Buck Wilmington grabbed two cold beers out of the refrigerator and headed into the living room of the cluttered townhouse apartment he shared with JD Dunne. JD was away with his girlfriend Casey on a "seminar" weekend-- Buck knew the scholarly escape was merely a cover for the kids to have some sex without Casey's Aunt Nettie getting too suspicious. That their youngest ATF team member was getting some this weekend made Buck happy. The kid needed calming down. Most the time the hyperkinetic computer geek was a damned good roomie, but could occasionally get in the way -- and this weekend was just one of those times.This would be THE weekend. JD would not be the only one getting some -- Buck had plans for himself and the primary object of his desire. This was going to be one of his best schemes yet. Not to mention that it would enhance the sex life of two of his best buddies, whether they knew it or not.
"All I got is long-necks, Coronas," Buck said, as he returned to the living room where Vin Tanner awaited him. Vin had flopped on the couch-after shoving aside magazines, newspapers, and a couple of Playstation modules and was surfing through the TV channels with the sound on mute. Vin looked up as he took the beer from Buck and winked. "Hey, I ain't complainin', s'long'z it's cold," the Texan drawled.
Buck smiled back, feeling a slight surge of blood to his groin at the boyish, crooked smile and twinkling blue eyes of one of the men who had gradually become something more than just another agent he worked with constantly. Vin had always been a looker, Buck considered. Long legs, tight ass, fine body. Long hair that just begged to be grabbed and held tight while that mouth was ravaged.Ö
Wheee-ooo! It's pretty clear what ol' Chris Larabee sees in him! Damn, this boy's fine, Buck thought to himself. He clinked his beer bottle against Vin's in a toast. "To gettin' laid," Buck said.
Vin grinned. "Okay, Bucklin, what'cha got in mind?" Team Seven's sharpshooter swigged deeply from the bottle and waited for Buck's explanation, completely innocent of any provocation in his own words. Buck had to cross his legs to hide the growing reaction.
"Well, Vin," Buck said, as seriously as he could keep his tone, "I need to use the Velcro on you."
Vin froze, eyes wide. "Hey, now-" he made a move to set his beer bottle down and get up at the same time, but Buck restrained him with a hand on his arm.
"Aw, Vin, come on, this is ol'Buck ... you trust me, don't you?"
"Look, I helped you pick somethin' out, I even let you lead me back to the Pink Pussycat three times now. Ain't that enough? Now I gotta let you use it on me?"
"Well ... yeah," Buck said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "How else am I gonna know if it'll work?"
"Look, all I promised to do was help you pick somethin' out for you and Ezra to ...you know...uh...." A flush was actually creeping up the long-haired sharpshooter's neck to stain his tanned cheeks in a ruddy show of embarrassment. "Well, hell." He took another long swig of beer and shook his head.
"But it was your idea!" Buck flopped down sulkily in the soft oxblood leather settee adjacent to the couch. He let his legs flop open carelessly, and threw his dark head back with a theatrical sigh of despair. Buck let Vin stew in his guilt and shyness for a moment before he added, "I just don't want to get this all set up and find out it doesn't work...."
Buck had managed to get Vin into this by pleading with him for a little help in finding a new kind of toy to enhance his newly-discovered relationship with Ezra Standish, the suave and handsome undercover agent on their team. In reality, they were just fine in that department, but Vin would never know that. This was for Vin's benefit, though he just didn't know that yet, either. And Chris's, too, he added to himself. In the long run they'd both thank him.
In long hours on stakeouts and sitting around hospital waiting rooms, Buck had discovered from their idle conversation that Vin had a healthy kinky streak in him in spite of his quiet demeanor. Buck had taken weeks of careful prying, and still only had the barest of details from either of his teammates and friends, but it looked like neither Chris nor Vin had revealed their spicier interests to each other.
Vin might have had a lot of experience, but he was never much for sharing--it had taken a lot to pry loose the little bit Buck had gotten out of the sharpshooter. Buck could allow as how Vin's shyness and reluctance might have something to do with how he wanted Chris to look at him now that they were involved. Love had a way of making friends who never cared a lick one minute about what someone thought change different folks when they got involved. Buck figured that was what was goin' on with Vin and Chris. The two of them were tighter than balls in a sack, but they weren't communicating.
