Many thanks to Wilde Sort for letting us post this very horny 100% bi anal story. Please click on his name to send feedback and tell him where you read it!
I love women's arses; I love them small and pert, I love them wide and fleshy. I love to watch them in movement; I love to feel them in my hands. I am a bugger; I enjoy putting my penis up women's bottoms. There are many reasons why I love fucking women up the arse. I get off on the fact that the women I've buggered have often needed a lot of persuading, and have often agreed only grudgingly, so it feels like a kind of rape. I love the dirtiness of it - nice women aren't supposed to want to admit to you that they like having a cock up their back passage. I love the fact that it hurts them but that they like it. And I guess to some extent it feels like a liberation of some deep perversion. Using a woman's arse for sexual pleasure can't but make me think about my arse, other men's arses, holes that everybody has, holes anyone can get fucked in.
I'm as uptight as any straight man about the idea of being anally penetrated by a man, but I also know how good it feels to have something up there. I think any man who likes fucking women up the arse also knows that he's tapping into something primal about his own masculinity - somehow you're turning yourself into a huge dick that can fuck anything, that can exert mastery over anyone, anything, with an arsehole.
My gay friend Tom thinks that straight men fuck women's arses to disavow their secret desire to be fucked themselves; that we all secretly know that our arseholes are potential sites of pleasure, and that we yearn to be submissive. He should know: if his exploits are to be believed he seems to have fucked legions of married men. He may be right, but if so, I'm happy with my disavowal.
My last girlfriend wouldn't let me fuck her arse, although she liked me to lick it, and sometimes shove my finger up there. My current girlfriend is the biggest arse slut I've ever met and I'm loving every minute. We've been seeing each other about eight months. She'd had a few boyfriends before but hadn't been particularly sexually adventurous with any of them. When I showed her how much pleasure she could get from having her arse stimulated it just about blew her mind, but it took us a while to get there.
On the first occasion, I'd been eating out her cunt when I stuck my tongue in her arsehole. She tried to pull away - I guess she felt dirty, invaded. She said it tickled. But she was very aroused - her cunt was sopping, so I carried on massaging her clit as I tongued her tight little pucker. Gradually she relaxed herself onto my tongue. I remember her little sighs of surprised pleasure as I licked and gently probed her arse. She wasn't far from coming when I really pulled her buttocks apart, revealing the inner pinkness, and stuck my tongue as far up her back passage as I could.
The walls of her anus felt silky on my tongue and she just about broke my nose writhing her hips as she orgasmed, yelping with a kind of urgency that I hadn't heard from her before. I remember that afterward she was rather stunned, but something deep in her sexual pysche had obviously shifted - she'd experienced a darker, more abandoned kind of sexual pleasure and I was incredibly aroused by her reaction.
That night she was very needy and cuddly - she wanted to be loved, and needed reassuring that I still thought she was a nice girl - that my reaction to her was still loving and warm and not crude or animalistic. But I was encouraged by how sensual she clearly felt - we might have been snuggling up, but she wouldn't leave my cock alone under the duvet, and she wanted to be caressed and kissed. All I could think about was how much I wanted to hear the sounds she would make with my dick up her arse.
We had sex the next night, and I made sure that after I'd rimmed her to a point of bewildered but almost overwhelming arousal, I fucked her in the 'conventional' way, all the while telling her how beautiful she was and how much I loved her. As we lay together afterwards, sweatily blissed out, she tentatively asked me if I'd ever 'done that' with any previous girlfriends. When I told her that yes I had rimmed several women, all of whom had loved it, she asked me if I'd ever put my cock 'up there'.
Her demeanour was almost unbearably arousing. She was clearly very curious - she wanted to know what was possible, and she wanted to know that it was okay to think of her arse as a sexual organ - that other women, other normal women with mortgages and cats and Ikea flat packs did what she had done, and maybe what she wanted to do. I remembered feeling the same way after I'd first stuck my finger up my bum as I was cumming. We are taught that our arses are shameful, disgusting. But she was measuring her curiosity - she was self conscious, and had reverted to a kind of cutsey baby talk, not making eye contact but touching my neck and chest demurely. To some degree I was used to her bashfulness about sex - she'd always been a bit insecure about the fact that I was much more sexually experienced than her, but this was new territory. She was nervous about my reaction, about what I'd think of her; she was trying to measure her feelings against her existing image of herself, and all the while she was remembering what it felt like to have her arse licked, and was fantasising about what it would feel like to be buggered.
I was in a high state of arousal myself - her demureness, her willingness to think about what we might do - was making me feel strong and protective towards her. I felt manly and potent. I pulled her close to my chest, feeling her excited breath on the hairs there, and asked her if she'd like it if I played with her arse some more. She nodded into my chest, squirming her soft body against me. I could feel her breasts pressing into my side. She was hot, radiating expectancy. I don't think my cock had ever felt harder.
'Do you want me to make love to you that way?' She knew what I meant. This time her assent was more tentative, but her breath was getting shorter.
'Won't it hurt?' her voice was small as she looked up at me under her eyelashes, but she met my gaze squarely and her eyes were glinting. I told her that it might hurt at first but that I'd look after her and stop if she wanted me to.
'How will your penis fit me there?' It had always been a source of pride to me that she understood my cock to be large; a testament more to her inexperience than to my endowment. In fact it's not unusually long, but it is rather thick, with somewhat oversized glans that stretch my foreskin.
I told her to trust me, and that if she was relaxed all she'd feel was pleasure. She still seemed a little hesitant. I knew the struggle that she was having: there's pleasure in shame, but breaking taboos requires a degree of emotional security. I suggested that we could go back to me licking and tonguing her, and need never go any further if she didn't want to. She didn't answer, but kissed me passionately, pushing her tongue into my mouth and then sucking greedily on mine when I reciprocated.
We had been making love for a while, enjoying our usual routine, when I turned her onto her front and parted her buttocks. I had always found her to be an indifferent cocksucker, but she had a great technique of massaging the underside of my glans, and she'd brought me almost to the point of orgasm. My cock oozes an enormous quantity of pre-cum and I'd trained her to gently use it to ease back my foreskin and gently rub my frenum. My cock was standing up against my hairy, slightly flabby tummy, as I watched her tiny, puckered anus winking at me. It was spasming in response to her self-conscious expectation. I put my mouth between her buttocks and blew softly. I felt her quiver ahead of me. I wasn't in the mood to tease her for long, and so pushed my tongue firmly into her arsehole.
Her sphincter resisted momentarily, pulsing against me, before opening surprisingly easily. I put my hand under her and started gently stimulating her wet clitoris. She groaned into the pillow and moved her legs further apart, allowing me further access to her silky pink interior. I pushed my tongue further inside, sensing a slight bitterness. I rubbed my cock against the sheets as I withdrew my tongue and started lapping at her parted anus, pushing saliva inside. I felt her tense up as I pushed a finger against her pucker, and so increased the pressure on her clitoris with my other hand. I just held the finger against her arsehole, maintaining a firm pressure, but not forcing it inside. I felt her gasp and felt her body spasm before I became aware that her anus was open. She moaned softly as I pushed my finger deeply inside her, and then more urgently as I withdrew it and pushed in another alongside. She started sighing softly as I gently finger fucked her. Her arse felt open and hot.
My breath was ragged as I withdrew my hand from her sodden cunt and spat in my hand. I don't think I could remember a time when I was more aroused. My face felt aflame and my cock was jumping as I smeared it with my spit and moved forward on my knees between her spread legs. The room felt almost unbearably hot. Time had stopped and it wasn't going to start again until I'd fucked her up the arse, until I'd cum up there, deep inside her. I felt compelled, driven. Looking back I doubt that anything or anyone could have stopped me.
She started to move as I pulled my fingers from her anus. As I lay myself down on her back she lifted her head off the pillow and turned her head back to look at me. If she'd changed her mind it was way too late. There was hesitancy and some fear in her features as my mouth sought hers and I brought my hips forward, pushing my slippery cock between her buttocks. She started to form a question, pulling back from our kiss as the head of my dick found her anus. I leaned to the left and pushed my hand under her loins. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my ears as my hand found her cunt and I pushed the head of my cock into her arse. Her sphincter had closed and I felt it spasming against my exposed glans. I felt like I was on a knife edge. I felt so close to cumming and yet knew I wouldn't, knew I could hold off indefinitely.
I felt strongly identified with her. I could sense her fear and tension, but also her strong sense of excitement. She was enjoying her feeling of powerlessness, of degradation, and I could identify with that. I even wanted to feel it myself. My own feeling of power arose from my complete empathy with the extreme pleasure she was getting from her submission to me. Our bodies were still whilst our breath heaved in our chests, hers pressed into the bed, mine, hairy and wet, pressed into her back. Her body felt on fire.
Slowly, so slowly, I felt her arsehole contracting, twitching open. I felt her body relaxing slightly under me and firmly pushed my cockhead into her. She gasped loudly; it was a shocked, sharp noise that filled the room. She dropped her head onto the pillow, remaining braced on her elbows. Her soft brown hair fell away from her neck and I put my mouth on her bare skin. She started at the touch and groaned softly as I bit her, gently at first and then more firmly. I felt her arsehole relax and pushed the full length of my penis inside. We both inhaled as it slid inside, taken aback by the shared intensity of the friction, bare skin sheathed in bare skin. She sank fully into the bed and I braced myself on my hands, watching as she moved her head from side to side between her slender, slightly hairy arms that encircled the pillow. Her eyes were closed. I had a desperate curiosity about the sensations she was experiencing, that she was trying to make sense of.
She became still and quiet as I started slowly fucking her; her body seemed gripped by a tense curiosity as she assessed the sensations washing over her. My dick felt tightly sheathed. I continued to fuck her, but had started to become aware that maybe she wasn't enjoying it when she moved to push herself up on all fours. I got off her back to allow her to move and knelt behind her. My hand was still mindlessly fiddling with her cunt as I concentrated on fucking her butt, but now she roughly pushed it away. Her supporting hand gripped the sheet fiercely as she started masturbating. I watched her, transfixed, as I continued to push my penis in and out of her arsehole. It looked thick and slickly wet. It felt enormous.
Finally the intensity of her pleasure broke over her like a wave and she groaned deeply and threw back her head, pushing her ample bottom back towards me. 'Oh God. Fuck. Me.' Her voice was deep and thick. She wriggled her buttocks against my crotch and then pushed herself hard up against me. I felt my cock penetrate a further inch further inside her rectum.
'Fuck me. Fuck my arsehole.' I'd never heard her utter such obscenities. She started rocking back against me, picking up the rhythm of my fucking and intensifying her pleasure. 'Oh Jesus. Jesus. Your dick... is... big. Fuck me.' I gripped her hips firmly and started fucking her much harder. I marvelled at how powerfully I slammed my dick up her arse; I couldn't believe I wasn't hurting her. The room was full of the sound of my ragged breath, the slapping of her ample buttocks against my hairy thighs, and her extraordinarily filthy outbursts.
Her movements were so active she paused to change hands, leaning to the other side, and pushing her left hand into her crotch. I paused to accommodate her movement, but she bucked back against me impatiently, and tossed her head, 'Please. Don't stop. Fuck me. FUCK. ME.' She was masturbating more urgently now and I felt her rectum clenching my dick in hard spasms.
She groaned deeply and then started crying out, incoherent pleadings that became more fevered and insistent as she approached orgasm. I couldn't keep up with her movements and so held her hips steady as she fucked herself back onto my thick penis. She became quieter, more concentrated as her orgasm hit, grunting between thrusts that slowed as she enjoyed the sensations inside her rectum and her cunt.
Gradually she stopped moving, and then started in surprise as I started fucking her again. Now that she'd come I fucked her purely for my pleasure, pounding her in quick short rabbit fucks, keeping most of my penis inside and drawing back an inch then jabbing back inside. She was bracing herself on both hands, and her groans were tinged with discomfort now that the intensity of her orgasm had passed.
'Did you like that, baby?' I grunted between thrusts. She nodded, her shoulders tense. I felt a flash of angry frustration. I wanted to hear her telling me what an amazing fuck I was. I needed a reaction. I wanted to hear her struggling to accommodate my dick, crying out in pain as my manhood assaulted her, overwhelmed her. I lay on her back as I felt the orgasm growing in my loins, and grabbed her full, swaying tits. I was grunting into her back like an animal as I started cumming and made four or five vicious long thrusts into her arsehole. She cried out from the force of my penetration. It felt like my body had exploded.
I continued to make little movements to and fro inside her as the waves of pleasure subsided and I came back into the room. The sweat was cold and sticky between us as I came up off her back. I didn't want to take my penis out of her, but I could feel her legs on either side of mine shaking from the exertion, so I slowly pulled out. My cock was still achingly hard and wet with our juices. As my head cleared her anus it pulled with it a string of cum that stretched and then slickly snapped.
I looked at her distended, red arsehole, which contracted and then spasmed out a big gob of cum. Without any thought I leaned forward, and then I was licking her slack anus, pushing my tongue inside greedily. I'd tasted my own cum before, in a moment of boredom and curiosity; I hadn't particularly enjoyed it. I remember feeling a little sheepish when I'd thought of all the women whose heads I'd held firm whilst lustily spunking into their mouths. Now I couldn't get enough, and as my girlfriend collapsed onto the bed, her legs still lewdly spread, I followed her, sucking and licking at her arse, greedily overcome by compulsion and lust.
I loved the fact that I'd fucked this cum inside her; I loved the fact that her arse lips were now red and distended where they'd previously been tightly puckered and virginally pink. I felt the heat rising in my body again, felt my penis stiffening, which hadn't fully softened since I'd pulled it, vivid and throbbing, from her rectum. Quickly I moved over her body and lay on her back. I think she'd drifted off into a post-orgasmic daze, dully enjoying the sensations she was getting from my felching of her arsehole. When she felt me pressing my penis into her buttocks she started to turn in alarm. 'What are you doing?' The end of her sentence was bitten off in a grunt of surprise that turned into a longer cry of pleasure as I sank my cock back into her arsehole in one long, firm, thrust.
I could taste my own cum and her butthole in my mouth as I grabbed her hips and started long, steady thrusts in and out of her sloppy, hot rectum. She moved up, bracing herself on her elbows, and dropped her forehead back onto the pillow. 'Oh god. Oh god' Her last syllable became an urgent, almost confused moan of pleasure. Again I had a sense of her bewilderment. She was trying to reconcile her intense pleasure with previous understandings she had of buggery, of taking it up the arse. 'You. Bastard.' She moaned into the pillow, pushing her arse back up onto my thick invading cock.
'Oh yeah?' I pushed in rather hard.
She lifted her head off the pillow, 'You cunt.'
My breath came faster. 'You love it, you fucking slut. Tell me you how much you love it.'
I should have felt like some pathetic caricature of a porn star, but actually I felt powerful, and unbelievably aroused. My face was on fire, my voice thick with desire and the thrill of dominating her with my cock, turning her into an object of my lust. I lay down on her back, hooking my arms under her armpits and grabbing her shoulders. My mouth was in the hair near her ear. I could still taste our sex on my lips, on my tongue. The smell of her arse and my sperm filled my nostrils.
'You love it, bitch.' I slammed into her arse. She was keeping up a steady stream of deep groans now, punctuated by little surprised gasps when I snapped by dick up her especially hard. My whole being was attuned to the fucking. I was obsessed with the image of her bruised arse lips turning in and out, stretched around my cock. I felt her wanton, abandoned excitement. There was a slackness in her limbs that told of her release into subjugation and pleasure and it heightened my enjoyment. I was buggering her and she was loving it. I was fucking her arse, the scent and taste of which was almost overwhelming me; her rectum was sloppy with my sperm, sperm that I could taste on my tongue. I could feel the juiciness inside her. Our fucking filled the room with lewd sounds: the slapping of buttocks and hairy thighs, my ragged breath, and her moans and cries, and underneath those the most intimate of all: an oozy, wet sucking as sticky skin parted sticky skin. She farted as I withdrew my cock; I don't think she even noticed, so deeply was she abandoned to her submissive pleasure.
'You randy bastard!' My friend Tom and I were sat in his living room sipping our third beer. 'Did you manage to cum again?'
'Like a steam train. I reckon it was one of the most powerful orgasms I've ever had. I thought I was going to fuck her to death.' Tom and I had got together for one of our matey nights - a case of Budvar and a European qualifying match.
'A little bit too much info, thanks! What was her reaction when you were finished? Did she give you hell?' His tone was sympathetic to the effect of my excesses.
'God no! I think she was a bit stunned - more by her own response than mine. But no, she just wanted to be cuddled. We ended up having a lovely soak in the bath together.'
'Fucking hell!' Tom exclaimed. 'Sounds like you've unleashed a real submissive streak in her. Lucky you!' We laughed together. We had many times discussed Tom's difficulties in getting his sexual partners to acknowledge that what they wanted was a good fucking.
'Bloody gay boys can be so fucking uptight about taking it up the arse. That's really what they want, but we have to play all these bloody silly games of pretending that we're all essentially versatile.'
'Have you really never let one of your boyfriends fuck you?' I knew that Tom was what I think is referred to as a top.
'Oh god yes! From time to time it's the only way I can get them to give it up.' He took a slug of beer. 'And I guess sometimes I do get the urge to sling my legs over some lucky sod's shoulders and ask for a good rogering. Sometimes it's the only thing that hits the spot.' He laughed.
'Really? I thought you were strictly Mr. Butch between the sheets, you old tart!'
'Oh darling! Don't pigeonhole me!' He slipped into uncharacteristic campery, and then carried on in his normal deep voice, 'Most of the time it's not what I need, but there's no getting away from the fact that having a cock up your arse rubbing your prostate and stimulating the nerve endings in your arse whilst you come is one of life's greatest pleasures.' His voice took on a more parodic tone as he finished his manifesto.
'Jesus, you're so fucking evangelical about the great queer cause!' He laughed with me. 'Is it really that good or is that just gay propaganda?'
'Oh come on Tim! You've only just finished telling me how bloody grateful Emma was when you buggered her stupid! And women don't even have a prostate, which, believe me, makes all the difference.'
'Yeah, I know all about the fucking prostate, thanks.' I was getting a bit irritated. 'I'm not that uptight!'
'Hey! Steady on!' Tom's placation was cut short by the buzzer for the front door. He got up and picked up the entry phone, said something unintelligible and buzzed in whoever it was. 'Jude's here.' He said as he sat down and picked up his beer.
I groaned under my breath. Jude was Tom's current boyfriend. I found him difficult to relate to. Tom had been my closest friend since we'd been roommates at university. I liked to think that I wasn't in the last bit homophobic, but Jude wasn't my kind of man. Not that he was too queeny - I enjoyed the company of some of Tom's screamingly camp friends. Jude seemed to find it impossible to have a conversation with me without flirting outrageously, which I didn't strictly mind, but he always took it too far, to a point where it felt uncomfortable for me. I think that this was his intention, and that's why I found it difficult to get on with him. I had vowed to myself that I would make an effort for Tom's sake, but had been trying to keep my contact with Jude to a minimum. Tom did seem rather besotted with him. I was reminded why when the man himself burst through the front door.
'Hello darling!' Tom had got up to greet him, and was rewarded with a deep kiss, which Jude broke when he saw me sat on the couch. 'Tim! God you're looking gorgeous! Come and say hello properly and stop being so butch and reserved!'
Reluctantly I got to my feet and was immediately embraced in Jude's tightly muscled arms that bulged through his immaculate suit. I was enveloped in his cologne. It smelled woody and spicy and very expensive. He wasn't tall, but worked out rather compulsively, and so had developed a tight, muscular physique. His hair was always boyishly tousled, and his face was just the pretty side of handsome: cheeky and charming rather than plastic and hawkish. He grinned at me and then kissed me on the lips. I was struck by the contrast between his smooth, moisturised skin, and the hint of beard growth that surrounded his mouth. I pulled away and sat down. Jude immediately bounced over to where Tom was sat and settled in his lap, throwing his arm round his boyfriend's neck. Tom looked like a hungry cat about to swallow the canary. Jude worked on the stock market - he was a broker for one of the big banks, I could never remember which one. He'd just been celebrating a promotion with friends from work and was clearly rather drunker than we were. Whatever pleasurable expectations I had for the rest of the evening started ebbing away as Jude started filling Tom in on his news. Tom caught my eye over Jude's shoulder and mugged an apology. I smiled and shrugged. Tom knew that I was now there under sufferance. However, Jude's exuberance clearly wasn't wasted on Tom, who had finished his beer. I was just about to make my escape to the kitchen to get us some more, when Jude jumped up.
'Look at me being so rude. Tim, I'm so sorry to have crashed into your boy's night in. I've been selfish and boring, going on about work things. Let me get you another drink, and when you've told me all about you and Emma I'll bugger off into the other room and leave you boys to it.' His manner was so open and abashed that my tension was instantly soothed by the warmth of his charm. I blushed and dropped my gaze.
'Excellent. I'll get you boys a drink and then when I come back you can tell me what you've been talking about.' He called over his shoulder as he left the room. Tom's kitchen was a galley adjoining the living room, the length of which was a long breakfast bar that formed one side of the room we were sat in. We could see Jude reappear on the other side of the counter, moving about collecting bottles.
'Oh I've just been trying to get Tim to understand the pleasures of being fucked up the bum!' Tom called out, grinning at me like a lewd schoolboy. I felt my face flush hot with embarrassment as Jude came back into the room.
'Well, what the hell would you know about that?!' Jude scolded as he sat next to me on the couch. He turned to me conspiratorially, 'Honestly Tim, any time I try and get anywhere near his arse he turns into a Jane Austen heroine and gets all frigid and boring!'
Tom attempted to splutter out a retort, but Jude had an audience. 'Mind you, not that it's that often that I get the urge to poke around in his nether regions - who am I kidding? I'm a bitch on the streets AND in the sheets!' He giggled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. He pushed a lock of his floppy hair back off his forehead, 'Mind you, I understand that being on the bottom's very good for the wrinkles - I guess you've got gravity working for you!' We all laughed. It was difficult not to be overwhelmed by his good mood.
Jude was the perfect host for the next hour or so as he regaled us with hair-raising tales of near financial disaster and the weird habits of his boss, whose desk was always organised in a complex series of geometrical symmetries. He was good company, jovial and thoughtful. I was starting to revise my opinion of him, especially as he hadn't attempted to sexually embarrass me.
Eventually I couldn't ignore my protesting bladder any more, and made my excuses as I staggered, rather more drunkenly than I'd expected, towards the hallway. Tom's bathroom was a shrine to the god of gay consumption. Emma's collection of potions and bottles was insignificant by comparison. I stood over the toilet bowl and fished out my cock. I was starting to get a piss hard on and admired myself in the huge mirror facing me. I watched as a fat, noisy stream of piss started to fall into the water. The relief was blissful. As the stream dried up, I skinned my heavily wrinkled foreskin a few times to shake off the last drops. Hooding and unhooding my glans felt good and I watched the movement in the mirror.
My thoughts returned to Emma. I marvelled once again at her immense pleasure at being buggered. My dick was stiffening in my hand and I was suddenly taken with the urge to cum. I glanced at the pile of magazines by the toilet, seeking some masturbatory stimulation. Looking down I did a mental forehead slap. Girlie magazines in a gay man's bathroom? I leaned down and leafed through the glossies invitingly piled next to the toilet. There were the usual lifestyle and shopping mags, interspersed with publications on yoga and alternative therapy. Lower down the pile gaudy flesh tones caught my eye.
I pulled out a magazine adorned with a lewd representation of a skin head being fucked by a hairy man wearing a leather harness. It's title was 'Anal Plunge'. I felt an unexpected flash of curiosity and excitement. I sat down on the toilet and leafed through the pages. One image caught my attention. In it two men were looking toward the camera, one in front of the other. The man in front was leaning forward, supporting himself against a door jam on the left. The man behind was gripping the other's shoulder. From the expression on his face it looked like he was giving the guy in front a good fucking. I started skinning my cock more purposefully. His face was serious, his mouth drawn back in a grimace of exertion. But it was the face of the man getting fucked that really caught my attention. His head was completely shaved, and his torso and arms were heavily muscled. His expression was one of pure ecstasy. His mouth was slack, his eyes were partially closed and glazed. His forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat. Between his spread thighs his shiny circumcised cock pointed upwards, sticking into his belly. I couldn't image a man enjoying being fucked so much that he'd still maintain a hard-on.
I suddenly regained awareness of where I was and what I was doing. And what I was looking at. I stood up, and stuffed my stiff dick back into my pants as a wave of revulsion passed over me. My curiosity about anal sex was getting ridiculous. I tucked 'Anal Plunge' back into the pile and vigorously washed my hands, rubbing their rough wetness over my face. I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the dimly lit hall. I immediately heard a soft giggle. I felt the hairs on the back of my head stand up. Now there was a soft murmuring. I recognised the intimate tone of the voices. I walked down the corridor; ahead, the living room door was open, to the left the kitchen door was slightly ajar, and a harsh band of light was emerging through the crack. I couldn't see them in the living room, so pushed the kitchen door open.
Jude was leaning against the breakfast bar, facing into the living room. He was bracing himself on his folded elbows. His face was turned away from the door. His trousers and underwear were puddled round his ankles, his shirt pushed up his back. His tie was still in place at his neck. Tom stood behind him. His buttocks, clenched as they pumped back and forth, looked incredibly hairy. His eyes were closed, and his head was thrown back. He was softly grunting as he urgently pumped. A bottle of olive oil stood on the breakfast bar next to Jude, its top lewdly tossed to one side. They were clearly in a hurry. Jude sighed from the back of his throat and shifted his hips. Tom's penis suddenly appeared and slapped against Jude's bum. I was shocked by the sight of it. It was enormous. Crude jokes about baby's arms flashed through my mind. We'd shared a room for a year, in which I'd never seen his cock. We'd got changed together many times at the gymn or at the rugby club, but I couldn't recall ever having seen his cock before, and certainly not in its current, engorged state. It looked frightening, the kind of thing you see in seventies porn flicks. I'd never seen another man's erect penis for real before. I felt a stab of jealousy, maybe curiosity, possibly apprehension.
