I haven’t posted in a while – life intervenes . . . and I've frankly been consuming more of the great, enjoyable stories on GayDemon, just taking time I could otherwise be using to cull my journal and write up more of my and our sexploits. But my husband and I have been rereading the account I jounaled last Saturday of that morning's fun for a few days now in between enjoying some great postings by our fellows on GayDemon, so I decided we share it with you.

A CrossFit Saturday Morning Tease

The Marine and the Attorney Have Some (More) Fun

- by BillyC

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I should have known not to be the “responsible one” this morning when my husband wanted to go back for thirds, after our seconds when we got back from our morning run. Firsts had been before the run, lazy and languid as we awoke naked and hard, like most mornings, already setting us back close to an hour to start the day – good thing we’re very early risers . . . in both senses there! But I had resisted the temptation of a third romp with my sexy husband, insisting instead that we get on with our day and make it to CrossFit on time, with what seemed like hundreds of chores to do in town after that.

We managed to make it to the box just in time. Bur on the twenty minute drive, my devilish husband Jim had been talkative (not unusual) and had managed to work “shove,” “pump,” “tight,” “wet,” “throb,” “relief,” “”fill,” “stretch,” “release,” “pound” and even “piston” along with numerous other provocative words throughout each sentence, all the while adjusting is bulging crotch and shifting his always-inviting ass.

I’d been so worked up halfway through the drive that I’d suggested bailing on CrossFit, which shocked him because I LOVE CrossFit. But he’d only taken that as encouragement to amp up his payback, replying, “No way. I’m way to TIGHT and need the intensity of the exertion to relax and stretch my muscles.” Of course all I could think about was my favorite of his muscles, which was indeed always TIGHT, despite four years of battery now by my cock.

We’d dressed for the workout and taken our street clothes for afterward, so we were able to throw our gear in the corner and head right in with about two minutes to spare. A couple of new guys had joined our group that morning, and when I say “a couple” I wasn’t sure exactly what type of couple they were, but obviously they were there together and were close. Jon and Dak, as our trainers very summarily motioned toward the new guys and then sounded off the rest of us rapidly. Not only did we not know which was Jon and which was Dak, except for the very quick nods as Avi fired off our names, they had to be lost, too.

It didn’t take Sherlock Holmesian skills to tell that they were together in some fashion. The shorter of the two lean-muscled hotties wore a compression tank top of unrecognizable brand that showed, along with the dilectible dusting of chest fur, a SEAL tatt on his right pec. His tank, stretched tight over his bulging pecs and along his collar bone by his bulbous shoulder caps, showed plenty of that ink. His buddy, taller though equally lean-muscled, wore an Under Armour compression tank that likewise showed every rip and mound of his sculpted torso, and it also betrayed smooth, corded skin. UA sported a neck tatt easily recognizable as the Marine EGA. But what made the two of the guys notable as opposed to just eye-catching was that each of their tattoos had ROYGBIV colors meticiously interwoven into the trident and the eagle’s wings. The SEAL wore the older-style short, butt-hugging PT shorts, like my husband and I prefer, and they showed his furry and very well-developed, sinewy legs. The Marine wore obscenely tight spandex shorts cut to mid-thigh, and when I say obscenely tight, I could tell from the waffle weave under his very prominent basked that he was wearing a jock strap.

They obviously pegged us as former military, too – or something else about us drew them to us – because they moved across a couple of the other regulars and shook our hands quickly as we were getting to the WOD. “Jon and Dak,” with two outstretched hands that delivered strong, definite grips. Dak the SEAL; Jon my brother Coprsman. As we’d jostled around to shake, my husband had both brushed my aching crotch with the back of his hand and had rubbed his half-hardon (shamelessly obvious to all, I might add) against my thigh and had quickly ground in. Jon definitely noticed and smirked.

As a man proud of his ability to multi-task, particularly when it involves good male scenery, I’m embarrassed to admit that even the sight of our two newest CrossFitters’ HOT bodies didn’t divert much of my attention from the WOD. Our two hyper-challenging trainers really put us through our paces. I admit to trying to enjoy the sight of the new guys’ muscles pumping and rippling under their tight shirts and tighter shorts, and more than once my ever-observant husband caught me.