Knowing Chris, Buck was surprised that the old war dog hadn't gotten a little drunk one night and shown Vin his kinky crazy side. Why was he holding back with Junior? Buck had known Chris since their Navy days when Chris would cut loose for all the world to see with that "you can all go to hell" attitude.
Something about Vin had calmed Chris down. Maybe he was afraid of spooking the quiet Texan. Maybe Chris really cared about him so much that he had pulled back and was keeping his real self in check for fear he'd drive Vin away.
Buck had to laugh at that -- like either one could drive the other away. Anyone with half an eye could see they were like two halves of somethin' special, even more than Chris had been with Sara, his wife.
A fuzzy memory floated into Buck's head: one night a few months ago, when he and Chris had shared surveillance duty and Buck made a crude joke after Chris mentioned Vin being "tied up"-in this case, meaning late. Chris cut Buck off and mumbled that Vin probably wasn't into that stuff.
So, Chris was keeping up his whitebread image that he projected in his position in the department, even in the bedroom. After his recent talks with Vin, Buck was knew that the sharpshooter had a wicked streak but was mostly Mister Straight Arrow, like he was at the department. Then the light bulb had gone off in Buck's head: the two stubborn fools each thought the other wasn't interested so neither one ever brought it up.
At first he'd thought it was hilarious. Then, it had begun to eat at him little by little, just as he knew it had to be a rotten spot in their fledgling relationship. Not having secret needs and desires fulfilled by one's lover made for a dangerous poison in a relationship. It was a hunger never fed, and a tiny, lonely wound never kissed and made better.
Now it was a Mission. A Mission from the Love God.
And if Buck Wilmington wasn't the Love God, he was sure gonna get promoted to Number One Archangel if this worked, he figured.
At the same time, he was working on improving his own sex life with Ezra and now it looked like the two ideas were on the same track, heading for just the kind of collision that Buck figured was the best kind-one that would end in fireworks in the bedroom.
Today-"V-Day" in Buck's mind-they had snuck out at four-thirty. Chris was in a meeting that was expected to last till five. Buck was supposed to drop Vin back at the office on his way to Ezra's, to cover their escape so Vin could be waiting for Chris when the meeting was over. At least that's what Vin thought was the plan.
It had taken Buck three trips to the Pink Pussycat, Denver's biggest and best adult store, to finally select the Deluxe set of this particular item. Buck was pleased and surprised that it was Vin who'd come up with the perfect idea, but Buck knew "still waters could hide some twisty ways" as he had told Ezra. Besides, on those long, dark stakeout nights after Buck had wheedled out of Vin some of the things he'd done or been into when he was in the Rangers and bounty hunting, Buck knew he should not have been surprised. No wonder that boy could tie a knot no perp could get out of!
Using the excuse that he was planning on spicing up his own personal life with Ezra-never untrue, of course, since anything new and kinky enhanced what they had going-Vin had laughingly suggested he purchase the Velcro sheets for his king-sized bed. Buck figured, "what the hell"-he knew that Ezra was enough of an adventurous spirit to enjoy it, no matter what happened with Vin and Chris.
However, he had doubts as to how effective it would be in holding down a highly physically fit, aroused, and determined man like Vin Tanner; or like Ezra Standish was, too. When he had realized that a Quality Control test was in order, everything had clicked into place.
That's when Vin testing it became the key to the whole thing.
"Come on, Vin. Please." Buck leaned closer and smiled his best charm-his-shorts-off smile. "I can't test it myself. I'd make JD do it, but he's away with Casey till Sunday night. Besides, he gets a little ... um ... goofy about this kind of stuff. And you know he'll try to make a joke out of anything...."
Vin shook his head, "Why can't you be the one stuck to the bed?"
Buck laughed, "Junior, look at me. Do you think I'm similar in build to Ezra?" He stretched out his six-foot, four-inch lanky frame, arms wide.
"Hell no, but I ain't gonna...."
"Damn, Vin, what's with the shy virgin act? This damn thing was your idea. You and Chris have one like this? Or you two have another favorite?" He knew better. He knew they neither one had taken the step of introducing anything like this into their bedroom, and again was fishing for hints in some of those "still waters" that had become a little choppy.
Vin tensed, "None of your fuckin' business, Buck!" Tanner snapped.
