A Service Tech Goes The Extra Mile For The Judge and the Marine

A Service Tech Goes The Extra Mile For The Judge and the Marine

by BillyC [email protected]

It was midafternoon, Friday, and my husband was at home, so I was thinking about hitting the gym early and then getting home to him early. His Honor is on voluntary furlough during the government shutdown . . . and he's also recuperating from shoulder reconstruction, which has him in a sling for weeks on end — as he puts it, not the right kind of sling. He's pretty stoic about it most of the time, but I know that not being able to  drive or workout, not being able to run, swim, bike or even fuck in all the positions he loves, all of those, though not necessarily in equal significance, were annoying him, to say the least.

The text surprised me, as I was thinking about him right then, about maybe bailing on the gym myself to get home even earlier. 

From Jim to me: the security guy propositioned me; says i look like i could use some extra-special service!

Interesting! I thought. As I pondered my reply I punched up our home security system - the very system the technician was there to checkout due to some network alerts Thursday evening. I went to the entry cams and found the motion-annotated frames and saw that the tech who'd gone out to the house was one of the partners himself, an exceptionally hot - and expertly capable - man I'd served with at NATO.

From me to Jim: You know Avi's a hot as fuck stud -- what are you waiting for?

From Jim to me: who says i'm waiting?

From me to Jim: You're a great multitasker, but texting while fucking isn't one of your greatest talents. The absence of typos is telling.

From Jim to me: back on topic... i know this is a stupid question but would you mind if... i... dot-dot-dotted?

I guffawed at the reference. Both of us rabid ABBA fans, the Mamma Mia! reference was such a thing between us, that my already stiffening cock -- at the thought of my husband and the hot Israeli ex-Mossad officer -- felt like an electric jolt from my roiling nuts shot the length of me . . . which was increasing quickly and painfully in my slacks.

As I worked my personal Surface and navigated the private cam records of the interior my mind wandered to Avi. Tall for an Israeli, but that's where the uncharacteristics ended. Dark hair, cropped short, five-o'clock shadow that looked more like permanent shadow, prominent but very becoming nose, piercing dark eyes, a build every bit as perfect as it was more than fifteen years before in Belgium, a bulge in his tight chinos that would command attention from straight men and a bubble butt that in itself could make my dick stiff. The images on the UHD recording and my memory of steamy, sweaty times with Avi back then had merged in my consciousness because he hadn't changed a damn bit. I knew that, having seen him more than a few times as we redid the security at Jim's house after I moved in, but having him offer assistance of a very personal nature to Jim had me focusing on the more appealing and savory aspects of my long-time friend.

I forced myself to focus.

From me to Jim: Not only would I not mind, I'd fucking love it. Boring afternoon after the excitement of earlier in the week. I know I don't have to remind you to ask him to agree to FaceTiming me while you do it . . . 

I watched the screen as Jimmy grinned and thumbed his iPhone, and I saw him call out something. The message came in as I watched Avi return to the study where Jimmy was sitting.

From Jim to me: roger that!

I saw Avi's glance stray almost imperceptibly to directly into one of two the hidden cameras in the room as Jim stood and spoke close to him, the smirk that stokes my nuts in the most benign of circumstances playing on my husband's model handsome face. Avi's hand went to the tented crotch of Jim's yoga pants - no judgments on the attire of the sidelined, recuperating guy! - and brushed along the length of him, his own visage alternating between a smirk and a grin. Then I saw his face light up, another less concealed glance at the camera and clearly an enthusiastic assent. I put some attention to Jim's lips moving, and I read him saying, with his own lascivious grin, "Right here, right now."

As I watched, Jimmy punched in on his phone, and my phone came to life with a FaceTime. At the same time I'd just sent a message on my work keyboard to my assistant that I was not to be disturbed, and I watched my office doors soundlessly close as a result of his buttons for that purpose. 

Avi's grinning, handsome face appeared aside my husband's - and I'll admit for a moment I had a thought about what a handsome couple they would have made as opposed to my movie star handsome husband with me, an old, world weary Marine. "Wish you were here," Avi mugged, in his thick accent. Jim chimed in. "Really, babe - wish you were here!" Avi tosseled Jim's sun-bleached hair. "Yeah, BABE," Avi singsonged. 

My thoughts fractured into multiple threads, one of them being Jim's hair almost translucent in the Hawaiian sun, where we'd just spend three weeks. Magnificent! "I'm right there with you, courtesy of Apple," I replied lamely.

