I’ve been on a bit of a writing hiatus for much of this year, but I was recently looking at the photo above, taken at Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado in 2018.

This was the first photo of the series that I have been using as inspiration for the Adam & Steve stories, and it happened quite spontaneously, as I recall.

My friend Paul A. Vortex handed me his camera, preset for the image he hoped to capture and told me to wait a minute and then take his photo as he ran down a ridge of dunes.

“How will I know when to take the photo?” I asked.

“You’ll know,” he replied as he took off his shirt and started running.

And about 30 seconds later he stopped for a moment, dropped his shorts and started running again.

Luckily I’m more voyeur than prude, so I knew instantly that this was the moment to start taking photos, one after another, until he stopped running. I say this was spontaneous, but Paul had likely planned it all, so it only felt spontaneous to me.

Since then we have made a lovely habit taking photos of each other’s butts in beautiful, natural settings. Au naturel, in nature, so to speak. Mainly his butt, to be honest, as it’s definitely the more photogenic of the two.

I’ve been using the pictures (out of order) to illustrate the Adam & Steve in the Garden of Freedom series, starting with one of me at Chriss Lake in Utah. We felt confident we were alone that day based on it being an out-and-back trail and an empty parking lot. The memory of the sun on my naked ass surrounded by golden Aspens still brings a smile to my face and a stirring in my loins. I think that pic captures the moment I became a convert to nudism!

Next was the photo that is my all time favourite, of Paul in the Death Valley shot I used for Badwater Bareskin. I must have made Paul toss his shorts in the air 20 times before I got the image framed the way I wanted. I think we walked more than a mile out onto the salt flat to get far away enough from the tourists to feel safe to capture that image.

The Santa Cums but Once a Year was taken during a surprise snow storm in June near Banff in the Rocky Mountains. That shoot was cut a little short by the arrival of a straight French Canadian couple who we thought for sure had turned back earlier on the trail due to the snow. Paul continues to lament that the husband in that couple didn’t want to join him in the shot.

And for the Beach Bum shot, Paul was actually wearing a swimsuit, pulled down low over the crack of his muscular ass because we were on a fairly busy beach in Bridgetown, Barbados. We used the Continuous Shooting mode to be able to choose the last shot just before his towel dropped low enough to reveal the swimsuit, but give the impression of nudity.

We have a few more photos in the archive for future stories, including one of me that is probably the most graphic of them all, so with luck I will come up with a good storyline to justify using that shot. And for sure we’re planning more shoots, as time, timing and travel allow.

Let me know if you have a fav shot of the series so far, or a location you want us to attempt to use!

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It’s not that Adam minded winter. He enjoyed the changing of the seasons. After all, the first blooms of spring were made much more energizing by the preceding sterility of winter. And Adam had certainly enjoyed his share of encounters where pleasure was enhanced by being delayed. There was, for example, that time a lover had left him tied to a bed, with porn playing on the TV, and a vibrator secured to his balls. That still ranked as one of the biggest cumshots of his life, when it finally happened.

Being made to wait for pleasure was one thing, but being denied it altogher, well, that was something he hadn’t yet explored. Every time he’d been edged it had ended with orgasm. But although he had sometimes wondered what it would be like to be brought to the edge, over and over, and then caged and denied the chance to shoot, he had not yet experienced that.

And that was what this winter was starting to feel like! Snow storm after snow storm. Some warming and melting, but then back into freezing temps and more snow. Would it ever end? Adam was beginning to wonder if he would ever know the warmth of sun on his bare ass again.

Adam knew that he enjoyed teasing, but didn’t get hard at the thought of total denial, so he started searching flights to somewhere warm and sunny. Anywhere would do at this point if it could fit within his budget. Within a week he was on a plane and landing in Barbados.

What followed was a perfectly pleasant, if somewhat chaste, week of warmth, sunshine and beaches. It was all very nice and sufficiently affordable, but ultimately also an exercise in denial. So many beautiful men, so many stolen glances, so little sex. He hadn’t felt so deeply in the closet in years. And yet the promise of sex seemed always just around the corner.

It felt like there were a lot of unwritten rules on this island. A lot of hinting that being gay was fine, so long as you kept it secret. Adam had fully expected he wouldn’t be getting naked on a trip like this, but he did wonder whether he could find a deserted beach or two.

He rented a car and set out to drive the island. The best beaches were south and west, whereas the east side was more rugged and rocky, but also presented the best chance to be alone. And despite his horny cravings for a man, he figured his best chance of happiness came with solitude and wilderness. So he headed east.

It was mid-week and midday. Traffic thinned out the further up the coast he got. He stopped at a few look outs and some beaches until he found one that was miraculously deserted. Nudity here would risk arrest, not to mention disrespecting local norms, but the temptation was so strong!

He settled into a nook of sand backed up against a cliff, and stripped down to his shorts. There was no sight nor sound of another human, and he could see up and down the beach to either side, so he figured he couldn’t be surprised. He waited half an hour to be sure of being alone, and then off came his shorts.

The sheer pleasure of warmth, solitude and ocean views started having an effect on his mood and his cock, which started stirring and then unfurling. Within a minute he was at half mast, and then fully engorged without even touching himself.

There being no sign of his magical, mystery lover Steve, he started to stroke himself. Slowly. He reached for the suntan lotion in his bag, for the obvious reason of not wanting to get his cock sunburned, but also, equally obviously, for lubrication. If no one was going to be sucking him then who cared what his cock would taste like.

Suddenly he stopped jerking and reached for his shorts. He had heard a noise in the bushes. He had his shorts on quickly and stood up for a look and walked out into the open part of the beach. Nothing and no one in sight.

Back in his secluded spot, naked again and stroking, he lay back and closed his eyes. He was fully hard and producing drops of precum when a shadow crossed him. He sat bolt upright in panic that he’d been discovered, but it was only a flock of birds passing low over top.

He took a break from his self pleasure to eat some food he’d brought with him. He walked a bit on the beach and soaked his feet in the shallows but he could tell this wasn’t a swimming beach.

Back in his spot he started jerking off again, this time with more serious intention. Whereas earlier he had just wanted pleasure and sensual warmth, now he wanted to cum. His strokes were harder and intentional. This could result in shooting a load in a matter of minutes. The sort of cumshot he used for quick relief when he only had a few minutes before getting ready for work. This was no longer about sexual pleasure. This was entirely about maintaining mental health and reducing his stress.

Adam froze, less than a minute away from orgasm. A guy walking a dog had appeared on the beach. Correction, make that a hunk. For a moment Adam considered finishing what he had started, but Mr. Hunk was slowly but surely heading in his direction. He figured he should get his shorts back on, and just hoped he could do so without it being too obvious he had been naked.

He grabbed his things and headed back onto the main part of the beach and down to splash in the shallow waves, while the dog and his master got closer and closer. The guy was in loose fitting shorts and a T-shirt, but he was clearly built.

“You should be careful around here,” the hunk said. Adam couldn’t tell if that was a threat, a warning, or concerned advice, so it was a moment before he responded.

“I hope I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“Just be careful, that’s all,” said the hunk.

“Yes sir, I will,” said Adam.

“You mocking me?”

“No, I’m just a bit confused. I’m just not sure what you mean specifically.”

“Pretty sure you do.”

And with that the hunk turned and started walking back along the beach to where he had first appeared from.

Adam’s cock was suddenly rock hard again. Was he supposed to follow? Had the guy been able to see him jerking off. Was he offering sex, or was it a threat of a beating? He was so confused, but also ridiculously aroused.

He decided to head back to his rental car and get out of there, but he hesitated for a moment. The hunk was walking up to a house perched over the beach that he hadn’t noticed before. Did he look back slightly at Adam, or was he just looking at his dog?

Adam stood frozen on the beach. Should he stay or should he go now? He decided to follow the guy up to the house and use an excuse of needing to use a bathroom. He noticed the dog had been friendly (sniffing his pre-cummed crotch with obvious pleasure), and used that as a sign that it was worth the risk to approach.

He called out from the gate on the path up to the house, and the hunk turned slightly and nodded. He actually really did need to pee, so it was not too much of a stretch to ask.

When Adam had used the bathroom and come back into the main room of the little house he saw the hunk was standing in the kitchen, now with his shirt off. His back and arms clearly said he worked a manual job. This was an honestly built body, not the gym built looks that Adam sported, and was used to from home. This dude was real trade.

But Adam was back to being totally confused. Was the hunk shirtless because it was warm in the house, or was this a sexual come-on? He was totally in the dark without the usual cues that gay men would throw each other to initiate sex.

“Is this your beach,” Adam asked, “was I trespassing?”

“No, it’s public. You’re fine.”

“Not as fine as you,” Adam let slip, and instantly regretted the flirtation.

The hunk turned towards him with an aggression in his eyes and said “I warned you to be careful.”

“Shit. Sorry, my big mouth…” but then he stopped talking because the hunk made a move towards him but also was unbuttoning his shorts.

“Get naked,” said the hunk, “and make that big mouth useful. This cock isn’t going to suck itself.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Shut up, and suck bitch.”

Adam swallowed another ‘yes Sir’ and then swallowed the hunk’s cock.

It is, of course, entirely just a cliche that black men are well hung, so Adam simply judged this mouthful to be just a happy coincidence. And although Adam didn’t know it, the hunk was quietly impressed that Adam could swallow him whole. That hadn’t happened in many years. He very nearly decided to nut right into Adam’s throat because it felt so good, but he hadn’t had any white ass in a while.

The hunk reached backwards with one hand for a bottle of cooking oil, and with his other hand grabbed the hair on the top of Adam’s head and pulled him up, then turned him towards a stool. Adam didn’t need to be told to bend over it. It was pretty obvious what was required of him. He assumed the position and said a little prayer to whatever God might be able to convince Mr. Hunk to take things slowly.

It worked. The hunk was generous with the cooking oil, first on his cock, and then fingering Adam’s ass. It reminded Adam of the first time he’d been fisted. An older guy, with seemingly inexhaustible patience, had used a similar technique.

The hunk worked a little faster, but Adam’s ass was no longer virgin territory these days, and he only needed cock-sized access, and not his tradesman’s hand and forearm. Adam distracted himself slightly by wondering what that hand would feel like, but pretty soon his cock was making initial entry, so he took a few deep breaths.

The Bajun was a better than average top. Not as good as his Steve, but more than adequate, given the circumstances. A few times Adam reached for his own cock, to stroke it. He thought the hunk might want to know that he could get hard, and therefore was enjoying being fucked by him. But both times the hunk pulled Adam’s hand away and eventually pinned his hands behind his back, using them to pull Adam onto his cock.

Maybe I’ll be allowed to jerk off at the end, thought Adam. But no. The hunk was clearly getting close to cumming and was now railing Adam’s ass. There was a slight pause in the movement. He pulled pretty much all the way out, and then shoved it in hard and deep and let out a sigh. Adam could feel a few jolts of swelling from the hunks cock and it was pretty clear he had shot his load.

The hunk pulled out, and reached for some paper towel to wipe off his cock. He handed a piece to Adam, presumably to be allowed to wipe his butt, and then said “Now get out.”

“Can I just finish off too,” asked Adam, reaching for his own very hard and dripping cock?

“Nope. Me and my girlfriend are the only ones who cum in this house. Now get out before I physically throw you out.”

Adam strongly suspected there was no actual girlfriend, but he dressed as fast as he could and was halfway out the door when the hunk said, “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. And you suck cock good. But I never want to see you or your skinny little white ass round here again.”

Adam doubted that too as he walked back to the rental car, given how much the hunk had clearly enjoyed fucking him. He wondered if he should have left him his room number at the Hilton but then a thought occurred to him. Perhaps there was some poetic justice in both of them being sexually frustrated. Adam had been close to orgasm three times that day and was so far still denied gratification. And the hunk, although he had come, was not going to know the pleasure of Adam’s holes ever again. He suspected Mr. Hunk was going to regret that.

By the time he got back to the hotel all Adam wanted to do was get into a bath, soak, and finally jerk all the way off. But as soon as he walked into the lobby and his phone connected to the hotel WiFi it started pinging with messages. His flight had been moved up to tonight because of a threatening storm rolling in tomorrow. His vacation was suddenly over and he had to head straight to the airport.

He never got to shoot a load in Barbados. And to make matters worse he had two beautiful men, one on either side of him, on the flight home. Adam started drifting off to sleep almost as soon as the plane was airborne, but not before feeling the leg of the babe sitting on his right come to rest right up against his own leg. And then the guy on his left let his arm drift off the armrest and into Adam’s lap. He’d never been so hard, frustrated and denied in his life, but he suspected this flight was going to have a happy ending.

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Gratification?

Adam was 45 minutes into a hike on the Tent Ridge trail south of Canmore early one morning when it started snowing. The fact that it was June didn’t seem to bother Mother Nature. As it happened, it didn’t really bother Adam much either. In fact it may have worked to his advantage because that evening, probably as a result of that freak snow storm, he found himself sucking a nice fat cock in his hotel room.

That night, around 10pm Adam came to be kneeling, just inside the door of his hotel room with the lights off, and with a bandana covering his eyes, impressed by just how hard Masc418’s stream of cum had hit the back of his throat.

Half an hour earlier he’d gotten a short and simple message on one of his dating apps:

“I need you to suck my cock,” was all it said.

The profile was blank, but a couple of pics landed in his Messages straight after. They were of a shirtless, headless, muscular torso, and a thick cock in the mouth of a guy wearing a hood.

“Like this,” the next message said, then:

“On your knees, lights out, eyes covered.”

“Your room, in 10 minutes.”

“Send me your room number now.”

The messages arrived rapid fire. This guy clearly knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t wrong in assuming that Adam must be staying in the same hotel, given their proximity.

It didn’t take Adam long to decide. There was no point asking for a face pic. That would likely kill the hook-up. Plus he was going to be blindfolded. So he sent the guy his room number almost immediately, and then went scrambling for something to cover his eyes.

He unlocked his door and sat, his back against the wall, just inside the room. It was less than a minute before the door opened.

“I said kneeling” said Masc418 when he came in. Adam cocked his head just a little at the trace of an accent in the guy’s voice, but it turned out to be almost the only thing the guy said. Could this be Max, Adam wondered?

Adam got on his knees, because duh, and slightly opened his mouth. He felt the guy put one finger into his mouth, pressing his jaw down lightly, and simultaneously drawing his face a little forwards. With his other hand the guy placed his cock in Adam’s mouth and started getting hard straight away.

What followed wasn’t so much Adam sucking the guy’s cock as getting skull-fucked by it. He didn’t mind. The cock was a good size, but not so big that it was hard to handle. He gagged a bit, once or twice, but found it fairly easy to just provide a pair of lips for the cock to slide through, with his tongue as a runway for it to glide along.

Another day, and another time Adam would have preferred to actually suck the cock, but somehow this worked. A take-charge guy using his mouth in a really clear and efficient way was much better than endless back-and-forth messages and then no sex. He didn’t even mind when the guy shot his load in about five minutes and headed straight back out the door. At least the cum tasted sweet.

But it was the only other thing the guy said, as he was cumming, that made Adam smile. As Adam was licking the last few drops of cum off Masc418’s cock, the guy said “woo-hoo”, softly. Almost under his breath.

It was the second time Adam had heard those words that day. The first time was in the morning, during his abortive hike into an unexpected snow storm.

Adam had set out to hike the Tent Ridge trail in the Kananaskis region of the Alberta Rockies just after breakfast. The trail wasn’t busy, but he didn’t expect he’d be able to indulge his hobby of hiking naked. It was June, but the weather was cool, and the forecast a bit ominous. And then it started to snow.

Adam kept hiking. He was dressed for it, and there was no way of knowing how long the snow would last. He stopped to talk to four young lads coming down the trail towards him, but they couldn’t tell him much about the conditions because they had given up at the first flakes.

He knew there was a straight couple, Max and Veronique, from Quebec City behind him because he had hiked the first stretch with them until they fell behind. He thought they might have taken a turn onto a side trail, but regardless, he figured they would also have turned back by now.

It wasn’t smart for him to go too much further on this trail alone, in the snow, with the wind starting to pick up, but he was hoping for a chance to get naked, even if just for a few minutes. He pushed on for about half an hour until he got to an exposed section of the trail that suddenly climbed sharply. Snow was piling up fast now, and the rocks he would have had to climb were icy. Reluctantly he backtracked down into a gully, out of the wind, sheltering amongst some tall firs that looked beautiful with the fresh new snowfall.

This was his chance. It took only a minute for him to strip naked of everything other than his boots. No one would be coming up the trail now, he felt sure. Would Steve magically appear, just as he’d done in Utah and Death Valley?

The snow blanketed any sounds around him, so he didn’t hear Max and Veronique coming up from below.

“Woo hoo!” said Max.

“Oh my!” said Adam. “I really didn’t expect to see anyone else this far up the trail in these conditions.”

“Clearly not,” said Max.

Was Max embarrassed, annoyed or angry to find Adam naked? It wasn’t clear. Veronique didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit fussed. Quebeckers are the closest thing to Europeans in North America, so she didn’t find nudity unusual or problematic. But what was up with Max? He was definitely not cool with Adam’s nakedness and was trying to push on past him and up the trail as fast as he could.

“You can’t get through,” said Adam, and then seeing the look on Max’s face, said “I mean, the next section of trail is steep and now really dangerous with the snow and ice.”

“Perhaps we’ll just head up just a bit further, to let you finish whatever this is,” said Max.

The two men stood facing each other, tension clearly building. Max was a rugged and handsome guy. When they’d met earlier at the trail head he’d introduced Veronique as his girlfriend, but Adam couldn’t help feeling a sexual attraction building between him and Max.

I wonder just how straight this guy really is, Adam thought to himself. Should he explain why he was naked in the middle of nowhere in a snowstorm? There was no way they would believe him if he told them about how a mystery hunk named Steve would sometimes appear if he was hiking naked in iconically beautiful locations. Much less that Steve would then fuck him in the most perfect way. No one would believe that. Adam barely believed it himself, and he’d been on the receiving end of it twice.

He eventually took a half step back to allow Max to move past him on the trail. The sub-freezing temperatures were keeping his cock under control, but as Max passed him, Adam’s cock started to swell and grow, and point towards Max, like metal responding to a magnet.

The back of Max’s neck seemed to stiffen, as he passed, leaving Adam to speculate that Max was also feeling the energy between. Woo hoo indeed. Whatever that meant.

Max and Veronique continued up the trail and out of the shelter of the trees, and Adam reluctantly put his clothes back on and started hiking back down to the parking lot. He picked up his pace a bit to generate some warmth after almost freezing his butt off.

Later that evening, as his hotel room door clicked shut, Adam slumped back against the wall and took off the bandana. Was what had just happened really just a coincidence? He did a search on his phone to check out a hunch. The area code for Quebec City, he found out, was 418.

Not for the first time Adam was reminded that it was definitely a good idea to have a clear and recent face pic on his profile.

Woo Hoo to You Too!

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Just the Tip?

For weeks Adam jerked off to the memory of getting fucked by Steve. There was jerking off, and then there was the exact same thing with his eyes closed and imagining he could feel that perfect cock in his ass. The latter never failed to please.

He went back to Chriss Lake a few times in the weeks after that wonderful naked hike, but Steve never reappeared. Before long the weather started closing in, and it was snowing off and on. Adam found himself going over and over in his mind what Steve had said.

Steve had told him that he was there that day because Adam had apparently needed him. Also that he’d been naked, in an iconically beautiful location in nature. Also that there were no guarantees he would appear again even if the same conditions aligned.

The next time Adam went back to Chriss Lake there were too many people around to take off his clothes, and the last time it was so cold that he only survived about 10 minutes before getting dressed again.

As luck would have it, he had a warm(er) trip planned. His travel was a combination of work and family time in California around Thanksgiving. It was going to add some driving to the trip, but he had mapped out how he could swing a few days for hiking in Death Valley.

Of all the beautiful landscapes to explore in Death Valley, Adam found himself drawn first to the salt flats of Badwater Basin, so that’s where he headed first. He pulled into the parking lot and was disappointed to see about a dozen cars, but he looked out onto the salt flat and noticed that most people were staying very close to the edge.

Adam pulled on his hiking boots and headed out, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. The weather was mild. Not hot, not cold, and the sun was shining brightly. By the time he had walked for just 10 minutes he was well away from all the other tourists. But then he noticed some dark clouds rolling in. Such a shame, he thought, because the blue sky had made the salt look so brilliant.

And then it started to rain. Lightly, but unambiguously, which had the happy effect of sending everyone else out on the Basin back to their cars. Now Adam had the place to himself, but his cotton tee was getting wet. It was a no-brainer to take off his shirt. If anyone had been there to see it, they would have absolutely admired how the wetness of the rain made his muscles glisten and pop.

Adam scanned the horizon but there was no-one in sight, so off came his shorts. The rain was warm on his skin, hitting his shoulders and then eventually running down his back to the mounds of his ass. He felt a sense of freedom that had been greatly lacking for the last few days of family dinners and work meetings. He wished he could always feel this relaxed and happy.

The clouds started lightening up and the rain stopped, but Adam stayed naked. Out of sheer exuberance and joy he tossed his shorts in the air and leapt as high as he could. It felt so freeing to feel his cock and balls rise and flap about in freedom.