'Shit' Tom whispered, fumbling between their bodies to get his cock back in. He was so intent he didn't see me; I was in shadow just outside the doorway. Jude shifted, impatient with his boyfriend's ineptitude. He stuck one of his hands under his crotch to guide the huge penis back inside him.
'Higher,' Jude whispered. Tom's dick looked oily. It started to disappear. 'Oh god.' Jude's moan was deep and throaty. 'Yeah. Fuck me baby, I'm nearly there.' Tom was pounding like an air hammer.
I stood back from the doorway. My face felt hot. My heart was racing. What was I doing watching my best friend having sex? What were they doing having sex in the kitchen whilst I was there? I wished that I'd stayed in the bathroom, that I'd jacked off. My dick felt like a rod in my pants. I could feel it jumping, and I was aware of the dampness in my underwear as it leaked pre-cum. I shouldn't be watching them. They shouldn't be doing it. This was gay sex, live and uncensored. It was insulting to my heterosexuality. And yet I was struck by the manliness of what I'd seen. This was gay men stripped down, literally; no camping around, no fancy skin creams and designer accessories, just raw, naked fucking. I didn't want to question why, but I was, I realised, highly aroused by what I'd seen. My hand was mindlessly rubbing the bulge in my pants. I opened the button and drew down the zip. I pulled out my cock and started skinning it back and forth again. I stepped back into the doorway and pushed the door open.
The door creaked, and Tom and Jude looked towards me. Jude's face broke into a grin. Tom didn't break his stroke, but grunted, between thrusts, 'Shit, Tim, I'm so sorry. We thought we'd be through by the time you were done in the toilet.'
'He takes forever... when... he's tanked.' Jude was barely intelligible, snatching out breathless syllables between gasps. His face was obscenely slack, his eyes rolling back in his head. He was clearly completely tripped out. I wasn't surprised with that massive penis up him.
'Be. Done. In. A. Minute.' Tom's thrusts were savage.
I stood transfixed to the spot. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't stop jacking my aching cock. I didn't know what the hell I was doing.
Jude beckoned me towards him. 'Don't play... lonely, Tim,' he grunted.
Jude started turning away from the counter towards me. I saw his cock, stuck up against his hairless belly. Tom had to stop his thrusting to accommodate his boyfriend's movement. Jude beckoned again. I stepped forward. Then again. Jude leaned into my crotch and took my penis into his mouth. He washed his tongue round the head, and then took it out and looked at it. 'Nice cock, Tim.' He smiled at me, and then grimaced as Tom resumed his thrusting. Jude put my cock back in his mouth and then swallowed it. I felt it enter the ring at the back of his throat and groaned loudly. My cock hadn't been sucked like this for a long time. I started fucking Jude's mouth, abandoning myself to the sensation of it. I could feel his anxious breath in my crotch, the occasional roughness of his movements as he got brutally buffeted from behind. Jude's hands were firmly embedded in my waist as he tried to maintain some stability. From the look on Tom's face he wasn't far from orgasm. I was rather stunned by the vigour of his fucking. I couldn't imagine how Jude could take it.
I felt Jude opening the top of my trousers, easing them down over my buttocks and towards my knees. He withdrew my cock from his mouth and turned me round. I seemed to have lost all self will. I was meek in his hands. He bent me forward slightly. When I realised what his intention was I reached behind me and parted my buttocks. As I felt his breath in my crack a shiver went up my spine. The soft wetness of his tongue felt obscene and delicious. As he pushed into my hole I shivered again, and then relaxed onto the warm sensations. Nobody had rimmed me before. I'd begged my last girlfriend to return me the favour for all the times I'd spent tonguing her arse, but she'd been revolted by the idea. I now realised how selfish she'd been. I felt like I was melting; warm sensations were spreading out from my anus. At the same time I couldn't stop myself wriggling to try and get Jude's tongue deeper up my gut.
Behind me Tom appeared to be having a loud and violent orgasm. It occurred to me that he must have got a great view of my hairy crack. I should have been embarrassed: this was my best friend. Tonight we'd seen each other naked; I'd seen him fucking the brains out of his boyfriend. And here I was joining them; here I was pushing my open arsehole into the mouth of my best friend's boyfriend. I was straight, for god's sake. This should feel unnatural. My masculinity should be threatened. I knew that I didn't fancy either of them. But Tom and I had been close for over fifteen years; we'd shared most of the significant moments of each other's lives. I might not fancy men, but I knew that of their type, Tom and Jude were hot. Tom was tall and broad and hairy - he'd never lost the physique he developed playing rugby throughout school and university. He'd lost most of his hair though, but sensibly had shaved the rest. He always seemed to have several days of beard growth.
I wasn't a bigot. Tom told me he was gay soon after we were first assigned to the same room in freshers' week. I had found him inspirational. He was a man's man - a rugger player, for god's sake. I'd never known him apologise for his sexuality, and I'd seen him embarrass and face down anyone who attempted to make him feel ashamed. He was smart and sensitive. He knew how to handle himself. And I also knew he enjoyed painting his toe nails, and languishing in bubble baths with candles and champagne. I respected him, I probably loved him - god knows I had a lot more cause to love him than most members of my family - he was more like a brother to me than my own flesh and blood.
I knew then, and know now, that I'm a straight man - I desire women. I define my sexuality in how I negotiate the lust I have for women, my curiosity about them, and my need to exert sexual authority over them. However, I also had to acknowledge how curious I was about anal sex. If I'm honest it's my favourite kind of sexual play with women. My own arse has been a primary source of sexual pleasure to me since I first stuck my fingers up there. I felt warm and secure with Tom: this was a safe environment for me to explore. I was still apprehensive, though. I didn't know how far I wanted to go. I didn't want to do anything that would threaten my relationship with Tom. I didn't know what they might expect of me.
I felt Jude pull away from my arse. I straightened up and turned around. Tom was withdrawing his cock and stepping back from Jude. It was clear that Jude hadn't come. His penis was still stuck up against his belly. I couldn't help staring at Tom's dick. It looked red and angry, slick with juices and oil. It was no longer sticking up, but it was till obscenely long and thick.
'Let's go and get more comfortable, Tim. I haven't finished licking your lovely bottom yet.' Jude's face was still flushed, but his eyes had cleared somewhat. He'd moved towards the door and was holding out his hand. He was smiling at me with such warmth that I smiled back. But I felt hesitant, and looked over to Tom, who was trying to wipe the stickiness from his crotch and thighs with a tea towel. He looked up and caught my eye.
'Don't feel uncomfortable, Tim. We know who we are. You're my best friend. Let's just enjoy this evening for what it is - and next week I promise that we will get to actually watch the match!' Tom flicked the towel at me and laughed.
I grinned. 'Fuck you matey. I want Jude's tongue back up my arse!'
I trotted down the hall after Jude towards Tom's bedroom, and jumped on the bed. By the time Tom had followed us, I was on my back with my cock down Jude's throat. My friend closed the door and sat in the leather armchair in the corner. I marvelled at Jude's technique: he'd brought me back to full hardness almost immediately, sucking hard on my penis and opening the back of his throat until I could feel his lips in my bush. Tom was laid back in the chair with his legs widely spread. The monster hung down between his legs, lewdly pushed forward by his ball sack. He had his eyes half closed. When Jude sensed that he'd got me back into a zone of high excitement I felt him come up off my dick. I lifted my buttocks off the bed, pushing hard with my feet into the mattress. I rested my thighs on his shoulders. My breath was ragged as I waited for his tongue to penetrate me.
This time I was much more relaxed and I felt the squirming wetness of him further inside me. I groaned and spread my legs further. I heard the leather chair creak and saw Tom moving out of the corner of my eye. I felt him push some pillows under my buttocks. 'Why not get more comfortable, boys?' His voice had a smile in it. I relaxed myself down onto the pillows, and closed my eyes. My cock felt very hard and very hot, but I didn't want to touch it. I didn't want to confuse the sensations I was getting from my arse; I didn't want them swamped by the familiar intensity of having a wank. I felt slack, loose, slutty. I think that for a moment I understood what a woman feels like when she opens herself up for a man. The wanton need to be filled with someone else's desire. I brought my hands up to my nipples and started flicking them with the edge of my thumbs. They instantly turned into hard points of gooey electricity that connected with my arsehole. I could feel myself becoming a liquid pool of excitement. My breath was coming in long groans.
I felt Jude pull away from my arse and opened my eyes. Tom was stood next to the bed slathering lubricant from a large bottle with a pump dispenser onto Jude's cock. Jude was perched on his knees between my widely spread legs. My arsehole was tilted up towards him. Jude was looking directly into my eyes. His gaze was hard and purposeful. We both knew what I wanted.
Tom removed his hand and I felt Jude position himself further into my body. He pulled my legs up onto his shoulders. I let my head fall back onto the bed and closed my eyes. My fingers were rolling my nipples. The room felt very still and warm.
Jude's cock felt odd at my opening; a curious, rather perplexing, sensation of softness and firmness. My arse lips were open and he lodged his penis between them, up against my sphincter. I felt him press forward and felt his glans enter me. I heard myself gasp with surprise. It was a curious feeling to be penetrated and not have any awareness of the mechanical responses of my body. This felt so much more natural than fingering myself. I felt Jude move his body weight forward, felt his hands press into the bed by my waist. There was an exquisitely obscene feeling of friction in my rectum as he slid his penis fully inside me. I had an urge to shit, which felt wonderful, and cried out against it, rolling my head on the pillow.
'There you go.' Jude sighed as he fitted his crotch up against me. His voice sounded generous, and had a tone of accomplishment. I felt my anus contracting on the shaft of his penis. He kept still inside me. His breath above me was strong but steady. I could feel him watching for my reactions. I felt my arsehole fully relax and felt his penis shift; it slid further inside and we both groaned from the contact. The sensations inside my rectum were intensifying and it felt intolerable, uncontrollable. I felt stuffed. I wanted to piss, shit, come. I felt an urgent need to move. I ground myself back up against Jude's cock and cried out as I felt his stiffness moving inside me, grating against my prostate. I felt warm and slack, and wonderfully expectant. Jude started fucking me and my arse let out a series of farts. I felt dirty, obscene. I was being fucked up the arse and loving it. My body was responding uncontrollably; I was groaning loudly, revelling in the feelings of subjugation rolling over me.
I felt the bed sag and was aware of Tom coming up behind me. He lifted my shoulders and put his legs on either side of my body. Jude and Tom lifted me so that I was resting on Tom's chest between his legs. I felt hot and sweaty against his cool, firm hairiness. Jude lifted my legs higher onto his shoulders and fucked me faster. Tom folded his arms across my chest and held me tightly to him. 'How ya doing, soldier?'
'Oh god Tom. I love it.' I was gasping continuously now. My face felt slack and I was aware that I was muttering incoherent pleadings, obscenities. Tom kissed the top of my head and started playing with my nipples. I felt enveloped by their maleness, warm and child-like. I became aware that Jude was about to cum; his thrusts were more urgent, his breath was coming in sharper bursts. The pleasure washing over me had kind of plateaued; I felt almost overwhelmed by what was happening up my arse, but orgasm eluded me. It was disorientating to find myself in the grip of such intensely pleasurable, but unfamiliar, feelings. I didn't know how to focus my sensations towards orgasm. I felt myself awash with a cold sweat of frustration.
Jude violently fucked his cock up my arse and held his body rigid as he came inside me. He was grunting like a pig; his eyes were tightly closed and his floppy hair was stuck to his forehead in ratty tendrils. I smiled up at him as he relaxed. Tom reached across my torso and caressed his boyfriend's arm.
'Are you okay Tim?' Jude looked exhausted, but concerned. I smiled up at him and squeezed his softening cock in my bum.
'I feel wonderful. I don't want you to take your cock out of me, but I don't think I'm much good at being fucked. I don't know how to cum with a cock up me.' Tom squeezed me tight as the two men laughed. A look passed between them as Jude shifted his body and his dick slipped out of me.
Jude grinned, 'Oh, I think we have the technology!'
Tom pulled me back up towards him. I could feel Jude's cum oozing out of my hole as I sat upright. I could feel Tom's cock pressing into my back as he reached down my rounded belly and grasped my stiff dick. I groaned as he gently skinned it a few times, but I felt rather disappointed. It felt like a let down to have him jack me off, good as his big hand felt wrapped around my thick meat.
I felt Tom's breath in my ear, 'Have you had enough fucking for one night, mate?' My chest contracted in excitement and fear. I knew what he was suggesting. I put my hand on his thigh, registering surprise at its unfamiliar hardness and coarse hairiness.
'You must be joking.'
'You don't want me to be joking, Tim. You haven't gone this far not to want to see what I'll feel like inside you. I'll take care of you. I know what you've wanted.'
I felt him pressing me forward. I drew my legs up and sat up on my calves. I felt the sheets chafing my oozing arsehole. Tom let go of my cock as I moved forward onto my knees and supported myself on my hands. I arched my back and presented my bottom to him and waited.
Tom's glans felt rude and blunt in my crack. He rubbed his dick up and down a few times, coating himself in the fluids. There was a strong smell of cum and lubricant and my arse in the room. It felt coarse and dirty and very exciting. My hole contracted violently around his penis as he started to insert himself. I was shocked by how wide he felt; how much wider he was than Jude. I felt a sharp, quick stab of shame that I had been fucked in the arse by two men. He pushed a bit harder and I felt a searing, awful pain slice up through my insides. I cried out in pain and felt him immediately withdraw. I brought my knees up to my chest and lay my head on the bed. Tom was stroking my back and making soothing noises behind me, but I could feel his determination. I felt rather shocked by the pain inside me, but at the same time very excited by his will to have me. Jude sat on the bed next to me and pulled me up to him. He smoothed away my tears with his thumb and then bent down to my shrivelled cock.
His mouth felt warm and comforting, and I immediately forgot the pain as my penis stiffened in his mouth. I felt a surge of lust and pushed myself roughly into his throat. He lay on his tummy with his head between my thighs and I bent down towards his pert buttocks, pushing my arse back towards Tom. This time the head went straight in. My cock throbbed in Jude's mouth and I felt the same exquisite friction as before, as Tom's shaft slid into my rectum. It felt enormous, but I felt loose and very aroused.
'Oh shit. Fuck.' I pushed back against him, feeling another inch or so push into me. 'Jesus. Jesus.' Jude was having a hard time staying on my dick, so he slid out from under me and stood next to the bed watching us. His cock was hard again and he started slowly masturbating.
'Jesus Tom, how big is your dick?'
'You haven't got it all yet, mate.' His voice was thick with excitement. I reached behind my balls to my arsehole. I could feel it tightly puckered around his penis, which felt hot and hard. I could put my hand around the shaft that stuck out from my body. I felt a deep momentum building around the sensations in my arse. I wriggled on his cock. I felt gorged, slutty. My face was wet with sweat. I felt hot. My heart was thumping in my chest. Behind me I felt Tom's great excitement, and realised that this was taboo for him too: here he was with his dick inside his best friend. Again I felt overwhelmed with sensations; I wanted to shit and the obscenity of it was thrilling. I rotated my bottom on his penis and groaned loudly at the sensations the friction inside me caused. Tom pulled back an inch or so and I farted wetly. He pushed back in and I felt another long sliding sensation in my rectum. I dropped my head onto the bed and spread my legs further, pushing my bum back towards him.
'Please Tom.'
He started moving behind me, sliding his penis slowly out and then slowly in. He was letting me feel almost the full length of his huge cock shafting me. I rocked against his slow rhythm for a while, with my head turned to one side, enjoying the peacefulness of being taken so completely. My cock was rock hard, rubbing against the sheets. They felt damp under me. I turned to look at Jude. He was masturbating vigorously.
'Fuck him, Tom. Fuck his arsehole.' He was looking at me. Looking at me enjoying his boyfriend's donkey dick up my bum. I felt dirty and horny and desirable under his gaze. I moved up on to my hands and started bracing myself firmly against Tom's thrusts. He responded by humping me harder. I grunted as his cock penetrated me very deeply. Tom was groaning loudly now as his thighs slapped against my buttocks and the full length of his penis was fucked in and out of my rectum.
'God you love that dick up you, don't you? It feels so big, doesn't it?' Jude and I were staring hard at each other. I grabbed my cock.
'Do. You. Like. It?' Tom grunted between thrusts.
'Tell him you love it. He likes to hear us enjoy him.' Jude and I had made a connection. His empathy with my passivity, with my subjugation to his boyfriend, increased my pleasure.
'Fuck me harder.' I moaned at Jude. Tom pounded me violently, then pulled his dick out completely. I gasped in surprise and shock as the intensity of sensation suddenly stopped.
I groaned gratefully as he pushed the full length of it back into me. 'Oh god. Yes. Please. Fuck me.'
'I can never get enough of it. I love it inside me.' Jude was in a reverie, his hand a blur on his dick.
'Please. Please. Fuck. Me'
'Fuck yes, fuck him. Take it. How does it feel, Tom?'
I broke eye contact with Jude as I felt a rush of pleasure overwhelm me. I was panting like a dog, grunting and begging meaninglessly. I ground my cock into my hand, savagely humping back onto Tom's penis. I felt a pause, a sense of weightlessness, and then the orgasm hit me. I felt warm spunk pumping into my hand, and my arsehole spasming violently around Tom's thick shaft. His hands dug into my hips painfully and he slammed himself into me. He was making dirty, grunting sounds into my back. Tom sat back on his haunches and pulled me up and back onto his lap and I wriggled down onto his stiffness, feeling it moving inside me as I ground the last few moments out of my orgasm. Jude knelt on the side of the bed and I turned to face him as the first warm jet of his sperm hit my face and instantly cooled there.
'Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Fuuuuuck.' Tom was jamming me down onto his penis and holding me tightly back against his chest. His cock felt bigger than ever, but I felt warm and slack. As his orgasm ebbed I made gentle pushing movements on his shaft, like I was taking a shit, and was rewarded with the sound of his little exhausted gasps into my back. Jude climbed back on the bed in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. I curled my arms around his and rested my hands on his slim, hard biceps. We smiled at each other, exhausted. Tom and I moved against each other and I felt his penis moving inside me; it was less hard. I was suffused with feelings of warm intimacy. It felt very satisfying to have Tom's penis inside me; I felt nurtured and cared for. I could feel moistness in my crack against his crotch, and imagined the two loads of cum in my rectum.
'I don't want to disturb you, Tim, but I need to piss desperately.' Tom started to shift behind me.
Tim held me fast and looked past me to Tom. 'Don't you think Tim would enjoy a lovely soothing piss enema?'
Tom's wide firm hands moved down to my belly and stroked me gently. 'Do you think he could take it? There's a lot.'
'He took your cock, didn't' he.' I loved the way they were speaking past me, exchanging me between them like a possession, a token. I felt owned and cared for. I was deeply excited by the idea of Tom pissing up my arse.
'Tim, don't grip my cock too hard.' His hands on my belly were light; I tried to keep my anus relaxed: not difficult when you've been fucked stupid by a penis as large as Tom's. Gradually I felt pressure building in my rectum as the piss stream started, and then as Tom let go, there was a wonderful feeling of fullness. Tom exhaled, enjoying his exquisite release. I looked down at my tummy and saw it expanding at is filled with Tom's beer piss. Tom's hands cherished me, caressing my hairy stomach.
'There you go.' Tom sighed as the stream inside me stopped.
I was stunned by the warmth and fullness inside me. My cock started to stiffen at the sensation and I groaned deep in my throat, rolling my head back against Tom. Jude moved his hands down to my nipples and rolled them firmly in his fingers. I gasped at his touch and a wave of ecstasy broke through me. I looked down at my erect cock in amazement as another load of cum oozed out of my piss slit. My cock was jumping, untouched, but the orgasm was unlike any I'd previously experienced. Instead of jetting out, the cum was slickly pulsing on my cock head. The sensations were all inside me. My arsehole was contracting rhythmically on Tom's cock. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold his piss inside me for long, but I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay in Tom's arms. I wanted to keep his penis inside me while I made sense of what I was feeling. I didn't want it to end. I felt like something amazing had happened to me. I thought of Emma, and how she'd recently experienced a similar awakening as I'd fucked her arse. I felt a rush of warmth towards her. I wanted to share my experience with her.
=======================
The favourite sexual position of most of my girlfriends has been missionary. I can understand that. One ex once told me that she enjoyed the sense of closeness and mutuality that she felt when we were face to face; that we could kiss each other and look into each others' eyes.
I don't really think that's it. Most women, in my experience, have difficulty facing up to their true desires and pleasures; talking about their sexuality in terms of intimacy and emotional closeness feels safe. It seems to me that missionary can be intimate and sensual, but let's get real - it's a wonderful position for women to experience submission in, as it's the most passive. To me the intimacy stuff is about justifying and legitimising the pleasure of submission - about taking away any sense of humiliation or exploitation.
I feel like I have a better understanding of sexual submissiveness since I let my gay best friend fuck me. There's something dangerous and wanton about making yourself truly passive. I can understand why women might want to construct an emotional way of handling that - after all, they have to eat a lot more shit in the world than men. If that's your life experience then to stand any chance of enjoying subjugation in a sexual context you're going to need to find a way of understanding it as something other than subjugation - like intimacy. What made getting fucked okay for me was that I'm pretty secure in my masculinity. A lifetime of rugby playing and womanising - what better macho credentials can a man have?
But I understand where my ex was coming from when she said that she enjoyed the closeness and mutuality of missionary. Getting fucked up the arse was a big deal for me - I'm straight, for god's sake - but I love my friend Tom like a brother. Getting sexually intimate with him felt like a natural extension of getting into a scrum together - his macho aura, the sheer masculinity and power of his physical presence felt like a reflection and reinforcement of myself. And who am I kidding? The fact that I love having my arsehole played with helped a lot too! I've been fingering myself for a long time, I even tried a girlfriend's vibrator once - hated it - felt hard and unnatural. I love fucking women up the arse; for me it's the ultimate sense of intimacy I can experience, and I'm now getting my head round the fact that this is because I can relate to what my sexual partner is experiencing, as well as appreciate the extraordinary sense of sexual power that it gives me.
For what it's worth, if I'm going the conventional route, my favourite position is to have her riding my thick cock. I enjoy a sense of separation. I'm an incredible voyeur - I've always been aroused by porn - and when I'm on my back with a gorgeous woman using me, I can lie there and watch her, and watch my cock going in and out of her, and the pleasure of watching intensifies the pleasure of the intercourse. What man doesn't enjoy seeing his cock moving in and out of the cunt of a woman he desires? What greater sense of validation can he ever get of his masculinity, of his potency? I guess my answer would be, to see my cock moving in and out of her arsehole. Fuck, that gets me off! I love it when women enjoy getting buggered. I love the fact that they know they're not supposed to like it - that it degrades them as women - and yet they still can't help themselves.
After my night with Tom and his boyfriend Jude I thought that I'd done serious damage to myself. At first I was euphoric - if I'm honest, I'd always been curious about what it would feel like to be fucked. My first experience was pretty extreme, not only in terms of accommodating Tom's huge cock up my hole, but in terms of what it did to my head. It's a disconcerting thing for a virile, macho straight man to experience his most intense sexual pleasure with another man. Tom and I haven't really spoken since. I'm not proud of that - he's my best friend. But I don't really think we can deal with each other right now. It feels awkward. In the cab on the way home my sense of euphoria had already stated to ebb away. Sitting on the car seat was painful - my rectum felt damaged, really ruined, and that was scary. I had visions of shitting blood, of having to go to casualty and try and explain what I'd been doing.
It was then that I really felt the shame of what I'd done for the first time. I don't have a problem admitting to myself that I like having my arse played with. I have a major problem with the idea of other people knowing about it. I'm a big man. I'm over six and a half feet tall, and broad shouldered. In the last few years my belly has slackened and filled out, but I'm still in shape. I have a professional, well paid job. I'm used to being treated with respect, of moving through the world anticipating it making way for me. I'm not used to people sniggering behind my back. One of the reasons I respect men like Jude, Tom's boyfriend, is that they manage to maintain a sense of dignity, of personal power, despite the fact that most people around them perceive them to be gay. Jude's not effeminate, but he certainly isn't macho. He's good looking in a boyish sort of way, and he has an open, personable manner. Many of his gestures and expressions are rather exaggerated - he can be very camp. I don't want to have to deal with the kind of shit men like Jude have to deal with, same as I couldn't cope with the kind of constant low level humiliation women have to process daily. I'm not about to allow my personal tastes to undermine my social status.
Emma's tits have a wonderful sense of fleshy mass about them. She's fairly well endowed, and they hang low on her chest. As she rode my cock they swayed heavily with a delicious light slapping sound as their weight swung them out and to the sides and then back into her body. I wanted to reach up and cup their weight in my hands, I wanted to feel my hands full of her tits; but I was enjoying their free movement too much to compromise it. Instead I concentrated on watching her face as she fucked herself vigorously. Her broad mouth was slack with pleasure whilst her eyes were screwed up in concentration. I knew that this was a good position for her. My cock bends upwards quite markedly - what you might call a banana dick. If I let her wriggle around on top of me I know she can line up the head of my penis with the root of her clitoris as it hits the back of her vagina.
