Okay, so I know I'm being bad by neglecting my other two stories that I'm working on, but I just can't help myself with this one. I just saw Reservoir Dogs for the first time in my Indie Film class, and I'm hooked! Plus, as a writer of neglected and obscure fandoms/pairings, I feel that I would be disserving my audience if I didn't contribute at least one smutty slash fic to Quintin Tarantino's masterpiece.

Alright, here it is. Enjoy!

PAIRING: Mr. Blonde, aka Vic Vega/Nice Guy Eddie Cabot.

WARNINGS: slash, lemon, anal, oral, crude/cliché dialogue, dirty talk (like, really dirty talk), slight exhibitionism, vague mentions of prison rape (nothing graphic, though), and whatever the fuck else I wanna write about. ALSO, this story is unbeta'd, so any typos or grammatical errors are my own damn fault. Feel free to let me know if you catch one, and if I ever remember to get to it, I'll fix it.

DISCLAIMER: Does the film end with a Mr. White-Mr. Orange-Mr. Blonde sandwich? No. So obviously, I don't own it.

**Comment on your way out! If I get enough comments, I may be persuaded to write a sequel to this story, or perhaps a new story with another pairing from the Reservoir Dogs cannon ;). But only if I get sufficient reviews and requests.

Sadistic Bastard

Eddie cursed under his breath as he searched through his father's papers for last month's credit card statement. He had splurged on some…personal things, and he didn't want his Daddy to know about them. He always got his statements on the fourteenth or fifteenth of the month, but he usually let them sit around a few days before he got around to dealing with them. So, whenever Eddie decided to run off to a strip club or porn shop with the family gold card, all he ever had to do was sneak into Daddy's office, grab the bill, and get it taken care of (with his father's money, of course). That way, not only did he prevent his father from seeing the astronomical tabs he racked up for himself on gin, lap dances, and Playboy magazines, but he also got to look like he was doing the old man a favor, by taking care of the bills for him.

But now here he was, on the sixteenth of April, and still there was no statement to be found. He had checked everyday for the last three days, and still nothing to be found.

'Maybe the bill's just late,' he thought to himself as he began to rifle through the desk drawers. 'Nah, that can't be it. The bank wouldn't dare keep Daddy waiting…. Maybe it just got lost in the mail—'

"Looking for something?"

Nice Guy jumped nearly out of his track pants at the sudden, but instantly recognizable, voice of his unannounced intruder. Gripping at his chest through the v-cut of his purple button-down shirt, Nice Guy Eddie stared daggers at Vic Vega, who was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe with his arms crossed over in front of his white muscle shirt-clad chest.

"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ, Toothpick, put a damn bell around ya' neck," Eddie panted, his heart rate slowly coming back down. "Ya damn near gave me a heart attack." Vic's perpetual half-smile stretched into a full-mouthed grin as he pushed himself off of the doorframe, arms still crossed.

"So so sorry," he said, taking a couple of slow steps toward Eddie. "I was just stopping by, when I heard you in here, shuffling about like a little doggy, and I thought to myself, 'What could good ol' Nice Guy possibly be doing in his Daddy's office while the old man is out on business?'"

"Well, that ain't none of ya' fuckin' business, is it?" Eddie snapped back loudly, even though his face was cracking into an ear-splitting grin. He walked around the desk and straight up to the tall gangster, and the two old friends embraced each other in a firm, brotherly hug.

"It's good to see ya, Toothpick," Eddie said, pulling away from Vic but leaving a hand clapped on his shoulder blade. "I know you were just here a couple a days ago, but it's still just really great to see you."

"You too, Eddie," Vic agreed, reaching up and tousling the ginger's curly hair.

"'Ey, 'ey, watch the 'do," Nice Guy protested, batting the taller man's hand away and smoothing his gelled locks back into place. "Didn't prison teach you nuttin' about manners?"

"No, but they taught me a few other things," Vic said in a mock-threatening tone, leering down at the Bossman's son.

"Yeah, like what?" Nice Guy laughed. "Like how ta' wax yer anus with nuttin' but a lighter and a stick of Laffy Taffy?"

"No, like how to teach prissy little fairies like yourself to keep their mouths shut, unless they're putting it to good use," Vic quipped right back.

"Please, after all those pathetic little pencil-dick tweekers, you've gotta be starved for some real man-meat," Eddie smirked, gesturing to himself.

