Afternoon Delight

“Remember when you made that crack about Corey?” I asked my husband, who’d turned from his monitor array when I walked into his work-room (don’t call it an “office” or a “study”!). “Well, I was, in fact, correct.”

One of my younger husband Kent’s most attractive traits is the way the arteries in his corded body and particularly his neck roll when he is thinking and cocks his head to the side. Damn cute and even more handsome too; but beside the point. When the penny dropped for him his focus snapped back to me full frontal. With a grin, he asked, “Is there  something to see right now?” as his muscles pumped and rolled when he got out of his chair presumptively and headed toward me and the work-room door grinning. 

He led the way through our house to the opposite end where our bedroom and sitting room are; he knew that’s where I had been. In Florida they call our single story home’s interior layout a “split floor plan” to indicate that the master and guest rooms are separated by the rest of the house between them.

As we passed through the house I chose to keep quiet despite his many questions and let him see for himself. I was pretty certain the small amount of time that had passed would not have caused the scene to have ended.

“Is he alone?” finally prompted me to reply dryly. “Unless there’s something I don’t know, you can’t tell if a guy’s gay by the way he jerks off.” Luckily my often sensitive husband knows my sarcasm is meant to be humorous and not venomous.

We’d rounded the corner and cleared the hall leading to our rooms, and we proceeded at pace through to the wall of accordion doors off our sanctum. With a view like I could see continued I was counteracting some of the guilt instill had over the cost of having them put in. I pointed with no small note of triumph through our one-way glass across our lanai and pool area, across our lawn and the neighbors’ to the area behind their house where there’s a strangely placed hedge along their back wall. 

“Whoa!” Kent exclaimed, surprised at seeing our well built young neighbor getting vigorously plowed up the ass by an familiar athletic form. “He has an even better booty on him than I thought!” was Kent’s first comment.

“He’s a bottom just like I guessed if you recall,” I told him with greater note of triumph. “He should be using that fine bubble butt of his. I don’t know who that stud is who has him bent over; he is one fine looking piece of jock ass himself!” I commented back. 

“Uh YEAH,” Kent acknowledged. And then he turned toward me with a grin. “It’s obvious that you’ve made a thorough study. Though for the sake of the record we only know that Corey IS bottoming; not that he IS a bottom.” Before i could dispute the point that any young stud taking a horse dick like that as easily as he was obviously had a well-honed bottom talent Kent went on. “How long were you watching them before you shared this scene with me?”

I laughed. “There was the ceremonial ripping off of bathing suits and exchanging of blowjobs, both of which which I enjoyed solo.” Kent chuckled with me. 

“We knew he’s a dumb jock … like his father. But that area is full-on visible from half of our back windows; so what the heck is he doing this there for?”

I thought about his question, which I’d already been pondering. “Two possibilities,” I offered. “First, he was that desperate for this jock’s big black cock.” I knew that Kent’s political correctness had been pricked so I put my hand up and went on. “And by the way; while we had seen Corey had that very nice bulge, I’m now wondering if he stuffs gym socks in it.” Kent leaned forward over my shoulder a bit, as if to get a clearer view of our neighbor’s hardon bouncing as he got railed. 

“Mmmm I see what you mean. And the second possibility for their choice of venue?” Kent asked in a tone that seemed a bit too analytical given that we were both highly aroused watching two jocks rut about one hundred fifty feet outside our windows. And I could feel Kent’s formidable hardon through his shorts throbbing against my ass. 

“He knows we can see them and is putting on this show for us. After all, the other side of their house has hedges and that weird dogleg inlet of the lake beside it.”

I didn’t counterpoint my argument by pointing out that the other side of our neighbors’ house is also in full-on, though far more distant, view of our odious neighbor down the street, O’Donovan. I knew that only because that jackass had demanded that our former neighbor trim a bush on that side of her home so that he could have a two-foot sliver of view to the lake across our street from his front window. To our horror she complied; we would have asked that fat fuck how the view was from the inside of his ass! The mere thought of that rude and inconsiderate walking waste of space could have killed any arousal if Kent hadn’t been grinding into me and I wasn’t watching two sweating muscled jocks go at it. 

Not that I have issues or anything; and I know every neighborhood has their resident issues. But this mofo’s wife is the nicest person and he talks down to her and orders her around in public. Plus he’s rude to others on a regular basis. He is truly the kind of guy you would like to be jaywalking as you sped down a rain-slicked road. Whoa, not that I have issues! 

