Ricky, my partner, unlocked the bedroom door and I noticed Jason peering down the corridor to make sure the three of us weren’t being watched.
“Are you sure your wife will be asleep?” I checked with him, as I closed the door behind him and Ricky clicked on one of the bedside lamps.
“Yeah, she were rat-arsed when I brought her up to bed,” Jason replied. “If she in’t asleep, she’ll be throwin’ her guts up in the john. Either way, she won’t notice if I’m not there.”
He sprawled himself out in the white leather armchair which was positioned to one side of our double bed. His large, tall frame was almost too hefty for it and his thick, tattooed forearms hung over each side.
“Come on then, lads,” he laughed with a drunken drawl. “Ya know what I’m here for… let’s see the two o’ ya get started!”
“Surely you want us to undress first?” Ricky asked. I could tell from the way he slightly slurred the word ‘undress’ that the alcohol was affecting him more than his manner would suggest.
Jason chortled and then said, “Naah… it’ll be better if ya start off with yer posh suits on. Make it more interestin’, like.”
“It’ll be a bit difficult for us to have sex in our suits,” Ricky pointed out, undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his tie. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to see…?”
Jason laughed again. “That’s exactly what I wanna see. The full fuckin’ works! How two blokes get down to it… wankin’, suckin’, bummin’… the lot!”
The two of us couldn’t help giggle and Jason looked puzzled at our amusement. I explained to him: “Bumming is a bit of a playground word.”
He shrugged and dismissively waved his one of his shovel hands. “Well, whatever you wanna call it, then. I wanna see a cock goin’ into an arse, put it like that!”
“Surely you’ve seen your own doing that to your wife?” Ricky asked.
Jason chuckled. “That’s different, mate. I wanna see how you guys do it. How it works when you’ve got two men goin’ at it together… two rock hard cocks and a couple o’ tight little arseholes!”
I looked at Ricky and we smiled at each other. We’d never made love in the presence of an audience before – well, not to our knowledge – and it would be intriguing to have another man – especially a big, ostensibly straight bloke like Jason – sitting alongside us, watching us perform.
“Do you think it’ll be different from what you’re used to?” I asked him.
He grinned. “Fuckin’ yeah! Of course it will! Two ‘orny blokes, both ‘ot for each other, with no woman there to tell them she’s gettin’ tired, or gettin’ an ‘eadache or whatever!”
“I think you’re over-egging it a bit,” Ricky laughed. “You’ll probably find we’re not as dynamic as you’re expecting us to be.”
Jason just chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, fellas. I know how it works when it’s two gay blokes goin’ at it together. I’ve seen stuff on the web. All that spunk in yer bollocks and no-one to keep a lid on things… I think we all know what a fuckin’ good show I’m gonna get!”
He slouched back into the armchair, trying to make himself more comfortable, and gave the growing mound of his crotch a gentle rub through his black formal trousers.
Ricky and I grinned at each other, fascinated at seeing this large, burly man starting to become aroused, while Jason smirked back at us, enjoying the fact we were both clearly attracted to him.
“Ya don’t mind if I give my todger a little work-over while I watch, do ya?” he asked.
We both shook our heads. Did he mean he was going to get it out and wank himself off in front of us?
“Okay then, lover boys,” he said with a grin, his finger and thumb finding his thickening rod through the black material and slowly moving up and down it. “Let’s see how the two of ya do the dirty together!”
===
Jason had first come over to our table in the hotel bar just after the wedding service. The photos of the bride and groom’s families had just been taken in the gardens and everyone had dispersed into their own small groups trying to find ways to fill time until the evening. Ricky and I had been sitting together, drinking quietly in the corner, feeling a little awkward that we knew so few people in the party.
Jason had sat himself down in front of us, his half-empty pint in his hand, and introduced himself as the brother of the bride, although both Ricky and I had long since guessed who he was. It wasn’t just his prime position at the front of the church which had given it away: he had exactly the same shade of dark brown hair as Amanda, the bride, and his face was instantly recognisable as a younger and more athletic version of her dad’s.
Indeed we’d both noticed him as soon as we’d arrived that morning: he was a tall, muscular bloke struggling not to burst out of the new suit he’d been squeezed into and looked like he’d be more at home getting oil all over himself under a car than having to parade around in his imposed finery. Ricky had whispered in the church that Jason was ‘RBC’ – an abbreviation which I knew stood for ‘rough but cute’ – and I had quietly agreed that he had the build of a rugby player, a sturdy physique which my partner knew me to be an ardent fan of. We’d grinned at each other as we saw him take his place on the front pew of the church: his buttocks looking full and succulent as he’d hitched up his jacket to sit down and the hem of his underwear clearly defined against the straining seat of his trousers.
Now that Jason was right in front of us, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms like tree-trunks and swathed with faded tattoos, the two of us were reduced to ogling him speechlessly. He seemed to recognise that the only two gay guys in the wedding party admired his appearance and, from the broadness of his unaffected grin, it seemed that the knowledge was far more amusing to him than it was threatening.
“You’re friends with David, the groom, aren’t ya?” he asked us after we’d clumsily introduced ourselves and managed to make some obligatory small-talk about the wedding service.
Ricky nodded. “He was on the same course as Scott at university,” he told Jason, gesturing towards me.
Without further prompting, Jason said, “You two look really good together.”
We must have just stared at him because he chuckled and clarified himself: “What I mean is, ya make a nice couple. I think it looks great to see two fellas in a relationship – I wish it were somethin’ you saw more often.”
Neither of us knew how to respond and eventually Ricky, for want of anything better to say, muttered, “I thought straight guys were supposed to think that women make nice couples. Not pairs of guys…”
Jason laughed at that; a real blokeish belly laugh.