Emma is lousy at giving me head, but she more than makes up for it with her sincere conviction that my penis is very large. It isn't, but her relative lack of experience, and my relative thickness and curviness happily coincide to give us both what gets us off. Looking at her face I knew that the head of my cock was hitting that G spot every time she sank down on to it. She was making lovely grunts and pants of exertion as she pumped herself up and down. Her knees were astride my thighs and she was leaning back on her hands. Her whole body seemed presented towards me. Her untrimmed bush glistened moistly, and I could see the pinkness of her outer lips curling and uncurling around the shaft of my cock as it moved in and out. The angle of her body was pulling my penis down and away from my belly, causing a thrilling tension in my groin. I could feel my pleasure building, could feel the heat in my loins intensifying. I sat up and leaned into her body, cupping her plump buttocks with my hands, and drawing my knees up behind her. She pushed herself up on her knees and held still as I started humping up into her. My thrusts were fast and hard and she grunted sharply each time my cock banged up her. She let her arms fall against my back and I pushed my face into her tits, revelling in the smell of her. She started to cum, yelping out her pleasure in thrilling gasps as her cunt tightly spasmed on my shaft. I groaned deeply into her tits as my penis started pumping my orgasm into her. I felt big and powerful, surrounded by softness, by Emma's deliciously yielding femininity. As our climaxes subsided she sank down into my lap, absently stroking my hair. I felt our juices dampening my thighs. I put my head back and found her mouth with my lips. She kissed me passionately. Her tongue felt small and soft in my mouth. My stubble felt rough and crude against her skin. I pulled her towards me strongly; I felt my softening cock pulse in her cunt as her breasts mashed up against my hairy chest. Gently she pushed me back down on to the bed, and followed, snuggling into my armpit. Her left leg was still thrown over mine, and the head of my cock was still lodged just inside her.
We lay there companionably for a while, listening as our breathing returned to normal. I loved these moments with Emma. She was always so contented by our fucking. She never ruined our post coital bliss with anxious queries about how it was for me, or with passive aggressive little pointers about how it could be better for her.
'Let's have Tom and Jude over for dinner on Saturday' Her head was tucked under my chin; she was absently fingering the hairs on my chest, 'You haven't seen Tom for a couple of weeks, and you know how much I like Jude.'
'Yeah, he really likes you too.' I kissed the top of her head, 'I forgot to tell you that Jude asked me to send his love the last time I saw them.'
'It'll be fun to see them. We could make cocktails - the last time we had margueritas Tom was hysterical.'
'Yes he was.' My tone was flat and unenthusiastic.
'What's the matter, don't you want them to come?' She tilted her head up to look at me.
I didn't know what to say. Wrapped in Tom and Jude's arms with a belly full of their cum and Tom's piss, my arsehole truly liberated, all I'd wanted to do was come home and share with Emma my sense of euphoria. I'd wanted her very badly then. Had wanted exactly what we now shared. I'd wanted to hold her and murmur my intimate desires into her hair and feel her great comforting approval as she put her arms round me.
The next Friday, I couldn't wait to get home. It'd been a shitter of a day, and I longed to get out of my suit. As the road eventually cleared I pushed down hard on the Saab's accelerator and felt a delicious corresponding roar from under the bonnet. The day's only consolation was that I'd managed to get out of the office at lunchtime; Marie had held back the tide of incoming bullshit for an hour and a half and I'd managed to get up to Soho. I glanced at my briefcase on the passenger seat next to me. I'd bought a beautiful leather strap on for Emma, complete with the most perfect jet-black dildo. It curved upward at the end and had a series of deep ridges around its head. It reminded me, in shape and size, of Jude's penis. My arsehole contracted in my underpants. It felt tight and clenched. I couldn't imagine it spreading to accept the dildo, let alone Tom's massive member. I felt a painful pang in my chest as I thought of my best friend. What was I doing ignoring him? And yet it didn't feel okay to imagine contacting him. I was confused.
Emma, bless her, had anticipated my day. The house was in darkness as I closed the front door behind me. I found her in the dining room, surrounded by candles, holding out a large tumbler of single malt towards me. I felt a rush of warmth for her. As I took in what she was wearing I felt my penis stiffening uncomfortably in the confinement of my pants. She'd loosely tied her hair up. Strands of it had escaped, accentuating the length of her neck. Her magnificent breasts were pushed upward and out by a black lacy bra that I hadn't seen before. She was wearing a long sheer gown that tied just under her breasts. As I looked closer I could see that she wasn't wearing pants. I felt my breath coming more heavily. To complete her upmarket whore look she'd put on a pair of spectacularly elegant high heels. I took a gulp of malt. I felt it burning in my throat as I roughly crushed her to me. She'd clearly been anticipating my return. As I pushed my tongue into her mouth she sucked on it eagerly, groaning and writhing against me. I loved the feeling of her squirming body through my suit. I loved her semi nakedness. I cupped her breasts and pushed the bra up over them. They escaped enthusiastically, and bounced warmly and heavily against my hands. We were panting into each other's mouths. She was frantically trying to get my dick out, but was feckless in her excitement. I let go of her tits and opened my belt and trousers. My penis sprang up against the bottom of my shirt as I pushed my trousers and underwear over my arse and down my thighs, and then felt thrillingly sandwiched as she crushed herself against me. My cock felt hot against her belly. I had to have her, right now.
I turned her round roughly and pushed her down onto the dining table. I draped her negligee over her plump rump and exposed her bare bottom. She tilted her pelvis back towards me. I grabbed my cock and pushed it against the notch of her vagina; she was very wet. She wriggled slightly at the contact and I bent my legs to get the angle right. I pushed forward strongly and we both gasped as my penis slid right up inside her. Blood rushed to my head and it pulsed with heat. I could feel the rhythm of my pulse behind my eyeballs. I didn't pause for either of us to get used to my being inside her, but started thrusting in and out. I looked down and watched as her lips curled and uncurled frothily around my girth. Her arsehole looked tight and inviting, winking at me just above my cock. I stuck my fat thumb in my mouth, wetting it, and then pushed it against her anus. She moaned at the touch and started humping roughly back against me as I pushed my thumb into her arse. I was screwing her hard and crudely. There was no finesse to my movements. I banged out the frustrations of the day and heard myself groaning deeply. I knew I wasn't going to last long, and from the urgency of her panting, I knew she wasn't far off either. I pulled my cock out of her cunt. It glistened in the candlelight. I pushed it against her anus. Emma turned to look back at me. Most of her hair had escaped and her tousled tresses framed her face.
'Please. Yes. Fuck my arse.' I still hadn't got used to Emma with a dirty mouth.
Thankfully I was leaking pre-cum like a fire hose. That and the coating of her juices was just enough. I pushed forward, a little more gently, and felt her anus contract around my cock head. My breathing was ragged. I waited a moment, and then felt her arsehole dilate.
'Oh God.' She dropped her head back onto the table as I pushed my dick up to the hilt; she rolled it violently as I started packing cock in and out of her arse. The tightness felt overwhelming. I grabbed her hips and pounded her, relishing the slapping of her buttocks against my thighs. I felt her shifting slightly as she pushed a hand down to her cunt. She wriggled as she started masturbating with her characteristic urgency. I loved how much pleasure she got from having her arse stuffed. I had a better sense now of what she was experiencing. Her groans were deep each time my cock filled her up. She made high-pitched crying sounds as her orgasm hit and her arse released a series of wet farts around my cock as her anus spasmed. The rhythmic gripping of her climax pushed me over. I staggered against her as the heat consumed me. I held my penis hard inside as it pumped spunk into her rectum.
We took the bottle of malt to bed. We frequently ended up in bed early on Friday evenings; being tucked up under the duvet felt like a comforting nest for both of us. We could process the week, pick from take away food cartons, sip whiskey, unwind our tensions, and all the time engage in low level, sporadic sex. I had the tip of my left index finger lodged between the lips of her cunt. She was feeding me a juicy chunk of satayed pork. I chewed on it noisily, relishing the rich sweetness. I swallowed the pork and took a swig of single malt. My head was buzzing pleasantly. I felt warm and relaxed.
'I've bought you a present.'
Her eyes shone expectantly. She knew it was something sexy. A couple of weeks ago I'd brought home a French maid's uniform. She'd had a colossal orgasm as I'd ripped it off her, fucking her hard up against the kitchen door.
I got out of bed and padded over to my briefcase, which I'd thrown on a sofa in the corner. My cock swung between my thighs, making a thick slapping sound. It'd lengthened considerably just thinking about the beautiful leather harness.
Her eyes had widened fearfully when I first showed it to her. I think she'd thought it was a bondage device. I knew that for all her enjoyment of submission she hated the idea of being tied up - I'd tried to tie her wrists to the bedposts once and she'd started sobbing.
I buckled her into the harness and she caressed the leather lovingly. She looked amazing in it. She caught my eye and laughed. She started dancing round the room, the dildo bobbing obscenely in her crotch.
We drank a lot more malt. I got out my digital camera and took some amazingly horny pictures of her brandishing her new cock as I jacked off.
Later we were back on the bed. My tongue was down her throat. My hand was in her crotch, my index finger and thumb encircled the base of the cock, whilst the rest of my hand pushed under the harness into her wet cunt. My cock was very hard.
'Would you like to try fucking me?' My voice was thick and quivered as I spoke.
'Would you like that?' Her voice was full of questions. This clearly didn't line up with her image of who I was.
I slathered the dildo with lube and got on all fours in front of her.
'Hold my hips and push it against my hole.'
I could feel movement behind me; the dildo poked my buttock. I heard her giggle. I rested my head on the bed and reached my hands up and parted by arse cheeks. She got the dildo in my crack, but it was too high.
'Lower.' I gasped in frustration.
Suddenly it jabbed inside me. I howled. She gasped an apology and I felt the rubber cock withdraw.
'Try again.' This wasn't working for me. I felt slightly ridiculous. There was no sense of will coming from her. No urgency. No feeling of control. I had no confidence that she could fuck me as I needed.
This time she pushed the dildo inside gently. My arse opened easily and I felt it slide, jerkily, inside. Her hands felt small and light as they gripped my hips. I ground back against the dildo; it was starting to feel good. My cock, which had shrivelled, started to thicken. I moved back against the shaft inside me, attempting to intensify the sensations inside; but rather than brace herself against me, she moved back with me. I panted in frustration. I had no sense of being taken. I wanted her to take charge. I wanted her to fill me with her lust, I wanted her to take the initiative, to transcend her natural passivity. She started jerking the rubber cock in me, but there was no strength in her thrusts, and no real movement occurred inside me. I longed for the feeling of friction I'd felt as Tom's penis slid in and out, rubbing against my anus and prostate.
I started wanking my semi-hard cock, but I knew I wasn't going to cum. I'd had too much whiskey and wasn't aroused enough. I pulled myself off the dildo. It came out with a slurping plop. I felt rather stupid and childish. I didn't want to face Emma; I'd offered up my sexual power to her and she'd been unable to respond with any kind of sexual authority of her own. I felt humiliated. My arse stung.
She looked sheepish and deflated, and wouldn't meet my eye. I instantly felt a surge of affection for her. I enfolded her in my arms and pulled her towards me, and she snuggled her head under my chin. The dildo poked my thigh; the lube and my anal mucous made it cold against my skin. I heard her sniffing, and pulled her face up towards me; there were tears in her eyes.
'Sweetheart, what's the matter?'
'I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' Her voice was small and fragile. 'Do you still want to take care of me?'
Early in our relationship, as we'd been enjoying a particularly exhausted post coital moment after I'd fucked her in just about every conceivable position and made her cum screaming my name, she'd asked me if I wanted to take care of her. At the time I'd felt a surge of masculine protectiveness, and crushed her to me, reassuring her with gruff avowals. Now I knew what she was asking, what she'd been unable to relate to. For her I was a protector, a safe place to explore her deep desires for sexual submission. She was my baby, and I was her man. No wonder she'd not been able to fuck me worth a damn - she didn't have a script for that, didn't have any desire to dominate me, didn't have any ability to take a protective, controlling role in relation to a man who turned her on precisely because of his intense machismo. Anal sex for her wasn't about probing the boundaries of sexual roles, of opening up dirty, transgressive possibilities: it might have been a dark, wild and kinky pleasure for her, but it was one that reinforced her traditional identity, rather than unsettle it. I knew that her sexual willingness, and her appreciation of my masculinity, her lust, fulfilled a fundamental need in me. But I also realised that there were places in my identity I needed to explore that I'd never be able to share with her.
Later, whilst she was soaking in a bath I'd run for her, I called Tom. Emma and I had chucked the strap on under the bed, and then I'd made love to her. Lying on top of her as I fucked her cunt, stared into her eyes, and whispered tender obscenities, I'd exulted in her pleasure in my virile dominance.
Tom answered on the third ring.
'Sorry I haven't called.' I didn't announce myself.
'That's okay, matey. I figured you were feeling a bit thrown off track. I wanted to leave you alone till you were feeling okay.'
'I need to see you.'
'Thought you might. Come round tomorrow night. Jude's got choir practice.'
'Thanks.'
We didn't do much talking, at least not for the first couple of hours. He opened the door, and seeing the look on my face, immediately enfolded me in a strong bear hug. I relaxed into his chest and he tightened his arms around me. I rested my chin on his shoulder and put my arms around his waist. He was broad, but firm. He'd stopped playing rugby some years before when he'd got into yoga and meditation. I hadn't believed that anything as flaky as yoga could have kept a man like Tom in shape, until he'd taken me to one of his Astanga classes. I'd panted my way through the class like an old man, watching him elegantly slide and glide from one extraordinary shape to another. Of course, I knew that Tom liked indulging his feminine side, as only a man with as much quiet machismo as he had can do without anxiety. It was quite something to see Tom, with his shaved head, tattoos and practically shaggy torso, padding around a yoga studio with bright red toe nails. I loved him for it.
Eventually he pulled out of our embrace.
'What do you need, me old fruit?' His voice was soft; his eyes were warm.
'Tom, I need you... to take care of me.'
He led me towards the bedroom. His hand, holding mine, felt cool and strong.
He undressed me with quiet efficiency. I stood, calmed by his economical movements. I'd observed Tom in moments of high excitement - not least when I'd watched him fucking the living crap out of his boyfriend Jude - but he always exuded an air of containment, of calm, reasonable self control. He didn't meet my gaze as he unbuttoned my shirt, and took off my tie, but watched his own hands manipulating the task at hand. I became aware of the rhythm of my breath as he took off my shirt, and I felt the air playing across the hairs on my chest. Each of his movements sent out ripples and eddies of draft in the space between our bodies. His hands on my belt were deft and light. The coarse, sexual sound of my zip momentarily broke the almost meditative atmosphere in the room. He eased the jeans over my chunky buttocks, and let them fall into a puddle at my feet. Ignoring the bulge in the front of my trunks, he crouched at my feet and unlaced my shoes and unrolled my socks. He gently lifted each foot in turn, and I stepped free of my trousers. The deep pile of the carpet was deliciously luxurious against the naked soles of my feet.
His head, dark with stubble, was level with my crotch. I could hear him breathing heavily. I looked down. There was a yellow stain in the front of my white pants, which were being pushed out by my rapidly engorging penis. Unlike many men, whose dicks hang from their bodies straight down, mine, even when soft, juts out at a 45-degree angle. That and the size of my balls, means that I display a man sized package, which is especially gratifying given that my dick isn't huge; I'm pretty thick, but nothing spectacular. My cock wasn't fully erect, but poked impressively outwards at Tom. Under his calm, restrained gaze I felt my excitement build. Eventually he gently put his fingers under the elasticated waistband of my pants. The cooler air felt delicious where I'd been constricted, hot and sweaty all day. As he pushed them back over my bum my dick throbbed. Tom pulled the strap wide at the front and pulled the pants clear of my penis, which slapped up against my belly. I was so hard it hurt. I felt an urgent need for some kind of relief. My breath was coming hard. A shiver ran down my spine and made me wriggle deliciously.
Tom encircled the base of my cock, and pulled it down off my belly. He leant forward. I could feel his breath on my wet glans. I'd given up trying to teach Emma how to give me a decent blowjob. She just wasn't very orally orientated, and I have to confess that neither am I. She didn't enjoy having my meat in her mouth, and so didn't relate to it in a meaningful way. Tom might be able to fuck men's arseholes in a way that had them believing they'd seen the face of god, but he was also clearly extremely oral. He took my cock in his mouth like he was savouring every sensation it had to offer him. He slowly rolled my penis round his mouth, breathing heavily into my bush. He was taking in its every smell and taste, exploring every ripple and contour of my foreskin, sucking up every drop of my pre-cum. It felt spectacular. I rested my hands on his bald, stubbly head, which felt weird, but thrilling - I was used to having my hands knotted in women's long soft hair while I fucked their faces. Here I was with Tom's butch cranium under my hands, behaving more passively whilst getting my knob sucked than I'd ever known. I was literally swooning as he made love to my cock. When he'd finished with the head, licking up all the fluids and tastes he could find there, he slowly swallowed the shaft until his nose was in my pubic hair.
His mouth was warm and wet, a squirming agile interior that engulfed my throbbing penis like liquid velvet. Tom's hands grasped my buttocks, firmly pulling my cock down his throat as his fingers nestled in my crack. His touch was firm and controlled, and the contact with my sweaty, hairy butt was grossly intimate. I spread my legs to allow him greater access, and groaned as his index fingers met at my anus, lodging just inside my wrinkled pucker. We were locked like that for what seemed like hours, until he removed one of his fingers; my dick was still down his throat as he reached his arm up towards my face, middle finger stretched out towards my mouth. I leaned forward and took his long thick finger in my mouth. It tasted salty, and slightly bitter. I sucked on it greedily, coating it with saliva. When I'd slathered on it so much that drool was running down his arm, Tom removed his finger and then I felt its cool wetness at my hole. Tom sucked hard on my cock, and firmly pushed at my arse. His finger slid right inside, in one surprising movement. I gasped at the inner contact, shocked at how relaxed my sphincter was. He rotated his finger and my legs buckled as he pushed hard against my prostate.
By the time he'd got three fingers up my rectum I could barely stand. My head was pounding and I was pushing my arse down onto his hand. My cock was still in his throat, but had softened somewhat. It felt disconcerting to be overwhelmed with such intense pleasure and yet not feel any orgasmic heat consolidating in my dick.
At last I felt the fingers withdraw, with some sense of relief. It felt intolerably frustrating to be so stranded in deep sensations with no build towards climax. The shock of the cool air on my wet penis made me gasp as Tom withdrew it from his mouth and stood up. He crushed me to him and with my nakedness pressed against his clothed, hard body, I felt slutty. My arse felt loose and open. I was shocked when he leaned forward and kissed me. The saltiness of his mouth, the roughness of his skin against mine, yielding to moist silkiness inside, felt thrillingly intimate. But this was my best friend. Having his tongue firmly exploring my mouth felt so much ruder than having his hand up my butt. Our stubble chafed and I moaned into his mouth, tasting him, feeling my mouth flooding with his saliva. My cock was again stiff and demanding. I felt consumed by him, even more than when, with his penis deeply buried in my gut, he'd filled me with his cum and piss. I could feel the hard mass of his cock in his pants, pressing against my naked thigh. We'd crossed a line and our friendship would never be the same. I pushed the thought from my mind. I needed this too much to doubt it.
Tom pulled back from the kiss. 'Tim, what do you want?'
'You know what I want... I want you.' I felt thrown, humiliated.
His gaze was hard, evaluating me. 'What do you want from me?'
'I want... I need you... to fuck me.' My voice was small.
'Why, Tim? You're straight.' There was a glint in his eye, but his face remained deadly serious. I relaxed a little.
'I need your cock inside me.'
'Why?' His voice was harsh, but his eye still glinted. My cock throbbed.
'Because I'm a slut. Because I love having my arsehole stuffed with dick.' Something had been released in me. I couldn't stop. 'Because I want to be taken, dominated. I need you to use me, to want me... I just want your cock in me.' I dropped my gaze to his chest.
He crushed his mouth against mine, and I felt his tongue possessively exploring, this time much more passionately.
'Get on the bed. On your back.' The bottom of his face glistened with our saliva. His voice was still hard, but I could hear it quavering with desire.
I turned and climbed on the bed, and lay on my back, propped on my elbows so I could watch him. He'd already shucked his trousers and shirt. As I watched he slipped off his pants. I felt a shock of lust and fear as I saw his penis. I've read a lot of porn. It's easy to convey the idea that his dick was very big, but all those words, massive, huge, throbbing, don't really do justice to what I saw right then. The size of his penis was impressive in itself, but not in some abstract way, but because it was fleshy and veiny, this member that swayed between his legs. It had a sense of mass about it: it looked heavy, it was broad and bent to one side and upwards, with a thick foreskin pushed partially back by his huge red glans that poked out of the end. It stuck out from his hairy body horizontally, bobbing as he moved. I was fearful, because of its size, but I was more shocked by its realness. This wasn't a dildo, or the symbolic idea of a big cock; this was a warm, pulsing organ that was coming towards me, that was going to be inserted inside my body, that would feel hot, that would move inside me and excrete gross fluids, finally flooding me with sperm. This penis had a will behind it: I'd lost control of this situation. I was going to get fucked, hard, continually, until this cock had reached its conclusion, until I'd accepted its warm fluids in my belly. My heart thumped in my chest.
I spread my legs wider. My own cock ached in its hardness against my tummy, leaking pre-cum into the hairs there. The bed sagged as Tom climbed on. There was no awkwardness, just purposeful control, as he lifted my legs up and wrapped my inner thighs round his waist. I moved my elbows out from under my torso and lay back on the bed. My breath was coming in ragged gasps. Looking down he adjusted his cock and lined it up against my hole. He reached over to the side of the bed and deftly pumped some lube into his hand. I briefly felt his sticky finger probing me, and then I felt the warm, blunt, spongy head of his penis pushing against my anus. My cock jumped as I opened my arse and felt him push into me. I again felt a strong urge to shit, as I had last time, and it felt gross and thrilling. I cried out loudly as he pushed the shaft inside, and my arse felt stretched and electrified by the friction. As my rectum filled with his meat I wanted to piss. I rolled my head on the pillow, overwhelmed. There was still movement through my anus, a delicious tight friction of hot skin against hot sticky skin. I felt stuffed, couldn't imagine there was any more room for cock inside me.
Finally he stopped packing cock up me and held still. I felt gorged. Sweat was pouring off me. My arse, stuffed with dick, was pulsing little tense contractions round his thick shaft. Tom reached down and grasped my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and rolled them firmly. Liquid heat burned in my chest and I tossed my head from side to side. My anus let out a slack fart as it relaxed. His penis slid further inside and I cried out at the sensation. Fully relaxed, I was stunned at the intensity of pleasure deep in my arse. I shifted my buttocks in his crotch and felt the hardness of him moving against my inner walls. It was an astonishing feeling, moving against him, fully relaxed and sensing the thickness embedded inside. I moved again, more strongly, and felt his shaft press against my prostate. A thick stream of pre-cum pulsed out of my cockhead. I looked into Tom's face and saw him watching me, and under his curious, but calm gaze, I felt heat move across my body. I spread my legs as wide as I could, unfolding them from around his waist. With my buttocks still resting on the top of his thighs, I braced my legs against the bed and shifted my rump backwards, off his cock. The movement inside me was obscenely vast, and I felt a quick pang of panic: I imagined by bowels being pulled out with his cock. The space inside me felt intolerable and I pushed myself back down onto his shaft, gasping in relief as my rectum was again full of my best friend's meat. An appreciative smile played at the corners of Tom's mouth. My slack hairy belly heaved as I starting humping myself on Tom's big meat, establishing a strong rhythm, grinding my arse into his loins. Tom took a hand away from my nipple to brace himself against the force of my movements. With his other hand he grasped my dick and slowly wanked me.
'Oh shit. Oh shit. Fuck.'
I felt like I was tripping out. My eyes were rolling back in their sockets. My body felt suffused by hot waves of pleasure. And all the time I was aware of Tom's hard evaluative gaze. Never had my sexual behaviour been so abandoned, so surrendered, so lacking in control. I felt a cramp developing in my legs, which were shuddering from the effort of fucking myself, but I couldn't stop. Pleasure expanded in front of me, limitless, and I threw my head back and cried out for it to consume me.
Tom's breathing was becoming more ragged, and he started to grunt as the pleasure of my friction on his cock forced him to move. Letting go of my penis, he pulled my legs up onto his shoulders and bent them forcefully towards my chest, straightening his own legs out behind him. He pushed his dick hard up inside me and then started long continuous strokes fully in and fully out of my arsehole. His fucking became faster and harder, until all I could do was grunt under his assault. My arse was letting out a continuous stream of staccato farts on Tom's outward movement, rapidly cut short as he shoved his cock back inside. I ached for contact with my dick, but my body was so severely bent in two that I couldn't get a hand to myself without stopping Tom's movements and sliding my arm between my chest and thigh, and there was no way I was going to interrupt his vigorous rhythm. Drops of cold sweat were falling from his forehead and nose onto my face and chest.
'You. Fucking. Love. It. Don't. You.' Tom gasped at me, working hard at the fucking, staring deeply into my eyes.
I felt very naked under his gaze.
'Yes. I love you fucking me. Fuck me. Fuck me harder.' I felt bold and wanton, but grunted in pain as he took me at my word and slammed his penis up me like a weapon.
'You. Straight men. You're. All. The. Same.' His words punctuated his thrusts. 'The. Butcher. You are. The. More. You. Want it.'
I just groaned under the barrage he was unleashing on my exposed, slackened arsehole.
We were panting and heaving with ever greater urgency. The energy we were expending, him slamming into me, whilst I humped back up against him, was extraordinary. Our fucking was rough; energetic in a way I'd never experienced with a woman. I felt the pleasure building and building within me. I couldn't have imagined such intense sensations could rip through me without my body exploding. That this was happening as a function of my body being so roughly used, bent double, so as to be unable to touch my own throbbing genitals, would have been unimaginable a few weeks ago. Now I could hear myself moaning and begging incoherently, almost sobbing as Tom pounded me.
Shockingly I felt myself cumming. I was stunned as my cock started jetting sperm. It hit me in the face, neck and chest. Hot thick ropes of cum stuck in my hairy torso, and then more pooled on my belly. I could feel my arsehole clamping around Tom's fat dick, and he cried out, ramming in me viciously and holding his penis inside as he shuddered between my legs, pumping his spunk into my belly. My orgasm continued to crash through me in waves. I still hadn't touched my cock, but could see it between my legs, jumping on my stomach. It continued to pulse sperm, which was drooling from my cock head onto the hairs below. I hadn't come so much since I was a teenager. Tom was prolonging the last moments of his own orgasm, jabbing his cock in my bowels, and grunting, when he started violently. I heard a sound behind him, and reluctantly regained consciousness of the room around us.
