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This summer was one of the longest and hottest you could remember in Derry. It stretched out in front of you, lovely, tantalizing, and so damn scorching you felt like you could die and that would be okay. You were at the quarry, having just chased away a group of younger kids so the gang and you could have the best swimming spot, complete with a short cliff to throw yourselves off of periodically. It was heaven — you had the water, a radio, the boys, and nowhere else to be all day. Heaven. Pure heaven. You wished that your whole life could be like this — chasing a high and spare shade in the middle of a summer day. With the guys, the best friends you’d ever had, your — well. You hesitated to think of them as anything else, even when something else was there. Fine Young Cannibals played from Vic’s radio as you all lay on the rocks. You stared at the sky as Patrick and Belch tried to burp out a conversation. Patrick’s side of it was meager at best. “Hey,” Henry called to you. “Come here.” This is how it always started — with Henry’s word. (Unless it was just you and Patrick — then it started just as soon as Patrick wanted, which was always, and damn near wouldn’t stop unless a bomb went off nearby.) You went to kneel next to where Henry reclined, his hair still a little damp from the swim you’d all taken. He smiled up at you, a little edge in his eye contact. “I said, come here,” he repeated, and then patted his lap. Your cheeks went up in flames. So this was the course of the day. It went this way often enough, with you being the one they all passed around. It seemed to be you or Vic more often than anyone else. Not that either of you would complain about that, of course. Not that either of you cared. You loved it, and you knew Vic did, too. You settled into Henry’s lap, your ass immediately pressing into his dick. He grinned up at you. He was already just a little bit hard and you couldn’t help but wonder how he could get hard listening to Patrick and Belch fuck around. There’s nothing sexy about that. “What, you got a thing for burping competitions?” you teased him. “Nah, I got a thing for you not barely wearing any clothes,” he shot back, pulling on a piece of your hair at the back of your neck. You whined at the dull pain, swatting his hand away. “Quit it, Henry.” “No,” he said, then placed a kiss just below your ear, in that spot that made you shiver more than jumping into cold water on a hot day. “I don’t wanna.” “If you’re just gonna tease the kid, let me have him,” said Patrick, swatting at a fly buzzing near his head. “I said I don’t wanna,” Henry said before biting into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You whimpered, squirming in his lap. He laughed, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling you close, your back flush against his chest. You could feel where he bit you blooming red, and you grew hard just thinking about it. He palmed the front of your trunks, chuckling in your ear. “You get off on this, don’t try and deny it,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to,” you shot back, wriggling in his lap. It was mostly for show — you loved the feeling of pressing your ass against his dick. And moving like you did only made him harder. You were proud of your ability to get this reaction from him. “Vic,” said Henry, “come here.” Vic stood in that uneasy way he had, a little bit shaky for the first step or so. He pressed a chaste kiss at the corner of Henry’s mouth. “Yeah, Henry?” Henry gestured wordlessly at you. Then, quietly, “what do you think?” Vic grinned at you. It wasn’t a dangerous smile like Patrick’s, the kind of smile that felt like you were being burned from the inside out. It was a gentle smile, a smile that meant you were understood. He knew what it was to be in Henry’s lap, to be Henry’s toy. “Looks good to me,” Vic said, brushing his thumb over your mouth. You flicked your tongue out to meet it, gaining a laugh from him. You took his finger into your mouth and got a groan instead. “Damn,” he gasped. He bent down to kiss you, hands on either side of your face. Your tongues met, all wet and eager, getting you a few catcalls from the other boys. They always loved to see the two of you together. Sometimes Belch would just watch as the two of you went at it, perfectly content. “Vic,” you moaned, Henry pressing kisses to your neck. So insistent, so good. Belch came over and sat next to Henry, holding out his arms. You looked to Henry, silently asking if that was what he wanted, too. He nodded, and you slid over onto Belch’s lap, curling into his arms. He always ran so hot that it was almost unbearable, but so lovely you could die. You kissed Belch next. He was always so soft with you, no teeth, almost no tongue. Vic slid into your vacated place in Henry’s lap, and as you looked up from Belch, you saw Patrick sitting apart, grinning, flicking his lighter on and off. You smiled up at Belch, and he smiled at you, nodding. You held one hand out to Patrick, an invitation, a question. He smiled even bigger at you. