Brewed for Daddy: The Cabin

A bonus chapter — too hot for retailers

The following is a bonus chapter of Brewed for Daddy and takes place approximately six weeks after the end of the main novel. It contains graphic depictions of sex between consenting adult men, including oral, anal, bareback sex, cum play, and double penetration, all negotiated on-page with safewords in place. If any of that is not your thing, please close this tab and go hug a loved one.

If all of it is your thing, welcome. Grab a coffee. You’ve earned this.

— Jace

The Cabin

A Brewed for Daddy Bonus Chapter

Malcolm

The cabin was three hours east of Ashbury, up a dirt road that turned to gravel and then to frozen ruts for the last half mile, and when we finally crested the rise and pulled into the clearing at four-fifteen on a Tuesday in late November, Finn, in the passenger seat of the truck, said:

“Malcolm Reyes.”

“Yeah.”

“You have outdone yourself.”

“I just rented the place, baby. I didn’t build it.”

“Malcolm. It has a creek.“

“I know it has a creek.”

Jude, from the back seat, half-asleep with Riley draped across his chest: “I can see the creek, Finn, I am six feet away from you.”

“There’s a creek and a deck and — Malcolm, that is a hot tub. On the deck.”

“That is a hot tub on the deck.”

“Malcolm. You rented a cabin with a hot tub on the deck over a creek. For the five of us. For five nights.”

“The four of us, Finn, we are four people.”

“The five of us, if you count the hot tub. The hot tub is family now. Riley, what’s the hot tub’s name.”

Riley, muffled into Jude’s collarbone: “Warren.”

I killed the engine. I sat there with my hands on the wheel and I looked through the windshield at the place I had rented over a month ago from a lanky property manager named Doug whose wife owned the cabin, and I took a breath.

I had been planning this trip since the Tuesday after the ceremony. I had told no one.

Now we were here. Twelve-hundred-square-foot A-frame, silver-gray siding, a stone chimney, a king bed visible through the picture window with a white quilt. Creek running low at the edge of the clearing. No other cabins visible. No power lines. No road except the one we had come up.

I turned in my seat. I looked at the three of them — Finn with his nose pressed to the window, Jude with his arm around a half-asleep Riley in the back — and I said:

“Gentlemen. Five nights. No phones. No work. No Ravi, no Marisol, no Eleanor, no clients. Just us. Welcome to your honeymoon.”

Finn, against the window, quietly: “Malcolm.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, baby. Help me unload.”

We unloaded in the long slow way you unload when nobody is in a hurry. Finn took the groceries. Jude stacked firewood. Riley made up the king bed with fresh cream linens from home with a ceremonial slowness I watched through the picture window and did not interrupt.

I got the fire going. By five the cabin was warm. By five-ten the short-rib braise was in the Dutch oven with onions and garlic and half a bottle of red and a rosemary sprig. By five-fifteen I had a glass of the other bottle of red in my hand, Finn beside me, Jude with his water, Riley on the couch in my sweatpants and a t-shirt of Jude’s with a mug of hot chocolate Finn had made him.

The four of us were, I realized slowly, already home.

We ate at eight-fifty-two.

Short rib falling off the bone. Sourdough toasted in the cast iron. Two bottles of good red wine. Three kerosene lamps on the plank table because Doug’s wife thought electric light was ugly in the cabin after dark and I agreed with Doug’s wife.

Finn, halfway through the second glass, set his fork down and said:

“Okay. Announcement.”

Jude: “Finn.”

“It’s a thematic announcement.”

Riley, amused: “Let him.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a folded piece of lined notebook paper. He unfolded it with ceremony. He smoothed it flat on the table.

At the top, in Finn’s brush-lettering:

CABIN — THEMES.

