Patricia

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Patricia venait d’atteindre ses trente cinq ans. Quand elle considérait son itinéraire, elle jugeait que sa vie jusque là avait été heureuse. Une jeunesse estudiantine, des copines un peu dispersées par la vie, un ou deux copains, des flirts courts pour ne pas trop s’attacher, et puis vers dix huit ans le grand amour. Léandre, un grand garçon un peu timide, et même trop timide pour l’aborder de prime abord et lui faire la cour. Heureusement que les copines étaient là qui les avaient poussés un peu l’un vers l’autre. Une soirée un peu trop arrosée et voila un peu d’inhibition qui s’en va et qu’un rapprochement s’opère. Il n’en fallut pas plus pour que ces deux là se retrouvent dans les bras l’un de l’autre.

La suite est fort classique, du flirt on passe à l’amour, de l’amour aux fiançailles, oui, la famille de Léandre est très à cheval sur l’ordre des choses, maman fréquente l’église et papa est cadre dans l’industrie. Dans ces conditions il n’est pas raisonnable de sauter les étapes, les choses doivent être faites dans l’ordre. Il y eut bien une réticence quand les parents de Léandre apprirent que ceux de Patricia étaient divorcés, mais maman pinça les lèvres, serra un peu plus les fesses en tirant sur sa jupe et tout fut dit. Il n’en demeura pas moins qu’elle mit toujours une distance avec ces gens qui vivaient chacun de leur coté dans le péché. Mais bon, quoi qu’il en fut, les fiançailles eurent lieu par une chaude journée de Juin et Patricia se trouva avec une fort belle bague au doigt.

La suite est des plus classique comme je vous l’ai dit. Le mariage une ou deux années plus tard, quand Léandre se trouva assuré de son poste dans la multinationale qui l’employait. Patricia quand à elle, avait suivi un cursus étudiant parallèle à celui de son mari, mais d’un commun accord il fut décidé qu’elle sacrifierait sa vie professionnelle au profit de sa vie familiale. Cela lui convenait parfaitement, car ne se voyait guère s ‘investir dans une boite et monter les échelons à force de bassesses ou de coucheries. La vie familiale lui convenait parfaitement.

Dix ans plus tard nous la retrouvons avec deux enfants, deux garçons qu’elle a eue à deux ans d’intervalle et qui ont actuellement neuf et sept ans. Au début de son mariage elle a bien travaillé un peu, histoire d’apporter son écot dans le mariage débutant. Mais Léandre survolait les étapes et d’années en années il avait de plus en plus de responsabilité dans la multinationale, tant et si bien que l’année passée, Patricia décida de rendre définitivement son tablier dans l’administration qui l’employait jusque là à mi temps. L’aisance financière du couple ne justifiait plus du tout ce petit supplément de revenu qu’elle apportait chaque mois. D’ailleurs, la totalité de son salaire passait en achats de cosmétiques et autres séances de massage chez l’esthéticienne du coin.

Et donc Patricia se consacrait à plein temps à ses enfants. A plein temps est d’ailleurs assez inapproprié car une fois qu’elle les avait conduit à l’école elle se retrouvait un peu désœuvrée entre ses quatre murs richement parés de tableaux de prix. Au début elle trouva sa situation confortable, elle invitait volontiers des copines à prendre le thé mais bon, elle n’avait pas le tempérament d’une femme au foyer et cela finit par lui peser.

Elle s’en ouvrit à Léandre, cherchant auprès de son mari une solution qui pourrait leur agréer à tous les deux. Ce fut Léandre qui lui suggéra de se tourner vers le bénévolat. Il fréquentait l’église de la paroisse et le curé lui avait dit qu’il était sans cesse à la recherche de bonnes âmes pour l’aider dans ses œuvres. Patricia voulut en savoir davantage et Léandre organisa une entrevue avec la curé. celui-ci expliqua à Patricia qu’il voulait monter une action dans les quartiers défavorisés en vue d’apporter une aide scolaire aux enfants en difficulté. Il s’agissait d’ados du collège de la ville, souvent en rupture et en échec scolaire. Des ados qui méritaient sans doute beaucoup mieux que le dédain dont-ils étaient les victimes dans leur vie. Patricia demanda à réfléchir, car la tache risquait d’être ardue. Elle n’avait jamais fait d’enseignement, mais le curé qui connaissait son parcours scolaire, se montra persuasif, arguant qu’il avait réellement besoin de ses connaissances pour venir en aide à ces jeunes à la dérive.

Patricia appréhendait néanmoins. Elle pesa le pour et le contre et finit par dire oui, un peu poussé par Léandre qui voyait déjà sa femme prendre de l’importance au sein de la paroisse et devenir bientôt le pilier indispensable, le bras droit de monsieur le curé. Léandre avait un respect solide pour ce curé entreprenant qui n’hésitait pas à aller vers les quartiers démunis pour apporter sa part de miséricorde.

Il insista tellement que Patricia finit par dire oui, dans un mélange d’excitation et d’appréhension. Elle suivit néanmoins monsieur le curé jusqu’à la salle commune un peu délabrée qui servait à tout dans cette barre d’HLM, la cité des Bosquets, repoussée aux confins lointains de Afyon Escort la commune. Patricia se montra timide, craintive même, sortir de son environnement privilégié la faisait frissonner. Et la vue des cinq ados devant elle ne contribua pas à la mettre en confiance. Elle faisait face à des mines fermées et rébarbatives, et après que monsieur le curé eut fait les présentations, l’atmosphère ne se détendit pas vraiment.

Le curé expliqua que dorénavant Patricia viendrait deux fois par semaine pour les aider dans leurs devoirs, qu’elle était la aussi pour les aider à comprendre ce qu’ils n’avaient pas compris à l’école. Pour montrer à sa nouvelle protégée comment faire, il se lança dans les devoirs et les explications que les jeunes étaient venus chercher.

Patricia observait les enfants, il y avait quatre garçons et une fille, quatre maghrébins, dont la fille, et un africain, tous entre quatorze et seize ans. Le curé essayait tant bien que mal de leur apporter son savoir, mais Patricia voyait bien qu’elles étaient ses limites. Elle observait l’attitude des élèves, tous étaient avachis sur les méchantes tables un brin délabrées, le nez dans leurs cahier, on sentait l’effort intense qui émanait du groupe. De temps en temps l’un d’eux, levait le nez pour l’observer à la dérobée tandis que le curé s’échinait et suait sans et eau dans ses explications pas toujours très claires. Patricia s’en rendait bien compte, elle pourrait sans trop se forcer faire au moins aussi bien que le curé.

A la fin du cours, le curé lui fit prendre un peu la parole et elle se présenta à la classe. A sa grande surprise les élèves lui posèrent des questions, d’où elle venait, si elle était mariée, si elle avait des enfants, etc. Patricia fut un peu réconfortée par l’intérêt que lui portait le groupe et en tira assez de courage pour revenir vers eux lors de la prochaine séance du surlendemain.

Quand elle repartit dans la voiture du curé, elle n’était pas loin de l’exaltation, persuadée que les choses iraient bien et qu’elle pouvait apporter à ces jeunes de son savoir pour les tirer vers le haut de la société. Le soir même elle raconta à Léandre sa première entrevue avec le groupe en des termes qui firent penser à son mari que décidément, ils avaient pris la bonne direction.

C’est donc pleine d’enthousiasme qu’elle arriva le surlendemain à la salle polyvalente où l’attendait son groupe pour sa première heure de classe. Patricia pour cette première séance s’était habillée sobrement, d’un pantalon et d’un pull tout à fait ordinaires. Quand elle entra dans la salle, les conversations se turent et les regards se tournèrent vers elle. Elle se trouva en face de visages fermés qui la dévisageaient sans sympathie particulière. Elle trouva à la fille, une petite maghrébine un air un peu sournois tant elle la dévisageait à la dérobée. Les garçons lui parurent plus francs mais leurs regards étaient fortement insistants. Leurs yeux la dévisageaient avec une telle insistance qu’elle en fut gênée. Patricia se sentit rougir devant les cinq ados mais elle trouva les ressources nécessaires à les faire assoir et commencer à leur apporter l’aide qu’ils attendaient. Bientôt elle apprit leurs prénoms, le grand noir, de loin le plus fort de la bande se prénommait Abdoul. Il la dépassait d’une bonne tête et on sentait un corps ferme, sans doute du à la pratique régulière de musculation. Les maghrébins étaient plus petits, elle les confondit un peu, entre l’inévitable Mohamed, Aziz, Nourédine et Leila. Patricia ne semblait pas très à l’aise, cependant la séance se passa bien, un peu empruntés au début, le groupe se détendit au fil des minutes et ils finirent par lui poser des questions sur le travail qu’ils étaient en train de faire, tout en glissant de temps en temps une question personnelle:

« Pourquoi tu fais ça pour nous m’dame? »

« Pour vous aider dans votre travail scolaire. »

« ‘ toute façon y pas de boulot pour nous m’dame. »

« Allons il faut être plus constructif que ça. »

« Constructif! Qu’est-ce tu veux construire? Des HLM? »

Un frisson de rire parcourut l’assistance et Patricia se trouva un peu bête devant ces jeunes, elle rougit.

« Quand tu vas retourner dans ton beau quartier tu vas nous oublier. »

« Mais… je …pas du tout, et d’ailleurs si je ne vous aimais pas je ne serais pas venu vous aider. »

« Tu nous aimes m’dame? »

« Heu…je …bien sur » dit elle avec un sourire contraint.

La petite classe pouffa sans trop de retenue et replongea la tête dans ses exercices.

« Pourquoi tu nous aimes m’dame? »

C’est le petit Aziz qui avait posé la question.

« Hé bien je …je veux que vous réussissiez dans la vie. »

« Réussir quoi m’dame? »

« Réussir votre vie, avoir du travail, trouver une femme, fonder une famille. »

« Tout ça, tout ça! »

C’est Abdoul qui au fond de la classe faisait cette remarque entre moquerie et dérision. Patricia s’en trouva un instant déstabilisée. Etait il possible Afyon Escort Bayan que des enfants si jeunes soient déjà si conscients que leur futur ne serait pas rose? Était il possible qu’ils soient à ce point lucide?

« T’casse pas la tête m’dame. »

C’était Abdoul encore. Patricia ouvrit la bouche pour lui répondre mais Abdoul prit les devant.

« On sait bien que notre avenir est tout pourri. Regarde comment tu es fringuée, jamais on trouvera une femme comme toi, et si on en trouve une, jamais elle voudra de nous. »

Patricia rougit encore, elle pensa soudain au jeans de marque qu’elle avait mis et le corsage couteux qu’elle avait dissimulé sous sa veste.

« Mais non, mais non. » voulut elle protester.

Abdoul s’était levé et venait vers elle en la regardant dans les yeux.

« Regarde! Tu vois comment t’es fringuée? Jamais aucune femme dans la cité ne pourra se fringuer comme toi! Rien que ton pantalon il vaut des thunes, et puis ton truc la, il montrait le chemisier, ouais, ton truc la c’est pareil. »

Il était maintenant devant elle, presque à la toucher et Patricia sentait l’odeur forte qui émanait du garçon, une odeur entre le fauve et la crasse. Elle frissonna, se sentit soudain en danger et commença à trembler. Abdoul souriait en la regardant, il n’était pas dupe, il savait qu’il l’impressionnait et il voulu pousser son avantage.

« Et puis ce qu’y a dessous, ça doit aussi valoir des pions! Tu nous montres m’dame? »

Les ricanements qui accueillirent la proposition finit de désarçonner Patricia. Elle recula contre le mur, tremblante et apeurée. Abdoul souriait, il hocha la tête et recula, puis retourna s’assoir.

« Rassure toi m’dame, je te ferai rien, je veux juste dire que toi et moi on est pas du même monde. »

Patricia se sentait les jambes flageolantes et il lui fallut un certains temps pour retrouver une contenance et la force suffisante pour continuer le cours.

En fin de compte tout alla bien jusqu’à la fin et Patricia remit rapidement ses affaires en ordre avant de se diriger vers la sortie. Elle se retrouva devant le parking non éclairé. Il lui fallut un certain temps pour que sa vue s’habitue au noir d’encre.

« Rassure toi m’dame, on va te reconduire à ta voiture. »

Patricia sursauta, elle faillit même pousser un cri mais en fin de compte ce fut une plainte qui sortit de sa gorge. Le grand black se trouvait près d’elle, elle en distingua la peau luisante malgré l’obscurité. Bientôt elle sentit deux mains qui la prenait par le bras et l’entrainait dans le noir. Par peur du ridicule elle ne dit rien mais sa peur était bien réelle. Elle essaya de se remémorer la disposition des lieux quand soudain la silhouette de sa voiture apparut. Elle s’empressa d’ouvrir la porte et se précipita à l’intérieur. Avant de refermer la porte, elle eut le temps de voir à la lumière du plafonnier, les faces plus ou moins ironiques de trois des garçons qui l’avaient accompagnée.

Elle démarra.

« Bon c’est pas tout les mecs, y a du taf. » Abdoul avait parlé.

« Aziz, tu vas avec Momo chez lui chercher le matos, moi je vais avec Nourédine voir les clients et les faire patienter, magnez vous le cul avant les flics. »

Les gamins disparurent dans le noir et Abdoul appela Nourédine. Quand la silhouette furtive se glissa près de lui, il lui demanda:

« Qu’est-ce tu penses de tout ça? »

« De quoi répondit l’autre? »

« Bin…la prof. Tout ça? »

« Tu comptes t’occuper d’elle? »

« Et comment! »

« Fais gaffe mec »

« Pourquoi? »

« C’t’une bourge, j’veux pas d’embrouilles dans la cité. »

Un sourire traversa la figure d’Abdoul.

« T’en aura pas mec! »

Le soir même Patricia se remémora avec une certaine frayeur rétrospective son aventure dans la nuit des Bosquets. En même temps, elle s’en voulut d’avoir été aussi susceptible et facilement émotive. Son trouble et son indécision l’énervait. Elle pouvait tout lâcher, aller voir le curé, lui expliquer que finalement c’était pas son truc. Mais la culpabilité la rongeait déjà, rien qu’à l’évocation d’une reculade. Elle chercha des arguments positifs, elle en trouva. A l’analyse, cette séance ne s’était pas si mal passé. Il fallait qu’elle les comprenne ses gosses et demain elle rectifierait les tir, plus de fringues hors de prix, des trucs simples et passe partout. Il ne fallait surtout pas de provocation et tout irait bien. Elle réussi à se persuader et trouva enfin le sommeil.

Quand elle se présenta le lendemain dans la cité, elle avait mis le vieux jeans qui lui servait au jardinage, un vieux pull un peu informe d’avoir été trop porté et un imperméable qui la couvrait presque jusqu’au pieds.

Effectivement, son cour se passa sans souci, ses cinq jeunes étaient la, attentifs, voir même studieux et Patricia se dit que cette fois elle avait tout bon.

Elle annonça la fin du cour et rangea ses affaires. Elle nota juste que Abdoul dans le fond avait sorti de sa poche Escort Afyon ce qui ressemblait à une cigarette et l’avait allumée. Des volutes montèrent vers le plafond, Patricia n’y prêta pas attention. Quand elle se retrouva sur le seuil de la salle, avant de se lancer dans le noir comme l’avant-veille, elle sentit la présence d’un des garçons.

« Partez pas comme ça m’dame! »

Patricia sursauta en se tournant vers celui qui l’interpellait ainsi. Abdoul la regardait, un large sourire aux lèvres.

« Tenez, vous allez tirer une taff avant de partir. »

Patricia considéra la cigarette qu’Abdoul lui tendait, elle se rendit alors compte que c’était un joint. Elle secoua la tête de gauche à droite sans pouvoir ouvrir la bouche. Abdoul la considérait avec bienveillance, toujours souriant il tendait toujours le joint vers elle.

« Allons m’dame, juste une petite taff avant la route. »

Patricia une fois encore était partagée. Si elle refusait cela pouvait mal tourner, et puis, que risquait elle à tirer juste une fois sur le pétard que l’autre lui tendait.

En tremblant, elle avança la main et prit le joint entre les doigts. Patricia n’avait jamais fumé auparavant et le geste était loin d’être naturel pour elle. Toujours tremblante, elle le porta à ses lèvres et aspira doucement. La fumée acre lui envahit la bouche et la gorge, provoquant une quinte de toux. La fumée lui sortit de la bouche et du nez, ce gout acre lui piquait la gorge.

