offered it on a plate, with her complete and utter approval - no - encouragement.  Fuck, she’s incredible.  All through the indecent proposal, she wore an enigmatic smile, and when they’d told me almost every last detail, she cooed my name and kissed the lens.

“Frankie, please say yes.”

I took a deep breath, perfectly aware of the three pairs of eyes scanning my face for any hint of which way I was going to go.  All I could think of how these two guys had given me my first sexual experiences, back in our shitty little squat, and those memories were happy,  despite the fact that we had nothing back then.  From there, I remembered how Sara had reacted when I shared stories from the squat with her, in minute detail, and how fucking great the sex had been afterwards,   I stared at her radiant, expectant face and nodded, my dick already testing the seams of my underwear.

“I’d fucking love it.  Yes.”

She squealed, wriggling in her seat in excitement, and I loved her a little bit more than I had a moment earlier.  She really is my soul mate.   Billie threw back his head and let out a long, triumphant tongue-trill, and then they both kissed me, smiling, and left the room, hand in hand, so I could have a few private words with my wife-to-be.

By the time she hung up, with her girlfriends hammering on her hotel room door, I could smell coffee.  I yelled to the guys that I was done with the call, and as if the clock had rolled back twenty five years, we climbed on to the bed with our drinks, and the kissing began, until our mouths tasted of nothing but each other.  Billie gathered up the empty cups and stacked them on the dresser, but I was a little confused when Mike got off the bed, too.  The penny finally dropped the whole way when he opened the closet door, to reveal not one, but two movie cameras on tripods, which he plugged in and carefully positioned at the foot of the bed.

“Fuck, you’re gonna …..?”

“In glorious technicolour, my friend, to keep and watch over and over again.”

“Shit.  I mean, great, but …”

“Sara’s idea,”

“Well, ours, too, but she suggested it before we did.”

“Nice.”

Fuck, I’m lucky.  Out of seven billion people on this planet, the three most beautiful and depraved love me, and I love them in return.

Mike pressed two record buttons and settled back on the bed, sandwiching me between himself and his husband.  “Let’s make  start, shall we?  I think we need to be reminded of how you look naked.”

He’d got a point.  I’d seen the two of them as nature intended in their honeymoon movies, but I have no clue when I last got my kit off in front of them - maybe as long as 15 years ago.  They savoured every minute of the reveal, starting by stripping off my socks and shirt, going through a good deal of kissing and nipple sucking before they made any attempt to expose my lower half.  I was so relaxed, reliving the days when we did this all the time, that I forgot about the cameras quietly whirring a handful of feet away as I let them undress me like an overgrown doll.  This was going to be some fucking awesome home movie.  A low grunt in my ear told me to lift, and I obeyed immediately, watching Mike peel my pants inside out and drop them to the floor.  I’d barely taken that fact on board, when my attention was well and truly diverted by Billie’s breath on my cock, steamy-hot even through the thin, stretched cover of my underwear.

Fuck, that man gives the best oral.  He has next to no gag reflex, and that bottom lip is as soft and sensual as any woman’s.    He wrapped his divine lips around me, not from the tip, but from the side, chewing without the scrape of teeth down my erection to my half-full sac.  There, he slurped my ball into his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and his top palate, and even through a layer of fabric, it felt so fucking good, I was glad I only had one.  He was making the most fabulous noises, and my eyes slammed shut to intensify the sensation - and I nearly missed the sight of Mike pulling my boxers down almost as far as Billie’s lips, and taking my cock into his own mouth.

A hummer is always good.  One from a man who knows what he is doing is better.  I can tell you that one from two men at once is simply fucking incredible.  They both seemed very aware of not blocking the cameras, and soon Mike was making as many greedy noises as Billie.  It was even hotter because they were both still dressed, but there’s only so much shirt tugging a man can do before he needs to feel skin.

“Guys ….. guys.”

There were two disappointed-sounding moans as they pulled off me, and the air immediately started to cool the flesh beneath the wet cotton.

“Problem, Babe?”  They seemed to get over their disappointment real quick with a small shared kiss.  My dick throbbed.  Twice.

“No problem.  I just think I need you naked, too.”

Mike giggled.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

I SWEAR they’d been rehearsing.  Rising slowly to their knees, Billie’s hands on Mike’s shoulders, Mike’s around Billie’s waist, they kissed again, but with a steady-building passion that was beautiful to watch.  I didn’t notice when the buttons on Mike’s flannel shirt were undone, but suddenly it was on the floor, revealing his muscles, bulging from under the sleeves of a very tight white t-shirt.  That was tugged over his head, inside out, mussing up his already messy hair, but before I could catch my breath, Billie’s tattoos were on open display in a blurred movement that was gong to look so damn good in slo - mo, and that made no difference at all to his untidy blond curls.  The next time they kissed, I watched deft, well-practiced fingers, not mouths, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping, until in turn, each laid the other down to remove the last stitches of clothing, and fuck, that almost sounds like poetry, but words don’t do it justice.  You had to be there.  Before I could tell them how fucking amazing they looked, they were back either side of me, and somehow, my underwear was on the floor with theirs.

“Fuck.  Fuck, that was …..”

“Slutty?”  We all laughed together, remembering the hot summer’s afternoon in the squat when they’d described Mike’s seduction to me in graphic detail - just before they seduced me.

“A bit.  But fucking lovely, too.”

“You’re lovely.  You’re in great shape, Frankie.”

“Especially this.  It’s bigger than I remember.”

“Thanks, I think.”  Maybe it was, but by rights it should have been smaller, worn to a stump after the way Sara and me had been going at it this past year.  Mike’s hand was definitely helping get the best out of it, though, for sure.

“Mike says you came once already.”  Billie sounded matter-of-fact, casual, talking about something so intimate, his hand now wrapped around my ball, fingers teasing at my taint.

“Fuck, yeah.  First thing. Shower.”  Yeah, you try putting a sentence together when these two are touching your junk.

“Ah, the old classic.”  He leaned in to kiss me, and whispered into my mouth.  “We didn’t.  Shower or come.”

I knew what he was asking for, and it was something I’d fantasised about for years.  I nodded, very subtly, but Billie was close enough to register the movement.   He clambered over me to lie in Mike’s arms, and when he was settled, I crawled down the bed, making sure to keep the camera angle clear, and took a revision course in giving head.   Then I took another.

I think I passed.

pairing: billie/mike/tre, rating: nc-17, author: timrod

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