Jude was stood in the doorway, slowly clapping.
'Spectacular show, gentlemen. You can join me in the living room when you're ready.'
As he walked down the hallway, Tom and I looked at each other dumbly. I'd been so wrapped up in my own explorations, in my own transgressions, that I hadn't considered the implications of us having sex on Tom's relationship with Jude.
Tom pulled his cock out of me abruptly. I grunted as I felt the thick mass being roughly withdrawn, and it cleared by slackened hole with a rude slurp.
'Get dressed, Tim.' Tom had already pulled on sweat pants and was reaching for a t-shirt. I hadn't got into my underwear when he left the room. I felt rather desolate. One of the most intense experiences of my life had been cut short. I was reeling, trying to make sense of the complex, and not entirely pleasant, emotions buzzing through me. I'd come here to try and resolve what had become a severe conflict between my social and emotional identity as a man and my sexual urges. Having just had the most intense orgasm of my life, having just been willingly fucked to a point of incoherence, by my best friend, the man I felt closest to in the world, he'd abandoned me, even before the cum had dried on my body. I didn't know what I wanted from Tom, but it wasn't this.
I heard them murmuring as I approached the living room. As I walked in I could see them hugging near the couch. I felt awkward. An intruder. Abandoned. My rectum felt raw and painful, and I could feel cum and lube oozing into my pants, making a sticky mess.
Tom had his hands in Jude's thick, wavy hair, was consoling him. Jude saw me over Tom's shoulder and smiled - not as warmly as the last time I'd seen him, but still affectionately.
'Jude, I'm so sorry... I don't know what to say.'
Jude broke away from Tom and walked towards me. He took my hand and we moved towards the sofa.
'Now Tim, don't start getting into a guilt frenzy. Me and Tom aren't monogamous, you know, and I was, shall we say, involved, the last time you and Tom got naked.' He smirked at me and my arsehole contracted, oozing out more cum. 'But as Tom very well knows,' he leered at his boyfriend, 'we have ground rules about fucking other people. And one of those is that we don't do repeat business with outsiders. Another is that we don't rub each other's noses in our extra curricular activities. Much as I enjoyed your rather spectacular display, I think it most definitely counts as rubbing my nose in it. If Tom wanted to have sex with you again he should have made sure I was here too, otherwise it just feels too fucking sneaky and disrespectful.'
Tom passed us both tumblers containing generous measures of his scotch. I gratefully took a long slug of mine, relishing the burning warmth as it slid down.
'I didn't come here to come between you guys.' I paused and looked at Jude. When he nodded his understanding, I carried on. 'I didn't even expect us to have sex. I've been in a bit of a mess since what happened between us, and I needed to talk to my best friend. Trouble is, he's part of the problem...' I trailed off miserably.
'Oh for fuck's sake, Tim, what's your problem?' Tom was exasperated, but there was still softness in his voice. I felt dislocated: this was the man who'd been fucking my brains out not ten minutes earlier; whose cum was dribbling down my leg; whose sweat had mingled with mine and dried in crusty patches on my face and shoulders. Now here we were trying to make rational sense of all of this, like grown ups. I wasn't ready to be a grown up. I wanted to languish in bed, making sense of my feelings.
Jude took my hand in his and absently stroked it. 'Tim, are you having trouble coming to terms with your bisexuality?'
I roughly pulled back my hand. 'I'm not bisexual. I'm straight. I've got a girlfriend.'
'And you like getting fucked up the arse by gay men!' Tom's voice was incredulous.
'But I'm not sure that I fancy men.'
'There's different ways of experiencing desire, Tim.' Jude had shifted on the sofa to face me. His body language was soft and unthreatening; I could see that he was trying to placate me, yet his manner was so charming that I could feel myself being seduced. His eyes shone with passion. 'You're clearly very excited by having sex with men. But you're used to relating to other men in competitive, male bonding environments. Let's face it you're a pack leader, you're powerful, respected, you expect to be treated with a degree of deference to your authority... If I didn't know you as I do, I'd dismiss you as a macho shit head. Perhaps you need to get used to the idea that whilst that might be important to your identity in the world, you also have another aspect to your identity that's about being more sexually...' He trailed off, unable to find the right word.
'Passive?' Tom was smirking at me cheekily.
I felt some of my disorientation slip away. They might have been forcing me to tackle difficult stuff, but they were both such warm, affectionate men, that I felt cared for by their calmness and generosity. The whiskey was hitting the spot, and I started to feel less of an outsider, more included again. Even a little flirtatious.
'I prefer the term actively receptive myself.' I pouted at Tom.
Jude howled with laughter. 'Oh you definitely looked actively receptive to me, you horny slut!'
'Bitch!' I lunged at Jude, wrestling him off the sofa. We rolled onto the floor, each trying to get on top of the other.
I could hear Tom laughing above us. 'Girls, girls, girls!'
Jude and I were a sweaty, heaving mass. We were both grunting and giggling in equal measure. He managed to pin one of my arms under his knee and got my flies undone. I got free and lifted my feet to his chest to push him away; we rolled to one side as we tussled and Jude grabbed my jeans as we separated. As Jude pulled at my Levis and trunks they slid down my thighs, exposing my bottom. I howled, in laughter and in outrage, and lifted myself onto my hands and knees, instinctively trying to cover my nakedness. Jude had rolled away and was trying to lever himself upright. I lunged at him again, pinning him down. He giggled uncontrollably as I stuck my hand down his pants. His cock was hard. I realised that mine was too when I felt a sharp smack on my backside. As I wavered under the assault my cock slapped up against my belly.
'You're very naughty boys. You're going to have to be punished.' Tom slapped me again. He could barely keep a straight face, but he was also flushed. His dick made an obscene lump in the front of his sweats. He slapped me again, but this time neither of us found it funny. I was looking over my shoulder at him; I could feel my hairy cheek stinging like hell. He was looking intense.
'God your arse looks red...' He slapped me again. He exuded a calm excitement; he was watching my rear end with concentrated curiosity. I loved the sense of possession he exuded; I suddenly felt still, patient. I was waiting for the next move he would make on me. He caressed my buttocks, enjoying the heat under his palm. Jude wriggled under me. I turned back to look at him and he leaned into my face and kissed me. His touch was softer, more exploratory than his boyfriend's. Jude's hands were in my crotch, massaging my cock. Tom smacked me again. He wasn't being particularly vicious; more than the severity of his hits, I was enjoying his feeling of control.
'Shit your arse looks sexy.' He pushed his fingers into my crack. I was still sticky from our earlier fucking. He fingered my slackened hole roughly. I felt slutty.
'Jude. Go and get the lube. I'm going to fuck you stupid.'
Jude didn't hang about, but hauled himself from under me and jogged off down the hall. Tom's fingers were still up my arse. He pulled them out and started stripping off his clothes. My arse felt empty, but I got to my feet and stripped too. I felt a little disappointed that I wasn't going to get fucked, but I understood that this was about their relationship. Tom needed to show Jude he was still his man.
Jude came back brandishing the bottle of lube. 'Let's party! And this time, if you don't mind, I'll be the star attraction!'
Tom sat on the couch, with his big dong sticking up; a gross, fleshy mass, ridiculously proportioned, intensely thrilling. I took a chair at right angles to him.
Jude stood just inside the doorway; he threw the bottle to Tom, who deftly caught it. Jude reached for the hem of his top and pulled it up over his head, then stretched his arms up to release them from his sleeves. He dropped his arms, holding the top in his left hand as it trailed on the floor. The hair in his armpits was surprisingly dense and dark. He had a cocky, adorable expression on his face. His tousled hair had fallen over one eyebrow, and his eyes sparkled under Tom and I's gaze. Jude's chest was smoothly contoured, in a toned, lithe kind of way. I've never understood why so many gay men value bodies that don't look real - bodies so manicured they don't look like they have a smell. I'd always imagined that a taste for such idealised, unnatural perfection, was associated with fancying men, that if you got turned on by looking at knobs, you'd appreciate plastic bulges. For me the appeal of bodies is in their corporeality - their smells and textures and excretions. I couldn't imagine getting aroused by studying or touching skin that looked pre-formed. Given my increased heart-rate at the sight of Tom's man-sized cock I was getting my head round the idea that I might be aroused by men's bodies. It was a startling revelation for a man obsessed with women's arses; who loved to hold their swinging breasts as I banged their butt-holes. What was particularly striking about Jude's chest were his nipples, which were extremely large and dark; I hadn't noticed them the last time we'd been naked together. His swimmer's torso was smooth and hairless, and his belly button bulged outward slightly, which I'd never seen before. I found myself becoming breathless with curiosity as he reached for his pants. I'd had my hand on his cock only minutes before, but now, as he stripped for our pleasure, stalling us as he fingered the waistband of his Calvins, I felt a strong, surprising desire to see his erection poking up out of his bush.
I didn't have to wait long. Jude was in too much of a hurry to keep us in suspense. His pants came off in one swift movement, and as he stood up, leaving them lewdly discarded on the floor, his cock bounced against his hairless, firm belly. He wasn't circumcised, but unlike Tom and I, his foreskin fully retracted when he was hard. There was a deep ridge behind his glans, but they themselves were quite slender, coming almost to a point. No wonder he'd got up my arse with such relative ease last time.
I ended up watching them passionately kissing, writhing against one another, for some time before getting involved myself, and only then because Jude turned his cute green eyes toward me and made a suggestion so exciting that I nearly wet myself.
They were an attractive couple. They'd been seeing each other for about six months, and Jude was practically living at Tom's place. You could tell they were still in the zone. They'd known each other long enough to have ironed out all the awkwardness. Long enough to know what made the other close his eyes and exhale in ecstasy. Not too long that stimulating such a response had ceased to be fascinating. Jude's lithe, smooth slimness made a striking contrast with Tom's stocky hairiness. Tom had tattoos across his shoulder and down his left arm to the elbow, with more on his right leg and in his groin. His shaved scalp looked rude and phallic against Jude's shaggy locks.
I realised that something fundamental had shifted in me as I watched them. My cock throbbed. Not because I anticipated them playing with my arse; we'd gone way past the point where my interest in them was purely to do with sensations they could offer me. Seeing Tom's lips sucking at Jude's dark nipples, I felt desire rise in me. Desire to feel Tom's soft and moist mouth on me, to feel the stubble of his cheek chafe me. Desire to suck on Jude's nipple and feel it hardening under my tongue. I think I'd justified my previous sexual encounters with this gay couple by imagining that if I let them do stuff to me it didn't compromise my masculinity. I now realised that my masculinity was always going to be intact. Tom was one of the most macho, and yet most gentle, men I'd ever met. What was no longer intact was my heterosexuality. I fancied these two queer men having sex in front of me, and I had from the moment I'd first seen them fucking. Just like I fancied Emma, fancied, in fact, practically every woman whose arse could make my cock rise. I was bisexual.
I watched as Jude slathered Tom's dick with lube; I could see it jumping in his hands. He was kneeling between his boyfriend's legs. Tom was practically lying on the couch - thankfully it was big enough to accommodate him, being one of those broad, deep affairs, covered in acres of dark, matt leather. Jude got up and climbed onto the sofa, feet either side of Tom's waist. He crouched down over his boyfriend's crotch, grabbing the back of the sofa for support. As Jude's arse came in range, Tom grabbed his penis and held it steady. There was a concentrated fluidity to their movements. They'd obviously done this many times before and were focussed by their intense desire. Tom's face was serious, his chest rising and falling deeply. I stroked my hard cock, feeling blood rush to my face. Jude gasped when he felt Tom's glans at his anus. My view was extraordinary. Jude's back was so fully arched, his buttocks so spread by the angle of his legs, that I could see Tom's foreskin being pushed back, rippling against Jude's opening as the sphincter relaxed. They both exhaled, Tom's eyes closed, and I saw the top half of Tom's dick distend Jude's rectum and disappear. It was an amazing sight, seeing flesh actually moving inside a body. Jude sighed as he sank down on Tom's fat cock; when it was fully inside he groaned deeply and shifted, grinding himself into Tom's hairy crotch. It was shocking to see Tom's large dong so easily accommodated; but I remembered Tom telling me, weeks before we'd had sex, how much Jude enjoyed getting fucked, that he couldn't get enough. His rectum was clearly highly elastic.
I was about to find out just how elastic it was.
Tom's large hands held Jude's waist as the latter rode up and down, jamming himself onto the big cock. Tom's forearms were long and highly muscled, and darkly shadowed by hair. His ornate tribal tattoo glistened with his perspiration, and rippled and pulsed with the effort of the musculature beneath. I could smell them: musky, sweaty, maleness laced with traces of stale cock and ripe arse. Their odour mixed with that of the lube, and the leather sofa. They weren't making much noise; their rhythmic panting was punctuated with strong exhales and a groan from Jude now and then as Tom's cock strongly stroked his prostate. They paused to kiss, lewdly devouring each other's faces in a mass of wet lips, pink tongues and stubble-shadowed skin. Their hunger was exciting. Jude was writhing, tripping on the dick stuffed up him. Their heads were leant close, and I heard intimate murmurings. They looked over at me. Tom was grinning; Jude's slack, sweaty face looked urgent.
'Tim, come over here and stick your fat cock up my arse... I want to feel both of you in me.' His voice was tight and strained.
It took me a moment to register what he wanted. I'd never imagined such a thing. I'd seen porn videos where women had got dicks in their cunts and arseholes. The idea of Tom and I both cramming ourselves in Jude's bowels was gross; the thrill of its depravity ran through me. My head was spinning and I realised that I was holding my breath. My penis felt like a bone, leaking pre-cum, throbbing between my legs.
I walked to the couch and picked up the lube. The touch of my hand as I smeared the white gunk on my erection was like fire. We'd have had no chance had I not had one of the best hard-ons of my life. Jude was arching his back up towards me sharply. I stood with my legs outside of Tom's thighs and crouched slightly to bring the head of my dick towards the distended hole. I could feel the heat radiating from them, damp and randy. My cock rubbed Tom's as I lodged it against Jude's arse lips. I struggled for a while, rather ineffectually, defeated by the slipperiness of my cock and Jude's crack. Each time I pressed forward firmly, my dick would slide off or buckle against Jude's stuffed hole. I leaned forward, resting my chest against Jude's back. Tom looked up at me and we gazed at each other intently. I felt his love and affection for me, his appreciation of my manliness.
'Let's fuck him, Tim. Shove your dick up his slutty hole.'
'Oh yeah. Use me.' Jude's voice was eager, pleading.
I pushed again, holding my penis firm.
'Ah! Ah! Oh Jesus!' Jude threw his head back violently as the head of my cock pushed inside.
'Oh yeah! You got it!' Tom's voice was rich with lust and admiration.
We were both strongly identified with Jude; Tom had his hands round his boyfriend's face, encouraging him, reassuring him. I was stroking his back, helping him stay firmly in place, staked on our conjoined dicks. Jude's sphincter relaxed slightly against my cock. I pushed hard and felt his anus give, and then I was sliding inside, feeling slick movement against my cock, feeling the hardness of Tom's joint jammed against me. I'd never felt such tightness inside another body. I imagined Jude's sense of abandon, his need to submit to us, his lust for subjugation. I felt the responsibility of his desire, and wanted to give him what he needed. I felt a generosity and tenderness towards him, and a strong sense of intimacy with Tom; we were both working to satisfy Jude - it was our cocks he needed, our will, our authority as men. Our potency was an almost tangible force in the room. We started trying to co-ordinate are movements inside. It was tricky; Jude's sphincter felt elastic, and it was spasming hard around the gross girth of our cocks. It felt as though any long strokes would expel me from his arse. Our fucking was gentle but firm. It was my penis that provided most of the friction for us. Tom had less mobility of movement than me; he was concentrating on keeping his huge dong stuffed inside. My jabbing fucked Tom's dick as it fucked Jude's hole. Jude was grunting with animal-like abandon. He was clearly riding the outer edges of some deep fantasy, yielding to the intense submission. He kept tossing his head from side to side. He was radiating a massive amount of moist, sweaty heat.
As I continued my small, fucking motions, my pleasure started to build. I could still feel the rawness of my own rectum from the pounding I'd got from Tom earlier, and it heightened my pleasure. I was a man who liked to get fucked, fucking a man who was writhing on two fat cocks. My penis throbbed, Jude's arsehole slackened, and the mechanical difficulties of our position receded. I pushed down hard on Jude's back; his skin was slippery under my hand. He moved all the way down onto Tom, resting his head beside his boyfriend's. I shifted my hips and felt my penis slide inside another couple of inches. Jude's head reared up.
'Fuck!'
Tom grabbed Jude's head again and they started kissing, with wide open mouths, tongues squirming and probing. Their passion was one of the most arousing things I've ever seen. I heard Jude moaning into Tom's mouth
I was buried inside to the hilt. I felt them both passive beneath me. I was fucking Jude's arse, but it also felt like I was fucking Tom. I started making longer, more powerful pumping movements.
'Jesus! Fuck me baby! Stuff me with that cock.'
Jude's moans were becoming more incoherent. He was pleading, sobbing almost, as I fucked him harder. I felt Tom's knob moving against mine as he started humping from beneath, our shafts chafed against one another as they chafed the soft, slackening tightness of Jude's rectum. I looked down at my dick moving in and out; it was very red and thick. I could see Tom's bigger penis below. Jude's arselips were curling and uncurling around our shafts: the movement was grotesque, unnatural and thrilling. I jabbed harder, concentrating on the sensations I was getting. I could feel Jude's hole spasming.
'Oh god! Je - sus! Shit! I'm cumming. Oh god... fuck me. Fuck me. Please. God.'
Jude was manic, overwhelmed. He bucked back against me, almost pushing me out. I jammed my dick in him hard. His rectum was clenching fiercely on our knobs. His movements were frenzied as he tried to get some friction on his penis by rubbing it between their bellies.
'Oh baby, yes, go on. Baby, take it. Come on. There you go. Oh yeah.' Tom's hands were in his lover's hair as Jude came. I couldn't see his dick pumping semen onto Tom's chest, but I could smell his sperm thickly in the air, mingling with the other intimate, crude smells of our fucking.
Jude collapsed onto Tom's chest, resting his head on Tom's shoulder. With his arms round his lover, I felt Tom begin hard thrusts. I matched him, and our movements became synchronised. Our eyes were locked. We were fucking each other. Jude's groans were pained now that the vast intensity of his orgasm had passed.
'It's okay baby... nearly... there. I know. You're doing great.' Tom's words were soothing, but his fucking was savage. Jude grunted with the discomfort. It heightened our pleasure.
Tom's mouth gaped open, a silent cry. I gasped as the bottom fell out of my stomach. I felt Tom's penis jumping against mine as we spurted our seed into Jude's belly. We were turning him into a receptacle for our male fluids, a vessel through which we bonded, where our juices mingled. As my movements slowed I could feel the slick stickiness inside. We'd fulfilled Jude's deep desires, his primitive need to be used. But he'd fulfilled our need for savagery. I'd seen the look on Tom's face, as he'd seen mine, as we'd violently fucked Jude's rectum, relishing his moans of discomfort and pain. I knew that my pleasure lay, in part, in punishing Jude, in using my prick to abuse him. And I knew that he wanted that, as I had. My bowels were still leaking Tom's cum; the same cum that was coalescing with my own inside Jude.
I lay down on Jude's back, pressing my weight down on both of them. My penis was pulled upward, and the angle was too steep. It popped out of his hole. I could feel the cum oozing into his crack as my cock lodged there. I knew that there'd be blood on my penis. The smell of cum and shit was strong. Tom put his arms up round Jude, and rested his hands on my waist. His touch was firm, his hands broad. I put my arms on his, and we grasped each other, pulling our bodies together, each squeezing the other to Jude, who snuggled between us.
Eventually I realised that I had to do something. I still loved Emma as much as ever but our sex life had really dried up and we were barely communicating. The house felt tense and awkward all the time and we didn't seem to know how to talk to each other. It was all very well facing up to the fact that I was bisexual when I was having sex with Jude and Tom, but when I was home with Emma I realised that there were ways I was changing and developing that I didn't know how to negotiate with her. God knows how I was going to tell her that I'd cheated on her. With two men. And that one of them was my best friend. And that the other was rapidly becoming one of her best friends. But I guess things had to get a lot worse before they were going to get better.
Tom, Jude and I had got together several times since I'd come out to myself. I hadn't ever imagined that my sex life could so strongly articulate the images and sensations that had lurked behind my masturbatory fantasies. On one occasion when I arrived at Tom's place he hadn't even allowed me to get undressed. He had ordered me to sit in the leather chair in their bedroom while he stuck his fist up Jude's arse. Watching them push their bodies to such extremes; hearing the scary animal noises Jude made as his sphincter clenched around Tom's wrist, felt like I'd landed in a porn movie, except that the players were men I was growing to love intimately. Another time, I'd had to stop at a service station on the way home to clean myself because so much cum was oozing out of my arse. That time, Tom had cum up my arse three times and Jude once, them both glorying in the sloppy, looseness of my hole. That my fantasies about submission and domination could be so thrillingly played out in front of me; that I was allowed to participate, to inhabit such a sexually adventurous place and not mediate my identity, was an amazing liberation.
Tom and I both knew it was wrong, that we were breaking the rules, but several times we'd had sex without Jude. My feelings for Tom's boyfriend had grown to an extent that fucking behind his back made me feel like a shit, but from time to time there was an energy between Tom and me that exploded, silently consuming us, reducing me to witlessness. He had a power over me that made my legs shake and my cock hard. I loved being serviced by him, being used. I guess I loved feeling like his bitch. I was driving him home after a rugby match one evening when he told me to pull the car off the road into a wooded lane. The tone of his voice as he issued his instructions had instantly given me a hard on, and made my arsehole contract. Jammed back against the reclined seat it had been such a turn on to beg him to put his fat cock inside me, there in my own car, the black, shiny turbo-charged expression of my manhood. He hadn't even taken my pants off, just pulled them down to my knees and used them to lever my legs up, exposing my hairy bottom. In the dim light inside the car his penis, wedged against the elastic of his joggers, had looked simultaneously frightening and thrilling. As ever, I couldn't believe how all that cock could fit inside me, yet couldn't wait to get it in there. He'd held me tightly back against the seat, his hard eyes glittering. I knew how much of a turn on it was for him to dominate me. In all the time we'd known each other I'd been so cocky, such a stud. I'd fucked more women than I could remember, had lived it up with the lads, enjoyed my masculinity, been aware of its allure to women and men alike. And here I was being fucked up the arse in my own car, humping myself violently against my gay lover, clenching my sphincter around his thick meaty shaft.
Another time Tom came to my workplace one afternoon. He didn't say anything as he shut the door to my office. He'd stripped off completely whilst I sat mute behind my desk, ranks of expensive gadgets and mahogany no defence against my desire for him. He'd held my gaze as he removed his clothes, carefully, and with an almost precise control. My heart had pounded as his hairy, tattooed torso was revealed. By the time he was stood there in his briefs, his outsized erect cock not even barely concealed by the cotton, my face was flushed and I was finding it difficult to breathe. He knew the effect he was having on me, totally at ease with his own nakedness, whilst I sat in my huge leather chair, fully clad in my Prada suit, feeling shy and passive. My secretary, Marie, was at her desk on the other side of the plywood as Tom dicked me against the door. I bit my lip as he whispered sweet abuse in my ear, roughly holding my arms up over my head. I felt dangerously compromised, angry even, that he'd exposed me here at work, and yet I couldn't stop myself from grinding my buttocks into his crotch, swallowing my groans as I felt his stiffness moving inside me. Afterwards I'd felt a pang of shame as I tried to blot cum off my shirttails and suit pants. Then I'd caught Tom's eye and we'd shared an intimate grin that made my sore sphincter spasm, forcing out a blob of his warm spunk.
That night I'd come home late, tired and guilty. I hadn't fucked Emma in a couple of weeks - the longest we'd gone since she'd moved in six months earlier. We'd been seeing each other for about eight months, and until I'd had sex with Tom not a day had gone past that she and I hadn't had some kind of sexual contact. She hadn't always wanted me to fuck her. Sometimes she was just content to know that she could turn me on in any situation - that she could transform a dull party, or supermarket shopping, into a thrilling intimate game. She constantly liked to prove to me that she could keep pace with any sexual experience I'd had before I met her. It was one of the positive side effects of being older than her.
I knew things weren't going to be okay as soon as I dumped my briefcase by the front door. The house was silent. No music playing in the kitchen as she clanged saucepans. No TV news in the living room. No shower running upstairs. No chattering on the phone.
She was sat on the couch reading a magazine.
'Hello darling'
'Hello.' She didn't even look up properly.
'Have a good day?' I was determined not to give in to the mood.
'Okay.'
'Is everything alright darling?'
'Fine.'
I took her at her word and went upstairs for a shower. Much later, after I'd defrosted some lasagne and opened a bottle of Shiraz, we got to it. She whined about me not having taken out the rubbish for a couple of weeks. She whined about me not having left any cash out for the cleaner. She whined about how difficult it was going to be for her to get to a meeting next week that coincided with her car getting serviced until I offered her the Saab. Being the boss I knew I'd have time to get in later on the train. And all the time she whined I felt a growing sense of frustration with her passivity, with her concealed aggression. She never confronted me about such matters directly, but always pecked away, little acidic comments, underplayed with her eyes cast down, taking a bite of food, sipping her wine, flicking back her hair. Never direct. Never controlled. Never confrontational. Never taking responsibility for herself, always expecting me to be the grown up.
I responded to her passive aggression with sweetness and humility, accepting my role as uncivilised Neanderthal, irredeemable bloke. Eventually she managed to squeeze out little smiles, especially as I complemented her on her hair, her clothes, her make up. When she got up from the table to get the bottle from the counter I pulled her to me and kissed her, roughly, sexually, pushing my tongue into her mouth.
