It’s been quite a while since I posted something – not for lack of FUN stuff, but because I’ve really wanted to find time to write some more fiction . . . but instead I’ve been spending my time enjoying my husband! LOL So I’ve given in and – I’m hoping – when I get current on our sexploits, maybe I’ll take some time with my imagination let loose and write some fictional mansex fun.
This, however, is from late May – the fifth anniversary of when my husband and I first hooked-up in 2012. We decided to gift ourselves the pleasures of a HOT physical therapist / sports trainer who had made it clear we could have him if we wanted him. We did . . . and we did!
A Bit of PT For Our 5th Anniversary
The Marine And The Judge Enjoy A Studly Trainer
by Billy C
[email protected]
It was the fifth anniversary of the day my now husband Jim and I first hooked up. To be accurate, that was the first day of every day since being together – that was it for each of us. Even if the hard-headed Marine – yours truly – had no clue of that future as our first afternoon of wallpaper-scorching sex turned into an overnight which turned into a weekend, then a week, then a month . . . fortunately for me, my attorney husband, a former Army Ranger, had decided that was what was to be for him. Five years later, me retired in the private sector, him now a judge, we are defying all gay norms, stronger together than ever, generally monogamous . . .
As we approached the five-year anniversary Memorial Day weekend my husband was still undergoing treatment for a persistent infection he’d gotten as the result of an infected tick bite. The joys of living in the woods! So although the second hospital stay was behind us, he had what’s called a PICC line to continue having heavy antibiotic treatments via small plastic packets attached, strapped to his shoulder.
He was feeling fine – but so had he been after his first release from the hospital, when he was just taking frequent antibiotic injections . . . and then the infection resurged. He jokes about a big, bad Ranger being taken down by a tiny arachnid. The PICC line was a small price to pay, and the three times daily changes of the medication packets and taking of blood samples, which were picked up by the lab so the doctor could monitor to ensure his progress persisted, was another small price. Fortunately our widowed neighbor was a retired but still certified nurse, and she generously made the three-quarter mile trek back and forth from her house to ours with great punctuality.
As we were contemplating the perennial ‘I don’t know. What do YOU want to do for [our anniversary]?’ a text came in from a guy we’d become friendly with who had serviced as our physical therapist and masseur a few times, Jake. He’s one of the trainers for an MLB team not far from us, and he owns a District rehab center which is busy and renowned, so his prosperous business affords him the opportunity to work for the team when they need him and other general freedom to do what he likes.
The text was benign despite the hunky trainer’s expression to us after the last time we’d used him – Jim had a shoulder problem that Jake resolved easily with his nearly magically-skilled hands and intuitive relationship with the body – and simply asked us both in the joint text how Jim was doing and hoping he was. We had been enjoying a lazy evening watching three backlogged episodes of “Fire Island” – a true gay guilty pleasure, and no doubt contributing heavily to our required credits for sustenance of our gay cards. We both checked our phones without risk of missing much by diverting our attention from the antics of the queens on the shower, and if we were a cartoon, light bulbs would have appeared over each of our heads simultaneously.
Jim’s grin was devilish as he texted back after seeing the approving look on my face. Since he replied, the text came on my phone, too.doing great thanks for asking. any dinner or evening plans for Sunday?
Jake’s text back was immediate.nothing / ideas? 😉
We looked at each other, both grinning now. I took up from there.We’ll grill some steaks here & then see where things go w/ the 3 of us afterward?
Again, immediate from Jake.FUCK yeah. I’m in.
I shot back.Only guarantees are a swim and dinner – fucking is maybe, perhaps probable.
His.time?
Jim and I had slight divergence of thought when it came to playing with a third – or others in general. He LOVED watching me fuck another bitch – LOVED IT. For my part, I preferred my husband’s carnal delights to any other and would have been happy probably never fucking anyone else. But I understood his perspective, because I loved seeing him indulge his pre-me versatility and Alpha side with a bitch. So we less-than-exuberantly went into “play dates” like this . . . and invariably got into them, pun INtended!
So . . . back to Jake. He’s very . . . “Surfer” – that’s my description. Jim says he’s very “Bill-like” which I don’t think could be farther from the truth. The trainer and I share hair color – dirty blond – and while I have plenty of body fur of a generally lighter tone and finer, like his, Jake’s is more concentrated on extremities and only has a landing patch and treasure trail on his torso unlike me, who has coverage from neck to toes. He’s very lean-muscularly built like me – like a lifetime of being lean and muscular more naturally than gym-sculpted in both our cases – and Jake has an athletic gait and ease to his movements that I recognize as a true jock’s bearing. While mine is less athletics, it’s similar – from years of training to be fluid in movement, immediately responsive and to tread lightly and quietly. Jake’s about 4 inches short than I am – so he’s right about 6’. And he has tribal band tattoos around his bulging bi’s and tri’s and a couple on his torso, one on his left scapula, one around his right ankle and one on his scrotum! – and unlike many guys, every one enhances, none are what I have oft occasion to deem inane, not even the scrot tattoo, which I hadn’t seen before during my therapeutic meeting with him. I’ll save that until later . . .
Jake’s also very genial and just an everyguy to be around. He arrived on time and came in with a basket full of organic food and a smile, strong handshakes, great eye contact and thanks for the invitation . . . as if it wasn’t anything more than dinner. He knew and we knew what was on the menu – none of us knew if it would be “ordered” or “served”.
When Jake had seen me professionally, I was at my most silly and vulnerable, when I’d taken a muscle relaxer for an acute, persistent back spasm that had numerous discs impinged. The muscle relaxer made me silly beyond belief. A silly Marine has to be an unpleasant sight – my memory of that and the rare other times I was so medicated are incomplete from that perspective. I don’t get high – don’t drink, don’t take anything ever – and that muscle relaxer did its job, but it also made me go to an entirely new base level of virtually no inhibitions! Fortunately I was more silly than anything else, even in the near-intimate presence of a hot specimen like him. And Jake handled it – and me – with professionalism, although with great enjoyment.
Jake had also handled my husband more than once – a hamstring and groin pull some time before we met, and then more recently when he pulled a shoulder muscle painfully, and Jake’s capable hands helped easily. Coincidentally, a friend of mine, Mikey, had touted his capabilities after he’d had some serious pain in his shoulder and neck after a fistfight with his boyfriend, Byron. AHEM!
The weather hadn’t cooperated when Sunday arrived – either for the planned swim or for the barbeque – leaving us with winds and intermittent rain showers. But when Jake arrived he looked cheerful and eager, holding up a good-looking Adidas Speedo-cut swimsuit with a feigned pout, then shoved it in the back pocket of his well-fitting jeans. He was wearing a camo t-shirt which, likewise, looked well-worn and naturally conformed to his very broad shoulders, slab pecs and narrow waist, the sleeves stretched tight above his bulging guns. And to say that the jeans were well-fitting is an understatement – his excellent ass, muscular quads and thighs and outstanding bubble butt all showed perfectly, without the look of his beltless jeans being too tight or of it having been thought out whatsoever, just a regular day look. And the way his nice-but-not excessive bulge was outlined clearly suggested he was commando under those jeans.
Looking at him for the second time – unimpaired by muscle relaxers – I had to give Jim credit – he does look a bit like my not-as-tall brother, maybe-twin on an exceptionally good day for me. Hmmmm.
