Friends First (m/m) -- Plus A (f) Or 2.

PDuvalEE

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We burst into our place. Bags get dropped, door kicked closed. We are locked in a massive three way make out session. “You okay with this?” I ask Peter. He pulls away and looks at me. Lust was literally in his eyes. “I want to fuck you so hard right now” and he literally rips the shirt off of my back, buttons flying, fabric tearing. We are disrobing as we go up the stairs. Everett kisses me. “Stick your tongue in hard. Oh yeah. That’s so hot” and we collapse on the bed and Peter is fumbling for the lube. His dick is wet with passion and he squirts at my hole. I’m doggie and Everett is feeding me his cock.

Fuck, I’m getting sandwiched. Peter lines up and he pushed hard and fuck if he isn’t in and I can hear him kissing Everett and I’m getting fucked and each inward thrust pulls me onto Everett’s massive tool. And what a cock and I’m being used and abused and it’s hot and Peter is literally pounding into me. Fuck. My dick is hard and flopping away under me. I can feel precum, and I work Everett’s cock. It’s just a beautiful cock and I can sense Peter is close, and I pull off Everett and shout “I’m cumming” and I work my cock with one hand as I shoot and my mouth finds Everett’s cock just in time to taste his cum and there’s a lot and it’s salty and it’s tasty and I swallow and use my lips then my slimy fingers to milk more out of him and fuck if Peter isn’t crescendo-ing in my ass. My ass is wet and slippery and damn boy. Peter collapses on top of me, and in Everett’s lap and it’s just us. Breathing HARD.

“Holy fucking hell. That was hot” and Peter slaps my ass. We just lie there and enjoy the bliss. Everett is the first to get up and he walk to the bathroom and you hear the taps run. Then you can hear him pissing. Then a flush, the water, and he’s back onto the bed with us.

“Not gonna lie – that was HOT – way hotter than I ever thought guy-on-guy could ever be. You literally sucked the cum out of my balls”. You can hear the smile in his voice. I sit up and flip over so and then we all three are sitting with our backs against the headboard. Dicks out, going soft. Legs over each other. A tangled mess.

“So how did we get here” Peter asks? And Everett relays Sammie’s story. Peter smiles and you can see him putting the dots together.

“But you are straight, right? I mean, how do you feel having just gotten sucked off by a dude, while you were making out with another dude who was fucking the dude you were getting sucked by?” And I’m looking at Everett and he’s smiling.

“Fine, man. And relieved. If that’s ‘gay’ sex, I’m all for it. I have no idea why there has been such a historical taboo about it.” And he’s shaking his head. “I am now firmly in the camp of ‘who cares what people do behind closed doors’.” And he turns to me.

“Thank you. That was really hot. And very educating. I’m not giving up the pussy by any means. But I totally get how guys can get each other off, and I think it’s pretty cool.” And he’s smiling.

We go down for some beverages and Peter pulls his boxers on. No way am I putting Aussie Bums on for this crowd, so I head back up and put a nice manly pair of boxers on. Everett has his on, too. Shame, really. But still lots of eye candy. We sit. We chat, we got to know each other. Chat about Sammie.

“Do we tell her about this?” and Everett shrugs. “I don’t mind. She might even be pissed she missed the action. Fuck, would have been hot to have Con fuck her while he sucked me and got fucked by you, Peter” and my dick twitches at that thought. I can see Peter assessing that option. Dirty guy. Fucking hell. And my hand moves to Peter’s cock, which I rub gently. I don’t leave Everett out.

“Stop – Con. I’m not doing a second session. I have to go back to the tavern.” But see…I have two hot boys here. And I have a new cock that I want to play with. I lean into Peter’s lap and put his cock into my mouth. I move onto my knees, leaving my ass for Everett to discover. Which is does. Though my boxers as he teases my hole and his other hand finds my hard on.

I hear Peter sigh and his cock is responding to my mouth. I finger his taint and he widens his legs. The mouth of his boxers is getting wet with my saliva. He sits up and puts his dick back in and slides his boxers off. Everett gets mine off, too. His hand is gently massaging my cock and it’s like feather tight and his thumb rubs my hole and then my taint and then up to my cock, stroking slowly from the base to the tip. I feel him lean in and start to lick and eat my ass. Peter moves to lie on the arm of the sofa and I feel Everett slide his cock up to me.

“Lube. Drawer” I pause on sucking Peter just long enough to get out. No fucking way am I taking that monster cock with no lube.

And damn. For the second time in a day, I’m getting a LARGE sausage rammed up my tight ass.

“You are clean, right?” as reason returns for a fleeting second. “Yeah man” as I feel his head pierce my ass. Fucking hell. And it feels good. I am overwhelmed by sensations. Everett has lubed my cock up and he’s doing a find damn job fucking me and giving me a hand job. Not. Going. To. Last. Long. And I’m focused on my man and his cock in my mouth and his balls and his taint and giving him pleasure and his hands are on my head and he’s working me up and down like I’m a fucking doll. And he is moderating his pace, fast and slow and then down hard. I’m gaging. I can hear Everett kissing Peter. Fuck as Peter face plants my head on his cock and he spurts into my mouth. Then he pulls my head up to swallow and then he thrusts his hips up into my mouth as another burst of cream hits the back of my throat.

Everett smells the semen and he is literally banging the shit out of my ass. “I’m gonna cum, I’m fucking going to CUM!” and yep. You guessed it. He came. Once. Stopped. And then a bunch of rapid cums. His hand on my cock and I erupt at the couch. Fucking hell. I collapse on Peter.

Everett pulls his cock out and he’s pushing his cum with the head of his cock and he’s pushing it back into my hole. Penetrating me four or five times. Such a frat boy thing. “Making sure my baby-makers get in there” and I picture him doing that to a pussy with so many of his many conquests. He is a stud. Peter – 100. Everett – definitely a 92. I’m an 88. But I’ll take it. And then Everett is on me and we are doing a three way hug.

“That was fan-fucking-tastic!” and you can hear his glee.

“I fucked a chick who wouldn’t give up her V for me in college – but it was NOTHING like this. This was huge. She was like ‘it hurts’ and ‘hurry up’ as I was working her tits and clit for her. You were like a fucking porn star!” and Peter and I smile. And I roll over so we can see each other.

“Have we turned you gay?” and he looks at me. “Well, I’m not a dude virgin anymore.” And he smiles.

“Yeah you are, Everett. You don’t lose your V-card till you get fucked as well.” And you see Everett’s face freeze. And you can see his eyes focus on Peter. And then he smiles.

“Well. We may have to shake it up a little and go for a round 3. Got any pot?” and I turn to look at Peter who is smiling as he opens the pot/lube drawer. Huh. Didn’t see this angle!

Yeah. It was a fun night. Let me know if you guys want to hear about it!
 

PDuvalEE

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Let’s just say the taboo had been broken, as we knew it would. Our love life, if it could be possible – got even better as well. We were well and truly in love. My heart would leap when I’d see him in the gym. I would sometimes go early and he’d meet me. And just to see him.

It was also amazing to watch everyone else looking at Peter. I could pick out the ones shocked, or lusting after him. I could see the envy and the desire. Peter saw none of it. Or none that I could see. When he was with me, we were with each other. It was an amazing feeling to see him work out, or to see his butt cheeks twitch and seeing another guy or gal see it too and want to touch it. He really had animal magnetism.

We ate out. We worked out. We’d go for walks. We’d play with Brooks. And yes, Sammie was incredulous about Everett and you could see the wheels spinning on a four way – but she didn’t say anything.

Then it was time. We had been getting progress updates on the baby. Weeks were ticking down. The surrogate came to stay. And then we checked her into a private room. Was she okay with us being in the delivery room with her? She laughed. “When you are delivering a baby, there is no modesty left. You should be there and I’d like you to be there for your baby.” Peter and I nod and smile.

“But I have to warm you” and we look at her. “Delivery smells. Everyone is shocked by the smell. The blood and pushing and screaming they are okay with…but the smell is a shock. So be prepared.” And we look at each other. Who knew?

We massage her. We walk her around. She didn’t break her water, but the doctor didn’t care. He’d update us on her dilation. Gave her some ‘jungle juice’ to move her along. Then we had a team of doctors in. All giving options. One very nice gal really got in there. Under the sheet and both hands. Must be amazing.

“I can feel the baby’s head” and she was working her hands, but her face was turned. Nothing to see. “It’s in a good position. Shouldn’t be too long now” and she takes her hand out and gloves off and she goes to the sink.

“This is your third, correct” as she scans the chart.

“Good. You may want to see if you can stand up. Don’t go too far. Your contractions are still relatively far apart…but gravity does help, and walking is good.” So walk we do. Stopping to breathe through the contractions. Which speed up. And she’s working it like a champ. She’s back in bed now and the doctors are here and a few nurses. Game time.

And literally we hold her and tell her she’s doing a good job and she’s sweaty and the doctors are like “Now give me a really good push, okay?” looking at the contractions on the monitor. Cool. She grunts and pushes and the doctor praises her. “Okay. You are close. Breathe and rest through the contractions. Another one is coming and take a deep breath and PUSH” and she does and yep, she screamed on that one. They gave her an epidural earlier. But still.

And then there is a flurry of activity and more pushing and bam. Out pops a baby. Big loud cry. It’s messy and bloody and the cord is attached and the doctor is rubbing it to get its circulation going. “It’s a boy!” I literally got gut punched and lean over and start crying. The emotion was just too much. Peter hugs me and kisses my cheeks and we are thanking the surrogate and she delivers the afterbirth and the nurses clip the cord.

“He’s all healthy and has all of his bits and pieces. Did you want a circumcision? Now is the best time to do it.” And I look at Peter. I was dead set against it…but I do love a nice cut cock…”Up to you babes.” And we turn to the surrogate. “Would you decide for us?” and she meekly smiles. “It’s cleaner to circumcise him. But if you don’t want to decide now, you can do it later, like the Jews do when they do a bris.” And I nod. “Good point” and we wave the nurse away. The baby is cleaned, swaddled and the nurse puts his mouth to his surrogate’s breast and she’s working her breast. “The colostrum is hugely important for newborns” and the surrogate is an old hand at this. First one breast, then the other. She had to tickle Conrad V with her nipple to get him to suck. He just wanted to sleep. They had foot printed him and gave us copies. Then he went to the nursery and the surrogate was cleaned up and asked to rest.

“We know it’s corny, but we are so appreciative of the gift you’ve given us, so we got you a ‘push’ present” and we gave her a small jewelry box. Diamond studs. “If you do not like them or would prefer something different, there is a gift receipt in the bottom and Tiffany’s is aware and will do whatever you’d like, including allowing you to return them for cash. But she was already putting the earrings on. With a flick of her hair.

“This is perfect boys. A girl feels a little put out after birth, so now I feel like I at least look a little pretty” and she does. And we chat briefly and then let her rest. Stopping at the window to see Conrad. Sleeping. Boys in blue hats. Girls in pink. Bet the PC crowd will change that. Maybe they’ll ask the parent’s which color hat they’d like. I am literally exhausted. Emotionally stunned. Overcome with joy.

We stumble home via Uber. Announcing to all about Conrad V. Lots of chatter back, but really too much for right now. We shower together. Climb into bed. Kiss. “Good night, daddy” and pass out.
 

PDuvalEE

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Wow. The days fly by. Conrad – we decided we’d call him Rad for now. That morphed into Raddie. Champion eater. Took to those things like you wouldn’t believe. The surrogate was great.

