Murder in Wichita

Lance pulled his Miata into the parking space and looked up at the sky. Shit. It looked like more fucking rain was on the way. He wondered whether the game would be called because of the weather. The last time he had been at Lawrence Stadium with Jeff, almost a month ago, they had sat in a downpour for thirty minutes before the announcement had finally been made of the game being postponed. He definitely didn't feel like getting totally soaked again.

He put the top up on his car, locked it with his remote, and walked toward the area where several hundred people were standing in line to buy their tickets. Seeing his college roommate at the edge of the crowd, he walked up to him, and they gave each other a fist bump. "Dude, how ya been, man? It's been a while," Jeff said.

"Been busy as fuck, dude. How about you?"

"No complaints. The job is going good, and Liz has finally started her new job, so now she's got something to occupy her time. At least now she doesn't have to spend all her time bitching about me."

"That shit's really fucked up."

"You know, she's always gotten depressed easily whenever she's not busy with something. It's sure as hell rough on a marriage."

"Well, dude, if you remember, I told you that before you ever married the goddam bitch."

"Yeah, I know. I always end up regretting it whenever I let my dick make my decisions for me."

"Fuck, dude, you should let MY dick make your decisions for you."

"Now that would really be some fucked up shit. Anyway, at least she agreed to let me come tonight. I sure hope we get better weather than last time. It's not looking too promising, though."

"Yeah, your jeans were so fucking wet that night, it looked like you power pissed them."

"Dude, you're the one into piss, not me. Besides, your jeans were as wet as mine, if you remember."

By this time, the line they were standing in had advanced to the point where they were next in line to enter the ballpark. Lance pulled his wallet out of his jeans, and taking the two season passes from his wallet, he showed them to the attendant, who smiled at him and waved the two men in. The senior partners of his accounting firm were friends of the team's owner, and season tickets for box seats at the ballpark were one of the perks of working there. Of course, a losing stretch like the one the Wingnuts were playing right now didn't really help much, but still, just going to the ballpark was usually an enjoyable experience for him, an easy way to relax. He especially liked the feel and character of the stadium, which was one of the oldest in the country, originally built in the 1930s by the WPA. It was in the art deco style of the decade, and had a New Deal optimistic vibe. It also offered a great view of the downtown skyline on the other side of the Arkansas River, at least as much of a skyline as a city like Wichita could offer. Lance had a lot of happy memories of coming here on summer evenings with his dad when he was growing up. The fifty-mile drive on Highway 54 had been long, but the extra time spent alone with his father had always been enjoyable, away from the feminine side of the family. At that time, the Wichita Wranglers had played there, before they had moved to the Ozarks in Arkansas and been replaced by the Wingnuts.

Lance and Jeff followed the crowd into the grandstand and found their seats, just to the right of the center box seats. They watched the team players warming up on the field, as well as the many different groups of people coming into the grandstand. Several Little League teams passed in front of them on their way to their seats on the benches to their right and left. Attendance tonight looked to be pretty decent, compared to the last couple of games Lance had gone to. The two men spoke occasionally, but mostly just sat in an easy silence while they waited for the game to start. They had shared a dorm room in Fairmount Towers their last two years of college at Wichita State and had gotten to know each other pretty well during that time. They seemed to instinctively understand each other, without needing to have a lot of unnecessary chit-chat to cover up any awkward silence between them. Both of them had fairly easy-going personalities and were always ready to share what they had with each other. They had even shared a few bitches during their college years.

"So did you ever make reservations for that gay resort you were talking about last time? Where is it, Providence?"

"Provincetown, you shit head. It's a town in Massachusetts. On Cape Cod."

"Whatever. Did you make the reservations?"

"No, I had to fix my basement. That cost me a couple thousand."

"I didn't think anything came before taking care of your dick and your asshole."

"Well, if my goddam kitchen had fallen into my basement, my dick and my asshole wouldn't have been in the mood to fuck anyway."