“See something you like?” he boldly asked, smirking.
My glance darted to Jim, and he was grinning at me, having noticed every detail also, but also having notice me notice. My husband’s smoldering eyes told me unmistakably that he REALLY wanted me to fuck Jake . . . and all of a sudden my cock was telling me that I did, too. “You’re in consideration,” I told him haughtily, my command stare reflexively betraying nothing other than the appraisal, not the results. “Change into that Speedo, and let’s see if your rating goes toward or away,” I ordered.
He looked a little surprised at my assertiveness, and the smirk had been wiped off his face. He looked from me to Jim, who was impassive, and then back to me. “Here?” he asked, looking apprehensively around the kitchen, breakfast room and ‘morning room’ as my husband called it, where we’d walked to, taking some time on the doorways that led out of the various rooms, before asking.
“Here,” I said, more like command, for no other reason than reflex – I wasn’t used to my orders being questioned.
“Well, alrighty then,” he said, his face brightening to a grin, returning toward the smirk he’d had before. With a quick move, he was out of his t-shirt, laying it carefully on the back of a stool at the counter. Then, as quickly, he had his jeans unbuttoned, his lighter blond pubes confirming that he hadn’t bothered with underwear. Toeing off his very clean Saucony sneakers, he didn’t bother arranging them before pulling his jeans down and off rather efficiently – with a stripper’s efficiency it struck me. Jake took his time shaking out and folding his jeans, pulling his Speedo out of the back pocket and arranging his jeans over the back of the same stool he had his t-shirt on. Then, before he donned the Speedo, he bent over, retrieved his sneakers and neatly placed them side-by-side under the stool. Knowing that Jake as a Marine, too, though a very short-timer, I smiled at the residual training to be so neat. Or perhaps my broad smile was his perfectly irresistible bubble butt, the same shade of fuzz covering it as his pubes had shown, and the bendover had shown his crack and hole to be just as fuckworthy.
Jim and I looked at eachother, him greeting my gaze with a smile – and I later confirmed that I read him perfectly. His smile was appreciation for the fine form in front of us, but more so because I’d initiated his clothingless state.
Jake picked up on it and asked, “Well, seems I meet the Judge’s expectations – what about you, General?”
I should have realized at that point that despite his appeal, inside me somewhere I was not as into this as Jim was, and I had a clear indication when I replied testily, “That remains to be seen. I’ve seen your body before, and you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t already qualified in that category!”
Seeing the flicker in Jim’s eyes and Jake’s body react, albeit only slightly, I decided to take it down a notch. “You remember what you’re dealing with equipment-wise with the two of us. What remains to be seen is if you’re as good with your holes as you are with your hands.”
I caught the smile from Jim in my peripheral vision, while I watched Jake straighten his back, jutting his hardening cock out in front of him, smirk firmly back in place. “Well, I look forward to . . . the gauntlet!” he replied definitively but without cockiness
Jim threw in. “You can try on that Speedo when you don’t have an impediment to its fit . . . “ he trailed off, looking down at Jake’s fully-hard cock.
Jake’s cock was indeed rock hard, veins bulging and arced up from his blond bush above his swinging nuts, and he was completely unabashed. He did a quick twirl in his hand with the small, blue swimsuit with white side strips and then flung it out in a high arc well over the stool where his other clothes rested. “Well that’s that then!” he exclaimed, clearly not unhappy with the status we’d come to.
Jim reached out and deftly grabbed the suit as it sailed in an arc and tossed it back onto the stool. “I do want to see you in it later on, when you can fit ALL of you in it.”
With the smirk now playfully defiant, he said, “Well, we’ll consider that a challenge to see if you can get this,” and with that he SMACKED his hardon with a surprisingly loud thwack, causing it to bounce tautly from left to right and back again, “To that state of complete exhaustion.”
Now on full display, Jake is cut, MAYBE 7” if I’m generous, thicker than average, but not thick per se, but very nicely veiny. He – at close glance – trims his pubes, but he does it so that it looks almost natural – nicely bushy but not dauntingly dense. Reviewing my memory of his torso, I confirmed he was mostly smooth and very well-sculpted, both front and back. The treasure trail in front and an almost translucent and exceptionally appealing thatch of hair at the bottom of his spine above his tailbone, combined with furry, nicely vascular arms, those bulging guns and well-muscled legs down to nicely big – but not Hobbit-like, like mine – feet, Jake is easy on the eyes and hard on the nuts.
Yup – just that quickly I was feeling it. In that short time my cock had risen to its full alert status and had intention of having its way with our visitor. A quick glance at Jim’s shorts told me he was of like mind.
“How about we get some sustenance, and then we can assay to doing just that,” Jim suggested.
I seconded the motion, and Jake said he could always eat, patting his rock-hard abs inanely, giving his lower abs and groin a rub for good measure, his fingers running through his bush deliberately, his eyes boring into mine also deliberately. His hardon waved from the motion. Mine emitted a fairly large drop of precum, accompanied by a twitch inside my cargo shorts.
Jim asked Jake how he wanted his steak cooked and then headed to the kitchen and went about it.
“Am I dining en flagrante?” Jake asked with a dirty grin, pointing with both hands at his nakedness.
“You are,” I said, with nothing further. Jim, who’d gone around past the big island and into the cooking area and was getting busy gave a quick glance and grinned at me. Before he looked away, Jim sort of cocked his head in Jake’s direction and then said, to both of us, “About thirty minutes.” Then to me, with a dirty wink, “Perhaps you can arrange for Jake to have something to drink.”
I was already getting the web belt on my cargo shorts undone and, just as Jake turned and noticed and showed his appreciation with a smile, got to the button in my shorts and swiftly unzipped them. I, too, was commando, and with a gentle shove and a slight adjustment to my raging cock, my shorts hit the floor. Looking at Jake, I silently enjoyed the way the trainer’s eyes widened and his tongue lightly licked his lips as he looked at my cock, easily twice the size of his. If he remembered it from our session when he gave me the most effective back rub and “adjustment” I couldn’t tell, such was the depth of appreciative gaze. When his eyes came back to mine I remained silent, simply hardening my gaze at him, finally planting my hands on my hips and straightening my spine even more than it was.
It seemed long – like slow motion – but finally Jake took steps toward me and sank to his knees in front of me. He started to take hold of my cock, and I ordered, “NO HANDS . . . until you are given permission.”
His eyes had never left mine as he approached, and he hadn’t flinched when I barked at him. His eyes narrowed over a smirk, and as he moved his lips toward but stopped short of the drooling tip of my expectant cock he spoke. “You know damn well it’ll take both hands and every bit of jaw hinge prowess I can muster to do this beauty justice.”
I didn’t have time to reprimand him for speaking before he leaned in farther and his tongue met the base of my cock, close enough to my sac that his jaw brushed my nuts as he first placed a kiss just at the base, lips in my pubes. Then he licked with his warm, wet tongue, from my base along the more than nine and a half inches to my tip in a slow swipe that had me fighting to conceal the gasp of pleasure that shuttered through me. His arrival at my tip was just in time to catch the glob of precum that had been gathering there. “Mmmmmmmm,” he moaned. “Good appetizer,” he quipped, smacking his lips and looking up at me.