“I’ll pump once I’m back in Utah and ship the milk next day air for you” and we nod. She knows we have a wet nurse, but she explained the milk can be frozen and used in a bottle after the wet nurse is through. “Formula should be a LAST resort, at least for the first year” and we nod. Anything she wants, we’d give her.

It’s amazing to hold my son. And he is mine. I made him. And they hand him to me and I have no idea what to do. His poops are like milky coffee colored. I love his penis. And the nurse teaches me how to clean it with a cotton swab. I’ve had at least a dozen discussions with Peter about how big it is. I even duckduckgo’d ‘size of a boys penis’ and that was a rabbit hole. Why it mattered, I do not know. But I wanted him to be more perfect than he already was. And Peter fawned over him. It was cloud nine.

And let me tell you. Fucking hell. I awoke to a lovely blow job and got rudely flipped over. “Daddy needs to fuck you and make another baby” and he jams that bat in and I was his wife and he was making a baby for me and I was so turned on. And I went all porn star and thrashed and worked his taint and pushed my ass onto him and got him on his back and bounced up and down on his cock and tweaked his nipples. “BREED ME!” and fuck all his lubed hand worked my dick and I could feel his cock brush my prostrate and he tickled my corona and my cock spit cum on his face and over his hair and it was all over. And I nestled my ass down on him as he bucked into me, breeding me. As asked.
 

PDuvalEE

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And our 3 way was totally hot. Way past my expectations. And there would be more, for sure. She came at least 8 times. And her pussy was delicious. And I got fucked while fucking her and I let Peter do all of the work. Really intense ejaculations.

Then it was back to work. The kids. The gym. Normal life. And it was great.

I’d gotten my upper body to the state I wanted – defined, but not body-builder. My legs I wanted more of, so I spent a lot of time doing squats. Made my ass hot. I really wanted to maintain my running and cardio, which I did, which slightly undid my squat work, but all in all the combined effort was working. For me anyway.

I don’t know how I got to be such a gym rat. B.P. (Before Peter) – it was a healthy competitive drive that wanted me bigger than other guys – and then the intense pleasure of the locker room and gym where I was typically the most hung. It strokes a guy’s ego. The other half of my motivation was the effect my body had on women. I wanted lust and got lots of quality pussy – and my cock made sure they stuck around – if I wanted them too. A.P., I just want to look good for my man.

They had a new trainer at the gym. He was handsome in a rugged way – and he was totally stacked. Not my type, but I could appreciate the effort he put into his body.

“Hey man, I’m Will, you have some great form. But I’d be interested in giving you a few pointers, if you’d like that?” and I look at him. Pointers? Me? I could write a book. Prick. But I wasn’t raised that way.

“Hey Will – I’m Conrad. Sure – pointers are always welcome” and he had a nice firm handshake. I resumed my squat and he moved my leg in an inch. And wow. It made a difference. He explained which muscle groups were being worked and why the little inch mattered. And I could feel it right away. And he worked with me the rest of my workout. Suggesting small adjustments. A tweak here and a tweak there. I appreciated his efforts and liked him.

Oddly, I do squats and bench presses – no idea how I started on that, as most people alternate days. Will was spotting me and damn. The view up his shorts was motivating. Nice looking cut cock. And I know if I can see it, it has to be a good size. We chat about stuff, getting to know each other. He’s a licensed PT and a licensed massage therapist. He has a girlfriend and they’ve been together since college. All in all a good dude.

He’s holding my ankles while I’m doing sit ups and he’s looking at me and then I feel my dick flop and I see his face when he sees it. He quickly looks left. “Hey, Conrad – compression shorts next time, okay?” and he smiles and looks at me. I feel my face get red. “Sorry man, forgot them this morning and I didn’t know I’d get a gym buddy.” And he smiles. “Looks like a nice one.” And I’m just staring at him.

Okay, awkward moment out of the way. He’s seen my cock and is okay with it – he’s straight. And I know he’s no shrimp himself. Why does it matter? I lay back. Exhausted. He stands up and gives me a hand pulling me up.

“Nice work-out. Well done. But hit the showers and alternate hot and warm water” and I look at him. Like, I know how to shower. And he explains the contrasting heat relaxes the muscles and allows them to heal better. So I do and it feels good. Huh. I thanked him for his help and asked his hours and days and I figured we could meet up again a few times a week.

“Schedule a massage, too. You will like it” and he winks at me as he goes to help another client.

Huh. He’s straight. I’m straight. Only I’m living with a man and I suck dick and fuck and get fucked. Fuck labels. But I definitely think Will was hitting on me.

We worked out a few times. Yes, I wore compression shorts. Only on like the 3rd or 4th time, I had compression shorts, but no regular shorts. So all I got was a massive long and sock cock looking liked a stuffed sock. Fucking embarrassing. But I didn’t have time to go back. I got this. No big deal. I look out of the locker room and I see Will and he catches my eye and I wave him over to me.

“Sorry man – I left my shorts at home – any chance you have a spare pair I could borrow. And he looks at my crotch and gets a big smile. “Damn boy – you are packing. Sure – I’ll get you are pair. Can’t have the ladies fainting on us. Or any of the guys” and he is chuckling.

He tosses me a black pair and I quickly put them on. And we go out and do our routine and chat and it’s fun.

“So like, I heard you had a kid and another on the way” and I nod. Always a touchy topic. “What does your wife do?” and I look at him and I decide he is just being inquisitive. “Umm. My husband owns Pete’s Tavern” and he smiles. He fucking knew. He is just busting my balls.

We continue our workout and I feel a little twinge in my shoulder. Will noticed my reaction and he moved his hands to my shoulder and massaged and asked questions and got me to rotate and flex in different ways, and spouted out some muscle which was in jeopardy. “No more work out for you today – c’mon, let me rub you down.” He starts off to the front desk and signs out a massage room, grabs a key and leads me over to the room.

“Strip off and take a quick warm shower” as he adjusts the water temperature in a stall shower. There is a massage table in the room and a side table with towels, different massage oils, rubber bands – Physical Therapy stuff. I’m a little awkward stripping naked in front of him.

“Dude, I’m a Physical Therapist. I work on nude guys and chicks every day – it’s clinical to me” and I nod slowly and I strain to get my shirt off, so he helps me pull it over my head. Then I got my shorts off okay, but the compression shorts – sweaty, smelly and gross, were hard to get off with my shoulder, it was like they were sprayed on. He helped me with those too. Only that’s not so good as he’s on his knees, face at my cock. Who likes being looked at by guys on their knees in front of him. Usually leads to some fun. I put my hand over to hide my semi and get into the shower. Embarrassing.

“That’s a damn fine cock you have there, Conrad. Good for you” and I rinse off and grab the towel and start to dry myself off. I’m doing this one handed as my shoulder really does hurt. Will sees me and helps me. “C’mon big boy, up on the table on your stomach” and he proceeds to rub me all over and I became trance like. Solid, strong hands. And a phenomenal technique. He’d work an area good and then slowly spread down an area and moved down further and counter-clock wise around my body. I was relaxed and kind of hard, but figured I was safe. His hands on my ass felt amazing. Then he pulled my left leg back and tried to get my foot as close to my shoulder as possible, really stretching me out. It also had the effect of pulling my cock off of the table and giving him one sterling view of my hard-on and my ass. I could have died of embarrassment. He must think I’m a fucking perv. But it felt good to show off for him.

Fucking hell. He lowered my leg back down and it did feel good and my cock liked the attention. Then long stokes on my left leg and his fingers splaying and covering my inner thigh and brushing my taint and getting preciously close to my love-button. I know, it’s gay, but fuck it if I didn’t want his hand to stroke my ass. Fuck. Then the other leg and then the stretch and my cock is hard and I feel pre-cum drip out. As he is holding my leg with his chest in a long stretch, I feel his hand feather touching my cock, just lightly. Like he was confirming if I had a penis. My balls were tight and I swear I could have cum right then and there. It felt so good.

My leg comes down and my mind is buzzing. WTF?!? But I know it feels good. And he is back to stroking my right leg and I love his finger brushing my taint. Teasing me. He pulls my leg up at my knee a little, and the other one, exposing my hole. “Can I work your glutes?” and I don’t know that I can speak. I am that stoked up. And I nod, and get out a squeaky “Yes, please” and he starts slow and wide on my ass. I’m sorry. My ASS just responded to his touch. I pushed back to him and lifted my hole closer to his fingers with every brush and then he’d move away and my ass would relax and then he’d be back and I’d raise my ass up, begging for his touch. He worked my ass and I felt his fingers lightly touching my cock. I whimpered. I could feel his fingers in a kind of large O and he assessed the length of my cock, not really feeling it, but just a little to tease me. And I pulled back, wanting him to feel the slime of the pre-cum I was oozing. But he was good and feathered his fingertips over my shaft and very tight balls. God it was like the hottest fucking gay massage I’ve ever had. He was like a maestro with my body. Fuck. He put my arms to my side and draped it over his leg, as he sat on the table, working my arm. The touch of his leg. The hair. The firmness. The warmth. Skin on skin; beautiful. Touching him. I was fucking ready to explode.

Then he worked on my shoulder and I was able to calm down a little bit. Fucking phew. Out of the danger zone. What is happening here? Will is straight and he was fucking playing my ass and my cock like an old French whore – not that I have any experience with that. Well I do, but that’s another story. Then he’s on to my head. Which feels great. And it’s a temple rub and all over the head and he moves his hands down my back and I can feel what has to be his cock or groin at my head. Fuck. I’ve already seen it, now I can feel it (kind of), and now I really want it. I feels so good.

“I’m going to lay on top of you now, so don’t get startled” and he climbs up on me and lays on top of me, arm on arm, leg on leg. His weight feels amazing. I’m imagining his cock at my crack. It feels so heavenly. He’s soft, but I push back up into him. Willing him to get hard. “Does this feel good?” and I wonder which part he is referring to. Yes, it feels fucking awesome. As I back my ass up into his cock and fuck fuck fuck. Please let that pressure be a little swelling.

“Just relax. Let me get hard and then if you’d like I will fuck you. Would you like that, Conrad” and I definitely feel some tightness back there. Fuck. My crack is on fire. “Yes, please” and after a minute, I can feel the full hardness of his cock. Will raises himself up and he must have had to adjust his boner, cuz when he went back down, his hard cock was smack up and down my ass crack. And fuck all bitch in heat, I started grinding into him. Fuck it felt awesome. Like every nerve was alive.

Will got up and I could hear him taking his short and pants off. “This is not happening” and I nod. He takes a condom from the drawer and puts it onto his very hard cock. Of course I turned over and fuck all that was a stick to be proud of. “Over here, knees on the bench, ‘doggie’” and I put my knees on the towels on the bench. He widened my legs to get my hole level to his cock and he lubed my ass up and I feel his cock at my hole. And he’s way off, by like an inch, and I am thinking ‘lousy aim’ and then I felt him slippery slide slowly and gently into me. It was like 2 or 3 minutes of penetration. Nothing passionate or rough or unpleasant about it. And I could feel that he was in me. And he lightly stroked my chest and nipples and back and arms. Anything but my cock. My taint got a brush. But my calves and thighs got more. And my neck and I loved feeling him in me and fuck all. He’s in and not doing much, but no pain. Nada. Wow. I need to practice that.

