This isn't even a pwp. These are channel clones, and as such don't even have well-rounded personae -just strong libidos. I'm not even sure that TPTB want to claim them. And no, they are not part of my Aloha universe, and not even really part of Mirrored Images.
Mack, Jim and Cole were in a reflecting pool of salad oil, hands slipping over each other, the slick bodies shimmering as they moved. Pecs, abs, gluts and quads twitched at the insistent exploration, cocks straining in anticipation of relief more profound than grinding into hard hips and thighs. Hands scooped through the oil, pouring it on muscled backs and slipping between firm cheeks.
The one in the middle pushed and then pulled the man he was facing out of the pool and down alongside it. Then the man behind followed, stroking his cock with an oiled hand. They formed a tableau, the prone hard body knelt over and knelt behind, one stroking his chest while the other pulled him closer by the thighs.
Hands reached around, slicking the proud cock before pulling hips closer and onto a waiting cock. Buttocks lowered, sheathing the prepared cock and pushing the ass further home. Gluts and quads strained, meeting and receding in unison as they rode the bucking pelvis between them. Fore leaned forward to stroke and knead the chest heaving, while aft wrapped one arm around a thigh. The other hand cupped out oil from the pool, pouring it down fore's chest and following it down to his erection.
Blair, Bruce and their nearly identical spiritguides entered, jaws dropping at the sybaritic debauchery of the nearly indistinguishable Mack, Cole and Jim. Looking at each other they hurriedly stripped, the spiritguides slightly more deft. They groped and mashed muzzles together before striding over as a pack.
The four did a hands on appraisal of the three men, hands dragging over the oil and sweat slicked skin, mouths plundering. Then they got serious. One straddled the prone man's head, pushing into his willing mouth and sucking down the rider's cock. Another pressed in behind the end man, first in time with and then counterpointing the larger man's fucking. The other two fed themselves to the sensual, thin-lipped mouths, clutching their heads and pumping hard.
Hands snaked about, gripping first that hold and then that. The prone man clutched the ass mounds as he sucked the cock in time with the one up his ass. One of his arms flailed out and found the pool, scooping out a handful of oil. Some made the return to be drizzled over the sweat-sheened back. The rider tangled one long-fingered hand in the riot of hair bobbing over his groin and stroking his straining thighs, while the other hand kneaded a cheek as he sucked. The third man ran his hands up and down the legs, chest and asses within reach as he plunged and was plumbed and pounded.
Climax shuddered through the massed testosterone tangle, both shooting from one end to the other, and radiating out from the center. Four jaws strained to swallow as hips jerked. Gravity made the standing long-haired men sag; with effort they were eased down instead of dropping, one slipping between slick chest and back, the other sprawling long-haired head to ass. The pull of the ground finally claimed the four half-draped over each other. The six facing the same way languidly swapped tongues while the seventh tried to turn around before they slept.