Al's Massage

Saturday morning I awoke to … pain.  In fact every part of me ached; as I knew it would the night before when I was plummeting toward the floor from a ladder.

“Bad?” Kent asked.  He was looking at my stiff dick but listening to me groaning when I tried to move to take my morning piss.  (For any piss pigs out there wondering why my husband didn’t take care of that for me right there and then: we do that in the wet room not in our bed.)

“Ohhhhhhhhhh,” I groaned again as I slowly pulled myself to sitting on the side of the bed.  “Aaaaaack!” I hissed as I got to my feet.  “FUCK ME!” I said hobbling toward the bathroom.

“Much as I’d love to it seems like that’s not the type of help you need right now hon,” Kent commiserated.

“What I need is either a spinal tap, traction, or a massage,” I called over the loud stream of my piss.

“I don’t think the first or second are likely to happen; but remember that young chiropractor who gave us his card a few weeks ago?  I remember it said ‘Therapeutic Massage’ on it?”

“What about that cute little masseur I used back in February; after I strained every muscle in my body digging that trench?  He did me good!” I said a bit lasciviously as I recalled exactly how good he did both of us after the massage.

“My first thought was Theo.”  Theo owns a very profitable physical therapy practice that he’s in the process of expanding to south Florida.  “But he’s down in Miami for another week.  And I really want someone actually trained to at least know if you’ve really damaged anything. I’d call Jef but he and Ehsan are kayaking in Canada.”

“Yeah; damn them for being somewhere cool,” I half-joked.

I finished my piss and then moved my arm first to grab my dick to shake and immediately cried-out.  “Ack that fucking hurts,” I bellowed as I shook-off.

Kent was thumbing his phone when I returned to the bedroom.  My many and prolonged moans and groans as I got horizontal again made me miss something my husband said.

“I said I send that guy an SOS.”

“Seriously?  Though at this point I’m not challenging you.  If he CAN help, I’d be grateful.”

The young chiropractor we’d met at some friends’ pool party responded immediately and told Kent he usually didn’t take patients on Saturday; but he’d make himself available.  Kent arranged for him to come to us; the office the medical office the chiro worked out of was closed on Saturday and he knew the air conditioning was timed and off in non-business hours.  It would take half the morning to get it cooled; the chiro knew that from arriving early on a Monday once.  Also he and Kent decided via their prolonged text exchange that the car ride would have been agony for real because everything hurt when my body moved; the house call would solve that.

Kent looked up from his phone finally.  “He said that depending on the injuries you have it may not really be much that he can do; he said a lot of times your body just needs to heal after minor soft tissue injuries and if it’s worse then he’ll suggest we go to the E.R..”

I bristled.  “Injuries!  E.R.?  What the fuck did you tell him?  You make it sound like I was in an accident!”

I’d call plummeting off a ladder, stumbling along trying to catch your balance until you slammed your shoulder into a wall, and then slamming down on your other shoulder to the floor an accident,” Kent said dryly.  Before I could snap some retort he added, “He also said you might consider taking a hot bath before he gets here.  I told him we have a jacuzzi.”

“It’s fucking ninety-some degrees out!” I protested.

“There’s the jacuzzi in our bathroom too,” Kent reminded me gently.  One was twenty yards outside to my right.  The other was twenty feet to the left in the bathroom.  I looked both ways.  “If you want to stay in the aircon I’ll fill the bathroom tub.”

“Fuck it.  I’ll use the big one outside.”

“I love it when you USE the BIG ONE; particularly outside,” he cracked grabbing his huge dick as he said it.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” I moaned as I tried to bend over and show him my hole and how much I would love that too.  “May be a while hon,” I growled as I slowly raise myself painfully.

The jacuzzi stays at 104° and we were feeling it when the phones and Echo on the lanai went off to tell us we had a visitor coming into the country club.  He was right on time.

Kent helped me out of the jacuzzi as he’d helped me in; his strength and muscle mass supported me so my movements took minimal muscle effort to get up the steps, out, and inside the house.  We’d raised the thermostat in our bedroom-end of the house but it was still chilly when we went in; not freezing because we’d left the French doors open to accelerate the warming.

Kent brought me a fluffy bathrobe and got it on me when the alerts went off again that someone was in our drive.  “I’ll go let him in; you relax,” Kent said though I was sort of propped against the door jam to our bathroom saving any movement.

Sasha had responded to the alerts; he knows the driveway alert from the front walk alert from the front door alert.  If somehow we go straight to front door alert (Amazon deliveries cutting across the lawn for example) he races to the door.  In this case since it was the driveway he sauntered to the foyer where he could head to the laundry room door to the garage if the back door chime signaled that became the point of entry; or turn to the front door if the front walk chime sounded.  Then he could watch the approach on the front walk.

