The Receiving End
Adrian had much to contemplate his first time home. Harvard academia, the prestige of being admitted into Alpha Pi Delta, Division1 gymnastics, his relationship with his mentor, not least of which was the unexpected turn it took the last night of the semester. But surprisingly, the one that should have left him reeling felt most right. He’d never given gay sex a moment’s notice; in Millhaven it simply didn’t exist. He’d had two experiences with high school girls his age which, in comparison to his one night with Darius, was like comparing a Chevy Cavalier to a bullet train. They both got you where you wanted to go, but one was basic transportation, the other a life-changing experience.
Upon returning for the Winter semester, Darius eagerly leaned in to their new level of intimacy, which was everything Adrian had spent the holiday trying not to want. The dinners continued, always capped with Darius expecting and demanding to be fucked. And consistent with his commitment to Adrian’s mentorship, each experience was treated as a learning experience for his protégé. What Adrian was slower to admit, even to himself, was that the sex, extraordinary as it was, was not the part of the evenings he thought about most. What he thought about most was the hours before it. The dinner. The conversation. Darius’s attention when Adrian said something that surprised him. He had no word for what he was feeling. He told himself it was gratitude. He told himself it was admiration. Both were true. Neither was sufficient.
What was notable, but remained unsaid, was that Darius always bottomed and trained Adrian to be a top, which was fine with Adrian who had no interest in receiving. He didn't doubt how pleasurable it was for Darius, and presumably other men, but nothing remotely surpassed the intensity of taking him, particularly as Darius trained him to last longer.
And because Adrian had virtually no experience in gay subculture, he wasn’t burdened with the assumption that topping was typically synonymous with being the Alpha in the relationship, because if he had, he’d be utterly confused. There was no question who called the shots, and it was Darius.
So the relationship continued undisturbed. Darius the mentor in all things, including sex, and Adrian the willing pupil.
* * *
The invitation arrived in February, via text, a command, not a request:
Spring break. My apartment in Manhattan. Last week of April.
Adrian didn’t hesitate to say yes.
The apartment was on the Upper West Side, twelve floors up with a view of Central Park that Adrian stood at the window looking at for a full minute trying to absorb the fact that this was a place where a person could live. It was larger than his family’s farmhouse and considerably better furnished, the work of the same cultivated taste as the Cambridge townhouse but on a scale that the Cambridge townhouse had been practicing for.
“Your parents own this too?” Adrian said.
“My father bought it when I was twelve,” Darius said, from the kitchen, where he was already moving with the comfortable efficiency of someone on his own territory. “He said Manhattan real estate was the only investment that never disappointed him. He’s a brain surgeon. He’s not wrong about many things.”
The first two days were the city itself. Darius walked him through it the way he walked him through everything, with authority and paternal respect, pointing out what mattered and letting the rest speak for itself. The Lower East Side on a Thursday evening, showing him the delights of places like the Tenement Museum and Essex Market.
Darius saved the West Village for Friday night which was the first time Adrian had been in a neighborhood which was openly, uncomplicatedly gay, and where nobody looked at him twice for being there with a man who was clearly not his cousin. He felt something in him that confirmed the unexpected comfort he had with his relationship with Darius. It wasn’t just the life-altering sex. It was an orientation, a world view. And although he’d have to someday explain it to Millhaven, Indiana, he was entirely at home in that environment.
Darius’s friends were precisely who Adrian had expected them to be: ambitious, cultured, opinionated, entirely comfortable in their own identities. Several were black, nearly all were gay, and all were old enough to understand the concept and had never had to apologize for it. Adrian, who had grown up in a town in which standing out was managed rather than celebrated, found them bracing and outright intoxicating.
Marcus Webb. Darius introduced him as “Marcus, my oldest friend, insufferable in most respects”, was thirty, also black, and had the physique of a man who took the gym seriously and the wardrobe of a man who applied the same rigor to his wardrobe. So, it didn’t surprise Adrian to learn he ran a men’s retail concept on Bleecker Street called Strand that had been written about in GQ the previous year in terms glowingly crediting Marcus for its success. The store occupied a converted townhouse and sold clothing with the philosophy that men deserved to be dressed as well as women had always been dressed, which sounds simple and is not.