Jim made it a point to catch a surreptitious grab of my crotch at the next opportunity after the first time he caught me enjoying a glimpse of Dak’s fat cock and big balls in his jock strap captured painfully in the leg of his PT shorts during a hard landing. My naughty husband brushed against my swelling bulge several times after that, twice with his irresistible ass, challenging my ability to keep my crotch under some degree of control. I was about to the point where even the extremity of the exertion and my usual steel will over my boner reflex would lose the battle, and my own now-obvious crotch bulge was threatening to go to an obscene protrusion when we were nearly through the WOD. For good measure, Jim chest-bumped me when we high-fived at the end, like we normally do, and he deliberately shifted so he crashed into me full-on, our crotches fully making contact. His evil grin confirmed it was no accident, and he smacked my ass HARD as we stumbled and caught our balance.

Guzzling bottles of water, chests heaving, sweat running like rain off us, the majority of the people lingered to get themselves square to leave. The trainers were asking Jon and Dak how they liked it, shamelessly eliciting as much praise for their challenging methods as they could work into rapid fire questions, and the new guys looked like they could use a lifeline. Jim’s voice close to my ear: “Not to fuel your fantasies, but the new guys look like they could use some saving. You know how Avi and Jay can be.”

I punched him with my elbow into his ribs but headed across to where the trainers had the new guys cornered. “Hey,” I called. “Jim and I have to shower up and get out of here, but I wanted to make sure we caught your contact info so we could follow-up on that . . . “ and that’s where I faltered.

Jon quickly interjected. “We’re going to shower, too. If you can show us the way, we’ll exchange our stuff on the way.”

In my already-aroused state, my nuts and cock reacted to “exchange our stuff.” I shifted and adjusted myself, at the same time telling him, “Sounds good,” and starting toward the hall to the locker rooms. “This way,” I said, with a bit of a yelp when my husband smacked my ass again and growled in my ear, “Get that weapon under control, Marine!” which didn’t help one bit.

Dak was a little clueless, and when we got into the locker room he asked, “What follow-up?” to Jon and then turning to us.

Jon laughed and caressed Dak’s face. “God I love you, but sometimes your blond really shows. The guys were just saving us from the trainers over-selling, Dakky.”

I glanced at Jim, this time with a WTF look at the “Dakky.” Not that it wasn’t cute the way Dak blushed. So I took my opp, before anyone else came into the lockers. “You two are obviously together . . . ?”

Jon laughed out loud and Dak blushed more and laughed some. “Yeah,” Jon replied.

“Obviously,” Dak added. Then, “Too obvious?” he asked, kicking off his sneakers.

Jon tossled Dak’s sweat-soaked hair and grabbed him from behind and crushed himself into Dak’s back and sort of enveloped the smaller man. “THIS is obvious,” he said, burrowing his face into Dak’s sweaty neck and kissing him loudly.

Dak’s protests were loud, but his body didn’t make a move to push Jon off. Jim and I gave each other a look, knowing we each were thinking that they reminded us a lot of us.

“You two might want to take that to the stalls,” Jim said with a laugh.

“Yeah, get off me, ya big ape jarhead!” Dak protested finally, and then he easily broke Jon’s hold and sent him reeling back a few steps. “C’mon we need to get going.”

With that Jim and I started to strip down, and so did Jon. DAMN but he was one fine specimen! Jim leaned over to get something out of the gym bag and moved so he was close to my ear and said, “Easy, tiger.” I realized I’d been staring.

Dak looked back at Jon. “OH,” he exclaimed with surprise. “We really ARE going to shower up here?”

Jon was grabbing a towel out of their bag and shower flipflops. “We might as well. We brought everything just in case, and . . . “ As his words trailed off, I noticed his gaze was all up and down my naked husband and then switched to me as finally as I finished stripping down.

Dak’s face went from surprise to playful, and he just shook his head. Casting an appreciative glance our way, he said, more to himself than to Jon, “Yeah, why not?” as he stripped down quickly.

Damn . . . . ! That was what my eyes and nuts were telling me about the two studs we were headed into the gang shower with. CrossFitters tend to be pretty well-built. Military men even more-so. Add the two, and you get . . . well my dick didn’t have a name for it, but it was threatening to point them out.

I saw Jon hesitate just a second when he turned the corner and saw it was a gang shower. Jim had been leading the way, and Jon had been paying closer attention to my husband’s hairy bubble butt than the surroundings. As Jim hung up his towel, Jon just looked around. When his face was where I could see it, I could see he was grinning. He and Dak were more deliberate about stowing their towels on the hooks by the entrance, so I headed in and took the shower directly across the center column from Jim and started lathering up.