Abdoul la regardait, toujours souriant. Il attendit qu’elle reprenne son contrôle mais elle trébucha et dut s’appuyer au mur. Sa tête se mit à tourner comme une toupie. Patricia ferma les yeux pour échapper au manège fou.

« Ca va m’dame? » entendit elle. Le questionnement avait quelque chose d’ironique.

« On va vous conduire à votre voiture. »

Elle sentit deux mains se saisir de ses bras et la tenir fermement. Elle se laissa conduire, mais arrivé à sa voiture, elle voulut fouiller son sac à main à la recherche de ses clés? La tête complètement en vrille, elle n’y arrivait pas, s’énervant à chercher ses clés. Mais sa main tremblait de trop, elle s’énervait et perdait le contrôle quand une main lui ôta son sac. C’était Aziz le petit crépu qui le lui avait subtilisé. Elle vit les doigts de Aziz plonger dans ses affaires, se saisir tour à tour de son porte monnaie, son chéquier, son poudrier et son bâton de rouge à lèvres. Sa main fouillait encore et il remonta à la surface un paquet de serviettes hygiéniques. Patricia baissa les yeux quand Aziz lui jeta un regard furtif, puis il reprit sa fouille. Enfin, triomphant, il tendit à Patricia son trousseau de clés. Son sourire barrait toujours son visage dans la nuit. Patricia se hâta de récupérer ses clés et s’engouffra dans sa voiture, mais au moment de mettre le contact, elle se rendit compte que sa tête tournait encore et lui fallut attendre que le manège en sa tête veuille bien s’arrêter. Les garçons la regardaient derrière son volant et elle précipita le mouvement, passant la marche arrière puis la marche avant en faisant craquer la boite et démarra après quelques soubresauts.

« Tu déconnes Abdoul » souffla Aziz.

« Et pourquoi je déconne? »

« T’aurais pas du lui donner ton chit comme ça sans prévenir»

« T’occupe, elle va y prendre gout! » Et il partit d’un rire gras dans le néant de la nuit.

Patricia eut un mal de chien pour revenir chez elle. Après le tournis, sa tête sembla revenir à la normale mais bientôt elle sentit bien que les choses n’étaient pas normales, tout semblait déformé, tout flottait sur une mer invisible. Consciente du danger, Patricia dut s’arrêter le long d’un trottoir. Elle ouvrit sa vitre en grand et inspira de grandes goulées d’air frais. Elle ferma les yeux et quand elle les rouvrit, la mer semblait s’être un peu calmé. Elle resta encore la, l’imperméable serré autour d’elle pour braver le froid et quand elle retrouva toute sa lucidité, elle redémarra pour gagner sa maison.

Elle fit de son mieux pour dissimuler à son mari et ses enfants son état un peu comateux, prétextant de la fatigue, elle se coucha tôt et plongea dans un sommeil agité de cauchemars.

Le lendemain elle resta chez elle cloitrée, encore abasourdie qu’elle ait eu l’audace de porter à ses lèvres un pétard. Elle se demanda si elle n’avait pas perdu conscience et au prix d’un grand effort, elle se remémora entièrement ce début de soirée jusqu’à son retour au bercail. a force d’effort de mémoire, elle arriva à la conclusion qu’à aucun moment elle n’avait perdu le fil de sa conscience. Elle en fut soulagée. Cependant, elle n’en revenait pas qu’elle avait osé tirer sur ce joint, mais en avait elle eu le choix?

C’est la question qui la taraudait encore quand le lendemain elle reprit la route des bosquets.

En arrivant, elle prit soin de garer sa voiture de façon à s’éviter des manœuvres pour le départ et elle se rendit à la salle polyvalente. Les cinq étaient la à l’attendre. Quand elle entra, des yeux curieux la détaillèrent, ceux des garçons, car Leila n’avait pas assisté à l’incident l’avant veille. Les garçons la regardaient sournoisement, Abdoul seul, feignait une profonde indifférence.

Ils se mirent au travail et rien ne vint troubler cette heure où ils firent sagement leurs devoirs.

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Lockdown Frustration Ch. 02

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Alison Brie

Hi everyone,

I was going to leave this story as a single entry but my imagination wandered again, so here’s a second chapter.

Thank you for all the amazing feedback, I’m so glad you all enjoyed Ch 1. This is my first time writing any kind of fiction and it means so much to me that my readers are enjoying my work.

Hope you also like this second chapter and I feel it would be irresponsible if I didn’t say: Remember this is fiction/fantasy, practice safe sex IRL Oh god, what did I just agree to? Trev thought.

They locked up and walked to Ethan’s car, he’d volunteered to drive. He bloody well should Trev thought. Since he had to go the entire night with this thing in his ass then he better be the one who gets to drink too. He climbed in and as he sat down the pressure of the seat against the plug made it thrust up into his prostate and he moaned in surprise.

“Everything ok?” Ethan asked innocently looking over.

“Bite me.” Trev replied giving him a mild, non-serious scowl.

“Oh, I plan to!” Ethan laughed.

Trev felt equal parts excited for Ethan to bite him, which he loved, and irritated at how much glee he seemed to be getting from Trev’s predicament.

They started their drive and after a few blocks Ethan turned down a residential road. “Where are you going? This isn’t the way to the pub.” Trev asked.

“Just taking a detour.” Ethan innocently replied. Trev looked over with confusion then all of a sudden, the car bounced vigorously over a speed bump causing the plug to bounce and prod against his prostate.

“Ooh .. FUCK!” Trev cried

“You alright over there?” Ethan asked

“You’re sadistic … Mmph.” Trev replied without any seriousness

Ethan laughed loudly “Hardly a way to thank your boyfriend for what sounds like a really great gift.”

Another speed bump. “Oooooh!” Trev moaned followed by heavy breathing. His cock was getting really hard from the constant stimulation and he really didn’t want to cum in his pants before they got there and risk an obvious wet patch.

Another speed bump. “Aaaah .. fuck! I don’t think I can handle this all night!” Trev cried.

Ethan chuckled, “Okay I think we’ve had enough of that. I’ll spare you any more speed bumps.”

Trev sighed “Thank you.”

They arrived at the pub 10 minutes later and Trev was still extremely wound up. Thankfully his pants were fairly loose so he tucked his erection under the waistband of his boxer briefs and cautiously walked inside.

“Hey! It’s the dynamic duo!” Eddie called out. This was followed by a synchronized “Hey!” from Simon and Ollie. They stood to give them hugs and clapped each other on the back.

“You go sit down, I’ll grab our drinks.” Ethan said to Trev with that naughty glint in his eye, like he knew exactly what was gonna happen in his ass when Trev sat. “Thanks,” he mumbled back with a look of irritation that the others missed.

Trev tentatively sat down very slowly, having learned that any sudden pressure would have a very unwanted effect, however pleasurable it may be. His full focus right now was on keeping his composure.

“So how was lockdown for you guys?” Simon asked Trev

“It was good. Pretty chill really. We just played games, worked out at the outdoor gym at the park and watched movies.”

Ethan had returned with their drinks when Trev was mid-sentence and chimed in with “Yea that’s why his biceps are bulging now, I’ve been training him hard.” he said with a smile at Trev while he passed him his beer. Trev took a couple of huge gulps trying to dull his senses a bit. Ethan knew he was making him a little nervous but he couldn’t help it, this dirty little secret was so sexy. None of their mates knew they spent two thirds of lockdown with their cocks buried in each other’s mouths and asses.

“Well, it paid off, I can see the difference!” Eddie said with a Balıkesir Escort look of open admiration which Trev found surprising.

“Thanks. What about you guys? You get up to much?”

“Nah, just chilled at my folks and worked. Unfortunately, IT can be done from home so no break for me,” Eddie replied.

Simon spoke up, “I was trapped with my pain in the ass flat mate, so mine sucked. I hid in my room most of the time.”

“You should move in with Eddie and get a flat together,” Ollie suggested

“I would but I stupidly signed a 6-month lease. Only 4 more to go, ugh.” Simon replied while taking a big gulp of his drink.

They spent the next 10 minutes chatting and then placed their food order when the waitress showed up. Trev was then listening to Eddie and Ollie having a debate about which of their preferred video games was better when suddenly his ass started vibrating. Trev gasped and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Eddie turned to him and asked “What, you think Diablo is better?”

Trev looked at Ethan, who was in the middle of a conversation with Simon and acting like he had no idea what the plug was doing, and seethed. Of course, the fucker kept this little feature a secret till they were with the guys! He looked back at Eddie “Oh, um … I ah ..no, I just realized I left something at Uni,” he lied. Eddie nodded then faced Ollie again and went back to their debate.

When Simon turned away to take a gulp of his drink Ethan slyly looked at Trev and winked while increasing the vibration. Trev’s jaw dropped and he started breathing heavier but quickly closed his mouth and did his best to hide what was happening in his backside. He thought the best way to get through this was to stay silent, pretending to listen to the discussions around him but really just using all his will power not to moan.

He tried to focus on the conversations around him but it just sounded like white noise. Then the vibrations in his ass changed when Ethan switched it to a pattern. It was on and off on repeat which felt so similar to being fucked, like how when Ethan is fucking him his cock head rubs Trev’s prostate when he thrusts in and out.

He couldn’t take it anymore; he was so close to cumming in his pants and the last thing he wanted was to have an orgasm in front of his friends at the pub. He said he’d keep the plug in but made no promises not to jerk off so he quietly and shakily stood to quickly escape to the bathroom without a word. He hoped the guys didn’t notice his shaky walk. Ethan saw Trev get up and knew exactly what he was going to do so he got up to quickly follow him.

Thanks to seating limitation post lockdown it meant the bathroom was empty, Trev was closing the stall door when it suddenly burst open with Ethan filling the door frame and pushing his way inside with him then locking it.

“You asshole!” Trev hissed

Ethan chuckled “You telling me it doesn’t feel good?”

“Fuck you!” Trev replied without any real anger and trying to keep his slight smile from showing.

“Later, definitely. But let me help you now,” he said while unzipping Trev’s pants and dropping to his knees in the confined space. He immediately swallowed as much of his cock as he could and started sucking hard.

Trev leaned his head back “Oohmf!” trying to muffle his moan. Ethan put his hand in his pocket and turned the plug back to solid vibrate and turned it up to high power. He could hear Trev panting hard. Trev’s hands suddenly went to Ethan’s head and he held him still while started thrusting his cock into Ethan’s mouth. He’d been on the verge for some time and was now desperate to cum. He knew Ethan could handle it and after Ethan had put him through hell, however pleasurable, he felt he owed him this.

It only took a minute before his balls tightened, he could feel the edge approaching then Balıkesir Escort Bayan suddenly “Aaaaahhh!”, he couldn’t hold back his cry of pleasure as he pumped his creamy ropes of hot cum down Ethan’s throat which he eagerly swallowed. Ethan knew they didn’t have long before the guys would start wondering where they’d gone so he stood up, unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock while looking at Trev lustfully.

Trev partially wanted to tell him to get stuffed and suffer, but he did really love Ethan’s cock and couldn’t deny the desire he felt to suck his boyfriend and make him climax. Plus, he supposed Ethan did follow him in to give him an incredible blow job rather than leaving him alone with his hand. He knelt down and started sucking. He knew it had to be quick so he did what he knew would get Ethan to the brink fast, he reached between Ethan’s legs to finger his ass only to feel something hard and metallic. He suddenly stopped, pulled his mouth off Ethan’s cock and looked up “What is that?”

“I got one for me too, mine doesn’t vibrate though,” he said with a knowing smile.

Trev had been so annoyed about having to wear his plug in public and going over the speed bumps on the way, meanwhile Ethan had been doing it the whole time too. How Ethan managed to hide his pleasure this whole time he had no idea but he did note to himself that Ethan’s plug didn’t vibrate so he hadn’t gone through the same torture Ethan had inflicted on him. Trev decided he’d punish Ethan at home but for now he dove back down on his cock since time was limited.

Trev looked at Ethan with a cunning smile and said “Grab your ass cheeks and spread them.”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose in surprise but did as he was told. Then Trev grabbed the end of the plug and pulled it out while diving down and sucking hard on his cock. “Ooooh,” Ethan mumbled. Then he plunged it back in “Uuuuhh,” Ethan stuttered trying to stifle his moans.

Trev picked up the pace since they really needed to be quick and started fucking Ethan’s ass fast with the plug, plunging it in an out relentlessly while he sucked his cock. Ethan was losing his mind, spreading his ass was somehow making the sensations even more intense. It also kind of felt like he was fucking someone while simultaneously being fucked with his cock submerged and his ass filled, and in a public place too. Definitely the most erotic thing he’s ever done!

Suddenly they heard the door squeak as someone entered and they froze. Trev looked up at Ethan with his mouth still full with his cock and a tight grip on the plug. Ethan looked down, arms still reaching behind him spreading his butt and silently mouthed “Wait,” which gave Trev a slightly sadistic thought: Payback is a bitch. So, Trev resumed his sucking, bobbing his head as Ethan’s shook his head but his eye’s closed in pleasure. He gasped then bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out. Trev then resumed fucking his ass with the plug, slow at first then suddenly hard and fast.

Ethan’s eyes flew open as he gasped again at the pleasure overtaking his body. He couldn’t help the grunt that escaped when Trev was fucking him hard with the plug. He could hear the sounds of the other person washing their hands and desperately wanted him to hurry up and leave. He was pulling his ass cheeks as far apart as he could while Trev kept on sucking, bobbing on his cock and plunging the plug in and out relentlessly.

They heard the footsteps leaving and the moment he heard the door closed he unleashed a torrent of cum down Trev’s throat and cried out “Ooooooooh!”, then quickly remembered to close his mouth as he groaned.

It was the most intense physical experience he’d ever had. He felt like his knee’s would give out from the intensity of his orgasm, he felt like his cock wouldn’t stop pumping his cum again and again into Trev’s mouth Escort Balıkesir while his ass was repeatedly clenching around the plug sliding in and out of him.

Finally, he sighed when his cock spilled the last drop and his balls were empty. Trev licked his cock clean, slid the plug back in and gave the end a slap to make Ethan shudder. He stood and they quickly did up their pants then exited the stall to wash their hands.

“You leave first, I’ll follow behind you in a minute,” Ethan said quietly.

Trev looked over and nodded, he knew what Ethan was thinking. That way they guys wouldn’t think they’d gone off somewhere together.

Trev left and quietly rejoined the group, grateful that the vibrating had been turned off. He took a big gulp of his beer and quickly sent a txt to Ethan, hoping he would read it before returning to the table.

– Don’t you dare turn it back on!

He got an immediate reply thankfully.

– I won’t, promise. It already achieved the desired result ;-D

He smirked to himself and let out a quiet sigh of relief, the plug was still firmly embedded in his ass so he was keenly aware of it but it wasn’t making him delirious anymore as long as he stayed fairly still.

Ethan returned and took his seat opposite Trev and smiled at him knowingly and Trev couldn’t help but smile affectionately back. Even though he’d been annoyed about the surprise vibrating in his ass at first, he had to admit the whole thing was an intensely erotic experience and could imagine many fun ways to utilize it in future.

Their food arrived and suddenly they were both ravenous and dug into their meals. True to his word, Ethan didn’t turn the vibrations on again and they were able to enjoy the rest of their catch up calmly. They all eventually said their goodbyes and, on their way out, had organized a gaming marathon at Ethan and Trevor’s house on Sunday. They got back in the car, both men sat down gently and looked over at each other to laugh.

“So, how do you like my gift then?” Ethan asked as he pulled out onto the road.

“It’s quite invigorating,” Trev replied with a smile.

“Thought you’d like it. Shall I take a detour on the way home then?” Ethan asked looking over with a smile.

“Sure, I’ve always enjoyed the scenic route.”

Ethan turned off the main road and drove over the speed bumps, this time he didn’t have to hold in his moans of pleasure.

Speedbump 1, “Ooooh” Trev cried as his plug rubbed his sweet spot.

Speedbump 2, “Fuuuuuck!” Ethan moaned. Trev cried “Mmm Ooooh … I’m gonna fuck you so hard when we get home!”

Speedbump 3 “Ooooooooh,” both moaned together. “I can’t wait.” Ethan replied

He turned back onto the main road, eager to get home quickly. As soon as the car was turned off, they both leapt out and ran to the boor while quietly moaning from the stimulation of the plugs jiggling inside them from their fast moving. The moment the door was closed Trev pounced on Ethan grabbing his hair roughly to tilt his head back while he plundered his mouth with his tongue and grinding their jean covered cocks against one another.