From where I was I saw Sasha sit casually facing the door; he hears the chime before we hear the first note.  The chiro was coming up the front walk.  “Sasha will help,” I told Kent sardonically.

I didn’t move; I’d learned that lesson and was saving my movement as much as I could.  I could see the deepest area of the foyer through our sitting room from our bedroom where I leaned against the bathroom doorway.  I heard the door open, Kent greeting the chiro, the chiro’s pleasantly masculine deep voice that was vaguely familiar to me from when we met, Kent intro’ing Sasha, praise from the chiro for Sasha (as is the case with all visitors), some comments about our house and the decorating, and Sasha sauntering away as he generally does after an initial sight/sniff/pet.  “He’s in here,” Kent told the chiro, and he came into view.  “There’s plenty of room for the table in here.”

He emerged into view and came through the sitting room with a large leather-covered carry over his shoulder.  He smiled broadly and gently bent his knees and then set the massage table carrier on the floor.  “Nice to see you again Al; wish it wasn’t because you’re in pain.  Thanks for calling me!”  His deep voice was warm.  “Warmer in here,” he said as he approached.  “That’s better if we’re dealing with muscles usually; and it’ll be a lot more comfortable for you if we end up doing a massage.”

He wasn’t the only one who was warm.  We’d been at a pool party given by some gay friends in the San Marco area of town when we met Greg; a sea of fit men in speedos, trunks, and jams was the landscape.  Greg was as appealing as all in that company; alone he was stunning!  Soccer type shorts snug on his well-muscled butt, tight tank top which showed every ridge of every muscle underneath and accentuated massive delts, strong hairy legs and arms.

“If this was a porn plot there’d be no maybe … “ I joked.

Greg looked me directly in the eye.  “This is a professional call Al; at least that’s what I’m responding to.  I’d certainly be open to another kind of meeting but this is to assess your injury.”  He held the eye contact until Kent cleared his throat behind him.

Kent mock-coughed.  “Therapy!” he coughed out.

I laughed … then moaned at the shooting pain from several areas.

Greg let go of the strap from his table that he’d had in his hand since he set it down.  He approached me.  “Can I see what we’re dealing with?” he asked and reached out to put his hands fingers-first under the lapels of my robe.

I didn’t resist and his soft hands gently made contact with my pecs and rubbed up to my shoulders.  I hadn’t moved; I was leaning with the bathroom door jam in the middle of my back.  “Tell me if anything hurts,” he said so close that I smelled his minty breath.

Greg gently probed and squeezed and moved my arms and head back and forth.  The first time I told him it hurt was when he raised my left arm.  “That’s because you tensed when I began to move you.  Let’s try again and you stay as slack as you can but stay standing.”

“Okay,” I said tentatively.  The robe was still tied at my waist but it was slack around my shoulders from him pushing it out.  He again put one hand on my shoulder and one on my arm and lifted it.  “That’s it; stay relaxed.”  That time it wasn’t until he had my arm up and out and rolled it some at my shoulder when I huffed.  “That hurts?”

“Yeah.  No pain no gain right?” I joked feebly.

“My job is to help you avoid or reduce pain,” he said without acknowledging my joke.

He went on like that thoroughly covering my front upper body.  He touched, prodded gently, moved me, and rubbed every part of me then gently guided me to move to the opposite side of the door jam face-first.  Then he pulled my robe back over my shoulders and checked my back upper torso.  There were a few winces and one yelp from me; all of those were when he moved me with the yelp being when he rotated me at the waist.  “Actually not terrible so far,” he pronounced.  “Nothing torn that I can tell; and that’s great.  I can check your legs best on the table where I can support them when I raise them.”  Kent snorted and I shot him a look as best as I could without moving my neck to face him more directly.  Greg gently turned me to face him.  “Let’s check your lower abs, groin, and glutes while you’re standing though; that’ll be less strain.”  He reached to my waist and took the robe tie in his hands.  “Okay?” he asked?

“We’re usually nude at home anyway,” I answered inanely.  “The robe was for your benefit like Kent’s shorts,” I answered disingenuously as for my part it was because I was cold when we came inside.  It had warmed enough that I was warm in the robe.  Or was it the chiro’s big warm hands.

He opened the tie of the robe and it fell to the floor since it had already been pulled off my shoulders.  Greg got down to one knee and began touching, pressing, and rubbing my abdomen seeming oblivious to my heavy dick and nuts inches from his chin.  Then he worked my groin.  Only when he moved me did it hurt and then not as much as when I’d been moving myself before.  As he prodded closer to my shaft I started to chub.  “Uh sorry about that?”

Greg didn’t stop.  “Glad to see things are in working order there.”  He delivered it so dryly I wasn’t sure if that was a medical assessment I should be grateful for or just a brush-off.

He finished and went to get himself up.  Whether intentional or not he moved forward before he rose and his warm breath caught my half-hard shaft.  That was all but it was enough; I was on the way to full mast as he stood.