Military men rarely linger in the shower, at least not when they’re not doing something other than showering. Jim and I were both fully lathered when Dak and Jon joined us at our shower column and took positions at ninety degrees. SHIT! and . . . FUCK! went through my mind as I felt my cock leaving my control.

Jim glanced around the column and caught my eye and looked down and back up. Obviously he was noticing my cock’s mind of its own, too. He just smiled and shook his head, but then he took a huge handful of the shower gel I’d passed him and began lathering up his cock and balls lasciviously. OH HOLY FUCK! Was where I was now, and my cock was at three-quarters.

Jim enjoyed the torment, holding my gaze, working his equipment. Then he took another handful and turned – which wasn’t necessary at all – and began giving his asscrack and hole a very thorough cleaning.


That was not from me; that was from Jon. When I turned in reaction, he was transfixed, rubbing his fully-hard cock and watching my husband, his lips parted and his tongue visible. Jim hadn’t appeared to notice the exclamation, but he continued to lather and rub and wash and finger himself until I had to steady my hand on the shower column.

Something far in the back of my brain reminded me that we were four, and I looked at Dak. He was glancing around furtively from me to Jim to Jon, all the while steadily rubbing his soapy hardon with one hand and massaging his lathered balls with the other.

They were both magnificent specimens of maleness. And my husband could be the model for a modern-day masterpiece if Michelangelo were alive. But we were in a men’s locker room with the potential for many other guys to come in at some time . . . soon. “Guys,” I started, and I simultaneously forced myself to stop rubbing my throbbing hardon.

Jim gave himself an especially DEEP fingering and then held himself open to rinse out, taking his time, eliciting not only a moan in my mind but also an audible one. Then he slowly turned and stepped into the spray with his hands on the column. “Yes?” he asked with feigned innocence.

“Jesus Christ you guys are HOT!” Jon exclaimed with a long growl of frustration as he surrendered his grip and did the same as Jim and put his hands on the column. He turned the regulator to cold and ducked his head fully under the spray, which splattered on all of us, making Jim yelp.

We all laughed at that. Dak chimed in. “We should take this somewhere . . . more . . . private.”

Jim laughed, spreading around the teasing. “Well that would take away half the fun,” he threw in, with a truly evil grin. At least he didn’t take his hands from the shower column, but he did arch his back and push his ass out enough to be noticed.

Jon exhaled a slight moan, and his eyes were clearly on Jim’s ass, which he and Dak both had a decent view from the side. And the tableau suddenly struck me as funny. My husband, now leaning with his upper body at a forty-five degree angle under the sluicing showerhead, his huge, straight-as-an-arrow horsecock jutting downward, causing a water stream that could have just as easily been a stallion’s piss stream. Jon was at a full forty-five degree plank against the shower column, and his fat and uncut cock with its severe arc that nearly touched his groin, made him like like he had a handle to his torso like a cupboard handle or drawer pull. Jim, of course. Dak and I were both leaning into the shower column, both fully hard, him curved upward but not as much as Jon, just a leisurely arc out and up, while my exceptionally fat and long, veiny fuckpole was almost even horizonally because of my lean into the column. Water streamed off all of us, off all our parts, particularly off my and Dak’s big, hanging balls – I couldn’t see Jim’s, and Jon’s were big but close to his body, maybe because of the icy water he’d chosen.

My laughter was contagious, and it was only a moment before we were all laughing and then splashing water at each other. Jim’s head snapped up, and his gaze went to the entrance to the shower room, and I caught the move and looked too. Avi was standing there, his towel off and near the hooks but seemingly he was frozen in place.

“Don’t mind us,” Jim called. “Come on in – the water’s great . . . at least for three of us,” he added, cracking himself up all over again.

Avi wasn’t far enough away that it wasn’t obvious that his gaze caught our state of arousal. His own fat, stubby, cut cock was somewhat more than at rest, but he wasn’t making a spectacle of himself like the rest of us were. “I can see . . . it . . . or at least it looks good for all four of you,” he observed awkwardly, doing his best to make a joke.

“Awwww, c’mon, Av,” I goaded him. “You’re going to tell me you and your brothers in arms never popped wood in the Israeli army’s showers? And besides – LOOK!” I gestured with my head and moved both my hands on the shower column. “All our hands are on the pipes . . . er, I mean . . . “

That got all of us laughing uncontrollably again, and Avi gave a sort of nervous laugh himself and went to one of the other columns and turned on the water there.