Fortunately the thoughts of O’Donovan were dispelled by the hot scene in front of me and the action behind me. Kent wrapped his other arm around me; he was holding me close from behind and grinding his raging bone into my very much wanting crack. An octave lower than his usual voice, with his hand moving down into my own shorts and making me gasp at his grip on my own raging wet bone, he growled into my ear, “That’s hot.”

My husband’s grip on me began sliding the length of me as his grinding into my backside became more rhythmic. We were on a different cadence than the two young studs next door, whose stamina frankly impressed me. The high afternoon sun glistened in the sweat that rolled off their bodies; their muscles shimmered. And the unknown fucker just kept drilling our neighbor with unflagging vigor now tens of minutes into the shag.

I reached to my own waist and pulled my running shorts down. I took Kent’s formidable rod in a grope in case he missed the signal; he hadn’t. He removed his other hand from his tight hold on me and brought it up behind my neck and spit into it. The sound of it, the sight of the errant spray that hit our pricey door’s glass, the anticipation of its purpose; all made my cock throb and issue another glob of cock snot. 

Kent applied his spit to my hole both expertly and rough at the same time. “Fuck!” I cried-out with all the need that continued to build as his long fingers pushed into me without pause. 

“Is there more to that?” Kent’s hot breath and sultry voice taunted me. He crooked his middle finger and hit my prostate just enough to make my body pulse.

“ME, you fucker!” I answered indignantly, clutching behind me at his shorts’ button and zipper. “Fuck ME!”

With all the grappling grace that two horny men can muster he got his shorts down, and I grabbed a palmful of my natural lube and reached back again to coat him well for entry. Still, when he did shove up into me it felt like he’d driven a truck into my ass. “FUCK YEAH! Take my ass!” I shouted. Because that’s how we rolled.

Because I loved it. The pain in me borne of his urgency to relieve himself using me. The almost immediate beginning of the end of the unbelievable pain as it morphed  into the paradisiacal pain of being a man’s vassal with purpose to serve the need of his fucker. 

“Those boys are young enough,” he hissed in my ear. “Maybe I should offer them your slutty hole when I’m done for a fast-follower second round for them.”

My entire body buzzed at the thought. I flailed my arm back and found the wall switch and found the right button. The doors to our lanai began to accordion back and open. 

“You dirty fuck!” Kent growled and jabbed into me harder. 

“FUCK YEAH! FUCK ME!” I shouted now

With purpose of being heard. 

And I was. The two boys’ rhythm was interrupted momentarily as our neighbor looked directly at us with a shit-eating grin on his face. His stunning top took a few sweeps with his eyes before found us. “Come on, Glenn, fuck me!” our neighbor urged, fucking himself on his buddy’s massive cock. 

“Fuck, dude, this is so fuckin’ hot!” Glenn said, resuming his rut hard enough that Corey was ooomphing with every thrust. 

“I knew I was right,” I got out, gasping from my husband’s deliberate jabs to my prostate. 

“You know a dirty slut when you see one. Takes one to know one.” Kent was right, of course. 

And he was using me like the dirty slut I am. Fucking me with abandon, pile-driving my prostate until he could feel my body tense then backing off and leaving me crying out in need. But now fucking me just as hard and fast as the young buck next door, just deliberately off-target while he made me beg. 

I squirmed to move myself in a way to get my prostate at his jack-hammer. “Get me off, damn you!” I pleaded. “Show these boys how it’s done!” Maybe shaming him into it might get me what I craved. 

My mind’s background track, overshadowed by all of my body’s erupting nerve endings, produced one cogent thought about something other than our pleasure. “Boys” was an insensitive choice of words, as our strawberry blonde neighbor boy’s guest was a magnificent ebony-skinned African American young jock, who didn’t deserve the reference, however unintentionally and literally my intent. Both of my children are older than those two college boys!

“Fuck me harder Glenn!” Corey urged. “I want your nutt before Mr. S. gets his!” Dirty fucked indeed!

Given than they’d been at it more than twice as long as we had, and allowing for the differential in our ages that usually includes a hastened blastoff to sperm divestiture for young men, I didn’t see a likelihood that Corey’s stretched hole wouldn’t be shot full of college boy cum before mine. Apparently neither did Glenn.