“I’ll grant ya that,” he agreed after taking a swig from his beer. “Lesbian couples are usually better to look at than gay men, in some respects at least. But you two look pretty good together too – ya seem well-matched and ya look really nice in yer flashy suits.”
We continued to feel a little uncomfortable from his attentions, but we thanked him nonetheless. It was true that Ricky and I made a fetching sight together: we’d been an item for over ten years and had that easy familiarity with one another which instantly betrayed that we were a lot more than good friends. Ricky was a little shorter than me but was strikingly more handsome, having a beautifully tanned Italian complexion and a thick head of luscious black hair to match. In contrast, I’m blond-haired and blue-eyed, with what has most charitably been described as a “boy next door” face and just the first signs of wrinkles starting to show around my eyes.
We both kept ourselves well-toned at the gym and were both keen swimmers (we’d met at the local pool, incidentally), and I must admit that Jason was right about how stunning we both looked in our sharply-tailored suits, wearing deliberately contrasting Sam Homber ties.
“So what do you lads do, then?” Jason asked, and then added with a somewhat bawdy chuckle: “Yer jobs, I mean.”
I briefly described my work in water purity for the Environment Agency and Ricky told him that he’s an accountant.
Jason nodded, pretending to be interested, and I noticed, from the way he was perched on the bar stool, that his trousers had ridden up, emphasizing one of the biggest packages I’d ever had the good fortune to lay my eyes on. His fly seemed as if it was on the point of giving way with the pressure of the huge mound of flesh it was struggling to retain and I’m sure I could make out his thick, flaccid cock curling like a German sausage with its prominently-ridged head poking outwards between the paired lumps of his fattened bollocks.
Jason saw me eyeing up his voluminous crotch and beamed a suggestive grin at me. I felt my cheeks blush and I looked self-consciously down at the ice in my gin and tonic, only pleased that, unlike many other straight guys who found themselves in his position, Jason didn’t seem offended by having a gay guy check out his bulge.
“So… er… what do you do for a living?” I managed to ask him once Ricky had finished explaining, in far more detail than was necessary, how he wasn’t the sort of accountant who handled people’s tax returns.
Jason replied, “Ya know those orange cones ya see on the motorway when they’re doin’ repairs?”
We both nodded.
“Well, I make the white reflective sleeves that fit around them.”
I couldn’t immediately think of a response to that and Ricky seemed lost for words too.
Jason laughed at the two of us gawping gormlessly at him. “Don’t worry, fellas – it’s always a conversation stopper, that one!”
I was about to make some inane comment about how none of us pause to think about the origins of objects we take for granted, when Jason stood up, told us how good it was to meet us and said he’d catch up with us later.
As he carried his pint back to the bar – flaunting, or so it seemed, that voluptuous arse of his – Ricky and I looked at each other quizzically.
“He seemed… er… friendly,” I suggested.
Ricky chuckled. “Was he hitting on us?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “He was with that woman in the church… the stoat-faced one with the dress about four sizes too small for her. I think it was his wife.”
Ricky shrugged. “Well, for a married straight guy, he seemed very interested in the fact we’re a couple.”
“I guess some men are just curious about how things work when it’s two guys. Or maybe we’re the first male couple he’s met.”
He nodded and looked back over at Jason who was now chatting with another bloke at the bar.
===
Ricky and I took our shoes off and kneeled on the bed together, facing each other. We were chuckling to ourselves at how naughty this seemed: to be on the verge of performing intimately together with another man sitting watching us just a few feet away.
“Let’s see ya kiss first,” Jason instructed us. “Get things started with a nice, juicy Frenchie!”
I looked over at him, admiring how large his cock was starting to look as it slowly developed in size from being toyed with through the confines of his trousers. I’ve always liked the fact that Ricky has a much larger manhood than I have, but even his would shrink into insignificance in comparison with Jason’s gargantuan shaft.
“I didn’t think you’d want to see us doing that,” I said. “I thought seeing two men kissing each other would be a turn-off.”
“It’s not my favourite thing and I’d never be able to do it mysel’ – well, not wi’ a bloke! – but you’ve got to start somewhere, haven’t ya?”
I turned back to Ricky and we leaned towards each other. I closed my eyes and we gently pressed our lips together, working our tongues together hesitantly rather than sensually because of the strangeness of being watched.
Jason laughed at seeing us kiss.
“Yeah… that’s nice, that is!” he called over to us, sounding distinctly interested in what we were doing in spite of his amusement. “Get stuck in, lads!”
Ricky’s tongue steadily grew in confidence and started working itself into my mouth with more force. I pushed back against him, refusing to be dominated by him, and I felt his lips smile against mine as we enjoyed our gentle play-fight with our tongues. His stubble ground like sandpaper against my chin: in spite of him having shaved that morning, he already had the makings of a beard coming through dark against his skin.
“Put yer arms around each other,” Jason commanded. “Do it like ya mean it!”
We did as he’d told us to and held each other by the shoulders. It was difficult to caress each other with our jackets on but we did our best to at least suggest to Jason some of the affection we felt for one other. We worked our hands down each other’s backs and Ricky groped at my backside under the tails of my jacket.
Our kissing became more passionate as we started to relax into it in spite of being so intently watched. Our tongues played together, one of us pushing more firmly until the other reasserted himself, and our lips puckered against one another, teasing and resisting each other’s attempts at dominance with the two of us smiling at the game we were playing.