A quick check around our group, and I could see we were all flagging a bit, but our weapons were nowhere near holstered. Dak surprised me by asking, just loud enough for us all to hear him over the showers, “I really wouldn’t mind taking this somewhere else to finish up.”

A shiver went through me – ten percent excitement, which seemed to jolt my nuts and re-energize my fuckbone – SHIT! – but the other ninety percent was worry or fear or anxiety or something, which I grabbed onto within my racing thoughts to get my hardon back on ebb. Jim and I don’t “play” per se. While we’ve had a few, very far between, er, episodes, yeah, I’ll call them episodes, we’ve basically maintained a line that we both are comfortable with, even within those episodes.

“What do you think, Colonel?” my husband’s teasing voice asked me across the shower column.

“Wait,” Jon interjected. “Colonel? Seriously?”

“No,” Jim responded and let it sit for a moment before he clarified. “Seriously my husband is a retired general.”

“HOLY SHIT!” Jon exclaimed.

“Wow,” Dak added.

Jim just chuckled. “Yeah, exactly. All that man and two starts to boot!” His grin at me, his delight in teasing me and pressing this on was written from ear to ear.

“FUCK that’s HOT!” Jon said.

“Guys, no, it’s nothing like that, I’m just a Marine –“ I started to declaim, but Jon interrupted me.

With a motion too dangerous for the wet shower floor tiles, he was standing straight and had his right arm and hand up in a perfect salute. “SIR!” he barked, and I caught Avi looking over his shoulder at us.

“Fucking STOP IT!” I barked back. “Since the fuck WHEN did you ever salute in a shower?”

Jon, ridiculously holding his position, barked, “SIR! There was that ONE TIME, SIR, when I was caught,” and then he started to crack up, and I did, too, along with Jim and Dak.

Dak threw in, “He really DID get caught with another officer by a full bird colonel once, but it was just horsing around, not fucking around.”

Jon clarified, “Yeah, but we were both hard as . . . well . . . as hard as all of us were a while ago!”

Jim just laughed it off. “Billy, you haven’t weighed in on the proposition yet,” he said as our lull of conversation continued. “And since I’m starting to shrivel here, now would be a good time.” And with that he turned off his showerhead and strutted over to the towel hooks, his semi bouncing and slapping his thighs all the way, a taunting grin thrown at me over his shoulder.

“We’re up for it, SIR!” Dak encouraged.

“I, uh, well, I,” I stammered and couldn’t come up with anything. My guts were churning. My nuts were boiling. And I was putting more energy into controlling my cock, which wanted to rise again like the South, than I could put into framing an answer.

Jon shut off his showerhead and Dak followed suit, but neither of them moved. I decided to shut mine off,too – God knew I was hygienically as clean as I was going to get; but the thoughts in my head were swirling and mostly decidedly filthy. I headed toward the toweling area, the guys in my wake.

Jon apparently GOT that I had some reservations. “Look, we don’t want to horn in on anything here,” he offered. But Jim was having none of it.

“Guys,” he said in a low voice so as not to involve Avi, who wasn’t all that far away, but was clearly drawing out his shower. “What we’ve got planned today is drudgery at best. And it’s HOT out and sunny, and we live down on the water. If you don’t have anything going on, come on over to our place for the morning, and we’ll enjoy the pool or beach.”

“Sounds fantastic!” Dak said, now drying himself.

“Uh,” Jon said, “All we’ve got are our sweaty workout clothes; we don’t have any swim gear.”

Jim had his hand on my shoulder by then, his thumb rubbing the back of my neck as I dried my hair awkwardly around his touch. “Our property is private, so that’s not a problem.”

I jerked my head around to him and saw his big smile. At the same time Dak said, “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

As we dressed quickly out in the locker room, surprisingly completely empty despite another group that I knew was coming in for a session an hour after ours ended, a beginner’s and senior’s group, which I’d actually always wondered about, we gave them our address for their GPS. We all shook hands very gentlemanly, Jon tried to salute again and got a strong reprimand from me, to which he suggested he be disciplined severely, and we finally hit our cars.

Jim had started my SUV remotely as we’d approached, and the air conditioning was blasting in face and chest, since we hadn’t bothered to put on shirts with the heat outside, but it didn’t cool me down any. “What the FUCK was that?” I fired at Jim. “And what the FUCK is THIS?”