"Yeah right," Vic scoffed coolly. "Even if I was a faggot, I could totally get way hotter pieces of ass than you."

"And is that speaking from experience, or are you just that cock-y?" Eddie asked, mentally patting himself on the back for his little pun.

"Better watch it, Eddie—"

"I mean, really, it's cool if yer' a homo and all, what you do wit' ya' butthole is ya'rown fuckin' business," Nice Guy said, walking back around the desk to resume his search for the credit card statement.

"Oh you mean like it's your own business, what you buy with your Daddy's credit card?"

Eddie froze, then looked up from the pile of envelopes he was sifting through. "How do you—?"

"Aww, come on, Eddie-Boy," Vic said tauntingly, his grin getting even wider, "We've known each other since we were, what? Five? Six? You think I've never seen you going through Joe's wallet and sneaking out the back door? You think I've never found the receipts for the strip joints and the sex shops in your coat pockets?" His voice got deeper, more menacing. "You think I've never intercepted your Daddy's credit card statements?" With that, he pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope that had been ripped rather carelessly along the side, and dangled it over the desk, about three inches away from Nice Guy's face. Instantly understanding what the envelope was, Eddie lunged for it. Laughing, Vic snatched it back and raised it up out of the Cabot son's reach.

"Give me that fuckin' envelope," Eddie demanded, scowling at the smiling Vega before him.

"No, I don't think I will," Vic replied casually, ripping the envelope completely off of the papers with in and unfolding them slowly. "Hmm, let's see here…"

"Don't fuckin' read it!" Eddie half-demanded, half-begged, trying (and failing) once more to snatch the damning statement out of his sadistic friend's hands. Not that it really mattered anyway. By the looks of the envelope, Vic had already torn through the contents of that statement, and he seemed only to be here to torture him mercilessly for them.

"Twenty-three hundred dollars at the Bellagio Casino and Resort," Vic read in mock-disbelief. "Did you even win anything?" He looked up at Eddie, who said nothing. "I think we both know you can't gamble for shit."

"C'mon, man, stop fuckin' around—"

"Ooh, another thousand at that titty bar down the street from the casino, fifteen hundred at the Stop-n-Shop Liquor store—"

"Please, you don't understand, Daddy'll kill me if he—"

"Oh, and what's this?" Vic exclaimed in mock-surprise.

"Vic, don't," Nice Guy mumbled, casting his eyes down in shame. "Please…"

"Thirty-four hundred dollars at the 'Musk Hut?' Now, if I'm not mistaken—and you know, I could be mistaken—I believe I recall that to be the name of one of Vegas' finest male strip joints. Tut, tut, tut, well how about that?"

Nice Guy finally managed to snatch the statement out of Toothpick's hands (that, or Toothpick finally let him do so). Not that it mattered at this point, anyway. Vic had just read all of his darkest, most private vices out loud to him, like it was fucking story time at the downtown library. Vic grinned smugly down at the flustered tubby man before him, who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"There, now you've got your petty fuckin' laugh, ya sadistic fuckin' bastard," Eddie growled, refusing to look his childhood friend in the eyes. "You've got me cornered. Nice Guy Eddie Cabot's a pervy fuckin' fag." Vic's smug grin grew further. "What are you gonna do, blackmail me? We've already hooked you up with a fake job where you ain't gotta do shit, a nice apartment, a chance to take part in the heist of the century…. What more do you want from us? From me?"

Vic bored deeply into Nice Guy's eyes with his piercingly calculating gaze, making the haughty ginger's defiant scowl diminish slightly.

Then he laughed.

"Jesus, Eddie-Boy, look at your face right now! I ain't looking to extort you or your dad or nothin'. Your family's been good to m, and I don't have anything against your old man."

Eddie relaxed slightly.

"Then again…"

Eddie tensed back up again.

"Your little comments about me fuckin' guys in prison are starting to get a little old."

"Oh come on, Toothpick, you know I was just—"

"And, I can't help but think whenever you take it on yourself to make those little comments, that you don't really know what it's like to be surrounded by horny killers, niggers, and tweekers, all wantin' a piece of you—your ass, your cock, your sanity." Vic began to walk slowly toward the desk, then around it. "And, I can't help but think that maybe I oughta show you what it's like, give you some first-hand experience."

By this point, Vic had backed Eddie into his father's fancy leather desk chair. He leaned forward, propping himself up by his arms on the armrests and leaning into his hostage's face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you—" Eddie choked, peering wide-eyed up at the man hovering ominously above him. "What are you gonna do?"