“This in’t doin’ it for me,” Jason cut in, an edge to his voice underlining that he was eager to move things on. “Work yer cocks against each other through yer trousers. Let’s see ya gettin’ each other ‘orny…”
We shuffled forwards together, both willing to be directed by this tall, authoritative man, so that our crotches were pressing together as we continued kissing. I could feel that Ricky was already running a semi – he was far more aroused than I’d expected – but my own smaller organ was resolutely limp. For some reason I was becoming nervous to be performing like this for another man: I didn’t like the pressure of having to be sexual on command rather than on impulse, and I was more uncomfortable than I might have expected to be showing a stranger how two gay guys enjoy intimacy together.
Ricky started rubbing himself up and down against my groin so that I could feel him getting harder as he did so. The feel of his growing stiffness rubbing against my own insubstantial shaft through my trousers made me start to feel more excited. This was my lover’s developing cock becoming aroused against me: that was what I had to focus on.
“Okay, lads, that’s enough pissin’ about,” Jason said more impatiently. “Unzip yoursel’s and get yer knobs out. I wanna see ya playin’ with each other’s cocks.”
===
I next saw Jason later in the afternoon after I’d grown bored of watching the cutting of the cake and had left Ricky among the crowd taking photos of the couple smiling wearily with the knife held in interminable poses while I popped to the gents for a pee.
I was standing at the empty row of urinals and had just started relieving myself when I heard another man slam into the toilets and position himself alongside me, leaving an appropriate one urinal gap between us.
Before I had chance to surreptitiously glance over to see who had joined me, Jason’s deep voice boomed across to me, “Ah, it’s you Scott! Didn’t see ya there, mate!”
Even in my surprise, what Jason had said – or, perhaps, rather the way he’d said it – registered as pre-prepared. I wondered afterwards if he’d followed me into the toilet deliberately.
I looked over at him, struggling to pull his cock out through his fly. The tightness of his trousers was proving troublesome and it didn’t help that the zipper on his fly seemed to only open halfway.
“Bloody suit!” he laughed. “New on today and the zip’s already knackered!”
I’m not surprised, I thought, with the strain you’ve been putting on it.
“Still, I don’t suppose I’ll need to wear it a second time,” he went on, continuing to wrestle with his organ through the narrow opening of his fly. “Amanda’s the last one in the family to get married.”
I nodded, trying not to peer too intentionally at the difficulty he was having with the front of his trousers.
“It might come in ‘andy next time I’m up in court, though!” he laughed.
I smiled and then got on urinating, turning back to face the tiled wall in front of me.
“There! That’s got it!” he exclaimed in a way that seemed to encourage me to look back over.
I didn’t take the bait: this guy was, after all, straight and married and could conceivably turn nasty if he thought I was checking out his penis as I stood alongside him in the gents.
So instead I asked, with what I hoped was a pointed emphasis: “How’s your wife enjoying the wedding?”
“Laura?” he asked, as if I would somehow know her name. “Yeah, she’s ‘avin’ a good time. There’s plenty o’ booze on the go, so that’s keepin’ ‘er out o’ mischief!”
I continued peeing, staring straight ahead as the flow reduced to a trickle.
“Are you and yer fella stayin’ over in the ‘otel tonight?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “We both like a drink, so it seemed easiest to stay over.”
“Yeah, same with us,” he agreed, his cock seemingly refusing to produce any urine. “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
I nodded and shook myself, releasing the last few dribbles of pee.
“Are you lads in a double room, then?” he asked.
Now I did turn to look at him: I was unable to stop myself. He grinned at me with his cock poking out from his fly. He made no attempt to hide it – if anything, he purposefully held it outwards between just his finger and thumb as if wanting to show it off to maximum effect.
And it looked absolutely enormous: much bigger than I’d guessed. It was easily as thick as my wrist and about eight inches long, and as far as I could tell it was completely limp!
I stared at it wide-eyed and he peered at mine, looking like a tiny and shrivelled chipolata in comparison with his over-sized bull-dick.
“I only ask,” he said, yanking his foreskin back to reveal a fat, pink helmet-shaped head, “because we ‘ad to settle for a twin. They ‘ad no doubles left by the time we booked.”
“No, we managed to get a double,” I muttered, unable to stop myself from staring at his huge cock. He jerked his foreskin back and forth a few times, trying to coax it to start peeing, and it seemed to grow a little between his fingers as if it had interpreted the action as a masturbatory tug.
“It’ll be nice for you lads to have a double bed,” he suggested. “Sometimes the whole weddin’ thing makes ya feel a bit romantic, doesn’t it?”
I looked up to his face and saw him grinning at me. “From over ‘ere, Scott,” he chuckled, throwing a purposeful look towards my crotch, “it looks like it’s already worked its magic!”
I realised that I was now holding an erection which arched upwards through the fly of my trousers. Even at full-size, my cock had a mere fraction of the bulk of his and the exposed pink head of it looked tiny and bean-like in comparison with his plump, purple mushroom cap.
“Sorry, I… er…” I stammered, struggling to tuck my unintended hard-on back into my underwear.
“Don’t worry,” he laughed. “Yer mate Ricky’ll sort that out later for ya, I bet!”
I walked over to the washbasins, my erection making the front of my trousers stick outwards. I looked over at Jason through the mirrors above the sinks, turning to chuckle at my reddening face as he still held his uncooperative organ out towards the urinal.
“I’m gonna have to pull my trousers down a bit,” he announced. “The zipper’s too tight for me to be able to piss.”
I nodded, turning on the hot tap to wash my hands and trying not look as flustered as I felt.
He undid his belt and hitched his trousers down. He was wearing tight, white briefs underneath and he hitched those down too.
“Sorry to show off my arse,” he said. “Hope it doesn’t put ya off yer weddin’ cake!”