Jim calmly turned toward me in the seat and put his warm hand on mine on the console. “They’re nice. And they’re HOT. And they make you HOT.” Then he pulled my hand to his crotch, where he was obviously aroused again and getting more so. “And you getting HOT makes me VERY hot,” he continued, low and determined. And then he moved my hand into the leg of his walking shorts and to his nuts and the stalk of his big hardon, and I realized I’d completely missed that he’d gone commando after the shower.

I’m sure I just whimpered at that point, more into my husband’s arousal than my own trepidations. “Rules of engagement?” I managed to get out weakly.

Jim’s voice was husky now, his eyes boring into mine, his hand clamped over mine, causing mine to have a firm hold on his trapped manhood. “What would get you the hottest?”

“I still owe you for the Phoenix thing,” I said before I realized I’d even thought it.

Jim’s intense stare went to a wide and evil grin. “And WHAT do you owe me, other than a great time because you had one at my request?”

“I want them to double-fuck you while I fuck your throat.” I said it, again before I even realized I’d thought it. And fortunately Jim’s reaction was quick enough to forestall the sudden rush of trepidation which washed into me as the thought took form in me.

He leaned in and kissed me very long and with great promise but only mild urgency. “I’m yours to enjoy, Billy. Always have been, always will be. If that’s what you want, then I can’t wait to give you that,” he said breathily into my mouth.

Just then a horn alerted us to Dak and Jon in front of where we were parked, them in a Jeep. Jim put down his window, and I heard Dak call, “You guys starting without us?” and him laughing.

Jim called back. “We never stop.” And then he put the window up and waited for them to move.

I was hard as a steel post during the drive home. Jim was rubbing my neck, driving with he left arm, knowing I was starting to think too much, but not saying anything. Finally I said, “Could you pull over for a minute?” Jim looked at my but by way of answer, he pulled off the rural road that runs down to the shore area where we live and put the truck in park, leaving it running and the A/C blasting. “Is this us, Jimmy?”

Jim leaned across and pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my head and then my lips. This kiss was deep and passionate and urgent. “THIS,” he breathed into my face, his lips brushing mine after we broke the kiss, “Is us. It always will be. If I misread the situation, just tell me Billy.”

“Are you seriously okay with what I said I wanted us to do?” I asked, leaning my forehead into his.

To that, my very smart husband took one of my hands and put it on his raging cock, and he then put his hand on mine. He didn’t say anything. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, I started to stroke him, and he moaned and started to stroke me. Our breathing picked up again immediately – short gasps as we rubbed each other with the familiarity of two people who know each other and each other’s bodies with expertise.

“Do we go for a swim and enjoy some new friends or do we go for a swim and ENJOY some new friends?” he growl-whispered, now massaging my big, aching nuts.

“Let’s go do this!” I declared, loud and decisive.

When we got to our house, they were already there, waiting in our turnaround in front of the house. They were shirtless, too, and again I was struck by the appeal of their tight-muscled bodies. Instead of driving around to the garages, we left the SUV out there with their jeep and used the remote to unlock the front door. As we got out, they’d hopped out of the open Jeep, and Dak called, his gaze going from Jim’s crotch to mine, “No fair starting without us!”

“C’mon, guys,” Jim called as he passed and headed to the front door. “We’re going to delay the pool a bit for the comfort of a huge bed and air conditioning. You up for that?”

“Holy fuck ARE we?!” Jon affirmed, quick on Jim’s heels as Dak and I brought up the rear.

Inside, after we’d shut the front door but before we headed up the stairs, Jim level set with them there in our big entry foyer. “A couple of things. First, we DON’T do this. As in we’ve been together four years and have only once or twice hooked up with other guys.”

“We’re duly honored,” Jon interjected. “And to be honest we’ve never had a threesome or foursome since we’ve been together, unless you count non-contact things like circle-jerks.”

I looked at Dak, and he looked embarrassed at the confession but nodded. “Seriously.”

“But just to be clear,” Jim continued, taking back control, “We’re both clean – completely – and expect to stay that way. So if you’re not one hundred percent certain you are, too, you need to say so now because we don’t like anything but skin-on-skin, and if you guys aren’t SURE you’re clean, we WILL use protection.” He didn’t have to wait for an answer.