Jim was grinning, working diligently at the island, doing cooking things that I wouldn’t know how to name, giving an approving glance at Jake’s early stage efforts. Those efforts now included Jake mmmmmgggrrrmmming and aaaakkkhhhhhhhing around the outermost four inches of my cock, having devoured it likewise without permission, working my fat cockhead as well as he could, tongue swirling and teasing and lapping with his very well-practiced, it seemed, tongue. The cocksucker’s hands were behind his back obediently at least.
Deciding to step up the pace a little after enjoying Jake’s struggle to not touch but still give it a heavy effort, I put my hand on Jake’s head lightly but firmly enough to take control. I began simultaneously holding his head from retreating and swayed forward enough to challenge his mouth’s capacity and to push against the opening to his throat. Jake tried – I could tell by him moving into me – but his gagging was swift and extreme.
Gently pushing his head back a bit to give him some relief, I let Jake cough and heave some as he reset. “You may use your hands, Jake, if it will help you do better,” I told him, and I gently applied pressure to the back of his head to get him going again.
Jake looked up at me with a look of determination, clamped one of his big hands hard around the base of my cock, his fingers almost meeting but not quite, and a new bolt of electricity went through me. His grip was strong enough to give me its own bracing jolt, followed by a double whammy. Jake growled aloud and with his free hand took a tight grip on my sac, giving the boys no mercy as he did, causing me to growl in response and to clamp my hand tight on his head. Then, not waiting for Jake to complete his open-mouthed dive onto my cock, I SHOVED into his mouth and HARD against the opening to his throat.
“MMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGG!” Jake grunted around my cock, but I gave him no relief as he started to gag and simply used the opportunity to SHOVE harder into his throat. Looking down I saw Jake’s eyes wide and teary through his gagging and thrashing about but gave no quarter and held him there.
Helpfully, Jim called across from the kitchen, “If you relax and don’t fight, your body’s reactions will relax.”
Jake’s struggling stopped a bit, but his gagging and choking – however pleasantly it stimulated my cockhead in particular – did not. When I finally loosed my grip on his head I expected him to fall – or rather jump – backward. But Jake only pulled back enough to reset himself, loud breaths sucked hard and fast. Then without warning he attacked my cock anew. And that time he shoved my cock into his own throat, still choking mildly once or twice but not gagging. I was impressed, and my eyes snapped to my husband to ensure he took in the success.
Across the room, watching us more than his food prep, Jim had noticed and met my eyes. He said loud enough for me to hear, but clearly more to himself, “NOW we’re getting somewhere.” Then, louder, “Give that massive mancock its due, Jake.”
Between Jake and I we did indeed manage to give my cock its due. It wasn’t but a few more minutes until I was skull-fucking our dinner guest/bitch, and he was enthusiastically slurping, groaning, grunting and choking around my thrusts. Though his grip on my nuts was just as firm, he’d exchanged his grip on the base of my shaft for that hand digging into my buttcheek to steady himself. He didn’t need to, of course – by then I had my hands both firmly on his head and was skull-fucking him like a man who had NOT just fucked his husband within an inch of his life shortly before the visiting bitch’s arrival.
Jake’s middle finger found my furry pucker and started teasing it tentatively. I was well beyond ability to correct his impudence, and my balls reacted by going into pre-burn. He must have felt them tighten, because he began working them and yanking and twisting my sac as his middle finger continued to tease my shithole, and I was beginning to feel like countdown was near.
“Dinner in five,” Jim called, and I was vaguely aware that he’d just turned the steaks over on the down-draft grill in the island, the sputtering and sizzling having only minimally permeated my concentration on my cock’s pleasures . . . and my cocksucker.
With the dinner bell approaching, both of us redoubled our efforts. Jake had clearly gotten the hang of what got me going, and between his hole-teasing middle finger and his rough ballwork, combined of course with his energetic cock-slurping, he was giving it a great go. For my part, I began drilling his mouth and throat relentlessly. At one point Jake pulled his head out of my grip and pulled off for just long enough to say, “OH FUCK I’VE NEVER SUCKED A COCK AS BIG AS YOURS!” and then DOVE back onto me with even more zeal and gusto than before.
I do love the compliments and awe. My nuts ignited at that, and it was less than two minutes before I was holding him squirming and thrashing in my firm grip holding his nose jammed into my pubes with my cock beginning to buck inside him, shooting my seed directly down into his gullet. I was paralyzed at that point in the pinnacle of the internal explosion, and the first few forceful blasts overtook my ability to move. That also went for my grip on the cocksucker’s head, which finally went slack as I floated on my high after the many bursts of relief.
Jake that time fell back fast and hard, gasping and sputtering a spray of my cum as he did. My cock continued to shoot and sprayed my seed all over him and the floor before I was finished pumping out.
“Holy HELL!” Jake gasped, wiping a rope of cum that had rained down on his face from hairline to chin, over his left eye. He also looked down his splattered body and grinned and laughed. “Wow,” he exclaimed and then looked up at me.
For my part, having grabbed a cabinet counter close to me to support myself before I fell from my weak knees and spasming body as the climax worked its course through me, I looked down and laughed a little at the mess. From the kitchen, “Good thing our cleaning lady comes tomorrow,” Jim deadpanned. I didn’t correct him that the following day was a holiday since he was kidding anyway – most of the mess was on our bitch anyway, not our floor. Though my cock was dripping the dregs of my load on the floor between Jake’s splayed legs while his hardon bobbed around . . .
I took two steps and put my hand down for Jake to pull himself up. Instead of coming to standing, he came to his knees and swallowed my still-hard, still-drooling cock and gave me a good slurped cleanup. I gasped loud enough to catch my husband’s gaze.
From the kitchen, again, “It’s ready to be served, any time you two boys are finished for a minute there.”
“Dinner now, you cock-crazy whore you!” I teased Jake, looking down. In response, Jake slowly pulled off my cock and gave his lips a good smack and grinned up at me. “C’mon,” I told him. “You may have had your liquid protein dinner, but I’m starved . . . and need to recharge my energy to give your other hole its due after dinner.”
Jake grinned and laughed, and he reached for the hand I’d again extended to help him up and came to his feet facing me. Looking down at his splattered body, he asked, “Can I catch a quick shower before dinner?”
Jim answered before I could. “Your steak will get cold.”
I jumped in. “You may wash your hands . . . but you’ll wear my cum . . . proudly.”
Instead of objecting, Jake’s eyes narrowed. “HOT!” he said, and then I showed him to the closest bathroom.
By the time we all converged at the less formal dining room we used, I saw that Jim had shed his shirt and shorts, too, so we were all naked, inhaling the aroma of the still-sizzling steaks. When we went to sit, Jake exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a meal naked with two hot naked studs before.”
Jimmy laughed a little uneasily as his sense of hosting and etiquette was far more acute than mine. But I said, “If you were here more often, you’d get used to it. We rarely wear clothes in the house.”
Jake sat, cautiously, and as he did he said more to himself than to us, “That’s HOTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!”
While Jake was exclaiming about our household nudity tendencies, we were chuckling at his wonder, enthusiasm and obvious arousal at the thought of two men spending most of their time at home naked. I have to admit that seeing him getting hard was exciting me a little – for the fact that we were arousing him, tantalizing him, the promise of things to CUM.