Then he does a few thrusts and yeah, gut-punches. But it felt good. He swatted my hand away from my cock. “Touch anything but your cock. Feel your body and my cock in you” and I’m all over. And we do a bunch and he pulls out. And he pulls me back to the table and asks me to lay down. Snot is dripping from my cock and I am red with desire. There is a huge wet spot on the paper on the table from before. Fuck. Then Will mounts me and ever so slowly enters me again and I feel his entire weight on me. Not moving too much, but the sensations are incredible. And we do that for a bit and I was like “I need to cum” and he nods and gets up off of me. He removed the condom and taps me “roll over” and he wipes his cock clean and gets another condom and rolls it onto my cock. He lubes up my cock and his ass and he positions himself on me. My cock head at his entrance. And he slowly – like 5 minutes, lowers himself only me. It was like ages until has ass was on my pubes. And he sat there and I pulled my legs up and worked his body. “Anywhere but the cock” and it was just beautiful. He was just rocking and rotating and damn. A few ups and downs. But I knew I was too keyed up and with a rubber on, I wasn’t cumming this way. I needed action.

Will enjoyed himself, his cock was flopping and very hard and it was all I could do to NOT touch it. And he looks into my eyes and pulls off of me and with a paper towels removes the condom. He puts a rubber glove on and lube it, and then lubes his cock and mine. And he slowly and gently inserts his finger. “That feel good?” and I nod, his finger tip massaging my prostrate. Then he had his hand, gently on my cock. Teasing it. Fingering it. And I’m off the table moving my dick to get the full attention of his hand. I desperately need him to start jerking me proper. I can feel spits of pre-cum. He moves my hand to his cock and said “Stroke” and I stroked him like I wanted to be stroked and my shoulders and ankles are holding the rest of my body off the table. The sensations were so off the charts. Fuck.

And then, fuck all, finally. He had my prostrate good and going and I’m jerking him like a two bit whore. And he’s on his toes, our cocks being worked together. “Cum, Conrad. Give it to me” and fuck all if I didn’t feel the biggest spurt of cum and fuck all it went all over and damn he came then too and I couldn’t think straight with beautiful shot after shot of cum.

Damn boy. As he removed his finger from my ass and started to towel me off. “Big shooter. Nice man” and I look at him like he’s an alien.

“What just happened?” and he’s smiling ear to ear.

“Dude – no big deal. As part of my PT training we had to do massage after massage. I got partnered with this gay Indian dude and he taught me a few tricks I thought you might enjoy” and I’m just looking at him. WTF?
 

PDuvalEE

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It was awkward, but it wasn’t. We took turns showering – too small to do it together. He cleaned up the room, turning the HVAC on high to get the sex smell out. It reeked. I put my shorts on, but not my compression. Will got dressed too. Now that was kind of gross. “Let’s hit the locker room and have a proper shower and then change to street clothes” and I nod at Will.

“I need to buy you a beer and you need to do some talking” and he smiles and nods. He really was cute and I had a new appreciation for him and our friendship. Wow, that was some of the hottest sex I’d ever had. Not love, mind you. SEX. Wow.

We made it to the locker room, stripped down again, and made our way to the showers. I could look at his body unabashedly now, so I did. “Sweet cock, Will. Nice one” and he smiles and helicopters me. “Yours works pretty well for you, too” and I chuckle and nod. And fuck. I just fucked him. Only it wasn’t much of a fuck. It wasn’t intended to achieve an orgasm. It was just a showing – a teaching of how to penetrate a man.

The giddiness I felt was contagious and Will was all smiles, too. Fucking hell this was so much damn fun. And I’m thinking – Will is actually my first real friend in Philly. Oh there is Derek and Pam and Sammie. But Will I made on my own. And damn was I going to keep him. His pointers on my form alone were enough to have a friendship. His fingers, mind and body and what he could do to me with them was just too hot. And I am actually really looking forward to telling Peter all about it and then, more importantly, showing him what I learned.

We grab our stuff and I lead him over to Pete’s. I caught Peter’s eye as we walked in and I had a shit eating grin on my face and I saw it register on Pete’s face. He smirked and had that “I know what you just did look” and Will and I sit at the bar. He’s met Will at the gym, but this was our first socializing together.

“Hey man. Do I even want to ask?” as he places two beers in front of us. You get what you get at Pete’s – and this was the lager he knows I prefer. Just hope it’s okay for Will.

“Oh, yeah, baby – you most definitely want to know.” And I gave him an edited and abbreviated version of the events of the last few hours and then let Will share his side.

“It was kind of hard to figure out how it all came about. I knew Raj was gay – he was pretty open. We, for like 6 weeks, gave each other massages as we memorized anatomy and what each muscle did. We needed to know it anyway, so the hands on approach was really effective. He asked about a girl I was dating at the time, and I asked him about any boyfriends. And he just shook his head, explaining that American men just didn’t know how to fuck, how we were all about the dick” and Pete is ignoring the bar he is that into this. “And I actually laughed at that – I was like, Raj – pretty sure American men are for the most part pretty good fuckers. And he was shaking his head, explaining he’d fucked around a bit and everyone sucked. That it was physical. In and out and no concentration on tension, pleasure and ‘stoking the flames’ as he called it”. And I don’t know about Peter, but I was def getting hard again.

“So then he explained Karma Sutra and other Oriental Arts as he called them and explained how your lover, if he wants to excite a man, should ignore the cock. Focus on anything else and everything else. Use the sense of touch to amaze and tease. Test and build desire. Lightly stroke the taint, and then focus on his chest or nipples. Any skin would do. Brush his cock, then move away. Tease the shit out of your partners ass. Build up the desire. Tease. And he had me. I was so fucking hard listening to him. And he basically did what me and Conrad just did and it fucking blew my mind. Biggest orgasm of my then 21 year old life. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not ‘gay’, but I got a new appreciation for the male body and how to get it fired up.” And Pete is just smiling and he can see my cock. And I can see his hard-on.

“And for a few select friends, I’m happy to teach them. I figured since Con here was getting banged by you, I’d be safe – if he wanted to go there. And he was a most willing participant and he learned VERY quickly. Should be a nice night for you guys tonight.” And he got up patted my shoulder and said he’d “see us around” and left. Two straight guys with very erect penises. Damn.
 

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We recreated what Will and I did this afternoon. Complete with a massage and playing it cool. Peter really enjoyed it, if his leaky cock was any indication. He loved the slow fuck and not stroking our cocks. “Who’d of thought. I mean, I love a good bang, but damn. That was hot.” and we just relax in our spent passion.

I mean – it’s a perfect life. To truly be in love with a guy. Craving time with him, missing him when he leaves a room. I love watching him drink coffee, hanging out in his bathrobe. He’s such a dude. I love looking for his cock. Or admiring his ass when he goes for a refill. I guess I really am gay – but whatever.

Peter’s baby is due in about 6 weeks and we are very excited. Everything at home is fine and there I less pressure on the 2nd one as we already have stuff we need, plus the nanny and nurse and it should be good. I literally cross my fingers every time I think about the sex. I really really want the baby to be a boy. Girls are cute and all, but I can understand and relate to a guy. At least I hope so.

We are sold on his name – I think it’s really cool. We are just fucked if she’s a girl. No idea about names or what to do. Fingers crossed again.

And same drill as before. Bags packed, ready to go. Surrogate flies in and stays in the guest room. We get an assistant for her, so we aren’t burdening the housekeeper. Nanny has her hands full, too. Same 3:00 a.m. Braxton Hicks false alarm. Same 5:00 “Let’s roll”. Same quick shower, and get into the Uber. Same private room. We even recognized some of the doctors and nurses. We weren’t this close to this surrogate, but she was nice enough. Long labor. Lots of work. Finally, the doctor is yelling “PUSH, PUSH” and yep. That smell and then we hear a cry and again I’m gut punched. Bringing a baby into the world. My Peter’s baby.

“A bouncing baby boy. Let’s get him checked over and cleaned up. He appears to be perfectly normal. As the doctor checks him over and listens to his heart. He’s cleaned and swaddled and I have my arms around Peter and my cheeks are wet. Woods played with her nipple, and the nurse massaged the surrogate’s breast to get the colostrum flowing. But the little guy was tired. He was passed to Peter and Peter literally broke down. Huge tears and a massive smile. “He looks just like you” and I shake my head. My sister looks nothing like me. “I am sure he’ll take after you” and Peter hands him delicately to me, and then moves into a hug.

Back and forth to the hospital over the next few days. Same “push present” of diamonds, and they were appreciated. Then we all went home. The four of us as our family. Brooks at age one was just starting his words and was mildly interested in this thing that so seemed to take up so much of our time. We sure spent time with him, too, making sure he was included. Same Nanny shooing us out to let the guy sleep. It was boring and exciting at the same time.

“So what’s next?” as me and Peter were grabbing a quick lunch. “What do you mean?” and I look at him. How can he not be on the same page as me. “Three or four and when?” and he nods.

“We have plenty of time on the biological clock. Let’s give it a year to enjoy the two we have, and then go for twins – one of each.” And I smile and nod. Cool. Brooks and Woods a year apart and twins two years after. They will be terrors in High School. Never mind college…

Jean comes in and lets us know that we have a visitor. Odd, as we weren’t expecting anyone and most of our friends just barge in – as we’ve instructed them to do. Can’t stick on formalities when we’ve both fucked most (all) of our friends.

A super sexy tall brown-haired guys is standing there with a bag over his shoulder. He can’t be more than 16. He and Peter have locked eyes. So he’s obviously here for Peter. I was waiting for a lead or a signal on how to proceed. But I got nothing. “This is silly – Hello guy, I’m Conrad, and who are you?” and the guy is looking at me and Peter clears his throat. “He’s my cousin Peggy’s kid. Clayton. But he’s supposed to be in Montana, so it can’t be him. What’s up Clay?” and Clay just looks at the floor and has an “aw shucks” look, but when he resurfaced, he had tears in his eyes.

“Momma kicked me out” and I look at him and at Peter. “Why?” and he looks at me. “I was caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing with a friend, Momma found us and started screaming and saying I was going to hell and she screamed at me to get out of her house. It was all I could do to get me some clothes. Old Mrs. Tyler lent me money to get out here. At first I didn’t know where to go, but you and your parents were always so nice to me. So I came here.”

I made a mental note to send money to Mrs. Tyler. Sounds like a good woman. “What did your mother find you doing which was so upsetting?” I ask him.

“She caught me having sex” and I bristled at that. “Clayton, you are young, but sex is beautiful and part of life and nature. I am sorry that your mother couldn’t handle that. You are most welcome to stay here with us until we can find something else or talk your mother into some reason.” And Peter looks at me, then at Clayton.

“Who were you having sex with Clay?” and Clayton gets a nervous look in his eyes. Scared for shit. Poor kid. “Just a friend.” And I nod. Fine. Simple. “This friend have a name, and what exactly did you get caught doing?” and he’s shuffling his feet.

“My football buddy, Luke. And he was fuckin' me doggie and Momma was supposed to be out but she came back and it’s been really hard.” Silence. Ah. That would explain Momma’s reaction. Shit.

“Was he a boyfriend?” asked Peter gently. “Nah. We just played ball and fucked to relieve tension. I’d just fucked him and he was taking his turn. Girls don’t put out in Montana like they used to. Too religious now. So us guys help each other out. At least some of us do. I don’t care if it’s a sin. It feels good and sometimes I just need to get off – bad, like.”

“So do you think you like guys? Or do you like guys and girls, or just girls?” and he’s looking at both of us.