Trev pulled back and pushed Ethan toward the bedroom, making sure to spank his ass right in the middle on his way past, eliciting a deep groan from Ethan as he looked over his shoulder toward Trev with glazed eyes and a wicked smile. Trev didn’t waste any time striping Ethan’s clothes and ordered “Get on all fours, I’m gonna pound your ass.”

Ethan shivered with excitement at hearing that. He knew he’d pushed Trev’s boundaries a bit tonight so he was happy to comply with whatever Trev wanted from him now. He got naked and onto his hands and knees in the middle of the bed and waited. Trev stripped, grabbed the lube and then reached into Ethan’s jeans that were on the floor to find the remote to his plug. Ethan saw this and gave him a knowing smile.

Trev turned the vibration on again but at a low setting, he didn’t want to blow his load so soon this time. Ethan’s plug was still embedded deep in his ass and Trev took a moment to admire it. It was silver metal with a clear gemstone that looked like a diamond. Trev chuckled.

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La Saga du Cocu Chapitre 01

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Amateur

Le domaine des relations amoureuses n’est pas un long fleuve tranquille et peut prendre des tournants inattendus.

J’ai 25 ans, une situation professionnelle établie comme cadre dans une entreprise de produits pharmaceutiques. Laquelle m’apporte de confortables revenus. Côté cœur, je vis depuis quelques mois une histoire d’amour avec Chloé. Belle jeune femme de 22 ans. Elle mesure 1m75, blonde, avec de grands yeux bleus. C’est une fille magnifique, nous nous entendons bien et je suis très fier de m’afficher avec elle dans la rue main dans la main. Tout le monde nous voit d’ailleurs comme un joli couple. Nous ne vivons pas encore ensemble mais nous y pensons sérieusement.

L’été dernier pourtant, un événement aurait pu mettre fin définitivement à cette aventure. Je ne suis pas d’une nature jalouse et ne m’étais pas méfié même si j’avais déjà remarqué à quel point elle attire le regard des hommes.

C’était une soirée d’été. Climat agréable, atmosphère détendue, oisiveté et apéros à gogos… Je suis passé la prendre chez elle. Nous avions rendez-vous avec des amis dans un resto de plein air qui faisait également minigolf.

Comme il faisait chaud elle s’était habillée très court. Petite jupe plissée kilt, haut sexy mettant bien en valeur ses formes et laissant apparaître les bretelles de son soutien-gorge. Plutôt grande, elle portait en plus des petites chaussures ouvertes à talons ce qui lui affinait encore plus la silhouette. Ses longs cheveux blonds et fins maintenus par une barrette et un maquillage léger achevaient de la rendre irrésistible. Je ne l’avais jamais vue si en beauté.

D’apparence plutôt plate même limite maigre, elle était ce soir-là terriblement désirable. Je suis parti au quart de tour et lui ait quasiment sauté dessus. Elle m’a alors repoussé en me disant que ce n’était pas le moment que nous étions en retard et qu’il fallait y aller. J’ai donc repris mes esprits ravalé ma déception et nous avons rejoints nous amis. J’étais alors convaincu que mon heure viendrait et de ce n’était qu’une partie remise.

Arrivés sur place elle a évidemment fait un effet bœuf à tous les mecs présents. Cela ne me déplaisait pas et je me pavanais très fier de montrer que cette créature de rêve était avec moi. Puis nous avons retrouvés nos amis. Un groupe de garçons et filles de notre âge avec qui nous sortions d’habitude et plusieurs personnes relations de nos relations que nous ne connaissions pas encore.

Parmi eux nous avons fait la connaissance de Souleymane. Un grand black baraqué, malien je crois, d’environ 25 ans. Une caisse d’un bon mètre 90, ouvrier du bâtiment fraîchement débarqué ici. Mâchoire carrée, regard ténébreux. Il était habillé en pantalon cargo et portait un tee-shirt Marcel qui faisait ressortir ses épaules et ses pectoraux. A lui aussi ma copine lui faisait un petit effet. Mais j’ai tout de suite vu que ça allait encore plus loin que ça. Cela n’augurait rien de bon.

Nous avons alors commencé à jouer au minigolf. Pour rendre la partie plus attractive nous avons formé des équipes de deux par tirage au sort. Comme un fait exprès, Chloé et Souleymane se sont retrouvés ensemble. La configuration des lieux faisait que nous devions jouer les uns après les autres. Étant assez nombreux les premiers groupes ont vite été séparés des derniers. C’est ainsi que Souleymane et Chloé m’ont distancé peu à peu les tours passant.

Mes craintes commençaient à se vérifier. En effet, j’avais beau surveiller Chloé du coin de l’œil, à chaque fois que je l’apercevais je voyais Souleymane la serrer de plus en plus près. Il commence par la toucher par le bras, puis lui attrape les hanches, il la prend par la taille, il passe derrière elle pour l’aider à manipuler le club. Je commençais à bouillir. Ses mains baladeuses naviguaient beaucoup autour du postérieur de ma bien-aimée. Le pire est que Chloé semblait y prendre plaisir. Elle riait beaucoup. J’étais mal à l’aise et inquiet. Il me semble même l’avoir Adana Escort vue à un moment d’arrêt du jeu s’asseoir sur les genoux du black alors qu’il était assis sur un rocher. Cette situation ne me plaisait pas du tout. J’ai voulu en avoir le cœur net mais mon partenaire de jeu m’interrompit à ce moment là pour reprendre la partie.

Mickaël avait été désigné par le tirage au sort pour être mon équipier. C’est lui qui le connaissait Souleymane le mieux alors je décidai de la questionner.

—Souleymane? le centaure? ouais il est cool et sympa.

—Pourquoi le centaure?

—Tête d’homme, bitte de cheval. C’est un sacré queutard. Apparemment toutes les filles en sont folles.

—C’est à dire? demandais-je fébrilement.

—Oh je ne te fais pas dessin. C’est un sacré queutard répéta t-il. Il arrive toujours à ses taper les filles qu’il veut et qu’aucune ne lui résiste.

—Puisque t’en parles, fais gaffe à ta copine. Les belles blondes c’est justement son truc

Puis il s’en alla jouer son tour en me laissant avec ça.

À la fin de la partie, nous nous sommes retrouvés à table. Chloé m’a rejoint près de moi. ça commençait à aller mieux jusqu’a ce que Souleymane s’asseye de l’autre côté. Pendant le repas, le manège a continué. Chloé ne regardant que Souleymane visiblement séduite par l’assurance et le physique très avantageux de l’africain. Lui encouragé par mon silence a carrément entrepris de la peloter sous la table. Elle s’est laissé caresser les cuisses pendant tout le dîner.

Ces manigances avaient finies de me mettre de fort mauvaise humeur. J’aurais pu être soulagé par la fin du repas mais, nous avons tous convenus de nous retrouver à l’appart de Mickaël, un des invités, pour finir la soirée.

Sur le chemin, de nouveau seul avec Chloé j’ai bien tenté de la sermonner, de lui dire que je voyais ce qu’elle faisait. Mais elle m’a traité de rabat-joie me soutenant qu’elle n’avait rien fait de grave, que j’étais tout simplement jaloux. Ma mauvaise humeur ne me rendait pas très sympathique et je l’ai sentie irritée par mon attitude. Du coup elle n’a pas hésité à me provoquer en me disant qu’elle trouvait ce beau black très appétissant.

Chez Mickaël, nous avons bu quelques verres. Occupé par la discussion, je ne voyais pas que Chloé et Souleymane, silencieux, ne cessaient pas de se regarder. Puis le groupe à commencer à se disperser. En me saluant pour me dire au revoir un de mes copains m’a conseillé de mieux surveiller Chloé. A ce moment je me suis rendu compte que les petites manœuvres entre ma copine et Souleymane n’étaient pas passées inaperçues. Un sentiment de honte m’a alors envahit.

Soudain, alors que nous étions chez lui, Mickaël a pris ses affaires et s’est préparé à son tour pour partir. Quand je lui aie demandé pourquoi, Il m’a dit que Souleymane et lui ont échangés leurs apparts pour ce soir.

Voyant mon air surpris, il me dit alors sans détour que Souleymane lui a demandé ça parce qu’il a flashé sur Chloé et qu’il espère se la faire dès ce soir. Lui aussi avait remarqué les approches de Souleymane sur Chloé. Il ajoute que cela ne l’étonne pas et qu’il m’avait prévenu.

— Sans vouloir te décourager… me dit-il, il est vraiment balaise, il ne vaut mieux pas que tu tentes de l’en empêcher. Laisses tomber et viens avec moi. Une de perdue…

Abasourdi par cette révélation plutôt brutale, je réponds que je n’y crois pas que je ne suis pas d’accord et que je reste avec ma copine. Il n’a pas insisté et s’en est allé.

— Comme tu voudras!

Très inquiet après ce que m’avait dit Mickaël, je décidais de retrouver Chloé pour partir à notre tour. C’est alors que je vis que les choses sérieuses avaient déjà commencé. Dans la cuisine, Chloé était en train d’embrasser goulûment Souleymane et ce devant les derniers invités en train de partir. J’étais tétanisé. Je sentais le sourire moqueur des garçons et celui envieux des filles. J’étais comme fou. Adana Escort Bayan Elle avait pris le visage du black entre ses mains pendant que lui, lui tenait par les hanches. Ils ont mis plusieurs secondes à se rendre compte que j’étais là.

Je me suis mis à gueuler et me dirigea vers Chloé pour la dégager de Souleymane convaincu que celui-ci abusait d’elle. Il se tourna alors vers moi, me pris par le bras en me demandant de me calmer, de m’asseoir bien sagement sur le canapé du salon et de ne plus bouger. Je n’étais pas du tout décidé à me laisser faire alors il m’a attrapé et fait une clé de bras pour me forcer à m’agenouiller. Je n’ai rien pu faire il était vraiment très fort. Paniqué, fauché par la douleur j’ai cédé. Pendant que j’étais tordu sur le sol à récupérer, il est allé refermer la porte de l’appart après le départ des dernières personnes. J’étais humilié. Terrassé ainsi devant Chloé qui ne bronchait pas. Cette vision semblait même l’exciter. Revenu dans le salon, il m’a ensuite relevé et assis sur une chaise. Il m’a noué les mains derrière le dos et sur le dossier de la chaise avec une lanière de je ne sais quoi qui traînai là.

— Je suis désolé mais c’est pour t’empêcher de faire des bêtises me dit-il.

Chloé lui pris alors la main et sans un regard pour moi l’entraîna vers la chambre juste à côté.

L’alcool aidant j’accusais le coup attaché sur la chaise. Je vis leurs langues s’entremêler de manière très sensuelle. Chloé n’en pouvait plus, elle était survoltée et devait certainement avoir l’entrejambes très humide. Je compris avec horreur qu’elle était parfaitement consentante. Souleymane glissa alors ses grosses mains noires calleuses le long de ses longues jambes fines jusque sous sa jupe. Il attrapa alors sa petite culotte et lui arracha violemment d’un geste sur et sec. Elle poussa un petit cri de surprise puis se mit à rire en voyant ce qu’il restait de son slip sur le sol. À son tour, elle lui retira son tee-shirt et commença à caresser et à embrasser son torse d’ébène si musclé, du haut vers le bas, de ses larges épaules vers ses pectoraux bien saillants en descendant sur les abdos. Arrivée à la ceinture qu’elle retira doucement, elle ouvrit son pantalon laissant apparaître un caleçon bien gonflé sur l’avant pendant qu’il faisait voler son petit haut si sexy de l’autre côté de la pièce. Mon Dieu qu’elle est belle!

J’étais aux premières loges, ils se tenaient dans l’entrebâillement de la porte. Merde! Ce négro va sauter ma copine sous mes yeux. J’étais totalement humilié mais bizarrement, à ma colère et ma frustration se mêlait un sentiment d’excitation devant ce spectacle. Le contraste de leurs peaux était magnifique.

Chloé a alors baissé le caleçon de Souleymane laissant se dresser une bitte d’une taille impressionnante. Elle lui a tout de suite fait remarquer en ajoutant qu’elle n’en avait jamais vu d’aussi grosses. Puis l’a attrapé et l’a enfournée dans sa bouche. La taille du braquemart était vraiment ahurissante et lui posait quelques difficultés. Elle faisait ce qu’elle pouvait pompant le plus loin possible cet énorme pénis.

Quand je pense qu’elle a toujours refusé de me sucer sous prétexte qu’elle trouvait ça sale et qu’a la première vue de cette énorme bitte black elle n’a pas hésité une seule seconde. J’étais complètement détruit. Je hurlais, la suppliais d’arrêter mais en même temps mon excitation montait encore d’un cran devant cette scène incroyable.

Après plusieurs minutes de ce traitement, Souleymane ne s’est pas retenu plus longtemps et a lâché son épaisse purée sur le visage d’ange de Chloé. Elle a bien sûr avalé avec gourmandise. Un peu de sperme lui dégoulinait de la bouche sur le menton. Elle s’essuya avec les doigts s’y prenant en plusieurs fois puis les a léchés pour ne pas en perdre une goûte. La sensualité du moment m’avait rendu muet. De toute façon ils restaient sourds à mes cris. Une tempête venait de se déclencher dans Escort Adana mon caleçon. Ma propre copine suçait la bitte d’un autre devant mes yeux et ça me faisait bander. J’étais perdu. Je m’attendais à me réveiller de ce cauchemar.

Comme elle se relevait, il lui retira le soutien-gorge d’un seul geste puis sa jupe avec laquelle il s’essuya la fleur. Toujours sans un regard pour moi, ils retirèrent leurs chaussures et se dirigèrent entièrement nus vers le lit main dans la main.

À ce moment, caché par la cloison je ne voyais plus rien mais j’entendais tout! Chloé gémissait comme je ne l’avais jamais entendue. Elle hurlait à la fois de douleur et de bonheur d’être pénétrée si profondément par cette énorme queue black. À peine couverts par les grincements du vieux plumard de Mickaël, Chloé le suppliait tantôt de continuer encore plus fort, tantôt d’arrêter tellement la douleur était vive. Il lui criait des insanités :

— Salope! Chienne! Petite pute blanche!

Les fenêtres étaient grandes ouvertes et j’imagine que tout le quartier a dû profiter de leurs ébats.

Ils ont fait l’amour toute la nuit. Je pense que Chloé a eu droit à la totale : plusieurs pénétrations, levrette, 69 et même sodomie. Lui l’insultait et je l’entendais lui frapper les fesses. Ce porc prenant vraiment son pied. Ça a duré des heures et à chaque fois elle atteignait l’orgasme. J’étais à la fois déshonoré mais toujours très excité. J’avoue avoir eu de l’admiration pour le talent de cet africain si doué qui donnait tant de plaisir à ma dulcinée aussi facilement.

Plus tard dans la nuit, il s’est levé boire un verre. Pour la première fois il m’adressa la parole.

— Je te détache à condition que tu restes tranquille. Je t’autorise à te branler sur le canapé mais je t’interdis de t’approcher de la chambre!

J’acceptais docilement. Puis il me dit que ma copine était super bonne et que j’avais beaucoup de chance. On croit rêver! Après quoi il me confie son histoire surprenante, comme quoi lui et ses frères de couleur adorent se taper des pétasses blondes comme Chloé.

— Elles ne sont bonnes qu’à ça!

Ils ont même entamé une sorte de concours ou ils se prouvent leurs exploits grâce aux trophées qu’ils ramènent, à savoir des sous-vêtements des femmes qu’ils tronchent. Pour son compte, Chloé sera la n° 9. Demain matin il s’en ira et nous laissera tranquille. Après quoi il reposa le verre et retourna dans la chambre baiser Chloé encore une fois. A le voir comme ça : nu, son énorme sexe bandé, son parfait corps d’athlète et son cul galbé comme une statue grecque, je me rendais bien compte que je ne pouvais pas tenir la comparaison.

J’ai eu une pensée émue pour le père de Chloé. Un type pas très sympa et notoirement raciste et me suis demandé ce qu’il penserait de voir sa petite fille chérie satisfaite ainsi par un black.

Au matin, après avoir pris une douche ensemble qui dura un certain temps, ils se sont rhabillés, et Souleymane enfin rassasié a voulu partir. Il garda le soutien-gorge de Chloé en lui disant que si elle voulait le récupérer il faudrait qu’elle vienne le chercher. Elle lui a répondu que cela ne lui posait aucun problème ignorante qu’elle trônerait ainsi dans son tableau de chasse.

Elle était totalement conquise et je reconnais que l’autre l’avait réellement comblée.