He looked me eye-to-eye.  “It’s likely all just very minor pulls; no tears that I can detect at least from here up.”  He put his hand on the top edge of my bush when he said it and doing so caused the heel of his hand to brush my shaft; I felt my dick twitch.  “So unless you’re feeling it in your legs which I didn’t detect when we moved you to this side of the door then you’re in good shape for a quick recovery.”

“Good as in ‘no … AAACK! … therapy?’”I asked.  The air quotes and both arms raised got me and caused the groan.

He laughed.  For the first time something non-clinical.  “Oh yes.  Now that I know you’re not injured in any way that I could cause you damage through manipulation I’m going to ‘therapy’ (his turn for air quotes) you SO hard!”

I laughed uneasily, winced from it, and wasn’t sure if the porn plot really was just slow to start or not.  I looked at Kent with helplessness clear on my face.

Greg said to Kent: “Give me a hand with my table?  Then we can get your very virile husband here,” he threw an obvious glance to my raging boner, “some … relief.”

Kent and Greg both helped me onto the massage table; I had declined the heated pad under the sheet he covered the table with.  I had also declined the “draping sheet” he offered; I repeated, “Kent and I are usually naked at home.”

My husband is generally quick to push sexual innuendo to opportunity or action; today was an exception.  He was reserved and non-reacting to both my and Greg’s innuendos.  As they supported my weight and lifted me onto the table I finally said, “Oh for chrissake Kent; get those fucking shorts off already.  I feel like I’m naked at the coronation.”  I turned to Greg.  “You too.  Our house our rules!”

Greg reacted before Kent and with one swipe removed his tank top.  His torso was as jacked as Kent’s and furry like mine; though he trimmed his close.  Before he hooked his thumbs in his shorts he said, “I don’t mind a bit; but I don’t undress with clients usually and never until I’m invited.  Actually I’ve never undressed with a client until now; I’ll have to include that wait-until-invited in my standard operating procedures.” He proceeded to shed his shorts which either had a liner or he was commando.  His Adonis belt was in full display framing a thick but very trimmed bush around a nicely presented average-sized cut dick hanging over above-average balls.  I withheld the note of appreciation that was radiating from my own balls and quietly thanked heaven for the view because I’d laid my head sideways on the table donut while we still hadn’t started.

Kent snorted and got out of his shorts.  “Such a gracious invitation!”  He settled himself in a chair facing us and exaggerated getting comfortable; his spread was typically wide and his huge dick and balls hung off the edge of the chair.

“And another nice view; thanks!” I teased him.

No argument here,” Greg chimed in as i heard him rubbing his hands together.  I heard that but didn’t see it from my angle face-down with my head now in the donut.

“Well, now we’re all comfortable,” I said.

I didn’t know until his hands touched my shoulders that he’d been rubbing cream in his palms; it was cool but not cold as it touched my skin but immediately warmed as he worked his hands over my skin.  He worked silently and very slowly expanded the space he covered with his light strokes and very slightly increased the pressure.

Music began; Kent had activated a the house sound system from his phone.  Classic Sade from before Kent was even born was the first song on Kent’s favorite mellow relaxation playlist; Smooth Operator.  I wondered if there was a message here as the sexy chiro gently rubbed the first cool then warming cream over my shoulders and on and up my neck.  I didn’t drift off but I floated into a place of relaxation of muscles I hadn’t realized were tense.

The rub-down progressed; Greg’s touch was light and then medium but never firm as he worked down my back.  The music progressed with Matt Bianco, some more Sade, Leo Sayer … until it was no longer distinct and simply a back-drop for my relaxation.  And the three of us never uttered a word; the only sound was my occasional reaction when the chiro began working my arms and moved them enough to make me tense-up and then him humming me to relaxation again.  No pain but the fear of it.

When Greg got below my waist he didn’t bypass my glutes; in fact there he went to town with his strong hands and worked each of my buns more and more aggressively until I was moaning in near rapture.  He began straying his fingers along my crack and then rubbing it more directly; then his finger teased my hole as he swiped over it back and forth; intentionally teasing me or not I had no idea.  I grunted and spread my legs wide to ensure he had the best access.

Greg moved on to my upper thighs one by one.  He tested the waters with his pressure and found me free of strain in my hamstrings as well and gave me his all.  I was moaning in abject pleasure and wondered if Kent was watching, reading in his phone, or gazing out at the lake which was his go-to relaxation focus.

By the time Greg finished a very aggressive massage of my legs and feet he was breathing harder and sweating.  He ran his hand up my left leg, across my left butt-cheek, and my my back to my neck and stood at my head.  I could see his feet below me as I faced toward the floor and I felt a drip or three of his sweat on my shoulders.  That had my dick filling again.

