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The barbeque was reduced to powdery ashes. All the other guests, mostly colleagues from the office, had returned home. Michelle, the host along with her husband, had asked me to stay afterwards. In fact, she’d whispered into my ear that it would be worth my time. She also traced her finger along my forearm and brushed her breasts against my arm as she eased past me to say goodbye to her other guests. I waited on the patio and watched the barbecue’s smoky trail, finishing my bottle of beer in one slug. My heart thudded along in anticipation.
Michelle and I had been flirting for some time at work, nothing untoward, just the type of flirting that happens in offices across the globe: lingering looks, the occasional innuendo and body contact that perhaps remained a moment too long. When she invited me to her gathering, she’d propped herself on my desk and stretched her long smooth legs out in front of her. I’d said yes. She squeezed my thigh before marching back across the office. I watched her taut calves and listened to the sound of the click of her heels receding as my erection pressed agonisingly into my trousers.
Her husband worked in another department on a different floor. Judging by the way he’d been encouraging us to be together at the party, I assumed that the rumours were true: that they had an open relationship. I was younger than both of them by about ten years. She was the type of intelligent, driven woman that had always appealed to me. Quite tall, but with wonderfully curvaceous hips and nice pert breasts. And long, long golden hair that she often pulled into a ponytail at work but allowed the cascade across her backs and shoulders and she did the rounds at the party. She was a wonderful looking woman with a strong personality to match.
The rumour at work had been that they enjoyed extramarital fun, and it hadn’t been lost on my best friend at the company, Jonathan, that she seemed to have signalled me out as her next conquest. Apparently, she liked muscular men younger than herself. Brad, Jonathan told me, liked both men and women. So I replicated her flirting. And as sexy as I found her, as captivating, I was greatly interested in him. For a long time I’ve fantasied about having fun with men, especially married men. I liked powerful physiques, stubble and the semblance of something dark within.
I’m six foot but Brad was an inch taller. Toned, tanned, American, with ordered teeth that contrasted with his darker skin tone when he smiled. While the rumours above Michelle were concerned with her love of anal play, those around Brad were of his dominance in the bedroom and how he used his impressive manhood to cause his playthings to salivate in desire then capitulate in powerful pleasure. I found myself glancing at his crotch when I saw him in our building. A dangerous act but one I was unable to stop once I heard about what resided beneath the thick material of his designer jeans. More dangerous was the drunken text I sent to Michelle after our last out-of-work office. I confessed to Michelle that I frequently had bisexual urges and despite never having acted on any them, I was desperate to try something and soon. She reacted with a wink smiley and a thinking smiley. She seemed to have placed that piece of salacious knowledge at the back of her mind. Soon after, Brad began making regular visits to our floor and made sure he sought me out while he did his rounds.
As the final guest drove down the gravelled driveway, I was sat with Brad in the living, sipping a beer and discussing mundane things about the house and their plans for their summer vacation.
Looking slightly frazzled, damp with perspiration but looking very pretty, Michelle entered the living room and lent against the wall, her long legs extended before her, sun-kissed toes gripping the shag carpet.
“I’m going to go shower and change. I feel sticky and I smell of barbeque smoke.”
“Ok, honey,” said Brad.
“Will you boys be ok without me?”
She didn’t wait for a reply. We listened to her muffled footsteps as she ascended the staircase.
Brad and I were left alone in the living room. As I finished my beer (I’d cycled to party to take advantage of the alcohol; I was feeling its effects: relaxed, humoured, raised libido) and placed it on the table, Brad said: “Michelle really likes you, Josh. You just her type.”
“I know. I like her. She’s stunning. You’re a lucky man.”
“I am. You obviously know she wants to have some fun with you.”
There it was. I felt my face flush red and the beads of sweat break out on my forehead just below my hairline.
“Is that something you’re comfortable with?” I asked, making an effort to sound calm, as though I regularly fooled around with other men’s’ wives.
“It’s something I encourage. Our relationship is different to other people’s. We loved to fuck. We love to fuck each other. But we also love to fuck other people.”
“And I’m the chosen one?”
He smiled, showing that set silivri escort of strong teeth that glistening brightly against his naturally tanned skin and two-day growth of stubble, teeth that made his smile deadly with its attractive pull.