I pretended not to have heard his comment and squirted some soap onto my fingers.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself looking across at his bum through the mirror. His large, muscular buttocks were pale and hairless but the deep valley between them was thickly forested with an abundant tangle of coarse, wiry hair. It was exactly the sort of backside I loved to get my face into: nice, firm cheeks so handsomely framing a moist, sweaty cleft. His arse crack would reek of his rich, manly scent and right down low, where the rear gusset of his briefs was nuzzling between the tops of his big, hairy thighs, his hot, juicy hole would, I was sure, taste divine.
I looked back up at his face and saw him leering at me. I realised to my horror that I was licking my lips.
Jason roared with laughter and I felt myself blush an even deeper shade of scarlet.
My cock was throbbing against the edge of the sink. The sight of Jason’s arse had made it start to ooze and I was worried that I might end up with a wet patch showing on my trousers.
“I’ve never understood how a fella’s hairy arse can seem attractive to a gay bloke,” Jason said as his cock finally started squirting piss into the urinal.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I muttered, rinsing the soap from my hands.
“You’d actually taste another fella’s arse?” he asked incredulously, taking my words more literally than they had been intended.
I glanced over at him, looking again at his wonderfully masculine rump. Pulling myself together and turning off the tap, I quipped, “You’d be surprised at the things two men can do together, Jason.”
He laughed at that and I walked over to dry my hands.
“Which room are you guys in?” he asked, his piss streaming noisily against the ceramic of the urinal.
“I don’t know the number,” I admitted, facing away from him so that he couldn’t see how much my cock was poking outwards from my trousers. “We’re on the second floor, right at the far end of the building. Out in the annexe, I think.”
“Well, maybe I’ll see you guys later,” he said, and I wondered what he meant.
I threw the paper towel into the bin and turned to leave the toilet. I’d have to find the chair I’d hung my jacket over so that I could put it back on and hide the embarrassing misbehaviour of my crotch.
“Yeah, maybe you will,” I agreed, and left him to finish relieving himself.
===
Ricky pulled back from kissing me and quietly checked that I was happy to proceed before he did what Jason had ordered.
“In for a penny,” I tittered and then, using both hands, he reached down and undid my zipper. He fumbled around inside my underwear and then pulled my still mostly floppy cock out through my fly. It drooped down over the crotch of my trousers, looking thin and insubstantial, with the tiny pink head of it barely emerging from the puckered foreskin.
Jason peered over and was clearly disappointed. “Come on, Scott! Yer knob was ‘arder than that in the loos earlier on, mate!”
Ricky raised his eyebrows at that disclosure and I shrugged with a smile. “He was fiddling with his fly, showing his massive dick off.”
Jason laughed. “The zipper’s bust. How was I to know you’d throw a stiffie?”
I looked over at him, by now able to smile at what had happened, and admired how much larger his bulge was developing.
“If memory serves, though, mate,” he went on with a mischievous smirk, “it was my hairy arse when I ‘itched my trousers down that really got ya goin’!”
“I’m a gay guy, Jason. I mean, how would you have felt if a woman had got her tits out just a couple of feet away from you?!”
He laughed more loudly. “Yeah… I guess. When ya put it like that!”
I leaned forwards to unzip Ricky’s fly and reached into it to fumble for it among the folds of his boxer shorts. Unlike mine, his was well on the way to being erect: the shaft of it felt warm and firm and its tip was already sticky where his foreskin had rolled back. It was only with some difficulty that I managed to extract it from his underwear and trousers, and when I’d done so, and it was poking outwards with a slight upwards curve from his open fly, Jason grinned over at it and whooped with delight.
“Ah yeah – that’s more fuckin’ like it!” he called out. “Whack him off, then, Scott! Toss yer lover boy’s knob off for me!”
I looked at Ricky to check that he was happy for me to masturbate him in front of Jason and his eager grin told me all that I needed to know.
It surprised me to see him so keen on having me work my hand on his organ with another man watching, as he’d once told me – early on in our relationship – that he considered masturbation to be a solitary act. Back then, he wasn’t even comfortable about me seeing him stimulating himself sexually and was keen to accord it the same level of unspoken privacy as sitting on the toilet. Clearly, after the many years we had enjoyed masturbating together both in foreplay and occasionally as a form of hasty relief, he had grown happy to pleasure himself in front of me, and was now even willing to have me use my hand on his erection with Jason present as an eager onlooker.
I wrapped my hand around his organ, poking upwards from his trousers, and that made Jason become still more appreciative.
“Fuck, yeah! Come on, Scott! Wazz him off! This is yer boyfriend’s dick an’ it needs a bit o’ lovin’, mate!”
I shifted my position a little so I was at what I knew to be a better angle for Ricky and then started sweeping my fingers up and down his shaft. I felt his cock stiffening and thickening in its enjoyment of my ministrations and enjoyed the sharp smell wafting from its moist, shiny head as his foreskin opened and closed across it.
“That’s it! Pump it up and down for me! Show me how ya wank another bloke off!”
Ricky grinned over at Jason, looking almost triumphant at being masturbated in front of him. Perhaps the fact he’d once considered this to be so improper made it more exciting for him to flaunt himself while he was enjoying a hand-job administered by another man. Jason leered back at him, loving watching my hand work up and down my partner’s cock, and stroked the large, insistent ridge that was pushing the front of his trousers upwards.
“Come on, fuckin’ spank it, Scott!” he ordered me. “Beat him off as fast as ya can!”
I quickened my hand on Ricky’s hardening manhood and, still grinning at Jason, he gasped with delight. I was sure that most of his pleasure was being derived from having Jason’s eager face peering over at him while his foreskin was being tugged up and down by my hand, rather than the actual sensation of being masturbated by me, which he’d never seemed to find terribly arousing when I’d done it to him on our own.