When he went to sit, Jake took his carefully placed linen dinner napkin off the table, unfolded it and placed it precisely on his chair’s seat. Then he sat carefully enough to ensure that his ass covered the napkin – or vice-versa, that the napkin fully covered his ass. We’d sat on the upholstered seats without a second thought, knowing our own hygiene and not caring about asssweat. Seeing what Jake had done, Jim got up automatically and went to the kitchen linen closet and brought Jake another napkin, which caused Jake to blush a little.
We moved quickly to some very testosterone-fueled banter about baseball – the team Jake works for is having a typically terrible year, so we had the juxtaposition of ours as the division leader and his as the same division’s loser, theirs the worst-record-in-MLB-for-2017 status . . . and so forth and so on. Jake’s best comment of all on the topic was – “Say what you want about them [meaning Jake’s team], but they have some of the hottest BODS in baseball . . . and that’s what I get to work on!” Well, who could argue with that?
I’ll tell you who – three gay guys who segued from there to a long and spirited debate about many professional athletes’ HOT bods, quickly having left baseball as the primary topic and having covered everyone past and present who gave us wood. We’d gone from three hyper-masculine men who could have been any group of straight men trash-talking about sports teams to flamers in a New York minute! Strangely, all of us were fur fans, and as we wended our way through various sports, we arrived at Wookie-like Andres Agassi and Pete Sampras of yore, both Jimmy and me conceding that we’d Jakeed gallons of spooge to each as we ogled them during matches. Jake, being younger by about ten years, was more in the Beckham camp as far as athletes of the past – probably because he didn’t have a clue about Agassi or Sampras, maybe because he wasn’t a tennis fan despite his comments about Berdych and Cilic – but his present-day favs were mostly well-pelted. But as far as Beckham, fur or not, again, who could argue with that?
When we were finished eating, which wasn’t all that long, given three voracious male appetites caused us to not allow our very enjoyable conversation to impede our intake, we were clearing the table and had a great laugh at Jake who, when he stood up, forgot the napkin, but his bubble buttcheeks didn’t. He sucked the napkin up with him and was trailing flapping behind him as he carried his plates to the kitchen. Jim observed – “Well, I guess we don’t have to see if he can pick up a quarter with that ass, do we?”
Jake yanked the napkin out and then tried to cover that he reflexively checked it to make sure it was clean, which gave us both a moment of wavering confidence. Then he showed us a huge devilish grin and waved the white linen napkin proudly. “Just joshin’ ya, guys – fresh as a daisy.” And then, with an even dirtier grin – “Or fresh as a man hoping to get his brains fucked out by two studs.” We all laughed at his cheek. And we had to give him credit for enthusiasm.
It was at that moment that our doorchime sounded, startling all of us. It was the door off breakfast area and kitchen, nearest to where we all were, and unfortunately it’s all glass. Outside a short, old lady was peering through the glass! My brian flashed to having heard the beeps for the perimeter alert but not any of the ones inside the property as out neighbor Janice had apparently made her way across while we had been yucking it up – my brain automatically dismissed it as a deer or something along the edge of our property – and now there she was, looking through the glass at the three of us buck naked . . . and Jake’s torso still splattered with dried cum!
I enjoyed the appraisal of his state, but my head was simultaneously replaying emphatic words of my training long ago: “NEVER, EVER, NO MATTER WHAT do you EVER lower your defenses and awareness, Marine! A big-titted honey can be your undoing if you can’t fuck her with your eyes while you still see and hear every other fucking thing around you!” In this case there was no threat, but it was a blow to my self-perception that I had not, in fact, heard the inner alarms and had apparently simply not maintained awareness after the initial property perimeter alert.
I actually shook my head to get my thoughts back when she rang again.
I’ll pass over the comical awkwardness of scrambling for our discarded clothes and yanking on shorts like Keystone Kops of yore before answering the door, letting our neighbor-cum-nurse in, her professing to not have noticed us naked, and her reminder that it was time for Jim’s medpack to be replaced, since it had been four hours since she removed it so that all that was there was his IV port or PICC line as they call it, capped off on his forearm. We all three took a breath to get our heart rates calmed while Janice stated her purpose. I GENTLY reminded her that we’d told her earlier we would be going eight hours before Jim’s next medpack, not 8 o’clock, which is apparently how the mistake manifested. She was duly embarrassed.
We attempted to quell our good Samaritan’s embarrassment by offering her coffee with us or dessert, but she knew there was more going on than dinner and declined emphatically. We hadn’t planned coffee or dessert anyway! It wasn’t yet sunset, so I lost the battle of insisting I drive her back home to avoid the near mile’s walk through the woods; instead, reminding us all that she’d been walking those woods for longer than we’d been alive. Then, surprising us in a different way, she added a parting shot: “And youze didn’t have to rush to cover yourselves for me – I’ve been seeing naked men since I was a girl in nurse’s training!” off she went. And after we’d seen her disappear around the walk that goes out toward the barbeque area, we all busted up. Jake joked, “Damn, for a minute there I thought you two were into REALLY kinky stuff when she arrived!”
We had a good laugh about old-lady-mènages and the like, while Jim took the opportunity to load the dishwasher. Jake, who’d taken a second beer during dinner, took a third while Jimmy and I chugged some more water. Jake wasn’t completely joking when he threw out – “Well, at least if you guys decide I’m going to engage in some water sports, you’ll be pissing clear.”
Jim’s head snapped up at me with a grin, and I just had to laugh. “I think we’ve heard the guest’s request!” I joked, but like Jake’s comment, it wasn’t all joke, confirmed as I watched his face. I added, “But usually we find beer piss to be the request.”
Jake backpedaled a bit at that point, perhaps misunderstanding since he was the only one drinking beer. “Hey guys, you’ll have to excuse me – I’m getting a buzz on because I’m a little nervous, but I guess I shouldn’t be since you already shoved a tree log down my throat, and I survived that.”
That, of course, had my cock, which had perked to watersports but hadn’t gone full-readiness, now making up for lost time. Bill Jr. is a sucker for compliments, if I haven’t already disclosed. Fortunately my ignition was delayed as Janice hit one of the different sensor ranges as she made her way out farther, toward the outer part of our property, and I heard that different tone. It gave me a moment’s comfort that I wasn’t so DICKstracted as to miss it, and it distracted my growing . . . attention to the possibilities of how we could use the willing bitch who was our guest.
Jim did a final wipe of the counter and folded the towel neatly as was his habit before unbuttoning his shorts, pushing down to where they would fall, then deftly kicking them up and catching them without having to move. Speaking of sports studs! LOL He was about three-quarters hard I could see . . . which caused my cock to throb anew. “Why don’t we take this into the other room, where we can be more comfortable?” he wisely suggested, having come around the end of the counter, his long cock flopping over his heavy-hanging balls. My husband – always full of good ideas and well presented!
Jake wasted no time unleashing his own hardon again and followed Jim, who led us not upstairs, but to the den we almost never use that looks toward the eastern woods and, in the far distance, our big guest house. We’d walked in, and I started to remind him that we had no “provisions” in that room, he grinned and went to the table by one of the leather sofas and pulled out not only lube and condom strips from the drawer, but also a huge dildo and a butt plug of even greater diameter at its center.
Our guest wasted no time commenting. “WHOA, that’s more like a baseball bat than a sex toy,” referring to the dildo. “And that plug? I doubt I could even walk with that in me!”
