A CrossFit HookUp For The Marine And The Judge

I should preface this by reiterating a general guideline (my husband the Judge’s term) – we usually don’t play with locals. It just works better, when we’re generally interested in single use, not to be running into them after the face. Awkward moments like that are boring.  This sexcapade, then, is an exception . . . sorta. The bitch we used this week lives out of town but works for a corporation headquartered in the District, so he’s semi-local. LOL We also might consider him again on a future trip. Our rule – our prerogative! LOL

Also, my continuous pitch for shows of appreciation and support for Bjorn and GayDemon. We wouldn’t have this terrific place to share our sexcapades, our reminiscences and our fantasies without Bjorn’s tireless efforts.

A CrossFit HookUp For The Marine And The Judge

by BillyC

In the past year, since the (former) Indiana CrossFit box’s Gay Pride faux pas and the Corporate so called Christian who mouthed off with anti gay bullshit and promply got fired, CrossFit Corporate has amped up its “visits” to the boxes. We had a CrossFit Corporate visitor during a usual Tuesday advanced WOD – a beast of a stud named Deke, who was working as one of the trainers. 6’ or an inch or two taller, by my visual estimation about 205 pounds of pure, tightly packed on muscle, about 35 yrs old, very dark, straight hair, very hairy and only trimmed at his neck, big bulge and an ass to die for. I did have to laugh at one thing - he was wearing Reebok from head to toe. Reebok is a huge CrossFit sponsor, and he was a walking advertisement – a handsome, masculine stud in form fitting, very revealing gear. If that wasn’t funny enough, turns out Deke IS well-equipped himself, and that big bulge was contained by a Reebok CCM – a jockstrap that’s made for a cup, so it’s a bigger pouch, which we later found out he filled out exceptionally well. Points for ingenuity . . . and for having a big cock and balls!

It was a particularly challenging WOD – the management of our box was showing off for Corporate. Deke was acting like one of the guys, particularly to us. I didn’t think a lot about his overt friendliness – he’s from Corporate after all. They’re supposed to be brand ambassadors and all that. But the way he gravitated to us during the WOD, and the third time he brushed up against me unnecessarily - and that was after the second time he’d done the same with my husband – I smacked his ass HARD after a great set and leaned in and growled next to his ear, “Don’t start anything you can’t finish!” when I could get it in without anyone else hearing.

Deke let out a huge laugh in response and sort of punched my shoulder and said, “Good one, dude!” Then, as he was passing around me, added, “I AM a finisher!” in a low, gravelly near growl. He also held my gaze for long enough to make his intent absolutely clear, in case I hadn’t gotten the message.

My husband Jimmy had noticed the smack, the laugh in response, the retort and lingering gaze. I sensed him watching and switched my gaze to him, getting a grin. I signaled to him with my eyes and a head jerk, and he gave Deke another look up and down – do NOT think I didn’t notice him checking the trainer out before! – and then gave me a thumbs up.

And we went on . . . Deke really challenged us during the WOD and I think he very well might have been trying to see if we were heartfit enough to take him on and fuck him senseless! Spoiler alert – we passed!

After, we hit the lockers. Deke had followed us and as we were getting our gym bag out and briefly contemplating shower or just change into dry street clothes to go home, he loudly proclaimed in our direction – “I need a damn shower!”

Deliberation was over. I walked over, and I told him – “If you’re planning on FINISHING, you’ll have plenty to shower off afterward!”

He replied with a too loud, “FUCK YEAH!”

We followed on foot to his hotel. In the District, full of great hotels, particularly around Dupont Circle, his wasn’t greatest, though not bad and probably fit within his corporate travel budget better than the exorbitant rates of the Ritz Carlton and other top grade hotels in the area.  In retrospect, we should have just gone to our condo – we’d have been more comfortable.

He had to be put down a bit – too kissy and shit when the door to his room had closed. “Strip and present!” I barked.

That got another, “Oh FUCK YEAH!” out of him, and complied. The studly trainer stripped at light speed, his sweat soaked muscle shirt and workout shorts snapped and dripped, and his sweat splattered when they plopped on the floor. The rest of his ripped, furred bod was as pleasing as expected from the preview when his workout clothes clung to him. He did take time stripping off his sopping jockstrap, for our benefit. The pouch was made for a cup, so it was oversized, and he’d plumped it full with a fat cock and heavy, hairy balls, all protruding from a thick thatch of lush, dark pubes. And when he took off the strap, he leaned over and gave us a full on view of his statue perfect ass, hairy all over and the sweaty thatch in his crack around his cunthole as inviting as could be.