“Fuck yeah!” Ricky cried out, thrusting his crotch out further. “Wank me off, Scott! Wank my cock!”
He grinned more broadly at Jason who nodded his appreciation.
“Pull yer bollocks out, mate! Let’s see yer big ‘airy knackers while he pounds yer fat knob!”
Ricky reached into his fly and yanked his balls out through the lower part of his zipper. They were neither big nor hairy but Jason grunted with glee.
“Yeah, that’s it mate! Show yer ‘nads off for me! I knew a posh lad like you would ‘ave a nice set o’ nuts!”
Ricky paraded his crotch towards Jason, revelling in exposing his genitals for him. His grape-sized testicles bobbed around in his hairless scrotum, while the rhythm of my fingers steadily quickened on his large, swollen shaft towering above them.
We looked at each other and smiled naughtily together. I leaned forwards and puckered my lips for a kiss and we pressed our mouths together again. We let our tongues gently wrestle together, still smirking at each other and keeping our eyes open, and then pulled back with our mouths spattered with our spit.
“Come on, then, Ricky!” Jason implored. “Now it’s your turn to get yer bloke ‘orny! Touch his arse… play with his hole… do whatever you do to make his knob get ‘ard!”
I realised that the things Jason had been calling out to us must have been aimed at making my own cock grow as stiff as Ricky’s, and in desperation he was hoping that having my backside rubbed would have the desired effect. He was fully aware that there would be no show without Punch and he was trying to arouse me so that we would become more active together. While I was slowly becoming more excited than I had been when Ricky had first released my organ, the unfamiliarity of having an imposing guy like Jason sitting alongside us and directing our sex was still preventing me from becoming fully relaxed.
Ricky reached around me while I was masturbating him and groped my bum through my trousers.
“Yeah, that’s it!” Jason called out. “Push your finger between his cheeks! Rub yer fella’s tight little ring!”
Ricky’s middle finger pushed obediently between my buttocks and, from years of experience, immediately found the raised mound of my opening. He smiled at me, perhaps enjoying the memory of so many times the hole he was touching had gratified him, and teased it through the material of my briefs and trousers.
“Come on, mate, get him ‘orny!” Jason demanded. “Let’s see his knob get ‘ard!”
I wondered if Jason was extrapolating what he obviously did to get his wife excited onto me as a differently-equipped male; assuming that gay men’s bums were straightforward analogues of women’s vaginas and that if you rubbed them the right way, you’d soon have them gasping with arousal.
As it happened, he was largely correct in his assumption: within just a few gentle strokes of Ricky’s well-practised finger around my puckered entrance, my cock was starting to rise from where it poked through my fly.
“Ya like that, don’t ya?” Jason smirked at me and I smiled back, pleased to show off how quickly my organ was lengthening and thickening as I pushed my bum back against Ricky’s finger, working against his jabbing motions.
“Ah yeah!” I called out as he dug his knuckle so deeply into me that I was sure I must be making a stain on the back of my underwear.
“Work his arsehole like you’d work a pussy!” Jason advised him.
Ricky laughed and reminded him, “I would have no idea how to work one of those, mate!”
Jason chortled back and said, “Oh yeah! I was forgettin’ that!” Then he refocused on my cock as it slowly curved upwards and started looking as enthusiastic as my partner’s.
Ricky’s finger took up the same rhythm against the raised pucker of my anus that I was using out front to pump his cock. I thrust my hips outwards for Jason to admire my enlarging organ, parading it for him so that he could see that, while I was far less well-endowed than he was, it was nevertheless nicely shaped and, if he was of a different persuasion, could show him a very pleasant time.
Jason grinned at my erection as my foreskin eased back across its fattening head. My swollen glans emerged, slick with my precum and deep red with my excitement, and continued puffing itself up to full size until my foreskin had fully retracted behind it.
“Ah nice one, Ricky, mate!” Jason chuckled admiringly. “Ya know yer fuckin’ way around a bloke’s arsehole, I’ll give ya that!”
Ricky pulled his finger away from the back of my trousers and started working his hand into the back of them, pushing his fingers down between my belt and my shirt. I undid the button at the front to give him better access and he fumbled to get his hand inside my underwear so that he could finger me properly.
Jason laughed and craned his neck forwards to better see me being anally penetrated inside the seat of my trousers.
I leaned forwards to open my crack more widely for my partner to work his middle finger between them and pushed my bum back against his hand as his fingertip reached my hole. Finding that it was too dry to easily slide his finger into, he pulled his hand back out of my trousers and raised it up to his face.
I turned to look back at him and saw him sniff his finger, and I felt his cock swell and harden in my hand in response to the pleasurable associations of the smell I’d left on it. Then he worked his middle finger in and out of his mouth, like it was a cock, making it as wet as he could while he enjoyed the taste of my arse.
Jason laughed even louder. “Ah yeah! Fuckin’ lick it! That is, like… wow! It’s proper nasty!”
The bulge of his crotch was huge: he was enormously turned on by watching us do this.
Ricky pushed his hand into the back of my trousers again and I felt the wetness of his finger as it snaked purposefully between my cheeks again. I smiled at Jason, pushing my bum back again, as he stared curiously at me preparing to have another man drive his spit-smeared finger up into my bowels.
“Is this how it works for gay blokes, then?” Jason asked. “Are yer arseholes really important for each other?”
“Of course,” Ricky chuckled, as he managed to work his spit-moistened digit into my hole. “They’re as horny as fuck!”
“So when you guys are apart and you’re missin’ him and stuff,” Jason went on. “Is it is arsehole that you’re thinkin’ about?”