Knowing he had hit a sensitive spot with the team's sharpshooter, Buck tried to make amends. "I ain't asking for details, Vin. But you can tell old Buck about any interesting kink you two have discovered. Share the wealth." Buck gave him the famous Wilmington smile. "Must have tried a few things by now. What's it been, three months? Four?" Truth was, none of the rest of the Team were sure when the pair of them first had gotten together, when it had first happened. Finding out about Chris and Vin had been less of a shock to Buck than realizing that his instincts for sniffing these things out had faltered.
Vin took a long hard swig on his beer. "Damn it Buck, if I help ya out, you gonna drop it?"
"Not a word! Thanks Vin, I promise, not a single word more 'bout it," Buck said as he headed to his bedroom. He could hear Vin behind him, mumbling.
"I can't believe I'm gonna do this...." At the bedroom door, Vin paused and looked around. "Damn, Buck! You got a maid now?"
The room was surprisingly pretty clean. Instead of the clutter and chaos that had dubbed the Wilmington/Dunne residence the "Center for Disease Control" for Team Seven, the room was orderly-not a single pair of dirty shorts hung on the bedpost and nary a sock peeked from under the bed. Tracks even showed where a vaccuum cleaner had recently clear-cut the mess.
"Ezra's kinda particular about 'mood'. He likes things tidy so he ain't distracted when ... well ... you can imagine."
"Don't make me, Buck," Vin said with a grin that faded as he looked at the bed. His expression became wary and skittish again.
On the top of the covers, was the king-sized black Velcro sheet. It was made of the softer, loopy material. The cuffs that held the victim lay on the floor beside the bed and attached to it by large bands of the stickier part.
Vin stopped, suddenly stiffening like he was uncomfortable in Buck's bedroom. He looked around, taking in the soft light, the burgundy and dark green drapes, matching sheets, Velcro bedding, and the large garish dark-red glass lamp, adorned with rather large hanging maroon crystal tear drops.
"Jeez, Buck -- I feel like I'm in whorehouse!"
"Thanks! Appearance is everything, as Ezra likes to say." Buck grinned then slapped him on the back. "Okay, buddy. I need you to take off your shirt and boots."
Vin looked at him, annoyed. "You didn't say I had to undress."
"Vin, how can I test if the cuffs hold you unless I put them on you? If it's gonna work, this has to be a good simulation-"
Vin wasn't moving.
Exasperated, Buck pleaded, "Come on, I've seen you without a shirt before."
There was a hesitancy to Vin's movements as he unbuttoned his denim shirt, and Buck realized he was staring at a photo on the dresser of Buck and Chris from their Navy SEAL days. Vin stood for a moment unmoving, his fingers stopped on his buttons.
It was then that Buck started to second-guess his brilliant idea. Maybe he shouldn't meddle between Chris and Vin. The sudden doubt, the sudden thought that perhaps Chris might not understand, that he might accidentally cause some irreparable misunderstanding between the two lovers because of what he was about to do to Vin made Buck pause.
Buck turned to tell Vin it was off only to see Vin holding the cuffs, an evil smile on his face. He even fondled them a little, with a glance toward the photo once again.
"These are pretty good, Bucklin. You got the best. No way anybody can pull free. With the direction that the Velcro cuffs go, you can't tear open the bond the way they made these." He tugged and twisted them as his mind seemed to be going over the idea with a new-found enthusiasm.
Buck decided to put Plan A back into action after seeing the grin that lit up Vin's face. "Vin, I hate to ask this, could you pull off your jeans too? I'm afraid that the cloth will give you an advantage; one Ezra won't have naked."
Vin looked over at him suspiciously, his brow furrowed. "You don't have a camera in here do ya Buck? Cause if you do...."
Buck raised his hands and shook his head. "I promise, Vin. No camera, I just want to test this out. All I want is for tomorrow night to be special. JD's away, new toy...."
Buck knew he looked sincere, but Vin wasn't stupid. He gave Buck a seriously suspicious look and when Buck held his gaze, Vin finally must have figured he was being honest. He unzipped his jeans.
"Good thing you didn't go commando there, Junior. Might not be able to help myself," Buck joked as he admired Vin's blue briefs.
"Watch it Buck," Vin growled. "Wasn't planning on stripping for you tonight."
Buck laughed, "Okay, Vin, get comfortable." He bent over and picked up the cuffs where Vin had left them.