As Avi was pulling his shirt off, Jim blew me a kiss too close to the phone camera, and he was walked to the fireplace and positioning the iPhone so that there was a view of both of the leather sofas facing eachother . I could see Avi's progress in the frame - his chinos and boxer briefs being pushed down to expose his magnificent cut cock, heavy balls and neatly trimmed but thick coal black bush. For good measure, he bent over completely to get them off, exposing his hairy buttglobes and the hole I remembered as so very welcoming when we were both far from home all those years before. The scars visible through his pelt on his torso, left arm and right leg all reemphasized my recollection of our shared history. 

Jim appeared back in the frame as I made myself comfortable and opened my slacks. My filthy jockstrap I'd chosen that day was stretched all out of proportion, my cock looking like it was wearing the pouch as a chapeau, and it was already wet through with my precum. I freed myself completely as I watched Jim drop his yoga pants and take a comfortable position on the sofa, legs splayed for Avi's ease of access. 

Avi took a moment and turned toward the iPhone. "ESH! EIZE SERET!" Neither my husband nor I speak Hebrew - I only knew it wasn't Arabic and made the assumption that it was Avi’s native tongue. 

Ah, Avi’s talented, hungry, demanding tongue. How many times had that tongue coaxed massive loads out of my swollen nuts back in NATO days? Fortunately Avi's exclamation morphed to English as he turned his attention back to Jim, and his words registered and brought me back as well. 

"I knew Billy is hung huge, but you two men are a matched set!" he said, settling himself on his knees between Jim's, and he addressed Jim's cock, not him, when he continued. "It has been too long since I have had a challenge like you," he said, almost reverently, reaching out and hefting Jim's heavy sac.

I could almost feel Avi's breath as he bent down and took Jimmy's still barely floppy cock in his mouth as it flopped up when he'd grabbed his nuts. Jim reacted as one does when a mouth captures his knob -- his head lolled back as his mouth first smiled. When he returned his attention to his cocksucker, he was grinning . . . and then looked directly over to the iPhone. "You told me you'd fucked him, but—" he told me. Then he gasped, and his head lolled again, as Avi's head plunged face-first into his heather colored pubes. With a strained voice I recognized well as Jim attempting to keep his focus -- or keep quiet -- while either his cock, balls, nips, cunt or neck were in play, he finished. "But you didn't tell me” “he was a master sword swallower!" 

I chuckled at that. "Why would I have mentioned that when I have THE master cocksucker of all cocksuckers as my husband?? Enjoy!" And while I could see he was enjoying, as I wanted him to be, I admit to a pang of possessive jealousy as I watched my longtime friend and former brother in arms going at my husband's cock with a gusto of pure lustful appreciation. "And Avi, for Chrissake, do justice to my Adonis of a husband!" I added.

Avi momentarily removed the hand that had been on Jim's muscular quads and gave me a thumbs up, then went back to his efforts. And Jimmy, apparently following my instruction carefully, moved both his hands from where his arms had been outstretched along the back of the sofa and took his cocksucker's head in a good grip and began thrusting into him. "Yeah, take my husband's cock, you fuckn cocksucking pig!" I encouraged - a bit too loud, for being in my office.

Avi's forearms were across Jim's sturdy quads, with the purpose of steadying himself without holding on, and with the effect of spreading out his impressive back so that I could see — in profile only, sadly — his taut upper back musculature. Even at that angle, the sharp vector down to his very narrow waist was well-evidenced, and his world-class, hairy bubble butt jutting out was a thing of beauty. I wanted to see Jim fuck him within an inch of his life . . . wanted to hear the stream of Hebrew epithets he would spew as I remembered fucking him long, deep and hard. All in good time . . . 

Jim was really skullfucking him, and Avi wasn't shrinking from the assault. He was grunting and groaning, and his body was jolting. He was coughing, gagging and choking. But he wasn't giving in to any reflex to back up or to try to minimize the rough use of his mouth. I could see he maintained his grip on Jim's big, hairy nutsac, giving it admirable squeezes, yanks, twists and manipulations that I knew were stoking his load toward the boiling point. Oh, how I remembered cold days in wintry Brussels and that talented mouth and throat warming the core of me.

For my own enjoyment, not yet certain if I was going to drop a wad or just work myself up through the viewing pleasure of my husband using one of the hottest bitches we know, I was rubbing my own nuts slowly and languidly. I was forcing myself to remain throttled . . . my cock steely hard and jutting out, substantial precum having already been emitted and puddling on my upper abs where I’d unbuttoned the expensive shirt I was wearing courtesy of my discerning husband’s great fashion sense. I wanted so badly to be the one working Jimmy's nutsac, having long ago mastered the art of controlling his buildup to climax with just his sac and its venerable contents as a throttle. 