He seemed genuinely interested in drawing parallels between how gay men’s minds might work and his own psychology. It was revealing that he obviously mainly missed the physical attributes of his wife when she wasn’t around.
Ricky shrugged as he started to finger me in earnest. “I actually miss the rest of him more. I love all of him, you know, Jason – not just his arse!”
He pushed into my hole more roughly and insistently and I made a deliberate show of writhing and gasping for Jason, making him grin at me as I demonstrated for him how much enjoyment a man can get from having his backside fingered.
My hand, for its part, kept sliding up and down my partner’s shaft, pumping him firmly as I squeezed him tightly, in the way that he’d first shown me on a drunken night about a decade ago.
We laughed together as we masturbated each other for Jason: me adopting a well-practised penile technique against his gaping fly; him employing its far less conventional anal variant down the back of my trousers.
I wondered what Jason would think if he saw me being fingered for real: would he be disgusted to see a man being anally stimulated by another, or would he, as was far more likely, find himself becoming still more aroused at the sight of Ricky’s confident finger working in and out of my stretched hole?
“Keep rubbin’ his little tush while he wanks you,” Jason urged Ricky, watching us intently. “Get him nice and wet back there!”
I looked at my lover and we chuckled together. This was one area in which bums were definitely dissimilar from what Jason was used to.
===
The third time I spoke to Jason – just before he came up to our bedroom with us – was late in the evening at the disco.
The bride and groom had had their first dance – basically a drawn-out hug to the unimaginative accompaniment of ‘Marry Me’ by Train – and then other couples had gradually filled the dance-floor once they had downed enough from the free bar to loosen their inhibitions.
Jason was sitting at one of the family tables with his stoat-like wife, still wearing the trousers which were so struggling to contain him, although his jacket had by now been replaced with a surprisingly tasteful waistcoat.
He looked over at me a couple of times and, when we caught each other’s eyes, we nodded at each other and he even threw me a knowing smile.
After several pints of beer he got up to strut around to ‘I Predict A Riot’ – not with his wife but with a couple of his young nieces – and then, at about eleven o’clock, when Ricky and I were growing bored and were thinking of calling it a night, Jason came over to our table and sat himself down with us.
“You guys enjoyin’ it?” he asked us over the noise of the music. He pushed our empty glasses and bottles to one side of our table to make space for him to position his latest pint.
We nodded and Ricky said, “It’s good, yeah.”
“I didn’t see the two of you get up to dance.”
I answered this time. “It’s a bit difficult when you’re the only gay couple among strangers, Jason. People can be funny.”
Jason just shrugged. “If the two of ya wanted to dance, ya should’ve just done it. If anyone ‘ad a problem, you could’ve sent them over to me. They wouldn’t have ‘ad a problem for long!”
I smiled, taking a sip from my gin and tonic.
“I’d have liked to have seen you guys dancin’ together,” Jason went on. “It would have looked really… I dunno…”
“Weird?” Ricky asked. I knew from past experience that he didn’t like to be made to feel like a circus sideshow.
“Fuck no!” Jason laughed. “Not that at all. I was tryin’ to think of a better word than ‘cool’ without it soundin’ too strong.”
Now Ricky smiled. “Well, that’s nice of you to say, Jason.”
Jason took a deep swig from his pint as if he was desperately thirsty. When he’d put it back down on our table, he said, “I told you guys, you look good together. You make a nice couple.”
“We’re thinking of getting married ourselves in a couple of years,” I told him, primarily for something to say. “Once we’ve decided on a venue.”
Jason beamed at the two of us. “That’s well ace, lads! That’s fuckin’ spot on!”
His enthusiasm seemed endearingly genuine.
We thanked him and I noticed that, from the way he was sitting with his legs wide apart, his huge bulge was once again on prominent display, almost like he was flaunting it. The thick shaft of his cock was obvious, raising the material to one side of his straining fly, and just below it, on both sides of the hem, his plump bollocks were pushing outwards.
Jason caught my eye as I was checking him out and, just like he had earlier, grinned at me.
He said, “You guys’ll ‘ave to dance together at yer own do. Now that would be something I’d really like to see.”
“Why are you so keen on seeing us dancing together?” Ricky asked.
Jason shrugged. “I dunno… maybe it’d be interestin’ to see which of you is more… how should I put it… dominant, maybe…”
“Do you mean which of us acts as the ‘male’ of the relationship?” Ricky laughed.
Jason laughed as well; that wonderfully broad, unaffected chortle. “I wouldn’t ‘ave put it like that, but yeah… I suppose it’s the natural thing for someone to wonder.”
“And I’m guessing, when you do wonder about that,” Ricky went on, “that it’s not just dancing that you’re thinking about.”
Jason laughed again, this time even more energetically. “Yeah… you’re right! I weren’t thinkin’ o’ just the dancin’!”
“What exactly were you wondering about?” I asked him, with a playful smirk.
“What d’ya think I were wonderin’ about?” he grinned back, taking another drink from his pint.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Maybe which of us puts up shelves and does repairs, that kind of stuff?”
He laughed heartily again. “No, I weren’t thinkin’ o’ that stuff, mate!”
“So what were you thinking about?” Ricky asked, chuckling as he took a drink from his wine glass.
“It’s the sort o’ stuff it wouldn’t be polite to ask about, lads,” Jason said with a mischievous smirk. “But the sort o’ stuff everyone wonders about.”
“What does everyone wonder about, Jason?” I asked, knowing full well what he was referring to but finding it fun to draw him out.
He grinned more broadly at me. He looked cute when he smiled.
“Okay, then… since you want me to say it… how it works when it’s two blokes… how it works in the bedroom…”
“In the bedroom?” I asked, feigning innocence. “You mean who washes the bedding, that kind of stuff?”