'Tim - ' She tried to pull away. 'Not now.'
I pulled her firmly down into my lap and she knocked a plate off the table, and cursed impatiently. Her hands were on my chest, trying to push herself off me, but she was unbalanced, trying not to cause further damage to the crockery. My tongue became more insistent as my hands found the bottom of her skirt and slipped up to her buttocks. She was still resisting but my fingers had pushed aside her panties and found her arsehole. She gasped into my mouth and I pulled back slightly as I lodged a finger just inside her anus. I teased her lip with my tongue as I wiggled my finger. She gasped more sharply and I stuck my tongue roughly back in her mouth. My cock was very hard. I really wanted to give her a good fucking. I wanted to see an honest, unmediated response from her. And, if I was honest, I knew that I wanted to shut her up, show her who was boss, fuck her into a submission I wasn't going to even try to pull over some bullshit row about emptying the bin. I needed to get my pants off but knew that if I let go of her she'd withdraw, even though she'd started kissing me back. I pulled my finger from out of her arse. She groaned in frustration. I pushed her down onto the table as I fumbled with my pants, freeing my cock with one hand as I pushed her skirt up onto her back. My cock was drooling, angry red. Holding the lacy strap of her panties to one side I shoved my erection against the slit of her cunt and pushed hard. My thumb was strumming the hood of her clit through the wet lace.
She cried out, her desire rising to discharge her anger. She gasped in relief at the intimacy of our contact, and I moaned with her, relishing the release of tension. I felt her urgently pushing back against me as my cock filled her cunt. I grabbed her left tit, gripping it firmly, enjoying the weight of it in my hand. Her internal muscles relaxed around my shaft and I felt movement as I penetrated her more deeply. I held my cock still, enjoying the warmth, the closeness, the pulsing of our bodies. Her whining, carping, my emotional distance, were momentarily forgotten. I started fucking her and she moved with me, making comfortable sighs in time with my thrusts. She got into it and her movements became stronger than mine. I slowed, letting her do the fucking. It felt blissful for her to express herself so uncomplicatedly.
'Oh yeah. Baby. Fuck it.' I groaned as she ground her fleshy buttocks onto to dick. I was pushing my thumb against her clit very hard as she came, panting and yelping. The speed with which she'd reached her climax took me by surprise. Her cunt clamped down on my girth in tight spasms and I made several hard thrusts up her to get me over the edge. I felt her legs shaking as I pumped her full of sperm.
She looked small, but resolute, as later she padded into the bedroom, damply wrapped in her robe. I was lying on top of the covers, plucking at the hairs on my belly. We seemed to be finding it difficult to look each other in the eye.
'Tim. I can't do this.' She sat in the chair in the corner. I felt a surge of affection for her, but knew it was too late.
'I know. Neither can I.' I heard her sigh.
'I thought it was the not having sex, but actually we're still good at that,' She looked up and we smiled at one another, 'it's everything else, isn't it? I can feel myself nagging like an old woman, but I don't know how else to talk to you. You're emotionally unavailable; I don't feel taken care of.' Her voice had developed an edge, and I felt my anger rising.
'And you're too damn passive, always bloody well abdicating responsibility.' I spoke quickly and the harshness of my words shocked me. She looked like I'd slapped her and I knew that something was broken between us.
I'd changed the rules, no longer enjoyed just being her man, being in charge. I'd withdrawn something profound from her, and I remembered our first days together, how excited she was by my manliness, by my bold expressions of possession; cradling her in bed, holding her hand in the street, cupping her gorgeous arse as I held open doors for her. I knew that I'd always been excited by how attracted she was to my size, my hairiness, my professional status and all its trappings. I loved introducing her to new social and cultural experiences, ordering food for her, buying bottles of wine that cost more than a new dress. And she had always loved my penis, liked looking at it, holding it; cupping it whenever she could get away with it, in the car, in restaurants. Loved getting fucked by it. She'd had three lovers before we'd met, and had always found my cock to be really big. I know I'm well above average, but jesus, what man wouldn't find it the biggest turn on to have a gorgeous woman tell you that she found your dick to be huge?
We agreed that she'd move out, back into her old flat in Docklands. We promised we'd not give up on each other, that we'd meet up each week for dinner. I was sceptical, but I also knew how much I cared about her, how much I had once enjoyed sharing my thoughts with her. It took us a week or so to get ourselves sorted out and then she was gone.
My first night alone was fucking miserable. I drank far too many beers and passed out on the sofa, after listening to Randy Newman over and over on the Linn.
I hadn't spoken to Tom since he'd fucked me in my office, just needed to nurse my hurt self-indulgently. I was vaguely aware of how unhealthy my behaviour was, but I also knew I wasn't ready to acknowledge what had happened and why.
By the third night the beer just tasted like bitterness and the Newman, Cohen and the rest just sounded like sad twats. On the way home from work, after having spoken to Emma, as I had every night, us both trying for affection and compromising on vague pleasantry, I'd stopped at Waitrose and spent a fortune on organic veg and decent ready meals. At home I set some foil trays in the oven and some pans simmering before I went upstairs and luxuriated under the shower, anticipating my virtue and that night's episode of 'ER'. I'd always enjoyed my own company; the cleaner had been that day and the house felt warm and comforting. I could feel my mood lifting.
I was standing with my arms braced against the tiles, water scalding my shoulders and back, when I heard the door bell.
I opened the front door, dripping, towel slung round my waist, to find Jude grinning at me, bottle of bubbly in one hand, and a huge bunch of flowers in the other.
'Have you wallowed enough, handsome?' His grin sparkled, his charm was, as ever, irresistible.
I shut the front door behind him. 'How the hell did you know?'
'Babes, me and Emma have become proper girlfriends. I've had her on the phone every night for the last fortnight. She, unlike you, is not ashamed of her feelings.'
'Yeah yeah. And I sure she'd been regaling you with stories of my irredeemable blokishness?'
'Tim.' His voice was more serious. 'She's really worried about you. And so am I.'
He took me in his arms and held me tight. It felt oddly familiar to be held by someone smaller, slighter than me, but his strength and firmness were reassuring. I felt supported, trusting, and suddenly I was sobbing into his shoulder. My pain felt incoherent, yet its release was blissful. Jude stroked my hair and made affirming noises as I sobbed out all my confusion and anguish.
I don't know how long we stood there, but I was vaguely aware of being cold as he cupped by face and kissed away my tears. Then we were kissing, wet, deep, sensuous explorations that had our mingled saliva dripping off our chins. I breathed in Jude's smell, immaculately groomed scents laid over the musky, sweaty maleness that became more prominent as our passion rose. At some point I'd lost my towel and now I found myself rubbing my bare skin against Jude's clothed body.
'I've got something to show you, Tim.' He pushed down on my shoulders and I dropped to my knees, my face in his crotch, breathing him in through the fabric of his trousers. I could feel his hardness jumping inside. I opened his flies and pulled down his pants. He'd had his cock pierced.
Jude's penis tapers towards the head, and his foreskin fully retracts behind the corona. Compared to Tom's cock I had always thought it to be rather modest, but now, hot and hard in my hands, I realised that it was only slightly shorter than my own, and almost as thick, except for the end which was slender, almost pointed. There, passing through his urethra and then out underneath his glans was a fairly thick ring with a ball on it. I'd heard about cock piercings before, but I'd never seen one, certainly not on a hard cock thrust in my face. It was beautiful. I took his salty penis in my mouth and rolled it around my tongue. The ring felt large in my mouth and banged against my teeth. Jude's groans were strong as the ring moved through the end of his cock. The contrast between warm, yielding, but firm, skin and smooth, cool steel was delicious. I tugged off his pants and threw his shoes behind me until he was as naked as me.
I knew that my cock-sucking technique was fairly crude, but my enthusiasm more than made up for my lack of co-ordination. Jude gasped from time to time as my teeth caught his shaft, but his groans as he fucked my face were deep. I looked up and saw that he'd removed his shirt and was flicking his big dark nipples. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back. The ring moved smoothly in my throat. It felt kinky, and I was aware that it had helped to change the way I felt about Jude. Although he'd fucked me before Tom had, I'd never really responded to Jude in the knee-weakening way that I did with his boyfriend. Jude was appealing to look at, and we'd shared a lot of fun, but it had always been mediated through Tom's sexuality. It was my need to be subject to Tom, to his authority, that turned me on; I'd never found Jude's sexual energy arousing. But here he was with his pierced dick in my throat fucking my face. I was very aware of his cock, of his will, his demand to be pleasured, and it felt arousing. I could tell he wasn't far from cumming and I wanted to feel his sperm pumping into my mouth; I wanted to taste its bitter saltiness, its warmth. The physicality of Jude's maleness and the sense of driven ego with which he was seeking his satisfaction made a thrilling contrast to my existing impressions of him. Jude was boyish, almost puppyish in his big-eyed, floppy-haired prettiness. Yet I'd seen him pursuing sexual extremities, demonstrating a potent kind of abandon with Tom. I remembered how we'd bonded over how much we enjoyed being fucked by Tom. I loved the idea that this horny, gymn bunny thrusting his cock down my throat, grunting in passion above me loved getting fucked as I did. Loved the obscenity of being stuffed with hard knob, begged for it.
I nearly choked when Jude came in my mouth. There was so much cum it overflowed onto my chin, sticky and warm. I kept moving my tongue over his cock and its ring as he softened in my mouth. His hands felt heavy yet gentle in my hair. I revelled in my filth, face smeared with cum, spit, tongue tasting saltiness of sperm, piss, sweat, cock cheese. My nose was full of his pubes, musky and prickly. I felt my own cock softening and continued to suck on Jude's. There was something child-like and primal about it, milking his softening penis.
I heard him sigh loudly above me as my mouth filled with warm, bitter piss. I groaned deeply as I swallowed, not enough, enjoying the grossness of it running over my chin onto my chest and the kitchen floor around me. I felt the strength of his stream on the back of my throat and understood the maleness of him, probably for the first time.
When he'd finished using my mouth as a toilet, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me with such passion it was like he wanted to taste himself on me. His hand was in my crotch, cupping my cock and balls. He moaned into my mouth.
'Tim. Let go. Let go.' His whisper was full of longing and curiosity.
I felt so trusting, so safe in our mutual understanding, that I did let go. Only a few drops at first, and then, as I felt the warmth of the piss on my legs I fully relaxed and Jude was smearing it over my belly and balls, all the time sucking on my tongue, wetly probing and breathing heavily into my mouth. As the stream dried up his hand was massaging back between my legs, up into my buttocks. I parted my legs, feet wet in the puddle of our piss.
'Oh yeah.' He breathed into my mouth as his fingers found my hole. I pushed myself onto his hand and felt my cock rising. I could smell piss and cum enveloping us in a cloud of dirty, kinky, maleness. Jude turned to the counter behind him and gouged a dollop of butter out of the dish with his pissy hands and then smeared it around my hole. The inner contact felt wonderful. He pushed me down with one hand as he smeared butter on his hard cock with the other, breathing hard. I knelt in the cold, smelly piss as Jude guided his pierced cock between my asslips. When he'd got the position right he slid his hard dick fully inside in one rough, slick, movement. His greasy, piss-damp hands dug painfully into my shoulders as he rabbit-fucked me, his speed and ferocity were overwhelming. His feet were by my knees, whilst he crouched over me with his knees bent round my torso. I had to brace myself hard against his body weight and the violence of his pumping. I was dimly aware of the guttural noises we were making, my pleadings, his cursing, but mainly all I knew was the friction of his penis inside me.
I hadn't cum earlier, despite the excitement of sucking him and swallowing his spunk and piss. Jude moved his hands down to the tops of my thighs and pulled them back towards him until I was fully lying in the piss, my face pressed into it, my hard cock rubbing the tiles as my body jerked against his movement. He curled his arms under my shoulders and I felt the sticky probing of his tongue and the roaring of his breath in my ear. Jude cried out as he felt my arse clamping around his cock as I started to cum. My sperm mingled with our piss as I ground my loins into the floor. I felt a savage thrust inside me and then Jude was coming too. I twisted my head in the piss and we managed to kiss as my orgasm ebbed, and then we were laughing.
We stank of piss, which was matting the hairs on my legs and chest, and dripping down my jaw. Our bodies were shaking with the violence of our laugher, and when his softening penis slipped out of me we howled, entwined together in our filth. I could feel tears coursing down my cheeks, and my ribs ached, but I couldn't stop. Every time I looked up and saw Jude's handsome face, smeared with butter, piss and cum, his usually immaculately manicured hair matted with our filth, a new spasm of laughter gripped me. He held me tight towards him as we sat on the floor, and I felt his fingers possessively pushing into my hole. I put my head on his shoulder, and as the last waves of giggles eased, I sighed, contentedly.
The following week Tom and I had sex several times, and each time I felt a bigger shit. After my time with Jude I felt more loving and responsible towards him. Fucking his boyfriend behind his back made me feel lousy, and in the end things came to a head. But in the meantime, I couldn't help myself. With Jude's encouragement I'd finally found the nerve to tell Emma about coming to terms with my bisexuality. I told her that I'd fooled around with Tom and Jude and that I was confused. I think Jude had already told her something, because she was more supportive, and less outraged that I'd imagined she'd be. I almost got the impression she was curious about what had happened.
It was only two days after I'd seen Jude that Tom came to my office again. Thankfully Marie had the afternoon off, although this meant that I was busier than ever, as I had no buffer between me and the endless incoming queries that always distract me from what I really need to be getting on with. When Tom closed my office door behind him and I saw the look on his face, I couldn't help feel a burst of excitement, but I also felt frustrated. I didn't have the time or inclination today to indulge either of us by playing at being his bitch.
'Hi Tom. Look I'm really busy today. Can we take a rain check?' I was trying for a sense of assertiveness, but I couldn't help but keep the conciliatory tone out of my voice. I really didn't have time then, but I also couldn't help myself. I wanted him too badly and the idea that he wouldn't come and play with me any more terrified me.
He didn't say anything, but walked round to my side of the desk and leaned over me. I could feel his breath on my cheek as he put one of his big meaty hands in my crotch and grabbed my balls through my suit.
'You're being a very naughty boy.' His voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. I may have been in my forties, but being called a boy made my dick pulse, despite having my balls grabbed and twisted. He wasn't hurting me, but he wasn't fooling around either.
I started to tell him how much work I had to do but he cut me off by twisting my nuts firmly. I cried out and tried to pull away from him but he twisted harder. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I could sense that my resistance was turning him on, if only because he knew that it was meaningless, that I would inevitably capitulate.
'You're going to have to be punished. I can see I've not been taking proper care of you.' If his words were turning me on, it was the slight grin that played at the corners of his broad, sensual mouth that brought me, willingly, into the game. I relaxed and he softened his grip on my scrotum.
'That's better - ' He started to smile, but I pushed him firmly away, twisting in my seat to get from behind the desk. I shuddered with a thrill of pleasure as I felt his weight fall on top of me and we rolled to the ground. I was winded and his arms were tightly around me. I tried to kick him off, but he'd got his hand down the front of my pants and I could feel the warmth of his skin against my cock and balls. He got a firm grip on my limp cock and pulled firmly; he didn't hurt me but I immediately stopped struggling against him. His hard, large body was pressed tightly against me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck and it made me shiver. My face felt flushed and the stillness of our bodies was charged with tension. Involuntarily I felt my cock hardening in his hand; he was still squeezing my member roughly, but his other hand had relaxed - I was just pinned by his body weight. I could feel his hardness on my hip.
'What have you got to say for yourself?' His voice was thick with lust, but his tone was firm. I wanted him very badly.
'Please.' I turned from my side onto my belly, grinding my cock into his hand, wriggling my bottom in his crotch.
'Please, what? What do you want?' His tone was intimate, coaxing, but determined.
'Please. Use me.'
'Use you how?' His voice was rough, and he tugged hard on my stiff dick, causing me to gasp in shock and pain.
'Oh god, Tom. Please. Fuck me.'
'So. Straight boy needs a good shag?' He was coaxing again.
'Yes. I need your dick in me.'
'You dirty bastard. But, I think you've been a bit too naughty for that.' I felt his weight withdrawing, and he pulled me up with him by my cock. He sat in my chair, still grabbing me, hard.
'Take off your pants and lie across my lap and ask me to spank you like a naughty boy.'
Part of me may have felt self-conscious and foolish, but I was too turned on to care. I dropped my pants, easing them over his hand and my hard-on. I knelt down, and he let go of my cock as I lay my torso across his lap and lifted my bottom to meet his left hand. His touch was warm and dry as he moved his hand across my hairy skin.
'Say it.'
'Please.'
'Please, what?'
'Spank me.'
I could feel him watching as he lifted his hand and brought it down hard on my buttock. I cried out, more surprised than hurt; the warmth felt good, and even better when he smacked me again. The third time stung but the warmth was making me writhe. My dick was very hard. By the sixth smack I was really in pain and was trying to move away from his remorseless hand. He stopped and caressed me, feeling the warmth of his hand and my arse.
'Do you want me to stop? Do you think you've had enough? Have you earned my cock yet?'
I knew what he wanted me to say, and I wanted to say it just to please him. I wanted to earn his desire. But I also felt naughty, like a wicked schoolboy, willingly debased by my powerlessness. My head was spinning, loving being subjugated by a fully clothed, self-confessed faggot, here in my own office, the centre of my status. I didn't want to ask him to stop, I wanted to be able to take what he was giving out, wanted to lose myself in his authority. I wanted him to take me, to take care of me, to hurt me and possess me and use me. I wanted his maleness, his big, hairy, firm body pressing against me, making me hot, making me cry out and beg.
'Hit me.'
He did. His blows were hard, getting harder. I knew that this was new territory for him too. The three of us had got into tussles before, but they'd always been cut short by our need to get on with the fucking. Now we were in a different game. Tom was discovering how much he liked hitting me as much as I was discovering how much I needed it. I felt erased, possessed, bruised.
I became aware that he was panting, gasping as he rained down smacks on my bare arse. I started to get a little alarmed as I realised he was getting out of control, that his blows were harder, more erratic, less controlled. Still I didn't move away from him, but my writhing was so energetic that he put his other hand on my neck to hold me in place.
Eventually my gasps and cries turned to sobs and then suddenly he stopped.
I could feel his body shuddering beneath me. With a cry of grief he pulled me up towards his chest and I knelt between his legs with my head on his shoulder. His hand cradled my throbbing buttock, fingers curling into my crack. His other hand moved up to smooth my hair.
'Oh baby. I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry I hurt you... Got carried away. You just looked so fucking amazing' He was still out of breath, and I knew that although he had shocked himself, he was very aroused.
'Did I?' My voice, normally deep and commanding, sounded small.
'Oh god.' He put his hands on either side of my head and looked into my eyes. His own were glittering with excitement. 'Sweetheart, you've got the most incredible arse I've ever seen. Watching you beg to be smacked was one of the most exciting things... I love - '
I started in his hands.
' - your maleness.' He saw the look on my face and smiled, gently, and with his eyes. 'And I love you, man.'
He kissed me and my sobs turned to groans into his open mouth as his hand found my crack again and he fingered me, gently but purposefully. My cock, which had shrivelled pitifully between my legs, starting lengthening and involuntarily I spread my legs to let him stick his fingers further up my arsehole.
In the past couple of months I'd had a lot of Tom's penis inside me (and a fair bit of Jude's too), but when he fucked me on the floor of my office that day, I'd never been taken by him so gently, with such love and care. We lay on our sides, with his top knee inside mine, his arms wrapped tightly round my chest, thumbs slowly flicking my nipples. Tom's penis was deeply embedded in my rectum, it's thickness pushing against my prostate as he slowly shagged me. I felt so peaceful impaled on his meat; my cock, which was bobbing against my belly was drooling pre-cum onto the floor. The carpet was chafing my hip painfully as I rocked against Tom's long slow thrusts.
I didn't know where my life was going but the man who knew me best in the world, who'd stuck by me and loved me and understood me, was here making love to me and it felt like home. I was moaning constantly, and Tom was making soft, slack sounds into my neck. I knew he was feeling as overwhelmed by our fucking as I was. There was a gentle, soft care between us that made my chest feel tight and full.
Tom lifted my leg high and ducked under it, keeping the end of his donkey-sized member inside me. Neither of us could have tolerated having that internal contact broken, and we moved together gently, protecting that precious intimacy. I wriggled my bottom into his lap, humping myself down onto him, and wrapped my legs round his waist. He bent his legs, pushing me further up onto my back, and leaned his face down into mine. As he pushed his awesome penis fully up my arse our tongues met and I sucked him greedily into my mouth. He was watching my face intently, measuring the pleasure he found there. His gaze made me feel deliciously possessed. He withdrew his cock slowly, and shoved it back up me strongly. I cried out at the intensity of the force, the gross friction, and he responded to my pleasure with a groan of deep satisfaction. My cock jumped on my slack belly; I loved how excited he was by my pleasure in his taking of me.
We fucked like that for a long time, moving together in a thrilling harmony, our sweat matting together on each other's hairy bodies, our saliva mingling in each other's soft mouths and on our stubbly chins. My arsehole felt wide and slack around his fat, slick cock, and let out a wet fart from time to time. He was holding my right hand in his over my head, our fingers were entwined, gripping each other in time to the ecstatic rhythm of our loins.
When my orgasm hit me I tossed my head from side to side as Tom urged me onward, speeding his thrusts up my arse. Neither of us was touching my cock, which shot spunk over my shoulder.
'Oh yeah baby. Ride that fucker. Cum for me, Tim. Oh yes.' I was intensely aware of Tom's attention, of his almost voyeuristic enjoyment of my pleasure. I wriggled and humped on his thickness as my cock pumped the last drops onto my rounded tummy.
The clamping of my sphincter did it for him. As my orgasm ebbed, his eyes closed and he clenched his face tightly. He pushed his cock hard inside me, tensed on the brink. Then he exhaled, and his whole body was released from its tautness, he flooded my rectum with his warm sperm. He clutched me to him tightly, almost as if he wanted to tuck me inside his broad, hairy chest.
We lay together for a long time afterwards. He was still inside me, and I could feel his stickiness oozing in my crack as his huge cock softened. We didn't say anything, but he was still gazing deeply into my eyes as he absently stroked my arms, my thighs, and the side of my face.
We couldn't see each other the following day, but the day after that I couldn't stand missing him any longer, and Tom and I met at his flat. We both managed to get away from work a bit early, and Jude wasn't due for another hour. We didn't have long, there wasn't time for talk. It'd been hard not to see each other since the session in my office. My feelings for Tom were stronger than ever, but I also knew how much I cared for Jude and needed us to sort it all out. I felt guilty, excited, and scared. I didn't want to lose them.
Tom was frantic to get inside me. We'd barely got through the front door before he'd got his cock out. It was already enormously erect, and bobbed obscenely as he turned me round in the hallway and pulled my pants down to my thighs. He bent me over towards the wall and starting probing my crack with the end of his knob. Thankfully he'd got a sachet of lube in his pocket - he was in such a hurry I'm sure he'd have tried to dick me dry. His cock felt as delicious as ever inside me, but he was rushing and I felt confused and taken for granted. I grunted as he jerked his penis inside too roughly. My cock was soft. This wasn't how I wanted it to be. After our tender love making of two days ago I felt violated, and not in an exciting way.
He came quickly and pulled out. He was wiping off his sticky dick with a Kleenex when I turned round, looking for a cuddle. He didn't look up from his ministrations as he absently asked me if I'd cum.
'Tom, I really think we need to talk. Something happened between us the other day. Jesus! Something amazing's happening between us, and I feel awful about Jude. We need to think about what to do.'
'What the hell are you talking about? We're not going to do anything.'
'For god's sake, Tom, I can't keep doing this behind Jude's back. I love you.' I reached towards him, making to touch his cheek. He stepped back as though I was about to slap him.
'Love me? Like you loved Emma? Look Tim, don't get carried away. I'm with Jude. I've asked him to give up his flat and move in with me full time. I was going to say that I think we need to pull back on the extra-curricular activity for a while. We've had fun, but I think I need to concentrate on Jude for a while.'
I didn't recognise the man in front of me who looked like my best friend. He wouldn't meet my eye. He shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting as he straightened his clothing, rubbed his hands to get the lube smell off them. I'd never seen him look shifty. He was always so calm and centred, modestly self-assured. Now he looked like a frantically procrastinating used car salesman. I felt like he'd punched me in the stomach. A tide of disgust and anger passed through me, and I felt humiliated and abused with my trousers round my knees and his spunk and the lube he'd fucked me with running down my legs.
I couldn't look at him as I pulled up my trousers and underwear, uncomfortably squirming against their wetness as they smeared the fluids matting in my body hair. I moved towards the door.
'Tim. I'm sorry - ' He stepped forwards, putting himself in front of me. I didn't want to hear it. I was too distraught to know what to say. I shoved him hard, catching him off balance. He lost his footing and banged into the wall beside the front door. He recovered and stepped forward again.
'Tim!' he was addressing an unreasonable child.
I punched him in the face and felt a pang of satisfaction as his nose gave way under my fist. Blood was spurting down his face as I opened the door and left him.
By the time I got to my car I was shaking so badly I felt ill. My stomach heaved, but nothing came up and I was wracked by spasms of dry retching beside the car.
I was bereft. In the last few weeks I'd lost my girlfriend, realised I was in love, probably with two different men - who just happened to be in love with each other - and now I probably had no hope of finding happiness with either of them. Worst of all I had been rejected by my best friend. Tom had known me longer than anyone other than my parents. He had held my head countless times as I threw up. He'd stood at my back in bar brawls. He was the man who had put his arm round my shoulder at my father's funeral and soothed me as I sobbed. He had made love to me on my office floor.
I needed comfort. I couldn't be alone right now. I needed uncomplicated warmth, and I didn't want to ask for it. I needed to be with someone to whom I mattered. I pointed the Saab towards Docklands and Emma's flat.
