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“Now, you wouldn’t start without me, would you?” Zolf’s voice comes from the door. Cel freezes, hands on Oscar’s waist and lips inches from his.
“Of course not, Mister Smith,” Cel says, leaning back from Oscar and sitting carefully on the bed. Oscar looks over at them and smiles. “We were just- uh, just keeping each other company! Yeah, we were bored and decided to- to-”
“To talk,” Oscar finishes for them.
“Didn’t look like you were doin’ much talking,” Zolf grumbles, coming in and taking a seat in the plush armchair on the other side of the room. Cel looks quickly around the room, at anything but Zolf and Oscar, waiting for one of them to speak. It’s Zolf who breaks the silence. “Well, I’m here now. Get on with it, then.”
The words spring Cel into action and they immediately take the same position they were in before: hands on Oscar’s waist, lips encroaching on his. This time, they don’t get interrupted. Their lips meet gently in the middle, Oscar’s plush lips parting easily for Cel’s tongue to slip inside. His hands end up in their hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. Cel groans into his mouth when he pulls on it and they feel him smile against their lips.
“Cel,” Zolf calls, almost absentmindedly.
“Yes, Mister Smith?” Cel asks, pulling back from Oscar’s mouth just long enough to get the words out. The hand in their hair tugs again and they whimper.
“You’re in charge tonight. Well- I’m in charge, but you’re in charge of Oscar. Got that?” Cel nods as best as they can with Oscar’s hand still tangled in their hair. “You gonna do what I say?” Cel nods again. “Words, Cel.”
“Yes, Mister Smith.”
“Good. Take Oscar’s hand out of your hair.”
Cel reaches up, grasping Oscar’s hand in theirs and gently untangles it from their hair, placing it instead on their shoulder.
“Good job, Cel,” Zolf says with a nod. A shiver, quick and sharp, runs down Cel’s spine at his praise.
Cel spends a few minutes just kissing Oscar. alternating between his mouth and his neck. It's soft and slow and sweet, and they can feel themselves easily getting lost in the feeling of his skin on their lips.
"Touch his nipples," Zolf calls, and Cel nearly jumps. He'd been so quiet for so long, watching them like that, and they'd forgotten what he was doing there. they look over at him and smile before turning their attention back to Oscar. Oscar stares up at them, a silent plea in his eyes.
"Yes, Mister Smith," they say, and they reach down towards Oscar’s chest. they take a single, pink nipple between their fingers and give it the slightest pinch, and wilde nearly arches completely off the bed. "Harder," they hear Zolf say, nonchalant. They increase the pressure of their fingers and Oscar cries out.
"Cel, fuck, gods, oh-"
Cel hears Zolf's laugh. "Oh good job, Cel."
Cel continues to work Oscar’s chest, swapping between nipples when one seems to become oversensitive. They can feel him shake under their ministrations, and they ache to get their hands and their mouth between his legs.
“Do you want to eat him out, Cel?” Zolf asks, and when Cel looks over at him he’s smirking.
“Yes, gods, please.” It’s not Cel that speaks. Wilde’s voice comes out in a high pitched whine, and a sharp look from Zolf cuts him off.
“I was talking to Cel,” he says, and Wilde freezes. “Cel? Would you like to?”
“Yes,” they say, breathless. “So much, Mister Smith, please.”
Zolf nods, a short, curt nod, and Cel takes it and runs before he can change his mind. They shove Oscar backwards onto the bed and remove his trousers and pants in one smooth, quick motion. Their mouth goes directly to his clit, licking and sucking like their life depends on it, fingers pressing gently at his entrance.
“Gorgeous, Cel. Look at the two of you. I could watch this forever.”
Cel moans into Oscar’s cunt, slips a finger in, and Oscar comes. His legs tighten and his body shakes as Cel works him through it. They wait until his hips jerk with the oversensitivity before pulling their fingers out and leaning back, a dazed smile on their face. They look over at Zolf and find him smiling. He lifts a finger and beckons Cel over to him. They go happily, kneeling between his legs and sighing contentedly as he runs his fingers through their hair.
“You did so good,” he says, hand placed gently on top of their head. “Perfect, even.” Cel bites their lip to hold back a groan as Zolf’s free hand trails from their chin to their neck to their chest, finger brushing purposefully over a nipple. “I think you’ve earned a reward, hm?”
Cel nods, lip still clenched between their teeth.
“Oscar?” Zolf calls, and Oscar’s head perks up. “It’s your turn.”