Jason beamed over at me, shaking his head but clearly enjoying the teasing.
“If you want to ask something specific, just ask it,” Ricky said.
“You won’t be offended if I come right out wi’ it?”
“Of course not,” Ricky laughed. “It’s good that you’re curious. It’s fear of the unknown that leads to problems between people.”
“Okay, then,” Jason grinned, and then looked over at me. “As long as you’re both sure?”
I nodded.
“So which one of you gets to…”
He giggled, suddenly unsure how to pose the question he so wanted to ask. “Which one gets to… well… go on top?”
“Go on top?” Ricky asked. “We sleep side-to-side, mate. I don’t know what you mean.”
Jason giggled again. “You know full fuckin’ well what I mean… don’t make me say it!”
“Go on, just say it,” I insisted. “Whatever you want to ask, just ask it!”
“Okay. Which one gets to… I can’t say it, lads, it’s too rude!”
“We’re not easily offended, Jason,” Ricky chuckled. “Just come out with it – words of one syllable, mate!”
“Alright,” Jason said, still chortling at how much we were teasing him. “If you’re really sure you won’t take offence…”
We both nodded, eager to hear how he was going to phrase this.
In the end he plumped for the least ambiguous way he could think of.
“Okay, which one of ya gets to fuck the other up the arse?”
We both laughed and Jason grinned triumphantly that he’d managed to ask the question that had been gnawing at him.
I left it to Ricky to answer: he’d once had to answer the same question – though far more delicately put – when we’d been in the pub with one of his female workmates.
“It’s not as simple as that,” he began. “It’s not like we have pre-defined roles. It just depends on how feel at the time – who’s in the mood for what.”
Jason raised his eyebrows: he was genuinely surprised. “Yeah? Is that true of all gay couples, like?”
Ricky shrugged. “I don’t know: unlike you I’ve always been too shy to ask! I would assume so, though.”
Jason chuckled and looked at us both, one by one, as if not really believing what he’d just been told. Then he said, “I suppose that makes it way more interestin’, doesn’t it? I mean, you can really vary things!”
Ricky smiled and nodded.
I said, a touch conspiratorially, “Sometimes, Jason, we do it both ways. Change places half way through!”
Jason roared with laughter – his eyes wide with surprise – and I turned to Ricky and saw him chuckling. He was enjoying the fact we were educating this brawny straight man about things he would otherwise have never known; I wondered if, perhaps, he was getting slightly turned-on by the private details we were telling him.
“That is fuckin’ unreal, dude!” Jason kept laughing. “Doesn’t it get a bit whiffy, though?”
“Get a bit whiffy?” Ricky asked, his face suddenly more serious.
“Yeah, takin’ turns to arse-fuck each other. Doesn’t yer bedroom end up stinkin’?”
Now it was Ricky’s turn to laugh. “There’s a smell, yeah, but I wouldn’t call it a stink! It’s quite an erotic smell, actually… the smell of male-to-male love!”
We all laughed at the triteness of what he’d said and then Jason asked, “So which way do you normally do it? Bendin’ over, or face-to-face?”
Ricky and I looked at each other, both smiling but a little puzzled about why Jason was so interested in our sex, and then Jason added, “Forget the question, lads, if I’m pushin’ it too far. I just asked ‘cos ya said ya didn’t mind me being curious.”
We both reassured him that we weren’t offended – I certainly wasn’t and Ricky seemed amused by the line of questioning – and this time it was me who offered an answer.
“Normally we do it doggy-style,” I told him. “It’s more comfortable that way. Face-to-face is more sensual and romantic, but doing it from behind seems to work better for both of us in terms of our… er… anatomies.”
Jason grinned broadly – he liked that answer. I could almost imagine the picture he was constructing in his head: perhaps Ricky behind me, ploughing my arse as I knelt on all fours; or perhaps me behind Ricky, thrusting in and out of his splayed buttocks as he gasped in pleasure.
“You seem really interested in this,” Ricky observed. “Why all the questions?”
Jason shrugged. “Yeah, I am interested – I don’t know why though. It’s not something I’d ever want to do myself. I’m a loyal and dutiful husband to Laura for all my other faults.”
“But you like the idea of two men having sex?” Ricky persisted. “It turns you on a bit, maybe…”
Jason chuckled and seemed to appreciate my partner’s frankness. “Yeah, it does, just a bit. Enough for me to look at stuff on the web.”
“And why do you think that is?” I asked.
“I dunno really. Just natural curiosity, I guess. I reckon all men look at stuff they wouldn’t necessarily want to do themselves.”
That was certainly true: I’d once walked in on Ricky jacking off to straight porn and, once I’d got over my initial surprise, I sat down alongside him and we’d jacked off together.
“I think it’s really healthy, actually,” Ricky said. “It keeps you open-minded about sexual stuff.”
Jason nodded and looked over at the dancefloor. I could tell he wasn’t interested in watching people dance: he was thinking about what he was going to say next; weighing up a few possibilities and sounding them out in his head.
Eventually, once again, he opted for the direct approach.
“So are you lads gonna ‘ave sex tonight?” he asked casually, like he was asking what time we’d be heading up to bed.
This time Ricky laughed: I think I just gawped at Jason, too stunned to be amused.
“Bum sex, I mean…?” Jason clarified, as if our reaction had been caused by a lack of understanding.
“I dunno,” Ricky said. “It’s not like we mark it in our diaries in advance.”
“D’ya think ya will, though?” Jason persisted. “Ya both feelin’ a bit ‘orny?”
“Why do you ask?” Ricky queried. “Why does it matter to you?”