No one was coming back out onto the basin and he was now well out of sight of the cars in the lot. But up ahead something caught his eye. Was there someone else out here on the salt flat? Without even thinking he walked, nakedly, closer to see.

Sure enough, as he got closer, he could see it was another person. A man. A naked man. A beautiful, sexy, hunky, naked man. Was it Steve? He called out to him. “Steve!”

The man turned and smiled a gorgeous, mischievous, flirtatious smile at Adam.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were my friend Steve,” said Adam, as he realized this wasn’t the same man from Chriss Lake.

“But I am Steve,” said the man.

“A different Steve? That’s a hell of a coincidence,” said Adam.

“The same Steve,” said Steve, “I’m not just one man. I’m who you need, in the moment.”

“I’m so confused,” said Adam.

“Well, your cock isn’t,” said Steve, looking down at Adam’s flag pole erection. “Your cock knows exactly what is going on.”

“So is this my sex life now? Random one-off hook-ups with a rotating cast of sexy strangers in remote locations?

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. And yet the look on your face says you want to suck my cock and have me bury my face in your ass.”

“I’d be a fool to pass this opportunity up, wouldn’t I?”

“Ya think?”

“And why do I think you’d disappear if I tried to get you to come back to my hotel?”

“Just shut, be a good boy, and start sucking me. We both know you haven’t had sex since Chriss Lake.”

Steve’s tone was both a little rude, and arousing at the same time. It was an instruction that Adam didn’t feel he could disobey, and yet it wasn’t mean. Steve was taking charge, and although Adam hadn’t realized he needed that, it somehow felt right. He dropped to his knees and felt the salt crunch softly beneath him as he took Steve’s cock in his mouth.

For a moment Adam felt like this was the same Steve. The cock was the same shape, length and girth. It really was perfect. Like it had been designed for him. Big, but not too big. Some precum hit his tongue. It felt familiar, like a taste he’d always known and yearned for. Steve grabbed Adam’s head with both his hands and started fucking his mouth. It was a combination of confidence with control that was incredibly easy for Adam to submit to. Nothing felt forced or unwelcome. It was like consent was assumed and totally not needed.

Steve’s cumshot hit the back of Adam’s throat like a forceful jet from a firehose. He was disappointed that their sex might be over so soon, and yet he’d never been so happy to have a man shoot a load like that. Adam wondered if this version was a Two Shot Steve.

As Adam stood up, Steve turned around and bent over, as if to touch his toes, showing off his stunning ass. No instructions were needed this time. Adam rubbed his cock against Steve’s butt. Precum dribbled out of Adam as the perfect lube and he used the head to spread it over and into the hole. Steve let out a little moan, and spread his legs wider.

Adam pushed down slightly on Steve’s back to get him to bend his knees just a bit. Some guys would have a little trouble holding that position, but that wasn’t going to be a problem it seemed. Steve clearly had all the strength needed in his legs to provide Adam with height and angle needed.

Just like his cock, Steve’s ass appeared tailor made to be perfect for fucking for Adam. A few times in the past, Adam had basically given up fucking totally gorgeous men because their holes were just somehow unusable. Not Steve. It was as if Steve had been sent as a demonstration model from Fuckable Asses ‘R’ Us.

Adam lost all track of time. He realized later he had no idea if he fucked Steve for five minutes or five hours. It was as timeless as it was effortless. He slowed his pace a few times to hold off from cuming, but inevitably a load flew out of him and into Steve’s ass. It felt like he came for over a minute. Spurt after spurt after spurt. His only regret was that he didn’t pull out and shoot it into the air, but he hadn’t realized just how much cum he was going to produce. Next time, I want to see all that jizz, he thought to himself.

“I’m not too proud to beg for the chance to see you again,” said Adam.

“It doesn’t work like that,” said Steve. It looked like Adam was going to start to whine so he continued “but I’m quite prepared to make you beg if it does happen again. You look good on your knees. Just saying.”

Steve nodded in the direction of the parking lot and Adam could see that people were starting to walk out on the salt flat again. They were still too far away to see any detail, but were clearly heading in their direction.

“You’re going to disappear as soon as I put my clothes back on, aren’t you?” said Adam.

“Yeah, that’s basically how it works,” said Steve, but seeing the disappointment in Adam’s face he offered up some advice. “Reach out and take what you need, but don’t be greedy, and be grateful for what you get.”

“Trust me,” said Adam, “I’m giving thanks for what I got.”

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The recap, in case you’re new to this series:

Jack (with the prize-winning ass) is in a relationship with De’on, and keeps him happy by taking a submissive role.

De’on (Dee) is the man of the house for sure, but is still flexing his muscles as a Dom.

Thom (see pic) is the boyfriend of Timmy, and we don’t know much about him yet other than his cock said to be thicker than thick.

Timmy used to be Dee’s fucktoy but for some reason a relationship never developed. He’s famously well-hung (for a bottom).

Jack & De’on had a threesome with Thom’s brother Peter and got the sense that Timmy had started cheating on Thom (with Peter, no less), leading De’on to decide he wanted another go at Timmy’s ass, and this is the unconventional way he’s decided to go about that…

Jack’s eyes widened slightly, and he drew in an involuntary breath. This was far and away the thickest cock he had ever taken. He was at once both excited and a little scared. He was pretty sure he could handle this cock. He was also thinking he was going to enjoy it, up to a point. But he was starting to realize that getting fucked by a cock like this might be as much about bragging rights as sexual pleasure. He figured there was no way this wasn’t going to hurt.

Thom’s fat cock had found its way to his hole faster than expected, and definitely not in the way he would have predicted. For the moment all Jack could think about was breathing and trying to chill as much as possible. This had been a process already, to get the point that Thom was fully inside him.

This was definitely not Jack’s first rodeo. Not even his first horse-hung cock. But it was the thickest by far. And to give Thom credit, he had taken his time. Thom and Jack had literally started the session by sitting opposite each other and holding hands for five minutes, synchronizing their breathing. Breathing in together, breathing out together, holding their breath together. Thom led the exercise, and Jack was happy to play the role of learner, even if he didn’t really see the point. It all seemed a bit phoney, like something an influencer would try to sell you on.

There was another few minutes of this and then Thom had Jack hold his cock in his hand. Well, hands, plural. Thom’s meat started to swell and harden as he told Jack to close his eyes, and visualize his cock sliding effortlessly into his hole. This was the point when Jack started to buy into the process and enjoy himself because he noticed he was also starting to get hard. Or at least as hard as he could, given that his cock was caged.

It was only a little over a week since Jack’s conversation with his boyfriend De’on that started out being about how well hung their friend Timmy was (really well hung for a bottom) but quickly came to be mainly about Timmy’s boyfriend Thom packing a really thick cock. Like salami thick. Jack would have been lying if he didn’t admit that he started thinking almost immediately about wanting to meet that meat.

De’on and Timmy had history, whereas Jack had barely even met Thom. De’on had fucked Timmy regularly until the chance meeting with Jack that started their relationship. As far as Jack knew, De’on hadn’t fucked Timmy since then, and probably no one else either. And, Thom and Timmy had coupled off around the same time as Jack and De’on.

Jack didn’t know Timmy all that well, and didn’t care to either. He was a little nervous around the idea of De’on reigniting his sex with Timmy, but figured it was now inevitable, and that he couldn’t really stand in the way of it. It’s not like he could stop it if that’s what De’on wanted. But it never occurred to him that he would be getting fucked by Thom as a sort of trade-off for De’on re-fucking Timmy, and much less that it would happen first, and without De’on being in the room. But that’s exactly what had happened.

Jack’s guess that De’on hadn’t fucked Timmy lately was indeed correct. De’on was thoroughly enjoying, and being satisfied by Jack, and especially the submissive role that Jack had quickly and willingly fallen into. Timmy had never shown any natural tendency to submissiveness, and De’on had no interest in a phoney role-play version of a Dom/sub relationship. He wanted it to be both organic and a natural progression of their personalities.

In some ways Timmy might seem the more obvious choice for a submissive partner, but it hadn’t played out that way. Timmy was a horny but lazy bottom who liked a man to take charge, but he also had a tendency to try to control the narrative, mainly through passive/aggressive behaviour.

Jack, on the other hand, was perfectly content to follow Dee’s lead. It had been remarkably satisfying for both of them from the moment De’on started giving Jack instructions, and taking charge of all decisions about their sex life. De’on was thrilled that it was working out, and Jack was surprised at how strangely liberating it had been to just let De’on take charge.

So here Jack was, getting fucked by Thom of the Thick Cock, entirely and solely because De’on had told him to do it. And he was wearing a cage because De’on had put it on him just before leaving on a work trip. They had played around with bondage and cages a little bit, but this was definitely a rapid escalation of that. Until now the longest Jack had been caged was a few hours, out at a club. The key hung from a short chain around Jack’s neck, clearly visible to everyone, but most people in the club that night probably didn’t clue into what it meant. The chastity crowd, however, instantly knew that that meant inside his jeans, underneath his Calvin’s, Jack’s cock was caged. One look at the hunk standing beside him made it abundantly clear who was the key-holder.

But for this experience, Jack’s cage was secured with a numbered Airlock rather than a key lock. De’on put tag #157778 into the lock, tightened it like a zip-tie, took a photo of it with his phone, and then headed out the door to the airport and his flight to Atlanta. He also left Jack with two additional numbered tags.

There wasn’t a lot of instruction, but that wasn’t unusual. Neither Jack nor De’on were big talkers, and they had an uncanny knack for knowing what the other was doing and thinking. Jack figured that he could cut the Airlock tag at any time if he wanted or needed, but that the point of the exercise was to see how long he could avoid doing that. Right there and then he resolved to attempt to be still wearing the same tag when De’on got back from his trip. Worst case scenario he’d have to cut the tag and use one of the back ups.

Just before the planned meet up with Thom, Jack texted De’on a pic showing the original tag still in place, along with the time on his watch. De’on responded with a heart emoji.

Thom’s cock had been fully inside Jack for a minutes now, but so far was just fucking him slowly. Jack had loosened more, and faster, than he would have guessed. Thom’s technique was impressive, but so too was his ability to make Jack just feel like all of this was something they had done a thousand times.

At what felt like just the right time, Thom picked up the pace and before long he was riding Jack with long, deep strokes. Jack was kneeling near the end of the bed, and Thom was standing. Their heights were probably a better match for this than with De’on, and Jack couldn’t help thinking about his boyfriend. Would De’on approve of it all if he asked for a recap later?

“Let’s take off your cage so that you can cum,” said Thom.

“I’d rather not,” replied Jack.

“Not take it off, or not cum?”

“Not take it off. I think De’on expects me to keep it on.”

“You think he does? You mean, he didn’t say you had to?”

“Right.”

“I’m a bit confused.” Thom’s pace had slowed a little but that just meant his cock was going that bit deeper into Jack’s hole. “I mean, why not take it off, and shoot a load? Can’t you go get another tag to put back on before Dee’s back?”

“Oh, I have some extra tags.”
“But you don’t want to use them?”
“Correct, I’d rather not. I really want to be wearing the same tag when De’on gets home. They’re numbered,” he added, after a pause.

Thom kept fucking, and it felt to Jack as if something had changed slightly. It felt as if this ridiculously thick cock had just gotten a bit thicker. Thom pushed Jack down flat on to the bed and started riding him harder from on top. Not that it was likely that Jack was going anywhere, but Thom apparently felt the need to push on Jack’s back, pinning him onto the bed with one hand, and grabbing a chunk of his hair with the other. Jack couldn’t help thinking this was a different approach than Thom took with Timmy, but said nothing. His cock was definitely straining against the cage and throbbing.

Jack resumed keeping his breathing timed to Thom’s. He liked the way that felt, and it was something that he could do to participate, rather than just lying there, getting plowed, passively. He heard Thom’s breathing quicken and within a minute it was clear he was unloading his jizz into Jack’s sloppy hole. Thom collapsed on top of Jack, face down, his cock still inside.

After a few minutes Thom pulled out and said something about being impressed that his cock was so clean. Jack rolled onto his back.

“You’re oozing,” said Thom.

“Do you like to see your cum come out, or would you prefer to send me home with it still inside of me?” asked Jack.

“Oh, actually, I meant your cock. There’s cum dripping out of your cage.”

“Yeah, it kinda feels like that,” said Jack, grinning sheepishly. “Can you take a pic of that for me?”

Thom grabbed Jack’s phone, held it to his face to unlock it and then took a bunch of photos.

“Please get the number on the tag showing,” said Jack. “Just in case De’on asks.”

“So, how likely am I to get permission from De’on to fuck you again? When’s his next trip?”
“Well, he’s not back for another three days. Just saying.”

“Wait, so you’re allowed to do that?”

“He didn’t stipulate anything, one way or another, other than to get fucked by you.”

Jack texted De’on the pic of his dripping cock still caged with the original tag and set about getting cleaned up. It was a few hours before he got a message back from De’on which was nothing more than a thumbs up.

He texted pics again each morning and evening, but because he wasn’t asked, he said nothing to De’on about his second fuck from Thom the next day. Or the third.

Jack drove out to the airport to pick up De’on at the end of the week and they had barely made it inside the house before they were ripping each other’s clothes off. De’on took one look at the cage and saw it was the original tag.

“Nicely done Jack,” he said. “I’m impressed. Cut the tag now.”

De’on fucked him with an intensity Jack hadn’t felt before, which left him a little conflicted. Dee’s load that night was huge and he clearly hadn’t fucked anyone all week. Would he notice Jack’s cumshot was just average after shooting multiple loads, even while caged?

But De’on didn’t look and didn’t notice. And he didn’t ask for any details about the fuck with Thom. All he said, as they were falling asleep, was that Jack needed to suck him dry in the morning and that he would be fucking Timmy in the afternoon. De’on explained that he didn’t want to be too horny going to the hook up.

“I don’t want Timmy bragging about getting a big load out of me. I don’t want him thinking you’re not meeting my needs,” said De’on.

Suddenly Jack didn’t feel bad about the daily fucks with Thom. He was starting to think that this entire exercise was perhaps a form of punishment for Timmy having had sex with Peter, and that Jack had in fact helped out by satisfying Thom so well. And so with a contented and relieved sigh, he curled up into Dee’s arms and fell asleep. Salami was nice for a change, but being held by these arms was what he craved the most.

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As he approached the second creek crossing on the Chriss Lake trail, Adam realized he was going to have to get creative.

The ground was soggy in places, but until now the trail had been well drained of yesterday’s rain. Some of the little streams and rivulets were running faster and higher than usual, but nothing that slowed his pace. But when he got to the first of two creek crossings he had to study how best to get across. The stepping stones in the creek bed were still there but some of them were only just at the water level, and others were below water. The tread on his boots held firm and he forded the first creek easily enough.

When Adam got near the second crossing he saw a pair of hikers coming towards him. They were crossing the creek slightly upstream from the usual spot ,where the water appeared a bit shallower. Despite that they were getting really wet.

Adam exchanged a few quick comments with them. The rest of the trail was in good shape, but the lake was definitely fuller than usual, they said. And with that they were off in the direction of the parking lot.

The first thing Adam had noticed as he pulled into the trailhead parking lot earlier that afternoon was how empty it was. Just two other cars. And as he was putting on his hiking boots two hikers came back from the trail and drove off in one of those cars. This pair hikers would be the other car.

He’d normally see at least half a dozen other cars on a Saturday morning. Must be yesterday’s torrential rain, he thought, and maybe because the weather forecast for tomorrow was stellar, meanwhile some more rain was still possible today.

So unless someone else was approaching from behind, Adam was going to have the rest of the trail to himself which was an incredible gift on one of his favourite Fall walks with the magnificent aspen foliage peaking just about now.

He studied the trail and the creek crossing and realized there was no way to get across without getting wet, but that didn’t bother him because it was turning out to be a gorgeous day. Tomorrow’s fine weather was obviously arriving sooner than forecast.

It was a pretty easy decision to take off his pants. He folded them neatly and put them on a log. Then just before wading into the water, he stopped and stripped off his underwear, and shirt. Might was well make sure all of his clothes stayed dry.

The water was really cold and reached his waist at one point so he was delighted to get across quickly and onto dry ground. The sun was warm on his naked skin, but the hint of a breeze meant his nipples tightened a little. And after the dip in that water his dick had and balls had shrivelled up into a tiny little nub.

He looked around in all directions, but of course no one was there. All of the cars in the parking lot other than his own were accounted for. The sun was shining on him right now but there were pockets of threatening dark clouds in most directions so he suspected no one else would be coming out here today.

He started off to hike the remaining short, but steep, section up to Chriss Lake wearing nothing but his boots, his backpack, and a smile. It wasn’t long before he broke a light sweat.

And then, as he reached a clearing in the aspens, he saw a beautiful, naked, god-of-a-man coming towards him. Who on earth is this, Adam thought to himself. And why is he also naked? If this guy stripped down to get across the creek then where were his clothes, not to mention his car?

As mesmerized as he was by the man’s beauty, Adam couldn’t help cringe at how shrivelled his dick and balls still were. The guy approaching him didn’t have the same problem. Quite the opposite in fact, and it was impossible not to be slightly hypnotized by the massive schlong swinging between his legs.

Adam wanted desperately to massage his own cock back into life but to do so now would be too overtly sexual a way to greet this stranger. So he just said a silent prayer that, if this guy was gay, that he wasn’t a size queen.

“Hey” said the stranger.

“S’up?” said Adam, immediately wishing he could have come up with something more intelligent to say.

They smiled at each other, quite pleasantly, for what seemed a minute until the stranger finally broke the silence.

“I’m Steve. You headed up to the lake?” he said.

“Yes!,” said Adam, perhaps slightly too enthusiastically. “My name’s Adam. Where are you coming from?”

But Steve didn’t answer and instead reached out his hand to Adam, who took it without even questioning it, and suddenly found himself walking, hand in hand with this complete stranger, naked, through a wooded section of trail towards the lake.

This has to be some sort of weird dream, thought Adam. I’m going to wake up any minute now. But instead they kept on walking at just the right pace, silent save for the rustle of leaves and occasional birdsong.

From time to time Steve would pause to admire a flower, and a few times when they had to climb some rocks he would go ahead and reach back with his hand to guide Adam up, giving Adam first a close-up view of his perfect ass, and then in turn his crotch, chest and smile.

Suddenly the lake came into view and they stopped to gaze upon it. They were standing so close to each other that Adam could feel the warmth of Steve’s body.

It felt so natural when Steve reached out and put his arm around Adam’s waist. He held it there for a moment and as Adam turned to him Steve pulled Adam in the last few inches. They were now face to face, their crotches unambiguously pressing up against each other. Naturally, as if scripted by Hollywood, they kissed.

Adam was teased, titillated and torn. He really wanted to know what was going on. Who was this stranger, seemingly heaven sent? But he absolutely didn’t want to interrupt this beautiful moment with questions that could only be intrusive. So he followed Steve’s lead and returned the kiss.

Steve’s tongue was now exploring Adam’s mouth with confidence that it was both welcome and desired. Steve’s hands were also doing their own exploring. Mainly scoping out the fullness of Adam’s butt. Steve’s thumbs massaged the tops of Adam’s cheeks, while his fingers traced the crack between them, and playfully parted them just a little.

Both men’s cocks had thickened. Steve’s was running lengthways up against Adam’s abs, while Adam’s was forced sideways when it would otherwise have been pointing straight ahead. Steve probably had an inch on Adam, but their girth was almost identical.

Steve paused his attempted tonsillectomy for a moment and Adam figured he had to decide whether to let this run its obvious course wordlessly, or if it was time to find out exactly who this was that seemed to be getting ready to fuck him, naked and unafraid.

“I really hate to take us away from this beautiful moment, but is this really happening right now?” asked Adam.

“Your cock seems to think it is. Mine too.” replied Steve.

“I don’t get it,” said Adam. “How is it that you just magically appeared? And where’s your car”

“Yeah, so, I don’t really need a car,” said Steve, mysteriously.

“Okay, forget the car thing for the moment. How is it that you’re here right now?”

“Probably because you need me. That’s usually how it works.”

“I’m really confused.”

“Let me guess. You recently had a bad break up, and you’re not having any luck with the boys. Even your regular booty calls have been ghosting you.”

“Um…”

Steve looked searchingly into Adam’s eyes for a minute. “You don’t need to answer any of that.”

“No, it’s true. I had a terrible split with Zane and I’ve had a bit of a man-drought ever since, but I don’t get how you would know any of that.”

“Does it matter what I know, or how? Or would it simply be enough to have your needs met, in the moment?

Adam’s face answered for him. He didn’t need words to say out loud that he was desperately longing for passionate man-to-man touch and intimacy.

Steve’s hands gently, but firmly rotated Adam around to face the lake, and slightly bent him forward. Instinctively Adam put one foot up a rock that was conveniently in just the right place.

Steve spat three times. First on his cock, then on Adam’s butt, and then in his own hand. As some Steve’s spit slid down Adam’s crack, Steve spread saliva all over his hard cock.

Adam couldn’t remember being this turned on in ages. He felt the tip of Steve’s meat pushing gently up against his hole, and then felt his ass opening up as if it had taken this same cock a hundred times before and knew just what to do.