Elle le complimenta sur sa virilité et sa performance de la nuit, lui donna son numéro de téléphone en indiquant qu’elle était prête à recommencer n’importe quand et de je n’y verrait pas d’objection. Enfin ils se sont longuement embrassés une dernière fois.

Sans un mot, j’ai raccompagné Chloé chez elle juste vêtue de son petit haut chiffonné et de sa mini-jupe couverte de taches blanches. Elle était rayonnante et heureuse.

Anéanti par cette soirée, je revoyais sans cesse la scène. Ma belle Chloé superbe blonde aux yeux bleus se faire remplir par ce puissant black. Cela n’arrêtait pas de me poursuivre. Pourtant, convaincu de l’avoir perdue, elle m’a rappelé deux jours plus tard. Elle voulait sortir, elle voulait me voir. Elle agissait comme si de rien n’était. J’avais dans la tête l’image de Souleymane et elle faisant l’amour mais j’étais toujours amoureux d’elle j’ai évidemment dit oui.

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Manhandled Ch. 07

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Amateur

I know it’s been awhile since Chapter 06. I apologize for the delay

David saw me walking over towards them, wearing nothing but my little black thong, smiled, then held Cory’s head all the way down on his cock. The blonde choked, but David didn’t seem to care. “Well hey Zach!” He said, giving me a wink. How are you?”

“Good.” I replied, looking down at the sexy blonde twink, who was gagging on David’s giant dick. David let go of his head, and he came up gasping for air, then looked up at me with beautiful blue eyes. A string of spit hung from his lower lip, and connected to the tip of David’s cock, which was drenched with spit. He was a sexy guy, fit, tan, with a beautiful face and stylish hair, which was trimmed short and platinum blonde. Gold hoops hung from his ears, and one in his septum. Several tattoos decorated his tan skin. I was a little jealous.

“Oh, it’s the hot lawn bitch!” He said in a smart assed tone.

“Hi, I’m Zach.”

“Get back to work, whore.” David said, slapping him hard in the face. Cory quickly went back to sucking David, who grabbed his hair and held it. He grinned at me and said, “You two can get acquainted later.”

Tom came up from behind me, and kissed my neck. “Hello sexy. How are you today?”

“Better now.” I replied, feeling his big hands on me.

“Come over here and met a good friend of mine.” Tom said, taking my hand and leading me towards the strange guy. “Zach, this is my good friend Jay.”

“Nice to meet you!” Jay said, looking me up and down. He looked like a guy who would be in a band, with long dark hair, a stubble beard and tattoos sleeving his arms and covering his muscular chest. He was much younger than Tom, probably in his late twenties.

“Nice to meet you too!” I replied. Damn he was hot.

Tom sat down on the outdoor couch, and patted a spot between him and Jay. “Sit down and watch the show, Zach.” I sat down between them and watched David, who was now shoving his balls in Cory’s mouth.

“He’s such a little whore.” Jay chuckled, rubbing the bulge in his flowered swim trunks.

“That he is. But that’s why we love him!” Tom said, putting his hand on my thigh.

“It sure is.” Jay agreed. I could see he was rubbing his dick harder now.

“Zach, what is the matter with you?” Tom asked. “Jay’s cock obviously needs attention. Why are you just sitting there?” Jay looked at me, rubbing his dick and grinning. Without hesitation, I obediently got on my knees, and he slipped off his swim trunks, exposing his cock, which was a fat seven inches and stood at attention. I got between his Bolu Escort legs, and quickly put it in my mouth. Jay pushed my head down, making me take it all.

“Oh yeah!” He groaned. “That’s what I was needing.”

“I apologize that you had to wait.” Tom said, sounding upset. “This one is still a work in progress. He’s coming along nicely though. But of course, we will need to punish him later.”

“Oh of course!” Jay said with a laugh. “He’s got a deep throat though. Damn.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a great little cocksucker. He has a tight little pussy too. Well, maybe not today. We beat him up pretty good last night.”

“Yeah, It sucks that I had to miss that.”

“Well, you’ll have to make it up to him today.”

“Oh, I will.” Jay laughed, while I sloppily slurped on his dick.

“That’s a good boi.” Tom praised. “Be sure to lick his balls too.”

I immediately went down to his balls, which were shaved smooth, and sucked them while stroking his dick. “Oh yeah, fuck!” Jay groaned. “Yeah boi. Shit!”

“That’s it, Zach. Treat him good. Maybe he won’t be too rough on you!”

“Now Tom, Don’t get the bitches hopes up!” Jay laughed, grabbing my hair and putting my head back down on his dick. “Don’t listen to him boi. I’m gonna be really rough on you now. I don’t care how good you suck cock, faggot.” Tom laughed, and Jay held me down until I was squirming, then let me back up. “Get up here.” He said, pulling me up so I was straddling him. He gave me a sloppy kiss, then asked, “So, did they fuck you good last night?”

“Yeah.” I said softly. He was so intense. The way he looked at me gave me chills. I was incredibly turned on.

He spanked me, really hard. “That’s yes sir bitch.”

“Yes sir!” I cried, feeling the sting spread across my already bruised and sore ass.

“Show me. I like to see a beat up pussy.”

“Yes sir.” I whimpered, not sure if I should move or not.

“Hurry up.” He said, sounding impatient. I stood up and turned around, bent over and pulled the thong out of the crack of my ass. “Spread your checks.” He ordered, and I pulled em apart. “Oh, yeah, boy. That thing looks like a used pussy. I like that. Fuck that’s sexy.” He gave it a lick. “Mmmm tasty too. I like a beat up pussy even more than a tight one.”

“Isnt that a pretty ass?” Tom asked.

“Yes it is.” Jay agreed. “Boy, go get the lube. I’m gonna fuck you now.”

I walked over to the bar, where I knew Tom kept lube, and saw Cory bent over a table, getting railed hard by David. I got the lube, and walked back. Jay had stood up, and pointed Bolu Escort Bayan at the couch. “Get up there bitch.” He barked. I climbed onto the couch beside Tom, onto my knees and bent over the back. Jay wasted no time, lubed my hole and pressed his dick against me. My pulverized pussy offered little resistance, and he slid right in. “Oh, yeah, that’s how I like it!”

“Stick that ass out and arch that back, Zach.” Tom coached.

“That’s right, just like that. Oh yeah!” Jay said, slapping my ass. “How’s that dick feel, boi?”

“It feels good sir!” I groaned. It actually hurt, slamming in and out of my sore hole, but I was enjoying it. Jay gripped my waist, and banged away at me, his pelvis making slapping noises on my ass. Tom’s dick appeared in front of me, so I opened my mouth and he shoved it in, so now I was being stuffed at both ends.

“Yeah, Jay, fuck him up and turn him out.” Tom said, fucking my throat. “He is loving this. This is just what a horny little bitch like him loves!”

I heard them both laugh, then Tom took his cock out of my mouth and disappeared. I just put my head down on the back of the couch, and enjoyed the feeling of Jay’s cock up my ass.

“Fuck boi, I’m about to breed that ass.” He moaned, after fucking me for what felt like an hour. His hands wrapped around my neck, and I heard him grunting, then after a low, long moan, I knew he had bred me. He pulled his dick out quickly, and I could feel wetness dripping out of me. “Fuck!” He said, spreading my cheeks. “That’s fucking sexy, there!” I stood up and looked around, and saw Tom fucking Cory. He had the blonde bitch on his back on a table, with his legs spread wide.

“Come over here Zach.” Tom demanded. I immediately complied. “On your knees.” He barked, pointing at the ground beside him. I quickly knelt down, my face just inches from his thigh, and watched him poind away at Cory’s ass. Without warning, he pulled his dick out of Cory, and stuck it in my mouth. It didn’t taste bad, it just tasted like lube. “How’s Cory’s ass taste boi?” He asked, and the other two men laughed. He shoved himself back in Cory, fucked him a little more, then came. When he was done he pulled his dick out again. I could see cum all over Cory’s gaping hole. “Clean him up boi.” Tom instructed. I did as I was told, and licked his cum from Cory’s ass.

“Damn. That is fucking hot!” David remarked.

“What a nasty slut!” Jay said.

Their comments were degrading, but they turned me on. I stuck my tongue further in Cory, and he began to moan. “Good boi Zach! Eat that sloppy Escort Bolu pussy!” Tom praised. “Damn, I like that. So, Zach, do you want to fuck him?”

“Can I?”

“Sure. You can fuck him, then he can fuck you.”

I stood up, and got between Cory’s legs, then pulled my cock out of my tight swim trunks. It slid easily in his sloppy hole. “Oh yeah!” He whispered, looking up at me. He was so beautiful and girly. It was almost like fucking a girl. His hole was so wet. Tom got behind me, and started playing with my nipples and licking my ear.

“Cum in him boy. Make him your bitch.” Tom whispered. Jay and David stood watching with lewd grins.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” I screamed, and erupted into Cory.

“Alright, your turn.” Tom said, and I slid my dick out.

Cory looked up at me, smiled, and said, “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this!” He stood up, kissed me, and then bent me over the table. When he entered me, I was surprised by how long his dick was, and how deep he went. But what really surprised me, was how hard he fucked me. He really banged me hard, pulling my hair, and slapping my ass. “You like that cunt?” He snarled, fucking me even harder.

“Oh yes!” I cried. As he fucked my wet, destroyed hole.

“Oh yeah! Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” He squealed, then I felt his whole body shake. “Damn, that’s hot pussy.” He said, pulling out of me. Then I felt him licking my ass, and heard the men cheer.

“Well that was fun.” David remarked.

“That was fucking hot!” Jay said.

I stood up, but felt dizzy. I looked around and saw Cory behind the bar making Tom a drink. David sat down, and Jay stood there looking at me. I tried to compose myself, but felt disoriented. After all the hard fucking, my orgasm was so intense.

“Well, hey Tony!” David said, looking towards the gate. I looked and saw a man with a shaved head, long goatie and thick tattooed arms walking towards us. He looked mean, like a biker.

“Hey.” Tony said gruffly.

“Hey Tony!” Tom said happily, walking over and giving the man a hug. Cory ran over and gave him a kiss, and Tony reached down and gave his ass a squeeze.

“How’s my sexy bitch?” Tony asked Cory.

“Mmmm I’m so good sir!” Cory replied, sounding very happy.

“So, is that the new boi?” Tony asked, looking at me.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Tom said.

“Nice.” Tony replied. “Is he gonna party with us tonight?”

“Well I don’t know.” Tom said. “Are you gonna hang out for awhile Zach? We’re gonna have a little party later.”

I saw they were all looking at me. “Uh, yeah, sure.” I said, wondering what the party would be like.

“Great!” Tom said. “Cory, why don’t you and Zach go shower, and make yourselves sexy.”

“Yes Daddy!” Cory said in a sassy voice. Before he walked away, he stuck his butt out and Tony slapped it. Then he took me into the house.

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Back to Back Pt. 08

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Babes

Artie

I couldn’t do it. When Miles walked through the door I could practically feel Marissa waiting for me to say goodbye, but I just couldn’t do it.

I thought maybe it was because the last time I said goodbye to him I didn’t see him for twelve years.

Maybe I was still weak from my complete breakdown, too.

Maybe, I was just weak.

When he said his plans were up in the air, my mouth was moving without conscious thought. Peripherally, I caught Marissa’s glowering, but I was focused solely on the way Miles beamed at whatever it was I said.

His smile filled me and immediately I was reminded of why being around him was so dangerous.

I almost fell into the spiral, but I dragged myself out of it.

I decided to let myself enjoy my time with Miles, just for a few days.

********

Miles

The drive to Portland was about two hours, and most of it Artie and Marissa were jabbering. I was in the back. Not sure how the tallest one got stuck sitting bitch but I’m sure Marissa had something to do with it. So I sat in the middle, right in her rear view..

They tried to include me in conversation but my responses were minimal. Eventually, they just continued on without me, going a million miles a minute. They were going so fast their conversation was practically unintelligible nonsense to me anyway. I think they were discussing a T.V. show?

Honestly, I was thinking about Nat. I thought about her the whole time I was at the gym and I was still thinking of her then.

When I saw Artie crying, I sprang to action. There was no thinking involved, my inner monologue completely silent. I was driven purely by instinct. The sadness and desperation behind his eyes, they killed me. I would have done whatever it took to bring him some peace. Even before, when I just suspected Artie was struggling with something, I was proactive. I was calling Marissa or trying to get him to open up.

With Nat, I knew for months she was dissatisfied with me. And I did nothing. I let her fall to the wayside.

It was like I completely forgot about her. I was angry and disappointed in myself.

********

Marissa’s place was nice, much nicer than she made it out to be. On the way there she forewarned us that she had a two bedroom, but the bedrooms weren’t much. She said the entire place was small, even called it a shoebox.

But, her apartment building was impressive. It was an old building, or at least the architecture made it look like one. Gleaming fixtures and marble everywhere. Romanesque columns and tasteful furniture. The completely gold elevator was playing fucking soft jazz.

When we walked into her apartment on the top floor the last thing I noticed was the size. The entire wall of her dining area was floor to ceiling windows overlooking the bay..

“Damn, Marissa… Nice digs.” I dropped my shit and walked straight to the windows.

“Nice digs.” She mocked me.

“Are you thirteen?”

“Yeah, thirteen inches deep in your mom.” I said to the window as I flipped the bird over my shoulder.

“Hey!” I heard Artie yell.

“That’s my joke.” He said.

Marissa muttered to herself, shaking her head and exiting the room.

I went back to admiring the view.

“C’mon.” Artie grabbed my forearm and pulled me away from the windows.

Marissa gave us a tour of her apartment, which took all of five minutes. Her apartment was nicely decorated, in a way that was so cohesive I know it must have been pre-furnished. The primary bedroom had a decent sized ensuite and like the guest bedroom and the dining area, had giant fucking windows. I’d kill to live in a place with a view like that

“You guys can put your stuff in here.” Marissa said as she showed us to our room

The guest bedroom definitely fit the description of ‘shoe box’. It was large enough for a queen bed and a dresser. That was about it. There were tiny, and I mean tiny, bedside tables on either side of the bed. Stools, basically they were stools.

“Your parents don’t want the bed?” I asked the room.

There were maybe two long seconds of complete and utter silence. Nobody said anything, nobody moved. The air went thick and still.

Artie and Marissa’s eyes met for a split second, before Marissa responded as if nothing happened.

“Just us three, this year.” She turned around and walked straight out of the room.

“Bathroom is across the hall, extra linens are in the bathroom closet. I’m going to start dinner in a couple of hours, so do whatever.” Marissa yelled as she walked to her bedroom.

I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I hate it when that shit happens, people communicate paraverbally while I’m right there. I can never fucking pick up on what’s going on. My first instinct was to pick Artie up, baseball pitch him onto the bed, and then wrestle information out of him. But family shit… clearly, he didn’t share for a reason.

So instead, I schooled my features and pretended nothing happened just like Marissa. Artie’s relief was nearly imperceptible, but I caught it. The slightest sigh Burdur Escort of relief when I just started moving our shit from the entryway to our room.

“You brought the switch?” Artie asked as he eyed the case peeking out of my duffle.

“Duh.” I handed it to him.

He disappeared in a flash, and as I was unpacking my shit I could hear furniture moving around and wires slapping the floor.

Fuck it, unpacking could wait. I charged to the living room, ready to destroy Artie at his video game of choice.

*********

Artie

Soft acoustic music was playing off of the speaker in the kitchen, starkly contrasted by me and Miles’ shouting and wrestling on the couch.

Occasionally, when Miles and I would cause a jarring enough noise from hitting the floor, or the wall, or the furniture, Marissa would yell at us to break it up. We’d cool down for a minute. But, inevitably we’d get right back to it pushing and smack-talking, trying to sabotage each other.

I’m pretty sure Miles was letting me win, but I beat him a bunch of times.

Either way, I still rubbed it in his face.

Just a few hours before, everything felt empty. I felt empty. My life, the dorm, everything. It was only the three of us in the apartment, but to me it was a full house. The two most important people to me were together under one roof, it was hard to be worried about much of anything.

The aroma of whatever it was Marissa was cooking wafted in from the kitchen and my mouth was watering. I hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, but suddenly it was back in full force. I was getting fidgety, I was so hungry.

When Marissa announced dinner was ready Miles and I glanced at each other for maybe a millisecond, before racing to the table.

Clearly, Miles and Marissa got over whatever they had against each other because while I was inhaling my food, they were talking it up. Miles told Marissa about the business frat, what he’s been making me do in the gym, how classes have been. He was a real chatterbox today, and he had this grin on his face all through dinner. I appreciated it. Not only did it give me time to eat, but it was like taking an antidepressant.