He spoke and startled me after so long in silence.  “We have choices.  I can turn you over now.  Or I can rework your back where much of the pulls are located and increase pressure a bit now that you’re more relaxed; your body is very relieved of strain and relaxed versus where we started.  Or I can spend more time on your amazing butt and provide some … different relaxation.”

My amazing butt?  Seriously?  This young built stud complimenting me went to my head; the little one.  My dick was painfully smooshed between me and the table but Al Junior’s growth was not to be stopped by physics.

“Do I get a vote?”  Kent asked.  Neither Greg nor I replied.  “Because I’m torn between watching you enjoy my husband’s front as much as you’ve enjoyed his back-side and watching you work-over his truly magnificent ass which you recognize as an option.”

Greg answered.  “So many options.  But Al’s injuries … “

“Hey now!” I protested hoarsely.  I was so relaxed my voice was sleepy.  I cleared my throat.  “You are the professional who told me I didn’t have any serious injuries.”

Greg rubbed my neck and immediately returned me to the place of relaxation.  “The pain you experience with upper body motion creates a perimeter around the possible activities.”

Kent softly said, “Al is pretty damn good at powering through pain for pleasure.”

My turn to snort.  “Yeah.  Have ya seen his dick?  Oh right you have.  Yeah think fisting but not with a hand.”

Greg chuckled.  “I’m here to ease your pain.  But I’m also gay and unavoidedly aroused by the tableau here.”

In my mind I thought, Tableau?  Perimeter?  Obviously no himbo our chiropractor.

“Obviously,” Kent chimed-in.

I grunted as I lifted my head enough to see the evidence of Greg’s arousal right there.  I winced as I brought my arm around and took Greg’s hard dick in my grasp.  I stroked him and heard him sigh; I couldn’t see his face to gauge the level of his enjoyment.

Kent got up off his chair and came to half behind Greg but against him.  His soft dick dwarfed Greg’s hard dick in my view.  One of Greg’s hands left my neck and stroked Kent’s length; the stroke ended with his hand gripping Kent’s mostly-soft shaft and Kent’s dick shiny from the cream.  “Man that stuff warms-up!” Kent exclaimed.

I wished Greg would move forward and stick that dick in my mouth.  I wished Kent would fuck Greg within an inch of his life.  I wished I wasn’t in pain from my core holding me up and my neck hyper-extended.

The latter broke through my arousal; I let go of Greg’s dick and settled back down on the table with my face again in the donut.  “My ass,” I said quietly.

I’d been completely cleaned-out when we went to bed the night before; I’d wanted desperately to get fucked but we were both tired and I knew that I’d be feeling the fall in the morning.  Kent loaded me up good as always and we slept well.  If and when Greg fingered my hole he’d find me still wet with my husband’s DNA.

Kent moved away; I saw his feet turn and go.  “Great choice hon!” he said enthusiastically.  I assumed he’d returned to the chair.

Greg wasted no time getting into his assignment.  He rubbed my glutes and crack, teased my hole and was two knuckles inside me without delay.  “Oh fuck that feels good,” I moaned.

Greg chuckled.  “Yes it does,” he said and twisted his finger inside me.  “So amazingly tight if THAT’s what you’re accustomed to.”

“Kegels,” I said mostly seriously.  “Otherwise I’d be prolapsed from that monster.”

“Should be a public service announcement,” he joked.

“Oh HE has done quite a bit of public service,” Kent joined in.

“Has he now?” Greg asked.  And then, “Wait which ‘he’ are we talking about now?”

“I can clarify,” I piped-up.  “Both of us have done our share of circulation.  But for the record, if I were a Susan B. Anthony dollar coin, he’d be a George Washington dollar bill.”

“Well … “ Kent brushed it off.  We all laughed.

“Ouch that still hurts when I laugh,” I moaned.

Putting his other hand flat on my back Greg said more softly, “Relax Al.  Enjoy the sensations.  We’ll all be quiet while you re-center.”  Such calming words yet as he said them he’d added his index finger to his middle finger inside me.  I moaned loud.  I was awash with familiar sensations yet usually those came with movement and effort and involvement on my part; now I was laying there prone.

Greg removed his hand from my back and gently began rubbing my hairy balls.  “Mmmmmmm,” I moaned.  The gentle brush of his fingers on my fur was both tantalizing and agonizing; I like my balls handled but the tease combined with the steady fingering inside my hole was enough for now.

OHYEAH!” I gasped when he crooked his fingers inside me and tapped my prostate lightly.  Another longer moan followed as he gently stroked that sensitive nub and I fought to stay still and not to buck back into his fingers.  Sensing my struggle Greg gripped my sac and gently but decisively pulled down effectively directing me to maintain the position.  “Oh hell yeah,” I spoke again.