Vin sat back on the bed, bouncing a little before moving his body to dead center. He made himself as comfortable as he could. He had not completely lost that wary, wild-animal-lookin'-at-a-trap expression. After all, here he was, in a bedroom, just about naked, and about to be tied to the bed by someone who was not his lover... a lover who was known to have a bit of a temper. Buck had to admit he couldn't blame him. The boy wasn't known for being stupid.
Buck grasped a wrist and enclosed it in the cuff; he followed with the other and stuck Vin's wrists to the sheet. Moving quickly, he pulled off a sock and repeated the procedure with Vin's left leg. He strategically placed Vin's leg on the sheet, then did the same to the right leg, making sure Vin was spread-eagled. He stepped back to admire his toy and watch Vin struggle. He hoped the cuffs would hold, so Plan A really could happen.
"How's it feel?" Buck asked, trying to sound clinical in spite of the hard-on raging in his jeans. Chris had to know what Vin would look like, with that hard, wiry body trussed up and helpless, muscles straining against the bonds, that long hair spread out all over like that. Buck wished for a moment that Vin was a little more "liberal" in his relationship with Chris, because for all the world he wanted to just stand here and jack off at the sight of him.
Vin pulled his wrists against the Velcro and tried to raise his legs. At first, he was tentative, then he began to really twist and struggle, until he fell back panting, but with a slight smile on his lips.
"Well?" Buck sat down on the edge of the bed. "What're you thinkin'? That's a mighty interesting look you for on your face, there, Junior." His eyes drifted down to see the swelling in the front on Vin's shorts.
A slight flush of embarrassment added to the flush from his exertions as Vin admitted, "Just wishin' that instead of you here, it was Chris. No offense." He arched his body against the restraints and slumped back, then said, almost to himself, "'ceptin' Chris ain't into this kinda shit." Once again he wriggled around, concentrating as if it was part of an ATF training exercise instead of ...well ... what it was. "Damn Buck, this stuff really holds you. No way Ezra is gonna get loose." He grinned his approval. "Hope he likes it." He paused as if waiting for Buck to move from where he sat on the edge of the bid. "Might as well set me free."
Buck rose up onto the bed, looming over him with a big grin.
"Think it's worth it, huh?"
Vin nodded. "Come on, let me up, Buck." A flash of something between anger and fear touched Vin's blue eyes. He licked his lips and stared up at Buck. Buck allowed himself to rake Vin's body with his eyes, and saw Vin's expression go carefully neutral. The front of his shorts was back to normal as his body joined his mind in growing panic.
"Damn, you look hot," Buck whispered, then backed off the bed and walked to the bedroom door. "I know somebody who's gonna love this."
"What the hell are you doing, Buck!" Vin yelled, his face reddening with anger. "Get back over here right now, damn you!"
Buck smiled, "Relax Vin, I'll make sure you get out in ..." He looked at his watch, "... about fifteen minutes." Buck gave Vin a two finger salute and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door. He headed for the front room, grabbed his overnight bag and his cell phone and punched in Chris's number.
He kept his voice low. "Chris, it's Buck. Look it's an emergency. Get over here now. Yeah, my place. Vin's here. I put him in my bed. Not real sure, he's just laying there and not moving much ... No, I don't think you need Nathan. No, don't call 9-1-1. It ain't like he's sick or hurt- we were just havin' a friendly beer and well-Just get here, fast. Okay?"
As Vin's curses echoed dimly from the bedroom, Buck turned off the cell phone and walked out his front door, locking it after him. He walked down two doors and across the sidewalk from the front door of his and JD's apartment to the Porters. They were an elderly couple who were on vacation and he had promised to keep an eye on their place; so he knew that he was in a secure surveillance spot to watch. From their lounge chair behind a potted evergreen, he had a clear view-he wasn't foolish enough to leave Vin vulnerable for anyone but Chris to walk in on, no matter how remote the chance. He cracked another beer and kicked back to wait.
+ + + + + + +
Vin Tanner yelled again as he heard the front door close and lock. He fought the bed-a minute before this had been fun, this had been funny, this had been sexy-now this was insane! "Damn you Wilmington, you are dead meat!"
How in the FUCK had he allowed Buck to talk him into this. Who was he going to bring in here?