Jim quipped back – “Have ya MET my husband?” waving the big dildo, which caused us all to laugh, Jake nervously. But his cock belied any hesitation he might have had, a large bead of precum at his slit. He didn’t address the plug.
I took a step toward our guest. I brushed my hand across his gooey tip, which elicited a sharp intake of breath, and then I ran the back of my hand down his shaft and grabbed his furry nuts, which caused a full-out gasp. Giving him a VERY gentle squeeze, which caused him to suck in a big breath, I locked eyes with him. “Pleased to meet ya,” I told him with a grin. “And don’t be such a pussy,” I added, giving the boys another squeeze and a yank, which he took well, though with gritted teeth and his face screwed up a little.
Jake tried to not let that yank cause him to squeak like a little girl, but his clenched teeth and tensed body told me how unfamiliar he was with ballplay. I gave a brief thought to what fun it would be to start Jake’s training right then and there, but then I remembered the little bit of Jake’s history I knew.
Jake was a Marine – had only done six years, as he’d told me on our first meeting, rather ashamedly, when I’d commented on his EGA tatt. His words – “I wasn’t cut out to be a Marine.” We’d only briefly discussed it once, later, after that time when I’d been under the influence of Jake’s hands on me and muscle relaxers, and he’d somewhat hesitantly indicated that he wasn’t “good with pain or fear”, and that had led him to his current profession – to heal.
Because of that flash of memory, instead I kept a loose rein on his sac, and reassured him – “Back on topic, I’m sure if your throat could adapt, your cunt will follow suit.”
“That’s my ASS, if you PLEASE,” Jake protested with feigned indigance, but he was immediately shut up by a sharp gasp when Jim came behind him close and obviously bowling-balled him swiftly with his middle finger, causing Jake to lurch forward into me and up on the balls of his feet, trying to escape the rough invasion of said cunt.
“This one may need to be gagged . . . again. He’s a bit . . . mouthy,” my husband snarled with a delightfully evil grin over Jake’s ear. Jake jolted a little between us and sucked in another breath from being referred to so generically. Then I felt him jolt again, assumed it was something Jimmy was doing with his big, long middle finger – or fingerS – inside our bitch. Then Jim proclaimed, “Doesn’t seem like this cunt will have any trouble being STRETCHED,” and with that I saw Jake’s face go into a grimace, and he clenched his teeth over another gasp as Jim apparently inserted more of his big, long fingers into our bitch.
Then he obviously got the PT’s p-spot because Jake’s eyes went wide, his body shivered with something much different than pain or fear, and his mouth went slack into a grin. “OHFUCK!” Jake said very quietly in a long exhalation.
Meanwhile I’d never let loose of his scrot, and I felt a globule of Jake’s precum fall just behind my wrist. With my other hand I got the pre on my finger and rubbed it over Jake’s cut cockhead and between Jim rubbing him inside and me stroking his cock, Jake was moaning and writhing between us.
“I. OHFUCK. You. Guys. Are. OHFUCKKKK! OHMYGOD I’m.” And with that his body went very tense and then exploded into spasms, his load pumping through my hand out onto my forearm and dripping off me onto my leg and the floor. Guess he needed that!
I kept working his cockhead, and Jim kept working his pleasure nub until the trainer was screaming and begging over his convulsing, squirming and writhing, muscles all in pleasantly in motion. He couldn’t escape with several fingers up his cunt and me still keeping a grip on his nuts. We both let loose of him at once – an uncoordinated effort – and took a step back, causing Jake to stumble a bit forward into me and to take hold of my shoulder and plant his forehead on my chest, his breathing heavy, heaving actually.
Jim and I shared a grin over Jake’s back, and he held up his fingers, which I hadn’t even realized he’d lubed, making the sign of a gun that he’d fired. We both laughed at the “hair trigger” charades move.
“JESUS!” Jake exclaimed, getting his back straight again, slowly removing his hand from my shoulder and looking down toward my cummy hand and other cummy forearm and leg. “I don’t usually cum that fa—“
“Clean it up – every drop!” I ordered.
Jake’s eyes flashed and then he grinned and took a knee to thoroughly lick my hands and arm and then thigh clean. As the bitch was down there, he was enjoying his head and cheek rubbing against my stiff, wet cock a little too much, and he needed to be snapped out of nuzzling it with his chin, face and even neck while he craned around to lick my thigh. “My foot and the floor, too. EVERY drop!” I reiterated.
When Jake was on his hands and knees licking my foot and the rare British slate floor we had put in that room, Jim looked down and said – “Nice view from this vantage point.” and looked at me with burning eyes.
“On your hands and knees on the sofa. MOVE IT!” I barked.
I was astounded when Jake responded, “SIR, YES SIR!” and bounded up onto the sofa and assumed the position. He had his hands planted, ass up and back nicely arched.
Jim got behind him and suited up in a condom that almost made it to within an inch of the base of his cock and was tight. I knew when my turn came it would be much tighter on me and sort of groaned thinking about it – they always fucking strangle me. My groan got Jake’s attention, but Jake’s loud groan/moan drowned mine when Jim went in again with more lube.
“FUCK MAN!” the bitch exclaimed. “I haven’t been fucked in a LONG time, but man I really need it. Just that you two are hung like a horse and a donkey!”
“I’ll give you something to take your mind off it,” I told him, climbing onto the sofa in front of him and shoving my sweaty ass in his face. “Let’s see how far that wagging tongue can get inside my shithole instead of babbling on like a prissy little bitch.” With that I reached back, found his head with my hand, and brought his face into my crack firmly.
Jake’s tongue was, indeed, talented, and he needed no further instruction. Although I couldn’t tell how much of the bitch’s enthusiasm was from Jim’s opening him up versus his natural enjoyment of my sweaty, hairy ass, his moans and breathing accompanying his tonguework told me he was enjoying it all. When Jim entered him with a loud exclamation of how nice and tight Jake was, he briefly gasped into my hole as he yowled, and the feeling of his breath made my cock twitch and release a bountiful amount of precum onto the leather sofa cushion beneath me with a plop.
Jim was IN, and I knew that by the subtle change in the pressure of our bitch’s face up in my asscrack as Jim got his footing in preparation for his rut. I really wanted to be watching, but I couldn’t from that position. Forego the pleasure of watching my husband fuck the hunky trainer in order to enjoy the bitch’s tongue up my shitter or forego that and watch my Irish stallion of a husband ream the bitch’s fuckcavern. Decisions, decisions.
Jake was breathing staccato and his tongue was still in and around my hole, to his credit, though not doing much with it at that moment. I could have easily reprimanded him and forced resumption, but I was enjoying the sounds of his adjustment to my husband’s invading horsecock, Jake’s bitchmoans, which were escalating as Jim began to pump him with purpose. I felt the bitch’s moans synchronize in time with Jim’s thrusts along with gusts of his breath onto my shithole, and the combination of sound, feel and the knowledge that my husband was the one doing that to him had me loving every bit of it.
Then, little by little, Jake got his bearings, and his tonguework resumed, this time with his hands planted with firm grips on my buttcheeks to steady himself. That made my decision, to at least enjoy the pleasures of Jake’s aggressive ass-eating and to enjoy only the soundtrack as my husband’s hairy groin was obviously smacking into Jake’s bubble butt in time the moans and cries.