I remembered briefly I was supposed to be “recalibrating”, sans Miles. But looking over the table at him and Riss, I knew it would’ve been stupid to deprive myself of this feeling.

I ate until I was too lethargic to continue lifting my fork. But we just sat around the table full of empty dishes, talking and laughing. Marissa used to be in the same business fraternity we were and she was recounting her many antics from her time on campus.

I couldn’t believe there was a time I ever thought business fraternities were professional.

Soon, even leaning back in my chair wasn’t enough. I needed to be horizontal, so I excused myself from the table. Probably not the most courteous but I was nearly debilitated by the pressure in my stomach. So, Marissa and Miles could eat a bag.

Miles, being Miles, cleared the table without a word. Pretty sure I heard him loading the dishwasher, too. But, I was already half out of it laying all the way across Marissa’s minuscule couch.

“You don’t have to do that.” Marissa said, but I knew how much she hated doing dishes.

“I don’t mind at all, you made dinner.” More clanging.

“I haven’t been able to use a stove in a brick though, you mind if Artie and I cook something one of these days?”

“I mean, shoot, go right ahead. But, you’ll probably have to go to the store. I don’t have much in the house.”

“Okay, word.”

Marissa appeared next to the couch, leaning down next to my head.

“What does ‘in a brick’ mean?” She whispered.

I snorted.

“That’s Miles-speak for a long time. I think a ‘brick’ can also be a long distance.”

She looked perplexed, and I did not blame her at all.

Marissa got situated in the recliner and put on the TV, and I just rested my eyes while she scrolled through the channels. Her couch was kind of a piece of crap but I couldn’t have been more content. For the first time in almost a month, it felt like my mind was still.

Suddenly I was being jostled and shoved. Miles pushed me face down and almost over the edge as he shimmied his way between me and the back of the couch.

Marissa’s couch was not the biggest. A tiny little L-shaped sectional that was basically a loveseat and a chaise lounge put together. I left most of the chaise part for Miles. But, I guess he wanted to lie down too.

I can’t say I was bothered by it, he makes a great blanket.

I just listened with my eyes closed, enjoying their company. Marissa didn’t last long. She’s never been a night owl, but she had an early meeting tomorrow on top of that. Tiredly, she wished us a good night and went to bed.

Miles immediately switched to ESPN, apparently excited for the upcoming football games. I didn’t really keep up with football, so I tuned out even further. The day was starting to catch up with me and I felt myself slowly losing consciousness.

I could’ve moved to Burdur Escort Bayan the recliner and let Miles have the couch. I should’ve, even.

But, I didn’t. I just laid there and allowed Miles’ warmth to soothe me to sleep.

********

Miles

Watching the sports forecast and laying with Artie, not sure it got much better than that. Part of me still couldn’t believe he was actually spending time with me. I was taking as much of it as I could get. But, Artie was passed out and I was ready to knock too. I just didn’t have it in me to disturb him.

He seemed so satisfied, falling asleep with what seemed like the tiniest little smile on the corner of his lips.

I saw Artie smile more today than I had in a long ass time. I didn’t even realize the weight seeing Artie so down was putting on my shoulders. I felt free as a fucking bird seeing him so happy today. Laughing, yelling, joking, wrestling with me.

I guess I should’ve called Marissa a lot sooner.

I still wasn’t really sure what was going on with him. He asked me not to make him talk about ‘it’. What is ‘it’? Beyond me. I was itching to just strong-arm him into telling me what the fuck was going on, but the last month taught me all that would do is push him away.

So, I let it be, decided to take it one day at a time. He seemed happier, that’s what mattered.

Eventually, the couch was starting to dig into my back and I knew I couldn’t put going to bed off any longer.

I lifted myself off Artie carefully, stretching my already aching back out once I got to my feet.

Fuck that piece of shit couch. I just picked Artie’s ass up bridal style. He would be cranky as fuck in the morning if I let him sleep on that all night.

As I was about to walk into the guest room Marissa shuffled out of her bedroom, empty water glass in hand.

She was wearing fluffy slippers. Fluffy bunny slippers. Pink, with little ears sticking up.

“Nice kicks.” Couldn’t help myself.

“Why are you whispering?” She retorted.

“You’re not going to wake him up.”

I looked down at Artie, his head hanging limply off of my arm. She had a point.

“Nice slippers.” I said confidently, walking into the guest bedroom and kicking the door closed.

********

The next morning I woke up bright and early. I specify because that morning I realized the downside of all those goddamn windows. Asscrack of dawn and it’s already too bright to keep sleeping. I had no clue how Artie did it. He just kept sleeping, completely undisturbed.

I got right to it. On the way in I caught a sign for an “activity center”, and I was correct in assuming it was a gym. Well, “gym” was generous. But, it had a bench, squat rack, and some free weights. Enough for a half decent lift.

By the time I finished my workout and showered, the McMillan siblings were still dead to the world. Pretty sure Marissa had a meeting in an hour, but seemed like a her problem.

That kitchen had been calling my name since the second we walked in. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I love to do it, especially for other people. I checked my phone and there was a grocery store within walking distance from the apartment. In a minute, I was out the door.

It was a beautiful morning in Portland. The air was cold, I can’t lie, but the salty breeze and bright sun were worth it. I was lavishing in it, slowly strolling down the busy street.

When I got back Marissa’s dress shoes that had been by the door were gone. The apartment was silent, and smelled like the pot of coffee she must have brewed on the way out.

I unpacked everything and got ready for a full feast. Mise en place or whatever. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, orange juice. Whatever people ate for breakfast, I got. I don’t know, Artie can never turn down breakfast.

Like clockwork, as soon as the meat became fragrant I heard movement from the guest bedroom. Then two feet pattering on the wood floor before Artie, still wrapped in the blanket from last night and hair sticking up in every direction, came barreling out of the bedroom. He charged directly toward me, not slowing even slightly, colliding with me and slamming my lower body into the cupboards.

“Good morning, frickhead. Is the food ready, or what?”

He looked up directly at me with exasperation, as if he’d been waiting for weeks.

For a moment, it was like I couldn’t recognize him.

His eyes, which I had become so used to seeing dark and glued to the floor, were bright and wide. The purple circles almost nowhere to be found and his brows high, challenging me.

A smile spread over my face.

“You got meat?” I asked as I offered him the tongs.

Artie snatched the tongs out of my hands and manned his station. In no time we had a full spread ready to be crushed. We plated up and sat on the bench at the dining table, shoulder to shoulder.

It was a quiet meal, but almost more fulfilling that way. Happily enjoying his plate, Artie was just smiling at me and the view of the bay. Practically bobbing Escort Burdur up and down in his chair as he chewed. The food was good, don’t get me wrong, but I was having more fun just watching him, relishing in his exuberance.

“What’re you looking at, fricker?” I guess I relished a little too long.

“Nothing, fricker.”

I swear to god Artie stuck his tongue out at me, before going back to his pancakes.

“What do you wanna do today?” I said.

Artie shrugged his shoulders, still occupied by the pancakes.

“Hang out with you.”

Pretty sure I got high when he said that.

*********

Artie

Miles is the worst. And the best. But I swear he loves making me miserable.

All morning, he spoils me. Cooking me breakfast, playing video games to my heart’s content. He ordered us a frickin pizza for lunch. I was living it up. We trashed Marissa’s living room. The couch just sucked so bad we moved the coffee table and spread out on the floor.

But that was where the spoilage ended. My suspicions that Miles was letting me win all this time were proven true, because he annihilated me. Complete desolation. I lost round after round after round. And it was like he was barely even trying, occasionally playing with one hand as he sipped a drink or took a bite of food in the middle of the game. I think my eyebrows were going to be permanently pressed together from how hard I was focusing just trying to keep up.

We had been playing for hours and I had FINALLY gotten a chance at beating him at Mario Kart. But on the final stretch with Miles tailing right behind me, he slapped the entire remote out of my hand.

I couldn’t even go after it. I was just frozen. Incredulous.

“Mi… You…”

I look over and he’s just grinning smugly to himself as the game whistled, signifying his victory.

I pounced.

“YOU. Fricken. MONSTER!” Yeah, I said it.

I laid him out on the floor, as I straddled his lap beating him over the head with whatever pillows were in reach.

“You’re evil! You fricken-“

And he just continued laughing, louder, and deeper. The sound flowed through me, any even playful anger was washed away.

Okay, maybe not all of it. I kept going. I put my hands around his neck and pretended to strangle him, shaking him back and forth. Still, he laughed.

“You’re supposed to be asphyxiating, not laughing.” I shook him some more.

“Right, right. My bad.” And then his whole body just went slack, playing dead.

But the edges of his mouth were twitching.

“Dead people don’t smile.”

He cracked, laughing.

“I can’t help it.” He said.

And then his eyes met mine.

All morning I’d been trying to keep my eyes to myself, but per usual with Miles, they’d stray toward him. Mine would catch his and he’s smiling at me, but not with his mouth.

“You keep looking at me like that.”

My hands weren’t around his neck anymore, they were together resting over his heart.

He shrugged.

“I missed you.”

I didn’t know something could make you feel good and like crap at the exact same time until then.

My chin fell and my eyes landed on my hands. I picked them up.

“I’m sorry, Miles.”

“Hey, don’t be.”

He gently lifted my chin while sternly looking into my eye. He shook his head.

“Don’t be.”

And then his arms were around me. The good kind of hug where his arms slid underneath mine and really wrapped me up.

I don’t know what I ever did to deserve him.

“I’m sorry, too.” I was lost in the hug. I didn’t realize what he said for a second.

“What? What could you possibly be sorry for?”

He shrugged again.

“Smothering you, being overbearing.”

I pulled out of the hug.

“Miles, you don’t smother me.”

He looked around for a second.

“Really?”

“I’m sitting on your lap.”

He looked down.

“So… I can hug you whenever I want?”

I couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe, it was then I should have established some boundaries. I didn’t.

I nodded and he laughed a short laugh, before bear-hugging me so tight the air in my lungs was compressed out.

“Too tight, too tight.”

“Sorry.” He let up a bit, but not much.

“We hug all the time, Miles.” Seriously, all the time. I was beginning to consider myself a seasoned pro at avoiding physical contact with him, but his hugs I could never turn down

“Not as much as we used to.”

He was right, I guess I just didn’t think he’d care.

I guess I just wasn’t thinking about him at all.

I felt myself sink.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” I finally piped up. I had just been sitting there, on his lap, thinking and overthinking, when it flew out of me, what felt like involuntarily.

“What’s weird?”

“How often we… touch.”

This time, he pulled back to look at me in disbelief.

“What’s weird about it? That’s how we are.” The look in his eye, it left no more room for questioning.

Right. That’s how we are.

I heard rattling from the front door. The knob jiggled, then turned, and Marissa walked in carrying probably eight bags of groceries.

She walked in to me sitting in Miles’ lap, with his arms around my waist and mine around his shoulders. I watched as her left eyebrow dropped and her right eyebrow slowly rose.

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The Double Daters

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Amateur

Imagine my surprise to find my best friend’s boyfriend seducing my new boyfriend not more than eight feet from where they thought I was sleeping…

* *

My name is Marie. I am a freelancer in Chicago. I’ve stayed unmarried into my thirties because I haven’t wanted to give up my independence–dating whomever I want–and because I couldn’t find a man that I wanted to wake up next to for the rest of my life.

But I’ve just this month started rethinking that. I met Steven at a party two months ago, and I’ve been captivated.

Steven is a living dream. Yes, it’s early in our relationship and maybe I have stars in my eyes. But he’s intelligent and funny. He’s also a good and honest person.

But I confess much of my immediate attraction was physical. His face is handsome with sharp cheekbones and a masculine jawline. I love his mouth–full lips and an impish smile framing perfect white teeth. He is average height and slim with muscles in the right places. He has large oval-shaped green eyes that hypnotize me and most other women. He has wavy black hair that shimmers in the light. And–double confession: I especially love his full, rounded ass–looking at it, caressing it, and more.

Even more fun: He becomes uninhibited in bed after only a couple of drinks. It doesn’t take much, considering that he drinks infrequently. He likes to dance at the local nightspots–though not very well, ha ha. When we go out, the drinks flow and we have fun and he usually attacks me when we get home. He loves to use his mouth on me and then to fuck me in every position. I love his cock and we make love several times a week, more on vacation.

Derek was the long-time boyfriend of my best friend Giselle. She and I have been friends for about ten years. She’s one of the few people I can talk about anything with. I mean everything. She knows all my secrets about boyfriends and dreams and life. We’d both sort-of known Derek before Giselle started dating him, and he had a bad reputation for trying to screw anything that moved. But women made it easy for him, as they chased him and seem to fall for him easily. He played the field and seemed to make it a point to not let any one of them get their hooks into him. Giselle had changed all that.

I have to admit he is good-looking, and he is a little taller and more muscular than Steven, but he’s not quite my type. Fortunately, I’ve never had any problems with him coming on to me.

Well, I do have just one little Derek problem, something nagging in my memory.

Giselle and I had started sharing an apartment early in our friendship, before Giselle met Derek and before I met Steven. Here’s the nagging memory: I once walked in on Giselle and Derek when she was feasting on his cock in the living room. He was naked from the waist up and was well built, to say the least. But the two of them stopped when they heard me enter, and her mouth left his dick with a plop. Derek was hung like a horse! His cock was stunningly long and thick, and with a huge, bulbous head.

Giselle turned and smiled at me in embarrassment, kneeling on the floor before that giant appendage. Derek made no move to cover himself and just looked over at me. For a moment I was frozen, staring at his cock. It was mesmerizing. Then I shook myself, apologized, and left the apartment.

He isn’t my type. Really. But that was a strangely erotic moment. Once in a while I recall clearly what I’d seen. It made me wonder. I now understood at least part of what made Giselle so into Derek. Sometimes when we were talking about men, she’d make remarks about Derek’s size and how amazing he felt when he was inside her.

But when I met Steven I was swept into my own romance, and for a couple of weeks I saw less of Giselle and Derek.

Then a weekend was coming up, and the four of us decided to go out for a couples evening. For me and Giselle a double-date with our boyfriends would be fun, and when they’d met Derek seemed to like Steven so it seemed we’d all enjoy each other’s company.

Almost right away it got a little strange.

After the first round of drinks had gone, I caught Derek staring at Steven’s ass as Steven went off to get the next round. I wrote it off to the alcohol. And, after all, Steven does have a great ass. But then Derek seemed to be staring at Steven’s crotch when he returned with the drinks.

Giselle and I then got talking again and we forgot about the boys. The next time I looked over the two men were sitting quite close to each other in the booth. The bar music wasn’t that loud, so it wasn’t like they needed to be so close to converse. I didn’t know what to make of that.

A little later Giselle and I went off to the bathroom for a few minutes, and when we came back I was surprised to see Derek and Steven sitting even closer to each other, if that was possible, their thighs touching and their heads angled close, talking privately between them. It was like they hadn’t even noticed we’d gone and returned.

That Bolu Escort didn’t matter, though, because a minute later Derek looked up and suggested we go someplace more comfortable.

Giselle suggested our apartment. As it happened, we’d all gone in Giselle’s car, and I sat in the front seat to keep her company while Derek and Steven climbed into the back.

I happened to look back a minute late and saw Derek casually take Steven’s hand and put it in his lap! What communication between the two of them had led to this? I saw Steven’s hand flex as he squeezed what was there. I could imagine clearly what he was feeling, as I again recalled what I’d seen that time I’d walked in on Giselle and Derek. The two guys didn’t seem to have noticed my glance, and I turned back to stare out the front window of the car, trying to process what seemed to be happening in the back.

By the time we got back to the apartment, the guys were sitting a little separated, like nothing had happened. We all went inside, and Steven went to the bathroom. I got everyone a drink.

We have two couches that face one another and a coffee table in between, as well as a reclining chair facing the couches. Giselle had taken the recliner, and Derek seated himself on the other couch across from it close to the TV.

I turned on the television with the sound off and put some music on the stereo. I left the lights off as the television gave off enough soft, flickering light. Steven was still in the bathroom. So I laid out on the couch opposite to the one Derek was on.

Steven entered the living room, finally returning from the bathroom, and hesitated. I saw him look at the space on the couch next to Derek, look over and see that I had occupied the entire length of the other couch. He then went and sat on Derek’s couch, though at the other end of it.

We all sipped our drinks and talked for at least an hour, and then Giselle fell asleep in the recliner. I noticed it was 2:30 AM–where had the time gone? I was running out of steam too. But the two men seemed to be alert and enjoying their drinks and talking on the opposite couch.