Feeling sweat running down his spine from struggling, Vin finally relented. He lay concentrating on the Velcro cuffs, slowly increasing his pull, then twisting, and tugging, working until the burn against his skin told him that it was useless. He was going to lose skin and bruise up, and explaining that to Chris might be even tougher than dealing with whoever was about to walk in on him.
He froze as he heard the front door open, then footsteps heading right to the bedroom door. Oh shit. Surely Buck wouldn't send a neighbor lady or a stranger. His panic increased as he heard the voice calling for Buck, then a nano-second later, his panic changed directions and a cascade of conflicting thoughts spilled over him.
Chris?
Chris?
Shit, it's C-CHRISSS! Oh, JeezusHe'sGonnaSeeThis! He'sGonnaThinkMeAndBuck ... What'sHeGonnaDo? ... HowDoIExplainThis ...? Buuuuuck! I"m fuckin' Gonna Kill You! Shit, Chris might kill him. No, Chris is gonna kill me .... OgawdOGawdOGawd....
And all he could do was lay there.
+ + + + + + +
Chris Larabee had opened the front door with his own key when Buck did not answer his knock. The doorbell always irritated Chris-it played the Star Trek theme-and he always knocked instead of pushing the bell. Right now, with something wrong with Vin, he wanted Buck to know it was him right away. When there was no answer, he pounded a couple times, then he let himself in.
"Buck ... where are you?" Where's Vin?" Chris called, as he looked around the apartment, which was not as messy as usual, considering how bad was sometimes. The Center for Disease Control was no idle nickname.
A ripple of apprehension ran through him, and something made him pull his sidearm. Could this be a trap, some kind of revenge by one of the criminals they'd put down over the years? Was Vin the bait? Was Buck a hostage? Were they alive?
Fear lanced through him, catching his breath. His hand tightened on his .45 automatic, his thumb on the safety in case this wasn't trouble in spades.
Buck had said Vin was in bed, so he headed to the bedroom, padding silently down the carpeted corridor, stepping over one of JD's R/C robots built of Legos.
At the door to Buck's room, he listened for a moment and on the other side heard what could only be a soft moan. He was gritting his teeth so hard they ached. His stomach roiled with dread and growing anger at the thought that maybe....
At a strained grunt and another groan-Vin's-Chris swallowed as his mouth went cotton-dry. It sounded like....
Vin wouldn't do that. Buck wouldn't do that. It couldn't be....
Opening the door, he was ill prepared for the sight that greeted him. Vin Tanner, in nothing but the blue briefs Chris had bought him, tied to the bed. No, strapped down.
Velcro-ed to the bed.
Vin's blue eye were wide with horror and embarrassment. "Chris."
Chris stood for a moment, taking it in. Buck's apartment, Buck's bed. Vin stripped to almost nothin', cinched tight and helpless, spread-eagled, ready for fuckin'. By Buck? Then why did he call?
"What are you doin' here?" Vin whispered, his eyes wide and full of fear. When Chris did not answer, Vin said desperately, "Ain't what it looks like."
"What do you think it looks like?" Chris asked him in a deadly, flat voice.
"I -I don 't know-it just ain't what you think."
"And what do you think I think?" Chris's voice was almost a whisper. He moved around the bed, keeping some distance between himself and Vin. He stared hard at the sight of his lover, his best friend, stripped and lying on someone else's bed. Secured there. Immobile. Legs spread.
Vin's head dropped back on the pillow. "Ain't nothin' I can say, is there?"
Chris struggled against the irrational anger and jealousy that threatened him, knowing there was something else happening here. Something he couldn't figure out. Why was Buck doing this? Why did Buck call him if he was trying to cause some trouble between them? And to see Vin strapped to the bed like this. Why did Vin let Buck do this, unless....
What the HELL was Buck up to?
Vin lay like he was expecting Chris to shoot him. It was then that Chris realized he still had his service automatic in his hand. Slowly, he holstered it, still pacing slowly, silently around the room.
Vin was staring at the ceiling now, his throat working in a series of quick swallows as his eyes became glassy bright. His words were a choked whisper. "It just ain't what it looks like."
Chris's cell phone shattered the silence in the darkened bedroom. He drew it as quickly as he could pull a gun. "Larabee."
"Left you a surprise, ol' pard. Thought you might like a little excitement in your life." It was Buck. "I'll be at Ezra's 'til tomorrow. We're havin' a gourmet dinner. Have a real good time." He hung up laughing. Chris stared at the phone as everything clicked.