“She’s also mentioned something about you to me. Mind if I sit beside you?”
With a sigh, he stood up from the armchair and came and sat beside me on the sofa. He was smiling at me as he inched closer until our thighs were touching. What was this? I wondered.
“I’m sure you know what I’m referring to?”
“Are you comfortable with this?”
My mouth became very dry and I felt intimidated by this strong man by my side, his thigh pressing against mine. I could feel the warmth of his body through the material.
“Yes, I am.”
He sighed again and placed a hand on my thigh.
He spoke as he gently rubbed from my knee up to my mid-thigh.
“Michelle and I are so happy you could come. We both think you’re wonderful, Jack.” He readjusted his position and when he spoke again his voice was deeper, gruffer. “I know you came here to fuck Michelle, but would you be open to idea of having some fun with the both of us? She’s told me you’ve wanted to have a bi experience for some time. I’d love to help initiate you, and the thought sends Michelle absolutely fucking wild. She starts thinking about it and within minutes she’ll be on her knees tugging at my belt.”
Before the smoke clung to her, Michelle had smelt of a citrus-based perfume, a fruity conditioner and a sharply alluring red wine. Her husband, slightly less smoky, had a strong musky scent and a breath made warm and enveloping by the straight whiskey he’d started sipping once the other guests had left. I could sense his anticipation. His lips were wet, his eyes large, lustful and concentrated. We all know what it’s like to sit beside someone and feel a powerful sexual urge charging through your body, almost as though you are an electrical pylon. I could sense his eagerness and smell the sweet hum of his sweat, his aftershave, the whiskey, the faint tang of his body odour, the barbeque smoke on his shirt. I relaxed into my seat. I could feel my prick stirring, twitching into alertness. But I also anxious and my mouth was suddenly very dry.
He handed me the tumbler. I knocked the remaining mouthful of whiskey back in one shot. The burn rose and flooded my chest and mouth, but it was pleasant and I felt the grip of my anxiety loosen. My cock was getting harder, edging down my thigh, searing my inner leg with it warmth.
His eyes followed the shift fabric of my jeans where my long cock extended at it slow but purposeful growing pace.
Smiling, he said: “I know you’re here to have fun with her. But are you open to the idea of having fun with both of us?” He squeezed my thigh. No man had ever touched my thigh in that way before, possessive, signalling intent. He was ten years older than myself, his sexual experience greatly dwarfed mine. He knew exactly what he was doing. He turned my cheek and kissed me on the mouth. No soft probing start, just full lip contact and a tongue confidentially lapping over mine. I placed my hand on his hard, compact torso, felt the grooves of his abdominals. The sound of our kissing was interspersed with the leather creaking as we adjusted positions. His tongue probed my mouth, and I circled it with mine, tasting the alcohol. I rubbed his chest, feeling the stub of a hard nipple, and he sighed into mouth. I breathed him into me. I could feel his heart beat and was happy to discover it was beater faster just like mine.
“I don’t know,” I said when he pulled away. “This is all very new to me. I haven’t ever done anything like this.”
Sexually astute, Brad knew this was pointless stalling on my part.
“Do you ever think about men’s cocks?”
“I have. Quite a lot recently. I watch a lot of porn and I love seeing big dicks.”
“Me too. Have you wondered what mine is like?”
“I am now. We’ve all heard the rumours.”
He smiled and kissed me again, slowly, passionately, and then left my kissing face in limbo and he pulled away from me. “I’m going to show it to you. Tell me what you think. And do whatever you want to do. You’re in charge, for now.”
Brad took his hand from my thigh and began to unzip his fly. With effort, he managed to remove his erect penis through the opening. He had to readjust his position, and when he did so his penis flung forward and backwards before righting itself, jutting upward like a marble Roman column. He tensed it and it sprouted upward and outward more, the head pulsing a with more fresh blood squeezed inside its silky area. I was mesmerised, and my mouth instantly began to salivate as though ever taste bud had been activated. I thought his cock was beautiful. Apart from my own, it was the first erect cock I’d ever seen in the şirinevler escort flesh.
“I think it’s amazing. The perfect cock.”