As a matter of informational significance, Avi's sac itself was pretty well filled and impressive . . . and hairy . . . and hung nice and low, as it did now, swinging invitingly between his wide-spread knees as Avi bobbed up and down the 10” length of him. As I continued to watch my husband throatfuck him, I remembered the first time I'd fucked Avi, and the reaction he had when I first took his nuts in a deathgrip and squeezed hard enough to make most men scream with pain. Not Avi, a trained killer at least equal to my level of toughness. No — Avi growled and snarled simultaneously, as he reached up and clamped his own strong, muscular hand around my throat and bored into my eyes with his, challengingly. We both increased our grips, our intensity of stares, and, most importantly, our fuck and fuckback velocity . . . and maintained that until I was near giving in . . . just before my climax erupted inside me with all the force of a planet destroying earthquake. It was so violent that I almost hadn’t felt him writhing and spasming, and his load splattering off my legs as I pumped out into him. Afterward, after another few rounds, when we were about to begin shivering to warm us from the winter cold after laying in sweat soaked sheets while we regained ourselves, Avi said, in what I would later learn was his very quirky humor, "Do not get any woman's ideas when I tell you that I intend to do that — all of this — again . . . and again!" For two military officers, who'd already broken code by the mere acts, the suggestion of repeating was almost as antithetical as it was unavoidable . . . after the kind of fuck we'd just had. I couldn't quite remember how or when or why we stopped . . . 

"Where should I” “blow my nutt, babe?" Jim suddenly turned to the iPhone and breathlessly asked me. 

My first instinct, stealing a glance at the Surface screen, which gave me a split view of the room, neither being the same angle as the iPhone, one of which was a dead on view of Avi's hairy crack and often visible winking pucker, was to yell SEED HIM! because I wanted that hole stretched, sore, swollen and, most of all, full to sloppy and running with Jim's heavy cumload. But I also didn't want the action to be over too soon.

"Just USE the bitch, babe, to YOUR maximum enjoyment!" I sputtered and for good measure I waived my cock at him in salute.

"You're gonna fuckn take my load — every fuckn gulp of it!" Jimmy growled to his cocksucker, still slamming himself into Avi's face with sufficient force to give rise to worry for his nose and perhaps cranium. 

I'd taught Jim that — to just FUCK . . . as hard and as fast and as deep as he wanted to, without worrying about what some bitch was comfortable with. When you're the Alpha, the beta wants to be used . . . NEEDS to be USED! I'd taught him that by example, our first afternoon, when I'd warned him and then had followed-through with what he still says was the best fuck he'd had up until that point in his life. Not that he'd been a bitch often, actually — more often he’d been the Alpha. But I’d claimed him that day. I told him that if we started — WHEN we started — all possibility of tapping out was off the table until we were done with each other — that's the way I fuck, and I wasn’t usually done with just one wad blown. 

He'd obviously learned well, lo these six and a half years, and he was giving it to Avi so hard the security consultant's muscles were roiling from the intensity of his effort to remain in position without being knocked backward across the room. His grunts and cries were louder and continuous, too, though they were clearly far from distress, well in the realm of bitch heaven!

Suddenly I saw the signs I knew well. Jimmy's beautiful musculature going rigid, his pubes ground into Avi's face, his knuckles on the back of the bitch's head white . . . and then the dam breaking and his head being thrown back with a long "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" and the muscles in his groin twitching as he began to blast his seed.

Avi held position, but his body went progressively more rigid as he was held fast during Jim’s long pumpout, his left arm banging his hand on Jim's thigh as the time drew out until he began to resist and to attempt to pull off, his face having passed bright red and going paler again. Jim finally let him go with a hard push that nearly set Avi reeling as he gasped and sucked in air - but the ex Mossad agent was as agile and nimble as he had been 20 years before and he held position on his knees, though bracing himself on Jim's knees.

"GIVE ME YOUR COCK!" Jim ordered.

"NO, I'd rather--" Avi began to protest.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO AS HE ORDERED YOU TO DO, BITCH!" I barked, once again louder than I should have in my office.

Avi's body veritably snapped as he processed the command and did as he was told, jumping to attention in front of  Jim.  Jimmy was already leaning forward and grasping Avi's veiny fuckrod as he straightened and jutted it forward. Jim was on it immediately, swallowing, slurping, diving balls deep, then slurping all over the engorged head.