"Maybe you could still go this fall. They probably have good rates during the cooler months. You said it was kind of expensive."

"The hotel closes the first of November. I wouldn't be able to go before then, since a lot of our clients have fiscal years that end on September 30, and then we run like fuck for the next three months finishing up the financial reports. The resort stays closed until May, so that would be the earliest I could go next year."

"That's the place that has the nude beach, right?"

"I heard it's not official, but the cops won't do anything if you go nude, even with a hard-on. Shit, I even heard some dudes fuck right out in the open without any problem from the cops. That's kind of hard to believe. At least, for an innocent Kansas boy like me."

"Innocent my ass. You remember that bitch we fucked the week before graduation?"

"The one with the fake tits?"

"That bitch was practically begging to get fucked by us in the hallway so people could watch."

"Too bad we didn't have a camcorder with us. That cunt was pretty goddam hot."

By this time, the game was starting. The Sioux City Explorers took an early lead in the first inning. A few rumbles of thunder could be heard from off in the distance, and Lance noticed Jeff looking anxiously at the sky.

"You know, Liz really gets kind of panicky when it storms. Maybe this was a mistake, my coming tonight."

"Dude, you've gotta be shitting me. What is she, a fucking dog, scared of thunder?"

"Maybe I should call her."

"Well, you can if you want. It's your life. I sure as hell wouldn't. But you ARE the responsible one of us, so I'm not surprised."

"You're the one who won't go on vacation just because it costs too much. Hell, you even let your basement determine your vacation plans."

"Fuck off, asshole."

"That's what you should be doing, dude. Go get yourself an asshole to fuck. Instead you're all worried and shit about that goddam house of yours and how much it's costing you. You seriously need to get laid."

"Dude, I get laid all the time. My house doesn't control my dick." If he had only seen me a few hours ago, with my cock up the pussy and asshole of a black bitch with awesome tits.

"A dude like you should be enjoying life. Hell, you just turned twenty-four a few months ago. If you don't watch it, you're going to go prematurely gray."

"So says the guy who wants to call his wife because she's afraid of some fucking thunder."

"I guess I'll wait."

By the time the second inning had ended, the score was still 0-1, and the dark clouds rolling in from the west were coming closer.

"Fuck it, Lance. I need to go home and make sure Liz is OK."

"OK, dude. Whatever. No problem. I know I can be a prick sometimes about the shit you have to put up with. Don't pay any attention to me when I'm like that."

"I'm real sorry about this."

"Don't be. You should do what you think is right for you."

"Thanks, man. I knew you would understand how it is. I'll email you. Maybe we can try this again."

"Sure. Keep it hard, dude."

A few minutes after Jeff had left, Lance decided to get a beer, so he got out of his seat and went down to the concession stand, where there was a double line. He waited his turn, ordered his beer, and paid for it after showing his ID. Taking the large plastic container, he turned around and saw someone familiar in the line.

Holy fucking shit. Just what the hell were the chances of meeting someone accidentally, only a few hours after fucking his wife?

"Hi, Eric."

"Oh, hi, Lance."

"Looks like a shitty night for the game."

"Yeah, they're not playing too good, either."

"You come here often?"

"Every once in a while. Sammy was supposed to come with me tonight, but she said she was tired when she came home this afternoon."

No shit. I wonder why?

"Well, I'll be seeing you around, dude." If anything, Eric was even hotter than he was last night in his tight jeans and wet tee-shirt. Lance's cock started twitching in his jeans. Yeah, jerking off to a mental image of Eric could definitely become a habit for him.

"OK. See ya later."

Lance went back to his seat, and about five minutes later, he saw Eric coming up the stairs next to his box seats, on his way to the cheap seats up above.

"Dude, why don't you sit here with me?" he called to Eric.

"Uh, OK, sure. That would be great. Thanks, man."

"My college roomy had to leave. His bitch of a wife has him on a short leash."

"I know the feeling." Eric took a swallow of his Pepsi. He scowled.