I'd still got a key to her place from our early days together before she'd moved in with me. I'd offered to give it back to her recently, but she'd asked me to keep it. It was a symbolic gesture in keeping with our attempts to maintain contact and closeness, and I think it made her feel safe to know that we still had a domestic connection.
She wasn't there when I arrived, so I let myself in. Her flat was small, with a reasonable sized living room overlooking the water. A small vestibule at the back led to the two small bedrooms and the bathroom. Emma's immaculate taste was evident everywhere, and the flat felt cosy. I knew I'd come to the right place. I sloshed a generous measure of scotch into a glass and headed towards the back of the flat. I didn't feel comfortable making myself at home in her bedroom - somehow it would have been an invasion of her privacy. Thankfully the spare room was made up. I dumped my clothes on the floor and snuggled under the duvet. I couldn't even face drinking the scotch. I turned over, and hugging my knees to my chest, I abandoned myself to oblivion.
I was bereft. In the last few weeks I'd lost my girlfriend, realised I was in love, probably with two different men - who just happened to be in love with each other - and now I probably had no hope of finding happiness with either of them. Worst of all I had been rejected by my best friend. Tom had known me longer than anyone other than my parents. He had held my head countless times as I threw up. He'd stood at my back in bar brawls. He was the man who had put his arm round my shoulder at my father's funeral and soothed me as I sobbed. He had made love to me on the floor of my office. I needed comfort. I couldn't be alone right now. I needed uncomplicated warmth, and I didn't want to ask for it. I needed to be with someone to whom I mattered. I pointed the Saab towards Docklands and Emma's flat. I'd still got a key to her place from our early days together before she'd moved in with me. I'd offered to give it back to her recently, but she'd asked me to keep it. It was a symbolic gesture in keeping with our attempts to maintain contact and closeness, and I think it made her feel safe to know that we still had a domestic connection.
She wasn't there when I arrived, so I let myself in. Her flat was small, with a reasonable sized living room overlooking the water. A small vestibule at the back led to the two small bedrooms and the bathroom. Emma's immaculate taste was evident everywhere, and the flat felt cosy. I knew I'd come to the right place. I sloshed a generous measure of scotch into a glass and headed towards the back of the flat. I didn't feel comfortable making myself at home in her bedroom - somehow it would have been an invasion of her privacy. Thankfully the spare room was made up. I dumped my clothes on the floor and snuggled under the duvet. I couldn't even face drinking the scotch. I turned over, and hugging my knees to my chest, I abandoned myself to oblivion. I don't know how long I slept, but I awoke feeling groggy and disorientated, and the room was dark around me. At first I didn't know where I was, but I'd pulled a sense of dread with me into consciousness, that made me feel uneasy about my dreams. There was a slit of light showing under the door. I needed to piss really badly, so, sleep-drunk, I crawled out of bed and shuffled to the door. I opened it to be dazzled by the light that blazed in the vestibule. Ahead of me was the door into the living room, to the right, Emma's bedroom, and to the left, the bathroom.
I presumed Emma must be in bed, so I cautiously aimed the stream of piss onto the side of the toilet bowl. I looked down at my penis. It was just the soft side of erect, heavy, with the foreskin partially retracted, the glans moistly poking out. It felt comforting in my hand. I shook the last drops off the end and stepped to the side and stood in front of the floor length mirror beside the bath. I hadn't turned on the light, but the Dockside area was never dark and soft light was coming in through the window. I took stock of what I saw. This was what a bisexual man looked like. I was tall - over six feet - and broad in the shoulders and chest. In the last few years I'd broadened across the waist. I put my hand on my soft tummy and caressed the hairs there. I turned to the side and peered back at my arse. I tried to see what Tom liked in it. It was pretty big, as were my thighs.
Years of rugby had made the best of what I'd been born with, and thankfully the slackness in my stomach hadn't crept any lower; my bottom was still pretty taught, my thighs hard. I put my hands on my hairy buttocks; they filled my hands, round and heavy. I was enjoying looking at myself, taking stock, realising I still had it, would need it if I was ever going to find another man to shag me. My eyes closed as I thought of Tom. However angry I was, I knew how stupid we'd both been, and more than anything I already missed him very badly. What surprised me was that I also missed Jude. I thought of his gorgeous puppy dog smile and my guts twisted in pain to imagine what he'd think of me now. I was sure that Tom would tell him what we'd done - I didn't know how else he was going to explain his broken nose. I remembered his lovely pierced dick and him fucking me in a pool of my own piss on my kitchen floor. Jude was fun; he always seemed to be open to taking the most pleasure from every moment.
Having sex with him had been energising, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed so much with a lover. But as I thought about them I realised that underneath all that, I was also feeling resentful and bitter. They had each other, they'd got it all sorted out; they'd used me, woken me from a sexual slumber, they'd enjoyed me, taken me to a submissive, powerless place, and dumped me. I had a sudden, violent image of me fucking Tom, raping him, over-powering him, shoving him down and slamming him, hearing him moan and scream and sob as I had done so many times with his cock in me. I felt my dick stiffen and thought of Emma, of how much she'd enjoyed me taking her up the arse, of how virile and masculine I had felt with her. I remembered her look of confusion the first time I'd buggered her as she'd tried to make sense of the obscene pleasure that was overwhelming her. I started skinning my cock, relishing its thickness in my hand, and realised I wanted Emma, needed her to want me inside her. I opened the bathroom door. The hallway was now in darkness, which was odd, until I saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, and light was coming from within. She must have come to bed since I'd been in the bathroom - god knows how long I'd been in there feeling sorry for myself.
As I stepped towards her doorway I heard muffled sounds, and then a man's voice groan. I felt a rush of excitement and anger as I tried to look round the door. The lamp at the side of the bed cast a pool of golden light over most of the bed. Emma was being fucked on her side by a tall, slim guy with very dark hair. He'd got her in one of those athletic-looking positions that obviously made him feel like he was in charge. He was banging away with gusto. Emma looked bored. One of her legs was pinned uncomfortably around his shoulder, the other he was holding up round his waist. She was propping her head on her right hand, and with the other she was absently stroking her clit. In between thrusts he was keeping up a constant stream of porno-speak:
'Oh your pussy feels so good.' 'You love that cock, don't you?' 'Yeah baby, tighten that pussy.' 'You fucking slut, you love it.' 'God your tits are amazing.' He didn't sound like he was turning himself on, never mind her. His engagement with her body, with her experience of the fucking, was pretty non-existent. He was playing out a scene; he obviously thought he was impressing her with his patter, his energy and athleticism, but she looked like she wanted to turn the TV on. His hips were pretty slender, and his body was almost hairless, which made his dark bush look stark and exciting. His cock didn't look especially thick, but from the length of his strokes, it was obviously fairly long. He was handsome, in a kind of off-the-shelf kind of way.
You saw thousands of these young white-collar drones milling around Docklands and the City. Sharp suits, trendy hair cuts, cocky 'tude; on the way up and loving it, imagination locked on getting promoted, a better flat, a girl with bigger tits, an Audi TT. Their ambition was like a veneer, shiny, obvious, superficially attractive. This one was better looking than most, but that didn't surprise me; after all, Emma was stunning. As I watched he hauled her body on the bed, bouncing her uncomfortably into another Olympian position before resuming his regular, rapid, pumping. Emma looked like she'd lost weight, and it didn't suit her. I'd always loved her fleshiness; she was a size 16 and carried it with poise and self-confidence. Now her spectacular tits looked bigger than ever against her slim waist, but she didn't look happy.
She groaned in discomfort as he threw her legs back over her head and stood up on the bed. He dick slipped out of her as he moved. It was long and pretty thin, but with a bizarrely plum-shaped head that was covered in the froth of their juices. He crammed his penis back in her and resumed his rhythm, pistoning down on her body. At that angle I knew that she wouldn't have been getting much out of it. She couldn't even reach her own clitoris and his cock would have been nowhere near the G spot at the back of her cunt. As I watched he threw his head back and started playing with his nipples, balancing his thighs on her buttocks. I don't even think he was aware himself of how unexcited he was. At the rate he was fucking you'd have thought he would be cumming by now, but he looked miles off. He reminded me of men at the gym doing reps, totally unaware of anything other than how they looked and how many circuits they'd done; constantly competing against an ideal notion of who they thought they should be.
However an inept lover Emma's shag might have been, I was nevertheless quite excited watching them. He was pretty good looking; she was stunning, and everything I'd seen validated my own prowess in a way that made my dick throb and salved my battered ego. He pulled her down with him and knelt between her legs, pulling them ridiculously wide. His rhythm barely varied. I could tell that Emma just wanted him to cum and get his weird-shaped penis out of her. Cupping his pale, smooth arse cheeks, I could see her pushing a finger into his arsehole. I knew that she was trying to bring him off more quickly. She'd done it to me from time to time - it was, after all, a trick I'd taught her.
'Oh Jesus!' he shuddered violently as she stuffed two fingers up his slender arse and fucked him with them. With her other hand she was frigging herself like crazy. She had become much more interested in him, and was watching his face closely as she fingered him. His eyes were closed and the naff patter had stopped. He was feeling something; his strokes were slower but stronger. He dropped her legs, allowing her to get more comfortable, and, coincidentally, further up his arse. He lay down on top of her with his face screwed up tight; he was going to cum. My cock was very hard, my breath ragged. He cried out in surprise as his orgasm hit him. Emma was violently humping herself on him and I knew that she was cumming too. I wanted to look after her. She deserved her orgasm: she'd worked bloody hard for it. He'd barely stopped moving when I pushed open the door and stood with my arms folded, leaning against the frame. My cock had dropped, but was still engorged and impressive as I stood there with a shit-eating grin on my face.
'I don't think we've met.' I was affecting a Cary Grant drawl.
'What the fuck - ' He started badly, shoving Emma away as he attempted to put his hands in front of his withering dick.
'Tim! Jesus! What are you doing here?' Emma was taken aback, but clearly not that displeased to see me, given that I'd caught her shagging. She couldn't disguise the glint of pleasure in her eye at seeing me, particularly as I had no clothes on.
'Who the fuck are you?' He'd remembered that he was supposed to be tough, and was trying to adopt a pose of manful authority.
'I'm the boyfriend of the woman who's just had half her hand up your arse.' Whatever resistance he thought he was going to mount was over. He dropped his gaze, blushing fiercely. We all might have been naked, but it was always bad manners to sleep with another man's girl. And it was never manly and virile to enjoy having anything up your bum; the idea that I'd seen what had happened wasn't something he could deal with. Emma had got off the bed and padded towards me. She put her arms round my neck.
'Tim, you are naughty to interrupt us. But it's good to see you, looking, erm, so well.' She smiled, dipping her gaze to my distended penis. I kissed her lightly on the mouth.
'I spoke to Jude earlier. He told me that you've fallen out with Tom. Are you okay?'
'Much better for seeing you, Em.' I kissed her properly this time, and she responded. We'd both forgotten the man on the bed, until he coughed, rather nervously. I broke our kiss, and asked Emma,
'Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?'
'Look,' he said, 'I'm obviously intruding on something, I'll leave you alone.'
'Don't leave on my account.' I said, nuzzling Emma's neck. I kissed her bare skin and murmured in her ear,
'Maybe we could teach him some valuable lessons?' She pulled back from me, her eyes glittering, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her mouth. I knew that she loved gay men, had always had lots of queer friends, and that her and Jude had become pretty inseparable. When we'd talked about my being bisexual, I'd suspected that her attraction to gay guys went beyond an appreciation of their apparent sensitivity and great quiche recipes.
'Jason, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Tim. Tim, this is Jason. We work together.'
'Pleased to meet you Jason.' I strode towards him, my cock thickly slapping between my thighs. He took his eyes off it long enough to grasp the hand I was offering him and we shook. I was really enjoying myself. I felt fully in control of the situation. Whatever crap Emma and I were going through, there was enough love and care between us that my position was secure. There'd been a new understanding between us when we'd spoken since I'd come out to her.
This man-boy, with his shrivelled cock and his as-yet unrecognised liking for having his bum-hole played with, was no match for me in any way. I needed this. I put my arm round Emma and dipped my head towards her right tit, teasing her nipple with the end of my tongue for a while before gently sucking it into my mouth as I stroked her heavy breast. She groaned softly and put her hands in my hair. With my other hand I reached between her legs and gently stroked her outer lips; they were still wet with Jason's cum and her juices. I pushed my finger into the sticky interior of her cunt. I felt my cock lift off my thigh and stiffly push itself away from my body. I lifted my head from her breast and looked at Jason as I licked his cum off my fingers. He dragged his gaze from my cock and his jaw dropped as he saw what I was doing.
'Shall we play?' I grinned at him. He looked like a rabbit trapped in headlights. His own cock was lengthening nicely. I felt sorry for him. He wanted to play, with both of us, but his limited, laddish brain was telling him that a threesome with another man was gay. But he was no match for Emma. She put her hand between her legs, bending her knees to give him a good view as she fingered herself deeply. Then she held out her hand to him. Like a man coming out of a dream, he leant forward and licked the stickiness from her fingers. Again I put my fingers to her pussy and then held them out to him. We were seducing him. I could almost see him assessing whether he could get away with having sex with us without his mates finding out. He took my fingers into his mouth and sucked his cum off them.
Emma giggled lasciviously and I knew we had him. We were going to have fun. Jason buried his face in Emma's cunt, lapping and sucking excitedly.
'Easy tiger.' She giggled, and turned to kiss me fully. As his tongue probed her more seriously she groaned into my mouth and pushed her tongue fiercely down my throat. When she came up for air a wicked smile played on her lips. There was a cockiness and confidence about her that satisfied me deeply. She winked at me, and put her hand on Jason's head. He was still buried in her pussy. I caught my breath as she moved his head towards my crotch.
'Be a good boy, Jason, and you'll get rewarded.' He looked up at her, his face a model of confusion and excitement. I exhaled, my breath coming in a long sigh as he faced my erect penis. He was mesmerised by it. I could feel his ragged breath on my exposed, wet glans and I shuddered. He glanced at Emma again; her hand was in her crotch. He'd obviously never been so close to another man's erection. He turned back to my cock and opened his mouth and then I was enveloped in warm softness.
'Oh yes.' Emma gasped, watching Jason take my thick penis between his lips. He licked my head like it was a lollipop before sucking it enthusiastically. I was very aroused; I must have been flooding his mouth with pre-cum. I moved my hand down to Emma's bottom and slipped my fingers into her crack. I gently rubbed her anus and she groaned. She turned to me and put her head on my chest, fingering my hairs before whispering.
'Tim. Do you want to fuck my arse?' Jason's ministrations were making it difficult for me to breath. 'Darling... I would love to... Put my cock up your. Arse.' I gently eased my penis out of his mouth. It was very hard, and emerged red and wet. I walked over to the bedside cabinet and took a tube of lube from the top drawer.
'Jason, why don't you lie on the bed, and let Emma take a seat?' She looked at me quizzically but I smiled at her solicitously and put my hand on her arse. I think she had a pretty good idea what I had in mind. She took his hand and led him to the bed. His cock was bouncing in front of him and he looked like he'd been let loose in a sweet shop after hours. I couldn't help smiling. He had no idea what he was letting himself in for. Emma was game, practically gagging for some kink, and I wasn't going to disappoint her. She pushed him down on the bed and straddled him. He cried out as she sank herself down on his slender meat, his head rearing up off the pillow. She wriggled around on him, her legs obscenely spread as she presented her arse to me. Any doubts I had about her knowing what I had in mind were deliciously dispelled. I walked towards them and grabbed Jason's legs and pulled him down the bed. His eyes were wide, but I ignored him until his hips were on the edge, his feet on the floor. His confused, handsome face looked so appealing smeared with my pre-cum and his saliva. Emma was balanced on his torso with his hands on her hips. I stepped between his knees and crouched a little. I could see her cunt lips distended around his shaft as I lubed up my cock.
'Oh Jesus!' Jason looked like he was about to burst into flames when he realised what I was doing, but he had the presence of mind to pull her buttocks apart. Emma was looking over her shoulder, smiling at me. I was going to fuck both of them. The head of my dick looked especially big against her anus, and above his much skinnier member. I felt powerful and aroused, but also calm and benevolent. Emma deserved to have her fantasies indulged. I nudged my glans against his cock and rubbed her crack with it before easing it into her arsehole. She dropped her head onto his chest, pushing her hips further up towards me. I felt him lift his loins to keep his cock in her pussy. I waited a few moments as her muscles relaxed and then pushed my shaft about halfway up her rectum. The heat coming off her was incredible. She was making deep, lusty groans into Jason's chest, absently rolling her head from side to side. I leant over her back and cupped her tits as I started fucking her. My hands were sandwiched between their slick, sweaty flesh, and over Emma's head I was face to face with the hapless Jason. His eyes were so wide they could have popped out of his head. I was making slow, strong thrusts up her arse. She was incredibly tight.
'Come on Jason,' I smiled at him, 'fuck her.' I urged him on, rocking their bodies beneath me until I felt him start humping up into her. His firm legs chafed mine as he braced his feet against the floor and I felt the stiff mass of his penis moving against the wall of her bowel. Emma was tripping out between us, pushing back against me, grunting and panting as we fucked her.
'Are you okay, baby? Does that feel good?' Her answer was incoherent, but definitely affirmative, as she groaned loudly, moving back against me. Jason was staring at her in disbelief. I wasn't surprised; having seen his earlier performance, he can't have been that used to seeing women lose it in ecstasy. I've seen a lot of porn featuring double penetrations of women - it's difficult to avoid them. They seem to have become a staple of het videos. I'd always been suspicious about the pleasures such scenes offered supposedly straight male audiences. The ludicrously contrived positions necessary to facilitate double fucking have always struck me as the closest two men can get to fucking each other, without actually fucking each other. Now I knew how impossible it was for two men to fuck a woman at the same time and not have a complete, and completely sexual, awareness of each other.
Almost as much of Jason's body was touching mine as Emma's was. My pleasure in being up her rectum was increased by the pressure of Jason's cock against mine inside Emma's body. My identification with her getting fucked was heightened by my recognition of his curiosity about what we were doing to her. And the turn on of subjugating her was, for me, much less acute than the pleasure of topping him. Because that's what I was doing - symbolically at least. And I knew before the night was over that I'd be doing it for real. I felt incredibly loving towards Emma. I felt proud of her for being so comfortable with her desires. I'd seen how bored she'd been by Jason's earlier attempts at pleasing her, by his complacent machismo.
I knew what it felt like to give yourself over to powerlessness, to let yourself be taken, and taken care of by people you trusted to take responsibility for your pleasure, your well-being. It made me sad that our last few weeks of living together had so undermined her, made her whiny and brittle. I'd withheld myself from her emotionally and she hadn't been able to cope. I'd imagined the truth of what I was going through would devastate her, but instead it seemed to make her more at ease with me; I wondered if she'd had bisexual inclinations of her own, and vowed to ask her about it and support her experimentations. We may not end up living together again, but I knew that there was something between us that was important and precious to us both. I could feel Emma's movements becoming more urgent beneath me, and the sounds she was making became more violent. She was straining against us, frantically managing the waves of sensation, and yet there was a wonderful slackness about her as she started cumming, panting hard, and letting out little high-pitched gasps. Her arms were stretched over Jason's head. His face looked slick and red with strands of her hair stuck to his skin. I stroked her back and softly caressed her tits as she came, murmuring soft words of encouragement to her. I was stunned by the length and intensity of her orgasm. As her shuddering eased, we stopped moving inside her, and she turned her head towards me, closing her eyes. I leaned into her and took her tongue in my mouth.
She was gently twisting her loins on our hard cocks as she kissed me with such tenderness that I felt my legs stagger and I clutched her slippery body to my chest. I slid my eyes past Emma's head to Jason. He was watching us with such intensity I wondered if he was okay. I put my hand on his leg and stoked him. He twitched at my touch, and then put his hands on Emma's hips, arching his cock up into her, as we gazed at one another. I was aware that neither Jason nor I had cum, but that our cocks were still rock hard. I gently withdrew my stiffness from her bowels, gasping as her sphincter tightened against the movement. As Emma and I continued to kiss I pulled her up into my arms, off Jason's penis, and turned her round to face me fully. His naked dick got momentarily pressed against my slack hairy belly, where it burned my skin, before it slapped back onto his body. Emma's arms were wrapped round my neck as I lifted her back onto Jason's torso; she straddled him with her back to his head and gently I removed her arms and slid her backwards until her bottom was in his face.
They got the idea and starting 69ing. She took his penis in her mouth and he parted her buttocks with his hands and leaned between them greedily. I watched them for a few minutes, skinning my dick, before I grasped his legs, lifting them off the floor and bending them back towards Emma. The look of satisfaction on her face was positively feline as she braced his thighs back with her elbows, presenting his arsehole towards me. I could see Jason's hairy balls drawn up tight to the base of his cock, and below them, a dark hairy line disappeared into his buttocks. Kneeling at the base of the bed, I leant into his body and licked his balls. At first he didn't realise what was happening, but then he raised his head and saw what I was doing. He flinched from my touch, but he didn't have anywhere to go with his cock down Emma's throat, and anyway, it was feeling too good for him to work that hard at resisting me. I started licking and sucking his balls in earnest, my face close to Emma's.
Her mouth was stretched reasonably wide around his slim cock, but her eyes were wider still as she watched what I was doing. Dipping my head lower I parted his buttocks and looked at his anus. I could smell the earthiness of him, the yeasty bitterness of his arse and the salty maleness of his sweat. His sphincter pulsed spasmodically, tickled by the warm movement of my breath. He was very aroused, his arselips slightly parted from the fingering he'd gotten earlier. I wondered if anyone had ever rimmed him before. I felt like I was inducting him into a thrilling fellowship, offering him pleasures unknown as yet in his tender years. He was full of youthful vigour and immaturity and it was very exciting. His sigh, muffled by Emma's rump, was full of shock and wonder as I pushed my squirming tongue against his anus. His arse hairs were prickly against my lips and nose and his smell strongly filled my nostrils, making my penis throb. The tight pucker pulsed against the point of my tongue before yielding and then I was licking the silky pinkness inside his rectum. Emma took Jason's penis out of her mouth so she could concentrate on my rimming him, and I could see that he'd dropped his head from her cunt back onto the bed. His eyes were closed and he was groaning like a girl. I had a sudden image from earlier of him fucking Emma, all posturing virility, and pushed my tongue into him as far as it would go, flattening it out and pumping him full of my saliva.
He tasted bitter and soft and male and good and I closed my eyes and anticipated shoving my big hard cock into his softness. He couldn't keep still with my tongue up his bum. He was writhing about the bed, pushing himself into my face. Emma had her hand round the base of his cock and it was rock hard, its oddly distended glans fatter than ever. He kept making a series of little gasped 'oh's, almost as though he was trying to keep from shouting out loud. I sympathised with him, but badly wanted to know what sounds would emanate from him with my dick rammed up his rectum. He was clearly enjoying himself, but wasn't ready, or able, to acknowledge it. In fact he looked completely spaced out, disorientated; horny but overwhelmed. I stood up between his legs and lined up my fat dick with his hole. He sensed the movement and looked up to see what I was doing. I pressed my glans against his open lips and he gasped loudly. Emma looked up at me. Her face was sheened in sweat.
'Oh yes, Tim. Fuck him. I want to see it.' The longing in her voice made my dick throb.
'Oh no. No.' He dropped his head back on the bed, eyes tightly shut. I pressed forward and lodged my dick just inside him. His arse was open. His cock was leaking pre-cum that ran down his shaft and over Emma's hands. His macho, laddish sensibility was telling him that he didn't want me to fuck him. But his body was telling him something else. As I held still, barely penetrating him, he spread his legs, adjusting the angle of his hips to facilitate my entry. He was still vaguely murmuring 'No', tossing his head on the bed, but as I pressed forward and he felt my penis move inside him he groaned.
'Oh God. Jesus. No. Please.' It wasn't clear whether he wanted me to stop, or was begging me not to. I don't think he knew himself. But I did, and so did Emma. She couldn't take her eyes off my fat shaft as it inched into Jason's belly. She put her hand down under Jason's balls, and encircled my tool. She caressed my cock and traced round the edge of his distended anus. I realised that she'd never seen anal sex from this side before. She leaned up towards me and kissed me, breathing heavily into my mouth.
'Are we having fun, baby?' I murmured into her open mouth.
'Oh yes. I want to see you fuck him. Fuck him for me.'
'Help him out, babes.' Breaking from our kiss, she turned round to face him. She got hold of his hands and brought them up to her splendid tits. He woke as if from a dream and opened his eyes and started caressed and cupping the handfuls she'd given him to play with. She leant forward and kissed him deeply and he responded passionately. His face was very red and coated in a slick sheen of sweat. I was only about halfway up him, as I started gently fucking. I grabbed his dick, enjoying its hot hardness in my hand and tossed him off in time to my thrusts in his bum. He started moving against me, involuntarily helping me to fuck him, as he tried to intensify the sensations inside. At this angle, my cock must have been sliding against his prostate with each stroke. Emma came up for air; she had her hands on his face and her tits under his chin, as she spoke to him.
'Do you like that, baby? Does Tim's dick feel good inside you?' He didn't answer her. He bit his lip, grunting and writhing with the pleasure of getting fucked. She stroked his hair and wriggled against him, letting him feel the womanliness of her soft, curvaceous body.
'Tell me, baby. Turn me on. Tell me how good it feels.'
'Oh god!' He was gasping like a fish out of water, but he couldn't hold back any more.
'Oh shit. It feels... Good. Oh god, it feels good.'