“I thought you guys were gays and would understand. Momma was always bitching about how you was going to hell for living in sin.” Well he has a chip on his shoulder.

“Please answer my question.” Peter says, evenly. That’s his pissed off mode. Clay may want to speed up his answer.

“I like girls. But I know what feels good to my dick and I don’t mind helping a buddy out if he’ll help me out – and keep his mouth shut. Johnny D told everyone how he fucked Trevor and that got Trevor beat up and Johnny D was made to leave the team. So none of us wanted that.”

Fuck, what a world away from Philly.

“Clayton, you are welcome to stay with us. Let me show you to a guest room. Please shower and get freshened up and come join us for a bite.” And I show him the way. “Bring your clothes down and we’ll get them washed and cleaned. And after lunch, we need to go shopping and get you better set up.” And he just nodes. Cute kid. He’s gonna break some hearts.

Peter is pensive when I get back. “Not sure about this, Con. Peggy is bad news, always has been. Religious freak and her drunk husband beat her until her dad drove him off. I think they last lived in a trailer in the middle of nowhere. He’s bound to be fucked up and I’m not sure I want the aggravation right now.” And I reach out my hand to his.

“Peter, he doesn’t need to move in. But you are duty bound to get him settled and to let him be supported by family at this time. We have the room and we have the time. He need us and what’s his alternative? Foster care? That’ll fuck him up even more.” And he nods.

A clean Clayton comes in, wet hair tossed around. Too small T-shirt and pants that had seen better days. I had Jean bring him some lunch, and then another, as he ate it so quickly. “Slow down – Clay. When was the last time you had eaten?” and he looks at me. “Wednesday”. Today was Saturday morning. “What happened?” and he looks at me. “I got robbed at a bus station in Cleveland and the fuckers took all of my money.”

“Jean – can you keep the food coming, and how about a glass of milk?” and he ate and ate. Like a lot. We are both still young, but I remember being 16 and being able to eat tons and I’d be hungry like an hour later.

“How old are you, Clay? And can I call you Clay or do you prefer Clayton?” and he eyes me, seeing an ally “Clay is fine” in between bites. His table manners are atrocious. Food everywhere. Well we can train him as we train Brooks and Woods. Finally he’s done, and I tell him to use the restroom and to get ready to go shopping. I figured we’d hit some of the hip teen stores downtown. Peter had stuff to do at the bar, so it was just the two of us.

“I really appreciate all that you and Pete are doing for me. I know you don’t have too – but I appreciate it. And, like, I don’t have any money to buy any clothes.” And I look at him. “Let me worry about that for now, and let’s talk about an allowance when we get back. Every boy should have an allowance to learn how to manage money.” And he smiles. Like it’s the first time in a long time.

We get to Abercrombie & Fitch and fuck, if I was gay, I’d do this guy – oh, right. This totally hot, buffed out, studly teen with ripped shirt, awesome abs and a bis ass package and bubble ass comes up and gives Clayton the eye. Slow up and down, checking him out. Hmm.

“Hi there. I’d like to get some clothes for my nephew – a new wardrobe for school and dinners out. Can you help us out? You look like you have good taste.” And he looks at me and flashes a bright white smile. Fucking shit on a stick. My dick chubs up. He has a cute, manly voice, and we walk around and grab pants and shirts and quarter zips. Tons of clothes. “Follow me” and we head back to a dressing area, partitions with curtains for privacy. “Try these on first and we can see if that’s a good base and we got the sizes right.” And the guys hands Clay a pair of pants and a shirt “This one, too” and the guy and I are on the outside while Clay strips down and puts the new clothes on, and steps out of the curtain.

The guy does an appraising look and checks the length and waist and fucking hell, I see him feel the crotch. “Too tight?” and Clay smirks at his coping a feel and repliess, “No, just perfect.” And the clerk turns to me and takes 3 pairs of pants and says, "Can you get this one size larger in the waist and length, we’ll stay here and try the others on.” Great. I appreciate the efficiency. So I go back and I don’t know the store so it took a few minutes and then I had to rummage through piles of clothes. I find another pair that I liked, thinking I’d get it for Peter, then head back to the dressing room. As I approach the closed curtain, I see the soles of a pair of sneakers, with the guy, obviously on his knees. Well, I think. He’s obviously very efficient and is checking the fit properly. So I pull the curtain back and freeze. Clayton gets bug eyed and pulls his big hard cock out of the guys mouth and pulls up his underwear. Shop guy gets up and, cool as a cucumber, hands Clayton the new pairs and tells him to try them on. Shop guy gives me some shirts and asks for different sizes. I’m shell shocked. Well, we knew Clay was sexually active – it’s how he got to us. I just didn’t think he’d be THAT active.

I get the shirts and come back and I see the soles again. Fuck it. I pull the curtain back and Clay has his eyes closed and is face fucking shop guy, who I see move his hand to Clay’s balls and Clay throws his head back and hisses “YES” and he pumps into him. I put the clothes down and back away. Fuck. I’m hard. Fuck. Hard to judge when that was hot!

I acted like nothing happened and we collected the stuff Clayton liked and we pay. I see the shop guy and Clay swapping numbers. I mean, I guess Clay could do worse. He sure is a looker.

Outside, we walk slowly to the next spot. “Clay, we need to talk about this, you know.” And he looks at me like WTF? And I sign. “Clayton, it is not acceptable nor is it safe to have unprotected sex with a stranger.” And Clay looks at me. “He started it. Did you see him feel me up. He said he knew I was horny and he’d help me out” and I shake my head.

“We’ll bring you to some parties and introduce you to some kids your own age and you can maybe find a girlfriend or a buddy to help you out. Strangers aren’t safe. And you need condoms."

We get to Hollister and another hot dude comes up to help us out, seeing our full and large A&F bags. “Watch it, Clay” and same kind of deal, we select stuff and go to the dressing room. It’s like only hot teenagers can work in here. This one, I could tell, was clearly into Clay and he kept looking at Clay’s crotch. Great.

We tried stuff on and Clay suggested I get different sizes and I get back – faster this time, and the Hollister guy is stroking his hard cock along with Clay’s. Clay is much bigger. Eight inches to the other guys six.

“Okay, guys. Enough of that, please.” And the Hollister guy is clearly disappointed at having to stop. Clay whispers in his ear and he giggles. Great. We get kitted out, pay and again numbers are swapped. Guy's a regular gay lothario. He got more action in like 2 hours then I did in all of age 16. Not really, but still. And a pushy fucker, too.

We get home and I give the clothes to Jean to run through the wash and Clayton goes up to his room. Peter can see I’m upset about something. “What’s up man?” and I look at him.

“Let’s go for a walk” and I get up and go to the door, expecting him to follow. It is indeed very unusual. I thought about sitting on “our” bench in the triangle, but figured we should get out of site.

“Peter, look. I know it’s ironic, perhaps, but Clay fooled around with both of the shop assistants, one at A&F and another at Hollister.” And Peter smiles. “Cool, good for him. Hope they were hot chicks, he could use a friend.” And I shake my head. “They were two very hot dudes. The A&F guy was blowing him in the dressing room – I interrupted after being sent for better sizes. I made them stop. When I got back, again, Clay was at the end of his efforts, eyes closed and head back, and I just stepped back and let him finish. We paid and got out of there and I explained how it wasn’t safe to have sex with strangers. Then we get to Hollister and I find him getting his cock – he’s hung, btw – fisted with the Hollister dude's much smaller cock. I made them stop. The little fuckers swapped number anyway.” And I felt a relief. A problem shared is a problem halved.

Peter didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. “So he is probably gay. He is 17. Let him have some fun.” And I’m like incredulous. “We are in loco parentis. We cannot condone inappropriate behavior. Including getting his rocks off with strangers. It’s just not safe” and he looks at me. “Yeah, but it will piss Peggy off, that skank.” And he leads us back to the house.

Clay was there and from the look, I am pretty sure he knew that we were talking about him.
 

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“Hey guys. Any chance I can have Chris sleep over tonight? He just texted me if I wanted to hangout, but I don’t know the city, so hanging here would be best. And you know we’ll stay up late watching movies, so it’ll be late when he has to go home. Or if he has to go home, then we’ll have a crap time.” And he does puppy dog ears at Peter. I’ll let him deal with this.

“Sure, Clay. Have one of his parents call me on my cell so we can just confirm everything” and a few minutes later Peter’s phone rings and he has a pleasant enough conversation. “Seems like he’s from a nice family” and that was that. A few minutes later, Chris (not Abe) rings the doorbell. Clay rushes down to answer it. He leads Chris into meet Peter and to be properly introduced to me. I knew he blew Clay, but he doesn’t know that I know.

I tell them to make themselves at home and they rummage around in the kitchen. Peter retired to his study, and I left the living room couch to the boys to watch a movie. I hear them giggling and having a good time. I head down the hall to get a drink from the kitchen and Clay is getting up off the couch, in his boxers, from under a duvet. He has a massive boner. Great. I retreat, and go back in after a few minutes. Chris and Clay are snuggled together. Clay holding onto Chris’s chest. No doubt grinding his cock into Chris’s ass. I can see movement. I mean, I’ve been there. He is totally dry humping Chris. On my couch. Almost too much. I chat a little, but they are watching the movie. I see what I bet is Clay’s hand moving back and forth, right where Chris’s cock no doubt is hard. Fucking hell. They are getting each other off in front of me. I sit at the kitchen table, within hearing distance, but out of sight.

I hear a few moans, stifled, and I can hear the duvet being worked. And a little squeak. And a muffled Fuuuuucccckkkk. Shit. The mother fuckers, or boyfriend fuckers, just got off on my couch. And I’m hard and alone trapped in the kitchen. Fuck. I tuck my boner into the waist band of my boxers and beat a hasty retreat to find Peter. And the place stunk of boy spunk. Great. What have we gotten ourselves into.
 

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Peter is surprised and happy to see me and I stick my cock into his mouth to be serviced. Then I get a little more loving and stroke his hair and face and in no time, I’m ready to shoot, and I do and it provided relief.

“We need to have a little chat about your nephew tomorrow” and Peter looks at me. “Oh, what’s he done now?” and I look at him. “Chris, on my couch” and I smirk at him and go and sit down.

“Well he’s an active little fucker. Would you rather him fucking Chris in a back alley? Think about it. Here he is safe and we can monitor risky behavior. Remember when you were 16? With that fucking bat I am sure you were every father’s worst nightmare.” And I smile. “True. Got the old stinky pinky at 13 and damn, I was hooked after that” and Peter smiles at me. “Yeah, good times.” And I’m like, okay. "But that only led to the risk, really, of pregnancy. We don’t know either of these boys. And he’s 16 and engaging in gay sex with strangers. We’ll need to talk about it and set some parameters."

I go into the kitchen, much refreshed, and Chris is on top of Clay and they are making out – like 16 year old’s. Fuck. I actually stopped and watched and then moved on. Voyeur I did not want to be. This was kind of moving too fast for me. I mean, I had backseat sex, such as it was, running the bases, but no one’s parents said “come on in and fuck my daughter, please.” So this didn’t feel right.

We ate, we left them alone and the evening wore on. The room had a fung and funky smell of sex again, so clearly they’d gotten each other off again. Fucking studs. They’d break our record at this pace. Damn. And I smiled, but that’s sick. He is your child, in effect. This isn’t safe.