My dick was raging and stretched down my thigh.  Greg’s grip on my balls now included massaging them which had me moaning constantly.  As he would change the pressure on my love nut I would yelp with pleasure amid the moaning.  Greg’s exposed knuckles were teasing the base of my dick but otherwise my rod was ignored.

Greg’s mastery of my hole and balls had me floating; like wafts of suddenly increased pleasure as he never brought me to the edge but continued to rub my prostate and balls and hole but often to knock inside me or press inside me harder to re-flood me with intensity.

“How are you feeling Al?” he asked unexpectedly in a very soft voice that rumbled due to his low natural pitch.

“To be candid I am torn between floating and wondering when someone is going to climb on and fuck the hell out of me.”

Kent snorted again.  “How is the latter different than any other day?” he posed rhetorically.

“To be candid,” Greg broke-in, “if Kent gives his permission and you would like that to be me … OH FUCK!”  I had clenched my hole tight on his fingers.

“I don’t want to move.  I want you to climb up here and to fuck me like this like you’re doing push-ups in my hole,” I directed him.

“Let me get a condom out of my car,” he said and gently slid his fingers out of me.

Kent spoke-up before Greg moved more than his fingers.   “We were just tested day before yesterday and results posted this morning.”  He hadn’t mentioned that he’d seen the results and obviously had logged into both of our accounts.  “We’re clean if you are; and if you fill my husband with your load then you can bend over the end of the table and eat it out of him while I fuck you afterward!”

“With THAT billy club?” Greg cried.  I didn’t know if he was serious or truly protesting.

“I promise I know how to use this and I’ll be gentle,” Kent offered.

Greg was deftly positioning himself over me having easily climbed onto the table with me.  “Oh don’t do that,” Greg told Kent and got a chuckle from him.  Answered!

My hole was creamy from his fingers and the massage cream.  I hadn’t thought about that when Kent suggested the felching.  Greg’s dick-head was hard but didn’t feel broad and blunt like Kent’s; more pointed and centered.  Greg pushed but his dick popped and slid off target and up along my crack.  Instinctively I began to move to push my ass up but Greg’s hands went to my waist to hold me in place; I relaxed and let him try again.

The next push stayed on target if a bit sideways-feeling; like he was slightly across my breach pushing at my rim but not directly into it.  I resisted moving to capture him and let him push to the point of near-discomfort and then he suddenly entered me with a pop and was sliding in.

“Mmmmmmph!” I groaned.

“Okay?” he asked close to my ear but with his back arched so we were in contact from his waist down.

“Fuck yea!  Just fuck me,” I said firmly.

He pushed deeper and his dick filled me strangely; I suddenly realized he had a pronounced curve to it that despite it being of unimpressive girth served to stretch me to accommodate that arc.  I clenched my muscles on him and it was his turn to cry-out.  “Fffffuuuck!” he spat.  “I think you just flattened my curve!”

Then my own hiss in response.  “FUCK!”  His head slammed into my prostate at a hard angle just as his pubes met my ass.  It was different than the way it felt when Kent’s huge dick impacted then rubbed on the thrust and rubbed then knocked my love nut; this was a jam and pressure until he pulled out.  Meanwhile his wild curve caused that dick of his to feel twice as thick as he reamed me.

I was all kinds of crazy; that width as a result of the curve scraped my chute good enough to make me pant and then that jam and pressure had me jolting and writhing.  Fortunately I was doing most of the writhing from the waist-down so my sore muscles weren’t in play; though from my fevered cries that might not have been obvious.

Greg was a quiet fucker; a lot of sucking of breath and long exhales but otherwise after his initial praise it was just pound away.  What seemed like forever as my arousal spiked over and over with each thrust but wasn’t building to a release.  I couldn’t stroke-off because my hard rod was trapped under me against the table.

The good news in retrospect was that Greg turned-out to be a quick climaxer; not premature but I’d bet the fucking lasted less than ten minutes and probably closer to five before he was sucking in loud breaths and then blasting me with his juice.  He remained propped on his hands beside my arms on the massage table’s edge until he finally said, “Goddamn!” amid his panting to catch his breath.

Yeah that was kind of my thought, but for a different reason.  When I bottom I’m not one of those all that matters is his pleasure from using me sort of bottoms.  I want my balls emptied too!

Kent was out of his chair and told Greg, “Pull out and let Al suck you clean before you eat your cum out of his hole.”

“I didn’t think you were serious before; I don’t usually … “ Greg began but Kent was having none of it.

“Your mouth is of no use to us except to eat my husband’s hole while I fuck your pretty ass.  So okay forget feeding Al your slimy cock, get yourself out and bent over the table with your face in his hole before you open that mouth again.”  Then I heard a loud SMACK and Greg jolted and yelped.  Kent had given him one on his ass apparently.

Greg got situated in short order to where my husband instructed; his torso between my spread feet in my prone position, his chin against my hard-on and balls draped over it, his breath on my clenched ring.  “Pass me that cream or are you a pain pig?” Kent asked him.  “Go on; start cleaning out the mess you made in my bitch’s cunt!”