Steve took his time and never forced the issue but Adam couldn’t believe just how easily this huge piece of meat was sliding up inside him. Slowly, inch by inch, confidently.

Thoughts drifted in and out of Adam’s mind. He was no stranger to getting fucked, but it had never felt this good. Was this how it was always supposed to feel? Had he been wasting his time with other men, for so long? Adam lost track of time and later realized he had no idea how long Steve had fucked him for. It just all flowed so naturally.

Steve, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying fucking Adam. The sounds and feelings and passion were unmistakable. This was no pity fuck. Or if it was, it was well worth Steve’s effort.

Once, Steve moved Adam’s hand away from his own cock and gently stroked it for him. At what felt like just the right time, Steve guided Adam’s hand back to his own cock and helped him jerk it. Both men could tell the other was getting close, as if they had done this dozens of times before.

Adam’s cum sprayed all over the ground in front of them, while Steve filled Adam’s ass with a stallion-sized load. They held that position for a moment to catch their breath, and Adam didn’t move simply because Steve’s cock was still fully inside him.

Eventually Steve withdrew, an inch at a time, looking down to enjoy the view. He helped Adam to straighten up, and turned him around for an embrace and some kisses.

“Let’s jump in the lake and clean up a bit,” said Steve.

“Sounds great,” said Adam, while thinking to himself he was definitely keeping that load inside him as long as he could.

The sun warmed them up fairly well when they got out of the water but Adam knew it was time to be starting the hike back down to the parking lot, so they headed back down, holding hands.

“Thank you! That was unbelievable,” said Adam, as they walked.

“Was that what you needed?” asked Steve.

“You have no idea… or perhaps you do?”

They reached the deeper of the two creek crossings when Steve turned to Adam and said “This is where I leave you.”

“Are you for real? Just who are you? You can’t possibly live up here on this trail, naked,” said Adam.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I’m both real, and I’m not. The moment you crossed that creek naked I was summoned to come and help you, and to fulfill your needs.”
“Well you definitely filled one of them, really full,” said Adam laughing and flirting.

Steve blushed a little. “Glad I could help with that. I really enjoyed it.”

“But you’re leaving me now and disappearing back to wherever you came from?”

“A part of me came from your heart, so that bit will be staying with you.”

Adam stood there in silent disbelief, and eventually Steve said “it’s time for you to go now.”

“Can I see you again? Do I come back here to do this again?”

“That’s not quite how it works. It’s a combination of things. Need, and opportunity play a role. But it doesn’t have to be here. Any iconic location holds this power.”

“And naked, in nature?”

“That too. Clothes don’t stay on me for some reason. But it’s not enough to just go for a naked hike.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, though, would it?”

“It won’t hurt at all. And trust me, it’s my role to be there, if you truly need me. Hopefully you won’t.”

“Kinda hope I do, a bit.”

“I’ll stay until you’ve crossed the creek.” said Steve, slightly insistently.

Reluctantly Adam turned and waded through the water, and when he reached the other side he stopped for a second trying to decide whether to look back. Maybe it’s better if I don’t, he thought. But how rude if I just walk away.

So eventually he turned to look back, but Steve was already gone. For now.

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It was now a foregone conclusion that De’on would be fucking Timmy again. The when, where and how were still to be decided. But the why was no longer in doubt.

Jack didn’t yet know any of this, although he already should have had an inkling when De’on came to find him in the kitchen after showing Peter the door.

“You were right,” he had said to Jack, “Peter is definitely fucking Timmy.”

Many boyfriends in Jack’s place would have asked De’on the obvious question right at that moment, how he had come to that conclusion after being convinced for so long that Timmy was remaining faithful to his boyfriend Thom.

But Jack had started learning the benefits of playing the long game. So instead of asking those questions right then, he simply returned his boyfriend’s kisses, and melted slightly in his arms, which was not a hard thing to do given Dee’s almost comically muscular hugs.

The question Jack did eventually ask, as they finished brushing their teeth and were climbing into bed, was somewhat more tangential. He asked how De’on had first met Toby.

After all, Peter’s explanation for his cock tasting of stale ass the day of the now famous pool party was that he had briefly fucked Rajah in the upstairs bathroom, and not Timmy in the garden shed. And Raj was Toby’s longtime partner.

All of the lads moved in overlapping social circles and knew bits and pieces about each other, but Jack had been surprised to learn that De’on had known Toby for years, and he wondered how that had all begun.

Toby was older. Much older. Probably as old as Jack’s dad. He was witty, friendly and charming, and exuded a sort of energy that made men of all backgrounds naturally gravitate to him at parties or events. Raj appeared to be somewhat younger, but given they had been together since before anyone could remember, they must have been relatively close in age.

To say that Raj was a slut was to underutilize the word. Everyone had slept with Raj, although most preferred not to admit it. He was both sexy and sleazy at the same time. Sex with Raj always held such easy promise, but always under-delivered, and always left a guy feeling slightly regretful. Until the invention of DoxyPrep, Raj had had a frequent flyer card at the sexual diseases clinic, and many of his sexual partners needed a visit there too. Despite all of this, more guys that might be expected routinely came back to feed at Rajah’s metaphorical trough because of the convenience of it all. Raj was never anyone’s booty call, but he was a call made by many, many men when that call failed.

One of the other effects Raj had was to make Toby look like a long suffering saint in comparison, and Jack was surprised to learn that De’on had met Toby on a work trip without Raj being present.

De’on relaxed considerably when he realized he wasn’t going to have to explain about Timmy, and instead started telling Jack in uncharacteristic detail all about meeting Toby, by accident, at Firefly in Las Vegas.

It was at least five years ago, at the old location on Paradise. De’on was sitting at the centre bar with a work colleague making short shrift of a pitcher of sangria. There was a lesbian couple to his left, and beyond them was an old guy in a pork pie hat, apparently eating alone. That guy would turn out to be Toby.

The lesbians were getting messy on margaritas and pretty soon no one could ignore the fight that seemed to be on the verge of breaking out between them. Dee’s work colleague took that as an excuse to beat a hasty exit, but De’on was bored and kinda curious to see what would happen next. That’s when he realized the old guy was throwing out one-liners that eventually had one lesbian and then the other howling with laughter. Well, one was laughing and the other crying. The restaurant manager appeared right at this moment and took the opportunity to settle their bill and pour them into a cab, which suddenly left Toby with the chance to slide along the bar and start chatting up De’on.

De’on was no stranger to being hit on by older men, and he would have ordinarily made polite excuses and headed back to his hotel, but it was the last night of his work trip and he’d had much less sex than usual that week. Vegas could be a surprisingly difficult place to get laid at times, not least because the gay bar scene was kinda small-town, and the dating apps were overrun by rent boys and hustlers. And so it was that De’on took the very witty and charming Toby back to his hotel for what turned out to be a surprisingly delightful blowjob. Jack really wanted to ask if it was true that Toby would take out his dentures to give head, but he didn’t want to interrupt Dee’s story.

That’s where the Toby and De’on story might have ended had they not bumped into each other again at the airport the next day and discovered they were both on the same flight home. Toby made a few more attempts at getting De’on into bed again, and every now and then that did happen, but for the most part they settled into a lovely friendship of occasional brunches, lunches and cocktails. And strangely enough it later turned out that De’on was becoming friends with Toby’s sister-in-law Agnes, but that story will have to wait for another day.

Suffice to say, even to his own disbelief, De’on really enjoyed getting to know Toby. De’on found it very easy to talk to him, and surprised himself at how much he would open up. Toby was a good listener, and every now and then would lean in with a bit of advice, usually not much more than a suggestion, that would turn out to be spot on.

“So is Toby a bottom, then?” asked Jack, when De’on seemed to be pausing in the storytelling. “Is that why he and Rajah sleep with everyone else but not each other?”

“No, he’s truly versatile, and not in the way that bottoms claim to be vers. In fact he’s really good at reading a guy’s energy, and offering the opposite vibe” said De’on.

Rajah might have been the guy who slept with anyone and everyone, but Toby was no slouch. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been too surprising when eventually Toby and De’on discovered they had slept with the same guy.

De’on hesitated slightly, but decided to continue on and tell Jack that their overlap fuck turned out to be Timmy. Jack reacted with surprise bordering on incredulity.

“Timmy’s got way more range than I would have guessed” said Jack.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” said De’on. “For the longest time he was only into older guys. He likes a confident top, and he doesn’t mind being arm candy if it gets him nice dinners and weekends in Paris.”

“Oddly specific,” said Jack. “You saying he hustled?”

“Not in any serious way, but he left home young and I think he realized he liked summers on Fire Island, and stuff like that.”

It was at this point that Jack decided to get specific and ask why De’on now believed Timmy was cheating with Peter. The conversation had naturally gone there, so it didn’t feel too intrusive now.

De’on paused for a second but figured he couldn’t dodge it any more.

“It’s because Peter made a sarcastic comment about preferring to fuck well-hung bottoms” said De’on.

Jack’s face showed he was trying to figure it out. “Wait, are you saying…”

“Timmy is very well endowed,” said De’on. “He’s super hung for a bottom.”

“And tops like that? What does the size of my cock matter if I’m getting fucked? Do you wish I was better hung?” All of this poured out of Jack as one thought.

“No babe, you’re just perfect. And I fuck you because you’re you. And you’re mine,” said De’on, to reassure Jack.

“But you fuck Timmy because he’s hung?”

“Used to fuck Timmy. But yes, sure, part of the appeal was his horse cock.”

De’on could see that Jack was struggling to figure out not just what this meant in terms of their relationship, but also why a bottom’s cock mattered at all, so he continued on with some reassurance.

“You know how you sometimes grab my ass when I’m fucking you missionary? Well, you’re not grabbing it because you’re planning to fuck me.”

“Fair. I’m grabbing it because you have a gorgeous ass.”

Same sort of thing when I hold onto a bottom’s cock. It’s fun to have something big enough to grab and jerk. I also love big ball sacks for the same reason.

“I’m feeling a bit inadequate, with just an ordinary dick.”

“Look, Timmy’s cock is a bonus, but that doesn’t make him a better bottom to fuck than you. You’ve got an ass that has literally won a prize for crying out loud. Timmy makes a great trick, but there’s a reason I’m dating you, not him.”

De’on paused for a moment, and Jack was on the verge of conjuring up his best puppy dog eyes, when De’on continued.

“I need a guy who follows my lead. Timmy’s too hungry for cock for his own needs to be the type of partner I need. I have to be the pilot, and you like the role of co-pilot. It’s a natural fit. I don’t have the time or patience for greedy bottoms. I only fuck when I want to fuck, and you have figured out to take it when I give it, rather than demand it from me. This wouldn’t work with a co-pilot trying to tell me when and how to fly the plane.”

Jack nodded in understanding, but his mind was still stuck on the size thing.

“So wait, is Timmy bigger than you?” asked Jack.

“Actually yes. Slightly.”

“Damn. And that doesn’t bug you? I would have thought a top would get intimidated by that, if the bottom’s cock was bigger.”

“Maybe for some guys, but part of me likes that I’m the top even if a bitch is hung. I like a guy who knows his place, and nothing says that like a big-dicked sub.”

But Jack’s comment was not far off the truth. All too often when Timmy ended up in bed with a guy his own age, the guy would roll over and beg to be fucked the moment Timmy dropped his pants, based on that law-of-the-jungle sort of thing that seemed to make the dude with the bigger cock the implied top. And Timmy always had the bigger cock.

Although Timmy had the ability to top, he much preferred to bottom. Often, he would claim, it was because most guys simply couldn’t take his meat. They wanted to try, but it would rarely work. And in reality Timmy was a bit too lazy to be a top.

If younger guys frustrated him, then older guys, fell into two categories: the Well Fucked kind who would open up like the Grand Canyon at the sight of Timmy’s cock, and Total Tops Who Like Twinks who simply thought it was a sexy bonus that Timmy was so well hung. This second group ended up becoming Timmy’s target market and he quickly got the hang of zeroing in on Viagra daddies who were especially interested in dominating pretty little twinks. It worked for him for quite a while, and then guys like De’on started showing up in his roster once he got the hang of making sure a guy, any guy, really was a top.

“So is Thom also cool with Timmy’s cock? Or, wait, does that mean Thom is also hung? Jack asked.

“Well, Thom is thick. Like beer-can thick. Not all that long, but probably the thickest cocks you’ll ever see,” said De’on.

Jack held up his fingers in a circle, as if pretending to be wrapping around a thick cock.

“Thicker,” said De’on.

Jack increased the diameter.

“Thicker.”

“Damn,” said Jack, turning his face slightly away from De’on to avoid his widening eyes suggesting that he was now more than just curious.

When Thom and Timmy had first met, Thom claimed that most guys simply couldn’t handle him. Timmy thought that was just some weird pick-up line and didn’t believe him, but their first attempt at sex was almost their last. Thom wasn’t lying. If anything he had understated just how fat his meat was. Timmy’s cock was definitely longer, but Thom was packing a cock that wasn’t far off a fisting experience. What he was lacking, unfortunately, was technique because he had so rarely succeeded in fucking many guys.

What should also be said was that Thom usually got rock hard. A lot of well hung guys struggle to get enough circulation for full wood. Maybe it was because he was thick rather than long, but Thom would get so hard that bottoms had to be able to really dilate. And fast. There was no faking it.

De’on wasn’t quite sure how it came to be that Toby held a Fucking 1-0-1 for Thom and Timmy. Toby told one version of events, and Timmy another. The “how” didn’t really matter. The point was that Toby taught Thom how to open up Timmy’s hole. Dildos were used, apparently, and some breathing techniques straight out of yoga. Plus a lot of tantric bonding exercises. Toby was in his element. Thom was shy, but grateful, and Timmy was as happy as the proverbial pig in shit.

“I don’t suppose they filmed that?” asked Jack in what he hoped was a cute kinda way.

De’on laughed, a little, so Jack quickly carried on to say that sometimes thick could be too thick, and that he wanted to be able to walk the next day, and that he was so glad that he had Dee’s perfect cock for his hole.

“And yet you took me and Peter at the same time and didn’t seem to complain,” pointed out De’on, effectively calling Jack out for seeming to pander to him.

“I was just doing what I was told, Captain. Just following orders.”

Jack really hoped De’on wasn’t going to try to get him to admit that he now really wanted to get fucked by Thom, just to see if he could.

“I’m guessing you’d enjoy fucking Timmy from time to time.” said Jack.

It was a clever approach to take. Jack was attempting to tease information out of De’on while suggesting he wouldn’t try to prevent his boyfriend fucking Timmy on the side. Jack was making it clear that this decision was Dee’s to make alone, without needing to get permission from him.

And the flipside was equally as interesting. Jack had already decided that he wanted to get fucked by Thom, but that he wouldn’t dream of doing so unless De’on created that situation. He wouldn’t even raise the idea with De’on. But his legs would spread on demand if De’on commanded it.

De’on was right. Jack not only wanted to be the co-pilot, he also really loved the fact that De’on wanted to be his pilot. And he strongly suspected that it wouldn’t be long before Thom’s fat cock was struggling to fit in his hole.

De’on didn’t say any more, but started wondering if this could somehow naturally translate into a way for him to fuck Timmy again without resistance from Thom, or without Timmy having to lie or cheat. Perhaps a foursome. Perhaps some wife-swapping.

Both of these thoughts started to get his cock swelling, so he pushed down on Jack’s shoulder to roll him face down. He gently but firmly pushed Jack’s head into the pillow with one hand and started stroking his cock with the other. He spat on Jack’s hole a few times and then noticed that Jack had reached out for the lube bulb on the bedside table.

Perhaps for the first time De’on rode Jack’s ass all the while thinking about Timmy. No surprise that Jack’s mind had shifted to beer cans, and wondering how much technique Thom had picked up from Toby.

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Peter’s pace began to slow as he turned the final corner. He was conflicted and trying to sort things out in his head. Well, heads, plural.

The head at the tip of his cock was unequivocal. It yearned for the soft touch of a mouth, or that other pair of lips. It didn't care which. His balls were in complete agreement. Whereas earlier they had been happy just bouncing along, now as Peter neared his destination they had tightened into a readiness, as if preparing for combat or action. His loins were girded, so to speak. His balls were cocked.

But the other head, the one with a brain, was much less sure. Messages had been mixed, to say the least.

Things started getting complicated a week ago. Up until then only Timmy (his brother Thom’s boyfriend) knew he was coming back into town. But then word started getting out. Well it kinda had to, but Timmy insisted people could only be told in person. No emails. No texts. Nothing on the socials. Not even WhatsApp. Verbally, in person only. Timmy wasn’t taking any chances that Thom could have any clue what he and Peter were up to behind his back.

The plan seemed to be working until Peter’s lust got the better of him and he sent a not so subtle text to Jack, hinting at hooking up again. It had been about a month since the threesome with Jack and De’on, and he had been thinking about it non-stop.

There was no immediate reply from Jack, which didn’t bode well, but eventually he got a series of short, blunt messages from De’on that cleared things up somewhat, or at least enough for him to be on his way to meet up with a bottle of vodka as a sort of peace offering.

Peter rang the bell, and Jack opened the door, wearing not much more than a puzzled look on his face. Apparently De’on hadn’t explained much, if anything, about what was going down.

De’on appeared behind Jack in the doorway and told Peter to come on in. He took the vodka from Peter without it really being offered, and handed it to Jack with simple instructions of ice, limes and a splash of soda. Jack toddled off to the kitchen, and Peter wondered if he was walking a bit oddly, which would fairly soon be explained by the sound-activated buttplug controlled from an app on Dee’s phone.

Peter attempted some inane pleasantries but De’on got straight to the point.

“Like I said in the last text, we have some questions for you, and depending on your answers either you're getting tied up and fucked, or tied up and flogged.

“Tied up like last time?” asked Peter with a bit of a silly grin.

“We’ve been putting in some work on knots and restraints,” said De’on, “Shouldn’t be a problem given how much you seemed to enjoy it.”

“Well it is why I’m back for Round Two” said Peter, looking directly towards the kitchen, as if De’on wasn’t there.

“So why are you in town?” De’on asked Peter. “Did you come back to hook up with Timmy again?”

“Wait, what? said Peter in genuine surprise. “It was Thom’s birthday this week. Timmy threw him a surprise party last night, and asked me to help out. My job was to get Thom out of the house long enough for Timmy to get everything set up. And I wouldn’t hook up with Timmy. He’s my brother’s boyfriend! Why would you even think that?”

“I saw you and Timmy both coming out of the garden shed at Phil’s party,” said Jack walking back in from the kitchen with the drinks.

“Oh my god, is that what this is all about?” said Peter.

“You guys looked pretty hot and bothered and Timmy was retying his swimsuit when he came out,” said Jack.

“Okay that was not what you think, at all. That was when Timmy first asked for help with Thom’s surprise party. Those guys read each other’s phones, so we had to do all the planning in person, and every time we started talking Thom would come by. Phil asked me to go and get some ice from the shed, and Timmy took the chance to get rid of some empties, and we used the chance for a quick planning session.”

“And you didn’t get in a quick fuck at the same time?” asked De’on?

“Why on earth would you…” started Peter before De’on interrupted.

“Jack could taste ass on your cock when you came back here for the threesome after the pool party, so he knew you’d been fucking someone”.

Peter shifted back and forth a bit and looked down at his feet. “Shit, you guys are going to get me into trouble. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone”.

“Promised who?”

“It was when I went upstairs to use the bathroom. I can't remember his name.”

“Well that's convenient”

“But you know him. I walked into the bathroom and there was a guy giving head to this dude. The guy on his knees just ran when he saw me. But the other one already had his pants down, so I kinda took the opportunity. I swear I only fucked him for a minute before someone else started knocking on the door. Roger, his name was Roger.”

Jack and De’on looked at each other but had no idea who that was.

“Um, you're real good friends with his boyfriend,” Peter said looking at De'on. “Which is why I didn’t think I should say anything.”

De’on was confused. He couldn't think of anyone he knew with a boyfriend named Roger.

“Ok so none of this is checking out,” said De’on. “Looks like your ass is getting flogged.”

“It was Toby's boyfriend,” said Peter after a pause.

“Rajah!” shouted Jack and De'on at the same time.

“Dude, seriously, the south Asian guy? It’s Rajah, not Roger.”

Ok, yeah, a brown guy. Nice ass, but kinda loose, so I wasn’t the first one there that day.”

“I’m surprised he settled for your cock, not your fist,” said Jack, but De’on gave him a look to drop it.

Peter’s story was plausible enough. Raj was Toby’s boyfriend, but the two of them were notorious for having sex with everyone except each other. And De’on couldn’t remember seeing Raj at the party, so it was entirely possible he spent the whole time fooling around with whoever he could find upstairs.

Jack was a little disappointed that it was turning out that Timmy might have had enough integrity not to fuck his boyfriend's brother. Meanwhile De’on was realizing that the exact same thing was leaving him feeling relieved. Whereas Jack would prefer Timmy to be an unlikeable and unfaithful little piece of shit, De’on wanted Timmy to be faithful to Thom. But even that was complicated, because when he really thought it through he knew that he didn’t want Thom and Timmy to be entirely monogamous.

Peter was really horny, but also frustrated. Jack was getting over stimulated by the butt plug so he went and made another round of drinks simply because he didn't know what else to do right at that moment. But De’on was still trying to figure out what all of this meant.