At 11:00, Peter and I retired with warm “Good night, boys, don’t stay up too late!” and we have some fun of our own. Around 12:30 I got up to pee and went out to check on the boys, and Chris was laying into Clay, doggie style, on the couch. Cute little ass pounding away, his hands on Clay’s waist. “Harder, man – c’mon, get me off” and I see Chris reach down to stroke Clay. He then flips him into missionary and resumes his fuck, while stroking Clay. “Close, man” and my hand is on my hard cock. Which actually hurt from fucking Peter earlier. I feel a presence at my side. And hands pulling me back into our room. “Leave them be” and we climb into bed.

I woke again around 3:00 and really. I had to go check. So I tip-toed out of our room and the couch, mercifully, was empty. I tip toed over to the guest room and there was gentle creaking from the old bed. No mistaking it. “Yeah, Clay. Just like that. Work my pussy” and I shake my head. Fucking stud. He’s gonna be wiped out tomorrow. Fuck. This could get messy.

I climb back into bed. “they asleep” whispers the man of my life. “Nope. Chris is fucking Clay, apparently” and I roll over and somehow managed to get to sleep.

Now, Jean is a saint. And she’s looked after us and cleaned up many a man-sex mess. So she did. “The duvet is just in the dryer, it will be dry shortly” and she smiles. Presuming we left that awful sex mess for her. “I’ve cleaned the leather off, too. Something seemed to have spilled. And I thank her and smile. Yes, what spilled is 16 year old boy juice. And I shake my head. Easier to not clarify the origin.

We run some errands and get back around noon and around 1:30 a very flush faced, just fucked look and all, Clay and Chris re-appear, looking like the just fucked saints they’d like us to think they are. By my count, that’s five orgasms yesterday and at least one very recently. My dick plumps up in jealously.

“Chris needs to get to work, so I’m going to walk him over” as Jean grabs some bagels and puts some peanut button on them, which the boys grabs and bite into as they leave. Ah, to be young. Wait, we are young.

About an hour later. Really? Another dressing room suck off? A&F is like 10 minute walk, tops.

“Hey Clay, can we chat for a little bit?” and Clay stops and does a tentative nod, and comes in to find a smiling Peter and a pissed off me.

“I do not find your activities of last night to be acceptable. They are not safe, and are too much for a 16 year old boy. You are growing and it may be hard for you to find the mental capacity to handle your actions. And the emotions you feel towards Chris. Did you want to talk about it?” And Clay smirks at me. “Look man, jut getting off. Chris is nice. I’ll do him again for sure. But he’s not my boyfriend or anything.” And I look at Peter.

“Then how do you define your relationship?” and Clay looks at me. “He’s just a fuck piece”
 

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“Clay, that is really not an acceptable way to speak about someone you made love to several times, I would imagine, last night.” And I am glaring at him.

“He means nothing to me and he got me off and I got him off to return the favor. No big deal. Can I go now?” and I look at Peter.

“Clay – that’s exactly the wrong answer. We all have raging hormones, and the normal course is to find people we have a connection with. People we enjoy. And as the relationship progresses, we feel more comfortable about sharing more of our bodies and our emotions with them. That’s healthy. That’s what you need. You do not need a ‘fuck piece’” and I’m pissed now.

“You have no fucking idea who I am or what I need. I fucked him and he fucked me. No biggie. Can I go please?” and he’s getting pissed. But we need to clear the air. This is not healthy.

“Well you are correct, Clay. We do NOT know you and we do not know your needs. Why don’t you enlighten us?” and I’m glaring just as hard back.

He pauses. And Looks left then right. “I was a fucking hooker back home. I’d fuck or get fucked by anyone for a buck. My ass and my cock was all I had to feed myself. My bitch ass mother was drunk all of the time and it was hard enough to pay the rent and get food. Some rancher wants to stick his dick up my ass. No biggie. He wants a blow job. Sure. $20. $20 buys a lot in Montana. So I’m not some virginal newbie and Chris is a good fuck, even if he didn’t pay me. Yet. He promised he’d pay next time.”

Peter and I are open mouthed. Yep, like flies buzzing in and out. Peter stands up and walks up to him and pulls him into a hug. I sit there like a lug, processing.

“I am so sorry, Clay. Why didn’t you call me?” and Peter has tears and leans back to look at Chris. “Cuz you are the Devil Incarnate” and he looks at me. “Or so my bitch of a mother said every time I wanted to call the family back East.” You see a slight bit of sunshine in a dark demeanor.

“I was holding us together. I did my part for the family. Then I got caught and the bitch was thankless.”

Peter pulled him into a hug. Fuck. Like I need this.
 

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Brooks comes rushing in at that moment, Nanny at his heals. “Who this?” he points his pudgy finger at Clay, as Peter stands away from Clay. “He’s your Uncle Clay. He is going to stay here for a little bit, won’t that be nice.” And Brooks processes that. And Clay leans down to his level and puts his arms out.

“Come here, big guy, and let me give you an Uncle hug” and Brooks smiles and does that. He loves hugs. And to get and give raspberries. It’s his new thing. All wet and spit going everywhere. Raspberry his tummy and he squeals with laughter. And Clay does a few “Whoopsie Daisies” and tosses Brooks in the air, making him squeal again. Then Clay put him down and Brooks takes his hand. Putting his finger into his mouth.

“Like” he says. And Nanny says it’s time to go and Brooks leans into Clay’s leg. And I’m like, well fuck it. Kids are intuitive judges of character. If my son likes Clay, then I will give Clay a chance. Or enough rope to hang himself.

Brooks and Nanny leave and I motion for us to sit again.

“Look, Clay. We will work on some ground rules so that you will have the freedom of being your own person – in OUR house. I respect what you’ve had to go through and it’s admirable. However, it’s dangerous for you. We need to get you some help and we need you to want to get help.” And I look at him.

“And we need you to get help as a condition for staying here. This is our home and our life and, frankly, you are a bit fucked up. That CAN be fixed, and if you accept help, it WILL be fixed. Can you do that, for me?” and I look at him again.

“What kind of help?” and I look at Peter. “There are a few people I need to consult. But at a minimum, you probably need a therapist to talk about your experiences, your motivation and to help you re-direct to being a 17 year old boy living in Philly. I know it may not sound great, but the alternative is that you would need to leave here and us. And a life on the streets, as you experienced in Cleveland, is not pleasant. Will you do that? Let us help you save yourself? God, anyone can tell you are really smart. You could do great things in this world. Will you let us help you?” and you can see the wheels turning.

I mean, I get it. Last week he was in rural Montana, charging by the fuck or suck to make ends meet. To get food. He takes a bus after being expelled from his family – that HAD to hurt. He gets robbed in Cleveland. And then he’s in the lap of luxury, getting laid left, right and center. My head would be spinning in 360 degree spins. With vomit spewing out.

And we see him straighten his back. And breath in deeply. “I guess I don’t really have much choice” and we both smile and stand up and hug him – 3 way.

“Let me make some calls. What I need you to do is SLOW DOWN. It’s perfectly normal to jerk off a few times a day at your age. But until we can get a program in place, I do not want you fucking or being fucked. It might feel good, but do more damage than good. I promise you, it will only be for a few days. And if necessary, I will relieve you of your phone. So be good, okay?” and I pull his eyes towards mine. He nods. “Cool. And if you behave, as a reward let me upgrade that phone to a new iPhone, okay?” And his eyes light up.
 

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Fuck. What to do now. Dad. So I call him and bring him up to date. Of course, he knows just who to call (his lawyers) and then the mental health doctors at the local hospitals and universities. Money wasn’t discussed, but it was clear, money was no object to fix this kid.

I talked to a few doctors and liked one in particular, who agreed to come by that night for dinner. With Clay. Peter and I went out. Giving them some privacy. We were pleased with ourselves for having set something up so quickly and hopefully it would work. We had a nice dinner and came home to find Clay watching TV. The doctor apparently long gone.

“How was the doctor? Did you like him?” and Clay looks at us. “He had the smallest fucking dick I’ve ever seen, but a nice tight ass. He said he couldn’t help me and left” and I look at Peter. “You mean?” and Clay looks at me. “Cost him $200 to get fucked. He was such a fucking size queen. I stroked him off when I came. I may get some new clothes. Want to come along?” and I look at Peter. Fuck. “How did this happen?” I ask?

“Well, the asshole asked about me, and I said I had a big fucking cock and I liked fucking ass and I charged for it to get what I needed to live. He got excited in a perverted way. Kept tugging at his little willie. And he asked how much, and I said I’d have to charge him $200 and he opened his wallet, handed me cash, and dropped his pants. Right over there.” He said, pointing to our kitchen table. Fuck. “If I’d known how minuscule his dick was, I could have charged more.”

So, well, maybe, not such a good start. “Clay – that is wrong and you know it. He was here to help you.” And Clay looks at me. “No, HE was fucked in the head and couldn’t wait for a guy like me to nail his fucking ass. He is such a hypocrite and you hold him in esteem because he is a doctor. Well, I had his number – met his type before. Fucking prays on guys like me to get off. Whatever.”

Peter leans in. “Well, then we will have to do better tomorrow, won’t we. Perhaps I’ll bring the Woods in for a little more local expertise.”

And my mind is spinning. But it made sense, in a logical kind of way. Small dicked doctor likes it up the ass. How best to identify them – safely, and get them to nail you – then to administer care to them. Sounds very like a Catholic priest scenario. I would be making some calls tomorrow. That’s fucking disgraceful. I wouldn’t put Clay on the spot, but I would sure as hell lodge a complaint. Clay could handle it. The doctor’s next victim, maybe not so much.
 

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So head spins, all the while that we have two babies and a house full of help and two people with careers/businesses to run. Yeah, Peter could have hired a sub – but we knew how critical being hands on was to the business. People came because they always have. And their parent’s before them. They wanted a local, and they wanted a beer from Pete at Pete’s. Plus, he was a fucking rock start and got everyone horny. I’ll have to commission a private survey. Did looking at Peter or being served by him or talking to him make a) your panties wet or b) your dick at least expand? It would be fun. Peter would kill me.

Peter talked to a few doctors, and recounted, with a name, the previous experience. I filed a motion with the state medical board. Let them deal with it. Clay wanted Chris to come over, but I firmly said no. We were working to find the right people to help, asking many, many questions along the way.

I was talking to my mother, who I filled in some details with. She insisted we get him enrolled in a private school – and she knew just the one. And, to her everlasting credit, she knew someone who knew someone who could be a coach for Clay. Calls were made, the network was worked. And I had a call from St. John’s School for Boys (Episcopal). I agreed to a time to meet the head master. I was VERY candid in who we were, and more importantly, what we knew about Clay. Clay met the head master the next day. It was agreed he’d board for the weekdays, and return to us for the weekend. Clay actually seemed intrigued; excited.

We went to the tailors and got his uniform. “What do I need in my room?” and we consulted the list. Boarding schools are much more restrictive now a days, and more so than college. We got risers for his bed. And an air conditioner. And lots of food. He had a computer, iPhone (new) and an iPad. “Don’t fuck it up. Don’t do drugs. Don’t get kicked out” and I gave him a hug and went up with him to discover his room.