"I won't-- I can't--" Avi struggled to get out before he blurted something in Hebrew I didn't catch beyond guttural gasps, and then I heard Jim enthusiastically moaning and gulping as Avi's body spasmed until he finally was fighting Jim off his overly sensitized cock and laughing as his slimy cock popped free and hung out and down, fat and dripping. I couldn't remember ever seeing Avi laugh so hard. It softened his edges a bit . . . in a good way.

"GUTE GOTT!" he exclaimed, when he was free of Jim's very effective lips. I didn’t know if it was his accent or Hebrew, but I knew that meant the same either way  

Jim was grinning and wiping his lips, but I could tell he hadn't swallowed ALL of it. "Present your cunt to him!" I barked, with less volume than before. Avi didn't hesitate and turned then bent over away from Jim. Jim was IN Avi's hairy crack face first immediately, then Avi was moaning, and I knew that Jim's tongue was opening him so that he could spit Avi's own cum into his fuckhole as lube. 

From my vantage points, I enjoyed seeing Avi's tool, which had gone to half mast or below, reharden as Jim's very talented tongue enjoyed the wonders of Avi's cunt. How well I remembered his sweaty, tasty, tight —  even after taking my horsecock the better part of that winter — mancunt of his. "C'mon, we'll have dinner later," I joked to Jim. "Get to fucking the bitch!" I urged.

Jimmy didn't make me wait. "Condoms!" he snapped, not quite having committed to giving up the pleasures of Avi's crack, his lips less than an inch from his hole as he did.

"Don't have 'em — PrEP." Avi fired back. "Clean, too — insurance requirement, frequent tests. If you want to use one, I'm okay, though — you'll have to use your own," he added practically . . . and breathlessly. 

Jim was standing suddenly, but instead of heading out of the room to where where we still had a strip from a prior playsession with a visiting bitch — Jesus, more than a year before! — he was moving Avi around so that he was bent over, hands on the back of the sofa, kicking the stud’s feet so they were planted in a wide stance in front of it, and he was in and behind him lining up head to hole. Good choice, Jimmy!

"FUCK ME!" Avi's voice was challenging more than inviting.

And Jim did. A loud "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" from Avi as Jim SHOVED in. I enjoyed Avi's muscles tensing and rippling as he took the pain and Jim's assmuscles contracting with his strong thighs as he drove inside him, holding the bitch at the waist for purchase. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK that's deep!" Avi grunted through panted breaths. 

"Too deep for you, boy?" I taunted him.

Avi gave a snort. "You just see what happens if he tries to fuck me any way BUT that deep!" he shot back. 

Jim didn't. He slammed into him, causing both of their taut bodies to ripple with each impact and causing Avi to try to stifle a cry as he had Jimmy’s BIG cockhead boring its way 10 1/4" deep inside his guts with every stroke. Both their balls swung wildly — and very pleasingly — as Jim picked up the pace and pushed down on the bitch's lower back to arch his ass up more.

Two exemplary specimens of manhood. One mine — gloriously and totally mine — fucking into each other on the screens made me rethink my own slow simmer approach, and for a moment I thought about stroking one out. But honestly, the high of watching my husband fuck the daylights out of a stud — even if I wasn't there to smell and taste their sweat and cum — was greater than any I could get from a climax of my own alone in my office. 

At some point Jim manhandled Avi around to a library table, threw him onto his back on the edge of it, roughly remounted the bitch and fucked him with renewed vigor standing at the edge. Good thing that table was strong enough — i knew from careful testing! — I'd joked that if we were ever in that room when an incoming missile was approaching, we could get under that table and be assured of shelter. Because Jim was fucking Avi ferociously. I didn't understand any of what Avi was shouting in his native language, but it was clearly appreciative.

When Jim shoved Avi's knees back to the bitch's chest, stood on his tiptoes and began really DRIVING into his cunt, the noise, the grunts, the panting and the sweat flying all redoubled in intensity. If I'd so much as touched my cock I probably would have shot across the office as my husband fucked himself and Avi both up to their second nuttings. He'd had to bat Avi's hand from Avi’s rockhard, straining, drooling cock twice and had ordered him to not touch himself the second time. Avi's cock flapped and waved in erratic arcs in the air, precum flowing, sometimes dripping, sometimes splattering.

"CUM FOR HIM, BITCH!" I found myself ordering into my phone. 

Avi's head snapped toward the iPhone and for just a split second looked confused. Then he began grinding his ass into Jim's groin as he slammed into him, and within a moment — literally a moment — Avi's head was banging against the redwood tabletop and he was gibbering while his cock spewed a very respectable spray of his jizz all over himself. 