“Not because I couldn’t take it with your spit and pre,” Greg growled as he took the jar of cream from beside my waist where he’d left it on the table and presumably passed it back to Kent.  Then he went full-force with his tongue in my hole; tongue-fucking, swishing it around, and slurping like he was doing sound-effects as a messy soup eater.

“Fuck yeah!” I encouraged him.  “Eat me until someone needs to fill me up again!”

“FUCK you taste good full of me,” Greg said when he took a moment.  He smacked his lips.  “Mmmmmmmmm good!  OHHOLYFUCKINSHIT that’s fuckin’ HUGE!” was his finish.

“Dude I don’t even have all of my head fully in; I thought you said you could take it.”

Greg was panting hard; I could feel his breaths and felt his body as his arms were over my thighs while he panted.  “I can take it fucker!” he snarled through his heavy breathing?  “You man enough to give it?”

Kent didn’t answer but there was a jolt on the table, a scream from Greg, then his face shoved into my ass which muffled the continued scream.  The table rocked and Kent was surely jamming him hard and deep.  “That manly enough for you?  Get back to work on my husband’s cunt and suck all your nasty spooge out of there so it’s fit for me next!

Greg was still yowling into my crack and hole but he was back at it with his tongue scooping in my hole and slurping.  The sensations were hot but not all that hot to me; knowing the stud chiropractor who’d fucked me was getting railed relentlessly was priceless.

“You’re going to feel how a REAL man fucks.  Then when I’ve dumped my first load in you I’ll show you how it feels to take a fuck from ANOTHER real man.”  Kent’s words were the cadence of the jolts of the table; I was blazing hot from his aggressive fucking of the guy eating my hole out but I suddenly wondered if the table could take three muscular men’s weight!

My mind started wandering to the 911 call.  “Three of us are all injured because the massage table collapsed under stress of a stud’s aggressive fucking.”

I started to giggle. Kent caught me. “He tickling you with his tongue?”

“Baby, just fuck this stud and get to my turn.  And no fucking pussying out and telling me you need time to recover; you committed and you’re fucking me while your dick is still slimy from him!” I goaded him.

“I’ll show you fucking pussying-out!” my husband roared.  The table rocked harder, Greg yelled louder after yanking up his head and before Kent shoved his face back into my hairy crack, and my buzz returned.  I’m a pushover for my very virile husband.

“Dude it’s like a fuckin’ log … “ he gasped and yowled, “up my hole!  You’re so fucking deep and stretching me like I’ve never … Aaaaghh!”

Yeah, I thought; you’ve never had that semi-circle of a cock of yours inside your hole like I have either.  Granted not as thick as Kent even twisted around like that inside me but yeah too bad you can’t take your own and see how that reams-out a hole!

Kent went on pile-driving our chiropractor and he kept yowling and spouting profanity.  In between his crying out and swearing he’d suck and lick my hole and slurp at it; loud!  Then he’s shouting again or groaning or growling.

“You fuckin’ want it don’t you?” Kent challenged him.  The sound of him grunting and the feel of Greg jolting with Kent’s brutal thrusts was nothing compared to Greg’s screams.  “Say it!  Tell me you want what you gave my husband!” Kent persisted.

“FUCK.  ME!”

“AND WHAT?” Kent shouted.  I was hard and dripping from his brutish dominance.

“Dump your seed in me!”

Kent laughed an evil laugh.  “Ask me nicely,” he chuckled while he maintained the slams into Greg’s poor unaccustomed hole.

“PLEEEEEEEEEEESE!” the chiro bitch boy begged loud enough to bring the neighborhood.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Kent groaned and the slamming waned in cadence and then stopped with one last one.  “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he sighed.

“FUCK DUDE!” Greg yelled.

Kent began laughing; sometimes after a hard fuck and a strong cum he does that.  If I didn’t admit I was a bit jealous that it wasn’t my hole that pushed him into that space I wouldn’t be honest.  “I’m the only one here with his hole dry,” Kent said and then laughed some more.

“Dude!  You throw a fuck like nobody I’ve ever been with.”  Greg rubbed my ass insistently.  “You’re one lucky guy if you get that, Al!”

“Every day!” I affirmed with a touch of possession in my tone.

Greg squeezed my butt-cheeks and licked at my hole; he had to push hard to get past my clamped-shut ring again.  “Damn bro,” he said slurping up some more of his seed after he withdrew.  “Your hole is a damn vice.  Mine is gonna be flappin’ in the wind when he pulls out.”

I was still feeling the need to emphasize possession.  “I remember the first time with my husband.  With Kent six years and I showed him how that bat he’s got swinging between his legs deserved to be treated every damn day?  Yeah, I get it  Greg.”