Peter couldn't tell if the lads were buying his explanations, but pretty soon De'on started giving instructions. He told Peter to get naked and lie face up on the bed. As soon as he did that Jack appeared with some rope.

This time it was Jack that tied the knots and Peter could tell immediately he was going to be more seriously restrained. He wondered how it was that Jack was so good at this. Who had Jack been practicing on? He tried to imagine Jack tying up De’on and it just seemed silly. Surely that wasn’t what the lads got up to, with little Jack, the bottom, restraining big and muscular De’on, the top. But within a few minutes it was clear that Peter couldn’t move and that Jack wasn’t fooling around. This was at once both exciting and slightly disturbing. Peter had never been in this position before. De’on had done such a mediocre job with the ropes last time that he could have gotten free at any time. This was on a whole different level.

De’on appeared again and handed Jack a cockring and glanced sideways at Peter. Jack apparently knew without question that this was an instruction to put the cock ring on Peter. It was a three part device separating each of his balls. Peter was already semi-erect from the thrill of the bondage, and now he got fully hard as Jack handled his cock. He was pretty sure that Jack could have put the cockring on him much faster but was taking longer than strictly necessary and seemed to be enjoying holding and handling Peter’s dick. It was possible that Jack was just being extremely thorough, but Peter was quite sure it was more than that. He studied Jack’s face for clues but Jack just kept his focus on the cock, with half an eye to see if De’on was watching, but he was out of view. Then Jack pressed a button on the top of the ring and it started vibrating intermittently.

De’on was naked when he finally reappeared, and the first thing he did was lead Jack to the foot of the bed, and gently pressed down on one shoulder. Jack instinctively dropped to his knees and waited. De’on put one finger on Jack’s bottom lip and applied the slightest pressure to open Jack’s mouth, and then brought his cock up to Jack’s lips. Peter watched in anticipation as Jack followed Dee’s lead to fellate him. It was quite beautiful to watch the way these two guys engaged sexually, but of course Peter was already wondering when they would move onto the bed with him.

After what seemed an eternity (and a masterclass in cocksucking) De’on raised Jack to his feet by nudging him slightly under the arms, and then much to Peter’s surprise, De’on dropped to his knees and started sucking Jack. The modest size of Jack’s cock meant that De’on could easily swallow it to the base, and at one point even had Jack’s balls in his mouth at the same time. Not for the first time Peter was jealous. The look on Jack’s face told him this felt as good as he imagined it would. Peter had an honest 8 inches, so most guys struggled to swallow him fully and he had never experienced what he was watching.

After a few minutes of this De’on swung Jack around, bent him over, and slowly eased the buttplug out of Jack's ass. Peter hadn’t even known it was there. De’on wasted no time replacing the plug with his own cock. He’d been stroking to stay hard all the time he was sucking Jack.

For the next half hour Peter was treated to a wonderful demonstration in how to fuck a bottom right. He had to admit that De’on was a talented top. It was no surprise to him that Jack was a bottom that tops would drive across town for, but tops are not always as talented as De’on. Some guys top because they’re too scared or ashamed to be a bottom. But De’on was clearly a natural born top, producing beautiful rhythms with his pelvis. Peter’s version of fucking was basically in and out. But Dee’s hips were performing a love dance and Jack was the perfect partner. It was poetry in motion.

Peter was sure that this would be the point when they would finally join him on the bed where he was still tied up tight but then De’on started picking up the pace. Jack started stroking his own cock and by the wordless sort of communication of practiced lovers Jack shot a stream of cum (some of which landed on Peter’s left foot) at the exact same moment the Dee’s back arched in orgasm. The lads had cum simultaneously. De’on pulled out, reached down for Jack’s hand, and they walked together into the ensuite bathroom.

They showered for what seemed an age, and Peter imagined Jack washing De’on from head to toe like a harem attendant. He wasn’t far off the truth. When the lads finally emerged Jack went off to the kitchen, and from the sounds of things made some more drinks. Meanwhile De’on started untying Peter and told him it was time to leave. It was at this point that he realized his clothes weren’t where he’d left them.

To say that Peter was pissed was an understatement. He had been thrilled by the show he’d been allowed to watch, and it occurred to him that it would have been worse to have been blindfolded and forced to just listen. But he was hornier than hell now. He wondered if there was a way he could still turn this into sex, even as De’on walked him out to the door, opened it, and showed Peter that his clothes were waiting for him out in the hallway.

“Dude, this is crazy.” Peter said.

“It is what it is,” said De’on. “Jack doesn’t buy your story about the planning of the surprise party. And until I make my own mind up we’re running with the assumption that you don’t deserve sex with us yet.”

Peter knew he couldn’t stand naked in the doorway forever, and also that the moment he stepped outside De’on would close and lock the door behind him. He was angry, not to mention sexually frustrated.

“Jack clearly thinks that Timmy would cheat on Thom, but I’m getting the sense you can’t decide,” said Peter.

“We spent our time fucking, not chatting, so it’s not like I know Timmy that well,” said De’on.

“Let me guess, you want to believe he wouldn’t screw around, but deep down you want to fuck him again.”

Dee’s silence told Peter he had basically nailed it.

“You and Jack clearly have something sweet going on. I’m actually a little jealous even though I’m not the boyfriend type.”

This was a lie of course. Peter was not just a little jealous of what De’on had with Jack. He was consumed with anger that guys like De’on seemed to have no trouble getting boyfriends when he couldn’t.

“We’re going to chat with Raj and see if your story checks out,” said De’on. “If it does, and Jack and I both believe you we’ll see about inviting you back.”

Peter scoffed at the idea that he’d come back a third time after being humiliated this way. “Yeah, no, probably not. Sure I guess I could get into fucking Jack again, but watching his little peepee flop about while you nailed him reminded me how much more satisfying it is to fuck bottoms with huge cocks. The size of a bottom’s cock shouldn’t make any difference, but somehow it does. You know what I mean, right?”

And with that Peter stepped into the hall and walked towards his pile of clothes. De’on closed the door, and went to find Jack in the kitchen. He gave him a long and soulful kiss, paused for a second, and looking at him deeply into the eyes said: “You were right. Peter is definitely fucking Timmy.”

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Jack raised his wrist so that De’on could read the message that had just come in on his watch.  De’on slowed his fucking, holding on to Jack’s wrist to read the small print on the display, said something like “Huh”, and then went back to hitting Jack’s ass from behind.

The lads usually stuck to a No Devices rule during sex, but Jack hadn’t even thought to take off his watch because this fuck was fairly last minute, and not in the bedroom.
Jack had been in Salt Lake on business for two days and was supposed to have flown back in yesterday, but August thunderstorms over the Midwest had delayed the flight. He finally made it back a day and a half late.  Meanwhile De’on was flying out to Atlanta in a few hours, so this was suddenly their only window to fuck for the whole week.  

De’on collected Jack curbside at arrivals and circled back around to park in the airport garage and looked for a parking spot as far from the entrance as possible.  He backed his truck into a stall between two cars that looked dusty. 

Jack's right foot was on the ground, and his left shin was raised and resting on the tailgate of Dee’s truck. De’on opened Jack’s carry-on, grabbed a sweater to cushion Jack's left knee and started rooting around, looking for lube in the toiletries bag. 

“Where's your lube?” asked De’on. There was an ever so slight hesitation before Jack replied “I didn't pack any. It was a work trip without you, and it was only supposed to be overnight.” He instantly wished he hadn’t added the last bit, but De'on didn't seem to notice or care and was now stretching to reach his own bag and grabbed lube out of the side flap.

Jack was stressing about what he had said about not taking lube on the trip. The thing was, he had in fact packed lube in one of those miniature shampoo bottles.  He hadn’t intended to lie to De’on.  He wasn’t sure why he said that to De'on.  He probably just panicked. And now he wondered if De’on was testing him, to see if he’d been fucking some Mormon boy in Salt Lake. In fact he hadn't, but it had definitely come close on last year's version of this trip, with a new colleague from the Seattle office. Mutual blow jobs had been exchanged, and the Seattle guy was clearly hoping for more this year. But Jack had held back. The guy was cute, but Jack was already aware just how addicted he was becoming to Dee’s take-charge approach, and which the other guy definitely didn't have. 

Dee's mind, meanwhile, wandered to something Salt Lake adjacent, but in this case, a wonderful encounter with a Mormon missionary on a layover in Tokyo a few years ago. He was shopping in a 7-11 when he got cruised by a corn-fed Iowa farm boy. The lad started chatting De’on up, and asked if they could hang out because he was desperate to speak English with someone after three months of only hearing Japanese.

De’on knew full well that the guy would have been able to chat with his missionary companion but invited him back to his room. Just to chat, of course. The guy talked constantly about how much he was missing his girlfriend and it didn't take long for De'on to suggest he could help him out with that. 

It started with the idea that they could jerk off together but somehow De'on found himself rimming the Mormon, and then fucking him. After insisting he'd never done anything like that before, his ass opened so wide and so fast De’on was left thinking of the Grand Canyon. But what De’on really remembered about him was how soft his lips were. It was like kissing marshmallows. 

Back in the garage, Jack and De'on had opened the truck doors for a bit of extra privacy but it wasn’t necessary.  No one came anywhere near them for the seven minutes it took them both to nut. Jack pulled his pants back up, and turned around to kiss his boyfriend.  He was quite happy knowing that De’on would now be walking through the airport smelling slightly of cum, and shouldn’t have any immediate urge to fuck a stranger.

De’on went to put his lube back in his bag, paused, and then handed the bottle to Jack.“I won’t be needing that.  Take it home for me.”

Then he handed Jack the keys to his truck, gave him one last kiss, and just before he started walking towards Departures he said: “Don’t reply to that text. I’ll deal with Peter.”

Jack waited until De’on was out of the parking garage before starting the drive home.  He’d driven a pick-up before but Dee’s was on the larger side and it was his first time driving it.  He was more than a little anxious and drove home very carefully.  It was a neat feeling to be driving his boyfriend’s truck, but he couldn’t seem to shake Breland’s Don’t Touch My Truck playing in the back of his mind.

He made it home without a problem and started unpacking.  First thing he did was put the bottle of lube on the table on Dee’s side of the bed, then he started unpacking his own carry-on, and when he got to the liquids bag he held the miniature shampoo bottle in his hand for a minute and thought about throwing it out before deciding to put it at the back of his sock drawer.

He probably would have just ignored the whole issue, but De’on had handed him his own lube and made a point of saying he didn’t need it because Jack wasn’t on the trip with him.  Jack sighed, and realized it was time they had a chat about whether they were going to be doing the monogamy thing.

Jack hadn’t had sex with anyone else since their first serious hook-up weekend in Chicago. And he didn’t get the sense that De’on was having sex outside of their relationship.  De’on always talked about Timmy in the past tense for example, and he was always ready (and very physically able) to fuck Jack at a moment’s notice.  In fact, Jack was pretty sure that De’on was much less promiscuous than he was himself.  It was likely going to be Jack who was going to have a harder time with monogamy than De’on.

Neither of them were prudes or sexually uptight. De’on was a hunk of a man and great top, but he definitely wasn’t a fuckboy. Jack, on the other hand, was pretty much your text book definition of a slut and was already starting to get urges to enjoy some more varied dick by the six-month mark when De’on had raised the issue of him making all of their sexual decisions for them.  It had certainly kept Jack’s attention. Jack was glad to not have to go out and look for sex, but at the same time he enjoyed being hit on by studs.  That still happened, of course, and now he was getting worried about coming across as a cock-tease if he didn’t put out.

It’s not like they had been totally exclusive. They’d already had the threesome with Peter, for example. Thinking about that reminded Jack about the text message from Peter that had arrived when De’on was fucking him behind the truck.

It was no surprise that it was Jack that Peter had texted when he was coming back into town for the weekend.  There were more than a few problems with this. 

First, he had messaged Jack alone, not De’on, or the two of them together. He should have known there was no way that Jack was meeting up with, or hooking up with him without De’on.

Second, Jack had seen Peter and Timmy coming out of a garden shed, looking all hot and bothered, at Phil’s Pride Party, despite Timmy dating Peter’s brother Thom.

Third, De’on made it really clear when Jack had told him about the shed stuff that he wanted to punish Peter for whatever had apparently happened.  De’on might no longer be fucking Timmy but he didn’t like the idea of Peter nailing his own brother’s boyfriend.

And all of this is made even more complicated by the fact that De’on used to fuck Timmy weekly before Jack came on the scene, so De’on wasn’t exactly popular with Thom, and Timmy wasn’t Jack’s favourite twink either.

De’on flew back into town on Saturday morning, and Jack was there, curbside at the airport to pick him up.  Up until the last minute Jack hadn’t decided if he was going to drive his SUV, or Dee’s truck.

Did he want to look like a housewife collecting her husband in her own car (which would then mean De’on would be riding home in the passenger seat), or like the hot new girlfriend driving daddy’s truck? Were they already at the old married couple stage, or was it still fresh and exciting? 

Jack drove the truck.  And De’on, who was already standing in the arrivals drive-thru, smiled to himself when he saw his petite boyfriend perched high behind the steering wheel as if trying to reach the pedals, and driving his truck slightly too cautiously.  He liked the look and feel of all of that.  Naturally once De’on had his bag in the back, Jack slid over to the passenger side, and De’on took the driver’s seat, which felt right, literally and metaphorically.

They spent the rest of that day in some protracted foreplay scenes.  Once the laundry was started they sat on the couch in one of their favourite positions, with Jack in Dee’s lap, facing him, kissing and playing with each other's nipples.

Later, when they got back from groceries De’on lay back in bed with Jack’s ass in his face, and rimmed him like it was their anniversary, but with their hands entwined so that Jack couldn’t stroke his cock.  Actually, either cock.

And while the steaks were marinating, De’on gave Jack the gift he had got for him in Atlanta. A bluetooth-enabled vibrating buttplug. He’d already downloaded the app to his phone, so all he needed to do was pair the device.  He spent about 20 minutes teasing Jack’s hole with the plug and once it was in he started working his way through all of the settings in the app.

Eventually he left it on Sound Activated, so it only vibrated if there was enough noise picked up by Dee’s phone, which meant Jack never knew when it would be triggered.
Jack was starting to wonder if he was going to get fucked tonight when the doorbell rang (which also resulted in his plug vibrating).

He opened the door and much to his surprise found Peter standing there, looking both excited and nervous, and holding a bottle of vodka. This was looking very much like their next threesome. 

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For the moment Jack is lying still and thinking.  He’s trying to decide how he feels about waiting patiently while De’on ties him up.  Obviously it is a very deliberate act to allow oneself to be restrained, without attempting to resist. It isn’t abduction, or involuntary captivity.  It’s very voluntary. By choice.

De’on is tying Jack up as an act of punishment. The crime was theft.

It all started so accidentally and innocently. A pair of Dee’s underwear somehow ended up in Jack’s gym bag.  Jack found the polyester Nike sports briefs when he got home and was starting laundry. They must have landed in Jack’s bag when the lads were getting changed beside each other in the gym. It was a pair of the 3” micro trunks that De'on wore under his sweat pants. 

Jack sniffed them, to see if they were clean or dirty.  He had them halfway into the washing machine, when he pulled them back out and inhaled the scent on them a second time because his cock had started to swell. Dee’s sweat was an aphrodisiac to Jack.  He knew this already because he loved being close to Dee’s armpits when getting fucked.  He’d turn his head to one side to inhale the aroma from a pit.  It was better than poppers. Natural, and seemingly formulated exactly for Jack’s pleasure.  
No scientist in a lab could create that effect. But it had never occurred to Jack that he could smell De’on, on demand, from his clothes.  This opened up a whole new realm of possibilities.  

The potency of Eau de De’on faded over a couple of days, leading Jack to think about how to capture that moment again.  So the next time they were at the gym together, Jack stole the used underwear out of Dee’s bag when he went off to the shower in his towel. He’d brought the previous pair with him and switched the old pair for the new ones.  

As soon as he got home he held them up to his nose.  It worked.  For the next 24 hours or so Jack could inhale De’on whenever he felt the urge. Jack wasted no time and pulled them over his head, put the crotch right on his nose, and immediately started jerking off. He came in no time, though that wasn’t necessarily surprising for Jack.

This became a semi-regular thing. Jack always had a spare pair ready to swap out for a freshly worn pair. Sometimes because they were at the gym together, or just because they were hooking up after De’on had just been to the gym.  And then one day the plan backfired.  Jack had just put the replacement underwear into Dee’s bag and was rooting around for today’s pair when he realized the old pair was black, but today’s pair was white.  Jack was holding the white pair in his hand when De’on came back from the shower sooner than expected.  The jig was up.

Jack held the white shorts up to his nose and inhaled.  His eyes rolled up in delight, perhaps a tad theatrically, but nevertheless genuinely from pleasure.  De’on smiled but didn’t say anything, and took the shorts back from Jack. 

 
De’on sent Jack a text the next day telling him there was going to be a “punishment” for stealing his shorts.  It hadn’t taken De’on long to realize what had been going on when he got home and found the black pair in his bag.  It was a mix of feeling proud that his scent was such a turn on for Jack, and annoyance that Jack had done this behind his back. 

So that weekend De’on turned up with some extra rope and restraints.  He positioned Jack face up in the middle of the bed, propped up on some pillows, and set about tying his hands and feet to the bed frame.  

This was the point at which Jack started his inner dialogue about what it meant to clearly be consenting to being restrained, by virtue of his actions. Or lack of action.  He wondered if he should pretend to struggle, so that De’on could pretend to overpower him, but decided that that would be too contrived, and not genuine. Not to mention that resistance would be futile given the strength difference between them.

They had arrived at the point in their relationship where Jack naturally agreed to whatever De’on wanted him to do.  De’on no longer asked for permission.  He didn’t ask if he could tie Jack up.  He simply announced that he wanted to do it, which was essentially the same as telling Jack that he was going to do it.

Jack thought that made it a bit passive aggressive.  Why would De’on need to tell Jack what he would like to do if it was understood that he wouldn’t be asking for permission?  Jack was slightly annoyed by that. He thought he’d like it better if De’on had simply said to be ready at 4:00pm, and that the session would be bondage.  Actually, even happier still if he had simply instructed Jack to be available at 4:00pm.  Heck, take it a step further, and not even announce the time.

Jack’s mind wandered again. He wondered if De’on knew how much it meant to him that Dee’s initial and immediate attraction to him had happened face-on, and before De’on had even seen his famous butt. It’s not that Jack minded when guys decided they wanted to fuck him immediately they as soon as they saw his ass, but it was refreshing that De’on was attracted to his face first, and his bum second. Not that that changed the fact that within five minutes of meeting De’on was rimming Jack in a bathroom stall in Denver airport.

De’on was now looking around in his bag for some more rope and clearly in no hurry, so Jack thought back to the moment when the two of them started getting serious. They spent most of their first real date just talking about books.  They’re both readers more than talkers, so it was a huge relief to discover a topic of mutual interest, even though it was quickly apparent they had quite different tastes.  De’on read a lot of serious stuff, like James Baldwin and Audre Lorde, but also a surprising amount of science fiction. 

 
Jack, on the other hand, was mainly into gay romance. He’d started out with mild stuff like Maurice, and Heartstopper, but quickly moved on to more suggestive story lines such as Call Me By Your Name.  He’d just started getting into erotica and smut around the time he met De’on. 

 
No surprise they both had Substack accounts, but they were taken aback when they found their only point of overlap was a female writer, Ella Light. Jack really liked the way she wrote about control and domination, and De’on was fascinated by how she wrote her strong male characters. Jack had just started thinking about one of her series, The Exhibition, when his daydreaming came to an end.

De’on had stripped down to a pair of gym shorts. The white ones he’d caught Jack holding, so Jack wondered how much symbolism that was supposed to hold.  He straddled Jack’s face, his crotch an inch away from Jack’s nose.  The scent was strong even with normal breathing, but Jack wasn’t going to look a gift cock in the mouth, and started inhaling deeply and his cock sprung into life.

De’on stood up, took the shorts off, and covered Jack’s nose with them, just like Jack had been doing himself to jerk off the last few weeks.  Did De’on somehow know this, or was this just an obvious thing to do?  

For the next half hour De’on edged himself in Jack’s mouth. More than once Jack got a delicious taste of precum, but De’on was clearly not planning on a quick cumshot. He spun around, so that now his ass was just inches away from Jack’s tongue, and started playing with Jack’s cock.  This was a rare thing.  De’on had touched and stroked and kissed and licked Jack from head to toe. He had rimmed him like a king the first time they had met.  But he had never played with Jack’s cock before, much less sucked it.

Jack had likewise never rimmed De’on before.  It had always been the other way around.  But with Dee’s ass hovering in front of his face he decided to reach out with his tongue.  Not for the first time in this session Jack thought about what it meant to have consented to be restrained, and that it was so weird to be even more of a passive partner than he had ever been before.  His hands were tied, literally.  The only thing he could contribute was his mouth and tongue.  So he did. He figured he had nothing to lose.  If De’on didn’t want to get rimmed he would pull away or change positions. Jack couldn’t move, but De’on could, and it was understood that De’on would do whatever he wanted.