"What's the matter, dude?"

Eric hesitated a few seconds, then said, "I'm fucked."

"Like how?"

"You saw last night what a shithole I'm in. I doubt there's any way I can ever get out."

"Dude, you're finances aren't totally hopeless. I've seen people in a lot worse shape than you. Give yourself some time."

"It's not really that."

"So, I'm guessing you're maybe talking about your marriage?"

"Yeah."

"So why did you marry the bitch?"

"You already know. She got pregnant."

"Dude, there's this really cool shit called an abortion."

"Have you ever been to one? A clinic, I mean."

"Shit, I got a volume discount card at Planned Parenthood. I paid for three last year alone."

"I wanted her to get one, but she wouldn't agree. In the end, it's her body, and her decision. She kept on saying she couldn't kill her baby."

"That's fucking bullshit, and we both know it."

"It's against her religion."

"Fuck her goddam religion."

"It's not that simple."

"Dude, I one time had a bitch tell me she couldn't get an abortion because of her religion. I told her she either got one or I'd make goddam sure she had one hell of a miscarriage."

"What did she do?"

"She cried around a lot, but I still took her to the clinic and paid for the fucking abortion."

"What happened then?"

"I took her home, and she never talked to me again. And I definitely didn't give a shit. The last thing I wanted around was a cunt throwing goddam Bible verses at me all the time. Besides, she was a lousy fuck anyway."

"You sound like a badass mutherfucker."

"You're goddam right I am. And the number one rule of this badass mutherfucker is 'Never fuck a goddam pro-lifer.'"

Eric laughed. "I wish I had thought of that when I was horny for some black pussy."

"What attracted you to black pussy?"

"Hell, I don't know. I guess I thought it would be, well, exotic, sort of."

"Was it?"

"Not really. Not any different than any other pussy I ever had. Have you ever fucked a black bitch?"

Not before today. No reason to go into any details, though.

"Hell, yeah. You're right, though. No real difference. A cunt is a cunt."

"Dude, talking this kind of shit is making me horny. Maybe I should just go out and find a bitch to fuck before I go home."

"I'll tell you what, dude. Why don't you come over to my place? We can watch some porn, rub one out, and then you can go home to your bitch of a wife. That way you can stay out of trouble, and it won't cost you anything."

"Yeah, you're probably right about that. I don't need any more problems."

"Where are you parked?"

"In C."

"I'm in B. Let's get the fuck out of here. You can follow me home."

"OK, let's do it."

The two men got up from their seats and walked down the ramp to the exit, then separated to go to their cars. Lance got into his Miata and drove over to Parking Lot B, where he saw Eric in his red Mustang. With Eric following him, he turned right onto Sycamore, drove two blocks to the roundabout with the brick clock tower in the center, and turned onto Douglas. Crossing the bridge over the Arkansas River, he drove past Century II, through the downtown business district, and continued driving past the Old Town district of bars and clubs which he visited regularly and where he met the bitches and dudes he hooked up with. Driving under I-135, he passed East High and continued on for two more blocks, before turning right onto South Green. A block and a half later, he turned into his driveway, pulling far enough ahead so Eric could park in the driveway rather than on the street.

Getting out of his car, he saw Ellen and Sharon sitting on their front porch next door. They waved to him, and he waved back.

Seeing Eric get out of his car, Ellen called over. "Lance, I have to say, the more boyfriends you bring home to fuck, the better looking they get. This one is even cuter than the one last week, and Sharon and I both thought he was to die for."

Seeing Eric's eyes pop out of his head, Lance laughed. "You fucking little bitch, you've been spying on me again."

"You give us so much to watch and drool over. Will you let us watch you make out with this little cutey?"

"Ellen, shut your dirty mouth," Sharon growled at her housemate. "You're embarrassing the poor kid."

That was an understatement. Eric had never heard a woman the age of his grandmother use the word "fuck" before. And was Lance really gay? He wouldn't have guessed that in a million years.