Both Dak and Jon said at once, “We’re together eight months, and,” and then Jon continued for the both of them. We’ve been tested every month since we got together. We’re totally clean – totally.” Dak echoed, “And we haven’t been with anyone separately because we just started barebacking and promised we wouldn’t do anyone else if we were going bare together.”

Jim stared both of them down, but neither of them blinked or backed down. He put out his hand to shake, and Jon took it and without breaking eye contact, shook it decisively. Then Dak did the same while Jon and I shook hands and lastly Dak and I. I thought that would have us up and to our cavorting – frankly my cock was still hard, but it was getting impatient and annoyed by the “business” to clear up first.

“Just one more thing,” my husband added. With a “WHAT ELSE” look shot his way, I motioned for him to get on with it, which amused him. “The general is getting impatient. And all of us know that’s a VERY bad thing.” Laughter from the three of them, and a guffaw from me. “But just know this. This, what we do today, might NEVER happen again. Or it might if we all want it to and the circumstances are right. But there will be no pressure from us, and we expect the same.”

Dak spoke up quickly. “I have to tell you I’m shitting bricks right now. You’ll get no pressure from me, that’s for damn sure, but I don’t even know if I can really pull this off.”

My turn to interject some teasing into the equation. “What we’re going to do, there will no need for you to pull it off . . . if you mean that like jacking off.” Okay, the marine’s subtlety and turn of phrase could use a lot of work, but Dak laughed, albeit nervously.

Jon piped up. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation we had on the way over here. Like, ‘Are you really okay with this?’ ‘I think so; are you?’ ‘Uh, I am if you are.’ ‘And it’s okay that we never planned to fool around with anyone else?’ It went on basically until you got out of the car and I told Dak to shut the fuck up or he was going to blow our chance.” Jim laughed, and Dak continued to laugh nervously.

“There WILL be blowing involved,” I proclaimed. “IF you all want to go through with this. And I’ll add that Jimmy and I had much the same conversation ourselves.”

Jon said, “Should we do rock, paper, scissors or something?” and we all laughed, letting off some of the tension.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Jim said, and with that he released the button on his shorts and let them fall to the floor and his impressive hardon bounced out. “That’s my vote. Anyone with me?”

With that we all scrabbled out of our shorts, and that led to a near stampede up the stairs to our guest bedroom. When I looked at Jim when he took the turn in the hall to go toward those rooms, he seemed to know I’d be wondering, and he just gave me a wink.

Four naked HOT former military men, finally past the formalities, and nobody held back. Jim had his hands on Dak’s cock and Jim’s nuts, and I squeezed in and we all started kissing. Yes, kissing. Four grown men who know how to ENJOY men . . . they KISS. And we did, slobbering all over each other, licking necks and finally I began to lick Jim’s armpit, and Jon said, “GOD that’s fucking HOT!” and took his other pit. Then Dak was on his knees sucking my cock aggressively, like a pro with my uncut piece despite his own being cut. I always think you know best how to handle – pun INtended – your own type of cock, though I admit I know my way around all types.

We all landed on the big king-sized guest room bed in a heap and amid grunts and yelps as our bodies collided. But we didn’t miss a beat, either, and Jim had his ass over Dak’s face, and Dak was eating him with gusto while Jon and I took a moment to enjoy the sight. I pushed Jon’s head down toward my husband’s raging cock, and he looked at it wide-eyed and said, “I’ve never sucked a cock this big,” before grabbing hold of the shaft firmly and opening his mouth WIDE and going for it. Jim threw his head back, and I bit his neck as Jon went to town on his cockhead and a few inches of his shaft.

Jim clamped his hands on Jon’s head and began directing him, angling his head better and guiding him and pressing him down farther, challenging Jon until he gagged and then giving him some relief before starting again. He timed his thrusts into Jon’s mouth with his grinding on Dak’s face, the slurping loud and Dak’s moans and growls enthusiastic and hungry.

I left my husband’s neck and went down on Dak, taking him to the pubes in one swallow. “OH FUCKN A!” he cried out, muffled in Jim’s hairy ass, but the appreciation was evident. I really went to work on that cock and slicked up my middle finger and had it inside him soon after. Dak was bucking and crying out as I really worked him, careful to ease the tongue pressure on his cockhead and then to come off completely and lick his nuts when his cock got too thick and his head flared warning of his explosion. He clearly loved riding my finger as it worked his P-spot, too, and his precum flowed constantly and was sweet without being the slightest bit salty.