"I think I'm going to make you my bitch," Vic answered bluntly, sending Eddie into a fit of coughs.

"What the fuck makes you think—"

"I think that the thought of me mentioning all these charges to your Daddy might persuade you," Vic said huskily, leaning in and pressing his nose and mouth against Nice Guy's thick jugular. He inhaled deeply, taking in the strong mix of musk, cigarette smoke, and Polo Ralph Lauren cologne that made up the Cabot son's scent, which made a shiver shoot up the plump man's spine.

"I thought you said you weren't gonna extort me," Nice Guy said lamely.

"Yeah. I changed my mind."

"Why the fuck are you doing this to me?" Eddie whined, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end as Vick brushed his lips ticklingly over his hot skin.

"You really wanna know?" Vick asked, pulling back just enough to look Nice Guy in the face, which made their noses bump together for their closeness. "Before I went to prison, I never woulda even though about fuckin' no guys. But four years'll change a man. I ain't nobody's bitch, but I got to where I could fuck a guy without pretending he was a chick. Hell, I got to where I could jerk off, thinking about guys—other guys in the joint, guys I've pulled jobs with before I got locked up. One time, I jerked off thinking about that gay-ass rape scene in Pulp Fiction. You know, the one with the pommel horse? Anyway, I came so hard, I—ehem, I'm getting off topic. What I'm trying to say is that the number one fantasies that stopped me from turning my fucking bed sheets into a noose was the ones about you."

Eddie felt his heart leap up into his throat. "So, you're saying…"

"I'm saying that by the end of my second year in prison, I was coming every night to the thought of your face, your chest hair, your beer gut. I though I'd get over it once I got out off the slammer and into a nice, hot pussy. But even now that I'm out, all I want to do is fuck a hot, tight manly asshole. I want strong, hairy legs squeezing my waist, and I want a hairy cock and balls in front of me to play with. Mostly, I want your cock and balls, your asshole." Vic nuzzled back into the shocked redhead's neck, kissing and nipping it between words. "So don't—" Kiss. "—try and fight." Nip. "You know you wanna—" Slurp. "let me fuck you."

Eddie shuddered and shivered as hot shots of pleasure bolted down from the point on his neck that Vick was sucking on and straight down to his cock. He could feel it lengthening and hardening in his clean new tighty-whities as it stretched out the cotton fabric until it formed a sizable tent. He groaned as the soft material rubbed against the swollen head of his dick.

"Toothpick," he groaned uncontrollably, placing his hands on top of Vic's, which were still propped up on the armrests.

"Yeah, bitch, moan for me," Vic murmured hotly against his neck, moving to straddle his victim on the plush chair. However, the chair began to creak and mown with their combined weight before Vic could even get both knees up. Nice Guy cursed and pushed the taller man off of him.

"Whoa whoa, watch it! This chair ain't made for two grown-ass men ta be in at once," he said, trying not to blush at the obvious bulge in his track pants, which was fully exposed to the ex-convict standing before him.

"So?" Vic said dismissively, moving to climb back onto the youngest Cabot.

"So," Eddie argued, pressing the overpowering man away from him once more, "So, I ain't gonna let you climb all over me like I'm fuckin' Santa Claus at the strip mall. What am I s'posed to say to Daddy when he comes home and finds his priceless antique desk chair in tiny little pieces all over tha ground?"

"Tell him you were being a naughty little bitch," Vic quipped, yet again placing his knee on the edge of the seat in an effort to climb on top of Nice Guy.

"Vic, fuckin' cut it out!" the ginger shouted in frustration. Vic paused with one knee still poised on the seat and looked calculatingly down at his friend. Damnit, why did he always have to be so fucking cool in these kinds of situations? Meanwhile, Eddie here was already starting to sweat from the exertion of fighting off the buff Vega brother. Not to mention the fact that the knee propped up on his chair was causing Vic's taut inner thigh to rub against his soft outer thigh.

"Look, can't, can't we just move somewhere else?" Eddie pleaded.

"No," Vic answered with that goddamn, fucking smile of his.

"Oh, come on, man, why not?" Eddie whined.

"Cus I know you, Eddie-Boy," Vic answered, reaching up and toying with the gold chain around Eddie's stocky neck. "I know that if we leave, here, you'll try and run away or talk me out of fuckin' you, try to bribe me or some whit. You'll pussy out and run, like the little bitch you are."