1. Night one (tonight): Arrive. No performance. Dinner. Wine. Touch. Whatever happens happens. Sleep.
2. Night two: Rough. All three of us take Malcolm. All night. He bottoms to each of us, in order, and then to all three of us at once. Riley plans. Riley runs.
3. Night three: Outside. The hot tub. The deck. The stars. Nothing with full penetration outside (cold). Plenty else.
4. Night four: Quiet. Book night. Pairs.
5. Night five: Service. Malcolm picks. Malcolm’s been taking care of us for a year. Last night is his show.

I read it. I read it twice. I set my wine glass down carefully.

Finn, watching my face: “You can say no to any of them. I built it as a proposal. Not a demand. If you want to change any of it, you tell me right now.”

“You three have discussed this.”

Finn: “For about three weeks. In the walk-in, mostly.”

“Of course in the walk-in.”

Riley, quietly: “We’ve been thinking about night two specifically.”

“Tell me.”

Riley took a breath. “I want to run you, Malcolm. I want you on your back. All three of us in sequence. Finn with his mouth. Jude inside you, finishing. Me after, while you’re still wet. Then all three of us at once at the end. A DP configuration — me underneath, Finn behind, Jude at your mouth. With aftercare. With a safeword. With pauses. With food in the middle.”

The cabin was very quiet. The fire crackled.

“How long have you been planning this.”

“Six weeks. Every morning when I wake up.”

“I’m not saying no. I am going to say yes. I want to. I want all of it. Riley — you run it. Finn, Jude — you execute. I am the one being taken care of tomorrow night.”

Jude, across the table, smiling the small slow smile he smiled when he was going to cry and was not going to: “Malcolm. We love you.”

“I love you.”

Riley reached across the table and took my hand. “Thank you.”

“Riley. Don’t thank me. This is a gift you are giving me.”

“It is a gift we are giving each other.”

I will skip most of night one, because night one was what Finn said it was going to be. Dishes. Hot tub — Riley and Jude, then Finn and me after the others had gone to bed. Finn read me a chapter of a romance novel aloud with his head in my lap. Kisses in the tub in the steam. Stars. The four of us in the king bed together, me in the middle, Finn against my back.

I slept better than I had slept in years.

Night two came at us through a day that was mostly slow. Pancakes. Firewood. A hike to a ridge behind the cabin. Film camera photographs. Chicken and rice for dinner, because night two was not a night we were going to be able to eat heavy.

At eight-thirty Riley stood up from the couch and said, quietly:

“Okay.”

Finn, beside me: “Oh God.”

Jude, on the other side: “Here we go.”

Riley: “Come to the bedroom. All three of you. Twenty minutes. I’m going to set up.”

He left.

Finn and Jude and I sat on the couch in the kind of suspended quiet of three men who had just been told to go to their room by the youngest among them.

Jude, finally: “He is going to be terrifying at this tonight.”

Finn: “Yes.”

Me: “Boys. Are you sure.”

Finn turned. His face was soft. “Malcolm. We have been sure for six weeks. Every one of us. The question is: are you sure.”

“I’m sure. I want it. I want to be taken care of. All the way through. I want to bottom to all three of you. I want to be full at the end of it.”

“Good boy.”

“Finn.“

“I am starting early. He said I could.”

Riley’s voice from the bedroom: “Boys.”

We went.

The bedroom had been changed.

Riley had pushed the nightstands closer. Two bottles of lube on one. A stack of clean bar towels on the dresser. Two bottles of water capped on the windowsill. A plate of sliced apple. The wall sconces on low. A chair from the living room set four feet from the side of the bed.

Riley was standing next to the chair. Gray sweatpants, black t-shirt, bare feet. He had not undressed. He was not going to yet.

“Malcolm.”

“Yeah.”

“Come here.”

I came. He put both hands on my face.

“I am going to say what I said at dinner. I want to run you tonight. Finn’s mouth on you until you are begging. Jude inside you, coming inside you, leaving you wet. Me after, while you’re still wet from him. The three of us inside you at the end. Safeword.”

“Yirgacheffe.”

“Good. Four yeses. One. Finn’s mouth.”