Before I knew it, I was waking up from having fallen asleep. I don’t know how long I’d been napping but it must have been a while. I woke to find Derek sitting closer to my boyfriend than when I first slipped off. They were both in quiet conversation. Neither paid attention to me so I decided to pretend to still be asleep and listen.

Even though they were speaking in low tones, I could hear Derek telling Steven how handsome he is and how lucky I was to have him. Steven said a quiet thank-you to him as he gazed into his eyes. Derek put his right arm on top of the couch behind him. He continued to compliment him about his appearance–his hair, his cheekbones, his mouth. With that he did briefly press his finger against Steven’s lips, which in the flickering light looked glossy and fuller than usual.

Steven beamed like an infatuated schoolboy. He seemed captivated by Derek’s looks and his direct personality. He then returned the compliment to Derek, telling him that he thought he was strong and … after a pause … sexy. At that, Derek slowly dropped his hand to Steven’s shoulder, and then pulled him towards himself and kissed him on the lips.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but I stifled a gasp and forced myself to remain still.

Steven hesitated, and then slowly reciprocated Derek’s kiss. Derek brought his other hand to Steven’s chest and they kissed passionately.

I had never seen two men kissing before. It was strangely erotic and turned me on.

They finally came up for air. Steven looked for a moment as if he was going to push Derek away. He glanced over at me, saw that my eyes seemed to be closed, and then returned his gaze to Derek. He leaned forward and kissed him again. Then his eyes closed, and he succumbed to the heat of the moment. After a while, Derek’s left hand went to his other shoulder, then slowly down Steven’s back and circled it around to caress his chest. Steven made no move to dissuade him from exploring his torso, and I heard him moan softly.

I should have stopped this earlier but now I was too excited to do anything but observe. My pussy was wet. I wanted to reach down and touch but I did not dare move. How far Derek would go? How far would my boyfriend take it? That jumped out in my mind: he was my boyfriend.

Through my slitted eyes, I watched as Derek’s left hand dropped to Steven’s legs while continued to kiss him like he was his date. His left hand slowly began to stroke his inner thighs. Steven made no move to stop him.

He continued to stroke upwards along Steven’s thighs until he had almost reached his goal. Steven’s pants were tight and I could see his arousal.

But Steven moved his hand down to stop Derek’s hand from reaching his crotch. He pushed it away, panting, “We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m with Marie…”

Instead of a reply, Derek again Bolu Escort Bayan brought his lips to Steven’s, and soon they were again kissing passionately. He closed his eyes and thrust his tongue into Steven’s mouth like a snake.

Then Derek did something that took real balls with me “sleeping” just six feet across the living room. With one of his hands, he slowly undid his own jeans’ top button, slid the zipper down, and let his huge, semi-hard dick pop out. It looked every bit as big as before, maybe bigger.

Steven was so absorbed in kissing him that he didn’t notice what Derek had done. Derek then returned to stroking Steven’s inner thighs again, slowly again approaching Steven’s bulging junction. When Steven reached down to stop Derek’s hand from advancing further, Derek grasped Steven’s hand and guided it to his manhood.

When Steven made contact with Derek’s member he jerked his hand away, broke the kiss, and stared down at the lengthy appendage in surprise. Just like I had that first time I’d seen it, Steven froze, mesmerized by the magnificent sight.

I was staring at it too, but I was more curious to know what was going on inside Steven. I knew how a woman would feel in the presence of such a cock–that’s only natural. Was he feeling the same sort of feminine-to-masculine response–or did this male-to-male response feel different?

Suddenly Steven’s realization of what was available to him seemed to break down his reluctance. I could see by the lustful look in his face that he was truly entranced by this semi-hard, ultra-masculine cock.

I felt a stab of jealousy. That was the face Steven sometimes had when he looked lustfully between my legs.

“It’s amazing,” he crooned, “I’ve never seen one that big,”

“Touch it and see how much bigger you could make it,” Derek encouraged.

Steven’s hand started to reach for it, but he pulled it back. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he replied as he continued to stare at Derek’s organ. “You should really put it away.” There was no conviction in his voice.

“You make me so hot, Steven. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you tonight,” he cajoled him.

Steven’s eyes were still glued to Derek’s prick, and his hand tensed in the air like it was paralyzed between pulling back and going forward. He breathed out heavily, and then in again. His face seemed to be turning red as he struggled internally. “We … really … should … stop … now…” he panted.

I’d never seen this side of Steven before. He was being turned on by another man and acting like a woman in heat when confronted with a hot cock.

Derek reached down and stroked his own cock making the head swell. “We don’t have to do anything…” he teased.

“I don’t know…” Steven motioned toward me on the couch. “What about her?”

“She’s out like a light. I don’t think she’ll wake up if you keep quiet,” he said, trying to be convincing. “Just hold it and see how big it gets.”

“We really shouldn’t…” he stammered as if in a trance.

But I could see his willpower was weakening the more he gazed at the impressive penis. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of it.

I wondered what was keeping him from doing what he so obviously wanted to do. Loyalty to me? Fear of getting caught? Confusion over his sudden sexual attraction to a man?

For a long time Steven continued to stared, trying to convince himself that he wanted to do what Derek asked–and at the same time hoping that I wouldn’t wake and catch him.

In that moment I caught a glint of light at the tip of Derek’s penis. I looked closer and saw that a drop of pre-cum had emerged, no doubt from Derek’s being turned on by having a handsome man staring at his cock with lust.

Steven saw the glinting drop too, and his resolve dissolved. He leaned against Derek’s chest and his hand slowly reached out for Derek’s monster.

He caressed the flared head causing a jerk from his cock. He tentatively slid his hand slowly down his shaft, grasping it just below the huge head. His hand almost looked small on Derek’s huge dick, his fingers barely circling it. He slowly pulled the foreskin up and covered the head. He gasped and began to slowly stroke it. “How big does it get?” he whispered.

“Just keep doing that and find out,” Derek replied, leaning back into the couch and giving himself over to pleasures from my boyfriend’s stroking hand.

I didn’t think that the cock could get much bigger or harder, but as Steven started to manipulate his organ, it did grow. Derek leaned even further back into the couch and he spread his legs wider to accommodate Steven’s stroking.

“God, I love your hands on me, making me hard.”

Just holding that cock in his hand had put Steven into a mono-focused state of sexual arousal, and Derek’s words inflamed Steven’s desire. He was hot with excitement. He laid his head on Derek’s chest and began to jack him off more enthusiastically. He had a look of fascination and lust on his Escort Bolu handsome face as he stroked Derek’s huge cock, and his free hand was between his own legs, squeezing his bulge there. I wondered how much longer he would have his pants on.

Derek started to run his left hand through Steven’s hair over and over to let him know that he was providing the proper stimulation. Little did I know that he was also gently pushing his head downward, encouraging him to bring his face toward the huge penis. Steven’s head was resting on Derek’s chest, and then at the edge of his ribcage, and then it was resting on his stomach, bringing his face closer and closer.

I know how a woman feels when she’s in lust for a cock and wants it in her mouth, but Steven seemed to be reacting the same way. His eyes were glued to the approaching organ, and I saw his tongue sliding over his lips, moistening them in preparation. He was clearly excited about the prospect of wrapping his luscious lips around his dick. His head moved slowly, almost imperceptibly, toward the target as he stroked the cock.

His lips were only an inch away when another large drop of pre-cum appeared at the slit. He moaned and his tongue darted from between his pink, engorged lips to lick away the drop.

Derek took that as a signal that it was time to feed him. I don’t think he cared what Steven thought or did at this point. He had his need, and that was in control. He clasped the back of Steven’s head and gently but firmly forced Steven’s full lips onto the head of his penis. Steven’s wet lips lingered as he kissed the flared head. He moaned again and a shudder went through his entire body. Simply kissing the head of that gorgeous cock had caused him to have an erotic spasm. He looked over at where I lay, but with his mouth obscured by that cock I could not make out his expression.

But I was in an altered state: My boyfriend had his lips on a man’s cock, and I was not more than six feet away. I never thought that I’d be this excited to see my boyfriend in such a position. He was cheating on me–and yet I was turned on by the perverse eroticism of it.

Steven kissed his way down the shaft and, with gentle persuasion from Derek’s hand on the back of his head, found Derek’s balls. He lifted them and kissed them too. He started to work on his rigid member with his mouth more vigorously. I had to wonder: had he ever shown this level of enthusiasm when his mouth was busy between my legs? He continued to kiss and lick at its length, really getting into it.

He then kissed his way to the top of his shaft and licked around the flared head of Derek’s manhood, capturing the pre-cum that leaked from its slit. He squirmed and moaned lightly while he did this. Up and down his shaft he bathed his huge penis with his nimble tongue. He licked his way back up to the swelling head and swirled his tongue around the spongy gland, making him squirm again.

Derek was becoming needier and obviously wanted to put his hard dick in my boyfriend’s hot mouth.

Finally, Steven grasped his dick by the root and then took the rigid member into his mouth. Derek gasped and said “Fuck yes” as he felt the warm mouth enveloping his hot cock. Steven was sucking him. Derek closed his eyes, threw his head back and his hips jerked upwards involuntarily, thrusting his cock more fully into Steven’s mouth.

Steven eagerly accepted as much as he could, trying to take more and more with each thrust. Down he went, deeper and deeper, sucking him like an experienced cocksucker. Or a natural born one. He amazed me by taking more of him into his mouth than I knew I could. And I had experience in sucking cocks! About half of Derek’s full length had disappeared into his mouth. He then forced his mouth down to swallow another couple of more inches–causing his throat to bulge. I could see his over-filled mouth and bulging throat even from between my slitted eyes. And he didn’t even gag. Had he learned to do this somewhere? I wondered how much I actually knew about Steven’s past sexual experiences. Was he attracted to men’s cocks, or had this man brought something out in him?

While keeping the appendage in his mouth, Steven slipped off the sofa and on to his knees between Derek’s legs. He looked up at him with lusty eyes. He was ready to get serious. He went to work on his cock like a man with a mission. He had become an enthusiastic cocksucker. I couldn’t believe it. My boyfriend was blowing my best friend’s boyfriend right in front of me!

Derek encouraged him by running his hands through his hair and guiding his head up and down his spit-soaked length. He was really getting into my boyfriend sucking his big cock as I could see by the look of ecstasy on his face. Steven continued to stroke and suck his dick simultaneously with reckless abandon. He moaned softly as he bobbed his head up and down, over and over, sucking.

Derek laid back and closed his eyes. I had to fight myself to stay still and not to give into the overwhelming desire to reach between my legs and masturbate. I was sure my jeans were soaked through with the wetness from my pussy.

Steven’s staying power was amazing. He worked Derek’s dick for at least ten minutes, hardly coming up for air.

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Amateur

[Jason:]

It started by accident. Honest.

Close to midnight I was driving home from an out of town trip. I’d had too much coffee on the road and really needed a toilet. At the edge of town I pulled off the highway and into a bar’s parking lot. The place looked rough and badly lit but I didn’t pay much attention. I really needed to piss. I went through the front door and quickly scanned the place, noticing that it was full of men, some seated along the long bar with a mirror behind it, some on the big dance floor, some in darker booths along the far wall. I sort-of registered that there were only men in the bar, but I was mostly relieved to spot the “Restroom” sign in the back and made a beeline for it.

I entered the restroom already unzipping my pants, passing a big black guy leaning against the wall by the sinks for some reason, and went directly to a urinal. I pulled out my penis and began to piss. The relief was so intense it was almost sweet.

As my pressure eased, I noticed strange sounds coming from the stall right beside me–something like liquid slurpings and low groaning, followed by murmurs of encouragement and a long moan.

Was someone having sex in there? Even as the question formed in my mind I knew what I was hearing,

I was almost finished at the urinal, but as I realized what I was hearing the sensation of my bladder easing was replaced by the sensation of my cock swelling.

I paused. I could tuck my penis away, turn to a sink and wash my hands, and leave.

But I felt a reluctance to move and stood there immobile, my head cocked slightly toward the stall beside me, my ears straining for more sounds.

Suddenly the big guy who had been leaning against the wall was at the urinal next to mine. I glanced over as he was taking his own penis out. Some impulse of curiosity took over for a moment, and I quickly looked down at it. Just as quickly I looked away, but not before getting a sense of something substantial there.

The guy leaned toward me, his head and shoulders coming into my space, his voice quiet like we were sharing a secret as he said, “You know what you’re hearing?”

I did, but I shook my head No.

“That’s a guy getting his cock sucked.”

I knew it had to be something like that, but the crudeness of his words made my penis swell a little more. My mind made a connection, as I realized that this seemed to be a men-only bar, which meant that it probably wasn’t a woman doing the sucking.

The black guy eased away from the urinal and walked over to the stall, not bothering to tuck his cock back into his pants.

“Come over here and look.” He pulled open the stall door and looked inside. My curiosity got the better of me. I looked around the edge of stall’s partition to see a well-built man in a tight t-shirt standing there with his jeans around his ankles. Another man in a dress shirt was on his knees before him, his head bobbing up and down on the man’s cock. The sucking man’s wavy brown hair curled and shimmered over the crisp collar of his shirt, but his clean white shirt had acquired a dirty smudge along the back. I wondered what condition his dress pants would be in after kneeling on this not-too-clean bathroom floor.

I’d never seen a man actually getting his cock sucked by another man, though phantom images had occasionally floated through my mind.

The guy getting the blowjob looked up and smiled at me, his eyes filled with pleasure and mine with shock. The man sucking kept up his pace, unaware that we were watching until the guy put his hands on the sides of his head to stop him and said, “Look behind you, cocksucker. We have an audience.” The guy on his knees reluctantly let the hard cock slip away from his mouth, looked over his shoulder to see us watching and gave a moan.

I had the impression of a handsome face with saliva- and precum-smeared lips, before the face was again buried in the standing guy’s groin.

It was shocking and somehow embarrassing to see two men having sex–but I also couldn’t stop looking. Such a private act, I thought, but in this semi-public place.

The black man beside me said, “Which guy do you want to be?”

I didn’t reply, and I felt my face redden and my neck flush.

“Oh come on,” he said. “It turns you on. You can’t stop looking.”

“Yes, I can,” I said. “And I don’t want to be either.”

“Ha,” he laughed, “that’s a big fat lie. I can see the way your pants are tented out.”

I moved a hand over my crotch to hide the evidence.

“Let me guess–I’ll bet you’re a cocksucker too. I saw how you licked your lips just now. A sure sign. You want to be the guy kneeling between those legs.”

My face reddened more, and I closed my mouth, to prevent it from betraying me further.

He looked me up and down. “You’re not from this part of town, not with those clothes. But now that you’re here, you’d go right down on this bathroom floor and let a guy use your mouth, wouldn’t you?”

The thought was shocking to me.

“Do you want help out giving the blowjob? Get your face down in there Bodrum Escort too? A fine pair of cocksuckers you two would make, good-looking guys like you.”

“No,” I said hastily, but I felt like I was radiating heat and my clothes felt too tight for my body.

“Or are you greedy and want that cock just for you? Not that he’d share. He wants all that sperm for himself.”

It was hard to believe the words I was hearing, and even harder to believe how much I liked them. A dark liking. A urinal, a strange man hanging around, a stall with two men having sex, and being told words like cock, suck, and sperm.

“Or maybe you’d rather have a juicy black dick. Like mine.” He squeezed the shaft of his cock, which was hanging impressively outside his pants, watching my face to see my reaction. Again my eyes betrayed me and glanced down at the bulging, purplish-black head, so different from my pinkish-tan one. Even worse, I found myself staring at it, and had to stifle an impulse to lick my lips.

Where the hell were these feelings coming from?

“I thought so,” he chuckled. “A real cocksucker.”

“You’d be surprised,” he continued, placing his hand on my shoulder, “at some of the things that go on here. Most of the action is out there”–he jerked his thumb in the direction of the main bar–“guys meeting and taking each other home.” After a pause. “Or doing stuff out in the parking lot when they can’t wait.”

He looked down again at the guy on his knees. “But sometimes we get a hot one. Some guy who is so turned on and desperate that he needs to do it right here in the restroom.”

He gestured at the handsome man on his knees. “Like this guy. Every month or so he comes here. He likes to suck men off, a different man each time.”

Once a month, I thought, wondering irrationally, Does it coincide with the full moon?