"I ain't no one's bitch!" Eddie growled, swatting Vic's hand away from his necklace.

"Yes you are," Toothpick answered. "You're my bitch. And you need to be taught to keep your fuckin' mouth shut." With that, Vic lunged forward and slammed his smugly grinning lips against the soft, pouting ones of Nice Guy Eddie. Eddie yelped out in surprise and a little bit of pain as their teeth knocked uncomfortably together upon impact, but otherwise remained fairly motionless as Vic Vega initiated—stole, really—his first real kiss with a man. True to form, Vic took his time with the kiss, pacing it as he damn well pleased. He started out simply by rubbing his soft but firm lips against Eddie's still shock-frozen ones. Then, when he was good and ready, he snaked his tongue out and swiped it along his bottom lip, his top lip, and finally in between the two, slithering along the alarmingly white teeth beneath. Then he sucked Eddie's bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on it like it was a piece of salt water taffy that he wanted to last for hours. Eddie released a strangled moan and let his mouth hang slightly open, his bottom teeth grazing Vic's upper lip as the man worked.

"Mmm-Bvic—" Eddie groaned pleadingly, which Vic ignored. Finally, at long last, Eddie poked out his long, snakey tongue and let it graze timidly over Vic's top lip. The instant he felt the redhead respond to his ministrations, Vic released Eddie's bottom lip and delved down to cover his mouth once again with his own, forcefully pushing his tongue past the tiny crack of Nice Guy's teeth and into the hot wet cavern of his mouth. He massaged the Cabot son's tongue enthusiastically with this own, forcing him to release a muffled groan and reciprocate the movements.

"Vic," Eddie moaned, parting their wet, puffy lips with a slobbery squelch. He ran his meaty hands up the taller man's arms, over his broad shoulders, and up his thick neck, finally stopping to grip and tug at Toothpick's hair. Vic growled at the feeling and started nipping once again at Eddie's lips, then his cheek, followed by his jaw, finishing at his neck. Eddie groaned at Vic's little love-bites got harder and harder, until he yelped out in surprise and pain as the youngest Vega brother sunk his teeth deep and hard into his collarbone, hard enough to draw a little blood.

"Damnit Toothpick, dat hurt!" Nice Guy yelled, but then whimpered as his attacker began to lick the freshly inflicted wound with the flat surface of this tongue. "Ugh, Vic, can't we please just get out of here?"

"No," Vic said shortly before latching onto Eddie's injured collarbone and sucking, hard.

"Ahh! Well, can't we at least move this onto the desk or somethin'? Please!" Vic paused and thought about Nice Guy's request. Sure, he'd fantasized about fucking Eddie's tight virgin hole in "Daddy's" chair while he was in prison, and the thought of it alone was enough to make him jerk off so hard, he thought he was going to rip his own dick off. But the chair was older and ricketier than he remembered it being, and crouching down over Eddie like this was making his neck and arms sore. And fucking Eddie was his main concern, regardless of where it happened. Besides, the thought of having Eddie writhe around on top of his Daddy's paperwork while Vic drove his cock relentlessly in and out of his tight, shuddering hole was starting to sound extremely appealing.

"Alright, Eddie-Boy," Vic said, "let's fuck on your Daddy's desk." Eddie had a look of uneasy relief as he moved to get out fo the chair. But Vic pushed him down and pressed his hot lips against the Cabot's ear and whispered, "But only cus you beg so pretty, my little bitch." With that, he reached around Eddie's lower back and hoisted the large man up, who in turn yelped out in surprise and wrapped his thick legs around Vic's taut abdomen, which caused his erection to press hard into his flat abs. he then slammed Eddie butt-first onto the edge of the desk and latched his teeth back onto the burly man's neck, firmly pressing his hot groin against the redhead's.

"Christ, Toothpick, don't do dat kind of shit to me!" Eddie protested, even as he wrapped his arms tightly around his neck and spread his dangling legs wide to accommodate the man between them. "I ain't some skinny broad ya picked up offa the street."

"So?" Vic asked against his neck, running his hands up and down Eddie's soft, pliant sides. He then moved his hands down onto his thighs, which he grabbed onto for leverage as he began to lightly thrust his hard cock against Eddie's. Eddie let out a surprised moan at the sudden contact on his neglected erection, wrapping his arms still tighter around Toothpick's neck and thrusting back in time with his.