Jack licked Dee’s left butt cheek, and the reaction was subtle but instant.  De’on leaned back to give Jack full access to his hole.  Clearly this was what he was supposed to have done.  As he rimmed his boyfriend Jack wondered if the restraints were somehow part of the scene in a way he hadn’t figured until now.  De’on could have simply sat on Jack’s face any time he’d wanted to, so why was this happening now, and in this way?  It didn’t seem much like punishment to rim one of the finest asses he’d ever seen.  Heck, there were plenty of rich, old men who would have paid money for this opportunity, so where was the punishment in this session?

Jack wondered if De’on had somehow felt he couldn’t get rimmed as part of regular sex.  That it wasn’t manly enough.  Was this session punishment for Jack, or was it a way for De’on to introduce things he had been craving, but couldn’t bring himself to ask for?  So far Jack was getting his cock sucked and he was rimming De’on.  What other new things were going to crop up as part of his “punishment”?

Jack now had his tongue right into Dee’s hole.  It was a really tight fit, but De’on was clearly enjoying it, because it had started to loosen, just a little. Jack wasn’t going to be able to hold off shooting if De’on didn’t stop sucking him soon.  Perhaps a taste of that gave him away, because De’on stopped sucking, and instead squeezed Jack’s balls real tight with one hand, while jerking himself off with the other. It was only a minute before Jack felt a wad of Dee’s cum hit his cock.  Then another spray down his stomach.

De’on swung around to stand beside Jack and untied one of his hands and put it on his cock so Jack could start jerking himself off.  De’on had his crotch right beside Jack’s head.  With his left hand he pushed Jack’s face straight into his pubes and with his right hand he slapped Jack’s balls. Jack was surprised by just how forceful each slap was.

He was close to cumming, but part of him was starting to enjoy the pain and he wanted that to continue. Maybe this was Dee’s attempt at punishment, but it turned out to be yet more pleasure for Jack. He breathed in deeply, getting both the scent of Dee’s sweat and his cum.  He couldn’t hold it, and a load of cum arced out of his cock, hitting his own chin.

De’on stopped slapping Jack’s balls and scooped Jack’s cum off his chin and into his mouth.  Jack would have preferred Dee’s cum to his own, but beggars can’t be choosers.  De’on finished untying Jack, but he didn’t move, and in a minute De’on was lying three quarters draped over Jack holding him tight in a way he’d never done before.

Jack fell asleep wondering what he might need to do to get a punishment that was all about getting his balls squeezed and slapped. De’on was asleep a moment later, realizing his ass hadn’t felt that relaxed and happy in years.

A keen observer would have noticed something that Jack or De’on hadn’t paid any special attention to: neither of them had spoken a word aloud the whole session.

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Buy me some sweaty shorts.

“Have you ever topped a guy?” De’on asked Jack.

They were lying in bed on a Sunday morning having just fucked.  They didn’t often do the post-coital pillow talk thing, neither of them being big conversationalists, but it just seemed right this morning.  

De’on was lying on his back and Jack was using his bicep as a pillow, facing away.  Jack was pretty sure he was experiencing Cum Bum Leakage, but De’on didn’t seem to mind that his thigh was probably getting a bit messy. They had fucked lying on their sides, so all De’on had done once he’d shot was roll onto his back.  Jack essentially stayed where he was.  He could have almost fallen back to sleep if it wasn’t for Dee’s question about whether he had ever been a top.

“Twice,” replied Jack. “The first time was in high school, and the second time was last year.”

“Don’t hold back any details. I want to know if I need to perform a risk assessment.”

They both laughed. But De’on was perhaps being slightly more honest than Jack realized.  

“The first time was after gym class, in my final year of high school when we were still living in Vancouver, before I moved back east for university.  Everyone had left because it was the Friday of a long weekend, but my Mom had the car and was going to pick me up in about an hour, so I was taking my time.”

Jack told De’on about how he loved being in water.  He had been taught to swim at a young age, with formal swim lessons with the very ancient Mrs. Brown who had been a nationally ranked swimmer in her youth.  But it wasn’t just swimming.  Jack loved hot tubs and thermal springs and showers.  Especially showers.  There was something about the feeling of a stream of water drumming on his skin that calmed him.  No prizes for guessing that he liked it hot and hard. Also no prizes for guessing where his later interest in watersports came from.

With his classmates gone, and the shower room empty, Jack was able to use the second shower from the end which for some reason had the best water pressure.  He spent at least a few minutes with a stream of water massaging his scalp, then the back of his neck, and finally he turned around and had it straight onto his cock.

He was just thinking about bending over and seeing if he could get it to hit his butthole when he saw another student watching him from the doorway. Jack turned his body slightly to the left to hide his erection, but then looked back over his right shoulder to get a look at who it was. His look back was apparently cruisy enough that the kid took it as an invitation. 

He was one year below Jack in school, and recognized him but didn’t know his name.  They’d never met or had any formal reason to interact.  Within a minute the kid was naked and turning on the shower beside Jack’s, as if some casual observer could believe that they were each showering beside each other by coincidence in an otherwise completely empty room.

Jack was 17, so he figured the kid was 16.  Neither of them was terribly well advanced in terms of physique.  Both had the classic twink body, lightly muscled, overgrown bushes of hair in the crotch and armpits but nowhere else, and abs flatter than Kansas.

When the kid reached up to adjust the nozzle Jack was suddenly aware of the smell from his armpit. He’d smelled plenty of sweat on other boys and men before, but this was something more. It almost made his nostrils flare.  This wasn’t a stale, nasty smell. It was an arousing aroma.  Jack wondered if his crotch had the same thing going on. The water from the shower quickly doused the pheromones but that memory lingered with Jack for months after, and he was confused why no other guy had that kind of scent until finally, a few years later he experienced something similar again on a flight attendant from the Dominican Republic at Wreck Beach.  And then, most recently, with De'on.

The kid wasted no time in the shower that day..  He soaped up his hole, and attempted to impale himself on Jack’s cock.  Jack had fooled around with a few of his cousins last summer, and made out with a teen from the neighborhood, but had never done anything anal.  He knew he was gay, and had come out to himself, but the furthest he’d gotten with another boy was mutual masturbation, and not even touching the other cock.  Just his own.

This 16 year old knew what he wanted.  Jack did his best to play the role suddenly thrust upon him, but to be honest he probably delayed things unnecessarily, fumbling around trying to find the right angle to get his cock into the almost virgin hole. When he did finally get it in part way it was suddenly out again because he honestly had no idea how to fuck. It was harder than it looked on the internet. 

In the end the kid took charge, pushed Jack against the shower wall and guided Jack into his ass like a pro, while jerking his own cock.  They both came in a minute.  First the kid and then Jack almost immediately after when he felt the kids’ hole suddenly tighten big time on his cock which caused him to pull out and shoot all at the same time.

For the longest time Jack thought of himself as a top, but when he told the story to a friend a year later the guy laughed and said “Sweetheart, you didn’t fuck him.  He fucked you.”

It wasn’t until Jack bottomed for the first time that he realized he’d spent the last year and a half wondering what it had felt like for the kid.  Any time he thought back to that shower, all he thought about was what it must feel like to have a cock in his ass, and never about wanting to stick his cock in another butt.

All through the telling of the story De’on had been distractedly strumming on one of Jack’s nipples with his thumb, but he suddenly stopped and asked a question.

“Wait a sec, what’s age of consent up there in Canada?”

“Don’t worry, it was all legal.  Sixteen, even for anal.  Which isn’t something I even thought about until a few years later and a guy made me pull out my ID.  We were just horny teenagers.  It all seemed like it was perfectly natural.”

“Damn. Wish I’d grown up in Canada.”

“Why do I suspect that didn’t stop you from fucking around left and right?” Jack teased.

“Well you know how committed I am to being a law abiding citizen” said De’on sarcastically. “But let's get into the shower because your ass is making a mess of my leg.”

“Your cum is just trying to find its way home.”

“I think that's more than just my cum.”

“Oh, sorry babe!”

De'on scooped Jack up in his arms and carried him off to the bathroom, which probably resulted in a bit more leakage than if he'd walked, but Jack wasn't complaining. He liked it when De'on was all butch and manly. They soaped each others’ backs.

Now tell me about the time last year.”

“It was on the trip to Puerto Vallarta, when I was breaking up with Danny.  We should have cancelled that vacation, but so much of it was pre-paid.  And I think Danny thought that perhaps it might save what we had.  I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen, and besides, we were there as part of a large group.”

Jack caught Danny cheating on him by the second day of the trip, and moved out of their room.  Luckily the Sams had a room with two queen beds, so Jack crashed there for most of the rest of the trip.  But he was motivated to try to score every night, because sleeping in the bed beside the two Sams was traumatizing in its own way.

“Which one of them is the top?” asked De’on. “I can’t figure them out.”

“Korean Sam, nominally. But to be honest I don’t think a lot of penetration goes on.  Seems to be more role-playing than sex.  And lots of animal sounds.”

“Weird.”

“Totally. Please don’t ask for more details.  I’m doing my best to erase my memories of what went on in their bed.”

“Ok, but what’s up with Korean Sam’s nipples?”

“You mean, like, where are they?”

“Exactly.  It’s like they stopped growing when he was 12, and the rest of him forgot about them.”

“He’s got an amazing body, and really beautiful pecs, but it’s hard to look at him without getting confused.  Oh my god, you know what he needs?”

And they both said ‘nipple rings’ at the same time.

“Like when people sometimes tattoo eyebrows on.  If he pierced those nips.  Small rings, starter size, 14 gauge.  Suddenly his chest might look normal.”

“Let's get him a gift certificate for his birthday.”

Jack continued with his story.  Every time he tried to hook-up to avoid having to sleep in the other bed with the Sams, the guy was there with a boyfriend or was sharing a room.  Finally, on his last night, the group was all at Blue Chairs for the show on the roof.  Danny at least had the decency not to show up.  Jack was making his way to the bathroom at the back when one of the local Mexican busboys grabbed his hand and pulled him into a storage room.  This guy had been cruising Jack for a few days, and Jack had certainly been admiring his eyes because he had lashes that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a camel.  Jack’s Spanish was limited to ordering beer and asking for el baño, and the busboy had no English, so there hadn't been any conversation or banter.

The storage room was unlit save for a small window, and the door was usually left ajar, but staff would close it for quick sex with patrons.  Jack didn’t know it, but so long as the door stayed closed none of the other workers would come in (though they would definitely be watching to see who came out).  Even in the low light it was quickly apparent that the busboy was hung like a hamster.  Any dreams Jack might have had about finally getting fucked that week went out of the window, but he was ridiculously horny, and slightly drunk, so when the busboy started going down on him he decided to just bend him over some boxes and fuck his perky little Mexican ass.  And so he did.

Jack was pretty sure the busboy was getting off on the concept of getting fucked by a gringo in the storage room, more than the actual fuck itself.  But Jack had been fucked enough times now to know what was required of a top, better than some tops themselves.  It was not for nothing that the boys in ancient Greece were bottoms first and didn’t graduate to topping until older.  So in the end Jack performed a perfectly acceptable fuck and filled the busboy’s ass with a week’s worth of frustrated cum.

“Did you enjoy it enough to want to make it a regular thing?” asked De’on.

“You offering?” said Jack, coquettishly.

“Ah, no!” said De'on, after an almost imperceptible short pause. “Just wondering if I have to start creating situations for you.”

Jack had noticed the slight pause but decided to let it slide for now, and instead said “I don’t think so.  Never say never, but it was a pretty specific time and place sort of thing.  It’s rare that I meet a guy and want to fuck him.  And believe me, I get offers from plenty of bottoms.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“It’s just that I’m attracted to a certain energy, and those guys are pretty much always tops.  But where’s all this coming from, this business of me topping?”

“I was just trying to figure out what it would look like, to see you fucking a hole.”

“And you want to see that?”“Actually, no, I don’t think I do.  But I figure eventually something like that might happen because it might make sense.”

“Like how?” asked Jack, still trying to piece together these questions about him topping.

“If Peter comes sniffing around, wanting more. He needs to be made to pay for fucking his brother’s boyfriend.”

“So this is about Timmy?” asked Jack, stiffening slightly.

“More about Thom, honestly.  I like him, and he is totally in love with Timmy.  I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“Not sure if you’re the guy he wants help from when it comes to Timmy.”

“Fair. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun punishing Peter.”

Here was yet another reason for Jack to pause, the idea of punishing Peter.  Sure, it was weird seeing Timmy and Peter coming out of the garden shed at Phil’s Party, especially given that Timmy’s boyfriend Thom is Peter’s brother, but what did De’on have in mind with ‘punishment’.

“So if Peter's not going to be fucking me will the punishment be me fucking Peter while you’re fucking me?” asked Jack.

“Not a bad idea.  I definitely don’t want Peter’s cock in your ass ever again.”

“Not going to lie, I liked being the meat in that sandwich and having two cocks at once.”“Oh for sure we’ll do that again, but I can think of other cocks that deserve your hole a lot more.”

“Oh really? Do tell.”“Don’t get ahead of yourself babe. Those are my decisions now. Your ass belongs to me, remember?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Jack as he took the soap and knelt down in the shower to start washing Dee’s legs.

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Send a few bucks towards some toys.

Please accept my apologies, but I just can't stop cruising you. You might think I'm staring. But honestly, I am simply admiring your beauty. A lot. 

You know what's crazy? You're not even my type. Well, that's a bit of a lie. But when I saw your pic on Grindr I appreciated your eyes, and your smile, and then moved on. But now, seeing you in person here tonight, well, I’m captivated. You have a light, and energy about you in person that is both charming and sexy.

Problem is, I'm no use to you. I'm twice your age. At least. Admittedly that hasn't stopped you looking back, checking me out. Maybe you have a thing for grey hair, or a lived-in face. Maybe you enjoy hanging out beside a dad bod to give contrast to your slender frame.

Neither of us are directly smiling at each other. Did you notice that? I wonder if that's disinterest from you, but there’s no mistaking the question in your eyes. You're searching for a sign in my eyes that I’m going to approach you. But I can’t do that. 

I would be wasting your time. I'm a married man, with kids.  Well, with pets. Actually, tropical fish. But there would be no way to fit you into my life. It would have to be stolen moments, in secret locations. Like the back stairwell in my apartment building that no one uses any more because it no longer goes anywhere useful. You could stand two steps up from me, bent over, while I rim your ass from here till Tuesday.

Or the fitting rooms at the H&M near my office. They're always understaffed in the afternoon on weekdays. No one checks who comes and goes, so it would be easy to be on my knees in the last cubicle, my mouth waiting to service your cock. It wouldn't surprise me if you shot your load all over my face and down the front of my shirt. I guess I'd have to buy a new one to wear back to the office. And that jacket? Yes, young Master, I'll buy it for you. 

If you're single it must be by choice. I can see the way two guys in your group are looking at you. You're polite with them, but everyone can tell their interest is one way. You have no use for them, despite them being your age, and far better looking than I am. Muscular in a way I never was even before I started to become tone deficient. 

They have a lust for you, but perhaps that turns you off. Do they want to possess and control you?  Is that the problem?  Can you tell that my only interest is in providing for your needs, one occasional moment at a time?  At your disposal, briefly, but never pressing you to stay, or meet my friends. Is that what appeals to you? My married unavailability, leaving you the freedom and space that can be so elusive in a relationship. 

Your group is getting ready to leave, but my friend hasn't asked for our bill yet. I'm trapped here, and you'll be heading out into the night, never to be seen again.

Will you think of me next time you're fucking an older man? I'm quite convinced that you do that. Your glances were only occasional, but there was enough repetition over the hour we shared apart to give me solace that you would use me if circumstances allowed. 

I should have done more to make myself at your disposal but I can only do that if I’m stolen by you. I can't risk offering my service up to you. Even if I might enjoy the inevitable rejection. 

And now you're gone, without looking back, thankfully. It’s better that way.

Please consider hitting the like button on this post or any you read (assuming you did in fact like what you read) because it can mean a lot to writers. Follow me for free, if you’re curious, plus that’s a sexy thing to do. If you really want to make me horny, hit the Subscribe button (also free with me), and if you ReStack we’ll basically be dating. I promise I won’t spam you, but it might make me jerk off thinking about you. I also sometimes add a button below in case you are interested in donating a buck or two toward toys, but that is in no way expected.

Their first threesome didn’t unfold the way Jack thought it would, which probably shouldn’t have surprised him. In the end the whole thing just reinforced for Jack why he was so in love with his boyfriend De’on.  It wasn’t just the sex itself, but also the strategy behind the sex, and finally the feeling that no-one else could pull things off the way De’on did.

Jack and De’on were leaving Phil’s Pride party when they offered to share their Uber with Thom’s brother Peter.  Everything moved pretty fast.  Dee’s suggestion to Peter that he could ride north with them was, on the surface, simply because Peter didn’t want to wait to leave with Thom and Timmy, who had started fighting. But half an hour after the three of them had squeezed into the Uber, Jack was sucking Peter’s cock. 

Jack was pretty sure the fight between Thom and Timmy was all about Peter fucking his brother’s boyfriend.  Or at least that’s what he guessed was going on when he saw them coming and going from the garden shed at Phil’s that afternoon, and which might also explain the faint but undeniable taste of butthole on Peter’s cock.  Was this what Timmy's ass tasted like?

De’on had been under the impression that Peter was straight, but he quickly started to re-evaluate that when Peter all but propositioned Jack in the back seat of the Uber.  Jack was wedged in between the two muscle hunks, their thighs and shoulders squeezing him from either side.  He didn’t reply to Peter’s come-on, but instead deferred to De’on.  He was already massively aroused by this fully clothed version of a sexual sandwich, and wondered where De’on would take this.

Jack had a bit of a dilemma. Should he try to let De’on know his suspicions about Peter and Timmy before the three of them all ended up in bed together?  But he didn’t know for sure if anything had happened in the garden shed.  And De’on had his own history of fucking Timmy weekly until Jack had come along.  If he accused Peter of being the cause of the fight between Thom and Timmy it might look like he was trying to trash talk Timmy.

Not for the first time Jack decided to just let De’on take charge, follow his instructions, and see where things went.  And that’s how he came to be deep throating Peter’s cock.

It was a perfectly adequate cock to suck.  Thick, hard, veined, and in that Goldilocks range, where he could take it just about all the way to the base without gagging, but with no room left in his mouth.  Not too big, not too small.  So why was he vaguely dissatisfied with the scene so far?

There were two ways to know for sure if he was tasting Timmy’s ass on Peter’s cock but Jack wasn’t about to try either of them.  He wasn't going to outright ask Peter what happened in Phil's garden shed.  Nor was he going to ask if De’on wanted run a taste test by licking Peter.  

But right as he was thinking about it, De’on told him to stop sucking Peter, and switch to sucking him instead.  This was more like it.  No more stale ass taste, because De’on had definitely not been sneaking off to fuck other boys at the party.  Instead Jack was getting the full musk of Dee’s pubes thanks to sweat from when three of them had been stuffed in the back of the Uber. 

Dee’s cock had a slight curve, and it tapered a bit toward the end. Some guys get attention for their mushroom heads (which can do a lot to compensate for a thin shaft), but if Jack were to sit down with God to design the perfect cock it would be exactly like Dee’s. No part of his cock was thin. It had decent girth at the base. The thickest part was the middle of the shaft, starting about two inches out, then narrowing again slightly for the last two inches. The head was a sensible size, made a little bit bigger when the foreskin was pulled back.  Dee’s cock was great for both sucking and fucking. It had character, and variety.  Peter’s cock, on the other hand, looked like it had been designed by A.I. It was devoid of personality, technically correct, but soleless.

About a year from now Jack will be stopped in his tracks the first time he sees Robert Mapplethorpe’s photograph: Man in a Polyester Suit 1, because that is essentially what Dee’s cock looks like, causing him to wonder if that model could be Dee’s father?

Jack was now alternating between the two cocks, as directed by De’on.  It was about five minutes on Peter’s, and two minutes on Dee’s, back and forth, for half an hour.  Apparently De’on wanted Peter getting closer to cumming than himself.

It was when Peter seemed to be reaching for Jack’s ass, suggesting that he wanted to start fucking it that De’on showed Peter who was in charge.  

“So, you know in the Uber, when I invited you to come in and join us, I said you’d have to agree to follow my rules?” De’on said to Peter. “Well now it’s time for those rules to start.”

Peter looked a little surprised.  He had readily agreed, not bothering to ask what the rules were, because he didn't think De’on was serious. He’d thoroughly enjoyed having his cock expertly sucked for the last half hour so he was a bit taken aback by this twist.

“Get naked, and lie back.  I’m going to tie your hands and feet to the bed,” De’on said, “and Jack’s going to ride your cock.  Or I can tie you to a chair and you can just watch me fucking Jack.”

“Wait a second,” said Peter.  “I kinda figured we were going to tag team him. I’m not getting tied up.”  There was a look of annoyance on Peter’s face, but a sound of hesitation in his voice.

“Third option is you can leave. I’m not forcing you to get tied down, but the only way your cock is getting inside my boyfriend’s ass is if you're restrained.  I’m the only guy who gets to plow Jack.  Take it or leave it,” said De’on. 

If Jack had been stroking his own cock when De’on told Peter the rules he would have instantly shot a load at hearing his boyfriend talk like that!

“This is some weird, kinky shit man,” said Peter.