'I know, baby. Tim is very good at this. Just relax baby. You're safe here, just relax. Let Emma take care of you.' She let her body fall to one side and moved upwards, resting back against the headboard, cradling his head in her hands and against her tits. I let go of his throbbing cock and lifted his legs up onto my shoulders. I started in with deeper thrusts until the full length of my penis was embedded in his tight, hot, twitching hole. I was staring into his face, but he couldn't look at me; he had his head partially turned towards Emma, resting on her chest. His face displayed the struggle he was having between shame and pleasure. He was ashamed of what was happening to him: getting fucked up the arse by another man, an older, stronger, more masculine man who was using him like a bitch. He was ashamed of how much he was enjoying the fucking he was getting; enjoying the physical sensation, but also the subjugation of submitting to me, and submitting to Emma. As she cradled his head, soothing him whilst he moaned and gasped into her tits, she told me to fuck him harder, to stuff my big cock up him, to show her how much of a man I was. Shame hadn't softened Jason's cock, which now lay, twitching on his belly, oozing pre-cum onto his smooth skin. I could feel his butthole clamping on my cock and relished how much I was enjoying myself. I could feel my orgasm building somewhere behind my balls and shoved myself into Jason's bowels more urgently, increasing the pace and force of my thrusts.
I was gasping, moaning, 'Oh yes, oh yes. Yes, yes.' over and over, all my attention taken by the exquisite, tight friction against my cock. Emma could see I was close, and started frigging herself.
'Oh baby, are you close? Are you going to cum inside him? Oh yeah, baby, fuck him.' Her words heightened my excitement, but they pushed Jason well over the edge, and suddenly he was crying out, shoving his face between her tits and grinding his hips onto my penis. Emma leant forward eagerly to watch as his cock started pumping sperm onto his chest and stomach. The contraction of his arse muscles was so strong I thought I'd get pushed out, but the feeling of being intensely squeezed in his bum had me gasping. My orgasm hit and I filled his bowels with my sperm. Emma's face was slack, her hand almost a blur in her crotch. She bent her face down to Jason's and they were kissing deeply as she moaned that she was cumming into his open, slack mouth. I slowed my thrusts inside him and watched as my sometime girlfriend kissed her lover with a passion I hadn't seen her exhibit towards him when they'd been fucking earlier. She'd taken her hand from out of her cunt and was gently stroking and massaging his tummy, rubbing her fingers in his cum. Pulling away from the kiss I watched as she lifted her hand to my mouth.
Jason gazed up at me with a look of greedy gratitude as I licked his cum off her fingers. I looked deep into his eyes as I slowly withdrew my thickness from his rectum. As my fat head cleared his anus he closed his eyes, and softly groaned at the sensation of movement through his sphincter. Jason's face was glowing with bemused wonder as I left the room to piss. My cock looked red and swollen in my hand. My legs were a little weak, but as I looked at myself again in the mirror I felt good. I turned on the shower and climbed under the scalding spray. When I padded through the living room to the kitchen area, Emma was sat waiting for me, sipping a cup of tea, wrapped in a big fluffy robe. She looked up at me and smiled.
'How's our friend?'
She grinned, 'Sleeping like a well-fucked baby.'
'It's good to see you Em.'
'Yeah. Tim, I know why you came here today. I'm happy that you still think of me as someone you need when you're in pain.'
'I love you, honey, what can I say? We kind of got to a place where we didn't make each other happy. I kept things from you...'
'Don't go there, Tim. I can't say that I'm not disappointed we won't be tripping into the sunset together. But to be honest I'm not sure how well we'd have done when the passion wore off anyway.' I looked at her in shock, and she grinned at me before continuing.
'Look, you're a wonderful masculine, man. You're a great fuck. You made me feel alive and sexual and gorgeous. But baby, you weren't that great at understanding me, talking to me, you know?' I put aside a rising sense of anger and, with effort, recognised the truth in what she was saying.
'Yeah. I know. I've learnt a lot about myself lately. I needed to learn how to enjoy... putting aside my pride, my ego, all that macho crap. You've got a good friend in Jude, you know.'
'I know. So have you.'
'You think?'
'Tim, I'm not going to break any confidences here, but there's a lot that you and Tom don't know about Jude. He's a lot more his own person than I think Tom realises.' I was surprised to hear the bitterness in her voice as she spoke about Tom. I wondered what Jude had told her. But that wasn't my primary interest right now.
'What happens now, Em?'
'I don't know, Tim. We've got something special here, haven't we?' I nodded. She continued, 'But you're not in a position to commit to me, and I've kind of realised that I'm not ready to play wifey for some bloke right now. Let's be friends... Who play together when it makes us feel nice.' I laughed at her boldness.
'Sounds like a plan to me, babes. Any more of your boyfriends I can fuck for you?'
'Oh god, Tim. We were really bad! That poor boy will never be the same again!' She giggled deliciously. 'Jesus. I thought I was going to die when you put your penis in him... I knew he'd love it.'
'Just like you, slut!' We opened her scotch then, and toasted one another's naughtiness. We ended up snuggled up on her couch, dozing amiably. Several hours later, Jason staggered from her bedroom. He'd managed to get dressed and looked sheepish as he said goodbye to us. We waved to him from the nest we'd made on the sofa, and then giggled together as we watched him walk, rather bow-legged, to the front door.
I returned to my own home the next day. I felt a little emotionally fragile, but no longer destitute. My time with Emma, as well as boosting my ego, had made me feel connected: I was significant to someone I cared about. Things weren't the same as they were, but it was enough, for now, to know I wasn't completely alone. For a few days I enjoyed domestic routines. Going to work, using the gym at lunchtime, making sure I didn't sit at my desk all day. Coming home, cooking for myself, reading, rediscovering music I loved and listening to it at antisocial levels. Emma and I spoke every day, and I found that I looked forward to hearing her voice. There was a depth and openness to our relationship that I was enjoying. She was still keeping me at a distance, and that suited me. I didn't want her to move back in. I wasn't even sure I was that interested in her sexually. I'd sought refuge in her familiarity, in her attractiveness, when Tom had dumped me.
Being able to fuck her had salved me ego, but I'm not sure how hot we'd have got if Jason hadn't been on the scene. I'd been stunned how turned on she'd gotten watching some guy-on-guy action. Maybe straight women had the same thing about gay sex that straight men had about lesbians. I'd been in from work about half an hour one evening when Jude called round. It was wonderful to see him, but I felt self-conscious. It was the first time I'd seen him since he'd found out about me and Tom. He greeted me enthusiastically as I opened my front door. He looked gorgeous, stood on my doorstep in a beautifully cut suit.
'Hiya, handsome. How are you?'
'I'm fine, Jude. I'm surprised to see you.'
'Why? Because Tom was fucking you behind my back? For god's sake, Tim, he didn't invent shagging around!' I loved his straightforwardness. As he spoke he tossed his head back and flung his arm in a motion that I think was meant to communicate the extent of the shagging around.
'Listen darling, I can't stop, I've got my friend Dave in the car, but we were passing and I just wanted to see how you are.' I couldn't help but hear the subtle emphasis he placed on the word 'friend'.
'I'm really pleased you came, Jude. To be honest, you coming makes me feel a lot better. I'm sorry we didn't play by the rules.'
'I think it was a bigger crime for Tom than for me, actually. He had some big idea of us living together, joint accounts, getting a cat, all that.' His tone of dismissal made it clear what he thought of Tom's plans. 'Given that's what he was thinking, fucking you was a little outrageous. But much as I adore him, I don't want all that, you know? And besides, I've got my own plans...'
'And do they include your friend Dave?' I grinned at him, putting the same stress on the word 'friend' that he had. He put his hand to his chest and gasped in mock horror.
'Whatever do you mean?' His big pretty eyes gazed out at me from under his long lashes, affecting starlet naivety, before giggling. 'Jesus, Tim, he's a sexy fucker.' The stab of jealous pain in my gut shocked me. 'Just thinking about him makes me hard.'
'Oh yeah?' I put my hand on his crotch, and felt the stiffness there. I was trying to be casual, but I could hear the catch in my voice. Jude was looking at me very directly.
‘Sweetie, are you jealous?’ I laughed, awkwardly.
‘Oh my god! Tim!’ He folded his arms around me and brought his face close up to mine. I could smell the slight milkiness of his breath over the spicey exoticism of his cologne.
‘I don’t want to marry Dave any more than I want to marry Tom. God knows!’ He tossed his head at the absurdity of the idea.
‘I think you and I need to spend some time together, maybe over dinner, when I’m not making you do naughty things on your kitchen floor.’ He giggled.
‘I like you Tim, and I want us to see more of each other.’ My stomach had butterflies in it. I was looking down into his chest, couldn’t make eye contact.
‘Does that mean you still want to...’
‘Sleep with you? Of course it does! You’re a very sexy man, Tim.’ I brought my head up and kissed him with such urgency, his eyes widened, and then his tongue was in my mouth and my hands were in his hair. I was moaning into his mouth as I tugged off his jacket and his smooth, dry hands were under my T-shirt, caressing my back strongly. I ripped open the front of his shirt, delighting in the warmth of his body. He slid his hands down the back of my joggers onto my hairy arse. He sighed and ground himself against me. I could feel the stiffness of his cock pressing against mine and I made a little cry of pleasure into his mouth. Our breath was ragged in each others’ faces. His hands were cupping my arse-cheeks, pulling them apart and questing into my crack. We were still greedily sucking and probing our mouths as he backed me towards the kitchen table. My hands were in his belt, loosening his trousers and pulling them down. His lovely pierced cock was wedged between us as I kicked off my joggers and rubbed myself against him. I wanted him inside me very badly. I wanted him to take me and use me and fuck me and make me moan and pant and scream his name. I wanted Jude, my lovely queeny Jude to use me like his bitch and treat me like the slutty dog that I was. He pushed me backwards so I was sat on the edge of the table, and reached behind me to get the olive oil bottle that was stood next to the balsamic with the salt and pepper. He poured some into his hand and roughly slathered his penis with it. My arms were round his slender, toned neck, my legs wrapped round his waist as he found my puckered anus and pushed against it urgently.
‘Oh Jesus.’ I dropped my head onto his shoulder as his slick cock slid right up inside me. The warmth and friction in my rectum felt obscene and delicious. I rotated my bottom on his cock and groaned at the movement in my belly. Jude started pounding me, hard and fast, his open shirt flapping against me as he thrust, his breath harsh. I contracted my sphincter round his shaft and heard him gasp. My cock was rubbing between his warm smooth belly and my T-shirt and I was close to cumming. Jude was making desperate groans, panting with the exertion of his fucking. I wanted to feel him cumming inside me.
‘You fucking dirty slut.’ It took me a moment to realise that it wasn’t Jude who’d spoken. I felt a stab of fear as I saw the tall, lanky man who was stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His head was shaved, and he was dressed in tatty jeans and T-shirt. His feet looked huge in their enormous black work boots. His arms were covered in densely patterned tattoos. Rows of thick steel rings were pulling on his lobes, and one huge ring hung from his septum. As he walked towards us I saw a crown of thorns tattooed round the sides of his scalp. His face was cute in a rough, wicked kind of way. His eyes were huge and dark, his lips full. Seeing the look on my face, Jude stopped moving and turned to look at the stranger over his shoulder.
‘Oh fuck! Babes, I’m so sorry!’ Jude staggered against me, his body convulsing in suppressed laughter and embarrassment.
‘I’ve been fucking waiting 15 fucking minutes.’ The stranger’s voice was deep and common.
‘Guess you got held up.’ The guy swaggered towards us with exaggerated thuggishness. He slapped Jude’s arse playfully. Jude gasped, part laugh, part relief.
‘Tim, this is Dave.’ Dave was rubbing the bulge in his crotch and looking at us hungrily. I felt cowed by his gaze, recovering from the shock of him appearing in my kitchen, embarrassed by being caught by such a man getting fucked on my own kitchen table. My cock had shrivelled and Jude’s dick felt stiff and uncomfortable stuffed in my rectum.
‘I know who Tim is.’ Dave’s lip curled disdainfully and he cast a coldly appraising glance over me as he leaned towards Jude and kissed him on the neck. His eyes were boring into mine as he said,
‘Fuck ‘im, Jude. Make him pant like a fucking dirty little doggy.’ My cock hardened again at his words, and I shivered at the sense of objectification I felt under Dave’s brutal gaze. Jude and Dave kissed deeply, as Jude started moving inside me; short, lusty stabs into my arse. My cock was oozing onto my hairy belly. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dave. His appearance was so contrived, and yet so startling. It was shocking to see someone with such an extreme self presentation. He looked like so brutal, uncompromising; and yet his tattoos and piercings were so indicative of very precise, almost prissily particular tastes. I could smell him strongly, an earthiness that rose off the heat of his body. Jude broke from their kiss to concentrate on pumping me. Dave stared into my eyes. His gaze was unflinching. He raised his hands to my chest, and grasped my nipples. His fingers were long and blunt, fingernails dirty and chipped. I gasped as he pinched my nipples, and then cried out as he twisted them viciously.
‘D’you like gettin’ fucked?’ I nodded as his gaze drilled into me. Dave’s face was close to mine as he spoke and I could smell stale fags on his breath. Jude’s movement inside me was tripping me out, and I knew that if I touched my cock I’d cum.
‘Look at ‘cha. Fuckin’ slut. Slack-holed man-cunt. Little boy playing at being a real man. What he needs is sorting out. He needs a good shagging. Doesn’t he?’ He was speaking softly, his full lips curling disdainfully, his eyes still locked on mine. I nodded, feeling very excited by him referring to me in the third person, like I wasn’t worthy of being spoken to directly.
‘You queers are all the same. Dirty little doggies who need a real man to scratch your itch. Ain’t that right?’ He’d turned to Jude and dropped his right hand from its continuing assault on my nipple. I felt Jude flinch and knew that Dave had showed his fingers up my lovers’ arsehole. Jude stopped moving and closed his eyes. I could see Dave’s arm moving strongly behind Jude.
‘Oh Christ! Easy baby!’ Jude’s plea was full of pain and pleasure.
‘You don’t want me to stop.’ It wasn’t a question. Jude grasped my forearms tightly. I didn’t know exactly what Dave was doing to him but it was turning me on. Abruptly, Dave removed his hand from Jude’s arse and starting freeing himself from his jeans. He stepped back from us as he opened his flies and dragged the denim round his thighs. He wasn’t wearing underwear. His cock was fat and greasy. As it was released it slapped up against his flat tummy. The ring through its glans was incredibly thick. It looked obscene, scary and unnatural. I knew immediately that I wanted it very badly. Dave stepped up behind Jude and pushed on his back, pushed him in towards me. I put my arms round his shoulders and pulled him to me. I kissed him softly as I watched Dave crouching behind him, lining his brutal looking penis up with my lovers’ arse. I felt Jude’s cock throb in my hole as Dave pushed himself roughly inside. Jude gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed his groans greedily, relishing his being taken by this animalistic stranger.
‘Fuck yourself.’ Dave grasped Jude’s hips and held himself still. As Jude fucked into me, he withdrew himself from Dave’s tool; as he pulled out of me, he impaled himself. I looked into his face and saw his eyes, glazed and unfocussed; his mouth was slack.
‘Oh fuck. Oh fucking Jesus... Oh baby.’ Jude’s movements slowed and Dave started packing him; Jude dropped his head onto my chest. The force of the thrusts was shifting the kitchen table on the floor. Dave put his right hand on Jude’s shoulder and gripped it fiercely. His other hand steadied Jude’s hip. Dave’s lips were drawn back from his teeth in a grimace as he made violent jabs at Jude. I gripped my lovers’ cock tightly inside me and I felt him stagger and cry out as he came inside me. As Jude stood upright, Dave pulled out of him.
‘Get out of the way, Jude. I’m gonna fuck your mate raw.’ As Jude obliged, flashing me a quick complicit grin, I felt cum oozing out of my hole. My cock was rock hard. I wanted this rough fucker to take me and use me. He stepped in between my legs, staring down between my buttocks. I felt his fingers between my cheeks, moving in the stickiness there, probing me bluntly, but not ungently. He picked up my heavy cock off my belly and held it in his hand.
‘Push it out, mate.’ He voice had softened. He was still staring between my buttocks. His hand felt hot on my dick. My chest was tight, and it was warm and thrilling being enveloped by the rough, dirty smell Dave was giving off. I pushed down with my internal muscles, like I was taking a shit. I felt the warm wetness of Jude’s cum pass through my sphincter.
‘Oh yes.’ Dave sounded almost reverential. His gentleness was as thrilling as his earlier violence. His awe seemed to be containing his immense power. His interest in my fucked hole, oozing cum, was turning me on more than I could have imagined. My cock was throbbing in his hand. I became aware of Jude standing beside me at the edge of the table. He bent over me and I sucked his tongue into my mouth, moaning at the taste of him.
‘Guess it’s sloppy seconds for me...’ As Dave let go of my penis to focus on getting inside me, I picked it up off my stomach, enjoying the familiar firmness of it in my hand. Dave crouched a little, holding his slimy cock as he lined it up with my hole. I was slack and aroused, lubed up with sperm. I felt a flash of cold hardness against my arse lips as his ring pushed through them and then his stiffness was right up inside me.
‘Aaah. There you go.’ His tone was still full of awe. He flexed his hips against me, holding my thighs tightly against his torso as he penetrated me deeply. I groaned into the back of Jude’s throat, relishing the stillness, the hot stuffed feeling inside my belly. Dave started to pull back and then fucked me full of his stiffness, hard and fast. He quickly established a punishing rhythm, and I could hear his flesh slapping hard against mine. His strokes were violent and unrelenting. I felt a stab of dull pain high up in my rectum as he banged inside me at the end of his stroke and I tried to move off it, but his hands dug painfully into the flesh of my thighs and I settled into the discomfort, tripping on my subjugation. He was hurting me, but I was making sharp little surprised shouts of pleasure and my dick was making my hand slick with pre-cum. The pain of his thrusts had taken the edge off my impending orgasm, but quickly I felt myself reaching that plateau again.
‘Look. At. Yourself.’ Dave panted between thrusts.
‘You. Love it. Filthy. Fucking. Faggot.’ With each word he pounded into me with an unrestrained violence. He was frowning with concentration, his rough, thick-lipped face looked menacing and very exciting. I heard him hawk and then he spat a big gob of spit into my face; it landed just under my eye and rolled down my cheek, cooling on my skin as it slid. A wave of disgust rolled through me, a hot pain of humiliation. I felt myself cumming, sperm shooting up onto my neck and chest, arsehole clamping on the meat stuffed inside me. I tossed my head from side to side revelling in my self-disgust. I felt marvellously abandoned, like a kid who’s just filled his pants and hasn’t yet felt the shame of it.
‘Fuck! Fuck!’ Dave face was screwed up as he held himself deep inside me. I yelped with pain as I felt his finger nails lacerate my thighs.
Afterwards we sat in my kitchen and got pissed. Dave was a tree surgeon and pretty good company, even though he had some flaky ideas. His earthy, rough machismo was appealing, and it gave me a buzz to hear him laugh at my jokes as I sat in the dampness of his cum soaking into my pants. I felt a pang of loneliness as they left together, the melancholy of too much beer. I staggered up stairs to my bed, hugging the pillow to my chest and smelling the men who’d recently fucked me on my skin, in my hair. I didn’t see Jude for a few weeks after that, although we spoke on the phone often. I was still enjoying the routine of my solitude, of taking care of myself, exercising, eating well. My slack tummy got a little more taut, and my body began to resemble its former rugby-playing state. It felt good to enjoy my vanity. But the ache for Tom was never far away. My best friend had been taken away from me. There were parts of my life that were cut off from me because I didn’t have Tom to share them with. It was like my own feelings weren’t real without his wisdom and humour to check them out with. Everything was less bright, less worthwhile.
A couple of years back he’d introduced me to Walter Mosley and I’d devoured all his novels with relish. Passing Borders on Oxford Street one day I saw the new Easy Rawlins was out and started into the shop until I realised I wouldn’t be able to talk to Tom about it when I’d finished it. There was no point reading it. A wave of depression rolled over me, and I felt exhausted by it. I’d fallen in love with him. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Like a dream in which you feel the most perfect happiness, and long to bring it with you into consciousness. I’d known him all my adult life. Trusted him, cared for him, known he watched my back. And then, miraculously, discovered he could stimulate the wildest, and the tenderest, passion I’d ever known. And then he’d gone. It wasn’t going to be all right. I wasn’t going to feel that perfect happiness again. But I would go to work. Talk to Emma. Go to the gym. Do my washing. Wank myself stupid, futilely. I had no real sense of how much time was passing, of how long it was since I’d seen Tom that terrible afternoon. When I came home from work one day to find him stood on my doorstep, at first I was shocked, not to see him there, but by his nose still strapped and eyes blackened. Suddenly short of breath, I turned off the ignition, trying to calm the cramps in my belly, and got out of the car. I beeped it locked and stepped towards the front door. I hadn’t looked into his face.
‘Tim -
‘ My key was in the lock of my front door. Tom was standing beside me. I had thought I would be ready to see him. My heart thumped in expectation, desire. I could feel my face softening in his presence. But I couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to give up any power, didn’t want to feel the sickness of humiliation.
‘Tim, can I come in?’
‘Why not?’ I didn’t look at him as I held the door open behind me, as I took off my overcoat and draped it over the banister, as I walked into the kitchen and automatically reached for a glass and the open bottle from the fridge. I sloshed the wine into the glass and drank deeply. He was stood in the doorway of the kitchen. I looked into his face over the rim of the glass. There was a trace of sheepishness at the corners of his mouth, but his features were as strong as ever. I had an image of his shiftiness in his hallway the last time I’d seen him and took another gulp of wine and said nothing. I watched as he calmly took off his coat and draped it over the back of one of the chairs. He took a glass from the shelf and stepped towards me and picked up the bottle from the counter next to my arm. When he’d filled the glass he moved away and sat at the table, taking the only warmth in the room with him. I took another slug of wine.
‘All that anger’s not good for you, you know.’ His gaze was direct, his voice calm, controlled.
‘Piss off.’ I turned my back on him, leant my bum against the edge of the counter and drank deeply from my glass.
‘Ok. Sorry.’ His voice softened, and I heard him shift in his seat, the chair scrape on the floor.
‘Can we talk?’ I sighed, and turned back towards him.
‘I’m listening.’
‘I’m sorry that things got so out of hand.’ He spoke with a kind of cod earnestness that he’d learnt from his therapist. I thought he would carry on speaking, but he sat back in his chair with an air of self-satisfaction.
‘Is that it? Well, thanks, you can go now.’
‘You’re being very hostile.’
‘Get stuffed, Tom.’
‘And childish.’
‘What the fuck do my expect, you smug mother-fucking cunt?’ I slammed the glass down on the counter.
‘What do you want me to say? What do you think you’ve done here? What are you apologising for? What are you giving up, admitting to?’ I suddenly ran out of steam; I felt tired. I ran a hand through my hair.
‘What do you want?’
‘I want us to be reconciled.’
‘Jesus! What the fuck does that mean?’
‘I want to be friends again, open up a dialogue -'
‘Why?’ The harshness of my voice surprised me. His gaze faltered.
‘Lost for words?’ My tone was taunting. I sloshed some more wine into the glass and drank deeply.
‘Look... do you think this is easy for me? To come here?’ His composure was slipping, fractionally.
‘So? Should it be?’ He tossed his head back, and raised his arms and let them fall back to his sides.
‘Oh get over yourself. Cut the martyr crap. Take some fucking responsibility.’
‘Well, what the fuck are you admitting to?’ I stared him down, hard, for the first time, meeting his gaze with conviction, forcing him to look away first.
‘What did you think was going to happen when you came here, I’d let you patronise me like you always did, play at being a good sport and let you be the real man?’ He screwed his face up, but I plowed on.
‘You fucking hypocrite tosser. You might fancy men, and come out with all this new age yoga shit, but you’re a fucking macho pig. For fucking years we’ve played this game where you get to have it all your own way cause you’re a faggot, and I’m too fucking guilty to call you on it. I mean, Christ! Half the fucking time I didn’t know what you were pulling. I used to think you were so bloody cool, the hard man who paints his toenails, who doesn’t apologise for being queer. I was fucking well taken in by it all. You’re a competitive little fucker, and fucking men is all about your pathetic macho ego, it’s all about power -’
‘Oh do me a fucking favour!’ He interrupted me savagely.
‘A straight man who likes playing at being a sub in private is going to fucking lecture me about what it’s like to be queer? And just what the fuck do you think you’re giving up to the world? Come out as bi at work, have we? Told the blokes down the rugby club that you like taking it up the arse have you? What the fuck do you know about power? Do you know how hard I have to work to make sure nobody shits on me?’ Silence opened up, filling a chasm of despair and confusion between us. I could hear the harshness of my breath. Eventually I said,
‘And does that include me and Jude?’ He waved his hand dismissively,
‘Oh, what are you talking about?’
‘How hard do you think you have to work to keep up this macho front with the people who care about you? You’re so busy defending yourself against the world that you can’t let down your guard with anybody.’
‘What do you know?’ He leapt to his feet. His earlier composure was shattered.
‘I wanted Jude to live with me, be with me. I thought it was for real, that we had something.’
‘And what were you doing with me, then?’ I spoke softly, staring down at the counter in front of me. I looked up and saw his face crumpling as he sagged back into the chair and rested his head and arms on the table.
‘The truth is that you treated me so badly because you were scared of how you felt about me.’ I suddenly saw how much more clearly I saw everything than Tom did.
‘Jude complements you, is unthreatening to you. He’s such an adorable queen, being with him makes you feel like a man. But what are you so scared of? You’ve played up my sense of confusion, but really it’s you who doesn’t feel okay about your sexuality. It’s only okay for you to fuck men if you know that you’re really the man.’ He looked up. There were tears in his eyes but he gazed at me mockingly.
‘Is that supposed to make sense?’
‘You bloody know what I mean.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘You never complained.’ I smiled at him.
‘I loved what we had. But it wasn’t healthy for either of us. I enjoyed being your plaything, but we couldn’t carry on ignoring what it all meant.’
‘And what did it mean?’
‘Oh Tom. I love you. But I’m not competing with you any more. I’m not going to let you fuck me around so that you can feel good about yourself. I care about you too much to facilitate that kind of self-loathing - mine or yours.’