"OH FUCK YES!" Jimmy cried out and didn't ask me that time where he should put his load. He just planted himself and then convulsed with every blast out into Avi, who moaned like the bitch he is as he took every bit. 

Jim slumped over Avi, his cropped blond hair just touching Avi's pecs for a moment after he'd finished. Avi lay lifeless except for the vigorous heaving of his chest as he caught his own breath. 

I watched as Jim finally regained himself and stood, then slowly began to slide out of Avi's cunt, giving me a full view of the length of him reappearing. ALWAYS a beautiful sight, I was aware again of how much my nuts ached for release . . . and how much I was going to enjoy doing that when I got home to my husband.

Then, when Jim finally plopped free, accompanied by a gasp and curse from Avi, he said loud, so I knew he was addressing me, "I know you said we'd have dinner later, but I want a snack now," and he grabbed Avi”s sweaty calves, threw his legs up and drove them back again and plunged his face into Avi's slimy crack. Avi was moaning and writhing like a bitch again . . . and Jimmy was going at his cummy cunt again with more gusto than when he'd lubed him before the fuck. 

Jim gave it an excellent go, and Avi was stroking his cock — again mostly hard after flagging — with a fervor that could have been damaging had a stroke gone wrong. When Jim suddenly pulled back and stood up, Avi cried out in a plaintiff, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, don't stop! I'm nearly--"

"You finish without me. Use your fingers if you want. I'm going to get one of my plugs to lend you. You'll wear it until we tell you that you can take it out."

"I know you've got a third load, Avi . . . unless you're not the man I remember, that is!" I taunted Avi.

Avi planted his heels on the edge of the table and thrusted his groin up into his strokes as Jim left the room, having turned his head to gaze directly into my view from one of the room's security cameras. He knew where every one was on our property — he'd designed the system with me — and I watched him change arms and stroke with his right now, so that I could see his muscles flex and the full length of his cock as he stroked.

"You haven't been fucked like that for a long time, have you, buddy?"

A strangled, "NO!" was all Avi replied, the cords on his neck taut. He was close.

"You didn't expect to be fucked today, or if you did, not by a ten inch cock of the husband of one of your friends, did you?"

Another, more strained, clipped “No!" His hand blurred on the camera it was jacking himself so fast.

"And you fuckn needed it, didn't you? You needed to be a REAL man's bitch. To take a REAL man's cock, didn't you? You fuck lesser men, but you crave a true Alpha to use that well trained cunt, don't you?" I continued nonstop.

"NNNNNGGGGGGYes!" he finally got out. "I DO! You're the only--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND CUM!" I growled.

And he did. Just as Jim returned and licked one of his biggest buttplugs to get it wet, Avi's strangled cries went silent for a moment while his entire body seized, and then he broke into convulsions and spasms as he pumped out his seed onto his hairy chest and neck and abs. It was, truly, a beautiful sight. And few men on the planet knew that Avi, this seemingly Alpha, type A stud, was really just a bitch that craved his own Alpha. Like Jimmy, when I met him. 

We both watched the incredible sight of him pumping then coming down. I was about to quietly tell Jim to plug him when he did it before I could say it. Avi grunted and cursed something and then looked again at the camera he knew was there and said, "You plug him with THIS? It is like an aubergine." 

Jimmy and I both laughed. Jim is the one who said, "It's Billy's size, if you don't remember. Think of us while you keep it in tonight and when you use it in the future, because we KNOW you will!”

"Enjoyed it, men. And Jimmy?" Jim looked to the iPhone, and I had to shunt my gaze back there. "You're welcome." I blew him a kiss for good measure, then disconnected right as Jimmy's face and extended tongue touched down on Avi's sweat-soaked pelt to make use of that last load, before any more namby pamby afterglow and goodbyes. 

I went into my private bathroom, my cock hard as a lead pipe, bobbing and swaying out my open slacks as I walked, having to hold my cupped palm under my drooling head. Again I considered rubbing one out. And again I thought NAH . . . about fifty times that my nuts threw up the suggestion as I stripped, showered, dried and redressed to resume the remainder of my workday. I was pretty proud of my self control!

Guys, it's been a while since I've posted anything, but it wasn't because I don't still encourage everyone to support GayDemon. After the Verizon Tumblr destruction, we should keep in mind that our avenues for self-expression of our very natural male appreciation for males and man on man lusts are being restricted, and GayDemon is one of those precious spaces we can express ourselves. Support GayDemon. And support and show your appreciation to Bjorn, without whose efforts, this space would wither and die. He's damn sexy, too, just sayin'!

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