“And yet you’re standing there, rock hard, not leaving, and clearly interested in the idea of Jack milking a load out of you.”

“I really want to ride that ass.  Just, I wasn’t thinking it would ride me, that’s all. I’m so horny right now. I haven’t shot a load all day. I kept getting interrupted and haven’t cum yet”

“That’s the offer. Take it or leave it.”

He said ‘kept getting interrupted’ thought Jack.  ‘Kept getting’ could mean two attempts with Timmy, or Timmy plus another guy.  Maybe that wasn’t Eau de Timmy on Peter’s cock.

Jack didn’t have long to think about who else it might be because Peter undressed, followed Dee’s instructions, and within a few minutes Jack was easing his ass down onto Peter’s technically adequate cock.  Peter stayed hard. Like, really hard.  De’on had read the situation perfectly.  And with Peter restrained De’on was able to take things just a bit further.

First he threw a towel across Peter’s face.  Peter tried to toss the towel off by shaking his head, but De’on told him to quit moving and concentrate his mind on the sensation of his cock getting worked. Then, using a glove, he coated Peter’s balls with some Deep Heat, which definitely produced a reaction. And finally he guided Jack forward just a little bit so that his hole was on full display.  

It didn’t take De’on very long to get his cock hard, watching Jack’s ass slide up and down Peter’s shaft.  Pretty soon De’on had Jack slow his pace and started easing his cock into Jack, on top of Peter’s. As clichéd as it may sound, Jack moaned and arched his back.  De’on’s left arm was around Jack’s neck, moving him gently forward and back, giving him a variety of angles for the double penetration.

Jack had stopped riding and De’on was creating all of the movement now, building up to full-on fucking.  Peter’s cock was basically there as filler, to make Jack’s hole tighter than De’on had ever felt before.  The underside of his cock was sliding back and forth along the underside of Peter’s, frottaging each other, inside Jack’s ass.  

Right in this moment De’on was in a universe of his own creating, and happy to think of himself as being there alone.  As much as he was falling in love with Jack, in this frozen snapshot of time Jack was purely a vessel for Dee’s pleasure.  Peter was allowed to be there entirely just for the sake of his cock providing some bulk in the hollow bits of Jack’s bum. Peter’s cock was a runway for De’on to slide his cock along, within the warm confines provided so generously by Jack. 

De’on wondered if Peter realized that he literally had no other use for him than to create the circumstances where Jack’s ass now felt a bit like a vagina.  De’on fucked men because he was attracted to the masculinity of men. Even effeminate men were still sufficiently masculine to satisfy that need.  He fucked buttholes not because he was attracted to them, but because that was the hole that men had.  But a cock fucking ass really only feels sensation at the anal sphincter, as the head and shaft enter. This was an entirely different sensation, this feeling of pressure against the entire length of his cock inside a rectum.

Clearly Peter was feeling something too because it wasn’t long before he shot.  Jack and De’on could both tell there was a load of cum now, given a sudden increase in lubrication but De’on didn’t change position. He was close too.  Under other circumstances he might have enjoyed the moment for longer, but it had been a long day, and he just wanted to cum, and get Peter out of the apartment so he could fall asleep with Jack in his arms.

De’on added his load to Peter’s and Jack in turn shot his wad all over Peter’s six pack about 30 seconds later. Jack and De'on dismounted, so to speak, and immediately turned to hug and kiss. They made out for a few minutes with Peter still lying there tied up, but eventually they untied him together.  Almost reluctantly Peter showered and cleaned up in the spare bathroom. Jack was already changing the sheets and getting into bed by the time De’on finally got Peter out of the apartment.  

“Thank you babe,” said Jack to De’on as they were falling asleep.  “Not what I was expecting, but my ass is super happy right now.”

“I think everyone got what they needed,” said De’on, no longer in his own private universe.

“I think I'm starting to figure out why Peter hadn't managed to cum today, despite fucking Timmy.”

“Wait, what?”

“Garden shed. Today. At Phil's”

“And you knew?”

“Suspected. Couldn't figure out how to bring it up in conversation.”

They both laughed at that. And it was the same laugh.  They both found it funny, in the same way.  

“I definitely need to practice my rope skills,” said De'on. 

“Oh my god yes! Peter clearly didn’t actually want to get free, even when we’d finished. Some of those knots were basically undone by the end.”

“You saying I’m bad at bondage?”

“How ‘bout I offer myself up for practice one night this week?” asked Jack sleepily.

But by the time De'on had decided on his answer, Jack was asleep. 

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It was when Jack dropped his jeans and was standing there in nothing but a thong that Phil did his third double-take in half an hour. 

First Phil saw Jack drinking an umbrella drink, then holding hands with his boyfriend De'on. No reason at all that Jack shouldn't be doing either thing. And Jack certainly looked happy, and seemed to be having fun. It was just that Phil had never seen Jack do either of these very ordinary things before.

As for the thong, Phil had seen Jack's prize-winning ass many times before. He might have even joked about seeing it naked as much as clothed. But Jack's standard underwear was a jockstrap, and Phil would have bet money that Jack didn't even own a thong, much less that he would wear one in public.

Now if a man wanted to get his cheeks out, Phil's annual Pride pool party was a great place to do it. Lots of guys had done that over the years, although it was usually the ones you kinda wish wouldn't.  Jack on the other hand not only could carry it off, but you wouldn’t be surprised if someone had begged him to do it. Jack's ass could stop traffic. But still the number one question in Phil’s mind was, why was he wearing a thong?  

Was it that the usual showing of ‘Jack in a Jock’ had become such a tried and true, expected thing that he felt the need to switch it up? 

Phil would discover soon enough that Jack was wearing the thong at the party simply because his boyfriend De’on had told him to. Not asked him to. Told him to.  And that would surprise Phil even more than the thong itself.

Thongs are very different things than jockstraps, but a guy probably won’t realize the depth of that until he goes to wear one of them and then the other.  Jockstraps are a hypermasculinized, but ridiculously sexualized symbol associated with some sports.  Jock is of course an abbreviation for jockstrap but also a very masculine athlete.  Footballers are jocks, as are hockey players, but no one calls a badminton player a jock.

And yet it’s impossible to picture an athlete in a jock without seeing it as inherently sexual.  The original intent of a jockstrap was protection of the genitals while holding them in place for “bicycle jockeys” in the 1870s, but the fact that design left the ass open meant it was always going to provide the casual viewer with thoughts of easy access to the butthole. Popularity with gay men was never going to be far behind.

A thong, on the other hand, conjures up a whole different reaction. It suggests ballet dancers and effeminate men (despite ballet dancers being every bit as fit and strong as athletes) and now the anus is covered.  Gone is the implied invitation for easy penetration. But so too, ironically, is the association with masculinity and sports.  

If two men stand side by side at an underwear party, one in a thong and the other in a jock, Thong Guy is going to be stereotyped as a bottom, and likely as submissive, whereas Jock Guy will be seen as more masculine, but, well, okay, also as a bottom.

Jack wore jocks not just because they looked really good on him, but also because they reflected the way he wanted other men to view him. And he didn’t own a thong for exactly the same reason, because up until this point he hadn't wanted to be stereotyped as that kind of bottom. Which is what made the very act of Jack wearing the thong so interesting. De’on had instructed Jack to go out and buy a thong swimsuit, and wear it to the pool party, because he wanted to draw Jack out of his comfort zone.  He wanted to see if Jack could enjoy being seen that way in public, and rightly guessed that he would never do it of his own accord. The last part of the gamble was to see if Jack would thank De’on for bringing him to this point, standing in Phil’s back yard, stopping conversation, and turning heads. He did.

It must also be said that De’on wasn’t doing this only for Jack’s benefit.  De'on definitely had some selfish reasons of his own.  He wanted every man at that party to see his boyfriend’s ass, and be reminded that he owned it, and no one else was getting it.  Jack’s ass was Dee’s to fuck, and Dee’s alone.  He wanted everyone to understand that, but also to be jealous.  He could have demonstrated ownership in other ways that didn’t sexualize Jack so overtly, so it was deliberate to display Jack’s ass this way.  He knew that displaying Jack in his usual jockstrap wouldn’t get much attention.  Everyone at that party would have seen that before.  But Jack in a thong was a beautiful new thing that was also provocative and titillating.  

When Jack and De’on got to the bar they discovered that Phil had hired Timmy and his boyfriend Thom as bartenders and dressed them in bow ties, speedos and not much else. Jack wasn’t thrilled to see one of Dee’s previous fucktoys there, but to his credit De’on didn't flirt with Timmy in the slightest and just asked him for two mojitos. 

It was quickly apparent that Timmy's only previous experience with the role of bartender was sucking them off in return for free drinks. Apparently Phil wasn’t familiar with Timmy’s infamous, drunken summer in Provincetown when he never paid for a single drink while earning the unofficial title of Eastern Massachusetts’ Most Accomplished Cocksucker. Mind you, Phil probably still would have hired him anyway, just for the decor aspect. 

So De’on took charge of the clusterfuck unfolding with the drinks and gave Timmy a tutorial on how to muddle mint and make a mojito. Suddenly there was a line-up of thirsty gays wanting mojitos but right at that moment a new ‘Hot Young Gay’, Ken, walked onto the pool deck.  He was Phil’s latest “discovery”. 21 years old, new in town and therefore very new to this crowd, and wearing ass-less briefs and what might have been one of his dad’s business shirts, unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders.

Perennial party guest Ralph turned to his long-suffering boyfriend Brent and asked if he thought Ken was perhaps supposed to be some sort of cross between Tom Cruise in Risky Business, and Julia Roberts in one of Richard Gere’s shirts, but Brent was too young to have any clue what Ralph was talking about.

Ken’s entrance gave Jack and De’on the perfect opportunity to slip away from the bar and have their cocktails by the pool.

Jack definitely didn't want to raise the topic of Dee’s history with Timmy, but his mind kept going back to just how many sex stories he had shared with De’on in the Uber ride over. 

“Do you mind that I can be a bit of a slut?” Jack asked.

“Mind? No. It's what attracted me to you,” said De'on with a laugh.  “Surely you haven’t forgotten how we met?”

“Oh trust me, I remember.  I still visit that bathroom stall every time I change planes in Denver.”

The lads had met close to a year ago. They locked eyes as they were walking towards each other in DEN and the mutual interest was instantaneous. Minutes later Jack was perched on a toilet seat with his pants pulled down and Dee’s tongue was deep in his hole. Dee rimmed him like nobody's business for 15 minutes, and kept on going right through a text to Jack from Phil reminding him that the guy he was on his way to meet in Baltimore was going to try to kiss his ass to get a better deal. “He's welcome to take a number” was Jack’s enigmatic reply.  De’on only stopped eating Jack’s ass when he got an alert on his phone that his departure gate had changed. They pissed together into the bowl, crossing swords, so to speak, before heading off to their separate flights.

It was a month before they managed a second hook-up, this time at a hotel in Chicago. They fucked so long and so hard for three days that they missed the show Dee had booked, and a dinner Jack's friends. At one point they sent the concierge up to North Halsted to buy Dee’s favourite lube. 

“I wanted your ass from the moment I saw it,” said Dee, “and dreamed I was fucking you every night.”

“But why wait for my ass, when you could have guys like Timmy any time you wanted?” Jack cringed slightly that he hadn't been able to stop himself from mentioning his nemesis. 

“I didn't know it for sure until Chicago, but it's just different with you.”

Jack flushed, and thought he felt some precum work its way towards the tip of his cock. 

“But trust me, I was making do with Timmy and others in the meantime,” De’on continued.  Not for the first time De’on explained that although he thoroughly enjoyed fucking Timmy, the connection with Jack was somehow just deeper.  

Jack had never once asked De’on to change how he was fucking. He never once refused him. Never once made it about himself. De’on could pick him up, toss him around and every time Jack just played the role of lover perfectly. And De’on could literally feel himself get calmer the moment Jack walked into the room, which was something he'd never experienced with anyone else before. 

De’on was really used to guys expecting him to take charge, but most guys would also expect him to do what they wanted him to do, by somehow reading their minds. Jack not only let De’on call the shots, he also made it really clear that he loved every decision De’on was making. It was like they were two separate men having one single sexual experience. 

They had finished their mojitos, and Jack's mind was wandering to thoughts of how much he could read Dee's feelings, and how the two of them were quickly becoming connected. But no sooner had that thought formed when De’on effortlessly scooped Jack up in his arms, walked over the pool, and dropped him in.  Almost casually, like he was discarding him.  And then, in a voice that was slightly louder than strictly necessary, said “Stay there until I come get you”, and threw him an inflatable unicorn.

The reactions from the men around the pool were fast but varied.  There were definitely a few who clutched their pearls.

“Did I just hear what I thought I heard,” said Ralph, with an undertone of faux horror.

“How come you don’t ever do that to me?” Korean Sam asked White Sam. 

“Dream on,” replied White Sam.

More than a few guys turned to their friends and said they needed a man who could lift them up so easily.

And at least three very different men, scattered in and around the pool, suddenly realized that they definitely wanted to be treated exactly like that, and especially publicly.

Jack climbed onto the inflatable and De'on wandered off in the direction of the bar.  A lot of different thoughts and emotions were suddenly swirling through Jack's brain. He hadn’t seen it coming, De’on dropping him in the pool. It had totally caught him by surprise. And yet he wasn't angry. He felt quite happy to float there in the pool, and wait for De’on to come back, because he felt completely confident that De’on was in fact going to do just that.  It wasn’t logical. It was entirely just a feeling of trust. Even Ralph could see that this was sort of like a contented dog, waiting patiently and calmly on the sidewalk, while its owner went into a store for 10 minutes.

While Jack was sorting all this out in his mind, he saw a curious sequence of events unfolding. From where he was floating in the pool he could see a garden shed, down at the back of the yard. He only noticed it because he saw Timmy going in, holding a crate of empty bottles, but then nothing for 10 minutes when it was someone else who came out. Jack thought it was Thom, but then realized this guy was a little younger, a little taller, and a little more muscular than Thom. A minute later Timmy came out, tying his swimsuit. 

Soon De'on was back, wading through the pool towards him, holding two new mojitos. Jack took a sip and commented that Timmy seemed to be getting the hang of mixing drinks. 

“Oh no,” said Dee, “Timmy’s disappeared. Thom made these.”

“Does Thom have a lookalike here at the party?”

“Do you mean Peter, his brother?”

“Ah! Man, that could make for a sexy threesome.”

“I'm pretty sure Peter's straight.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that, “ said Jack.

As much fun as the party was, both Jack and De’on were horny and just by looking into each others eyes realized they wanted to go home and fuck. 

“Climb on board,” said De’on, and he dropped down a bit in the water.

Jack slid off the unicorn, wrapped his arms around Dee’s neck and hooked his legs around his waist and into Dee’s arms.

De’on started walking to the shallow end. Apparently it made sense to him to carry Jack out of the pool on his back as a sort of closure on throwing him into the pool, and Jack just went along for the ride. Literally.

They were almost out of the pool when they met Peter coming in.  He was even more handsome up close Jack thought, and was really packing a punch in his shorts.  The three of them stood waist deep in the pool and chatted for a minute.  The water lapped above and below Peter and Dee’s crotches in a way that just served to accentuate their bulges.  And likewise the fluctuating waterline rode up and down Jack’s crack for those men lucky enough to be watching from behind.

“What I would give to bury my face in those cheeks for half an hour,” said Ralph.

“You wouldn’t get within five feet,” observed Brent.  “And if somehow you did, De’on would hold you underwater with one foot on your neck, like a kangaroo drowning a dingo.”“Oddly specific,” said Ralph.

“Saw it in a documentary once,” said Brent.

Jack and De’on made the rounds of the usual suspects and of course thanked Phil profusely.  Jack made lunch plans with Phil for Wednesday, to debrief on all the tea, and then they headed out to the front yard.

Their Uber was a minute away when Peter came out of the front door, and asked about sharing a ride. 

“I was supposed to head home with Thom and Timmy, but they're having a bit of a fight, and Timmy is a little drunk,” said Peter. 

“We're heading north, if that helps,” said De’on. 

Jack sat in the middle of the back seat of the now too small Hyundai Elantra, wedged between the shoulders and thighs of these two muscular men. Neither of them needed to ask if he minded. 

And rather than ask about the actual address or neighborhood the Uber was taking them to, Peter instead asked Jack: “How's that thong feeling up the crack of your ass?”

Jack turned to De’on, and realized that he knew exactly what Dee was thinking. Feeling Dee’s feelings was back. He wasn’t going to be surprised at what happened next.

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As soon as Jack got into the Uber, De’on flashed him a beautiful smile, leaned over and kissed him fully on the mouth.  It wasn’t a make-out kiss with tongue, it was a lover-greeting-their-lover kiss. And yet for a split second Jack hesitated, just a little, mindful of the driver’s eyes in the rear view mirror. But that reservation lasted less than a second as he reminded himself of what he had decided that morning, that he was simply going to follow Dee’s lead, and put his trust in his boyfriend.

De’on was pleased, slightly relieved, but actually not surprised that Jack was dressed exactly as he had instructed.  Jack was wearing the Calvin Klein jeans that De’on said made his ass irresistible, a black tank top, and black loafers.  And just to be sure, De’on reached over and pulled back the waist band on Jack’s jeans to check he was wearing the light blue, thong swimsuit.  He was.  

They were on their way to Phil’s pool party, but today was also more than that.  It was their first time testing out the new twist on their budding relationship: that De’on would make their joint decisions, and that Jack would acquiesce.  Jack dressing the way he was instructed by De’on was a first, minor, test of that.  

De’on hadn’t seen the swimsuit in person until now, but Jack had texted him pictures from the changeroom when he was trying on options, so that De’on could make the final choice.

“Thank you, babe, you’re making me very happy right now,” said De’on.

“I’m gonna be real curious to see what Phil picks up on,” said Jack.

There was a lot unsaid in that exchange, but they both understood each other.

“So how come Phil talks about your ‘prize winning ass’?” asked Dee. “Is that just an expression?”

“Well, no, it’s kinda true.  My buns won me first place in a competition once.”

“Okay, now this I want to hear about.”

Jack glanced at the Uber driver.  

“Don’t worry about him,” Dee said firmly, “tell me the story.”

Suddenly there were multiple things overlapping.  De’on was flexing his muscles so to speak, practicing his role of being in charge when it came to Jack.  But making this demand in front of the Uber driver was an extra step. They hadn’t yet talked about whether tests of public obedience would be something they introduced into their roles, though De’on was lowkey sort of planning something similar for the pool party. The swimsuit was part of that.

It wasn’t clear how much the driver could hear, but De’on had suddenly decided he wanted to put Jack on the spot to tell a story that might get a bit graphic, in front of a stranger who in all likelihood was straight.

Meanwhile Jack was still feeling his way in the role of unquestionably complying with what Dee said, but he also wanted to be 100% open with Dee.  Jack had had a few relationships that fell apart because he didn’t feel that he could open up and show his true self to his boyfriend.  He always seemed to be holding part of himself back.  That lack of trust in his partner had led to cheating on, and being cheated on, and this time around Jack wanted to attempt the ‘we can tell each other everything’ approach. He didn’t yet fully know how that might connect to his experiment of letting Dee call the shots, but somehow he felt he couldn’t do one without the other.

So he started to tell De’on all (like, really, ALL) about the work trip with Phil to Toronto a few years ago, and the moment he did, he started feeling calm.

This trip happened right after the break up with an ex, and well before meeting Dee.  Phil (whose party they were on their way to) was a work colleague first, then became a good friend, but never a love interest.  In fact they were great wing-men for each other because they were both bottoms, but into totally different men. More than once they had ended up going home with one half each of a pair of friends, and once broke up an admittedly troubled relationship by each fucking one of the couple on the same night.

They flew into Toronto on a Saturday afternoon and although the work meetings were out by the airport, they had booked hotel rooms downtown near the Village. Their first night out was at the Black Eagle because they had heard about how much fun the patio was.  What they didn’t realize was that it was Jock Strap night.  That was fine for Jack because that was his go-to underwear for him and exactly what he was wearing. So he promptly checked the rest of his clothes and got right into the spirit of the party.

Phil wasn’t so lucky, and decided against the second option, which was simply to be naked, but it only took one beer for him to catch the eye of an older, dad-bod guy who was right up his alley, and the two of them were fucking in his hotel room before Jack had even ordered his second beer.

If he’d had his clothes on Jack might not have been happy to lose Phil quite so early in the evening, this being his first time in a strange city. But standing there in only boots and a jock meant he was instantly surrounded by a gaggle of guys thirsting for fresh meat.

Jacks’s butt is big, but not so big as to look out of place. It’s big, but not in the sense that each cheek has its own zip code. One of the best things about Jack’s ass is that it’s just that little bit bigger than you’d expect for it to be, in proportion with the rest of his body.  And it’s all muscle.  Hard muscle.  Some guys with great bodies and delicious butts can’t wear a jockstrap.  The straps pull into the fleshy part of their bum, in a way that makes them look flabby.  But the straps on Jack’s jock were pulled taut across his glutes.  No slackness.  No flabbiness.  This was totally why jockstraps were Jack’s go-to underwear.  Tops flocked to him from across the room when they saw his ass in a jockstrap.  