“Yes.”

“Two. Jude fucks you and comes inside you.”

“Yes.”

“Three. I fuck you after while you’re still wet from him.”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Four. All three of us inside you at the end.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, sweet thing.”

“Undress. On your back. Head on the pillows. Knees up.”

I undressed slow, because Riley was watching, and because Jude and Finn at the doorway were watching, and because part of this — I was beginning to understand — was that I was going to be the object of this whole room for the next several hours.

I got on my back. I was half-hard already, because of the conversation, because of Riley saying wet from him out loud.

Riley sat in the chair. Crossed an ankle over his knee. Looked at me.

“Finn.”

Finn came in.

Finn had taken his shirt off at some point. He climbed onto the bed, crawled up slow, stopped between my knees.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, baby.”

Riley: “Edge him. Three times minimum. Then fingers. He’s coming dry for me.”

Finn, looking at me: “Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

Finn put his mouth on me.

A year and two months of Finn’s mouth on me had taught Finn a technique — flat tongue, suction-release, the pattern that took me to the edge in six minutes and the pattern that held me ten seconds from the edge indefinitely. Riley had told him to use the second.

Finn took his time. Flat tongue up the underside. Hand around the base. Took me into his throat and held there, nose against my stomach. Pulled back to just the head. Flicked his tongue under the ridge. Hummed at specific intervals against the frenulum.

I was whimpering inside of three minutes.

I was begging inside of six.

“Finn — Finn, please — “

Finn pulled off, mouth wet, chin on my hip. Patient.

“That’s one.”

Riley: “Again.”

The second edge took longer. Slower. He backed off harder when I got close. I was sweating. I had one hand in his hair, gripping, not pulling. My other hand was a fist in the quilt.

“Finn — oh, fuck — “

He pulled off. “That’s two.”

Riley: “Jude. Water.”

Jude came over with a bottle. Tilted my head up. “Sip, old man.”

I sipped. Had not known I was thirsty. Was thirsty. Drank a third of the bottle while Finn waited between my knees watching me drink with a small fond smile.

Jude kissed my temple. Went back to the doorway.

Riley: “Third edge. Then fingers.”

The third edge was the worst. Finn took me deep and held. Still. Hot and wet. I was pulsing against the back of his throat without him moving. That broke me. I was saying things I could not account for, and I was saying Riley’s name more than Finn’s, and Riley noted:

“You want me, Daddy.”

“Yes.“

“Soon. After Finn. Then Jude. Then me. We’re doing the order.”

Finn pulled off on his own timing. “That’s three.”

Riley: “Fingers now.”

Finn slicked. Worked one finger into me slow. Added a second inside a minute. Curled. Found the spot. Pressed.

I arched off the bed. “Finn — “

“I know, Daddy.”

He worked me with two fingers, patient, the spot the whole time. I was coming inside of ninety seconds. Untouched. My cum spilled hot across my stomach without anybody’s hand on my cock. Dry orgasm specifically — clenching around Finn’s fingers with no shaft stimulation.

Riley: “Good boy.”

Finn kept his fingers inside me thirty seconds more while I came down. Eased them out. Crawled up, licked a drop off my stomach on the way, kissed me on the mouth tasting of me.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, baby.”

“One down.”

Riley: “Clean him up. Finn, take five. Jude, on deck.”

Finn cleaned my stomach with slow patient strokes with a clean bar towel. Kissed my forehead. Curled into my side, hand on my sternum, facing my face. He was on aftercare duty. He was running my face for the rest of the night.

Jude was already naked.

He had undressed in the doorway during Finn’s second edge. He was standing beside the bed hard already, hand loose on himself, eyes on me.

“Hi, old man.”

“Hi.”

“You took him beautifully.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Riley, to Jude: “On his side. Facing the window. Finn at his face. You from behind.”

Jude turned me gently with a hand on my hip until I was on my left side facing Finn. Finn’s face six inches from mine. Jude along my back. Jude lifted my top leg over his own hip, opening me up. He slicked and worked me open — two fingers, three, briefly four, which I felt as stretch.