Meanwhile, Jon gagged tremendously hard at one point, and Jim let him completely off him. Jon threw himself back and gasped for breath as the spit and mucous ran from his open mouth and lips down over a nicely-chiseled chin. I was licking Dak’s nuts at that point, giving him an edge-off, so I could enjoy the sight of Jon’s hairy torso, glistening with sweat again, heaving with his breathing. And his eyes were hungry, fixed on Jim’s huge cock bobbing away as he rode Dak’s face. Dak’s gasps and groans and moans were equally enthusiastic and slurpy, and my finger hitting his knob could make his entire body tense and a huge glob of precum to roll out of his swollen cockhead. Of course I slathered it up as soon as it started rolling off his helmut.

Jim interrupted my torment, me edging Dak mercilessly, as he’d obviously been pretty primed to start and I wasn’t giving him anything but near-relief. “Can you grab the STUFF from under the end table?” he asked. And I instantly knew why my very smart attorney husband had picked the guest room.

I got off the bed in a vault, just as Jon went back to work on his horsecock training. Dak moaned loud and plaintively, which made me snicker. I looked inside under the night stand on the side I was on, but there was nothing there. On the other side of the bed, though, was the treasure trove in the form of a basket full of about twelve different sizes and styles of condoms and a few bottles and tubes of lube. The basket had a sign in it that Jim had made on the computer which said, simply, “Enjoy.” Simply, except that the J was a big hardon! LOL

Bounding back on the bed I threw more than set the basket on the bed, causing most of the contents to fall and roll around the roiling surface among us. Instead of going back to work on Dak, I got under Jon and began sucking his arced fuckhorn with gusto. DAMN he tasted GOOD . . . very manly, sweaty from his exertions sucking Jim’s big cock and earthy like a man should taste. Not that Dak didn’t taste good, his was just more middle-of-the-road than Jon . . . or me or Jim for that matter. Jon’s response to my sucking was to start hammering his cock into my throat, the head barely clearing into it, unlike I’m used to with my husband going halfway to my gullet. And his moans and growls were urgent and aggressive around Jim’s thick fuckpole.

Things were getting away from us – we were all getting over-excited, or at least Dak and Jon were; I was just READY to get to the next portion of our fun, though Jim was obviously enjoying giving Dak’s face a lapdance despite his request for supplies. I pulled off Jon with a slurp and grabbed him by his nuts forcefully enough to slow down his ascent. “OK, men, time for some REAL action!:”

Jim bounded off Dak’s face and waved his ass at me. “Do the honors?”

Jon’s surprise had turned on a dime to wonder and excitement. “You mean, you’re going to let us . . . “ he asked and then trailed off.

Dak, who was swiping at his saliva- and sweat-drenched face and neck sputtered something like, “Huh, what?”

I already had a glob of BoyButter and was generously lubing Jim’s very-ready fuckhole. “We’re going to have us a Ranger triple-decker, men,” I declared as Jim moaned and worked into my three and then four fingers inside his hole, all the while he was gripping and milking my fingers with his talented cuntring. “Last chance to declare if you’re not up for raw fucking,” I called and took a moment to make serious eye contact – what Jim calls my “command glare” – with first Dak and then over my shoulder to Jon.

“We’re totally clean, I swear,” Dak quickly said, and he was stroking his drooling cock.

“Verified,” Jon affirmed definitively, also rubbing his throbbing, slobbery cock.

Dak started to move around, and I pushed on his hard cut groin to steady him. “You’re the bottom slice of bread in the Ranger sandwich.”

Jim needed no further encouragement, and he easily mounted Dak’s upward-jutting cock and bounced down until he was crushing Dak’s pubs with no more than a long, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Then Dak growled and yelled, “FUCK YEAH!” and I could see Jim working his cuntmagic on Dak’s cock, milking him. I just smiled. He could probably crush a Vienna sausage with that fuckring of his even though he’d been taking my eight inch circumference fuckclub all these years.

“Now you Jon,” I ordered, pushing Jim down so that he was laying over Dak, his hole accessible. “Get up here and mount my husband!”

Jon, wide-eyed, didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed a glob of BoyButter as he got into position, straddling both Dak’s and Jim’s legs and pushing up against the point of contact between the two. A softly murmured “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” came from him as he pressed his cock against Dak’s, his pronounced upward curve working in his favor as he pressed against Jim’s filled hole too. Jim moved up until he had only Dak’s cockhead inside him and then barked, “Get it up there and hold it!”