We were both staring at it, but I was the only one licking my lips. He pulled his jeans away from the base, letting it stretch ever farther, revealing an extra meaty inch. It was very large, no, it was enormous. It curved like a slightly cocked finger. A number of veins sprouted outward at the base and wrapped up and around a midsection as thick as a woman’s forearms. The veins were the colour of lavender. As the foreskin achingly peeled backward, it revealed a glorious swollen head that was a pinkish crimson colour. He pulled on it for a few moments, dragging that abundance of skin downward so the head could emerge and strain upward. It seemed to grew a touch more with each deep stroke. Then a droplet of precum was oozing outward. Brad dapped his fingers into it and moved it toward me, drawing a line like a spider’s thread from his cock to my mouth. I took his fingertip into my eager mouth and tasted this man’s precum. It was sweet. The taste was instantly gone. That line of ejaculate was a path for me to follow. I bent down and took a moment to smell in the musky scent of his loins, his cocks and his balls, the hair and the silky oozing liquid.
“Yes, enjoy it. You’ve made me so hard. Enjoy my cock. Take your time.”
He rubbed my neck, but was also encouraging me with the weight of his hand to move closer into him. Where to begin with something so substantial? I’d never sucked a cock before, I’d fantasied about it, but nothing more. The smell wafted into my eager nostrils as he edged my open lips closer. I began at the base and drew my tongue from the sharp edge of his zipper the tip of his cock, the sensitive point on the back of the head. I heard him moan. I lapped at the velvet edge of the back of his helmet, enjoying the taste, the texture.
“Wait.” He slid forward and removed his trousers. “Get on your knees on front of me, Jack. I want to see how you suck me.”
“Yes.” My voice was full of lust and obedience. I went to my knees. Brad stood up. “Slap me with it…please.”
Brad smiled. He stood over me. From below, his cock appeared even larger, both as tough as a length of wood but with the plumpness of a chunk of meat. He dropped it onto my face. It made a warm thwack sound. He let it rest across my forehead for a moment. I could feel its unique pulse and its warmth. The weight and the smell of it had caused my cock to painfully push at the tight material of my jeans. But I enjoyed that tight sensation. My own satisfaction could wait. He wiped it over my cheeks, my nose, where I drew in a gulp of his scent, pure testosterone, and again on my forehead. He then slapped my cheek with it, once, twice, and such was his hard girth it knocked my head to the side. There was faint cool prick where his precum wetted my cheek.
My mouth was aching for it. He knew this and smiled at. “Stick out your tongue. Do you want to taste me?”
I stuck out my tongue, far out of my salivating, waiting mouth. With his hands gripping the base, he slowly but unnerving pushed himself into my expectant hole. I felt it push my lips apart, stretching them away from my teeth. Deeper he probed until his silky head buffeted again the back of my throat. I sealed him inside me and began to explore how far I could reach my tongue around his thickness.
“How do I taste?”
With such a large object tensing in my mouth, he knew I couldn’t speak, but my eyes told him that I thought it tasted amazing. Those eyes soon began to water as he slid it in and out of my mouth. It really did taste lovely, and the smell of his groin was intoxicating. His cock made a thwacking sound then a pop followed by my heady exhale. Links of spittle stretched from my mouth to his cock like a drawbridge instantly closed as he plunged it back into my greedy hole. By this point I had placed my hands on his ass with the fingers of one hand tracing lines around his sucking asshole. I was becoming a good cock sucker on autopilot. I wanted to please this man with the gorgeous cock. So I withdrew from his penis and used my saliva that was decorating it with white swirls and used as much of my own spittle as I could for a lubricant. I moved my hand back around him and my finger then slid into his puckered asshole. I knew he enjoyed that initial sensation because his cock ballooned a little more in my mouth and he thrust forward.
My watering eyes must’ve said ‘fuck my mouth’, because while I sucked and licked like a man feeding for his life, he began to penetrate my mouth with harder practised strokes. I felt my eyes begin to water like the starlets whore I masturbated over daily. I looked up at him with the same imploring devotion that I knew he wanted. My supplication was complete when he pushed himself deeper than previously and held the back of her head with şişli escort both of my hands. It was lodged inside my mouth and penetrating the depths of my throat, a living length of meat that pulsed and twitched inside me.
“Hold it. Oh my god, we’re so happy you came.”