“EXCUSE ME!” Kent stopped me.  “I SAID my hole is the only dry hole.  Since when did you miss a cue to fuck your husband Al?”

“OH!”  I realized I had missed it.  “I was still on him fucking me after he fucked our guest.

It wasn’t as painful as I’d felt earlier to move my upper body and get out from Greg’s grip on my ass.  “You just stay there bud,” Kent told him.  “I’ll be your human butt plug.”  He laughed and Greg tentatively okayed.  “Are you okay to stand and doggy-fuck me hon?” Kent asked gently as I slowly got myself standing.  My dick waved proudly; Kent looked down and grinned.  “God I love that cock of yours; you’re such a hot mother-fucking stud!”

If I was in pain it was pushed out of my mind by the praise from my virile handsome husband.  Kent grabbed and took a grip on my balls and cock-root and pulled me toward him until his lips devoured mine as o made my way carefully.

Somewhere lost in the bliss of the kiss I heard Greg still bent over the end of his table with Kent in him to his balls.  “Do you EVER go soft?”

I laughed against Kent’s lips and he nipped my tongue with his teeth.  “Fuck me babe,” he begged.

I got behind him and he bent forward and crossed his arms resting them on Greg’s upper back.  I rubbed my dripping dick-head around Kent’s tight opening and he pushed back.  My pre-jizz production was on HIGH; the slime eased the way as I entered him.

“OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH YEAH,” my husband moaned as I went deeper and deeper.

“Fuck that’s hot.  You’re pushing him back inside me,” Greg groaned.  Oh yeah; he’s still here with us, I thought.

“This what you wanted lover?” I teased Kent now all the way in and grinding the way I know puts pressure on his love nut.

“Always!” he gasped.  “Fuck me with your big cock Al.  Do me babe!”

I began pumping him in slow long strokes and Kent moaned appreciatively.  “Oh god yeah; nothing like the feel of you inside me.  FUCK yeah!” he cried when I hit that spot dead-on.

“Fuck you’re throbbing inside me!” Greg moaned.

“Feels so good,” I told Kent while I tried to stop my already-building orgasm.

I’d been so over-stimulated and under-released that I was feeling like I was racing toward the finish line.  Kent working my cock like a fucking milking machine didn’t help with my effort to prolong my fuck.  Not a single thought in my head of pain other than when he squeezed my rod and I was pulling or pushing and felt my skin against the friction.

“Fill me up, Al.  I need it stud.  I want you in me all day!”

“Fuck that’s hot, Greg said from his position of chest-mat and dick-sleeve for Kent.

I fucked harder because it didn’t matter now; my husband’s wish was my command and my balls were through being denied.  I nailed that spot and enjoyed Kent’s breathing ragged and his sometimes loud sometimes soft yells when I did.  I could feel his muscles beginning to go tense and just hoped I could last until I pushed him over the edge.

Kent nudged back into every thrust.  “Yeah just like that,” he hissed when I went from thrusts to jabs that nailed that target over and over.  “Oh fuck babe don’t stop.  Fuck me mister!”

“Oh YEAH,” Greg cried and I was reminded again of his presence.

I was also reminded that Kent took some time to get there from prostate battering alone; I concentrated on holding out for five more jab-thrusts before I went off.  When I’d get through three I’d concentrate on five more.  I managed that for five cycles before I couldn’t any more.

Kent’s body was taut and his breathing was in shallow short gasps.  “FUCKYEAH! OH FUCKYEAH I’M THERE.  YESSSSSSSS!” he cried.  He reached back with both arms and grabbed my butt-cheeks and pulled me tight inside him; he held me that way.

I broke at that moment.  “FUCKIN’ TAKE IT!” I shouted with my dick planted inside him.  I felt the molten flow rush through my tube and that familiar rhythmic spasming at the base of my dick.

“THAT’S IT!” Kent cried.

I pumped and pumped.  My husband moaned and then began laughing again but deeper this time.  Somewhere in the moments of skyrocketing through our releases Greg had cried-out that Kent was pumping inside him.  I leaned down and kissed the hard muscle of rhomboids between Kent’s shoulder blades and rubbed my cheek against his vast right trap and delt and kissed him there too.

Kent cooed.  “Mmmmmmm.  Yeah hon.”

I gently began the long pull to withdraw; when my fattened dick-head was stretching his ring he clenched and squeegeed me through and clamped shut.  The only cum that escaped was a drop that came from my slit.  “Mmmmm I’m keeping you in me all day!” Kent said.

Kent raised up and the angle of his still-hard dick caused Greg to groan.  He began to back out of our chiropractor’s hole and Greg groaned louder; I didn’t know if it was the sensation of Kent’s monster dick reaming his sore hole or regret.  Then when he pulled his head free Greg cried, “Awwww FUCK!”  A gush of spooge flowed out of him and ran down his balls and splatted on the floor between his feet.