"So I ain't easy to just pick up and throw around," Eddie gritted out, trying to sound casual and not at all insecure. "I'm kind of a big guy."

"Yeah, so?" Vic reiterated. "If I wanted to fuck some skinny bimbo, I'd be doin' it right now. But I don't want a skinny bimbo right now. I want your fat hairy ass. And if I wanna pick up your fat hairy ass and put it on the desk so I can fuck you on it, I'm damn well gonna."

Eddie began to retort back, but instead let out a strangled moan as Vic snapped his hips forward in a particularly hard thrust. Eddie could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he felt Vic's fat, long tool grinding into his. Without even seeing it, he could tell it was going to be a fucking beast of a cock.

"So I finally figured out how to shut you up," toothpick growled, running his hands up Nice Guy's body till he reached the top button of the ginger's shirt. He then ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying every which way.

"'Ey!" Eddie shouted in protest. "My father bought me dat shirt!"

"Well, I hate that shirt," Vic said dismissively, pulling the offending garment off of his shoulders and throwing it into the floor. He then pushed Eddie down onto his back on the desk and started undoing the knot on the ginger's track pants. Eddie gulped back a groan as he felt Toothpick's fingers grazing nimbly over his crotch, then sighed as he slid the fabric down and off, and his cock sprang out from its confines.

"Damn, Eddie, you're packin' some real heat in here," Vic said approvingly, rubbing his pointer finger up and down the rigid, leaking shaft.

"Uhn, show me yours now," Eddie grunted, staring hungrily down at the massive tent in Vic's black slacks.

"You wanna see the fat cock that's gonna be ramming your prostate all night, till you cream?" Vic asked, fingers inching toward his black leather belt.

"Yesss," Nice Guy hissed, rubbing his fingers enticingly over his hairy chest and intentionally neglecting his weeping cock. Toothpick stepped back and grinned ferally as he unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his fly. Immediately, his cock sprang forth from the V, revealing that the youngest Vega brother wasn't wearing any underwear. Eddie stared wide-eyed as Vic wrapped his long, agile fingers around his monstrous cock and began to stroke it slowly and deliberately. He was teasing the youngest Cabot, putting on a show for him. Well, two could play at that game. Eddie wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in time with Vic's own movements. Vic stared hungrily down at Eddie's hand as it moved smoothly over the hot flesh of his erect penis, then returned back to his position between his legs, swatting his hand away to grasp the cock with his own. Eddie grunted in pleasure as he felt the taller man's warm fingers wrap around his flesh and begin to rub up and down, swiping his thumb over the head with every upstroke.

"Uhnn, yeahhh, Vickyyy," Eddie groaned, snapping his hips ups to meet Vic's downward thrusts. Vic chuckled at the pet name and quickened his hand on the redhead's shaft, unconsciously thrusting his own cock into the soft, pliable skin of his thigh. Upon feeling this, Eddie reached down and wrapped his own hand around the immense rod of flesh that was rubbing against his skin and fisted it in time with the hand on his own. Vic released a surprised grunt, which made Eddie grin triumphantly. Vic growled and attacked Eddie's lips with his own, thrusting his tongue deep into the cavern of his mouth. The two tangled their tongues almost violently, until their kiss digressed into mere gnashing of teeth and lips against teeth and lips. At long last, Vic tore his lips away from Nice Guy's with a growl.

"Spread your legs wider," he demanded huskily, his eyes boring holes into Eddie's. Eddie complied silently, panting in pleasure as he spread them as wide as he could, resting his feet on the desk drawer handles. "God, you look so fuckin' slutty right now, Eddie. You know that? All red and panting, like a doggie-bitch in heat. You want me to fuck you like you're a bitch in heat, Eddie? Huh? Do you?" Eddie nodded fervently, closing his eyes tightly and biting his lip so hard it began to bleed. "Then suck on my fingers till they're soaked, or else this is gonna hurt like a bitch for you." With that, Vic brought three nimble fingers up to Eddie's swollen, bloody lips, which parted to allow them access. Meanwhile, Vic used his other hand to wrap both his and Eddie's cocks together and began thrusting slowly against him. Eddie groaned around the fingers and sucked on them, rubbing his wet tongue over the appendages until they were coated thickly with saliva. He then released them with a pop and leaned his hips slightly back to reveal his asscrack to Vic. Vic released their cocks and brought his saliva-slicked pointer finger to Eddie's perineum, petting it slightly and sending the redhead into a fit of spasms.