Jack knew the dangers of cruising the talent on a Saturday night when there always seemed to be so many men to choose from (until suddenly there wasn’t).  So he spent less than an hour picking out the night’s fuck. He invited the guy with the best pecs in the room, and a handlebar moustache like a 1970’s motorbike cop, back to his hotel.  He rode that moustache for half an hour, sucking on his cock until the guy accidentally shot his load right into Jack’s mouth without any warning. Jack didn’t mind too much, and figured he’d grab someone else off Grindr to plow him, but by the time he got Mr. Moustache out of the door he realized he just wanted to crash.

Jack and Phil spent Sunday prepping the material they were presenting on Monday morning, but planned to head out to check out the boys on Church Street in the evening.  Phil wanted a quick nap, so Jack dropped into Steamworks, figuring he had an hour to get a blowjob before meeting Phil for dinner.  He was really just there to buy a pass and check it out, figuring he’d go back after dinner.  But no sooner had he changed into a towel to take a walk around than he locked eyes on a guy from last night at the Eagle who had been his back-up plan in case Mr. Moustache didn’t pan out.  

Jack hadn’t realized it last night, but the guy was hung and thick, so the blowjob plans went out the window, and Jack’s legs went over his shoulders for about 45 minutes of slightly rude pounding.  Not for the first time in his life did Jack realize that he really should have gone with option two. But it was a case of all’s well that ends well, because he got something from both of them. 

Jack arrived 15 minutes late to the restaurant to meet Phil, but with such a just-fucked look of contentment on his face that he didn’t even need to explain himself.

Monday was business meetings so when he got back to his hotel Jack ordered room service, and some trade from Scruff.  The guy had a pretty decent cock, but surprisingly no idea how to fuck.  In the end Jack told Mr. Trade to just lie on his back and climbed on board and rode him.  He grabbed the guy's arms so that they each wrapped their hands around the other’s forearms, which gave Jack the leverage to slide his hole up and down the guy’s shaft.  It was really clear this was going to make the Mr. Trade cum, which he didn't want to do, so he started jerking Jack off and in no time Jack spread a load on the guy's chest, which he then licked up, because he just wanted the guy gone and didn’t want him taking a long shower.  It worked.

Tuesday night he took a break from fucking but gave a guy a blowjob in the stairwell just down the hall from his hotel room. Jack was bending over to get a soda out of a vending machine when he saw Mr. Married checking out his ass.  It was some straight guy visiting with his wife and two kids.  A small cock, but he shot a decent load, and quickly, so Jack was fine with that. 

On Wednesday night Jack was on his way to one of the sleezier bathhouses but never made it there.  He was wearing the now famous Calvin Klein jeans and got cruised to death by a nerdy kid in glasses. The kid’s pick-up line was literally “I want to fuck that ass”. So Jack made sure he was of legal age and took him back to his room.  He had to slow the kid down a few times because he was fucking like a jackhammer, but it felt good. When the guy was getting close he pulled out and started spraying cum like a firehose, all over Jack, the bed, the bedhead and the wall, including the art.  So much cum. All Jack could think was what would show up under a blue light if a forensics team were processing the room as a crime scene.  

As disappointed as Jack was with that fuck, he really got a kick out of the geyser, and asked Mr. Cum Fountain how long it would be before he could produce a load like that again.  He said tomorrow evening for sure, especially if he didn’t jerk off in the morning, so Jack did something he never did, and asked for his number.  He really wanted a load like that to hit the back of his throat.

At this point in the story telling De’on interrupted to ask if Jack really never asked for guys' numbers.  Jack shrugged, and said he’d never felt the need.  He was constantly being hit on. Any time he felt even slightly horny, all he had to do was go to the gym, drop his pants in front of a guy, and he’d be getting fucked in no time.  Usually he’d go to the top’s house.  Sometimes bring him home if the guy lived too far.  Occasionally in a bathroom stall at the gym. Once behind a dumpster in an alley.  

Dropping his pants to show his butt in a jock was usually enough.  But sometimes he’d drop the jockstrap too.  Or if the guy wasn’t paying attention, he’d literally bend over to pretend to do something with his feet.

It always felt like a waste of time to trade phone numbers, and Jack admitted he had a bad habit of giving out the phone number for Mickey’s Pizza from his home town so that he didn’t have to deal with endless messages.  He much prefered to just get straight to fucking, and then on with rest of his day.

He only stopped doing that when someone did it to him.  Mr. Cum Fountain gave him the number for a funeral home that night in Toronto, and Jack was mighty pissed the next morning when he tried to get that cumshot hitting the back of his throat.

The last night in town was Thursday and Jack and Phil headed to Woody’s expecting a quieter night before their last day of meetings on Friday. Turned out to be the Best Buns competition, so of course Phil started right in on trying to get Jack to enter.  In his heart Jack couldn’t deny the appeal of it, but being the last night of the trip, he was wearing a very unsexy pair of boxer shorts under his jeans.  He told Phil he coudn’t do it because he wasn’t in one of his signature jockstraps.  But Phil wasn’t giving up so easy.  The bartender was one of the guys Phil had fucked that week and kept sending them shooters, and then Phil doubled up on one of Jack’s drinks.

It took a bit of doing, but finally Phil convinced Jack to go the bathroom and take off his boxers, so that when he went up on stage and started pulling down his pants, his bare bum showed immediately.  The Drag Queen hosting the competition almost popped her tuck on the spot.  The crowd went wild. Someone started calling him Commando Jack and the nickname became a chant in the final round of the competition.  So, Jack’s ass won the prize of $50 and two passes to Steamworks (which Phil slipped to the bartender on their way out).

Jack somehow finished telling the story right as the Uber pulled up to Phil’s pool party.

“Thanks for sharing all of that babe,” said De’on.

“Well that is all the honest truth.  You probably think I’m some kinda out of control slut,” said Jack, “but I actually feel better for telling you all of that, for some reason.”

“Are you kidding? I’m like that kid. The moment I saw your ass I wanted it.  And I knew everyone else wanted it too. You’re not telling nothing I didn’t expect.”

“So you’re not upset?”

“I’m so horny right now because now that ass is mine and I am going to make sure everyone knows damn well that it’s mine and they can’t have it.”

“How are you going to do that?”

De’on took Jack’s hand as they got out of the Uber. “Just follow my lead,” he said.

“You read my mind,” said Jack.

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Jack could tell, without looking at a clock, or even opening his eyes, that it was 7:00am. His boyfriend's cock was waking up, and waking him up, pressing into his right butt cheek. 

That cock reliably produced so much cum, like clockwork, that Jack thought he should start calling it Old Faithful.  Actually, his boyfriend De'on was only 29 years old, so perhaps Young Faithful. But then again, perhaps faithful wasn't the right word for Dee (as he had taken to calling him) either. Young Regular would be more accurate, but not as catchy. 

Jack slipped out of bed and into the en suite. He pooped, peed, rinsed and washed up a bit.  He didn't bother to brush his teeth because he didn't want to be gone from the bed too long and wasn't expecting kisses, but he did take a minute to squirt some Swiss Navy lube into his ass from a douche bulb he kept full of runny lube, exactly for this purpose, and then climbed back into bed, and his position of little spoon in Dee’s arms. 

Within a minute Dee’s thick, curved cock was making its way into Jack's butt, like it did four mornings a week just after 7:00am.  Dee pulled Jack backwards so that he was sort half on top, hooked his top leg with one arm and threaded the other under Jack's neck.  It was all a smooth repositioning that basically held his cock in place and gave him leverage for fucking sideways. The curve of his cock meant this only worked when Jack was lying on his right, but that was his usual position anyway.  Dee would be cumming within a few minutes because he could never hold off for long in the morning.  It was like he spent the night fucking in his dreams and was already primed to shoot when he woke up.  Jack didn’t feel like cummng right then, so he let Dee finish on his own.  Dee kissed him on the nape of his, pulled out and went off to the second bathroom to shower.  

Jack fell back to sleep for a bit, unintentionally, and by the time he made it out to the kitchen Dee was just finishing making blueberry pancakes.  They sat opposite each other at the little table in the kitchen, with their legs intertwined underneath. Neither of them had said a word yet this morning, which was both typical, and completely comfortable for both. Neither of them were big conversationalists, and even though they had only been dating just shy of six months, they had quickly fallen into defined roles they both liked. Well, perhaps Jack more than Dee.  

Dee was checking messages and replying to some work emails on his phone while Jack was reading a newspaper on his tablet, and was the first one to speak:

“That movie you talked about has just opened.”

“Right, and I want us to go see it tonight,” replied Dee.

“You know that’s not exactly what…” but Dee cut him off by half raising one hand.

”This is actually something I want to have a bit of a chat about”, said Dee, and he got up from the table, took Jack’s hand, and led him over to the sofa in the living room.

Dee sat himself down in the middle of the sofa, and patted his lap. Not that he really needed to prompt Jack to sit there, because this was a position they both liked, and Jack was already climbing onboard, bending his knees behind him and sitting face to face with Dee.

Dee being 6’2” and Jack just shy of 5’8” meant they occasionally got creative on how to be face to face for necking.  Jack loved it when Dee used his brute strength to effortlessly lift up his petite frame.  Dee's arms around Jack’ waist, and Jack's legs around Dee's waist. 

The sitting version of this position had the added advantage that Jack could play with Dee’s nipples, which were apparently hard-wired to his cock.  But this was the first time Dee had initiated a conversation like this, so Jack was curious what was coming next.

”I know you’re not a fan of action movies”, said Dee, “but you know I am.  And I want to see this movie with my boyfriend. I’d go with my brother but he’s moved away to do his Masters, and I don't want to stream it.  This movie needs a big screen.”

“Go on your own?” Jack asked.

“Nope.  I’d feel stupid, and I want to share the experience. And I don’t want just anyone there.  I want you.”  He paused. “I could ask Timmy to come with me I guess.”

Jack bristled at the mention of Dee’s fucktoy from just before they’d met. “Absolutely not” he said. “Anyway, he has that new boyfriend. Thom, with an H,” he said with a slightly mocking voice. “Timmy’s not going to a movie with you.”

“Five minutes on Jack’d and I’ve got a twink to be my date. You know that.  But that’s not what I want. I want you beside me, even if you’re falling asleep on my shoulder.”

Jack melted a little inside. Actually a lot.  Dee was a hunk of a man and a catch of a boyfriend for a whole bunch of reasons beyond the physical.  To be wanted by him was a powerful thing.

“Let’s do it” said Jack.  “You had me at ‘fall asleep on your shoulder’,” he said with a grin.

“Good,” said Dee, then continued after a beat, “but that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“Yep.  I don’t want to have to ask you to come to a movie.”

The look on Jack’s face said he didn’t understand.

“I need to be able to just tell you we’re going to see a movie, and for you to accept that, because I said so.”

Jack wasn’t ready to admit it, but something about Dee taking charge like that appealed to him. If he was honest it was one of the things that had turned him on about Dee from the start.  But so far that had always been in the bedroom.  Not in the general day to day.

Dee started explaining what he meant.  He wasn’t looking to control Jack.  He didn’t want to start dictating everything about his day.  But he had realized it was  important to him that when he and Jack were doing something together, he needed to be in charge.  

A decade before, in university, Dee’s first relationship had been super intense, but really all they did was fuck, eat and sleep together.  His boyfriend treated Dee like a live action dildo on legs, and nothing more.  He would laugh it off as being a power bottom, and insatiably horny, but Dee came to realize that he only had one role in this guy’s life, which was sperm injector.  It was astounding just how much spunk he filled him with, and it was never enough.  Sometimes Dee wanted to see his load go in the guy's mouth, but this pushy bottom insisted it always had to be up his butt. And the moment Dee wanted to do anything else there was always an excuse.  Too tired, too busy, an assignment due. 

Dee’s second relationship when school was done was no more successful, but this time it was the opposite problem of a lack of sex.  Dee liked to fuck once a day. Twice on weekends. But his boyfriend only wanted it once a week.  Their libido’s were completely mismatched.  Instead of being a sex supplier, this boyfriend primarily wanted Dee to be arm candy.  He had a huge social life and Dee was constantly being displayed as a prize.  They’d get home from an event and the guy would be asleep (or pretending to be) before Dee could get into bed.

When he met Jack it all just seemed to feel right.  Their sex drives matched.  Jack never once turned Dee’s cock down, and never put any demands on him.  But there was one thing that just wasn’t working, and it took Dee a couple of months to figure out what was missing.  Jack always wanted Dee to make decisions for them, but he wouldn’t come out and say that.  Instead he would drop hints that he couldn't make up his mind, or pretend to offer options.

Finally Dee had the idea that it could all be much simpler and faster if they just agreed that Jack would hand off mutual decisions to Dee.  Tonight’s movie, tomorrow’s brunch, Wednesday’s take-out. And the more Dee thought about it, the more it appealed to him.  Efficient, and to be honest, a natural match in their personalities. The penny had dropped about a week ago when Jack asked Dee which shoes he should wear that day, and Dee had already decided before even being asked when he saw Jack holding both pairs.  The moment Jack asked, and then wordlessly followed Dee’s suggestion, Dee felt something warm inside.  He wanted to make that choice for Jack, and Jack would later admit that he wanted Dee to decide for him.

Jack listed to all of Dee’s explanations about how he had realized how much it mattered to him to take charge, and then the two of them fell silent for a minute.

“Can you give me an example of how this would work?” Jack asked.  “Are you going to start micromanaging my whole life?”

“Absolutely not.  Just the bits when we’re doing stuff together.  Like tomorrow afternoon.  We have Phil’s pool party.  I’m going to text you from the Uber when I’m on my way over here to pick you up.  I want you to meet me downstairs wearing your Calvin Klein jeans, the black tanktop, black loafers, and a blue thong bathing suit.”

“Well that’s specific!  Why those jeans?  And I don't own a thong swimsuit.”

“Your ass looks amazing in those jeans.  Your crotch looks better in the Levis, but I don’t want guys thinking about your cock.  I want every man at that party to be staring at your ass the whole afternoon, and knowing that I am the only one who will get to fuck it.  I want everyone to know that your ass is mine, and mine alone. That’s what will make me happy.”

“For the thong,” he continued, “you told me you’re getting your hair cut in the morning, so go to that store in the Village afterwards.  I’ll send you $50. Text me pictures when you’re trying them on, and I'll tell you which one to buy.”

Jack was getting turned on, and more than he would have guessed.  Dee wasn’t surprised, but he was pleased. Jack had sometimes fantasized about wearing a thong in public, but didn’t see how it would happen, and wouldn’t have had the courage to turn up to a pool party like that alone.  Now he was being instructed to do exactly that, by his boyfriend.  He didn't remember ever talking to Dee about thongs. Did Dee somehow read his mind?  Either way, he was being told to do something he wanted to have an excuse for, and he was excited just by being told what to do.  All of this was new and a little confusing.

“Do you understand?” Dee asked.

“Yes Sir.”  The Sir just came out without thinking about it.  Was it a bit corny, Jack wondered?

But Dee just continued straight on. “Now, do that thing you do with my tits, and kiss me.”

They started making out, but in minutes Dee stood up. Jack was still sitting in his lap so he wrapped his legs around Dee’s waist and Dee carried him to the bed.  They fucked for close to an hour with an intensity Jack had never felt before.  It was like Dee had moved to a new level.

Dee kept grinding away in different positions, sometimes rotating Jack on his cock without pulling out. He wanted to fuck forever and had to work carefully a few times not to shoot. Meanwhile, Jack came twice and Dee scooped up the cum with his fingers and fed it to him.  When Dee finally decided to cum he collapsed on top of Jack and started crying, with love.  Strangely it wasn’t weird.  It all felt just right.

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I’m at the Sperm Bank, being inseminated for the third time.  Of course I’m a gay man and am never going to get pregnant, but it sure is fun to try.  And of course this isn’t really a sperm bank, it’s a bath house.  Actually, come to think of it, I’m the bank, always open for deposits. There’s a felcher lurking nearby, hoping to make a withdrawal, but I’m going to make him wait.

My first deposit tonight is Charles.  He’s always the first in line.  I realized long ago that it’s easiest to just let him go first and get it over with.  He’s an older man, with a modest cock.  In a sense he does me a favour, helping to open me up just a little, and not over do things too early in the evening.  It’s true it takes him a little while to cum, but he’s kind and considerate, and ever so grateful.  And sperm is sperm, and my ass isn’t going to fill itself, so all things considered it’s a good start to the process.

Years ago, at a sex party in D.C. I went straight for a man with the biggest cock I’d ever seen.  He laughed at my request to be of service and told me he’d ruin my ass if he fucked me.  I kinda got it.  He was hung like a whale, but I really wanted him, and I was getting regularly fucked by a King cock back home in those days so I felt confident I could handle him.  To shut me up he told me to get fucked by a few smaller cocks first, to loosen up my hole.

So I did just that.  First a baby cock, then a nicely hung man and finally some donkey dick.  And after a short break went back looking for the big guy and told him I’d done what he’d asked.  He didn’t believe me, but reached down and put a finger inside of me, then a second, and a third.  He was actually impressed by just how loose I was and to my great delight did indeed fuck me for a few minutes until he got bored.

In an ideal world I’d arrange my cum dump nights by increasing size of sperm donor cock, but beggars can’t be choosers, and I have to take them in the order they come in. But that’s also why letting Charles be the first is not a terrible idea.

My second tonight doesn’t say a word.  He’s seen me do this routine before but it’s his first time joining in.  I don’t get a proper look at him because I’m face down still.  He pulls my hips up off the bed.  Pushes down on the small of my back and spurts lube on my hole and his cock.  He knows exactly the position he wants.  I have to work fast to loosen enough to accommodate him, but it’s worth it. His technique is so good that a couple of young guys (one handsome, one pretty) have stopped in the doorway to watch.  I’m not entirely sure if he’s cum when he pulls out, but he grabs the Sharpie on my bed and adds a line to my left cheek, so I’ll take it on faith that I have my second load, and besides, the pretty young guy who stopped to watch takes his place almost immediately.

Pretty Boy doesn’t have much technique and isn’t as thick as Number Two was, but he’s clearly enjoying himself enough, and he definitely shoots inside me. I hand him the Sharpie for my third line.

There’s a bit of a pause before a fourth guy enters me.  I’m pretty sure I’ve had this cock before.  There’s something familiar about the musky smell of him.  He’s confident in his strokes which are fast but not rough.  That could also be because I’ve really started to loosen up by this point.

Number five is the biggest cock of the night so far.  By no means the biggest of my life, not by a long shot, but definitely big enough to put a blissful smile on my face, and he clearly likes that I like it.

Waiting right behind him is Peter who has fucked me so many times that he should really be collecting frequent flyer points.  I’m astounded and delighted that he never gets tired of my ass.  He rolls me over onto my back.  Not only does he like fucking me, he likes to look into my eyes when he’s doing so.  He hooks my legs over his shoulders and rides me like an old bike. His line with the Sharpie goes on my thigh instead.

Now that I’m face up I can occasionally see who’s hanging around outside the door and I can see the horsecock guy I’ve always wanted and never had. I’m really hoping he’ll stop by.  Peter leaves and I semi-drape a towel over my face. If I’m going to stay on my back for a bit it will probably be less intimidating for guys who just want to pump and dump.

Numbers seven, eight and nine and nothing to write home about.  One guy is so small that I can’t even feel him, but I get the sense he’s the most grateful of the lot.  It seems like he was able to cum, but honestly I felt nothing.

And then my dreams come true.  Mr. Horsecock has entered my room and dropped his towel.  Fuck that’s huge.  I’ve seen guys sucking him in the sauna, and we’ve made eye contact, but the one time I went to suck him he got up and left.  I’m holding my breath in fear that he’ll lose interest, but I don’t need to worry.  He rolls me onto my left side, facing away from the door and lubes his cock. He’s quite gentle to start and takes his time to get inside.  I can smell whiskey on his breath, and cigar smoke.  Sometime in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good to deserve this.

Truth be told he wrecks my hole with his fucking.  His technique isn’t the greatest.  Maybe it’s the booze, but maybe he’s just a mediocre lay.  I’m starting to think he gets too much attention because of the size of his cock ands he’s never really bothered to get good at topping.  But actually I don’t care.  I just want to collect him, like a trophy, and I’ll be accommodating if he wants a second round another night. Cock like his doesn’t come along very often.

I’m thinking that Mr. Horsecock is probably going to be my last for the night when mystery guy number two turns back up in my doorway, and asks, almost too politely, if he can give me a second load.  Absolutely I say, and reassure him that there is never a maximum limit.  My hole is his for as many shots as he has in him.  It’s the genuine truth, and I can see that he hears the sincerity in my voice.  He takes longer the second time around, not surprisingly, but this time for sure I know he cums.  I hold back from asking the obvious question of whether he came the first time, or how many other loads he’s produced tonight.  In my mind I decide that he fucked two other guys but pulled out early, saving his second orgasm for me.

No new guys stop by for almost half an hour so I’m starting to get dressed when the felcher shows up, almost out of breath.  Please, he begs, I need to swallow those loads. He’s cute, or cute enough, so I tell him to lie on his back, with his head by the door.  I climb on top of him facing away, my ass over his face.  As soon as his tongue is in my hole I can feel cum start to leak out.  He spreads my cheeks apart with his hands.  This guy is a greedy little slut, but who am I to judge, and I really appreciate it when a man knows what truly gives him pleasure.