“It’s just… I dunno…” Jason stammered. And then, becoming more focussed, went on, “‘ave you ever done it with anyone watchin’? Some curious straight guy you met at a wedding, maybe?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Talk about the subtle approach!”
“You up for it, though?” Jason kept on. “D’ya fancy a shag, Scott? Havin’ laddo here goin’ at yer bum while I sit an’ watch?”
I just stared at him, shocked and amused in equal measure, but I was unable to bring myself to say ‘no’.
What if we did have sex with Jason watching us? How would it feel? How erotic would it be for the two of us to put on a show for him?
“What about your wife?” Ricky asked. I noticed he wasn’t saying ‘no’ either.
“It’s not like I’d be cheatin’ on her,” Jason said with nonchalant shrug. “I won’t get involved – I’d just leave you guys to it. I’d just watch and then – if you two didn’t mind – use yer bathroom to wazz mysel’ off afterwards!”
Ricky and I looked at each other, both of us grinning. The prospect of Jason getting so turned-on by watching Ricky and I that he’d end up masturbating in our bathroom was very tempting.
Ricky was also keen for this to happen: I could see it in his eyes.
I turned back to Jason and asked: “Are you sure it would make you horny watching us?”
“Of course it would!” he laughed. “I’ve seen loads o’ times on the net – usin’ one hand on the mouse, if ya know what I mean – so think of how much better it would be to see it in the flesh!”
“So, let’s get this straight,” Ricky sought to clarify. “You want us to have sex together on our bed – male-on-male sex, totally gay – while you sit and watch us? Is that what you’re asking us to do?”
“Yeah,” Jason nodded with a broad grin. “Pretty much. If you lads would be up for it.”
“So what’s in it for us?” Ricky asked. “Why should we perform for you like monkeys at the zoo?”
Jason shrugged. “The thrill of bein’ watched, I suppose. The pleasure of knowin’ how much you’re turnin’ another bloke on…”
“And how will we know how much we’re turning you on?” I asked.
“You’ll know,” Jason smirked. “I’ve got a pretty big knob and these trousers won’t be able to ‘ide how ‘orny I feel.”
The two of us gaped at him, staring at his crotch. He grinned more broadly at the attention the front of his trousers was getting.
“If you like, I’ll rub it while I’m watchin’ the two of you go at it. You guys play around with each other on the bed, like ya do at home, and I’ll rub my big cock through my trousers while I’m watchin’ you. How does that sound?”
Ricky turned to me and I nodded enthusiastically at him. He grinned back: like he’d doubted for a second that I’d be up for this.
He turned back to Jason and nodded himself. “Sounds pretty good.”
Jason chuckled. “Nice one, fellas. We’ll have a good time, the three of us – believe me!”
He stood up and straightened his trousers. His bulge looked enormous and I wondered if the prospect of seeing Ricky and me enjoying our homosexual variant of lovemaking had placed additional strain on his already over-loaded zipper.
He saw me checking him out and threw me a wink. He rubbed the large mound and said, “It gets a lot bigger than this, mate!”
Ricky and I laughed and Jason said, more seriously, “When you’re ready to go up to bed, throw me a nod and I’ll come up with ya. If anyone asks, you’ve got some heartburn tablets and you’re lettin’ me have a few.”
We nodded in agreement and Jason added: “Don’t tell anyone about this. This has to be totally between us, like.”
We nodded again, and I was amused that he might think we’d want to broadcast to the other guests that this big, burly man was coming to our room so we could perform sexually for him as two male lovers.
When he’d left us to go over to his mates at the bar, Ricky turned to me and asked if I really did want to have sex in front of him.
“Of course I do! It’ll be fun – especially if he really does get horny.”
Ricky nodded. “I suppose we only have a problem after he’s cum.”
“How do you figure that out?”
“It’ll be fine while he’s enjoying watching us. But once he’s finished himself off in the bathroom, he might suddenly regret coming to our room. He might even blame us for leading him on.”
“You’re just over-analysing it,” I said. “He’ll probably just head off to bed with his wife.”
“It’s one thing getting titillated by watching two guys having sex, but he’ll feel very different once he’s ‘wazzed himself off’ as he so eloquently put it.”
I shook my head. “It won’t be a problem, I’m sure.”
Ricky was insistent, though. “He’s a big bloke, Scott. It could get seriously nasty.”
“Do you think we shouldn’t invite him up with us?”
“No. We’ve agreed he can come to our room. I just think we need to take care. If he starts behaving weirdly, we get him the fuck out. Lock the door. Leave early in the morning so we don’t have to see him at breakfast.”
I smiled. It was typical of Ricky to find menace in his own shadow.
All the same, though – he might have a point. Straight guys can be unpredictable on homosexual matters. I remembered having a smutty conversation on the phone with a straight mate many years earlier. He’d gone along with my flirting for a while – had even said some surprising things back to encourage me – until he’d abruptly turned aggressive and, after saying some pretty hateful things, had slammed the phone down on me. I wondered afterwards if he’d actually climaxed and had found himself plunged into a sudden guilt-trip.
Whatever had happened, it was clear that straight guys need to be handled very carefully when it came to gay sex.
“Okay, point taken,” I agreed. “We’ll have to play it by ear.”
I looked over to the bar where Jason was chatting with his mates. He certainly was a big guy with almost every square inch of his manly frame swathed by muscle and much of it tattooed. If push came to shove, he could almost certainly take the two of us on with just one of his enormous arms.
It was well worth the risk, though: just to have him in our room so we could prove to him how spectacular the fireworks can be when two men are making love.
We’d just have to make sure that we sent him quickly off to bed after all the fireworks had been spent.
To be concluded
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