Backroom Blow

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"It's just...well..." Roger began.

"Roger!" Freddie exclaimed. "Just spit it out!"

"I...I just miss you, that's all," Roger said sheepishly.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Roger," Freddie admonished. "You can't miss me when I'm right here."

"You...you know what I mean..." Roger said sadly.

Indeed, Freddie knew exactly what he meant, because he felt the exact same way.

"Come here..." Freddie said gently.  He hated to see Roger looking so sad.

Roger crossed the room, unsure of himself.

Freddie held out his arms to Roger, and Roger simply melted into them. It felt like home. He felt Freddie's powerful arms around him, and heard his heart beating loudly in his chest.  Roger sighed in content.

Freddie started tearing up, but he couldn't let the drummer know.

"All right, Roger," he said, clearing his voice and disengaging himself. "Better now?"

But Roger didn't move.  He still clung to Freddie.

"You smell so good, Freddie..." Roger breathed onto his neck.

"Roger," Freddie protested. "Don't..."

"I can't help it," Roger said, kissing Freddie's neck. "I get turned on just looking at you..."

"Roger, please..." Freddie said breathlessly. "We can't do this..."

But there was no use. He was just as turned on as the drummer.

"Yes we can," Roger said huskily, taking control.  "I know you want me..."

He gently pushed Freddie into the back room, where no one would see them.  Once inside, Roger locked the door and went straight for Freddie's belt, quickly undoing it, and pulling Freddie's throbbing cock out.  Roger quickly sank to his knees, his tongue circling the circumference of Freddie's big cockhead.

"Fuck, Roger..." Freddie moaned, turning Roger on even more.

Roger's tongue was so soft and pink, just the way Freddie remembered it.

Roger sucked him in deeper, mewling like a hungry kitten...

**************************************************************************************

John realized he'd forgotten one of his tapes at the studio, and since he had an apartment nearby, he popped in to pick it up.  He was searching around looking for it when he heard some noises one wouldn't normally hear in a recording studio.  His curiosity got the best of him, and he went to investigate. The sound seemed to be coming from the back room. There was no mistaking what the sounds were--they were moans of pleasure.  More specifically, Freddie's moans of pleasure...

"Oh God, Roger, fuck..." Freddie said, his voice trembling. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum..."

"Mmmm..." Roger approved.

John stood at the door, listening.  He knew he should just leave, but he was fascinated--and incredibly turned on.  What he wouldn't give to be able to actually see what was going on in there, instead of just listening. He could picture Roger's tongue all over Freddie's thick cock in his mind.  He felt so ashamed standing outside the door and listening like a desperate pervert, but he just couldn't walk away.   He unconsciously began rubbing his own hard cock through his pants.

Roger could tell by Freddie's moans that Freddie was close, so he bobbed his head faster.  And then he looked up at Freddie innocently with those baby blues and opened his mouth suggestively, knowing how that drove Freddie crazy.

"Fuck...baby, I'm cumming..." Freddie cried before shooting his load onto Roger's waiting tongue as Roger maintained eye contact.

John stood outside the door, closing his eyes and imagining he was the one pleasuring Freddie.  Oh, how he longed to know how he felt...and how he tasted...

Overcome with intense arousal, he rushed into the bathroom, pulling his painfully hard cock out.  He only had to stroke it a few times before he doubled over in his own intense orgasm.  

After he recovered, he was horrified to see he'd cum all over the wall and floor. 

"I should've never come back to the studio," he said to himself.  He should be at home right now, tucking his kids in and reading them bedtime stories.  He felt awful.  But he had to get out of there before anyone--especially Freddie or Roger--saw him.

To make himself feel better, he told himself it was all Freddie's fault.  After all, in all these years, Freddie was the only man he had ever even remotely had sexual feelings for.  All these years, he had loved him from afar.  Freddie was just such a lush, sexual creature, anyone would have those kinds of feelings, he reasoned.  But he would have to continue to bottle his feelings up.  He just couldn't jeopardize his friendship with Freddie or his family life.  It was just too risky.

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