Roger knew he was winning, was damn proud of it. He expected the kissing, being touched, the bite to his skin. He did not expect the tongue in his ass, most definitely did not expect it to feel so good. Wesley had never done this. Not that Wesley had made Roger feel anything close to what he was feeling right now. Wes was all tender and lovey and shit, and it was so dull Roger could puke.
It was a hard fucking task to keep his hips steady so as not to hurt either Sunshine or Blake, especially since he wanted to fuck the shit outta something. Panting and groaning, he decided he couldn't take it anymore. Standing up on the bed, Roger broke away from both of them, stepping down and walking over to his jacket on the chair. "Fucking strip," he snapped at Blake, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from his jacket pocket and chugging some down. "You," he said, pointing at Sunshine, "all fours. Now."
Getting behind the girl (as she was facing Blake), Roger slipped his dick easily inside her, handing over the bottle to Blake before taking hold of her hips and pounding into her, grunting with each thrust.