"Lance, I just got a new camera yesterday from QVC. You know, I just love that channel, they have so many nice things for sale. Sharon's always bitching that I spend too much money with them. Anyway, can I take your picture with your new boyfriend?"

By this time, Lance was standing next to Eric. "Just go along," he said quietly. "Let her think we're going inside to fuck, and she'll take our picture and let us go. Otherwise, we'll be out here for an hour trying to convince her we're not a couple, and she'll never give up."

Eric looked uncertainly at him. This was some seriously fucked up shit.

"OK Ellen, hurry up and take the goddam picture. I've got my big dick hard and it's wanting to get inside Eric's tight asshole. And you know my cock doesn't like waiting." He put his right arm around Eric's shoulder, letting his hand brush against Eric's nipple through his tee-shirt.

Pointing the camera at them, Ellen giggled. "From what I've heard about you, Lance dear, it's your asshole that's going to be having a visitor. I hope you have plenty of lube left over from your last fuck. It looks to me like your new boyfriend has a big cock."

"You mean this mutherfucker?" Lance reached with his left hand and grabbed Eric's cock through his jeans just as Ellen took the picture.

Eric couldn't fucking believe a dude was grabbing his cock. His mouth, which had been smiling for the picture, dropped open in shock the second after the picture had been taken.

"Perfect!!" Ellen squealed gleefully.

"Oh, pipe down, you old bitch," Sharon groaned from the porch. "Let those boys go and have their fun. You really need to grow up, woman."

Lance grinned at Eric and winked, letting go of his cock. "Come on," he whispered, and holding Eric's hand, led him up to his front porch. Unlocking the door, he called over, "By the way, Ellen, just because I'm a goddam expert at taking a cock up my ass doesn't mean I don't give as good as I get. I am totally versatile, you know."

"I'm sure you are, you horny little boy," she called back, while Sharon groaned again.

Inside the house at last, Eric looked carefully at Lance, who wore a big shit-eating grin.

"Fuck, dude, are you gay?"

"Does it matter to you?"

"I don't know. I'm just surprised, that's all. I mean, you were talking about pussy and shit at the ballpark."

"You don't think a gay dude should be allowed to talk about fucking pussy?"

"I'm not talking about not allowing anything. It's just ... "

"You want a beer?"

"What?"

"You want a fucking beer?"

"I'm only twenty."

"So?"

"It's not legal for me to drink."

"That sure as hell never stopped me when I was twenty. Or fourteen, for that matter."

"OK, sure, I'll have a beer."

Lance walked into the kitchen and pulled two bottles of Bud Light out of the refrigerator. Twisting the top off, he handed one to Eric, who by now was looking at the painting hanging above the small dining room table.

"That's you, isn't it?"

"Actually, no, it just looks a hell of a lot like me. I bought it online. There's a dude in Massachusetts who paints real well, his name is Michael Breyette. He painted this one a few years ago, and I saw it on his website and liked it. The name of the painting is "Poster Boy." I think it's pretty fucking cool that the dude in it looks a lot like me."

"A lot? He looks exactly like you." He looked at it closer. The painting was of a shirtless man wearing faded jeans, holding a sign which said "Equality" at what was obviously a gay pride parade in DC, with the Washington Monument in the background.

"Dude, you really are gay, aren't you?"

"Why the fuck does it bother you that much?"

"It doesn't bother me, it just ... "

"What?"

"It just surprises me. I wouldn't have ever guessed."

"Well, just for the record, I'm actually bi."

"So you're gay, but you just won't admit it."

"Hell, no. I fuck pussy all the time."

Shit, I just fucked your wife this afternoon.

"And you suck cock as well?"

"Yeah."

"And take it up the ass?"

"Right again."

"That's fucked up."

"Well, you can think that if you want. It's who the fuck I am. So, you want some weed?" Lance put down his beer bottle and reached into one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out two joints and a lighter. He handed one to Eric, lit his own, and gave the lighter to Eric. The two men sat down at the dining table and inhaled the weed, letting it work its fucking magic. Before long, they both had a good buzz.