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said, coming to sit next to Belch. He toyed with your hair like Henry did, only harder. Where Henry gently tugged, Patrick pulled, making you yelp. Where Vic was all tongue in his kisses, Patrick was all teeth, all bite. You were glad, not for the first time, that you had all of them. Just one of them wouldn’t have been enough. Just one of them would have only been one part of what you wanted, what you needed. Patrick pulled you out of your thoughts with a hand in your hair and the other on the front of your pants. You looked at him, almost ready to ask what his problem was, and then you saw it — waiting so long to include him wasn’t a good idea. Somehow, you all knew that. But you still forgot it from time to time. “Thought you could leave me out, hm?” he mumbled into your neck, biting the round of your shoulder, his favorite spot. You knew then that, no matter how today went, he was going to leave you covered in the evidence of his being here, just like yesterday. He hauled you half out of Belch’s lap, gaining a surprised huff from you and Belch. “C’mon, Patrick, wait your turn,” groaned Belch. “You had him all day yesterday.” It was true. There was hardly a place on your body Patrick hadn’t already marked up, but you had complete faith that he could keep on doing it, making it worse. Painting you purple and red with his teeth and hands. “And I want him again,” Patrick growled. “So what?” “So you should learn how to fucking share,” said Vic from where he was straddling Henry. He didn’t even look up to say it, and you understood. There was something hypnotizing about Henry when he was hell bent on getting someone else off. You wished you had that power. “Maybe I don’t want to share anymore,” said Patrick, reaching into your pants to cup your half-hard cock. “Maybe you’ll get your ass beat for it,” said Belch. Patrick shrugged in response, slowly stroking you like there was nothing else he was doing. Like there was nothing else to worry about. “Not to bruise your ego, Patrick, but I like everyone here, and wouldn’t want just you,” you said. You knew it was a gamble, and as he bit harder into your shoulder, you hissed. You deserved it, in his eyes. In his eyes, it was only fair. “Maybe I want to get my ass beat. Maybe,” he said, licking the new bite mark in your sun-soaked skin, “maybe it’s worth it.” “Aw, someone has feelings,” gasped Vic. You looked over at the sound of his voice, and you saw that Henry had his trunks down, one hand wrapped firmly around his cock. “Mm, how about you take that back,” said Patrick. “Never.” You turned around in Patrick’s arms and kissed him full-on this time. “It’s okay,” you whispered against his lips. You were sure only Belch could hear you, and you knew he would keep it to himself. “It’s okay if you want me.” He only growled in response. Belch reached around you, pulling your trunks down so that your bare ass could sit flush on his lap. You tried not to blush, but that boy… there was more than met the eye, when it came to the heat he was packing. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable, and he groaned in your ear. Patrick climbed into your lap, his feet ending up on either side of Belch’s hips. You reached into the front of his trunks to pull out his cock and he looked for a moment like he was going to stop you, then he shrugged. He shrugged. Like it was good either way. You needed to fix that. You began stroking him like it didn’t matter to you either way, too, but inside you, you meant it. You twisted your hand over the head of him, you gathered the precum with your thumb and brought it to your mouth as you looked him dead in the eye. He rolled his eyes, smiling. “That’s my boy,” he said. “That’s a good boy.” You groaned, bringing your cocks together. You couldn’t quite reach around them, cursing your small hands for the millionth time in a few days. “Belch,” you started. He just reached around you without a word, wrapping your and Patrick’s cocks up in one of his big hands. Patrick hissed. You knew, though you wouldn’t tell anyone, that after Henry, Belch was his favorite. There was something about Belch’s hands that you couldn’t put into words, not that you tried very hard. But god, they were… they were right. Belch stroked both of you together, you collecting precum from time to time to the sounds of Henry and Vic fucking beside you. Vic sounded like he was having the time of his life, but he always did when he was with Henry. It would be enough to make you jealous if you didn’t understand completely. “Open,” you said to Patrick, a drop of your own precum on the tip of your finger. He did, and you placed it on his tongue. He sucked your finger into his mouth, moaning. Belch picked up the pace, and you brought your other hand over your shoulder to hold his face. “I promise you’re next,” you said over your shoulder. He smiled at you. “Shouldn’t be long, now.” He was right. With the way Patrick sounded, it shouldn’t be long at all. He was taking short breaths, almost hyperventilating with the effort of not immediately coming. You kissed him, hard, biting his lip, doing whatever you could to get him there, and as soon as possible. “What, you don’t wanna keep playing with me?” he moaned. “Sharing is caring, Patrick. Don’t you want to pass me off to Belch?” “We’ve talked about this. You’re mine as much as I want you to be,” he said. “Mm, no. I’m Belch’s, and Vic’s, and Henry’s. And yours, just a little bit,” you teased. He reached up to wrap a hand around your throat, squeezing the sides. You tried to moan, but his hand was so strong. It came out a strangled whine. “You’re. Mine.” “Pat —” you whined. “Say it.” He squeezed. “Please —” “Say it.” His hand was cutting off all of your air. “I’m — I’m yours.” “That’s right,” he said. “You are.” “For now,” said Belch. Patrick shot him a look that should have killed him. Then he stood, grabbing your head in both hands. “Open,” he commanded. You shot a look back at Belch. He nodded at you, eyes half shut. Just having you on his lap was enough for now, and he traced his hands up and down your side. You