Without knowing why, Adrian asked Marcus for a tour of the store who was more than willing to comply. It was his baby, his favorite subject, and he appropriately took full credit for its success. Marcus walked Adrian through it on a Saturday afternoon who felt the unmistakable sensation of a piece clicking into place. He had not thought about retail before, men’s fashion wasn’t even a “thing” and had been vaguely pre-med for reasons that had more to do with his family’s ambitions than with a personal conviction. But watching Marcus move through the store, talking about fabric and fit and the way a well-made garment communicated something about the man wearing it that the man couldn’t entirely communicate himself, Adrian felt something that was not intellectual interest alone. It was recognition. The same recognition he’d felt in Darius’s bedroom in December, of a room in the house he hadn’t known was there.
“You’re actually listening,” Marcus said, looking at him with mild surprise.
“I can’t not listen,” Adrian said. “This is fascinating.”
“Most people smile and nod,” Marcus said. He studied Adrian for a moment with appraising directness. “Darius said you were something. I’m revising upward.”
They continued to talk about retail, men’s fashion, access to capital, building a brand, payroll, every possible element of Marcus’s business and Adrian was endlessly fascinated. The time flew and he knew he’d found his calling. Pre-med? Hell no. Economics? Retail had an element of it, but retail was real world, not theoretical. It dawned on him that in eight short months he had been radically transformed from a naïve Midwestern boy to an urban, academic, unapologetically gay near-sophisticate.
Sensing Adrian’s enthusiasm, Marcus miscalculated, thinking Adrian’s passion was focused on Darius, and not the totality of his new life. He stopped the conversation somewhat abruptly and said, “There’s something we need to talk about”.
Coming out of nowhere, Adrian was shocked, “Of course,” he replied.
Wasting no time, Marcus continued, “It’s Darius”, and paused allowing Adrian to fill in the dead air.
Still not knowing where this was going, Adrian remained silent, but with a quizzical look on his face.
“Two things”, Marcus continued. “Both important because I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
“Ok….?” Adrian waited.
“First, don’t fall in love with him. Darius has made it clear he’s not interested in a committed relationship with a man. I’m not exactly sure why, my guess is that he’s planning on a high-profile career in corporate America and being openly gay could be a problem. And I share this with you from personal experience. You know how close Darius and I are, and I made that mistake. I almost lost our friendship over it, but we worked through it.”
Adrian was quiet for a moment longer than the response required. He told himself it was because the warning had come out of nowhere. The words don’t fall in love with him created an unwelcome tightening in his chest he couldn’t explain. He pretended it was that the comment came out of nowhere, but he knew better.
“Good to know,” he said. He meant it. He was working on meaning it.
“So what’s the second thing?” he asked.
Marcus paused, indicating this was even more of a deal breaker. “Darius values personal loyalty higher than everything else, especially with people like you who he mentors. Never, and I mean never, do anything to betray Darius. I’ve seen it happen and the person who did paid a steep price.”
This, at least, was solid ground. Whatever complicated and unnamed thing he was feeling about the first warning, this one was simple. “That’s good to know,” Adrian responded. “On both counts.” Smiling, he added, “I’ll manage my romantic expectations, and I can absolutely promise I’ll never be a source of betrayal to him.” He responded to Marcus believing he was 100% truthful. He would remember this conversation, and his certainty in this moment, for the rest of his life. Not because he had been lying. Because he had been so certain he was telling the truth.
Smiling, Marcus pulled Adrian into his side and put his arm around him as they walked. “I knew you’d understand….both.” As they continued to walk, he gave Adrian’s shoulder a squeeze and said, “Damn, boy, you’re as solid as Darius said you were. He calls you his perfect little block of marble. I think I’ll call you that too.”
Adrian couldn’t help but lean into Marcus as he said that. He couldn’t believe the world that was unfolding in front of him.