“Yeah? You want my load, you rich bitch boy? You’ve fuckin’ been begging for it. Hell for anyone’s!” Glenn huffed out while he drove that big cock of his home over and over. “I bet you’d like those two daddies to have your pussy next!”

And apparently there was something to that. Corey began gasping incoherently and his quite adequate but average hard-on began jetting an awe-inspiring spray of cum into the bushes. 

“Fuck,” Kent and I exclaimed in collective appreciative for the quantity and force of it. 

“Yeah you little bitch. Spill that fuckn’ load thinking about the next dick and the next dick after that filling your dirty puss!” Glenn hissed, driving hard enough into Corey’s guts that he was crying out with every thrust. 

“Give. It. To. Me.”

I was thinking it, but Corey had said it. 

“Oh fuck I feel it!” Corey gasped as we watched Glenn’s thrusts get impossibly more brutal. “You’re even bigger. FUCK man you’re tearing me up!

“Take it you pussy bitch! Take this quarterback load!”

With a final deep thrust and grind, and with his hands dig into Corey’s waist, Glenn came … hard. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Fuckin’ take it! Fuck yeah!” It went on as Glenn’s Olympic statue of a body jerked and kept shooting. 

Kent had again resumed pounding my prostate, and this time he didn’t back off as my cries escalated. I went into orbit with unusually forceful thrust. I was proud to see that my own eruption, though not quite as formidable in terms of distance and not as voluminous as the younger man who lives with his parents next door, was pretty fuckn studly!

“Yeah buddy!” Glenn affirmed while Corey was on his knees sucking his butt-slimed cock clean. 

Kent began grunting, and I felt his bell-end get bigger inside me like it does. “Come on. Shoot that load. Use my ass and get it!” I shouted as my softening cock dribbled dregs of my load. 

“Fuck!” Kent exhaled in a last drawn-out cry of relief when he was shooting me full of his hot seed. 

As Kent’s final frenzied thrusts waned, Glenn called across. “Good job sir!” He stood there proudly slick with sweat and his big black cock still more than half hard. “This bitch’s pussy is mine,” he said, his arm around our neighbor’s shoulder against him. “I give you dudes full access any time any way. He’s mine to gift. It’s a sort of reparation thing,” he added with a hearty laugh and Corey smacked his lat.

Complicated, I thought. But not complicated, my re-hardening cock thought. Kent was still inside me, and I could feel his cock agreeing. 

“You men look like you could use a cool-down Kent called over my ‘uffffffff’ when he pulled out of me. We both stepped out of our shorts and walked out toward our pool. “Join us if you want,” he offered just before we both dove in. 

The low hedge around the outside of the pool screen kept us from seeing if they would come over. Until that is the first one then the other easily flung himself over the five-foot fence between our properties. Visual poetry as those tight jock muscles rippled and rolled, the sun still glistening in their sweat. A moment later our trusty beast Sasha had charged the door to the screened enclosure around our pool area. “Sasha,” I snapped, followed by the one short and one long whistle that is the command for Sasha to stand down; which he did  

The boys both stopped with their dicks still swinging because Glenn was in front.  

Corey knows Sasha and went around Glenn and through the door because they know each other through the fence. Glenn proceeded cautiously and stood as if he was ready to bolt while he let Sasha give him the sniff test. Apparently he passed. 

The young bucks and their swinging dicks came across the deck toward the edge of the pool as Sasha loped back toward the air conditioning in the house. Our dog his beautiful but watching two muscled studs bodies in motion; captivating.  They each dove into the far side of the pool and swam toward us. 

— - — - — - —

I didn’t bother to change the names of the neighbor boy next door or his buddy. When Kent urged me to write the encounter and post it to GayDemon, the boys were still here; they were lounging with us later on in the early evening beach breeze by the pool, and we talked about grilling some steaks in the same conversation as we talked about mansex. They both encouraged me to use their real names because it would be “sick.” Kent had to assure me that meant it was okay. Corey, Glenn reiterated, is still gifted to us for our unlimited pleasure; based on our pool-time that is a great gift indeed. Corey is all in favor. Glenn alas is finishing a junior year summer break visit with his buddy and leaving today. They remained best friends after high school; Glenn’s athletic prowess garnered him a scholarship to Yale of all places! They’re both nice young men, with just the right combination of seriousness, respect, integrity, and healthy doses of optimism and ambition to renew hope in our country’s future. We’ll have to thank Corey’s parents for raising such a … fine young man when we see them at the club next time.