It was a trap, all right. And a damned sneaky one at that.
The sound of a vehicle starting up in the parking area behind the apartment made Chris peek through the drawn drapes. Buck's battered pickup was just backing out. He'd probably been waiting for Chris and watching until he went inside. At least he had not left Vin unprotected, helpless and vulnerable as he was. Score one for Buck.
Chris heard the sound of Vin struggling again and turned to rake the writhing body with his gaze.
Helpless and vulnerable. Score a hundred points for Buck.
Chris's expression slid into a wolfish grin and he moved around the room toward the door.
Vin made a strained, frustrated sound and slumped back on the bed again. "You ain't leavin' me-?" The panic was almost palpable.
Chris moved out into the hallway to the sound of Vin's anguished, "Chris, don't go."
As soon as he was out of sight, Chris bolted for the front door at a dead run, threw the deadbolt and latched the chain. He was into the kitchen in a couple more steps, opening the fridge and snagging a couple of cold beers. He checked the back door-locked. He figured Buck for having plenty of any other "supplies" he was going to need, probably in the bedstand. Next stop was the linen closet in the hall, and a couple of towels. At the sound of the linen closet door closing, he heard Vin again.
"At least let me up before you go-"
Chris collected himself before he re-entered the bedroom again, though walking had suddenly become a little more difficult. It revealed his sudden, aching need to crawl up on that bed and claim what was waiting for him.
Helpless and vulnerable.
Casually, he walked into the bedroom again, towels and beer in hand. He set them on the nightstand. At the sound of the bedroom door closing, Vin turned his head to stare at Chris, watching him like the trapped animal that he was. Chris allowed himself a slight smile as he turned to once again look at Vin, sprawled on the bed, sweating in spite of the comfortable coolness of the air-conditioned bedroom.
Vin watched Chris's return to the room with relief that was immediately tempered by a surge of uncertainly. He carried a couple of towels and two bottles of beer. His expression was the one he used all the time at work, the "don't fuck with me" face.
The expression on Chris's face made Vin sweat. "Chris, how did you...? Buck .... You gotta listen." The words died as Vin watched Chris's expression change.
Stalking forward, Chris began to unbutton his gray shirt. Taking it off, he dropped it to the floor. He unsnapped his cell phone and turned it off before he set it on the dresser. He unclipped his holster and set it and his wallet beside the cell phone. Without a word, he pulled his belt from his black pants and stepped closer to the bed.
Chris was acting funny and it was making Vin nervous. He ought to be mad, he ought to be yelling, he ought to be saying something.
"Chris, you gonna undo these damn cuffs?" Vin managed to rasp out.
"Don't think so, Tanner." Eyeing up Vin, Chris ran the leather belt through his hands, flexing it a little. Vin's eyes widened and they fixed on the leather belt. Chris toyed with it another moment, letting it swing loosely in his hand, before he let it drop to the carpet.
Relieved, Vin let out the breath he realized he had been holding.
Not sure where Chris was going, Vin swallowed before trying again. "You ain't gonna undo these?" Vin emphasized his point by trying to pull his wrists off the bed.
Chris smiled, and started to unbutton his pants. "Nope."
Distracted by Chris sliding his tight black jeans over his hips, Vin licked his lips. "Uh ... Cowboy, what ... what are you gonna do?"
"What do you want me to do, Vin?" Chris asked he dropped his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them without moving his eyes from Vin. A shock of shaggy blond hair fell over his forehead, and suddenly the stern ATF supervising agent was gone and in his place was the bad cowboy that Vin Tanner had fallen hard for all those months ago. Looking back at him was just the kind of trouble he wanted to get into, and wanted to get into him.
The sight of Chris's hard, naked body sent waves of desire through Vin and his bravado surfaced. "I can think of a few things, if you're interested." Vin raked his eyes over the bulge in Chris's underwear.
"Good." Chris took a step closer to the bed, and tugged down his snug black skivvies, revealing what the heavy pouch had promised-his thick, meaty shaft was hard and ready. He moved with cat-like grace on top of Vin, straddling him. As Chris mounted him, his rigid member bobbed and slapped against Vin's flat belly. "'Cause you'd best be prepared to do 'em all."
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