‘I’m sorry, Tim.’ I exhaled, and felt my shoulders drop.
‘So am I. Does your nose really hurt?’
‘You’ve got a serious right hook. Always did have.’
‘You can’t keep punishing me for being straight. Even if I’m not quite as straight as we thought.’ I snorted, not quite laughter. Tom looked at me quietly for a while. When he spoke I felt the intimacy opening again between us.
‘It was such an incredible turn on for me. You were always so effortlessly masculine, always had such stunning women on your arm, always the bloke the lads looked up to, without you even trying. Jesus!’ He laughed, shaking his head.
‘We were best mates, I loved that you could handle me, never showed any discomfort with my sexuality, never shut me up. I’d always fancied you, in a kind of distant, safe way. That night with Jude, I could barely contain myself. And since... well, it’s been like some kinky fantasy. What gay man doesn’t fantasise about taking a butch straight guy up the arse? Fuck! It was such a head-trip! I’ve never felt so excited. Taking you, punishing you made me feel so powerful. Rape fantasies are weird. You feel so fucking macho, but worthless, disgusting. I was hurting myself, hurting Jude. Christ! What a mess!’ He looked up at me, and his gaze was soft, his eyes moist. When I spoke, my voice was unsteady.
‘I didn’t have any way to protect myself from you. You were already so deeply under my skin, you know me better than anyone.’
‘I know, I know. In the end I felt like such a shit, I really was just punishing you, for making me feel so bad. And all the time, I couldn’t get any perspective, cause you’re my best friend and I couldn’t talk to you about it. That last time, I really knew I had to stop. I idealised my relationship with Jude. Thought that if I could just hold on to that I couldn’t be such a git after all.’
‘How is Jude?’
‘You tell me. I’ve spoken to him on the phone, but I think he wants some distance from me.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘I miss him, sure.’ He looked up at me.
‘Not as much as I miss you, matey.’ We gazed at each other across the kitchen for what seemed a long time. For the first time since I’d smashed his nose, I felt like everything was going to be okay, but I still didn’t know how to approach him. Had we said too much? He looked a little lost himself, like he wasn’t sure it was alright to reach out to me. I walked towards where he was sat, and put my hand on his skinhead. Gently he put his arms round my waist and laid his head against my tummy, as I put mine round his neck, cradling him to me. I heard him sigh. The bulkiness of him felt wonderful, solid. I don’t know how long I stood there; we weren’t in any hurry to move. Neither of us knew quite what was going to be okay: our old modus operandi felt too risky after so much soul bearing. Eventually, I gently disengaged.
‘I’m starving. Do you want to eat?’ He nodded at me silently. I opened the fridge and started taking out vegetables, cheese. I felt good, clanging pans, chopping and stirring, reaching out from the density of our emotions into the methodical, practical world of the kitchen and our basic need to eat. As the room filled with the hearty smell of frying garlic, Tom stopped watching me silently and went to the fridge.
‘D’you want more wine?’
‘God, yes.’ I smiled at him, and as he held the bottle he leant forward and kissed me on the lips. Our lips parted gently, tentatively probing our new selves. He gently pulled away to get the corkscrew, smiling dopily, and I turned back to my pans, glowing with pleasure at our reprieve. With every delicious domestic intimacy we pulled further back from the abyss. We hadn’t puttered round the kitchen together for years; back then he certainly wouldn’t have been kissing me. I felt the sudden profound weight of how much I wanted him, not only in my bed, but in my kitchen, in the routine of my life. By the time we’d eaten, and drunk another bottle of wine, I felt sleepy and happy. We’d chattered our way through the meal, laughing and bitching through the few weeks of our separation. Neither of us spoke of Jude, Emma or each other. We didn’t need to, and there were still raw places that we would only be able to come back to when we felt stronger. As Tom took my hand and led me upstairs, I put my head on his shoulder companionably. I didn’t think we’d have sex. I wanted us to get naked and cling to each other. I imagined his arms holding me as I drifted off and looked forward to the best night’s sleep I would have had for months. He paused outside my bedroom door, and we stood facing each other. In the weeks of our illicit passion, we’d never fucked in my bed.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked. He nodded, leaning towards me. Gently manoeuvring to protect his strapped nose, we kissed. At first there was reticence; but our melting garlicky kisses became more passionate as we felt each other’s tenderness. His hands were in my hair as I sucked his tongue into my mouth, relishing the salty taste of him. He dropped a hand to my neck and caressed me gently there as his tongue wriggled in my mouth. My hands were on his big firm arse, smoothing over the denim, enjoying the weight of him in my palms. Suddenly sleep was the last thing I was interested in. Our previous times had been characterised by my willingness to submit to him, by the thrill of my expectation of his desire to have me. Now I wanted to explore him. When we finally tumbled into my bedroom, his shirt was hanging off and my pants were round my knees. Giggling at our fumbling ineptness, we parted to tug off our remaining clothing. When we came back to each other I felt his warmth radiating strongly and the smell of his excited body filled my head, making me dizzy. Slowly I ran my hands over him, perhaps for the first time assimilating his body for myself. He was solid and meaty, but with an outer layer of softer, yielding flesh. His arms felt powerful but his skin moved under my touch. I traced the outline of the large tattoo that extended over his shoulder and down his left arm and down into the dark hair that shaded his broad, strongly defined forearm. Grasping his hand in mine I lifted his arm over his head and breathed in the saltiness of his armpit. The dense coarseness of his moist hair was beautifully framed by the firm edge of his pec and the back of his shoulder. I dipped my head and rubbed my nose under his arm and licked his sweat as he dropped his hand onto the back of my hair. Inhaling deeply I groaned. I wanted to eat him, devour him, savour all his tastes and smells. His flesh thrilled me, yielding its dormant power under my explorations. Tom is a beautiful, masculine man. He matches my six and a half feet, although he’s maintained a more disciplined exercise regime than me in the last few years and so his rugby player’s build hasn’t started to turn soft, as mine has. His closely shaved, balding head forms a strong contrast with the acres of unruly dark hair that cover his chest, from his neckline, fanning out across the width of him before tapering down his stomach in a broad line into his dense bush. His legs and arse are also carpeted, but thankfully not his back. At the base of his spine, above his arse crack, he has a patch of hair that’s just visible above his Calvins.
His face is broad and long, with strong, very horizontal eyebrows and big, wide brown eyes above high cheekbones and a long, thick nose. His mouth, usually framed by a couple of days of rough stubble, is pink and his lips broad and thick. As I sank to my knees, releasing his arm, he let his hand rest heavily on top of my head, and I faced his awesome cock. It hung down between his legs, poised in the moment before erection. Engorged and fat, his thick foreskin had partially retracted and his glans were moistly peeking out at me. The smooth soft surface of his shaft was traced with veins, their thick blueness punctuating the ochre creaminess of his skin. The heat of his arousal was generating a strong animal smell in his crotch, salty with a slight tang of piss. I buried my nose in his bush and inhaled him, relishing the gentle caress of his hands on my head. At last I felt that this moment actually belonged to us, two men tentatively recognising their feelings for one another, uncompromised by the churning sickness of guilt or humiliation. I lowered my head through his crotch, my nose following the crease of his leg, his cock hot and hardening against my cheek. His legs parted as I ducked lower. His balls, encased in a surprisingly dark scrotum, drew up as my breath bathed over them and I felt him shiver above me. Lodging my nose just behind them, I opened my mouth and felt the coarseness of his hair in my mouth and then I was licking the wrinkled, yielding surface. I heard him sigh, and gently traced round the outline of each of his fat balls.
My saliva cooled on his skin and I felt the weight of his penis lift off my chin. I moved backwards and breathed in the earthiness of his arse. I was stretched awkwardly on the floor underneath him, my neck aching upside down. Grasping his high, tight buttocks, I moved him to the bed, where I bent him over the side. He was acquiescent and sprawled on top of the duvet, turning his head to one side and spreading his legs wide. His arms were arced round his head, and his cock pressed down against the side of the bed, poking down between his legs. It looked obscene. He was magnificent, muscled, hairy and docile under my explorations. His buttocks were so firm that even with his legs spread, his crack wasn’t open. As I parted them, breathing in his dense aroma, his sphincter winked at me, tickled by my warm, erratic breath. He moved his legs further apart, making my access easier. His crack was furry, and with my finger I parted the hairs obscuring his hole. It was tightly puckered. I didn’t know how many cocks had been up there; from what I knew of Tom’s sexual tastes and history, it can’t have been many. From the tightness of it, I’d have said it was a long time since anything substantial had been inside him. I felt a strong urge to give him this, to offer him the strength and warmth of my body. I wanted to allow him to feel taken, to lose himself in my desire for him. I pushed my tongue up against his anus and felt it spasm tightly against the wet intrusion. I moved around it, feeling the little ridges radiating, tightening against my touch, but gradually relaxing as he got used to the intimate contact.
My face felt full of the taste and smell of him, and saliva started to run down my chin as I lapped more passionately. I wanted to open him up and eat him, push myself into the heart of him. Gradually I felt the outer layer of his muscle opening. I pulled back and felt the coolness of saliva on my face. Flattened by dampness, the dark curls of hair matted the inner surface of his buttocks, and his anus was displaying a glimpse of its inner pinkness. I reached up to my bedside drawer and took out the lube. I pumped some onto my forefinger and then more into his crack. I watched as the clear liquid ran through the hairs and over his pucker, which pulsed, widening slightly at its touch. Gently I touched my finger to his centre and felt it tighten against me. I rested it there, firmly, and felt his body shift as it widened and then I was trapped in the thick tightness of his anus. I lodged there, feeling him contract tightly, and then he was open and I pushed my finger fully inside him, into the opening behind. I heard him moan softly above me and he shifted upwards, parting his legs more widely, bending his knees. He was very tight, but as I found his prostate, pushing downwards firmly, I heard him moan in surprise, and his sphincter loosened around my finger. I advanced another and soon both were stroking him as he made soft purring noises into the bedclothes.
Watching my fingers penetrate him got my cock very hard. I glanced down at it, angrily red and throbbing in my crotch. The foreskin was fully retracted and pre-cum was oozing freely. We’d never talked about me fucking him. I hadn’t ever imagined it, until after that day when he’d dumped me, when I’d cum many times over thinking about raping him, punishing him, making him beg and plead for my cock as I had done for his. But the fantasies were expressions of my powerlessness: I had never really conceived of taking him. That wasn’t how he’d excited me. Now that I was here, with him splayed over the edge of my bed, I didn’t want to humiliate him. I wanted to take care of him, to give him my passion, to hold him tightly as I came inside him and felt his body trembling beneath me. I knew that was what he wanted even though I could never have imagined him asking, and we hadn’t spoken about sex all evening. Once we’d finished shouting, neither of us was confident enough of the rapprochement we’d achieved to broach the subject of the sexual dynamic between us, but now I knew that he was conceding something important to me, and I felt a strong sense of gratitude for the responsibility he was giving me. He didn’t say anything as I stood up and slathered my cock with lube, nor as I grasped his legs and swivelled him onto the bed, but as he reached up for a pillow and wedged it under his rump, he turned and smiled at me. I leant forward and we kissed, slowly and passionately. I came up behind him on the bed, and our lips parted. His legs were splayed open, his arse tilted up towards me.
The high tight mounds of his buttocks were one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen, a thrilling contrast to the soft heaviness of most of the women I’d screwed. Leaning down over his back, with my knees between his, I braced myself on my left elbow and with my right hand I guided my penis into his slippery crack. It wasn’t the most comfortable position to try and get into him, but I was so excited my dick hurt and I knew I was so hard we wouldn’t have a problem. I rubbed my stiffness between his cheeks until I felt his pucker against my glans. Tom pushed back against me as he felt me up against his hole. I moved forward and felt him yield and then tighten. My head was lodged just inside, tightly gripped and unable to penetrate further. I knew that he wasn’t used to having anything up his back passage, and my cock isn’t anywhere as big as his, but it’s still pretty thick. I let myself drop down onto his back, my cock throbbing intensely as I felt the deliciously firm cushion of his bum against my loins. I pushed my arms under his armpits and grasped his shoulders, keeping up a steady pressure against his sphincter. As I felt it open and my penis push into his body he reared up under me.
‘Oh. God!’ I held back slightly, not allowing myself to fully penetrate him as he settled back down into the bed.
‘Jesus! Hold it. Oh god, hold it.’ He was panting, sensations overwhelming him. I could feel the extreme tension of his body beneath me.
‘It’s okay baby.’ I nuzzled his neck gently, holding myself still inside him. His head was turned to one side, his eyes tightly shut. I could only imagine what he was thinking. The urge to fuck was strong, but the restraint was delicious. I felt strong and giving, probing his interior, knowing how I could hurt him and that I’d enjoy it, but choosing to care for him, and enjoying that more. Slowly the tension in his limbs dissipated and I felt his sphincter dilate. Without pushing into him, my penis slid further inside and I felt more than heard him sigh. Now I was fully inside him, my crotch pressed tightly against his magnificent arse, and I felt a surge of pleasure. I closed my eyes and willed myself back from the brink. I snuggled into his broad back, rotated my hips and gasped at the sensation of my shaft moving inside him. He opened his eyes and looked back at me.
‘Are you okay, Tom?’ He nodded dopily. His face was flushed and sweaty, his stubble damp. His blackened eyes and strapped nose looked adorably pathetic, yet dangerous and rough. I squeezed him tightly and felt him push his arse back onto my stiffness. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto the bed.
‘Fuck me baby. Fuck me good.’ He murmured sleepily, his deep voice vibrating in my chest, tightly pressed against his back. I flexed my loins against him and felt myself push deeper into him and watched his brow furrow and his lips part as he groaned softly. I gently withdrew a couple of inches and pushed back into him. Closing my eyes I rested my head between his shoulder blades and starting pumping him, short outward strokes, and then slowly but firmly pushing deeply into his buttocks. As I withdrew he made delicious expectant inhalations, letting them go and softly groaning as I pushed back into him. His arsehole still felt intensely tight and I had to concentrate not to get too excited. At each push into him I felt the thrill of wanting to go deeper into his bowels than his taut sphincter would allow. My cock felt unbearably stiff. For the first time in my life I wanted a bigger cock, wanted him to feel me in his throat, wanted to fill him completely with my manhood. Gradually my thrusts became stronger and I felt his arsehole, his whole body, become slack under me. I started pulling almost all the way out of him, then deeply back inside. He picked up my movements, and on the inner stroke, when his arse was as full of my cock as it could be, we wriggled together, relishing the inner contact. His groans, which had been deep, subterranean mumbles, became more urgent, his lips parted, and his brow furrowed deeply with concentration. I knew what he was feeling, that exquisite, intolerable violation, the intense intimate fullness deep inside, and it heightened my pleasure. I was taking him. I was fucking Tom on my bed, making him moan as he had made me moan. He shifted beneath me, shoving his hand down into his crotch. His breath came in a hiss as he grabbed his dick and started jacking himself in time with my thrusts inside him. I sped up, slamming long, deep thrusts into his slack arse. Suddenly he cried out, violently,
‘Oh fuck! Jesus baby, fuck me!’ Beneath me his movements became more urgent. I held on tightly as his body shifted and convulsed strongly, almost fighting to stay on him, to keep my cock inside. I pushed my hand down between his damp, hairy torso and the dishevelled sheets and pillow. He released his cock and I held it tightly. He was so big that my fingers didn’t reach all the way round his shaft. He extended both arms in front of us, grasping the bed frame and flexing his body. His strength was tremendous, his muscles bulging tautly, and I used his immense penis to hold his loins steady against my onslaught. He humped his stiff cock in my hand, pushing back against my hardness inside him. I could no longer sustain my long thrusts, and began rabbit-fucking him. Sweat was pouring off me onto his strained body beneath me as we heaved and bucked against one another. I felt his arse clamp down on my penis and he cried out, shoving his cock into my hand, into the pillow. I slammed myself deep inside him, gasping as his anus spasmed on my fat dick. I felt his cock pumping, felt the stickiness of his sperm in my hand. I couldn’t believe I’d fucked him into cumming, and bit into his neck, momentarily frozen by the onslaught of my orgasm. Quickly I jammed myself into him, three or four violent thrusts as I flooded his rectum with my spunk, before I collapsed onto his back, flexing myself against him as the spasms passed. My cock was still stiff inside him as he turned his head and found my lips with his. Our mouths were wide open, tongues blunt as saliva flowed between us. I ground myself into him and he moaned into my mouth. Eventually we shifted onto our sides. My penis was still inside him. I could feel the stickiness of our fluids drying between us.
One arm was still wrapped round his shoulder, the other held his cock, which had softened, but which I still couldn’t get my fingers all the way round. When my soft cock slipped out of him he sighed, but snuggled back against me. I don’t know how long we dozed like that, but when I awoke, the air felt cool against my skin. Tom slept deeply against me. The sky was deep black against the bare window, and I pulled the duvet over us and nestled back against him. It was still dark when I next awoke. Tom was shifting in the bed, which sagged as he got out and padded towards the bathroom. I stretched ecstatically, nourished by the warmth of the sheets where his body had been. I’d dozed off again, and awoke as he climbed back in bed. This time he cuddled up behind me, and I drew my legs up to my chest, enveloped in him. I drifted off, deciding that I’d kiss off work the next day, and luxuriated in the idea of us spending all day in bed, talking, eating, fucking. I had my best friend back. Much later I opened my eyes to see streaks of mauve lightening the sky. I could feel Tom’s hard-on poking my back. I stretched in his arms and turned to face him. He was awake.
‘Good morning starshine.’ He smiled at me and we kissed, gently. I pulled back and gazed at his face, softened by sleep and fucking. He took hold of my hand, and lifting his leg, touched my fingers to his arse. I could feel the lips of his sphincter, still inflamed and distended, sticky with lube and cum.
‘Feel what you’ve done to me. I’m sore. I keep farting out cum.’
‘Perils of being a slut bottom.’ We giggled and kissed again, more passionately. I felt my cock rising. I stroked his cheek.
‘Are you okay?’ He looked at me.
‘Wonderful, matey. And you?’ I nodded sleepily. We kissed some more. Our breath was stale, our stubble caked with last night’s dried saliva, but it didn’t matter. We started caressing each other under the sheets. My hand was splayed across his hard buttocks, finger gently lodged in the stickiness between them. I felt his immense dick poking my belly, smearing the pool of pre-cum it was leaking there. It felt wonderful to be in his arms, but as we made out I had a growing sense of insecurity. We’d thrown out the old rules, ended the dodgy power games, but I didn’t want to feel unstable, like I had to give up the thrilling identity I’d just found. I needn’t have worried. Tom started humping himself on my tummy as we kissed. Eventually he pulled away.
‘Jesus, Tim. I’ve got to fuck you.’ I grinned at him.
‘Thank Christ for that.’ His smile was cocky.
‘Oh yeah? Worried that I wouldn’t want to throw you a portion any more?’
‘Fuck you!’ I laughed. He stopped smiling, and touched my face.
‘But you need me to take care of you, don’t you?’ My dick jumped, and I nodded. It wasn’t so funny now. I wanted him inside me very badly. He sat up in the bed, pushing off the covers, and reached for the lube. His dick sprang up, big as ever. I’d felt it inside me often enough, but still it was a shock to think I could take it. Last night his maleness had been yielding, needy, and I’d found it very exciting. This morning all I wanted was for him to take me and use me. I didn’t feel excited by my own humiliation any more. I felt Tom’s equal, felt how much he cared for me, and how much he needed me to care for him, but I still wanted him to dominate me, to fuck me into oblivion with his huge cock and make me beg for more. He slathered lube on his shaft and pulled a pillow down the bed. I positioned it under my hips and drew up my legs. I felt his sticky fingers at my arsehole and pulled open my buttocks. My own cock was heavy and hard on my belly. All trace of drowsiness was gone. We both needed this, both needed to affirm the dynamic between us. Our actions were swift, urgent. With just a little pressure, my anus was open and very soon Tom had three fingers wriggling inside me. Kneeling between my legs, he was slowly wanking himself with his other hand.
‘Tom. Please -' He looked into my eyes as he brought his cock up against my arsehole and I rested my legs on his shoulders.
‘Are you okay?’ I loved his care, but I was impatient.
‘Yes, please. Just fuck me.’ I closed my eyes.
‘I need you inside me.’ I opened them and felt his broad, spongy head pressing against me. It was too big, even though I was open. I wriggled against him and felt it penetrate me. Tom gasped sharply and grasped my legs tightly against his chest.
‘Easy baby, I’m gonna cum’ he gasped.
‘Sorry’ I groaned, pushing, trying to hump myself on him, frustrated by my passivity. I was desperate.
‘Okay baby. Here you go.’ He brought his loins forward and I felt his stiffness slide right up inside me. I rolled my head back on the bed and groaned deeply.
‘Oh yes. Oh Jesus. That’s it.’ The stuffed feeling deep in my bowels made my cock jump on my belly. I could feel my sphincter spasming around his huge girth and a sharp pain high in my tummy, but I didn’t care. I gasped sharply as he slid further inside me and I felt his balls against my bum. I rotated my bottom on his cock and groaned, tossing my head from side to side as I felt the hot stiffness moving inside me. I wrapped my legs round his waist as he bent over me, tucking his thighs under my hips and hunching his crotch further inside my legs. He kissed me with such passion that I couldn’t breathe, pushing his tongue strongly into my mouth and down my throat. I was flooded with his saliva and pulled him to me, tightening my arms round his torso. His hands found my nipples and rolled them strongly between his thick fingers, pinching me until I gasped. I felt my arsehole dilate and I farted round his thick member, and we shifted together, his immensity moving further inside. I felt my feverishness subside a little and our kissing became less intense. Finally Tom pulled back, and let go of my nipples.
‘Is that better, baby?’ I tensed against him, feeling the solidity of his penis in my rectum, and then I relaxed, exhaling deeply.
‘Fuck, I needed that.’
‘Me too.’
‘Really? You still need to fuck me?’ I felt rather small.
‘You know I do. I wanted you to fuck me last night. You needed it. I need to be taken care of sometimes. I need to let down my guard, stop being competitive. Shit, sometimes I need a bloody good rogering. But it’s not who I am. I don’t need to get fucked to feel desired, to feel sexual. I know that you do. But you need to know that I’m not going pull any crap on you because that’s how it is between us. No more power games. I love you because you’re a man.’ His face was close to mine, his voice deep and soft and loving. His hand was stroking my hair.
‘I love you too, Tom.’ I kissed him, softly, then gently pulled back, contracting my sphincter round his cock.
‘Now fuck me like a man. I want your spunk in my belly.’ He didn’t spare me. He fucked me hard and fast and deep and it felt wonderful. My arse was slack and let out stoppered little farts round his girth. I could smell the rankness of our sex but all I felt was the itch deep in my belly that was abating as I laid myself open and relished the fucking I was getting. His thrusts were so fast they blended together and all I could do was gasp sharp breaths as he slammed me.
‘Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh.’
‘Is that good, baby?’ Tom sat back on his haunches, slowing, giving me a respite. Holding my legs up on his shoulders he plunged his shaft all the way in and then all the way out. As he slowed his pace, the feelings inside intensified. I could feel his thick cock rubbing my prostate, and the friction was tripping me out. His strokes felt amazingly long as his incredible penis disappeared inside my belly and then withdrew almost to the tip of his fat glans.
‘Oh god...your dick is big...make me cum, Tom.’
‘You got it.’ He looked down at me hungrily.
‘Jesus, you look hot.’ He stroked my broad, hairy chest.
‘I’ve never fucked such a butch guy before.’ He was panting heavily.
‘Did I ever tell you that?’ I knew he’d fucked several married men in his time. Once I’d found his tales unnerving and trilling. Now I only wanted to hear him tell me how special I was.
‘Oh Tom, fuck...I’m close. Oh god, I’m close. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.’
‘Don’t worry, babes, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Oh god, that feels so good. Fuck me. Fuck me.’ His long, unhurried strokes were driving me insane. I grasped my nipples and rolled them between my thumb and forefinger.
‘Oh yes. Play with yourself. Shit, you’re fucking amazing.’ He was breathless, but collected, almost calm. I knew he was close to cumming, but I felt the intensity of his attention focussed upon me, watching the pleasure I was getting from him stuffing me with that fucking mammoth penis. I watched my cock jumping on my belly as I felt the orgasm hit me. The first pump hit my neck and them ropes of it stuck in my chest hair. Tom’s relentless, unhurried strokes continued as I screamed over and over that I was cumming and my arsehole clamped on his thickness. As the waves of pleasure subsided I wriggled a little in discomfort as he continued to long dick me, but then he slammed deep inside, holding himself rigid as he came.
‘God!’ I felt the waves of his orgasm pass over him as he dug his nails into my legs and his cock pressed painfully somewhere deep in my belly. Gradually his grip loosened and he pulled his cock back. Exhausted, he rested his weight on top of me and I was glad to feel it. I reached down and felt at my arse where we were joined. His thickness had turned the lips of my anus outward, and I traced round them, awed by our connection, how it could feel to have a man inside my body. As he shifted, cum leaked out of me. I brought my fingers to my lips and Tom watched me lick them clean then kissed me deeply. I could strongly smell cum, lube and my arse as our fluids mingled, passing between our mouths. Tom started to move off me, and I clamped down on him hard.
‘No. Don’t. Not yet. Don’t take it out of me yet.’ He smiled at me, and kissed me again. As his cock softened I milked it inside my arse. Just for now, it was all mine and I wanted to keep it in my belly, where it belonged.
If you’ve enjoyed this story, let me know. If it’s made you cum send me an email and tell me about it. Tell me what your favourite (and not so favourite) bits were. I love hearing people’s reactions to my stories. I love hearing about their fantasies. I reply to everyone who makes the effort to get in touch. Don’t be shy... This is the end of the story Anal Awakenings. I’m going to take a break from these characters for a while: I’m planning some shorter pieces featuring different scenarios, but who knows, I may come back to Tim, Emma, Tom and Jude sometime.
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-friends/anal-awakenings/