“That hole ready for use?” I asked.

“Which one?” he replied sassily. Then before we could answer, he turned around again, bent over again, spread his hairy asscheeks wide apart and added, “One sure way to find out!”

“Looks damn tight,” I told him. “You think that cunt can take these two horsecocks?” I asked him, gripping my hardening cock and giving it a good shake in his direction.

He planted his feet wide and put his fists on his hips. He took a long look at my crotch, and then met my eyes. “I already told you there’s only, there’s only one way to find out,” he replied defiantly, chin up and smirking.

 “If you need to clean up, get it done, boy, because you’ll be sucking our cocks clean after we use that hole of yours.”

He replied - “You bet your sacs I’m ready to go . . . and I will!” Then – “How ‘bout you unleash those monsters?”

We told him to do that himself. Jim commanded, “You want ‘em, then you take them out.”

“Undress my husband first,” I clarified. The bitch quickly complied.

Deke on his knees and wide-eyed was bone-reinforcing.  “May I?” he asked, for the first time respectful of his place. He was paused with his fingers of one hand inside Jimmy’s sopping waistband, his other hand poised to take hold of the impressive bulge my husband was sporting and looking up at him expectantly. Before Jimmy, who was peeling off his sweat-dripping shirt himself, could answer, the bitch turned to me and asked again.

I shrugged as Jim restarted him. “We didn’t tell you to undress us to make a show of it. Get it done and THEN you can get to work on our cocks.”

So he got Jim’s trunks and jockstrap down to knee level before becoming distracted . . . with both an exceptionally pleased reaction when Jimmy’s massive cock and heavy hanging nuts sprung free and when he leaned in and inhaled the heady scent of my husband I know so well. “You’re not finished with your first task – get him NAKED . . . and then we’ll let you enjoy your next task!” I barked

Deke blushed and grinned, and he immediately complied, tossing the sweat sopping clothes to the side. I then told him to get Jim’s shoes and socks off. Deke guided Jim to sit on the mercifully large bed, and he only briefly sniffed each shoe, sock and foot as he did.  “I see you,” I admonished him.

I also saw Jim wince twice almost unnoticeably – when Deke tossed his trunks and strap in a heap, then again as Deke chucked his shoes out of the way, as they landed and dispersed into a wide flung pile across the floor. He hadn’t minded Deke’s clothes carelessly discarded, but his own? Sacrilege! LOL That’s my husband!

As Jim sat on the edge of the bed, his cock jutting out at Deke’s face, Deke’s desire was so evident. Really HOT. As I had been his principal controller, he looked over at me expectantly. But he was startled when Jim ordered him to, “Stop lazing on your knees and go get my husband undressed!”

Deke was up and at me immediately, his own fat, stubby hardon bobbing in front of him and meaty, hairy nuts swinging appealingly as he came over to me. “Good boy!” Jimmy praised his quick response, ever the encouraging dad core of him. “Shirt first!” he’d snapped when our bitch reached for my waistband, like he had Jimmy. The encouraging dad, the directing dad, all core to him and enjoyed by me when HE wasn’t being my bitch so captivatingly.

So Deke got up and purposely jammed his hardon into my thigh as he wrestled my sweaty shirt off. When it was over my head he leaned in and inhaled deeply near my left pit. Jim threw me a glance, but I returned his look with a signal that I was fine with it, so he ordered the bitch to, “Clean his pits with your tongue, first, before you finish undressing him!” in a sharp bark.

That appeared to suit his purpose just fine. Deke flung my shirt with a PLOP onto the TV, and I thought Jim might groan out loud. Instead it was I who audibly responded as Deke dove into my right pit and really went at it, snuffling, snorting and totally pigging out. I was startled when Jim raised his voice. “DO NOT touch yourself! This is about US and our pleasure!” As consolation . . . or tantalization . . . I ground my hardon into his waist as he determinedly enjoyed my sweaty, rank armpit. Then the other one.  