He was on the second floor and it was a small room. Half was decorated in guy stuff. Concert posters. Football. Crap all over. Dirty laundry. Stuff on Clay’s bed. Teenager stuff living away. We got him set up and I could tell he was excited. “Look, Clay. You have a LOT more experience than a lot of the boys here. Do NOT take advantage of that. Half of the fun is sneaking a quick jerk when your roomie is asleep or you are in the shower. As much as you might feel a guy may want to ‘help out’ – you don’t know these guys and you wouldn’t want it to end badly. This is a great school for you and a feeder for some of PA’s best schools” and he looks at me. “I’ll need a scholarship wherever I go, and my grades are so bad, there is no chance of that.” And I pause and look at him.

“If you get and maintain a 3.5 or higher, I’ll get Peter to pay for you wherever you want to go.” And he looked at me. Like a spark of hope. “Deal?” and he hugged me. “Deal, man. That’s so fucking awesome.” And then his roomie walked in. Fuck.

Of course. Totally. He had to be the star football quarterback. Yep. Sure. No dweeby dork here, so Clay could study. Nope. Fucking stud with swag. Fuck. This was NOT good. He came in and he smiled a million dollar smile “You must be Clayton?” and my knees are weak, I can only imagine Clay. “Yeah man, nice to meet you, what’s your name?” And he smiles. Fuck. “Travis. Didn’t you know? I’m the QB for the team and we are 8 and 0 so far, best season in years. Which is why I had a single. But you apparently are a hot shot, so they decided I needed to get a roomie. I’m not pissed or anything, but, like, privacy was cool.” And he turns to me.

“Hello, I’m Travis Rogers. You must be Clay’s brother?” and I look at him. I’d blow him in heartbeat. He had that ‘Fun’ vibe. “Ah, I’m kind of an uncle – Clayton Smythe-Worthington” and he whistles and smiles. “Damn, Clay. I scored with you. Didn’t know you was a Smythe-Worthington. Cool.” And Clay smiles. “I’m a Rogers, and also a Woods. But my uncle is…” and stopped. Lost as to how best to explain us. I figured let me get this out of the way.

“Peter Woods is Clay’s uncle. He owns Pete’s Tavern. We are a couple and in love, although we really both self-identify as straight.” I hold up a hand. “I know it’s odd – but we both appreciate women, we are both just in love with each other. So, long story short – yes, Clay is part of my Smythe-Worhtington clan, and presuming you guys become friends, which I hope you do, then you will be a friend of ours as well. And I am looking forward to your games – Pete is a football fanatic!” and he looks at me and smiles.

“You didn’t need to clarify that for me, but thank you for doing so. It alleviates the awkwardness if I’d asked Clay about it later. Totally cool man. But you have a boyfriend but you are straight?” and I look at him and do a shoulder shrug? “It is what it is, man.”

And I say my goodbyes and let them get settled in. It’s either going to be great or a shit-show.
 

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“Fucking hell, Con – he’s hung like a fucking bull and he can fuck for hours. I could barely walk to class.” And I’m processing that. Not sure if that’s good or bad, but I play neutral.

“Take it slow, Clay. A new world out there” and I hear a sigh. “I think I’m in love” and fuck all. Teenagers.

“Clay – its puppy love. Enjoy it, but know it will end. And protect yourself. How were classes?” changing the subject. And his answers were surprisingly well rounded. He liked his teachers and the kids and he’d met a few he thought he could like and he said he was happy. He joined the Ultimate Frisbee team and said it was really hard, and then explained how physical it was. And that he was on the football team, just wasn’t sure about his position yet. Cool, I thought. Good for him. But getting fucked by his roommate for hours? Good idea, or no?

Well, they did. Fuck and fuck again, apparently. And Travis lost his first game. So they strategized. And worked together as a team. What went wrong? The opposers were inherently a better team. Their team was staffed with PG-ers (post-graduate players retaking senior year) and they were older and bigger. And by implication, dumber. They creamed them. But it was an honorable loss. Travis wasn’t open about Clay – but we could see the connection, and it was real.

Fast forward and the initial grades were in and they were stellar for Clay. Almost perfect. Amazing. Wow – like – totally cool. And he asked if Travis could spend Friday night with us, before his Saturday game. Same deal – I asked for a parent to call me. Which they did, and they were great folks. Older, like 45 or so, and surprised when they dropped Travis off that we were in our 20’s and in this mansion, and then you saw the click of the Smythe-Worthington and Woods money. Smiles all around. Their boy liked Clay and Clay was helping Travis with his grades – also up. And connections were connections. Not sure if they knew Travis liked dudes, but I somehow avoided that for now.

And fuck, 1:15 and POUNDING. The whole house had to hear it. Fuck. Travis must be pounding the SHIT out of Clay. I gave them 10 minutes. Then 15. Then 20. It’s 1:35. They have a game tomorrow. I got up, pissed off, and walk to Clay’s room and Travis has his legs on Clay’s shoulders begging “Don’t cum yet, baby, fuck me hard, make me your bitch, make it last longer” fuck fuck fuck and Clay is slamming into his ass. His ass cheeks dimple at each deep thrust. Fuck, hard again. “I need to shoot man, you ready” and Travis just nods, as Clay fists his cock. “Fuck!” and I can see Clay spasm into Travis, and then cum shoots from Travis’s cock. Wowowow. Lots. I leave them to their post-coital bliss, figuring they’d be quiet and we could get some sleep. Damn.

Travis led the team to an amazing win against imposing odds. The crowd went wild. I just smiled. See, when I suggested Clay might be more quiet next time, after blushing, he said he was building up Travis’s confidence. Well that sure worked. Damn.
 

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Well, clearing thru Turkey Day – nice, but just us. See, apparently, babies are germy and grandparents remember that – especially at the start of flu season, and are surprisingly in Naples or Palm Beach and unable to attend. We decided we needed to make a better effort for Christmas. And of course that meant throwing a party. We weighed the options of holding it at the Tavern – more people could come, the logistics. But I wanted to have it at home – our home. And I wanted a big-ass, pass-out, lots of fucking, party. So we invited everyone. If we knew them and they were breathing and not risking imminent death, we invited them.

Travis and Clay were excited, and they asked if they could invite some guys on the team – “Of course, but UBER only. NO CARS, okay?” and I got nods. Cool, so more hot meat. Then I thought about what JJ and Will might be like together. I’d HAVE to introduce them. If Will could teach JJ some of his oriental skills – it would do a LOT of good for JJ. And his massive bat. And Everett was coming with his girlfriend – it’d be good to meet her. And we invited Helen, who was “thrilled” to get the invitation, and to see her old house once again, and in all its glory. Plus just about everyone else. We were expecting about 180 to 220 people.

I pulled Sammie out of maitre’d work and pulled in Pam and Wendy. And then Mom got the big idea that she was needed. Holy cow. She stayed with us, but did booked hotel rooms for out of town guests (thoughtful) and really was a dynamo decorating. We have heaps of Smythe-Worthington Christmas stuff – I thought four trees was excessive – Foyer, Living Room, Dining Room and Kitchen. Jean thought it was great. Everywhere there was greenery, light and sparkles. It was, I have to say, beautiful, and how Christmas should be celebrated. There were large green wreaths with big red bows on every window. Almost garish. And we have over 30 windows over the 5 floors. Plus lights everywhere and candles in the windows. Garland everywhere. It was exciting.

Then we began the countdown. Mom had bartenders and servers and caterers to “audition” – Pete’s was staying open, but we’d invited the entire staff – and inconsiderate to make them work. So I’m standing there next to mom and the hot young studs, auditioning as bartenders, were given a verbal list of their order (Mom wrote the instructions down so she could compare results with the request) and I’m sipping rum punch and Dark-N-Stormy's and having a good time.

“We will have at least 10 serving stations, and you are to meander and take away empties and offer refills. No one – no, one, must wait more than one person to get a drink. Service is expected to be immediate at a Smythe-Worthington occasion, so I need you to be the best there is, fast and accurate and on your game.” As she eyes about 20 girls and guys. All gorgeous.

One hot guy – Fritz, and he looked like a Fritz, I thought. Tall, blond, very Germanic. Smooth skin. Hot. And a nice bulge. Easy does it buddy, I think to myself as I take another sip of my like 5th cocktail. “Mrs. Smythe-Worthington, have you considered what type of punch you would like to serve?” and Mom looks a little distracted. Not like her to overlook a fact like a good Christmas Punch. “Please, Fritz, call me Felicity, I told you” and Fritz smiled leeringly at her. I winked at him, and he looked at me. Can’t decide, buddy? Nail the biddy or nail her son who owns this pile and is paying for the party and your wages and maybe a big fat tip? And Mom asked Fritz what he would recommend. Then Fritz went into a flurry of activity and opened bottles and splashed stuff around and after a bit, and an apology as he excused himself to the kitchen, came back to us with punch glasses and ladled out his punch.

My mother took a sip, and Fritz handed me a cup, looking into my eyes and his hand lingering on mine as I took it. Hmmm. “This is delicious, Fritz – well done. You must tell me what’s in it” and he did – Champagne, Sauterne, some light fruit and grenadine. A potent mix. And it was yummy. Well that just got him hired. Mom asked him to oversee the other bartenders and would he be able to work and serve the house-hold for a few days before the party? Mom wanted perfection. “Of course, Felicity.” I think this dude is hitting on my mom. Well fuck it, let her get laid by old Fritzy. Probably has a small dick and is a selfish lover. Germans usually are. Cold. Turns out I was dead wrong on all counts – but I didn’t know that yet.

“Darling, you need to hire Fritz. You need a man about the house, he’d be useful to you all.” She has a literal sparkle in her eye. She’s up to something. And I look at her. Okay, I take dick up the ass. But I am a guy. And I am “straight”, which of course means that I am handy. Not gay, meaning I’m like a helpless girl around the house. How many drinks have I had? And of course Mom was right. I sucked at guy stuff around the house. Dad always paid people. Peter knew his stuff, but he was usually working. And apologies to those many handy and capable people who happen to be women or LBGTQ men. “Sure, Mom, good idea. Let me run it by Peter and Jean.”

Then we had the servers to interview. Wow, lots of hotties there. Both chicks and dicks. I think my Mom was working to get the most attractive staff. “Where did you get these people, Mom, they are all beautiful?” and she looks at me and smiles. “My old tricks, darling. I called a few modeling agencies and asked for their most beautiful. Then I let the staff know they’d be tipped well. And they wouldn’t be penalized if they were to sneak off and ‘Attend’ to any of our guests.” And I’m looking at her. Did my mother just say the help could screw our guests and she’d be okay with it.

“Reminds me, we’ll need to stock up the guest rooms” and I’m looking at her. “What, darling, you want your guests to have a good time. Well, sex IS a good time. Stop being such a prude.” And walks away to chat with Jean.

“She’s some woman, your Mother” and I turn to look at Fritz. “Yeah, she is.” And he really is hot and I am really hammered. Oh, and did I mention I’m 23 and always horny? Peter was at least 5 hours from getting home. “I can’t decide who is hotter, the mother or the son?” and his eyes are locked into mine. Okay, not the best pick-up line, but it’s good enough. “Maybe you can show me around the rest of the house?” and I’m like, this guy is good. “Sure, Fritz. Follow me.” And I take him on a tour. Our stairs were wide enough to go up two at a time. “Lovely house you have here. When will I meet your wife?” as Rad comes running to me for a hug. “My husband will be home around 11:11.” That should shut Fritz up. Instead, he smiles and looks kind of happy.

I show him the guest rooms and the boys’ rooms and then the master-suite. “Umm. Look, man. Can I tell you something?” and I look at him. “Of course.” And he looks at his feet and shuffles a little. “It’s embarrassing” and I give him the ‘come-on’ hand gesture.