“Breathe, Malcolm.”

“I’m breathing.”

“Good boy.”

He slicked himself. I heard him. He lined up. The head of him pressed against me hot and thick.

Riley: “Go slow. I want him to feel every inch.”

Jude pushed in inch by inch. Paused halfway, forehead against my neck. “Okay?” “Yeah.” “More?” “More.”

He pushed the rest of the way. Bottomed out. Exhaled against my neck. Heavy and full and deep. I was leaking again, hard again, from having someone inside me after Finn edged me for twenty minutes.

Finn at my face: “Look at me. You’re doing so good. Jude is going to come inside you. He’s going to fill you up. Then Riley is going to come get you and take you while you’re still wet. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.”

Jude started to move. Deep slow deliberate strokes, building. One hand flat on my stomach from behind, the other on my hip holding me open against his thrusts.

And he was murmuring into the back of my neck — the thing we had been circling for a year now finally sitting down and making itself at home:

“Malcolm. I want you full of me tonight. I want you to feel me inside you all night. I want Riley to go inside you while you are still wet from me. I want him to feel my cum inside you when he takes you. I want you to hold it for him. You understand?”

“Yeah — yeah — “

“Tell me.”

“I’m going to hold it for him, Jude, I’m going to — oh, fuck — “

“Good.”

Harder now. Deep grind. I was making sounds I did not control. Finn at my face had his hand on my jaw, catching the sounds with his mouth, murmuring yes Daddy yes take it take him for me.

Riley, with command: “Jude. Now. Inside him.”

Jude thrust once more, deep, held. I felt him swell. Pulse. The hot heavy rush of him coming inside me. I sobbed a little, happy sobbing, into Finn’s mouth. Jude stayed inside me, all the way, and held for a full minute.

Riley stood up from the chair. “Jude. Pull out slow. Malcolm, don’t — don’t clench. Let me see.”

Jude pulled out slow. I felt him go. The wetness stayed — abundantly, the fullness of what he had left inside me — and Riley, who had walked to the foot of the bed, made a low sound in his throat I had never heard from him.

“Fuck,” Riley said. Quietly. To himself.

Finn: “You should see his face, Malcolm.”

Riley, rough: “Malcolm. On your back. Don’t clench. Keep him in you. Keep him for me.”

I rolled. Jude helped me. I lay on my back on the quilt with Jude’s cum inside me, holding. Shaking a little — not cold, intensity.

Riley undressed. Stepped out of his sweats. Hard already. He had been hard for forty-five minutes. Standing at the foot of the bed slicking himself, watching me.

“Malcolm.”

“Riley.”

“I am going to take you now.”

“Yes.”

“Knees up. Hold them for me.”

I held them. He knelt between my legs. Pressed the head of himself against me slick and hot and paused.

“I’ve been thinking about this for six weeks.”

“Take me.”

He pushed in.

I made a sound. Not dignified. It came out of my chest involuntarily because Riley slid into me on Jude’s wetness and the slide was filthy and smooth and specific, and Riley groaned above me, head dropping forward.

“Oh my God, Daddy, you feel so good — “

“Riley — “

“You’re so wet for me. You took him so good. God, Malcolm.”

He started to move. He had been pent up. Directing the room for an hour fully clothed. He was not going to be slow about it. Deep and hard from the first stroke.

Finn at my side, at my face. Jude moved up to my other side, hand flat on my stomach pressing gently, specifically, where Riley’s cock was inside me.

Jude above my shoulder, murmuring: “Feel him, Malcolm. Feel him inside you on top of me. You are so full. You are so — fuck, Malcolm, look at you.”

Finn: “Good boy, Daddy. Good — good boy.”

I was coming apart. Properly. I had been hard the entire time. The dry orgasm had not cleared me out. Overstimulated in the best way, held down, taken, praised, told I was full of them.