Just when I figure all of the cum is out of me and into his mouth, I feel a cock sliding into my ass.  Felcher is still lying underneath me.  I have no idea whose cock this is, and deliberately don’t turn around to see.  It feels pretty good, and I’m in a comfortable enough position, so I just take the bonus fuck.  Tonight hasn’t set any records, but it’s been efficient for 12 cocks in 90 minutes.

Just as I’m leaving the bathhouse I notice the Handsome Youngster who had been hanging out with Pretty Boy, and he smiles at me nicely and mouths “Thank You”.  Was he my final, anonymous cock?  I’m going to go with that.  I’ve seen him at the gym, so I think I’m going to hit him up for a fuck as soon as I see him there again.

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It didn’t take long to figure out.  I recently met a colleague, Rory, who is a true submissive in all aspects of his life. He’s works in a different department, and we only interact once a month for a committee meeting.  Every four weeks or so we’re in the same group meeting even though our work doesn’t overlap much.

He’s apparently very good at his job. I’m told he waits for a task to be given to him, and then does exactly what was asked.  No questions.  No push back.  No passive aggressive whining to get the task changed.  He just does what he’s told. I’ve seen him do a single task two different ways (the way he was asked, and then the way it should really be done) so he has a back up if his boss realizes the mistake, but he still does the work as instructed, at a minimum, with no complaints.

Because we only know each other through work I can’t ask him about his sex life, but if I close my eyes and let my imagination run wild I picture him dressed in latex, a collar around his neck with a leash dangling from it. Rory is down on all fours, slurping away at His Master’s Cock. After a while his Master, Max, stands up, takes the puppy tail butt plug out of Rory’s ass and shoves it in his mouth, then leads Rory by the leash to a fuck bench and goes to town on his ass.  Max works that hole good, sometimes pulling out then punching his cock back in so Rory is gaping slightly when Max finishes by filling him with cum.

I picture Max leading Rory by his leash, downstairs to the basement and locking him in a dog crate after filling his bowl with water.  If Rory needs to pee he’ll be filling his rubber suit and marinating in his own warm and salty piss.  At 5:00am an automatic timer turns on the lights, and unlocks the cage, giving Rory two hours to clean himself up and get Max’s breakfast ready.  

That’s all in my imagination of course, but it’s what I’d wish for Rory.  In reality, I suspect his love life is as boring as he is.  I suspect one Saturday a month Rory lies face down on the bed, on top of an old towel from the laundry closet, and Bob the Boring Boyfriend climbs on board and mechanically pumps away at Rory with his pencil dick.

Rory lies there, thinking of England, so to speak, staring at the headboard, and wondering if it might be nice to freshen up the decor in the front hallway.  Perhaps some floral print wallpaper instead of the beige-on-beige fleck that’s been there for 20 years. Oh, Bob seems to be finished even faster than usual and is removing a condom into which he’s pumped so tiny an amount of cum as to be almost unseeable.  He leaves it on the towel for Rory to deal with, because that's his job.  

That’s what I suspect the reality is.  But honestly, it doesn’t matter.  Because no matter which version is closer to the truth, Rory will just do as he’s told and neither complain nor comment. True submission doesn’t require kink.  I just find it to be more fun that way, and I’m a twisted fuck. But submission is submission, and doesn’t require kink.

All of this is making my head spin, and making me question my sexual identity as a sub.  I remember clearly the first time I got hugely aroused when I was put in the role of a submissive.  I’ve written a lot about that first time with Vu. Read my piece “Did I say you could stop doing that?”, from May 8th.  It’s all about my surprise at being so excited to be a sexual submissive.  I was shocked because there had been other times when a man exerted control over me and I didn’t react the same way.

I dated a guy named Joe, many years ago, for about 6 months.  It was intense.  He wasn’t especially good looking, but he was very charming. In fact, charismatic.  He also had a big head of dreads.  There are two physical attributes that I’m a sucker for: long and strong legs are the first thing that gets my attention, and lots of hair (but only on the head and nowhere else) is the second.

Joe was the first man I fell in love with in that chemical reaction kind of way, and the smell of his crotch drove me crazy. Even just thinking about the smell could make me hard any time of the day or night.  The other thing that drove me crazy, but in the wrong way, was his control freak tendencies.  Our sex was very vanilla.  He was fucking a lot of guys, so I was always a bit frustrated that I didn’t seem to be getting laid much, and the sex we did have was kinda boring. Sure, he initiated it and decided what would happen, but it was the other, non-sexual, aspects of our relationship that he attempted to control me.  Looking back I can’t help wondering if only Joe had brought his control issues into the bedroom could things have turned out differently.  I eventually got sick of his bullshit games and dumped him once the chemical cascade of the initial love wore off.

This same problem of wanting to dominate me in life, but not in the bedroom, happened with Nedal, a very pretty, young Saudi guy who I accidentally caused to fall in love with me, after performing a spontaneous act of submission.  It was at a fetish fashion show and he’d been hired to film the runway portion of the show.  We were in position with the camera, in the middle of an enormous crowd, and the show was about to start when he told me had to pee.  

“There’s absolutely no way you can get through the crowd, and back again, in time” I said.

“You’re going to have to start the filming for me” he said.  

“I don’t know the first thing about your video camera, and for sure I’m going to screw that up”.

“I can’t hold it.”

“I’ll drink your piss for you.”

“I don’t have a container” he said.  

“That’s not what I meant.”

There was a look of surprise, dawning comprehension and disbelief on his face.  I knelt down and unzipped his fly.  Almost immediately that I had his cock in my mouth he started with a stream of piss.  It was my first time ever attempting this, and didn’t know if I could pull it off.  The crowd around us was so dense that only one woman saw us. She looked very disapproving.  Despite being a fetish show it definitely wasn’t a sex party, and she probably thought I was giving head.

It usually a man takes a few seconds to start to piss, and the flow is initially light.  About two thirds though emptying the bladder the flow gets its most intense. But Nedal had been so close to pissing himself he started heavy straight away, then it slowed to a normal sort of pace. I didn’t realize the flow was going to pick up again at about the 45 second mark and I almost panicked.  It was like draining a racehorse.  I felt like I was right back in first year university, learning how to chug a pint.  It was probably ten seconds later that the stream of piss started to slow down.  I was going to make it and I hadn’t spilled a drop.  

He pulled his cock out of my mouth, zipped up, and with his hands on the side of my shoulders he nudged me to stand up.  The look on his face was pure joy, perhaps mixed with some admiration, and love.  Yes, there was love in his eyes.  I didn’t know it yet, but a subtle shift had just occurred in how he thought of me.  He climbed up to behind the camera just in time to start filming the show.  

On our way out of the party he said to me that he couldn’t believe I’d done that.  I said it was the only logical solution to the problem.  Nevertheless, he said.  

We never talked specifically about it again, but it changed the role Nedal wanted for me in his life. For different reasons we had both said to each other when we met that we didn’t want to be boyfriends, but now Nedal decided he wanted me as his plus-one assistant.  Sort of a secretary-cum-butler.  He didn’t want me as an equal because he didn’t want to have to cater to my needs. But he wanted to have me at his disposal to anticipate needs, and solve problems.  He hadn’t, for example, predicted that he would have a need for a personal, portable urinal, but now that I had provided that service it set a new bar for what he decided he needed in his life.  I was to be his Man Friday in latex, leather and bondage gear.  Sometimes to provide sexual services, but mainly just to be of service.

This had the potential to be of great interest to me, occasionally. But he wanted me to suddenly move into that role full time. Problem was that I had too many things going on in my life to be able to do that.  I would literally have had to seriously and financially inconvenience myself, and the only thing he was offering in return was the joy of being of service.  It would have been a ton of fun to throw myself into that if I was independently wealthy and had no other commitments.  Reality was vastly different.

There was no middle ground for him.  No meeting halfway.  He had to possess and control me.  He had truly fallen in love with me instantly when my desire to be of service had manifested as his urinal, but the reality of his dominant nature didn’t allow for me to have personal freedom. I asked for time to grow into the role, and accommodate the other obligations I had.  He didn’t have the patience for that and gave me an ultimatum. 

I turned him down and he cut all contact with me.  It left me feeling that I wasn’t really a sub and that I had failed in the face of true dominance.  What I didn’t yet understand was that he was being dominant, with a lower case “d”, but not a Dom, with an upper case “D”.  What I’ve come to realize is that I love being dominated, but only by someone who understands what it is to be a Dom.  Simply being dominant for the sake of being dominant will almost always turn out to be impractical for the sub.  Maybe Rory can pull off that role, but I can’t.  Or at least I have yet to be in the situation where I can make it work.

So I have remained a sexual submissive in scenes, but not in life. Maybe one day I will adjust to the role full time, in all aspects.  Maybe the Dom who can transition me into that life exists and is waiting for me.  I will admit I’m both curious and hopeful.

Please consider hitting the like button on this post or any you read (assuming you did in fact like what you read) because it can mean a lot to writers. Follow me for free, if you’re curious, plus that’s a sexy thing to do. If you really want to make me horny, hit the Subscribe button (also free with me), and if you ReStack we’ll basically be dating. I promise I won’t spam you, but it might make me jerk off thinking about you. I also sometimes add a button below in case you are interested in donating a buck or two toward toys, but that is in no way expected.

It started when I was getting fucked by a nice young man, with a nice body, and a, umm, very nice cock.  It was all very nice, which is not my style at all.  

I was in Charlottetown, PEI for an event, bored in my hotel room, and had opened, and promptly closed my Scruff app.  Everyone looked like me.  Actually, worse.  I was the hot guy on Scruff that night, which was just not going to work.  

I had given up on Grindr years ago because all I would get was come-ons from whores, so to speak.  I have nothing against rent boys, and like Simon & Garfunkel sang, I took some comfort there at times. But Charlottetown isn’t Vegas or PV where it’s hookers propositioning hookers and nothing else, so I gave Grindr a chance.

I’ve long forgotten his name, if I ever knew it, so let's call him Billy, as in, Big Willy.  I’m mean, if the name fits… Billy was born and raised on the island but had moved away to Montreal to go to school which turned into some retail and bartending jobs.  He was enjoying life, but starting to get bored when Covid hit.  He hung on as long as he could, but the lack of work eventually drove him back to his parents basement on the edge of Charlottetown.

One of things he hadn’t realized about his time in Montreal was just how addicted he had gotten to easy sex with strangers.  Literally any time he felt like getting laid, he could.  It never took more than an hour to arrange.  Didn’t matter if he was in a bar, bathhouse, club, at the gym, or just lying on the couch at home.  Sex was always available for a 26 year old with a slim build and un bon lunch, as his cock was locally described.

But the move back to PEI had put an end to all of that.  In less than a month he had fucked every available man in town, and had started to realize he had no appetite for seconds. Then he started to get depressed when a twink rejected him as too old.  My virgin profile, popping up on Grindr, was heaven sent, so he pounced.  

Was I available now? Could I host? Did it matter if he was a little drunk? Top? Bottom? Vers? The questions were rapid fire.  I just sent him an address with a reminder of my age.  He said he was on his way.

It surprised me a little when he turned out to be just so nice.  He was basically a super horny kid with a big cock.  He didn’t have a type, but he did have a huge urge to have sex with someone he didn’t know and wasn’t related to. (The population of Charlottetown is only about 35,000.)  He genuinely didn’t care that I was older than his father, and not as fit as I once was.  All he cared about was that I was fresh meat.

The size of his cock usually meant that guys preferred to fuck him so as not to get their holes wrecked, but I wasn’t going to pass up horsemeat.  I rolled onto my stomach, on top of a pillow, and Billy climbed on board. He was fully deep inside me in a matter of minutes.

The whole situation was a lot more vanilla than I’d generally prefer, but I was at least enjoying the fact that it had been a very short amount of time from turning on the app to having his cock in my ass.  We didn’t need a huge interview process.  He wanted to fuck a stranger, and I had a thing for young men who take charge.  Bonus points for the big willy.  The only fetish aspect of it for me was the relative anonymity, and just getting straight down to business.  I’m at my best when the instructions are as simple as Roll over, and Shut up. If I’m honest, I start to lose interest in a guy if his sex talk is in full sentences.

Billy was getting the no-nonsense part of things right. Suddenly I realized I was in a happy place. And then, to my surprise, I felt a little knot of tension in my stomach let go.  I hadn’t even realized it was there until I felt it melting away.  All of me relaxed at that moment, including my hole, which meant Billy’s dick sank that little bit deeper into me.  I think we both sighed.  His cock swelled in response to suddenly having a bit more space, and all I could think about was how goldfish grow to the size the tank allows.  I relaxed even more, his cock got even bigger.  It was like a perfect sexual feedback loop. 

It reminded me of a time a few months before when I was impaling myself on a new dildo.  I had tried very hard to avoid that usual thing of buying a size too big.  It worked.  It was in the Goldilocks range.  Not too big, not too small.  More importantly, it had a suction cup base.  Last time I’d tried one like that it was too heavy to stay stuck to the tiled wall in my bathroom.  This time my restraint paid off, and this very modest replica cock stuck straight out at 90 degrees.  

I played around with the height, and found the perfect position to literally fuck myself from behind.  That’s what my mind was wandering back to with young Billy, because that had also resulted in the same wonderful feeling of relaxation.  The sudden awareness of tension, right as it dissipated.

But how to reproduce that regularly, much less on demand?  Billy was clearly a one & done kinda guy and lived in another city. The suction cup dildo turned out to a faithful companion, but required time and undisturbed access to my bathroom.

I had one candidate in my butt plug collection that could reliably do the trick, but it had a hand pump and tube to inflate it after insertion, so it was also impractical.  I couldn’t even sit down on it.  

Finally I landed on the Hush 2 remote control vibrating butt plug from Lovense.  And no, this is not a paid product placement, but if anyone from Lovense reads this and wants to gift me toys to write about then yes, I am that slut.

For months I couldn’t go more than a few days without availing myself of the stress relieving benefits of my plug. But that’s not all.  I loved having it turned on remotely by others.  I always knew when one Dom had gotten off the subway and was walking to my apartment because the plug would start vibrating my ass.  That was my signal to go downstairs to meet him.  Better than any doorbell I ever owned.

Fast forward to last night, about 10pm and I had just plugged myself.  I had about an hour before I had agreed to meet my friend Jason.  He insisted I join him at the bathhouse for Bukkake Night, claiming I owed his face a load, which was utter bullshit. His cock owed my mouth far more, but the truth is I produce far larger, more reliable and much better tasting loads than anything he’s capable of.  So I agreed to dump a load on his head because he had proved a reliable magnet for hot guys in the past, and being naked with him in public might well pay dividends.

I sat back on the couch to enjoy 20 minutes with the Hush 2 and set it to vibrate at a low, variable pulse while I watched some bondage porn on my laptop.  I was enjoying seeing a young latino Dom restrain a big beefy linebacker when I felt that comfortable sense of relaxation creeping over me.

Four hours later it was my phone vibrating, rather than the buttplug, that woke me up. I had completely missed Bukkake Night.  The Hush 2 was running out of battery with just a weak, intermittent vibration reminding me it was there.  It was time to unplug me, and plug in the plug, so to speak.

There were more than 20 missed messages from Jason on my phone.  The first ones were of course all about asking where I was.  He claimed to be wearing seven loads by halfway through the messages but still wanted mine. At that point the messages changed big time.  He was now out on the street, wearing only a towel, with dried cum starting to freeze on his face.  There had been a fire in the bathhouse!  Something about a dryer and an electrical short circuit.  Stuff about he could have died, and a burly fireman wrapping him in a blanket which he insisted he didn’t need because he had a different way he preferred to keep warm.  Lots of references to firemen’s poles. And eventually the all clear to go back in to claim belongings.

Okay, so no one died, or got burned or injured.  My life likely wouldn’t have ended had I met Jason, but I’m going to run with the story that the Hush 2 kept me out of harm's way that night.  At brunch on Sunday I mumbled something about essentially being tied up as my excuse for not showing. I mean, it’s not like that hasn’t sometimes been literally true.  And to this day I tell myself that butt plug, in addition to all the faithful and reliable service, saved my life that night.

Please consider hitting the like button on this post or any you read (assuming you did in fact like what you read) because it can mean a lot to writers. Follow me for free, if you’re curious, plus that’s a sexy thing to do. If you really want to make me horny, hit the Subscribe button (also free with me), and if you ReStack we’ll basically be dating. I promise I won’t spam you, but it might make me jerk off thinking about you. I also sometimes add a button below in case you are interested in donating a buck or two toward toys, but that is in no way expected.

I owe my friend David a blowjob, but his cock is too big for my mouth. And by the time I post this I’ll be on the way to owing him a second service.

The fact that you’re reading this may well mean that you’re contributing to this wonderful debt I’m always dying to pay down.

You see, you wouldn’t be reading this at all if it wasn’t for David.  A few months ago, over drinks, I asked him if buying my third cock-cage made me seem a bit obsessed.  He replied without skipping a beat that he owned nine cockrings but only had one cock.  Unspoken was the suggestion that we were aficionados of, rather than slaves to, our fetishes.

That led to a conversation about why I enjoy caging myself, even without a Dom to hold the key for me, which ultimately led to me writing my first piece here on Substack, “Cock Cage Irony”.  Shocked that strangers would enjoy reading my ramblings, and strongly encouraged by David, I started publishing other erotic essays I’d written in the past. New content soon followed.

I promised myself early on that I would acknowledge David’s role in going public with my hobby, and decided that he would qualify for a free blowjob if I ever got to ten subscribers. Well that milestone has arrived and I’m well on my way to twenty, and owing him more yet head.

David would point out that he can get a free blowjob from me anytime he likes.  All he has to do is tell me where and when and I’m on my knees, no questions asked.  It’s the least I can do for a dear friend, but it’s also always my undiluted pleasure to service his beautiful cock.

I’ve had the pleasure of his cock for close to 20 years, but I’ll admit two things.  I’m actually not that good at sucking dick, and David typically doesn’t waste much time with his cock in my mouth.  He’s usually pretty quick to get it inside my ass.

David is the kind of friend you take with you on adventures like getting new genital piercings.  Turns out we use the same piercer (a lovely, straight man who I suspect has handled more cock than the average faggot). David came with me the day I got my most recent body art, a piercing that is a sort of Easter Egg for tops. You’re only ever going to see it if you’re fucking me.

The piercer had me doggy-style on all fours, while he held my balls with one hand and a black marker with the other, and then started consulting with David on the exact right location for my newest crossbar.  I had to work very quickly to conjure up images of dead kittens to prevent an erection. It was incredibly arousing to be treated as an object to be used, but they both had their faces right up in my rear end, and all I could think was don't fart!  I’m sure David saw my sphincter twitch and tighten.

It was David’s cock I turned to after some serious oral surgery a few years ago when I needed to get my jaw working again.  Physiotherapy is expensive, so I tried sucking a dildo like the one in the picture, but it just seemed stupid.  A dildo is a fixed length, girth and hardness no matter how good or bad your technique.  Although it would seem logical to use it to get better at relaxing my jaw I just couldn’t get into it.  I needed a live and responding cock to suck, and David was happy to patiently let me practice.  

These days I can get to the base if he’s soft, but that doesn’t last long.  Once he’s hard I can handle about two thirds of the shaft.  I have no doubt many of you are wanting to try to take all of him.  Some of you probably can.  But now he’s starting to accumulate Rewards Blowjobs and what I really want is to be able to give this King the proper service he deserves.

In the meantime David will likely do what he usually does, which is tolerate my mediocre oral skills for as long as it takes to become obvious that his meat is far bigger than my mouth, at which point he’ll bend me over a chair and start plowing my ass. 

My ass is a really great place for his cock it seems.  It loves being in there and it fits perfectly.  I definitely know when he’s inside. That man gets thick, hard and long.  And he’s a natural born top.  But the reward offer I’ve made him is a free blowjob for every ten subscribers, so I need to be ready to deliver.

It won’t surprise me if David starts recruiting his friends to subscribe, to drive up his free tally.  He will no doubt enjoy reminding me of my mouth’s debt to his meat.  

You can join in the fun too. If you’re not already a follower or subscriber, and if it gives you pleasure to know that you can force me into submission, then subscribe, and tell your friends too.  

You have the power to whore me out and make me blow David even more often than I already do. The slutty, fantasy part of my brain imagines him re-gifting his oversupply of free blowjobs to his friends to use up “before they expire”.

You’re forgiven for thinking this has just turned out to be an advertisement to get more subscribers.

 Perhaps so.  Perhaps it never was about getting more blowjobs for David at all.  If I’m being honest I suspect my true motive all along was to find a way for my mouth to spend more time with one of my favourite penises.  I’ll let you know if it works.

Please consider hitting the like button on this post or any you read (assuming you did in fact like what you read) because it can mean a lot to writers. Follow me for free, if you’re curious, plus that’s a sexy thing to do. If you really want to make me horny, hit the Subscribe button (also free with me), and if you ReStack we’ll basically be dating. I promise I won’t spam you, but it might make me jerk off thinking about you. I also sometimes add a button below in case you are interested in donating a buck or two toward toys, but that is in no way expected.