Jake took the pounding and ate me like a crazed, hungry wolf as he did, slobbering on and sucking out of my hole anything he could. I felt his spit run down my hanging sac and some down my thigh.
“God he really is tight, Billy,” Jim said at one point, and I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him. Jim gave me a thumbs-up back and blew me a kiss.
I felt Jake’s body jolt like he’d had a seizure and realized when his cry escaped my crack that Jim had hit his knob with his huge cock this time instead of his fingers. “OHJESUS!” Jake had cried, and his breathing was ragged, as his body jolted over and over. “OHJESUS, JESUS, JESUS!” he moaned, and I felt one of his hands let go of my ass as Jim maintained the ASSault on his p-spot.
“NO HANDS!” I ordered, reaching back and grabbing hold of his upper arm before he got a grip on his cocklet underneath himself. I pulled his arm toward me with an unintentionally aggressive yank that could have dislocated his shoulder – but fortunately didn’t – so that he couldn’t jack himself.
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he cried, his voice vibrating with Jim’s thrusts and the sensations rocketing through him. “OHGODOHFUCK you’re gonnnnnnnnnnnaaaaa—“ I heard, as I felt his body rigid behind me.
And then, again, just like that, our bitchboy erupted. First he’d tensed like marble and then broke into extreme spasms as he held my ass with both hands again, and his face thrashed against my butt. At one point, delightfully, he got his teeth on my asslips and buttcheek and bit hard enough to make me jolt!
Looking down I saw through my legs that he had let loose a puddle of precum already. When he cried out, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” I rolled sideways and landed on my butt on the end of the long leather sofa so I could watch the rest properly. I was rewarded with Jake’s smallish cock loosing an impressive load in huge dollops onto the leather sofa cushions, expanding the DNA puddle.
Meanwhile, my husband threw his head back with a loud, “SHIT YEAH!” and pounded the bitch harder a few strokes – which got screams out of Jake, who was in the middle of his convulsive climax – then Jimmy planted himself in him DEEP, back arched, body rigid and then went into a long baritone growl of release. He is a beauty in motion, but with his amazing, muscular body tensed in ecstasy is even more breathtaking. Stallion-like, he was reared-up behind our bitch physical therapist, whose own body was a mass of rippling muscles in motion, and then I watched all Jimmy’s furred muscles as he began to spasm with his nuts’ expulsion.
“SHOOT IT ON ME!” the still-puddling bitch begged, and I saw my husband not lose a beat, yanking himself out, which caused Jake to yelp and buck and then ripping off the condom from his spurting cock and throwing it down on the bitch’s back with a splat, all the while spraying Jake’s back and head, one of his characteristically long shots splatting on me a little. The view and the action was sensational, and I had to force myself not to grab my cock and pump out my own next load into Jake’s face, which was resting against my knee as he came down after his own eruption while still taking the shower of my husband’s thick and voluminous seedload.
When both of them were finished draining their nuts, Jim came around and shoved his cock in Jake’s face. “Clean him good. And the sofa cushions!” I demanded.
My demand wasn’t necessary, as Jake attacked Jim’s huge purple cockhead and shaft like a starving man, and intermittently scooped up his own cum and my pre from where he’d created a lake of it and I’d done my own, and he slurped it loudly. “He’s really a great bitch, Billy,” Jim enthusiastically critiqued. “And I’m sure he’ll still be a TIGHT fit for you,” he added with a grin.
That’s true. Jim’s longer by about five-eighths of an inch; and I’m thicker by about three-quarters of an inch. Jim’s still tight after all these years – every time I enter him the first time in a session, it’s like a strong fist gripping my cock. But he relaxes quickly and then is the most amazing, perfect fit for me.
Hearing my husband make that declaration, and having flashed on my husband’s own tight, searing-hot cunt, I was READY. Jake let Jim’s cock go from his slurping maw and gazed at my cock, very close, wide-eyed. “I know I don’t have any say in this, but . . . “ he trailed off, still wide-eyed and fixated on my throbbing fuckclub.
“Do you WANT a say in it?” I asked him, purely out of propriety, and less intense in tone than my prior communications with him, though still firm and challenging.
He looked up at me with a nasty smirk. “Bitches whine, don’t they? And I’m your bitch, isn’t that what you said?” After a pause, “I’m just doing my job here – no way I’m not taking that bat you call a cock if you offer it.”
I was momentarily perplexed by the “doing my job here” but my throbbing cock and buzzing nuts snapped my attention back to the prime objective. “Then get a condom, suit me up and sit that nasty cunt you call an ass down on my cock, BITCH!”
Jake’s eyes hooded a bit, and he smacked his lips and said, low and almost growling – “SIR . . . YES, FUCKING SIR!”
He did as he was told, ripping open the condom package and pulling it out. He regarded it and said, “This thing is fucking huge . . . but THAT thing,” pointing to my cock, “Is FUCKING HUUUUUUGE!” Then, to Jim, he pleaded – “How about you reload the lube back there while I get him ‘suited up’, as he called it, so I don’t end up with a colostomy afterward?”
Jim, surprised, guffawed. “Well yes, sir, to you, too!” But he chucklled as he did get more lube and plopped some in Jake’s outstretched hand and his own palm. Then, began to struggle to STRETCH the condom onto me with one palm full of lube, Jim easily re-greased Jake’s still-gaping cunt. Jim told me afterward that he looked like I’d already fucked him wide open, and when I pointed out that I didn’t mind him tooting his own horn for his handiwork, he told me, “Hey, all I was saying is I didn’t think you had to take it too easy on him . . . and you didn’t anyway.” I hadn’t, in fact – not by a long-shot . . . or long thrust, as it was.
I’d made myself more comfortable, and Jake struggled to get the condom on my fat horsecock. I admit I enjoyed his struggle and the look of awe as he worked it up most of my length and then ran out. Then he slathered my sheathed cock with the lube, and his touch was sending shock waves through my recently deprived cock and to my nuts, which were urging me to FUCK HIM.
My cock was READY despite the strangling-tight condom. Jake climbed over a few steps and positioned himself above me, facing me, and Jim stood to the side, smiling as he watched. I let my hand trace up Jim’s muscular, very furry thigh, and my cock, which was in Jake’s grip so he could ease himself down onto it, twitched violently. Jake grinned and said, “WHOAHO!” and seemed not to mind that it obviously wasn’t for him.
Jake’s grip on my cock for stability tightened – or maybe because he thought the way my cock was bucking he might miss impaling himself on it, and he exclaimed when he started his descent – “THICK as a fucking tree limb!” he barked out. I didn’t point out I’d been demoted from his earlier pronouncement, a log, because that was right when I felt his cunt swallow half of my throbbing, engorged cockhead, and I sucked a breath in in anticipation of the rest. Jake added to the audio – “Here goes nothing,” and he pushed down and with a loud – “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FUCK!” he sunk down a few inches onto my thick fuckpole. “GODDAMN!” he shouted for good measure, through a sucked-in breath.
I’d moved my hand by then to teasing my husband’s nuts, and a drop of his precum fell from the flared tip of his cock hovering above me – it hit my left pec, igniting me. I GROWLED, “GRRRRRRRRR!” and took a firm grip on his nuts, which caused him to growl back. Stoked, I reached up with my right hand and caught Jake’s bent thigh and SHOVED him down onto me until his ass was on my groin and thighs.
“OHFUCKNFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” he yowled and continued sucking in tight, quick breaths, like he was giving birth. BUT . . . he started to move on it.
I continued to press down on him hard, and tried to soothe him – “Just give your fuckhole a minute to adjust,” while I undulated my hips under him just slightly, trying to match his movements and reduce strain on his cunt. I could feel how TIGHT he still was, and I knew he needed to get himself adjusted and relaxed. The gyrating he was attempting would feel a lot better for him if he gave himself a chance to relax a bit.
In response to my suggestion Jake snapped his head up to Jim and huffed through pants and gasps, “JESUS CHRIST – do I have this right? You take this fucking fucklog all the fucking time? I can’t fucking imagine how you can fucking walk!” he continued, eliciting a laugh from Jim.
Jim put his hand on Jake’s shoulder and smiling, asked – “I’ve seen your cunt, whineyboy – tell me you’ve never taken one this big before.”
Jake did smile at that, still sitting motionless with me impaled inside of him. “I’m no shrinking violet,” he said, “But I’m telling you this thing is rearranging my goddamn chest cavity AND making me feel like I’ll be able to use my ass for parking! NO, I’ve never had both that deep and that thick before.” And with that, my cock throbbed strongly – told ya Bill Jr. is a sucker for compliments . . . and he was damn tired of waiting, too – and Jake gave a little, “WHOA!” when he felt it.
“C’MON MARINE!” I snapped at him, and his head snapped toward mine. “FOCUS!” I added, my eyes boring into his. I didn’t care if he was ready or not by then. “GET TO IT!” I barked, impatient myself now.
Jake looked like he was bucking up a little, and then he moved to plant his hands on my chest, grimaced a little at the movement, but then rose up with his legs and let out a long, loud growl as he did and my cock slid inch by tightly-gripped inch out of him. His downthrust was intended to be tentative, but when he gasped at the sensation, his legs collapsed and thumped him down harder than I’d pushed him down before. “OHGOD!” he cried. But . . . he did exactly the same thing again, that time on purpose, and his “OHGOD”s went to “OHHHHHHGODDDDDDDDDDDDD”s soon enough, and his head was lolling and his ass was fucking my cock alternating half-lengths and balls-deep over and over.
Jim finally inserted several of his fingers into Jake’s mouth, and the “OHGOD”s went to something like a long, merged-together, melded moan of someone whose tongue had been cut out. That ghoulish thought didn’t stop me. I’d finally had enough of the pussy-riding, and I was ready to go bronco on his ass, so I let go of Jim’s nuts and reached up and caught the bitch under his armpits, and on a upstroke I pulled him until just the flared tip of my cock was stretching his cuntring. Jake shouted something unintelligible around Jim’s hand clamped basically on his lower jaw with his fingers all the way in his mouth, but by then I’d SHOVED him down HARD onto me as I slammed my groin up INTO him, and he screamed around Jake’s mouth again.
I got a good grip on his waist, and I started getting us into a good, deep-slamming rhythm, which Jim pronounced, “THAT’S IT!” as he watched wide-eyed and grinning, fingers still in Jake’s mouth, riding the ups and downs with his arm, lazily stroking his cock, his precum dropping on my pecs and solar plexus at intervals, each time causing my nuts to sizzle when his cocksnot hit my skin or fur. When I got my hips gyrating enough and started nailing Jake’s p-spot and scraping it in and out as I pumped his tight cunt, he started bucking like a crazy man. His cock, which had gone to shriveled disgrace when he first mounted my fucklog, was now again standing proud, the slit glistening.
Jim removed his hand from Jake’s mouth and rested it on the back of his neck, and my bitch’s cries and moans – in time with the fuckstrokes – went to wordstrings again, although sometimes not clear or sensible. One, though, when I started really jackhammering his prostate, holding him high enough that I was just pounding into him without him riding my thrusts, made sense. “Oh FUCK I can’t . . . again . . . OHFUCK, I’m gonna—“ and that’s when his body went rigid in my hold, and as I continued jackhammer-fucking him harder, he began to pump cum out in oozes all over my groin and lower abs. “OH FUCK!!!!!!” he cried out. “My nuts feel like they’re being fucking vise-gripped!” he cried, his voice higher and more plaintive. And that was about when his cock went to dry pumps which I saw by his cock bobbing as it thrusted but without output, eliciting a yowl from him, both of which I found hot enough to push me over.
“YEAH!” Jim shouted enthusiastically, knowing me intimately enough to see and know what was coming.
I felt my eruption suddenly, blasting through me from my nuts to my tip, the explosion of lightning bolts emanating from them shooting to my fingertips, toes and scalp. I SLAMMED Jake down onto me HARD one last time, getting a good cry from him and a long moan from me as my nuts began their blasting.
“JESUS! I can fucking FEEL that big fucking rod fucking pumping inside me!” I snapped my head toward Jim with a shocked look, reliving the first time with Andrew not that long ago when the condom had burst, and I’d seeded him by accident . . . in that instance before he begged me to do just that the second time.
But even that thought was not strong enough to keep me from being washed away with the wave of my release, and I moaned, thrashed and pumped out as I zoned out – I couldn’t have pulled out or forced him off me if I’d been conscious enough to want to. I roused myself to the feel of Jake’s hand on my abs, scooping his watery cum and feeding it to himself.
“Not a bad view, eh?” My husband asked.
I turned my head from the hot-bodded bitch we’d shared, who was finger-spooning his cum off me while his deflated cock drooled more into my pubes and looked up at my handsome husband, his cock proud and ready again in front of him. I took my time taking in the rest of him, from knee to head and back again with long sweeps of my eyes. Smiling, I met his eyes again, and then I took my right hand and reached across and very slightly slapped his cockhead. “Dibs!” I said, grinning.
“Always,” he responded eagerly.
“HOLY HELL that was intense,” Jake’s exclamation broke my husband’s and my reverie. Oh, yeah – he was still there.
The whiny bitch yowled the entire length of me during the dismount, and then he reached around as if he were checking his butt was still intact. Finding his swollen, gaping cuntlips, he asked as he took a long lick of what I assumed was lube but looked milkier, “Hey can I get my phone and have you take a photo? I’m assuming you don’t give out t-shirts as souvenirs of surviving that thing, so this will be all I have.”
Jim and I both laughed, and then we laughed mildly sympathetically as he winced and cursed all the way out of the room when he went for the camera. By the way – my cock was, in fact, exposed around a raggedly-obliterated end of the condom. Ooooops!
I looked at Jim and said softly enough not to be heard outside of the room we were in, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
Jim’s grin went to thousand-watt, and he reached down and tousled my hair just a little and then rubbed his fingers along my cheek. I was gone – all the way, all ways, always – on him, and when he looks at me like that, I feel like I’m the luckiest man in the world.
Soon enough Jake bounded back in, jammed his phone into Jim’s hand already ready on CAMERA app and bent over so that I could see, too. Yes, his cuntlips were SWOLLEN and RED despite what appeared by the smears to have been copious amounts of lube . . . and some of my cum having oozed out during his travels, having made the long journey from where I inadvertently deposited it DEEP inside him. And yes, we probably could have heard the ocean if we’d put our ears up to that gaping fuckhole.