“Riley — Riley, I’m going to — “

“Come for me, Daddy.”

“On my stomach. Come on me.”

I came. Untouched, second time tonight. Across my stomach and onto Riley’s. Riley watching my face, eyes wet, hand braced on my chest. He thrust twice more and came inside me with a long low sound that was half a name, Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm, and collapsed forward onto my chest.

He did not pull out. He did not pull out for a long time.

Finn kissed my temple. Jude’s hand moved up to my chest, palm flat over my heart.

Riley whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, sweet thing.”

We stayed like that for a full minute.

Then Riley eased out of me, slow, rolled to my side, wrapped around me. Finn and Jude closed in from either side. The four of us a pile on the white quilt. I was full of two men’s cum, not yet cleaned up, and I was exactly where I wanted to be.

We broke for twenty minutes.

Riley got up, walked naked to the kitchen. Microwave. Fridge. Fork on a plate. Came back with warmed chicken and rice and sliced apples and an iced glass of water. Fed me bite by bite. I ate half the plate.

Riley sat cross-legged on the bed facing me. “Check in.”

“I am good.”

“How full are you.”

“I am pretty full. Of you and Jude.”

“Good.”

“Riley.”

“Yeah.”

“I want the next part.”

“I know.”

“What’s the word?”

“Yirgacheffe.”

“Remember it. Use it if anything changes. Even a little. Even if you just want to pause.”

Five more minutes. Finn curled into my chest. Jude held my hand. Riley stroked my hair. None of us spoke.

Then Riley said: “Configuration.”

Riley moved to the middle of the king, lay on his back, held out his hand. I straddled him facing him. He held himself steady. I lowered onto him slow. He slid in easy on the slickness from earlier. I bottomed out with a small soft sound, braced my hands on his chest.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, sweet thing.”

Finn behind me, hands on the small of my back. Slicked his fingers from the fresh bottle. Pressed one in alongside Riley. I gasped.

Riley’s hand tightened on my hip. “Easy. Easy.”

Finn paused. Added a second finger. Paused. Worked me patient — opening me, making room around Riley.

Jude stood at my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Look at me. You’re doing so well. Finn is going to enter you in about a minute. If you need to pause, you pause.”

Finn eased his fingers out. Slicked himself. Pressed against me alongside Riley and paused.

Riley: “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Finn: “Breathe out for me.”

I breathed out. Finn pushed in.

Slow. So slow. I made a sound I did not have a word for. Stretch beyond stretch. Fullness beyond fullness. Finn slid all the way to the hilt, hips flush against me from behind. All three went still.

Riley: “Check in.”

“I’m — I’m good.”

The stretch settled into a specific fullness. Each of them distinct — Riley deep from below, Finn high and tight along the top. Both inside me.

I said, quietly: “I have you both in me.”

Finn, into my shoulder: “Yes, Daddy.”

Jude: “More?”

“I want you too.”

Jude lined himself up. Brushed the head of his cock against my lips. I opened. He slid into my mouth slow, hand in my hair.

“Boys. Move.”

They moved.

Riley started first. Small tight slow rolls of his hips up into me from below, hitting the spot with every stroke because the angle was specific — Finn behind me acting almost as a wall along the top.

Finn moved second, slow and shallow, keeping rhythm with Riley — when Riley pushed up, Finn pulled slightly out. When Riley pulled back, Finn pushed in. One deep, one shallow. A dance they had thought through.

Jude at my mouth set the third rhythm. Slow and steady. Hand in my hair. Cock sliding slow over my tongue. I groaned around him every time Riley found the spot from below.

Jude: “Good boy, Malcolm. Good — fuck, Malcolm.”

Riley: “Daddy. You’re taking us so good.”

Finn: “Three of us inside you, Malcolm.”

“You’re — all three of you are inside me.”

“Yes.”

Six, seven, eight minutes. The rhythm held. Riley below, Finn behind, Jude at my mouth. I was gone. Just a body being filled from three directions by the three men I loved.