“So it’s standard practice to seduce your hosts – male or female. I’m a model, bartending and doing odd jobs on the side. Any contacts are useful, okay?” and I nod a him. I knew that and am not surprised. What I don’t get is why he is telling me this. “At first I figured I’d bag your Mom – she looks like she’d be fun. But now I’m way more into you, but I don’t want to put you into an awkward position with your husband.” And now I get it. Kind of a buzz kill.

“Thanks for that, Fritz. You are a very attractive man and Peter and I have a conditional open marriage. We have to share all details right away, it has to be safe, and we can’t fall in love. So far it’s been very successful.” And he smiles his perfect white, perfect teeth, perfect smile. “Wow, so, like you can have your cake and eat it too?” and I nod.

“Look, man. You are a hot guy and I don’t want to be forward, but your bulge has been doing my head in since I met you and I’d really, really like to blow you.” And I look at him. “Not that it matters, but which team do you usually play for?” and he nods. “Fair enough. I was straight in High School. Mostly stuck to chicks, but did fool around with dudes in College. For work we need to be able to fuck either sex – I had to actually audition on a couch, brother and sister who were at least 60. So I don’t know what I am. A slut for sure – don’t worry, I get tested ALL the time and only play safe” and I look at him.

“Well consider this an audition. Try and impress the hell out of me” and we just stand there.
 

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It’s awkward, I get it. But let Fritz work for it. I am hammered, he is sober. He is fucking HOT. But I’m stuck on the cold German features. His blond cropped hair and blue eyes. Germanic features and purity -- and I don’t go there, but I am aware of German history. He’s for sure tiny dicked and will be a lousy fuck.

Wow. Fritz comes up to me and stands with parts of his body barely touching me. He lightly strokes my face, neck and shoulder. “You are so beautiful. You would be an incredibly famous model.” And he is savoring exploring my body. “Wait until you meet my boyfriend.” And he looks at me. “Boyfriend, I though you said husband” and I look at him and his fingers work to unbutton my shirt. “I use the term interchangeably” and he works his hand onto my chest, gently fingering my pecs. “Well sounds like I might have a chance with you, beautiful boy.” And his palms are gently devouring my body, fingers brushing my nipples. I’m rock hard and I can feel his hardness through his pants. He unbuttons two more buttons and his hands are on my shoulders. He is nibbling my ear lobe. And then kissed my eyelids.

“May I kiss you” and I nod “You’d fucking better” and he leans in for a gentle kiss. Lips only. Then a twist of his head and lips again. Then hands behind my back, pulling me in. Gentle, though tough. “You taste yummy” and I smile. “I taste like Rum Punch” and the seduction continued. Shirt off now, and hands everywhere. He rubs his hand along my cock. “Nice man, this is freaking sweet!” and unzips me and pushes my pants down. He puts my hand on one SOLID shoulder for balance and slips my left loafer off, then pulls my left pant leg off. Then he moves my other hand to his shoulder and does the same with the right.

Now, I’m boxer naked, with a hard cock tenting to the right. And this hottie is on his knees. Breathing slowly and with an open mouth, steaming my boxers. It was hot. His fingers trace the outline of my cock and he puts his mouth over it from the base to the tip. “Beautiful” and he stands. He unbuttons his bartenders vest, and then his shirt. He is smooth and sculptured. Damn. And then he unbuttons his pants, kicks his shoes off, and he is matching me, naked but for our boxers.

Fritz is staring at me. “You are so beautiful” and I nod “So are you” and he steps forward and presses his cock to mine, as his hands take my face and we kiss. And it was a connection. Not sure why or based on what, but I knew – then and there, that Fritz was destined to be a part of our lives. And that made it all the more exciting. A first time. To be savored and enjoyed and remembered years later. Hot.

Fritz dropped to his knees and pulls the base of my boxers down with his teeth. “I need to see this fucking bad-boy” and his mouth runs along my shaft again. Fucking hell. You can see pre-cum at the tip. He uses his hands and pulls the band out and over my cock and off my body. “Fucking hell man. That is BEAUTIFUL” and his fingers gently flutter along the length. And he leans in and kisses the tip and then licks some pre-cum out.

Then he stands and I grab a sip of my drink, and then go down. Let’s see what we got here, I think to myself. I love unwrapping presents at Christmas. Fucking big-ass stick. FAT. And LONG. Fuck. NOT small at all. I mouth him and feel him. 8 1/2, maybe 8 – but easily 6”, maybe 7” round if not more at the base. Fuck. Chicks must cream when their clit hits his base. He’d stretch them so wide. And no fucking way could I get all of that in. Let alone the head for a decent blow job.

“Fucking shit Fritz. Nice dick, but that’s way bigger and fatter and no fucking way will that fit into my ass – let alone my mouth” and I stand up. Okay, interview over. And I take another sip. “You can put your pants on – not really going to happen for me. Sorry man” and Fritz smiles. “Why don’t you let me handle that. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that, and I’ve learned some tricks.” And I nod. And reach for the pot pipe. “Let me take a toke” and he nods. “It’ll do you some good” and I’m insta-high, as I exhale out the opened window. Mom does NOT need to be alerted. I feel a cock at my ass as strong, worked-out arms wrap around mine. Strong, powerful, kind arms. “Does baby feel better” and he nuzzles my neck.

He led me to the bed and we do a gentle wrestle and he pins me down and gets into a serious make out session. “I wish I wasn’t working, I’d like to get high too” and I look at him. “You are officially off. You may if you’d like to.” And he smiles. “I’m off and about to make love with you, but I’m not off according to Mummy, so best to remain sober.” And I’m thinking, this guy has game. “You have protection” and I grab some magnums and lube from the drawer and leave them for him.

Then he played with all of my body and gave some good head and then worked me over and performed oral magic on my ass. He was fucking phenomenal. Kissing, rimming, probing and then fingers in there and I was fucking begging to get fucked. Then be backed down – odd strategy. He went from 3 fingers to 2. Then after a few minutes, to one finger. Then then down to his pointy tongue. MY ASS WANTED TO BE PROBED! Then he backed down to licking. Then rubbing. My ass was squirming to get fucked. I needed it bad. “You need to fucking fuck me, Fritz and right now.” And he continued his rub. My taint now, and farther away from my love button. I moved my hand back to put his at my ass, but he was strong and deflected me. My hole burning to be touched.

Karma Sutra. The guy MUST have read it. Same strategy as Will. Anything but the dick and wow. He condomed up and lubed up and then I felt gentle pressure at my hole. FINALLY!
 

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And fuck it. His weight was all on me and it was hot. His legs on mine. Chest heavy on my back. Nibbling my neck and fingers in my hair, and caressing every inch of skin. I was being taken and it was hot. He’d gotten past my ring and he was a little bit in. His weight lifted off of me and I felt him get another inch or so in, about half way, at least from what I could tell. “You are so fucking tight, it’s HOT, man. I could literally cum right now” and my hands go to his ass. Lovely, smooth and I hear him gasp and he bucks a few times and pushes his cock in. “Fucking hell. Please don’t touch me ass, it makes me cum” and he spewed a good six or seven spurts of cum into me. And he lays down on me and is breathing heavily. “Wow, I’ve never shot that quickly” and his breathing subsides.

He lifts his weight off of me and his left hand goes under my leg and I feel him pull my leg up and over his head and shoulders, flipping me. His massive bat still half in my ass. His massive cock which just came. “Fuck, that cum makes your ass so slippery” he’s smiling a million dollar smile and he pushes in further. He has his arms on either side of my face. “You are so fucking hot, dude. Give me a minute to recover and then let’s have some fun” and he’s smiling and my cock is leaking. A LOT. Like spit dripping from my slit.

It was amazing. He never lost his erection. Fuck, I didn’t think he’d be able to get in and here I am flat on my back, jizz up my ass, lubing up this mini-phone pole, while he got ready to have ‘some fun’ – jeeze – my kind of guy. “You think you can last longer this time, Baby? Con likes a good fuck” which earned me a smile and a prod from his erection. Another inch in, for sure. I could feel my ass stretching.

“I’m going to fuck you silly and you won’t be able to walk straight for a week” and it was his smile and his beautiful blue eyes. He had “It” – the attitude, the intelligence, the confidence. Let along a perfect body. He’ll be snapped up quickly, I am sure. And fuck if he doesn’t lean in for a kiss and I feel his cock push further in. Fuck. STRETCH. That’s a THICK cock. I felt so full.

“The last inch, Babe, is the hardest. If it gets uncomfortable, let me know” and I nod. Buzz kill. And he pushes hard. I see his toes dig into the bed for leverage. Damn, I must be tight! And he was almost pretty much in and he’s looking into my eyes. Reading them. I nod. And smile. I was having fucking fun. Well, I am drunk, a little stoned, and I have a large ass cock attached to a beautiful man who is about to fuck me. He pulls one leg onto his shoulder as he kisses me. Fuck. He gyrates a little. Back and forth. Good strategy. “I’m pretty much in – how is it, are you okay?” and I smile. “Fuck me Fritz” and he smiles. “well, if you say so.” And my other leg is on his shoulder and fuck. I worked my angle so he hit my prostrate and wow. Does this guy have skill.

I felt needed and loved and wanted and desirable and hot and I was turning on this stud and fuck all if it wasn’t like 4 or 5 mild pumps and then a few wailing deep, fill-me-up, gut punches. I thought on one long hard one that I might vomit, only to feel the euphoric pull out and shallow fucks. Fuck. My cock was hard. Dripping. We fucked for a while. We were both sweaty, our torso’s completely soaked. Hair slick with perspiration. He worked my nipples and would rub his abs along my cock on the in strokes and then he’s take his abs off. He was watching the dilation of my eyes to make sure I didn’t cum too quickly. Fuck. And a SKILLED lover. He was a fucking stud catch.

Our bodies were pink with exertion. I knew we were getting close. It was like we both were too hyped up to cum. Too much stimulation to get over the trigger to release. He’d work my cock with his abs to edge me. Then pull away. Pre-cum was everywhere, but then everything was wet anyway. My head was thrashing. This was what it’s like to be THOROUGHLY fucked. I went ape-shit and my back arched and he loved it. Stroked his ego, and his massive pecs and his nipple. Sweet and hard. And mouth on mouth. Fuck. I Put him on his back and adjusted myself over him, knees on either side. And went for the money. I sat, completely on his cock. Balls in my hand – tight as they were, they didn’t fit under me, we were that tightly fucking. I was on him totally and I gotta say – I saw stars. Fuck, if I could take him, I could definitely take a fist. Well, maybe a small one. And it was his eyes and his expression. Staring at where his cock shaft used to be. Now completely embedded in my ass.

“No one has ever taken all of me. Wait. Don’t move. Let me savor this. I can cum on command. Can I get you off?” as he teases my cock with his fingertips. Eyes locked. I go in for a kiss and I whisper in his ear – “Get me off, but not with your hands” and he looks at me and I sit back up and he’s prattling on about how perfect and beautiful and he’s blowing my cock. Literally blowing streams of air. It was exactly what I needed and wanted and I felt the inevitable and my heart pattered. I felt a shock and my cock erupted. No other word for it. It was euphoric and it was like I was peeing cum. Easily a rope 12 inches. And far. And I felt my ass contract. “Cum” and I felt Fritz cumming as I shot rope after rope. Face, chest, headboard. I counted 10 shots. Fuck. And a bunch of pumps from Fritz, as my hands grab his tits for balance. Fuck. And we look at each other and smile and fucking hell. New best friend. Well, second best.
 