“I’ll tell you another thing,” our hyper bitch blurted out. “I’ve probably only cum hands-free twice ever in my life before tonight, and both times I was a teenager who probably could have cum if a hot guy looked at me or asked me to cum for him. That part tonight – every fucking time! – was freaking awesome!” he gushed.
I wondered if the rest wasn’t. I was clearly done, and I wanted to get on to – and onto – my husband.
I got to my feet, the leather on the sofa making rude noises as it detached from my sweaty back. “Here, I’m going to take one more of you. Turn around again and just stand straight,” I told him, and he did. Jake’s back was streaked with my husband’s rather ample cumload he’d sprayed all over his back, and Jake was tanned enough that the dried cumstreaks and drops were easily visible. The sweat Jake worked up during our fuck just accentuated the dried cum that was already there. I took the pic and checked the image to make sure it had caught it, then I turned it to show Jake.
Jake’s eyes went WIDE, and his grin went ear to ear. He looked up at us and then back at the photo. “HOT!” he said, almost reverently.
“Why don’t we go take a shower and clean up?” Jim asked sensibly.
“WHAT?!” Jake cried, more of a protest. “NOT EVEN! I’m wearing you two all night and probably jacking in the morning smelling me and you on me!”
Jim and I looked at each other and back to Jake and laughed. “Just make sure you’re not in any crowds or anything. You might have a pack of horny men jumping you.”
Jake smirked. “I think I just did. And, just for the official record, guys, it was fucking great.”
Jim, laughing, mimed swinging a gavel, something he assured me he doesn’t actually do in his courtroom in 2017. “So ordered!” he proclaimed, and I knew it was . . . okay . . . but far from ‘fucking great’ for us.
“And you guys are terrific. I mean that – really terrific guys,” Jake added looking squarely up into first Jim’s eyes then mine, almost sounding like he was going to choke up, causing me to feel a moment’s regret for my less-than-stellar assessment of the funtime we’d had. “Bill, I didn’t tell you after we met for drinks and talked about my time in the Corps, but you really did help me let go of most of my negative energy on that. It’s not just your rank or that you’re an officer at all, it’s that you GET IT; and you helped me understand things I’d been carrying around for a long time, freaking YEARS. I don’t know if this makes sense, but you gave me back six years of my life that I’d written off before. Let me show you something!” he finished eagerly. And with that, he jumped up on the sofa, turned around until he was butt-out, spread his legs in a wide stance and reached down and pulled his sac so that it was flat enough for us to see . . . a bright red and yellow Semper Fi tattooed there. “You see it?”
I could, but I couldn’t open my mouth without laughing. I’d gone from feeling even more badly about thinking this whole evening was fun, but not really as much fun as we’d intended, and we could have had far more fun on our own . . . to laughing inwardly at – and with – Jake, who had let out a cackle.
Jim picked up the slack and asked, “Is that new?”
Jake got back down and faced us. “I don’t know if the General told you or not,” he told Jim, “But when I gave him that massage when he had that disc problem in his back, he picked up on something when we talked about my service and offered to talk to me about it if I ever wanted to. A few weeks later, right around Thanksgiving, he texted me and asked if I wanted to have a drink and chat about the Corps.” Jim did know – in fact he was the one who suggested I see if Jake really did need to talk. Our thoroughly-fucked bitch looked at me very seriously and then continued. “I knew I probably would never have the courage or the opportunity to talk to someone who might understand ever again, and meeting you as a client,” he said to me, “I knew you were a really good man.” Then he added, “As if I shouldn’t have already known that from you being Jim’s husband.” He blushed a little at that, but he pulled himself up and finished. “That talk? – YOU – REALLY helped me, General, and I can’t express the depth of my gratitude for that, even—”
I stopped him there. And fighting my natural tendency toward irreverence and humor when I’m not particularly comfortable, I just corrected him quietly, “It’s Bill, Jake.”
Jake smiled. “Well, thank you BILL for being an officer and for being so very intuitive with an enlisted jarhead whose head was way wrong and for taking the time and giving it to me to help me.”
“Glad to, Marine,” I told him, meaning it. (Later, after Jake had gone, Jim suggested that might have been two thoughts – giving him the time as one, and GIVING IT to him just then as another! Laughing let out some of the tension and mental conflicts of the evening that had passed.)
We all stood there holding this mutual admiration moment a few beats too long.
“Do you have to be in Philly for a game tomorrow?” I asked, hopefully, so he would either have to go back to Philly directly or go back to where he lived on the edge of the District so he could drive back to Philly in the morning. But that didn’t work.
“Naw, they’re on away games this coming week down in Miami, and I’m not usually on staff for those.” I could feel Jim, against me, as anxious as I was to find out how we were going to get rid of Jake. “But hey, I need to get home – tomorrow I’m up early to go help someone move in Arlington.”
I tried my best not to let the sigh of relief be audible and visible, and I felt Jim stiffen next to me and knew he was steeling himself, doing the same.
“See,” Jim took up that one, “You’re a good man yourself, Jake, helping a friend move and all. That’s always a thankless job.”
If there’d been dirt, I think he might have kicked it and said, “Aww shucks,” as he looked down, away from us. He was actually pretty cute in that moment.
“So would you guys mind if I get going? I mean,” he added with a grin, “I don’t mean to eat – and be your bitch – and run or anything, but . . . “
I gave him a quick rub on his head like a cute kid and said, “Get outta here, ya clown!” and then stepped toward him to get us all moving back out to the other part of the house.
And without any fanfare when we got back to the kitchen, he pulled on his cargo shorts, pulled his t-shirt over his cum-splattered back, got into his kicks and gave us each a warm but not excessive hug and was gone. We stood there for a moment, reprocessing the suddenness of his departure.
Of course, I was the one to break the spell. “Okay . . . “ I gave my rating. “But nothing great or special,” I pronounced. So much for any lingering of having felt bad after his professions of greatness and appreciation!
Jimmy clamped his arm around my neck and pulled me into him, one hand flat on my pecs, the other hot on my solar plexus, which caused my entire body to buzz. “For me, watching you . . . “ he sort of trailed off, and then he just leaned over and kissed me behind my ear, the place that is his and his alone and brings me to my center.
I turned into him and hugged him tight and kissed him. “C’mon – the main game in this double header is coming up!” I told him.
And that was that for Jake the hot-bodied, unimpressively-cocked funbitch interlude. Later, after Jim and I were SPENT and showered and lazing, we actually heard the chime and knew Janice had crossed over and would be at the door shortly. I told Jim in the minutes before she made her way, “You know what the BEST part of that funtime was we had with Jake?”
Jim, taking up my mantel of clowning – or maybe just gently reminding me who I am – replied without hesitation. “When he told you you’d changed his life and are the most awesome Marine ever in the history of the U S military?”
I snapped Jim’s nuts hard enough with the back of my long fingers to get a full-on yelp out of him as he doubled up momentarily. “Yeah, THAT, because I’m so accustomed to taking compliments!” I retorted as he laughed and grimaced, rubbing his nuts, which I wished I was doing. I added, “But also that you LOVED it. THAT’S what was HOT for me, husband. And do NOT get yourself all worked up again when Janice will be ringing the doorbell any moment. It’s a wonder she’s not traumatized from the first walk-in on three homos naked!”
Hope you enjoyed the reading at least a fraction of as much as we enjoyed doing “Jake” ourselves. Not bad for two middle-aged men who’ve been together five years . . . and still crazy about each other.
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