"Stop fuckin' teasin' me, Toothpick," Eddie begged, unable to look his childhood friend in the eyes. Vic chuckled and pierced the redhead's pucker with two fingers in one fluid motion, burying them to the knuckle and bringing out a strangled cry of uncomfortable pleasure.

"Guhhh! Jesus, Toothpick!" Eddie exclaimed, writhing and thrusting as the long, thin fingers hooked this way and that, finally scraping squarely over his prostate. "Shit, there, right there!" Vic smirked and rubbed his fingers incessantly over Eddie's pleasure spot, scissoring and stretching as he did so.

"You've had something up here before, haven't you?" Vic asked, adding his third finger and twisting them in uncomfortable angles.

"Yeahhh," Eddie said, throwing his head back and thrusting down onto Toothpick's fingers. He reached down and wrapped his fist back around the taller man's cock, pumping it slowly, but roughly.

"You been fucked by other guys?" Vic asked huskily, before leaning forward and latching his lips around Nice Guy's left nipple.

"Ahh! No, just—uhhhhnnn—just my fingers and, and a dildo. Ain't nearly as big as your meat, though," Eddie answered, running his free hand through Vic's hair and gripping it tight as the ex-convict sucked loudly and wetly at his nipple.

"Good," Vic growled, ripping his fingers out of Eddie's quivering hole and eliciting a moan of protest. "Suck my cock, bitch, and get me wet for your hole." Eddie slid off of the desk and fell to his knees before the gorgeous prick between Vic's legs. He then grabbed hold of the thick base and appraised it. It was fairly uniform in width from base to tip, and it curved up toward Vic's belly button. The mushroom head was bulbous and swollen, so read it was nearly purple. It was leaking a steady stream of precome, which was beginning to run down the side of the veiny shaft. Moaning, Eddie leaned forward and wrapped his puffy lips around the engorged head of the cock, pressing forward until it slid down the back of his throat and his nose was pressed firmly against Vic's dark, musky pubes.

"Shit, Eddie…" Vic grunted in surprise as the redhead swallowed around the head of his cock. Eddie internally whooped at the way Vic's thighs began to shudder in his effort not to just fuck Eddie's throat till he shot his load. Sure, he'd never let a man up his ass before, but Eddie was no stranger to the art of the blowjob. He fondly remembered his days in middle school and high school, when he would secretly service his father's clients and employees for extra cash in the second floor broom closet. He was abruptly brought out of his reverie when Vic violently pulled him off of his cock by his hair, making him cough and sputter.

"Alright, bitch, I'm gonna fuck you raw now," Vic growled, pulling him upright by his hair. "Bend over the desk, let me look at your asshole." Eddie complied, bending his torso over until his belly and nipples were lying on the desk and spreading his legs. He reached back and parted his plump asscheeks, revealing his tight little asshole to the panting man behind him. Vic bend forward and licked the hole with his tongue, then wriggled it in past the tight ring of the sphincter. Eddie yelped out in surprise and pleasure as Vic added an extra coat of saliva and teased the inner walls of his hole. Then, pulling back with a squishy sound, Vic grabbed a hold of his cock and pressed the blunt head against the slobber-dripping asshole before him.

"God, you're so fucking sexy right now," Vic groaned, smearing his precome around the hole to further lubricate his entrance. He then quickly pushed his hips forward, piercing Nice Guy's bottom to the hilt in one rough thrust. The sound of Vic's cut hips slapping against the soft mounds of Eddie's ass resonated in the room as he remained motionless to allow Eddie a chance to adjust. Eddie panted and moaned as the hot, thick flesh throbbed against his prostate.

"Fuckin' move, you faggot," he growled back at Toothpick who was only too happy to comply. Vic grasped Eddie's wide hips and began to thrust forward while simultaneously pulling Eddie back to meet his thrusts. Eddie groaned and let Vic take the lead, overwhelmed by the feeling of his best friend's flesh thrusting into him.

Vic slid his hands up Eddie's hips and sides, then smoothed then over his squishy stomach and up to his pert nipples, kneading the soft skin as he went. The action made Vic lean over until his chest lay flush against Nice Guy's back. He started kissing and licking the expanse of back before him, sending shivers up Eddie's spine as he did so.