"You know, for a dude who was so worried a little while ago about underage drinking, you sure as hell are liking this shit. You do know we're in Kansas and not Colorado, don't you?"

"You want to suck me off, don't you?"

"What?"

"You said you like sucking cock. I think you want to suck my cock."

"Eric, you're wasted as fuck. Just because I like sucking cock doesn't mean I'm gonna suck off every dude I meet."

"Why not? I can get my cock hard, even when I'm high."

"Dude, believe me, if I wanted to, I could get your cock hard without you even trying. I just don't want to suck you off and then have you pissed at me once you're no longer high."

"Who said I'd be pissed at you?"

"You would, believe me. You would think I took unfair advantage of you while you're high."

"You're a badass mutherfucker."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a badass mutherfucker who doesn't want you to feel any regrets tomorrow. I like you too much to want you pissed at me."

"Would you suck me off if I wasn't high anymore?"

"Maybe, if you really wanted me to. But I don't think you would."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not gay."

"How do you know?"

"Dude, you freaked out when I grabbed your cock when Ellen was taking our picture."

"I was just surprised, that's all. I wasn't expecting it."

"So you liked it when I grabbed your cock?"

"Well, I didn't NOT like it."

"Do you think you would like a dude sucking you off?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Did you ever think about maybe you were gay before?"

"I don't think so. Not that I can remember."

"But you want a dude's mouth around your cock."

"Yeah, I kind of do. Does that make me gay?"

"No, that doesn't make you gay, it makes you normal. Straight dudes like a good blowjob as much as gay dudes. And everyone knows dudes give better head."

"You're confusing me. You tell me getting head from a guy is normal, and then you ask me if I'm gay since I want to get head from a guy. You're not being fair."

"Welcome to the real fucking world. Actually, what I mean is that wanting to get good head is normal, for both gay and straight guys. The smart ones know where to go for the good shit. Kind of like this weed. I could have bought some five-dollar shit in the parking lot at Dillon's supermarket, but that would be like getting head from a bitch who doesn't know her asshole from her tits. She can suck you off for five minutes, and you might even shoot your load, but your dick will be too raw to fuck anything for the next week. But I spend a few extra bucks and get some good shit like this from the dude at the Y, and it's like getting blown by a goddam porn star who makes his living by fucking and knows what the hell he's doing."

"I don't want to go home tonight."

"Why is that?"

"Sammy always gets pissed when I get high."

"Well, she'll definitely be pissed then."

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"You probably have to. I doubt either one of us should drive a car. I'm pretty fucking wasted myself. I don't need to have an accident."

"If I stay here tonight, you could suck me off tomorrow when I'm not high."

"Goddammit, will you stop with that shit already?"

"I'm really horny. Where's your porn at?"

"I got a shitload of DVDs on the shelf under the TV. Go ahead and pick something."

Eric pulled himself up off the chair and wandered over to the collection of porn. Looking through it, he stopped every once in a while to examine a title closer. After a while, he finally chose one. "This one looks good. I've never seen it." He handed it to Lance.

"Big Titty Lesbians? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What's wrong with this one?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. With the conversation we've just been having, I just figured you might want to see some gay porn."

"Not really. I like lezzie porn."

"I'll tell you what, I got a video from Kink called 'The Training of O.' Some real fucked up shit where a dude gets inside a bitch's head and slaps her around. Kind of like a one-man gangbang."

"That would be good, too."

"You know, before we start watching this shit, I think you ought to call your wife."

"Why? Do you want me to tell her I'm watching porn with a dude?"

"No, just tell her you're going to stay overnight with a friend because you're wasted. You don't have to tell her where you are."

"Fuck the bitch. I'm not telling her shit."

"I really think you should. Make it short, tell her, and then hang up."

"OK, if you're gonna be a dick about it."