Deke went back and forth, sucking, licking, rubbing his face in my pits, all the while growling, exclaiming, snorting - really pigging out! I felt his precum running down my knee and shin at one point, and that amped up my own production. Jimmy relaxed into watching, leaning back on his elbows on the edge of the bed, watching, smiling his beautiful smile, agonizingly slowly stroking his freely dripping cock. The sight of him eclipsed the pleasure of our bitch’s sweaty body against mine and the practiced and energetic work of his tongue, mouth, nose and face.

I finally ordered the bitch to get my shorts and shoes off, and he did my shorts and jockstrap with over eager enthusiasm and then gasped – literally – when he had my impossibly thick cock freed. I always love that moment with a new bitch! I know it’s shallow and vain, but whatthefuck!

“We’re gonna wreck your fuckn cunt. Then we’ll be on our way!” I told him.

Another “FUUUUUUCCKKK YEAH!” from him. Then - “You gonna seed me? Between you two those balls look like they’re more than capable of knocking me up!”

“Enough of the pussy woman ‘knocking up’ shit!” I barked. And I meant it. I almost always hate that nonsense.

He lowered his eyes and said very strongly, “Sorry!” as if he was angry with himself. Then, “Understood, sir!” Okay, points redeemed. “I’m on PrEP and totally clean, so you know you can use me any way you want.” Points earned and points forfeited – he never asked if we were clean, which almost made me hesitate to use him bare. Almost.

“Clean my husband’s sweat - ALL of it, ending with his shithole!” I ordered. I hadn’t let Deke get past my pits, and I really wanted to watch my husband being pleasured . . . and maybe to use one or both of them myself while he did!

He was ON that! Jimmy scrabbled backwards up on the bed, and Deke dove onto him, and really ate his pits and licked his neck and chest. I took the opportunity to tease him a bit while his ass was in the air as he worked his way down my husband’s long torso. I smacked his big, hairy nuts a few times, getting yelps and groans, but definitely appreciation. I teased his hairy hole with my finger, smacked his VERY furry bubble butt repeatedly, harder and harder, too, alternating with the nut smacking and hole teasing until his moans and groans were LOUD and continuous.

Deke’s furry ass was world class, I should add. Lunges, stairmaster, biking, who knew? But what was obvious was that those globes of buttflesh were sheer perfection. And the dark fur covering was icing on an already sinfully appetizing cake.

He had his face buried in Jim’s asscrack muffling his moans and cries when he suddenly came up for air and shouted - “OH FUCK I’m—“ and then came very suddenly came HARD while I smacked his pulled up nuts. I had noticed them pulling up, but I thought it was in response to the abuse . . . or escalation of arousal. NOT because he was that easy a cummer! “Sorry!” He gasped as he pumped out all over the bed and Jim. I didn’t stop my attentions, and I enjoyed his body’s spasms’ intensity, particularly when my hand smacked his tanks.

“A ripe one, Billy,” Jimmy said, making us all three laugh as Deke struggled to get himself back on task. Ripe in so many ways - the waft of our sweatstink in the room was heavy by then . . . and better than any cologne or air freshener!

The bitch was panting and working to get his breathing under control as he went back to Jimmy with his tongue. He offered one last “I’m really sorry. But DAYUM!” as he got back to it.

We really didn’t mind. And in discussion afterward, both my husband and I had a similar thought when Deke came so suddenly like that – he might be LOADs of fun to take our time with and really drain him before we gave him any of our seed. At the time, though, I erred on the side of my cock and nuts’ satisfaction.

From the looks of Jim’s precum flow, he thought it was as hot as I did. I scooped up Deke’s spilt jizz and roughly penetrated his tight, furred cunthole and lubed him with it. “I’d say he’s a ripe pain pig!” I told Jimmy as Deke was by then sucking Jim’s ass. He grunted around two of my big fingers inside him as I continued to roughly open him and smear more globs of his own cum inside him. “I think he’s ready if you are,” I told Jim when Deke was fucking back onto three fingers and panting and moaning like a bitch while he was still eating Jimmy’s hole. I could tell Jim was ready by his pants and moans from the bitch’s expert tonguework.

“Switch,” Jim proclaimed, suddenly letting his legs fall and dislodging the ass sucking bitch.

We didn’t, exactly. We kept Deke on all fours, but I got up to where he could suck me while Jimmy fucked him.

“This hole still looks TIGHT,” Jim teased, rubbing his slimy knob all over the bitch’s hairy crack and hole.