The black man’s hand slipped around to my other shoulder, and he pulled me in closer to his head, again as if to share a secret. “But other guys who end up here in the restroom have different needs. Some like to lick asses. Imagine that. Some want to fuck a man in the ass–or get fucked themselves, up against the stall wall. Maybe that’s what you’d like too.” His face was very close to mine now, and for a moment I felt his cock brush against my pants as he leaned in even closer.

“And let me tell you about this one guy … we don’t see him too often. But, wow, when he’s here it’s a real party. Very nice body, and he likes to get completely naked and invite several guys to–“

That was too much for me, as indefinable feelings rushed through me, and I turned away from him, releasing my shoulder from his hand’s grasp, needing to get out of there. I jerked open the restroom door, and outside it a crowd of men was between me and the exit, but I ignored them and pushed my way though, awkwardly bending at the waist to hide my erection.

A minute later I was out in the parking lot, standing beside my car, key in my hand, trying to calm my breathing. I needed to get away from this place.

A minute later I was still standing there. Instead of getting into the car and driving away, I had half-turned back toward the bar entry and was looking at the light streaming out from around the door frame and listening to the pulse of the pounding music.

This is ridiculous, I told myself. That was just a weird moment in there. Let it go.

I looked around the parking lot, trying to see if anyone was lurking in hidden corners or the black alley between the bar and some sort of out-building with a single dim light illuminating its entry.

Besides, you could get mugged hanging around a place like this after midnight in the dark.

But I still stood there, looking towards the bar, needing to make a decision.

The white dress shirt came out a few minutes later, with his head down and his hand still wiping his mouth. His eyes briefly glanced my way but immediately turned away. Probably didn’t want to be seen coming out of a place like this. He got into a sleek car not far from mine and drove away.

I should do the same, I told myself. What if I’m seen at a place like this? Just get in the car and go.

I opened my car door but something prevented me from getting in. I looked back toward the entry to the bar.

I could go back in and just have a drink. Check it out a little. Places like this really exist. The reality of it was hitting me for the first time. They’re not just semi-mythical places you hear whispered about or make jokes about where the gays and the queers and the faggots hang out. One drink. What could it hurt?

But I knew the answer. Who are you kidding? You’re not thinking about a drink. You’re thinking about what happened in the restroom.

Decision: No. I’m not a … I’m not one of those guys who …

That’s not me, I told myself firmly, and slipped into my car.

The black man’s voice took me by surprise. “So you’re still here,” he said.

It was unnerving how a big man like him could appear close so suddenly. His one hand was on the car door, Bodrum Escort Bayan holding it open, his other hand was resting on the roof.

From my sitting position in the car seat, I could see only his crotch and waist and had to peer up to see his face looking down at me. I swung my feet out of the car to get a better position, but that only brought me closer to his legs with my face at level with his groin.

He gave a little laugh at that, but placed both hands on the top frame of the car, took a half step back and leaned over to talk to me.

“You know what I think?” he said.

I didn’t want to know what he thought, but he continued anyway. “I think you’ve never actually sucked a cock, but now you’re realizing that you really need to.”

I couldn’t say No.

“Yep, now you actually see a guy giving another guy a blowjob, you lay eyes on my big dick, and it’s too much for you–suddenly you know it can’t just be a secret fantasy anymore.”

How did he know what fantasies I’d had?

“And you know what else I think? You probably have a girlfriend, and you really do love her, right?”

I nodded Yes before I could stop myself. He didn’t need to know that.

“Does she know about your secret cocksucker fantasies?” and his eyes looked directly into mine as he asked. “How you want big dicks in your mouth? That you need to be on your knees before a man, while he slides his cock between your lips and over your tongue and into your throat?”

Against my will, my cock was growing hard in my pants again, and again I forced my open mouth to close. Why did those dirty words turn me on so fast?

“Never mind. We’ll talk about your girlfriend another time. Maybe she’s secretly into you being a cocksucker too.”

Another time? There was not going to be another time. This perversity was not really me. My mind rushed oddly ahead to wondering what I’d say when I got home and she asked how my trip went this time.

The man paused for a moment, considering what to say next, the faint moonlight making his dark skin seem to gleam.

“Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll be back here in one week. Next Friday night. Be here at midnight.”

Finally I could force some words out of my mouth: “What make you think I want to come back here again?”

“Of course you do. So we’ll meet in the bar, and you can ask me to let you suck my cock.”

What? But I didn’t actually say that out loud.

“By then I’ll be really full of sperm and need to release. Your mouth and my cock will have a hot date.”

His hand suddenly reached down and cupped my chin and jawline, his thumb moving firmly over my lips. “You have good lips for it. Nice and full. And I recover fast, so probably I’ll use your mouth twice that night.”

I wanted to pull my head back, but in my imagination his thick thumb moving over my lips became his thick black cock moving over my lips, and that image stilled me.

“You can be my cocksucker,” he said soothingly. “Or how do they say it sometimes in this part of the country, in Spanish? Mi chupa pija.”

I knew enough Spanish for that crude phrase to connect.

Finally I pulled away from him, and said “I won’t be here. I’m not going down that road.”

“Ha,” he said. “Tell yourself what you want and go on home and think about it. Talk it over with your girlfriend, if you dare.”

“Just leave her out of this,” I said quickly, “and forget about seeing me here again. That was a weird moment in there. I admit it–something happened to me in there. But I’m not a ….” I couldn’t say the word. “That’s not me, and that’s not what I want to be. I won’t let it happen.”

He just smiled and said, “We both know what happened in there. And I know that right now your cock is hard again. And you’ve been staring at my crotch this whole time.”

Shit.

“I know what you’ll decide.”

I did too. There was no way I’d be coming back.

“See you next Friday, cocksucker,” he said and turned and walked away.

[Darius, voice recorder, Friday the 17th:]

They all show up here eventually. Which is why I love my job. Both of them, actually. Is there anything better than being a bouncer at a gay bar? The things I see. The offers I get. My pick of the guys, and knowing any night I can get off however I want.

Sure, there are differences between the two gay bars. The nice one downtown. And the not-so-nice one here at the edge of town. Different clienteles, mostly. And sometimes I do security at private parties when some rich guy wants to walk on the wild side but needs a guy like me around in case the wildness has to be tamed.

Which I like to do. A guy my size can do pretty much anything he wants, anyway. Plus, I get offers all the time.

After midnight, I typically drift back to the bathroom in the rear of the bar. By then the guys are getting needy. After hours of talking and dancing and checking each other out, things start happening. There’s a bathroom in the front too, but the best action happens in the back. So I wait for something I like to come along, and Escort Bodrum then I go for it.

And what do I like? I’ve got my preferences, just like everyone. Maybe some are freakier, not just like everyone’s. Sometimes I wonder about some of the things that turn me on. Not sure what those desires say about me, but I like what I like.

Like that special moment … when a guy’s need becomes overwhelming and it breaks down whatever internal defenses he has. I love that instant. When I see the change in their eyes, or that shift in their shoulders. The moment that they give in to their need. When I know I have them. Makes my dick swell.

Of course, if the guy has a handsome face, that’s a bonus. In that moment I knowing I’ll be seeing my cock slide over a face like that, and that I’ll see him open his mouth wide to take it. Love that. And knowing I’ll spurt onto his chin and over his cheeks and eyes.

Like that guy who was in earlier. New guy. Fucking handsome, almost pretty. Probably gets all the girls. But he has other needs too, and maybe it wasn’t an accident he showed up here. He seemed shocked when he realized what kind of place he was in.

But he liked it right away. That says something. I saw his eyes when he was looking at those guys in the stall. I bet he didn’t even know he licked his lips. Made me want to push him into a stall right then and there.

Maybe I’m compensating for something. I know I’m not handsome. More rugged-looking, they say. Maybe that’s why I like the pretty boys.

Anyway, who gives a shit about the psycho-babble?

I’ve got something they like. No, something they need. They look at me, and something in them says Yes. And I know I can take what I want.

A lot of them have that tension inside: they want to–but they don’t want to too. That’s fun to play with.

They need someone like me who knows what he wants and goes for it. When I want a guy to kneel, I tell him. “Kneel,” I say–just like that. Do I want some part of my body licked? “Lick me here.” Do I want him to strip, right there in the bathroom, so I can check his body out? “Get naked. Now.” Do I want to see him bend over and spread his cheeks? “Show me your ass.”

They always do what I say. Whatever I want. They like the words, and I like saying them. That’s my secret. And I like it best when they’re a little shocked at what they’re hearing. Nobody’s ever direct in life. Especially about their hidden desires. Everybody dances around the subject and hopes somehow their signals will get picked up.

But words have power. So I just say exactly what I want, and they give themselves to me. And I have lots of words. And a big cock to back them up.

So that handsome guy tonight. Couldn’t make up his mind in the parking lot. Fun to tease him. And make him wait a week. He won’t be able to think about anything else until next Friday. Always best to let them dangle a bit. Before they come back. Which they always do. The tension makes them extra needy. And when they’re extra needy … I can really do my thing.

[Jason. Friday, before midnight]

I sat in my car, engine idling a block away from the bar. I could pick out the red neon lights of the bar’s sign. Bar Robb. Funny that last week I hadn’t even noticed the place’s name. Even at this distance I could sense the throbbing beat of music emanating from the place. I had the car’s air-conditioning on but still a line of sweat trickled down my back. Exactly five minutes before midnight.

Two nights after my accidental trip to the bar restroom, I’d broken down and let my imagination take over, jacking off to my memory of what I’d seen there. Just that one time.

I thought that would get it out of my system. Just a one-time strangeness that came upon me and needed to be released. But the thoughts and memories and questions kept coming back. The guy on his knees in the stall. The big black guy with the big …

He’d said I would come back. I almost hated how smug he’d been.

Technically, I hadn’t come back. The bar was still a block away.

Did I really want to do those things? Could I actually suck a …? Did I really need to know what one felt like in my mouth? Or was this just a passing weirdness?

Those questions had tormented me for days. I’d told my girlfriend I had a quick trip out of town. Unusual for a Friday night but sometimes it happened. Said I might be back very late or have to stay overnight. That was a lie. I’d have to face that, but I couldn’t tell her what I was feeling.

How many times this week had I imagined kneeling down and undoing a man’s pants? That man’s pants. Could I really do it? And more … did I actually I want him in my mouth? To make him spurt? Did I want to think of myself as …? To be called that name–or worse?

I don’t actually have to do anything when I go in, I told myself. Correction: If I go in. I could have a snack and a couple of drinks. Soak up the atmosphere. Maybe he wouldn’t be there, and I could just hang out awhile and leave.

* * *

The noise hit me when I pulled open the door, a combination of music and voices in robust competition. I spotted him immediately, at the end of the bar. He was as big as I remembered him, again in a tight black t-shirt and jeans, wearing an earpiece and talking into his device while keeping an eye on the action.

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Four Day Pass: The First Night

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Amateur

Thursday seemed to drag on forever. I was sitting in class, waiting for the last hour to tick away. Then after class, my platoon was going to go for a good long run. All this was between me and a long weekend in San Francisco with my friend Scott from back home.

The last hour finally came to a close and I headed to the barracks to change out of my uniform and into PT gear. The run was uneventful, but the sun was out, a rarity since I got stationed in Monterey. Finally, I was back at the barracks. I called Scott to let him know I’d meet him at the post gate so we could hit the road to San Francisco. He picked me up around six and we headed north to the City by the Bay.

I was born and raised in suburban New England. I had done some traveling, but for the most part, all I knew were bitter cold winters and hot, muggy summers. Fall was usually either: a) a reprieve from the heat of the summer before winter rolled in; or b) a bit of a chill before the real cold weather arrived. It was all I knew before arriving on the west coast, and, to be more specific, Monterey on California’s Central Coast.

Monterey is very similar to the town I grew up in. Both are coastal towns, relying heavily on the fishing industry and tourism, and both are fairly affluent communities. There are, however, a few differences. Of all the differences between the east and west coasts, one in particular stood out: rain. Back home, rain could be a summer squall, a torrential downpour, a light drizzle… Rain was many things in New England. But in Monterey, I was surprised by what they called rain.

After a few days of misty fog, I went down into town. I overheard some people talking about “all this rain we’ve been getting recently,” and I couldn’t help but shake my head. To be fair, the region was going through a bit of a drought, but Tokat Escort I would never mistake a heavy fog for being rain. Rain has actual drops of water that fall in a generally downward path, though I’ve been in rains during a severely strong wind where the raindrops traveled almost horizontally. This so-called “rain” I had experienced here in Monterey was merely mist that hung on the air and blew where the wind willed it.

That being said, it had been a beautiful sunny day when Scott picked me up. The sun was beginning the early stages of setting as we exchanged hugs just outside the post and then drove off to the northbound freeway. Somewhere along our trek on the 101 I started dropping hints that I was in a bit of a randy mood. Scott easily picked up on my barely hidden meanings and by the time the sun set, I knew I’d be getting some.

We found his hotel, parked in the garage, then checked into his room. Within minutes our clothes were heaped on the floor as we made out in his bed in our skivvies. He backed off, yanking my briefs down. I was hard as a diamond. He took little time to look at my offering before his mouth was descending onto my cock, sending me to heaven. He sucked on my erection for a few minutes, then turned me over on my stomach.

This is what I’d been waiting for. He spit and played his fingers on my puckered opening. I wanted more and told him so. I was desperate to get stuffed full of his cock.

“Shhh. Relax, soldier. Be patient,” he chided me.

I didn’t have to be patient long, as he obviously felt he’d prepped my ass enough for his invasion. The pounding he gave me was breathtaking. I was repeatedly stuffed full of his thick eight inches. The smacks on my ass accentuated his urgent thrusts. Before long, I was full of my first load in six months. I wasn’t Tokat Escort Bayan sated, but his pumping my ass full took the edge off my lust. We lay cuddled on the bed for about an hour before rinsing off in the shower and heading out for a bite to eat.

Needless to say, the City by the Bay held many glorious wonders for a young, sexually confused man. Scott, however, was the only playground I wanted any part of. After a shower, we had a languid dinner at a quaint yet crowded Italian restaurant within walking distance of the hotel. I don’t remember the name: I was too enthralled by my desire to suck this man’s cock and have him deposit innumerable loads of man juice into both my holes. What can I say? It was only my third time with him, with any man at all, and the military chicks I’d been fucking didn’t want to play with my ass. I was horny. We walked back to the room, me eager for desert.

I allowed him a few moments alone in the bathroom before joining him. He was washing his hands and I just couldn’t wait to suck his cock. When he turned, I dropped to my knees. His pants were unzipped and there, behind a thin layer of tighty-whities, I could see the bulge I desperately wanted in my mouth. I nearly drooled on his slacks as I pulled them down. Then, his underwear followed and thwack! his erection smacked my chin. I opened up and sucked his head, tongued his shaft, kissed his balls. I felt him place his hands at the back of my head…

And I was gone, lost to my forbidden passion. I sucked, licked, kissed his firmness. Taking a cue from earlier, I withdrew him from my mouth and swatted my face with his hardened manhood. His precum ooze flew through the air, some landing on my wonton face, some in my hair, some on my tongue. This lewd, shameless self-abuse only heightened my desire Escort Tokat for his creamy juices. I sucked his phallus down once more, nearly choking myself.

His own hands began forcing more of his rod into me, fucking my face with abandon. I no longer had control. I was literally in his hands just as much as his cock was in my neck. I felt his cock expand forcing my jaw wide as he emptied his balls down my throat while my dinner surged up from below. He withdrew, easing the pressure off my head and I pushed back on him. I lunged to the toilet, barely making it before spewing my guts half on the seat and half into the bowl.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself,” he apologized as he wet a washcloth and filled a glass with water. My retching continued a few minutes longer until my stomach was emptied. I lay against the porcelain panting heavily. He offered the glass which I took, only to rinse out my mouth. I swished again and spat, watching the remnants of dinner exit my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. His concern was plain and sincere. “I should remember you aren’t experienced.”

I could barely respond audibly, my throat sore from the fucking as much as the bile. “Now we both know.” I chuckled. Despite the pain and discomfort, I had enjoyed debasing myself to his cock.

He helped me clean up in the shower and I brushed my teeth. Again, despite gagging only a few minutes before, I found myself nursing on his cock trying to rouse him for another bout of anal. He was more than accommodating, becoming fully erect in minutes. This time, my ass was ready with little preparation and his thrusts were less intense. Also this time, he reached around grasping my cock regardless of my trying to push his hand away. I came first, this time, a slow, steady pulsation of pleasure coursing through my entire body. My asshole contracted on his cock bringing his third orgasm of the night.

I slept better that night than any of the previous three months, better than any night since his last visit. I snuggled into him, my head on his chest, and drifted into the land of dreams.