opened your mouth, allowing Patrick to slide his cock inside, heavy and so full of that scent that followed you everywhere. You were one of those lucky boys who seemed to always smell like sex and sunshine, and it was because you had the boys in your life. You tongued softly at the underside of his cock, using your other hand to pump the base of it slowly. He growled down at you, slapping your hand away and holding your head in place as he roughly fucked into your mouth. “Easy,” breathed Belch. Patrick didn’t answer. You knew Patrick thought you deserved this, his cock breaching your gag reflex and bumping into your throat. You gagged. Not close to throwing up, but it was enough to gag, to choke. That got Patrick to where he was going to be. He held your head close, your nose up against his navel as he came into your mouth. Out of habit, you swallowed. He knelt down. “Let me see.” You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. It was completely clean. “That’s a good boy,” he said, running a hand through your shaggy hair. “’M not a dog,” you huffed, playfully. You’d said it to him so many times that you knew exactly what his response would be. “Doesn’t matter.” He sat down, flicking his lighter open and closed again, waiting his turn for round two. “Patrick,” Vic moaned. All eyes were suddenly on him as he rode Henry’s cock. “Patrick, c’mere.” Patrick smiled in that way that meant he was about to eat someone alive, and then left you with Belch. Belch slid one big hand down your back, cupping your ass. “You okay?” he asked. You nodded. “What do you want?” “Kiss me?” And he did. Your momma once called him a gentle giant. That was mostly because he called her ma’am and knew how to talk to a lady without being the worst example of a boy he could be. His own momma taught him right. But you knew him as such because of how he handled you when you came to him after the other boys had finished with you. Patrick was rough, Henry was fast, Vic was a lot, but Belch… Belch was careful. If there was ever a time you needed to be taken care of, you showed up at Belch’s door. That’s where you spent last night, in Belch’s bed, after Patrick made a bruised mess of your body. He kissed you, so soft but so insistent that it had your head spinning. It was a huge change to make so soon after Patrick, but after so long, you were kind of used to it. You turned around in his lap, breaking the sideways kiss to face him fully. “What do you want, baby?” you whispered against his lips. He blushed at the pet name that you only broke out at times like this. He needed more sweetness from you than any of the others did, and you were only ever happy to provide it. “Can I finger you?” he asked. “Do you want that?” You nodded. Then you opened your mouth for two of his thick fingers. You sucked them like they were a cock, and he sighed against your shoulder. “Don’t have to put on a show for me, you know.” You hummed around his fingers, then he slid them out of your mouth. You pressed a short kiss to his lips. “I like you just the way you come to me,” he said. “Mm, you’re a big softie,” you murmured against his lips as he played one finger across your tight hole. “Uh huh,” he said, slowly slipping one finger inside you. “Just for you.” He played with you like that, soft touches pushing inside you until you whined with every push. He got to three fingers before you could believe it. “You’re so good for me,” he breathed against your cheek, his fingers twisting inside you, spreading you so open you could cry. Even after all your experience, sometimes you still felt like a virgin. It was always with Belch that you felt this way. He took you back to the very beginning, a few years ago at some party with some boy whose whole existence had been eclipsed by your boys. “Just for you, baby,” you whispered so that none of the others could hear. “No one else but you.” “Promise?” he teased you, your voices taken over by the sound of Vic moaning around Patrick’s cock. You kissed him. “Promise.” You came for him, feeling amazing, chanting his name against his lips. You sighed, then rolled off his lap away from the group, stretching your arms and legs. You watched Patrick, Henry, and Vic going at it for a moment before Belch’s hand in your hair brought your attention back to him. “Mm?” He said, quietly, “my turn.” “Huh? Oh. God, sorry.” You crawled up to him, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I can’t believe I forgot my favorite dick,” you muttered. “’M not your favorite,” he said. “You are, though.” Then you pulled back and got on your hands and knees, ass in the air, pulling his cock out of his trunks, pumping it slowly, sending him a slick grin. He smiled back at you with all the warmth you never felt like you deserved. You took his cock into your mouth, tonguing at the slit before rolling your tongue around the head. “Fuck,” he said. You hummed your agreement. You were good at this, you knew. You loved it, too, how you could pull a boy apart with your mouth alone. It didn’t take long before he was coming in your mouth. A little leaked out the side, where you were stretched to the limit, and as you came up to kiss him again, he wiped it away with a few of his fingers. Before he could wipe them off somewhere, you grabbed his wrist and licked them clean. He groaned. “You’re so dirty,” he said. “Mm hm. You love it,” you replied, curling up again in his lap, watching Patrick, Henry, and Vic finish up. Vic reached out one hand for you, and you took it, holding it as he came. You knew, one day, that all of this would end. But you were glad it wouldn’t be today.