“I can take it!” the bitch nearly begged.  I pushed his head down onto my cock, and he was giving that a decent try as Jim entered him. The bitch cried out LOUD, but I held his head and shoved my cock in until his mouth was filled, muffling the cry.

“He IS tight!” my husband confirmed, and Deke moaned as loudly as he could with me assaulting the opening to his throat. Then Jimmy started pumping Deke, which caused the bitch to, in time with the thrusts, open WIDER to moan or cry. That, of course, was my opportunity to shove in farther, finally achieving his throat.

Jimmy’s long dicking him and my forcing him to keep himself down on my cock in spite of his bucking and cherry red, sweating face and muffled pleas and cries went on for a bit. The gagging, choking, spitting, protesting never stopped. But Deke was fucking back into Jimmy’s slowly pistoning cock, and it was obviously time to up the game.

I let the bitch have some breathing space, allowing him to pull his head back and suck in loud breaths. My husband took the cue, though, and began really drilling his cunt and causing Deke to grunt with each bottom out inside him and to give a sharp moan on the outgo which turned into a cry before Jimmy thrust back HARD into him. This was all so rapid once Jimmy really was drilling him hard and fast that the moans and reactions were melding together.

Finally, I pushed Deke back onto my cock, and about then Jimmy really bitchfucking him. It was tough for Deke to retain purchase to lick and suck my cock, but I helpfully held his head in position so he could attend to his duties. Jimmy’s slamfuck was hard and fast, and at one point Deke surrendered to my hold and let his mouth engulf my cockknob, let his tongue rest against my slit and underside and allowed the jolts to do the work for him. All the while he moaned continuously, sometimes higher pitched, sometimes louder, depending on the force of Jim’s onslaught.

Deke wasn’t the greatest cocksucker, but watching my husband really get into fucking him had me so high that when Jimmy growled out, “I’m going to flood you!” I was the one who lost it. As in NO control, and was I think pumping out and gagging Deke before Jim’s first nutblast. My nuts had just ignited and were spewing my jizz hard, and the bitch was struggling with the volume and force of it, swallowing between moans.

Jimmy’s climax was jolting, too, as I watched his face and neck muscles contort and tense and then his body spasm as blast after blast was propelled more than ten inches inside our bitch’s cuntchute. We never broke eye contact while we each gave that bitch our loads.

I watched Jimmy go a bit slack, bracing himself with his hands on the bitch’s waist, feeling the pressure against Deke’s body. Deke by then had swallowed everything, licked me until it became uncomfortable for me, and I’d knocked him off, so he was resting his face on my crotch, still ass up.

When Jim finally pulled out, with a loud cry from Deke as his cuntring was stretched around Jimmy’s impressively flanged knob, all I wanted was to have my husband all to myself. I didn’t want our bitch’s hole, primed with my husband’s cum and stretched for my further challenge of his capacity, I just wanted to be able to enjoy fucking my husband. “Okay, time for us to get going!” I proclaimed, making it sound more like a joke than the imperative it was in my mind.

Deke looked up my body at me, even as he obediently began to lift himself to let me up. “I understand,” the bitch said, a bit sadly. “But you’re still hard, and could I just feel that fuckn monster inside me, too? I have to clean off his cock anyway, so my ass might as well be used while I do!”

“Let him sit on it, babe. He earned it!” Jimmy said sensibly. And they both had a point. And we’d have our time soon enough.

So he climbed on, and as he did I noticed for the first time that the bitch had shot another load at some point. Must have been while Jim was railing him. The second cumload was equally impressive and puddled – and almost piled in places – in an arc out on the bed from where his cock would have been and my side.

Deke STRUGGLED to take me, forcing his battered cunt down onto and around me. It might have been more fun if he could have verbalized the faces he was giving while he forced himself onto me. I forced myself to enjoy his hard work and not to laugh. And I had his tongue slathering of Jimmy’s half hard, slimy cock to distract me.

Deke achieved his goal and suddenly slid down on my cock until his furry, hard ass was on my groin. He squealed around Jim’s cock, but he had it to suck clean, and he maintained his work at that end and managed to grind and ride my cock up and down a little, too.

Jim was about 3/4 hard when he finally said, “I think you’ve more than cleaned me,” and pulled out. Deke’s groans didn’t stop as he continued to ride my cock. I briefly contemplated bucking him off, but Jim went around and looked at where we were joined and said, “That is a beautiful sight. He’s STRETCHED and FULL of you!”