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Massage and More

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Blowjob

After a really tough week at work I was very stressed out, a coworker suggested I go and get a massage, having never had one I asked where to go and he said to go to a certain one, said they give great massages and other things, I said I would try them.

I called and a woman answered and I told her they were recommended for a massage, that I had a tough week at work and stressed. She asked did I have a preference of a male or female massage person, I said either would be fine. Made the appointment for 3 days later and was set.

The day of the appointment I went to the parlor, not a typical massage parlor I had heard so much of but a pretty nice place, checked in and they told me that Dale was my masseur. I said fine and they showed me to a nice room with aromatics and soft music, said I could get as undressed as I felt comfortable with, so I went with nude and just a towel on my rear.

When Dale arrived we chatted and he asked about my week and started the massage. Told me I was really tense, so was a little rough at first but then I relaxed and he was gentler. I was really enjoying the massage and was feeling very relaxed. When he did my upper back legs I could feel a little movement in my cock. This continued for a while and he told me to turn over, I was a little embarrassed because I was semi hard, but turned over and he just smiled.

The massage continued and this time he got a little closer to my groin area and I came to attention right away, he asked if I needed that taken care of, I said that I didn’t Beylikdüzü Escort want to pay anymore and he said were are not that kind of massage parlor, just offer good services if needed.

I said sure, he soon was stroking me and I could tell he was enjoying it as much as I was, so I took a chance and reached for his shorts, surprisingly he was commando and very much into it. He asked if I wanted mutual relief and I said sure, so he dropped his shorts, his cock was about my size so I massaged it, he then told me to turn on my stomach, I did and he started licking my ass, his tip was getting much bigger.

After doing that for a while I could feel wetness and next thing I knew he was rubbing his cock between my ass cheeks. I was really turned on, soon he just started putting his cock in my ass and it was easiest a cock had ever gone into my ass, he started a nice fluid motion but got more rapid and soon I could tell he was cumming.

After he finished he turned me over and sat on my cock, now I am generally a bottom but it felt good and he was facing me jacking his hard again cock. I didn’t last real long but as I was shooting my load in his ass he started cumming again and one of his spurts hit my lips. I was now very relaxed.

I often went back for more MASSAGES and have met James and Ivan also, they were very good and have relaxed and made my muscles feel much better. Found out they are very legitimate and the extra curriculars are on the side but very cautious so when I enjoyed Beylikdüzü Escort Bayan Dales massage I was always given someone who was Gay or Bi for massages. Don’t think they filmed it, but who knows, was before cell phone times.

Learned I was a lot more flexible than I thought and was had in many positions, standing, sideways, bent over table, doggie, even learned how to massage a little myself, which was nice because I was always relaxed when we had sex from the massages.

James had longest cock, Ivan was small but thick, he came in buckets though, at least it felt that way, he always like to fuck me and cum in my mouth, which was hot, I also got into rimming, as I felt if I enjoyed it as much as I did they probably would also, I was right.

I continued this for a while but eventually went back to regular days with an occasional massage, I also tried to keep in shape so I belonged to a local health club. It was nice, very clean and people were friendly both male and female. Never pictured it as a pickup place but soon found out that it was.

Occasionally I would get to see some nice lookers who showed off their stuff, but I kept to myself. On one occasion in the mens locker room I decided to go for a steam, enjoyed it after a workout. When I entered the locker room there was a guy sitting in front of steam room in just a towel which looked tented. I just continued got undressed, grabbed my towel and head over, when I got there he was just stroking his cock in the open, I Escort Beylikdüzü was a little shocked seeing how we were in a very public place, but he continued, I smiled and went into the steam.

Later the door opened and he walked in and surprise, surprise, sat right next to me, removed his towel and continued, I was going to move but was fascinated by his brazenness. He then said that he had seen me at the massage parlor and found out that I enjoyed the extra curricular activities they had, I just sort of sat there. He proceeded to take my hand and move it to his cock, which was leaking a little precum, rubbed it over the head and then licked off my hand. I was a little terrified about it being so open but I stroked him a little and he soon had me hard and was going down on me. Guess being afraid doesn’t stop you from being turned on because I was really enjoying it.

He stopped and asked if I would suck him, I was all in now and went down on him, he was sort of forceful and tried to ram it down my throat, so I stopped and told him to ease off, he said sorry and then I went back at it. Soon I could feel him getting ready so I stayed at it and he came in my mouth. I found him quite tasty. He then finished me off and told me when he was there at the gym and we should try other places, I was a little leery but found it exciting.

I hooked up with him on occasion in the showers and hot tub where he actually tried to fuck me, when it didn’t work he took me to his house and finished there, he was pretty good at that. Eventually I didn’t see him again, figured he got what he wanted and moved on. I never was as bold as him but have had other stroking adventures there. As shy as I was I think sex changed my demeanor.

This place also led to my one and only couple (M/F) adventure but that is another story.

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Centre Pocket

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Asian

The little prick has no fucking business being in here, and he knows it.

Jock has seen him about before, normally on the arm of somebody or other or even in some fucker’s lap, but at least then he was out of the way, in somebody’s shadow, leaning into them.

Now when he walks in he’s alone, goes up the bar, orders some fruity little drink that Vaughn puts a fucking pink cocktail umbrella in, like the little bastard needs encouraging. When he moves over to the pool table, it’s with his hips shifting from side to side, his jeans so fucking tight Jock almost can’t believe he can move at all.

The jeans are a steel-grey that clings to his calves, his thighs, the curve of his fat little arse, and he’s wearing a t-shirt that’s too fucking small for him, might even be a kid’s size, with the hem snipped off so bare a bit more of his midriff. It’s so tight you’d probably be able to see his fucking nipples, if not for the fact that he’s wearing a little sleeveless denim jacket over top of it.

It’s got a patch on the back that says, HEARTBREAKER.

It says GAY BOY in white across his arse cheeks. Jock can read it when he bends over to break.

“Can you fucking believe that kid?” asks Rob across from him, sipping at his beer. “What the fuck is he asking for?”

“Anything he can get,” mutters Jock, and shifts in his seat so that he’s got his back to the lad, but he’s aware of him through the course of the evening — he hears the way he says thank you when some of the other patrons buy him drinks, all effeminate, hears the way he lisps, “Hi, boys!” when Patton comes in with his boys and gets half-laughing, “Hey, Phin!” in reply.

When he goes to the bar later in the evening, he orders another one of his fucking pink G&Ts, sips at it, and he turns his head like he knows Jock’s been watching him, his lips parted, his eyelashes fluttering as he fucking bats them at him.

He doesn’t put any volume into the words, just mouths them, as he looks over at Jock: “Hi, big boy.”

Jock’s lip curls, and he doesn’t say anything, just stares the little bastard down until he, smiling, looks back to his drink and sips at it, shifting on his feet as though he’s trying to make his jeans fit differently.

He’s wiggling his fucking ass so that everyone will look, and a lot of people are.

A lot of people do.

Grinding his teeth, Jock waves to Vaughn that he wants another drink on his tab, and he doesn’t bother to stand and go, just turns to Otto and lets him fucking talk about hydraulics, about whatever the fuck is going on with the tools at his job.

It’s hours later when he finally loses patience.

It was last call forty minutes ago, and Vaughn’s shut the shutters and the door — the lock-in’ll go on until two or three, maybe. The kid hasn’t left. He’s hustling pool now, started hustling a few hours ago, and everyone in this place should know fucking better, should know better than to play with him, to fall for it.

It’s not even an act, is the thing — it’s just that he’s skinny and gangling, looks younger than he is with his big brown fucking eyes and his thick, swept-back hair, his thin, brown lips. He’s not pretending he’s not a fucking maths PhD, that he doesn’t do every single calculation in his head before he even puts his hand on the cue. He’s not even pretending he doesn’t do little fucking Tik-Toks Mersin Escort where he makes Rube Goldberg machines and performs fucking trick shots.

“You can’t fucking make that shot,” Al Rooney is saying. “Not without hitting the blue.”

“Aw, you don’t want to see me even try?”

Those big brown eyes are about as big as he can fucking make ’em right now.

“A hundred says you can’t do it.”

“Oh, you’re paying me not to try?”

“I want you to fucking try!”

“A whole hundred dollars?”

Al puts the bill on the green.

The kid makes the shot, and Jock doesn’t look to know that he’s made it, just takes a swig of his drink and listens to the sound of the cue hitting the ball, then the softer click of one ball against another as it drops into the pocket.

“Holy fuck,” says Al.

“Uh huh,” says the kid.

Jock gets up, and he heads over, looking over the baize and the balls on it — balls 11 through 15 are still on the table, scattered around, and Jock looks at Al and then at the lad, whose jeans are hung low on his hips, so low that Jock can see the top of his arse crack.

“I’ll make a bet,” he says.

“Hi, Jock,” lisps the twink, stroking his fingers obviously down the length of the cue and then back up again. He’s gripping it loosely, leaving space between his fingers and the wood, so that people can look over, presumably, and fucking imagine their cock there instead. “I thought you didn’t bet.”

“Twenty says you can’t pot the 11 and the 12 in one shot.”

“Twenty?” repeats the twink, tilting his head to the side, pouting out his lips.

Jock smiles at him. “Fifty, then.” He puts the bill on the side of the table, and the lad smiles at him, chalking up the cue, and looks over the table.

Jock isn’t saying he could pot the 11 and the 12 in one, but he can see that for someone like this little cunt, it’ll be pretty easy: the two of them are at a right angle from one another, the 12 poised right in front of one corner, the 11 in the middle of the baize with an easy shot of the left middle pocket.

He watches him make the calculation in his head, watches him take a step to the right, leaning down over the table.

The waistband on his jeans is elasticated, so when Jock sucks his finger into his mouth and slides it underneath them, hooking into the pink bud of his hole under the denim, it’s no struggle at all: the twink falters his grip on the cue, letting out a sharp, gasping noise: he fucks the 11 and sends it wide, and when he pots the 12, the cueball follows it into the pocket.

He’s been fucked already today, or maybe he was fingering himself this morning, or maybe he’s just such a delightful slut that he’s so open because of that — Jock slides his finger in further, tugging at the muscle of his rim. He can’t get the angle to go for the lad’s prostate right here, but he’s squirming a bit, his hips tipping forward, grinding against the air.

“Foul,” intones Jock, and pulls his hand back.

Al is laughing, and Jock looks down at the lad as he turns around, his cheeks darkening just slightly, the skin a little shiny with sweat, or maybe just his flush.

“You got any cash on you except for Al’s hundred?” asks Jock. “Do you have a fifty on you?”

“I could give you the hundred and take the fifty,” says the twink.

“I’ve got a Mersin Escort Bayan better idea,” says Jock, and demonstratively puts his hands on the lad’s waist, his thumbs hooking into the band of his jeans. He does it slowly, gives him more than enough time to respond, to stop him, but he doesn’t. The twink stays stock still as Jock slowly pushes his jeans down.

He’s not wearing underwear, fucking obviously.

“Phineas, isn’t it?” asks Jock as he pushes his jeans down to the lower part of his thighs — his cock, which is half-hard because the little fuck’s a pervert, bounces free.

“Yes, sir,” says the twink immediately, and that makes Jock’s lips twitch even as he gets his hand on the back of his neck and pushes him down over the pool table.

“Not on the baize!” snaps Vaughn from behind the bar, and Jock hauls him up again by his pretty brown curls, tugging the jacket off his body and putting it back down again, making sure that his cock will only drip on the denim, not the pool tabletop.

He slides his hands over the globes of Phineas’ arse, squeezing his fingers into the meat, and Phineas whimpers, buries his face against his arse.

“I like the shy act,” Jock says, more to Al than to the lad. “He really puts it on, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” says Al, spellbound, and Jock fists his hand over his cock a few times, working it to proper hardness. He doesn’t put the condom on right away, fishes it out of his pocket with his spare hand as he lets his prick drop between Phineas’ cheeks, resting on top of his lower back.

Phineas shudders, his thighs spreading apart.

“He’s been wanting this for a while,” says Jock, tearing the condom open with his teeth, and he slides forward, against his hole, his cock sandwiched between his cheeks. He nudges, doesn’t push in but just slides over his hole, and Phineas whimpers. “Ask for it.”

“What?” the lad asks when Jock stops moving.

“Ask for it,” says Jock. “You want it, don’t you? Fucking ask.”

“Pl — Please. Can I have it?”

“I don’t know,” says Jock. “Can you?”

“May I, may I, may I, old man, come on, are you gonna fuck me or not?”

It’s funny, how the shy act is thrown into the ether, replaced with the demanding little brat they all know he fucking is, whining for what he wants.

Well.

Who is to Jock to deny him?

He slides the condom down his cock, wraps his hand around the base of his prick to steady himself, and then sinks forward. The condom’s lubricated, and he wants him to fucking feel it, wants him to feel the stretch —

Phineas whines into his arms as Jock slowly sinks himself in, gripping him by the hip and keeping him in place. He’s infernally hot inside, so tight that Jock’s mouth feels dry at the fucking sensation of it, the tight clasp on every side — the little slag probably would have let him go bare, too, and he thinks about that for a second, thinks about what this might be like without the condom, too.

He shoves himself forward the last two inches, grunting at the sudden clutch of Phineas’ tight ring around the base of his cock: the twink lets out a wail, grabbing helplessly at the table as Jock pulls back and starts to thrust. He focuses on depth more than speed, sinks himself in as deeply as he can in long, measured strokes, and when he grabs the lad by the hair and pulls Escort Mersin his head back he can see his eyes are tearing up at the intensity of it, his body shuddering, jerking.

“This what you fucking wanted, yeah? This what you’ve been angling for all day?”

Phineas lets out a wordless whimper, obviously not quite with it enough to string words together while Jock’s cock is splitting him open like this, more than he hoped for, more than he expected to get.

Jock speeds up a bit, keeps on with the long strokes, and Phineas’ noises get louder — the others in the bar look over, and Jock considers the value of offering him out, of them all doing a bit of pass and play. He’d probably enjoy that, wouldn’t he?

“Pass us number 11 there, Al,” says Jock, and Al barely looks away from Phineas’ teary-eyed face as he grabs hold of the ball and slides it over the green. Jock catches it, snatching it up, and he feels its weight in his hand, the cool surface of the resin under his palm.

He rests it on the hollow at the lad’s lower back, comparing the width of the ball to the width of his own cock — he’s a little narrower, but only a little, which is a nice little boost for the ego.

“How many of these do you reckon I could pocket, Phineas?” he asks quietly, and presses the ball down to make his point. The sound the lad makes when the ball parts his cheeks and comes down to meet where Jock’s cock is buried in his arse makes him suddenly jump. “You think you could take all fifteen?”

He pulls out, and he tugs his thumb against Phineas’ open hole — he obviously shaves his arse to keep it this fucking bare, and it’s gloriously pink on the inside, a beautiful contrast with the warm brown colour of his arse cheeks, his thighs, his lower back.

He tucks the 12-ball against his arsehole, watches the way he clenches, the way his fucking boycunt swallows greedily, like it’s hungry for it.

“Would you like that, lad?” asks Jock in the lowest rumble he can, pushing the ball forward without inserting it, just making sure he can feel his hole widen. “You want to feel them all hot and snug inside you like a clutch of fucking eggs, listen to them click as we all take turns fucking you?”

Phineas whimpers.

“That’s worth a bit more than a fifty, isn’t it?” asks Jock, not without humour, and rolls the ball across the baize at the same time he sinks his cock back into the boy: Phineas wails, going limp on the table at the same time he spreads his legs wide, and Jock doesn’t hold back this time, shoves him down with one hand between his shoulders and fucks into him as hard as he feels like, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room and mingling with Phineas’ sharp, desperate whimpers, his body writhing under Jock’s.

When Jock comes, it’s buried deep in the lad’s boycunt, and he wishes again that he hadn’t worn the condom, that he’d just spent in him so that now, as he slowly pulls out, he could watch it drip out of him, over his pretty little shaven balls, down his thighs.

But then —

Safety first.

“You next, Al,” says Jock, and tosses him another condom out of his front pocket. “Keep him busy until I can get it up again.”

Phineas shudders, but when Jock looks down at him, he’s grinning through the wet streaks over his cheeks.

“Had my eye on you a while,” he mumbles.

“You have, haven’t you?” asks Jock. “Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make good on my threats, send you home with a bellyful.”

Phineas moans as Al slides in behind him, immediately setting up a rapid, jerking pace like a rabbit, and Jock smirks down at him as he waves to Vaughn for another beer.

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