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So the thing is, we were on a post-coital high. Giddy. But we had to dismantle the situation. Slowly. The f-in thing hurts going IN, but also OUT, as your ring is stretched open and goes to close. Fritz knew what I was doing, and used his hands to help me – I was that weak. An inch at a time. Took close to 10 minutes. Fritz entertained himself eating my cum. And feeding me, too. When I got to the tip – my ass is like 8 ½” up, plus like 8” of Fritz’s body, so I’m like at an awkward 18 inches off the bed. Legs shaking and straining to hold me in place. Then I was off and fuck it if I don’t crash to the side of Fritz.

The rubber was OBSCENE. Like way more than a gold ball, of cum. More like a tennis ball. Most guys will drip cum from the tip down the shaft. Not Fritzy. No room, condom stretched tight. So it was all there in the reservoir. “Stay there.” And I get up and fuck all if my ass didn’t hurt – but in a good way. A very good way. So I go, bow legged and get a towel. Fritz is laughing a beautiful, happy laugh. “Told you, pussy boy”! Using the towel, I remove the condom. Usually you tug or roll it up, but see, it’s gross, I know, but I wanted to taste his cum. I worked to get the condom off with as much cum as possible, until his spudge just dripped down his cock and pubes. Then I went down on him wide mouthed – he’d be sensitive, for sure. Licking everywhere. Savoring the taste. You can always tell what someone has eaten and cum changes flavor. His was delicious. My licking him got a twitch from that fat bat – I’d bet money I could get him hard and we could fuck again…but I wasn’t sure I could handle it! And all of this cum – he came twice. Fucking hell. Peter was going to love him.

We showered and chatted and it was nice. So not like I just met him and we random fucked. Fucking can bond you – sometimes it’s nice and anonymous. This was close to love. Well, ‘making love’ -- not the proverbial ‘In love’, which is reserved with me only for Peter. And my ass was a constant reminder that I’d just been fucked. And I loved it.

“C’mon, I’m starving and I could use a drink” and we are perfectly composed and dressed, of course, and we descend into the living room.

“You are very naughty Conrad. And also VERY loud. I had to send the children to another floor” and Mother, legs crossed (eeewwww!) thumbed through a magazine. I know Mom. “Totally worth it Mom – Fritz is one hell of a lover. You should take him for a run yourself.” And she peers up at me. “Maybe I will.” And thumbs another page. Awkward. Fritz returned with a drink for me, after first checking if my mother needed anything. “I asked Jean to bring some munchies in. I hope that was okay.” And my mother mumbles something about making himself at home. I couldn’t care. Damn. I sat and my ass was like…'you just got fucked - HARD'. I used to feel that way when Peter and I first started anal. But I haven’t in a while. Mother would be shocked. Well, maybe not.

Fritz excused himself to chat with Jean and continue preparations for the party.

“You sounded like you were having fun.” And I’m like, how much do I tell her? We practice the ‘Don’t kiss and tell’ rule. “We did have a lovely time. He’s an accomplished lover, has a terrific body and technique, and he’s a lot of fun. He is also VERY well endowed. Way larger than any other man I’ve ever had” and that stopped her pages turning.

“He likes girls, too” and she looks up. “I’m not a girl” and is back at her magazine. “He said he fancied you and was planning to offer himself to you if you wanted, but he saw me and you went elsewhere with Jean and one thing led to another. But trust me. You have my blessing to have fun with him if you’d like. Just don’t tell me about it and then Dad won’t know and all will be well.” And she looks at me, over her glasses.

They’d reached an understanding long ago. My father was a notorious rake (guess where I got it from) and he could explore o the side as long as he was safe and it didn’t get back to my mother or any of their circle. Discretion was a must. He blew that with Sammie. But at least I got a ½ bother out of it --- who was growing like a weed. I puttered around a bit and my Mother went to the kitchen and I polished off the hors d’oeuvres and needed more. And my mother is next to Fritz and she has a (tastefully) bejeweled hand on his ass. Backing up slowly…and I see Jean and ask her for a minute.

“Jean, I need to talk to Peter, but I wanted your input first. What would you think about having Peter work here? Helping out around that house.” And she looks at me and smiles. “Well thank god. We need help. He seems nice and capable and I’m ancient and you are working me to the bone. Plus he is deliciously easy on the eyes. By all means, check with Peter, but it’s perfectly fine with me. Thank you, Conrad, for being considerate enough to ask” and with that dragon appeased, now I needed to convince Peter. Only once they’d met, it didn’t take much convincing. Hell, it didn’t take any.
 

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Fritz worked well into the night, arranging things for the party. He and Jean ate with me and Mother and Peter came home a little earlier than was usual. I could see it in his eyes. Mano-a-mano. Like guys. Football bros. Frat Buddies. Beer and bitches and bongs. They liked each other before they spoke to each other. And the handshake was a LONG one. Too long. And eyes locked. Yep, we had a new butler. Or whatever.

I of course told Peter all and he smiled and his smile got bigger as the story continued. “Wow, man. Nice.” And it was. We were sitting in bed and just enjoying each other. I’d smoked again to freshen up. I would have crashed without it and that would have been rude to Peter.

“What do you think about hiring Fritz to help out around the house?” and Peter looks at me. “In what capacity?” and I was thinking, not like that – “We need a man around the house. I am useless with fixing anything and I’m not shoveling snow. Dad always paid for that and we are too. But it’d be more handy to have someone live in. Carry groceries, drive us anywhere. Half butler, half handy-man, half man about the house.” And he nods. “Makes sense. But he’s a model and beautiful, and should have a very successful career. Why would be want to give that up to work as your slave? Even if he has a massive cock?” Good point. “Well, looks don’t last forever. I wouldn’t mind if he continued to model. It’s more a place to live and help out as needed. More part time, and the rest he can model. That work?” and Peter smiles. And leans in to kiss me. And between my legs to claim his marital rights. Even if we weren’t yet married. And fuck did he make me feel good and my ass continued to hurt. It felt great.

Well – let me tell you. I can read a crowd better than anyone I know. And Mummy got hers sometime between last night and this morning. We are enjoying coffee and Mummy was glowing. Fucking glowing. Mom’s don’t glow. Unless one thing happened. And Fritz was with us, as was Jean. She acted oblivious, as did Peter. Mom, Fritz and I knew though. Fucking hell. After nailing me, twice, he nailed Mummy. Kinda hot. Kinda weird. Kinda Awkward. But kinda cool. An inner voice was whispering ‘Let people be people’ and I nod it off. Face back into the morning paper.

After breakfast, as we were getting up, I turned to Fritz. “Hey, Fritz, can we talk a minute. We’d like to offer you a position as staff at our house.” I wanted him to know this wasn’t a ‘You fucked my MARRIED mom’ discussion. He nodded, and I head nodded him over to my study.

“We need a man about the house. To do stuff. Handyman for sure. Help Jean with everything. Coordinate Tradesmen. That sort of stuff. I can’t give a general job description – it’s just to do everything I can’t do – I’m hopeless at fixing stuff as I never learned as Dad hired people for everything. Then to be the host at parties and dinners overseeing the details and the other servants. I don’t mean servants in a belittled way, but servers and the bartenders. We employ people to lead the life we do and we need help managing that. We are planning on twins next year and that’s a LOT of people to take care of. Any interest?” and I look at him. He had a thoughtful expression.

“On the one hand, it’s gainful employment. On the other, I’d be abandoning my modeling career and I’m not convinced I won’t make it big time. I know it’s a pipe dream, but I’m good at it.” And I held my hand up. “Peter and I talked about it and we want you to pursue your life’s passion. We think it’ll be more of a part time job, and a place to live, and we would make accommodations for your to continue your modeling carrier.” And he nods. “Very kind of you.” He got pensive. “You can save on rent, make a steady income, and when you need to travel we would give you unrestrictive access to do so.” That kind of got him. We talked generally about terms and I asked about salary and more than doubled him suggested salary, which made his eyes bulge.

“What I’m not clear on is your title. There doesn’t appear to be a satisfactory title for a male employee that isn’t draconian.” And he looks at me and smiles. “I’ve always wanted to be a ‘Butler’.” And our eyes locked. “Lots of hot sex in porn with the English Butler. And I smiled.

“Look, Fritz. We want to have you as part of our household. We had great sex and I know you nailed Mom. Peter will want in on the action, too, if you are interested. But we are a couple and we expect you to pursue your own course. If we decide to be intimate again, it will be by mutual desire and would be outside of your job description. It’s a tight rope to walk, to be sure, but me and Peter will marry one day and while we expect activities on the side, I’d like to be clear we are not expecting it or any, and you should be the same. Does that make sense?”

Fritz nods. “Consensual or it doesn’t happen. Works for me. Maybe a clause in the contract that I can’t be fired for not providing sexual relations?” and I smile. See, he’s a smart dude. “Sure, Fritz. Sounds reasonable. But are you sure you want to be a Butler?” and he nods. “And I want hot suits made up, and once fast for sure for the party. Look, I’m a model. Dress me as the Butler and let me open the door to greet your guests and your party will be legendary.” And I smile and nod. He’s right. Some Butler, who is hot as shit, dressed as a Butler, opens the door and greets guests in this mansion – that’s gonna get talked about. People will be speechless. And they were!
 

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“Now, without being ‘Kiss and Tell’ – tell me about you and my mother.” And Fritz nods.

“She came to my room in beautiful lingerie. She has a smack tight figure.” The result of expensive trainers and a lot of work on her part.

“She asked if I’d like any company – she’d brought a bottle of red and two glasses. We had some wine and her nipples were erect” – “STOP – TMI, keep it high level” and he smiles and nods. “Sorry. We enjoyed each other’s company and then we went to bed and I made love to her and she had a VERY good time. At least 6 Very Good Times.” And he’s smiling and I smile back at him. “I am sure she did, and is most appreciative. As am I. But here’s the deal. It never happened. And we don’t talk about it. No one must know. You do that and you and mom are clear. It may make for some awkward moments in the future, but just go with it. And ‘Thank You’”.

Damn, boy. I took Fritz to the tailors, the same one that got Clay’s uniforms and we planned out his Butler’s uniform. Now, not to be crass, but we’re paying him like $200k a year. With bonus and guaranteed raises. This is not a menial job and one he should be proud to serve in. And that was exactly his attitude from the get-go.

“There is a lot of light blue and gold in the Smythe-Worthington family Crests. I’d like to propose a color from each of the Smythe and the Worthington family crest get incorporated into the uniform. We discussed options and decided on two bands, on the left arm sleeve, just by the cuff. One baby-blue-ish and one gold on a black uniform jacket. Very distinguished. We had vests designed with the same bands over a upper hip pocket. Fritz looked distinguished. Hot, actually. Then we got him flannel pants for winter casual and khaki for summer and a bunch of tightly fitter shirts for both. He was a hot stud and everything looked perfect on him. He insisted on French cuffs. And I gave him cufflinks, one of each family crest. And three pairs, Gold, Silver and Platinum. He was really excited and enjoyed it – I think he liked his role and his stature.

He modeled, to be sure. Photo shoots and catalog shoots. Modeling can be very profitable. I suggested he meet with our financial advisor (not me, conflict of interest) and his money was invested well. It was all a whirlwind, but he got it all done before the party. Wow. Blew the mind.