My nose was tickled by his tidy, chestnut-tinged pubic hair, and for a brief moment I felt light-headed. He pulled away and a fell forward gasping. Instantly he righted me. But before giving me another dose, he wiped his sodden member across my face, as though marking me as his in the most animalistic way possible. I must’ve stunk of his sex and my spit. I squeezed another finger into his ass. It was tight as fuck, but soon his asshole gobbled the extra finger inside.
He groaned. I noticed his knees were trembling. My stomach became taut and relaxed. With an animalistic grunt, he wrapped his hands around the back of my head start fucking my mouth, until I made a gagging sound. In my mind’s eye I could see us together, my head tilted back as he fucked my face. I hadn’t expected this from their end of summer soiree! It was an uncomfortable feeling but I was hooked on the sensation of him inside me, so I closed my eyes and took the punishment, taking it so he would allow me to pleasure him again and again. I allowed myself the thought of what such a thing my do when he put it in my ass. The very idea of his trying to squeeze it into me, terrified me. But I wanted to feel a completeness with him. I wanted him to use my hole the way he was using my mouth.
All in good time, I thought.
I’d never tasted cum that wasn’t my own. I knew my first dose was seconds away. His penis was so hard, so impossible rigid in my mouth, that I thought a violent spasm of sperm might take my head clean off. The bulbous head seemed to have swollen even farther. I looked at him, imploring him to unload, to fill my mouth or cover my face, whatever this handsome, athletic, sexy man wanted. I was completely submissive, and enjoying it. I felt like the women I’d watched in porn, the cum-hungry girls who submit entirely to well-hung studs. I understood how good it feels to please someone totally, to the recipient of their urges and desires.
His fingers were deep in my hair, squeezing my scalp, painfully but pleasingly: this seemed to be the overriding style to his love making, pain and pleasure. My fingers were far inside his ass. I’d forgotten to use them as an extra tool so I now made circular motions against his tense walls, tickling the sensitive nub of his prostate. My other hand was cupping his heavy, low-hanging balls while my fingers tickled at his perineum. I wanted ever erogenous zone within my reach to be activated and pleasured in some way. I had spent enough time exploring his balls, and I made a mental note that it was something I would rectify next time around.
“I’m going to come,” he said, and his already enormous member seemed to grow even more. I gripped the base of his shaft – it was the girth and solidity of a sizeable root vegetable – and squeezed so that nothing would be left in his balls. “Fuck!”
How was my first load of cum? My first surprise was the sheer volume. I’d always considered myself a big cummer, but his ejaculation filled my mouth! It was warm, sweet and salty, very moreish. I kept it there for him to see, looking up with eyes waiting for instruction.
He looked down from the ceiling to my waiting face. A thick droplet was caught on his bellend, so his wiped it one my cheeks, searing my skin with his warmth.
“Show me,” he commanded.
I obliged. I could feel it slosh around in my mouth and almost run down the back of my throat. I would drink it all for him when he gave me the order.
“Is there any for me?” Michelle asked. “You boys certainly got well acquainted, didn’t you?”
She was standing in the doorway with stockings and a black piece of negligee that ended at her pussy. When she walked across the floor, I could see her shaven cunt, two full lips. She kissed her husband and they both looked down at me with a pool of his warm deposit swirling in my mouth.
“Give some to me.” She bent down and arced her head upward. I dribbled some of her husband’s cum into her mouth. I’d had enough of the teasing and decided to swallow what he’d given to me. It rolled down my gullet, sweet and smooth. I could still taste it clinging to the sides of my mouth.
I noticed some more of the sticky substance hanging from his erection that was pulsing as it receded, his big head sliding back inside its wonderful hood, and I lunged forward to savour the last droplets. His cock twitched in my mouth, seeming to fight against the desire for another reaction. His weapon seemed to need a few more minutes to recharge. If he’d managed to get it hard again, I would’ve sucked him to completion again, again and again. I wanted him to use my mouth like he just had, with his large hands directing the trajectory of my mouth. I wanted another mouthful of his come, and I also wanted him to cover my face with a warm load so I could feel it run across my skin.
“I think it’s your turn, Jack.” He said to me. “Michelle, do you fancy sucking this gorgeous man’s cock?”
“Sit down and take off all your clothes.”
I sat on the sofa.
“I’ll do your pants,” she said.
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