Jude came first. Hand tightened in my hair. “Malcolm. I’m — ” I hummed around him. He came in my mouth. I swallowed. He pulled out slow, licked a drop off the corner of my lip, whispered “good boy” in my ear.

Finn close behind. “I’m going to — “

Riley: “Come for him, Finn. Inside him.”

Finn came inside me alongside Riley, face buried between my shoulder blades, a long low sound. The heat of him spilled alongside where Riley was still inside me. Finn pulled out slow, collapsed forward onto my back.

Riley: “Sit up a little. Ride me.”

I sat up. Braced on Riley’s chest. Finn behind me supported me under the arms. Jude held my hand.

Riley looked up at me. His eyes were wet.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Ride me, Daddy.”

I rode him slow. Legs shaking. Every down-stroke hitting the spot. I came for the third time that night — untouched, across Riley’s stomach, shaking, with two men’s cum inside me and Finn’s mouth pressed against the back of my neck and Jude’s hand in mine. I sobbed. Riley said, “Now, Daddy, with me — ” and thrust up once more and came inside me, and I felt all three of them inside me at once, and I was —

I was full.

I collapsed. Finn caught me, eased me down onto Riley’s chest. Riley still inside me. Arms around my back. Finn against my back from outside. Jude pressed in from the other side.

We stayed like that for a long time.

I was crying. Soft, steady, into Riley’s collarbone. The kind of crying you do when a thing has ended correctly.

Riley, into my hair: “You did so good, Daddy. You took all of us. You were perfect.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Riley eased out of me slow. The rush of three men’s cum leaked out onto his stomach, onto the quilt. Riley kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay. Finn, towel.”

Finn cleaned me up — thighs, stomach. Cleaned Riley. Cleaned Jude. Stripped the top sheet off and threw it on the floor. Pulled a second pre-laid set over the four of us.

Riley: “Shower.”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

He picked me up bridal-style off the bed. Stumbled at the bathroom door. Finn, laughing, caught us. We all laughed. I kissed Riley’s forehead. He carried me the rest of the way.

All four of us showered. Riley held me upright. Jude soaped my hair. Finn washed my back slow and thorough. Nobody spoke. Finn hummed the Etta James song from the café’s close-down playlist. Twenty minutes.

Got out. Dried off. Walked back to the bedroom naked. Got into the freshly made bed. I was in the middle. The three of them closed in.

Finn propped himself up on one elbow. “Malcolm.”

“Yeah.”

“I am going to tell you the night. Back to you.”

He did. Low-voiced. Every beat. The three edges. The dry orgasm. Jude going in slow from behind. The breeding-kink things. Riley sliding into me wet from Jude. The DP. The line of the night: I have you both in me. The three comes. The carry to the bathroom. The shower.

I was crying a little when he was done. I wiped my face.

“Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome.”

Riley: “You ran that.”

“I ran it.”

“Do it again sometime.”

He laughed into my shoulder. “Yeah. Again, Daddy. Not soon. But again.”

Jude, hand on my stomach: “Boys. We have three more nights. Tomorrow is whatever you want, Malcolm. You do not owe us another scene.”

“Jude. I am going to want another scene. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe on night five.”

“Okay.”

I closed my eyes. Warm. Held. Specific kind of ease in my body I had not had in years.

The last thought of the night before I slept:

I am a man who wanted to be cared for. I did not know I wanted that. I spent forty-six years not knowing. I know now. They taught me.

I am going to let them teach me again.

Finn, at my shoulder, half-asleep: “Malcolm.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Jude, muffled: “Love you.”

Riley, against my chest: “Love you, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, boys.”

Someone answered. I was already asleep.

— end of bonus chapter —

Thank you for reading. If you want more of Malcolm, Finn, Jude, and Riley, the main novel Brewed for Daddy is available now at every major ebook retailer.

Stay caffeinated. — Jace

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