"Jesus, Vic," Eddie grunted, clenching his teeth at the painful pleasure of his friend's cock tearing its way into his asshole, over and over again. Vic was relentless, thrusting hard and deep and nailing the shit out of his prostate with damn near every thrust. No way could his dildo even begin to compare to the feeling of Vic's pulsing meat. Sure, he had just got the damn thing a few weeks ago (along with a decoy teddy and five pairs of decoy crotchless panties—he didn't want the lady at the counter to think he was gonna use it on himself, did he?), and he'd only gotten the guts to actually use it a few days ago. Yeah, it felt great and all, but it wasn't anywhere near the size of the cock piercing his bottom now. It hurt so bad, but it felt so good, so right. Eddie was beginning to become overwhelmed with the mix of pleasure and pain that coursed through his veins with every sharp thrust from behind. He then arched up off of the desk and cried out as Vic bit into his shoulder blade and gave both of his nipples a hard twist.

"Shit, Toothpick!" he whined, clenching his asshole around the Vega brother's thrusting rod as the taller man pulled himself back up to standing and placed a hard slap on the side of Eddie's hip. Vic watched in satisfaction as the soft, flushed skin of Eddie's ass jiggled at the slap, and then landed another blow on his other hip, reveling the way Eddie's hole clenched down on his cock with every slap. He continued to spank Eddie, varying the speed and force of each slap to keep the young Cabot on his toes. In no time, the two mounds of flesh before him were covered in red, swollen welts, and the man beneath him was positively shaking with the exertion of not collapsing into the floor.

"Jesus, you're so tight and hot in here," Vic gritted, leaning forward at long last and grabbing Eddie's weeping cock. "I ain't gonna last long…"

"Ughhh, me neither!" Eddie cried, writhing and grinding back into Vic's engorged penis while simultaneously thrusting down into his hot fingers. "God yes, fuck me!"

Vic fisted Eddie's throbbing cock erratically. He could feel the redhead's already-tight passage tightening up around his cock, and his tightly hanging balls were beginning to draw up. By this point, Vic was pounding mercilessly into Eddie's hole, his balls slapping and bouncing off of the redhead's perineum. Eddie was practically sobbing in pleasure, when Vic landed a particularly harsh thrust into his prostate, sending him spiraling over the edge.

"Oh shit, Vic! God, Vicky, yesss! Uhn, fuck me! Right dere, faggot, yeahh!" His stomach coiled up like a spring and then burst, shooting white-hot pleasure through his veins. Gobs of come shot out of the tip of his cock, painting Vic's fist and the front of his Daddy's desk. Vic grunted as Eddie's hole clamped impossibly tight around his cock, draping himself back over the plump man's back as he continued to thrust into the tight, soft heat while pumping Eddie's cock dry of his semen. Within a few short, brutal thrusts, Vic was spilling his seed as well, burying it deep in Eddie's asshole.

"Uhn! Fuck! Eddie…" The two continued to undulate together as they milked themselves completely of their seed and rode out their explosive orgasms. Then, at long last, Vic pulled his softening cock out of Eddie's stretched, abused hole, causing Eddie to shiver. Vic could see a slight trickle of pink mixing with the white of his come. Damn, maybe he was a little too rough with him for his first time.

"Fuck, dat hurt," Eddie yawned, stretching his cramped muscles and slowly bringing himself back to standing with a wince. "Am I bleeding?"

"Yeah, a little," Vic answered, picking up Eddie's ruined purple shirt and using it to wipe some of the dripping mess off of Eddie's sphincter. The action caused Nice Guy to wince in discomfort and swat Toothpick's hand away.

"Let me do dat," he said defiantly, snatching the shirt from Vic's hands and gingerly dabbing at his injured butthole. "God, you sadistic bastard. You trying to stab me to death with that thing?"

"Maybe," Vic said, smirking. He then leaned forward and playfully bit one of Nice Guy's cheeks, then covered his lips with his own. Eddie instantly softened and turned his head to return the kiss with fervor, not noticing the muffled sound of feet tiptoeing away.

Outside of the office, Joe Cabot clutched his heart through his sweater. Not only had he caught his son fucking, but he caught his son fucking a guy. And not just any guy, but the youngest Vega brother, whom he had considered one of his own. In his fucking office, for godssakes. Trying not to make too much noise or distract the two lovebirds from their post-coital necking, Joe backed slowly away from the doorway and back out the door to drive straight to the nearest bar. On the way out, he could have sworn he saw the Vega brother's eyes flash toward the doorway with a smug little smirk, if only for the briefest of seconds.

Oh yes, Vic Vega was a sadistic bastard, indeed.