That gave me a burst of incentive, and I fucked up into Deke. He was panting and sweating, and his face was red and scrunched up, but he was taking it, albeit with unmanly moans and grunts as he endured it.

“Had enough?” I finally asked.

“Oh god yes! Sorry!” he quickly said, and he even quicker began his very loud, painful dismount. When he was off and had gotten himself around to lick me clean of his slimy ass, he looked up at me and said, “You actually FUCK with that?”

I laughed. “Concentrate on your job there, so we can get going. It’s been fun, but . . . “

I actually was stopped mid sentence by him swallowing my cock, including down his throat, for the first time. I may have been as surprised as he was, because when he came up again, after an amusing fight to get my knob back out his throat opening – okay, yeah – I love THAT, too, the moment when the bitch is suddenly terrified he won’t be able to get my cock back OUT of his throat after finally being able to take it the first time! – he took a long gasp of breath and then grinned and said, “I FUCKING DID IT!”

I was already getting off the bed and uttered some half-hearted “good man”, and Jimmy took up the slack, again the encouraging coach and dad. “You did darn good! And particularly well for my purpose, as I needed to regain some Continuing Gay Education credits, because my Gay Card was in danger.”

Deke gave a confused look. “Not sure what that all means, but I’ll tell you one thing. I’d sure love to give you two a chance to give me some advanced ‘education’,” he smirked, air quoting the last word.

He suggested we shower, and we declined. We wanted to get out and get to eachother, and I for one wanted to TASTE my husband just as he was. Also, we could see through to the unimpressive bathroom, and it would have been serial because of the tiny tub/shower stall. In retrospect that dreary shower facility could have worked to avoid prolonged or renewed play in the shower, but still, I know I wanted to enjoy Jimmy’s tastes and smells, and I would have won my bet had I made it that he wanted the same.

We quickly got into our dry clothes from our gym bags, got our sweaty clothes into wet bags and then had the inevitable awkward departure. No, we weren’t needing Deke’s card, as we weren’t going to email him anything salacious (or otherwise). We didn’t offer our contact info. Besides - if he really wants to get in touch because he’s back or something, we’re in the box’s membership, and he’s from Corporate and I bet could get it!

Finally, what seemed like far too long later, brohugs all around – the used bitch still naked and dripping Jimmy’s cum down his thighs and off his sac. We made our way through the third rate hotel, reeking of sex, me thinking that we likely weren’t the first sex-sated men to have walked the halls and through the lobby stinking. When we got outside, fortunately there was a breeze, so those we passed only got wafts and not the full treatment as we walked back to Jim’s car where we had left it in the lot adjacent to CrossFit.

As we were walking, we were within a block of our condo, and he asked if we should just go there. It was tempting. I told Jimmy it depended on how bad he wanted my cock. There, right out on K Street, he grabbed my crotch, causing both of us to stop . . . and causing a few stares. “I always want your cock, Billy,” he answered with intensity in his stare into my eyes, as we were by then facing one another there on the sidewalk. “Anywhere. Anytime.”

I strongly considered it. Right there, right then. My inner pig could have REALLY got into that. I told Jimmy that in a low growl, and he squeezed my semi harder, and his eyes rolled back a bit at the thought. Then I said, “I’m sure there’s something in the voluminous and detailed Code of Judge’s Conduct or whatever the fuck code it is that says that’s not advisable.” We both laughed, and Jimmy gave up his grip on my cock but kissed me instead.

We continued walking, holding hands as I’d take his that had so recently been pleasantly gripping my fuckrod, then drove home. And took our time at home. In the pool. For starters.

So, to our dear friend Patrick Law, who “caught” my husband in his serious faux pas of not recognizing Tom of Finland – which by any standard is an essential gay infraction, certainly the loss of his Gay Card looming – we consider that he has been redeemed. You, of course, will be the arbiter of your satisfaction with his restitution. The Universe answers need – swiftly . . . and damn enjoyably, as far as I’m concerned! LOL

And to my readers, I hope you have, once again, enjoyed a glimpse into our depraved sexcapades in some small fraction as much as we enjoyed them! As always, any comments or direct emails are always welcome.

Lastly, again, show Bjorn some love – he deserves it!