Kent laughed heartily.  “Look what you made me do to him.”  Again I was uncertain; this time of Kent’s.  The drippage?  The huge volume of cum he’d shot?  The first one was on him! I thought with a laugh. “That hole’s not closing-up!  If we needed an extra parking space we could use that!!!  Hahahahahahaha”

Then Kent SMACKED Greg’s left bubble butt-cheek so hard it sounded like a firecracker.  Greg yelped and jumped up off the table and looked pissed.  Kent clapped his big hand on Greg’s muscled shoulder.  “You did damn good!”

Greg’s facial grimness broke into a smile and then morphed into a smirk.  “I’ve NEVER taken a rod as big as yours!” he said with a note of pride.

“Yeah.  The sound of the air con whistling in that gaping maw … “

Greg whirled around and bent with his hole toward us.  “It’s not THAT loose!” he protested and wiggled his very beautiful butt at us.

The gape was still evident.  So was Kent’s cum still running out; now down the inside of his thickly muscles thighs as well as off his smooth shiny balls.  Kent made a so-so kinda sound and we all laughed.  “I’d offer you a mirror to look for yourself but we don’t have a wide-angle one.”  We laughed again.

“While you’re bent over … “ I began.

Greg straightened and whirled around.  “Oh HELL no!  This hole will need weeks to recover!”

“Uh well exaggeration aside mister drama hole; I was going to grab you a towel to wipe-up.  I’m not certain even your expert relaxation of my sore muscles would be enough for me to get down there.”

“OH,” Kent spoke-up.  “I thought you were going to have him suck us clean!”

Greg was on his knees in a flash and knee-waking toward Kent’s half-hard dick.  Of course his first! I thought and chuckled.

“Go ‘head laugh at me.  I’m a typical vers guy who’s been turned by a huge cock.”  He swallowed Kent with a loud gulp.

“FUCK!” Kent exclaimed.  “He’s got a mouth on him!”

Greg worked Kent over good; head, all over the long thick shaft, balls.  Slurps all around.  Then for good measure he reached back and came back with his index and middle finger gooey and slurped Kent’s cum off them.  “SO GOOD!”

Greg went after me next.  I didn’t need as much; Kent had squeezed his tight ring as I exited and most of my output was inside him.  I was also fully soft by that point: though that began changing when Kent leaned in and kissed me deeply while Greg sucked.  Greg continued “working” then stopped, hefted my semi and looked up at me.  “Man you have a beautiful cock.  Big and heavy … but not scary!”  He threw a look at Kent’s.  Then he gave me some more “cleaning” and got to his feet.

Very seriously he faced me.  He reached around and put his warm hand on the small of my back.  “How are you feeling Al?”

“You did amazing things,” I told him without intending the double meaning.  But he was all business.  “Relaxation is important.”  Greg turned and pointed through the French doors to our outside jacuzzi.  “Use that.  Be careful and slow with the movements getting in and take it for as long as you can.  I didn’t feel any inflammation so I’m not going to recommend alternating hot and cold; just the heat.”

“You may have to come back for follow-up ‘treatments’,” Kent said smirking.

Greg looked very serious.  “I want to be clear here.  The rub was treatment.  The rest was purely recreation between consenting adults.”

“I know I’m old enough to be your father, but do I look like a judge or something?”

“An incredibly HOT daddy!” Greg told me.  I felt myself flush.

“Greg we get it.  And no worries from us at all.  We appreciate the ‘therapy’ and enjoyed that you responded to our initiation of play.”  My husband the ex-sex-worker; air quotes and all.

“Yeah thanks studs.  I just don’t need any complaints against my license ya know?”

“With skills like yours I can’t imagine a complaint,” I cracked.

Kent spoke-up with an ominous tone.  “Well I could think of one.”  Greg looked at him very seriously with great interest.  “If a hung guy like say ME enjoyed your TIGHT cunt like I did and wanted seconds.  I didn’t but you thought we did and said, ‘No fucking way!’  What happened to the customer is always right?”

EPILOGUE:

I awoke Sunday feeling … much the same as Saturday morning; I moved with many sound effects in reaction to my discomfort.  Strange thing though: by the time I was standing and taking care of my morning piss I was feeing better.

I went back into our bedroom and Kent was pulling the sheet away; his enormous morning wood sprang skyward.  “Too bad you … “

I didn’t let him finish.  I got on him and rubbed my crack on his hardness.  “Soreness about twenty-five percent of what it was yesterday,” I said grinning down at him.

“Thats cuz I haven’t used that hole of yours yet.”

When we were done and he’d returned from his post-fuck piss and flopped down on his back next to me he picked-up his phone.  “Scouting the next hole?” I teased him.

“Not intentionally,” he answered me.  “I’m sending Greg a text thanking him.”