Jon looked at me, and I motioned for him to get to it. He shifted forward and over Jim’s back and pressed his cock hard against Dak’s, his head at the point of connection between the two men. And then Jim pushed back, taking Jon in with a visual but inaudible pop of his fuckpucker. All three of them growled and yowled. Jim pushed back farther and took the length of both of them, while all three uttered lauditory obscenities.

As I got myself moving around them to get my cock up over Dak’s face so my husband could take it down his throat I said, “Jon, shove yourself all the way into his fuckhole – ALL THE WAY!”

Jon looked wider-eyed, but with a sharp thrust he did, causing Jim to grunt and moan loud and long. “FUCK!” Jim exclaimed, and that was the last he could exclaim because when his mouth was open I shoved my cock against his lips. As he always did, he opened immediately and sucked me in and allowed me to press my way beyond his tight opening to his throat and put his tongue out to catch my sweaty sac.

“Now ride those cocks, husband! You boys be prepared for the cock-mastery that is to COME,” I told them with a smile, as Jim was already beginning to rise and then shoved back and down again with loud grunts.

I went to work on his throat, holding him by his throat and really skull-fucking him in time to his giddyup motions on the two men’s cocks filling him.

“HOLY FUCK HOW can he DO that?!?!” Dak struggled to get out among moans. “It feels like his ass has a grip on my cock and Jons,” he panted.

Jon had planted his hands on Jim’s shoulders and was enjoying Jim riding him, keeping his balance, and his face was already miles away, thrown back in ecstasy.

Jim started riding them harder, which frankly interrupted my stroke rhythm in his throat, but I didn’t mind because the other guys’ moans, expletives and cries were continuous and getting even louder as Jim really worked their cocks. When Jim started rotating – what my stepson calls twerking – on their cocks, both of them started to spasm and scream.

“OH FUCK – OHFUCK!” and “JESUSFUCK!” and the like were coming from both men and then, “FUCK I’M GONNA” and “I’m about to OH FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” and both were spasming and thrashing about and crying out. I knew they were both filling my husband’s fuckchannel with their hot spunk.

When both Jon and Dak were pleading with Jim to stop working their now-oversensitive spent cocks, he pulled off my cock and growled at me, “Finish me off – I need your stallion cock studding me!”

That went straight to my nuts and cock, and I started to move around as he released them and dismounted so quickly that they both cried out in surprise. He flopped over on his back next to Dak, practically bucking Jon off the bed.

As I was getting around and in position to fill my husband’s cummy cunt, Jon was scrambling for balance and jammed into me inadvertently. I was suddenly off-balance and falling more than I should have been, tumbling and out of control, clutching out into the air . . .

“BABE! Wake up!” Jim’s voice broke through my consciousness, and I realized I was struggling on our bed, laying back in his arms, which were getting a workout holding me while I thrashed about. “Whatever that dream was, it must have been good . . . at least until I disturbed you, but we’re going to be late,” he told me, rubbing my chest with one hand and my abs with another, holding me tight against him. Then he knocked my raging hardon with the back of his hand. “Looks like we’re GOING to be late – that fuckstick of yours never takes no for an answer!”

My head was finally sorting it out . . . that I’d been dreaming . . . but I was still unable to respond as my thoughts swirled and my mind desperately tried to catch up. Jim didn’t help when he abruptly grabbed my cock and started pumping it and then, just as suddenly maneuvered himself out from under and behind me, hocked a big load of spit into his hand and reached around to his ass as he moved himself over my proudly standing fuckpole.

As my husband was mounting my cock, taking in my over-nine-inches of fat fuckmeat, my previously clearing thoughts went all jumbled again, focused solely on the connection with my husband. His already-cummy hole, slicked now with his spit, the perfect coupling my horsecock and his tight mancunt make together, the sublime feeling of him lowering himself down onto me, tightly forcing me into him . . . it all took me into that place where all there is but him and me. His grunted, “FUCK you’re a fucking stallion! Even with all the seed you’ve pumped into me already this morning you make me feel like you’re going to split me wide open,” as he pushed down that last couple of inches clashed with my one last stray coherent thought forced its way into my head: I wonder if those two hot guys who were at CrossFit last Saturday will be there today . . . if we ever get there!



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