Eric got his cell phone out of his jeans and punched in the number, and waited. He let it ring several times before hanging up.

"No answer."

"Maybe she went out with some friends."

"She told me she didn't want to go to the ballgame because she was tired."

"Try calling her again. Maybe she's asleep."

Eric punched the numbers into his phone again, and Lance heard the sound of the phone ringing on the other end.

"Still no answer." Eric heard the phone go to voice mail. "Sammy, answer the goddam phone." He waited. Nothing.

"Sammy, I'm at a friend's house, and we're both wasted, and I'm staying here tonight. Since you won't get off your ass and answer the phone, well ... just, fuck off."

"Well, you did your part. You tried calling twice, and you left a message on her voice mail. She can't say you didn't try."

"Like I said, fuck the bitch."

Lance pointed the remote at the DVD player and pressed the play button. The familiar San Francisco armory and the Kink.com logo appeared on the screen, and a long introduction to the scene began, with the narrator telling how he is training his bitch slave. Appearing on the screen, a curvy blond wearing a black rubber catsuit began talking to the camera.

"Goddam, she's fucking hot."

"If you think she's hot, you should see the dude who fucks her. He wears black leather pants most of the time."

"What's so hot about that?"

"I get hard just thinking about leather. When I wear my leather pants to a club I can't keep from having a hard-on the whole goddam time, even when I'm dancing."

"You really are a horny mutherfucker, aren't you?"

"Hell, yeah. You want another beer?"

"Sure."

Lance got up and went into the kitchen, grabbed two more bottles from the refrigerator, and tossed one to Eric. Sitting back down on the couch next to Eric, he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and pulled his rapidly-hardening cock out.

Holy shit. Eric had never in his life watched a dude jerk off. Sure, he had laughed and joked in the high school locker room, listening to the guys talk about banging their hoes, and he had even shared a few of his own stories, embellishing them just a bit to make himself sound hotter in bed than he really was. But to actually watch a dude just whip his dick out and start jerking ... holy FUCKING shit.

Lance looked over at Eric and grinned. "Go ahead and get your dick out of your jeans. This shit's just starting." He looked intently at the TV screen, where the trainer was pounding his dick into his slave bitch's pussy. Eric hesitated for a few seconds, then ...

Oh well, what the fuck.

He unzipped his jeans and reached inside his underwear. He had noticed that Lance had pulled his cock out of bright lemon yellow 2(x)ist fashion trunks, and he was more than a little embarrassed at his own distinctly unfashionable plain white Hanes.

"Goddam, dude, you got an awesome cock. How big does that shit get when you're hard?"

Eric definitely wasn't used to dudes commenting on his dick, and he started to blush. This was more than just a little weird. Definitely not what he had expected when he had left home to go to the ball game.

"Um, I don't know. I've never measured."

"Seriously? Your shit must get at least seven and a half, eight inches by the time you're fully hard."

"Maybe, I guess. I mean, I've never had any complaints."

"Your wife is one lucky bitch to have a cock like that plowing her shit."

Of course, I just fucked her this afternoon, too. So she's extra lucky.

"I think you must be bigger than me." Eric couldn't believe he had just said that. He was talking with a dude about the size of their dicks. How gay can you get? What was even worse, he was really admiring the totally shaved cock and balls on the dude next to him. He had never considered shaving his own bush, but now? ...

"Dude, I've definitely never had any complaints. From either cunts or dudes."

"This is really making me hard." Eric thought, oh shit, did I really just say that?

"Shit, I'm so goddam horny now." Lance pulled his tee-shirt up and over his head, leaving it around his back and shoulders in classic gay porn star style. Eric found himself staring at the perfectly sculpted pecs in front of him, smoothly shaved and gleaming with sweat. He saw that Lance had turned his full attention to the TV screen where the slave master was beating the shit out of his bitch slave with a whip, leaving bright red marks on her ass. Lance was slowly stroking up and down on his cock, which was by now standing at rigid attention. Obviously he was enjoying the show, and Eric got the distinct impression he was also enjoying giving a show of his own to a still slightly-shocked straight white boy who before now had never imagined he would be in the position of watching a dude jerk off. And liking it.

Really fucking liking it.

"Fuck. Would you look at that shit?" Lance was continuing to focus on the TV screen, where the slave master, his legs clad in black leather, was eating out the asshole of his slave bitch. Eric watched intently. Asses had never really interested him much. He had pounded a few in high school, but most girls didn't much like it, and his wife had complained that he obviously didn't know what the hell he was doing the one time he had tried anal with her. The dude on the TV screen obviously did know what the hell he was doing, though. Holy. Fucking. Shit. His cock was really hard now. He started stroking it more rapidly, watching the unbelievably hot scene in front of him.

"You're really getting into this shit, aren't you, dude?"

"Uh, yeah. It's pretty hot. Some of the hottest porn I've ever seen, in fact."

"Kink makes some good shit. Their gay porn is really fucking hot, too. I like their bondage shit. Maybe you might want to watch some of that later on."

"Um, maybe."

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'm getting close to cumming."

"Yeah, me too." Eric couldn't believe how easily Lance was able to swear. With some guys, it just sounded totally natural. If Eric had tried to do it, he would have sounded like an absolute idiot. But the dirty talk was really turning him on. He closed his eyes and started stroking rapidly. Shit, he was getting REAL close. Oh, fuck, here it comes ...

Oh. My. Fucking. God. He opened his eyes quickly as he felt his hand being jerked away from his dick, just as he felt his cum starting to shoot up from his balls, and being replaced with the awesome damp warmth of a mouth taking the entire length of his hard cock inside of it. As he felt his seed shooting out of his piss slit into the mouth of the dude who until a minute ago he had been watching jerk himself off, it occurred to him, ...

"WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE!!!"

Eric felt his cum continuing to shoot out of his cock for several more spurts, and he watched in amazement as Lance kept his mouth closed tightly around his pulsating dick. Right then, he noticed thick white ropes of cum shooting out of the purple mushroom head of Lance's own hard-on, onto the leather seat of the couch they were sitting on. Trying to process what had just happened was literally blowing his fucking mind, and he sat there in shocked silence while Lance continued to suck on his dick, which seemingly was not getting any softer, despite the huge load he had just shot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Lance's mouth released his cock, and with what had to be the biggest shit-eating grin Eric had ever seen on a dude, he brought his face next to Eric's, and closed his mouth over the mouth of a dude who had just gotten the shock of his life and was loving every goddam second of it. Eric suddenly felt something flowing from Lance's mouth into his own, and it took a couple of seconds for him to realize what it was. It wasn't just Lance's spit, even though the thought of that, for some strange reason, was actually kind of appealing. Eric recognized the taste. It was his own cum. He had gotten in the habit of eating his cum in high school when he jerked off at night before going to bed. And now Lance was swapping his cum with him. How fucking hot was that? Could anything be better than this hot mouth over his, feeding him the seed which had just shot out of his piss slit into Lance's mouth?

Well, yes, there was. Before he knew what was happening, Lance had scooped up his own cum, which was lying in puddles on the leather seat, and was pushing his fingers inside Eric's mouth. Eric, his mind totally blown away by this point, was simply going along with just about anything Lance wanted to do. After feeding Eric several finger loads of fuck juice, Lance again brought his grinning mouth to Eric's and stuck his tongue inside. This time it was Lance's hot seed they were swapping, mixed together with the leftovers of Eric's cum.

"Goddam, that was hot, dude."

"Yeah." Eric felt like a fucking idiot, unable to say more than one word.

"Did you like it?"

"Oh, yeah. Oh, YEAH. Oh, FUCK YEAH!!!" Now it was Eric's turn to grin. Yeah, FUCK YEAH, he had the biggest shit-eating grin. He couldn't stop grinning.

"FUCK! FUCK YEAH!!!"