Finally, Marcus added, “Darius has a big night planned for us tonight. The three of us…” leaving the emphasis on the word three burn a hole in Adrian’s imagination.
* * *
That evening the three of them had dinner in the West Village where the tables were close enough that conversation from other tables arrived whether invited or not, which nobody seemed to mind. The wine was good and the food was better and Marcus and Darius had the easy, slightly combative rhythm of two men who had been arguing with each other for a decade and found it one of life’s more reliable pleasures.
The restaurant Darius had chosen was in the West Village and they were shown to a corner table. Darius ordered wine without consulting the list, Marcus settled into his chair completely comfortable in his own skin, and Adrian sat between them and sensed that the evening had an agenda he hadn’t been briefed on.
It was Marcus who lobbed the first serve of tonight’s unknown topic. The confidence with which he did it continued to amaze Adrian with this new world he’d landed in.
“We were talking about you today,” Marcus said, over the first course. “Before you arrived.”
“Should I be concerned?” Adrian said.
“Quite the opposite,” Darius said, looking at Adrian with a curious half smile. “Marcus and I were discussing your education.”
“I thought that was going well,” Adrian said.
“It is,” Darius said. “We’re discussing the next phase.”
Marcus refilled Adrian’s wine with enough intention to signal him to relax. “You’ve been an excellent student,” Marcus said as he poured. “By all accounts.” He glanced at Darius with an expression that contained an entire conversation. “Technically proficient. Enthusiastic. A natural, really.”
“I’m going to assume you’re talking about retail,” Adrian said.
“Of course,” Marcus said, without missing a beat. “What else would we be talking about?”
Darius smiled into his glass.
“The thing about retail,” Marcus continued, almost as if rehearsed, “is that the best practitioners understand the product from every angle. You can’t truly appreciate what you’re selling unless you’ve experienced it completely. Both sides of the transaction.”
“The seller…” Darius interrupted, “…and the buyer.”
“Exactly,” Marcus said. “Most people specialize too early. They find something they’re good at, say, the sell side, and they stay there. They get very good at it. But they never develop the full understanding that comes from experiencing the other side…the buyer.” He paused. “It limits them.”
Adrian looked between them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the conversation was doing two things at once and he was only tracking one of them. “I take it you both have experience on both sides,” he asked.
“Extensive,” Marcus said.
“It changes everything,” Darius said. Simply, sincerely, which was somehow more disorienting than the irony. “I didn’t understand what I was doing until I understood what it felt like to be on the receiving end of it.”
“The receiving end,” Adrian questioned.
“Of excellent service,” Darius said.
Marcus raised his glass. “The receiving end of excellent service.”
Adrian drank. The wine was very good. The candlelight was warm. He was aware of something in the room that he couldn’t quite name, not threat, not discomfort, but clear innuendo of which he was only beginning to understand.
“So the next phase of my education,” Adrian said carefully. “This is something that happens tonight?”
“We thought after dinner,” Marcus said. “Presuming you’re open to it.”
“At my place,” Darius said. “More comfortable than a classroom.”
“And more private,” Marcus said, with the expression that Adrian was beginning to understand was as close as Marcus got to a smirk.
“What exactly am I learning?” Adrian asked, his mouth now somewhat dry.
Darius looked at him across the candlelight with the dark eyes that had been watching him, Adrian now understood, since September. “How to give someone something extraordinary,” he said. “What it’s like to buy, not always sell. To understand what extraordinary feels like from the inside. There’s no other way to truly learn it.”
“Some things,” Marcus said, finishing his wine with knowing satisfaction, “you can only understand by surrendering to them completely.” He set down his glass. “You’re not the type who has difficulty surrendering, are you, Adrian?”
Adrian held his gaze. “I’ve never tried,” he said.
“No, you haven’t,” Darius added a little too quickly.
A pause settled over the table. The restaurant moved around them, indifferent and warm. Adrian became aware that both men who were watching him had already decided how the evening would end and were simply waiting for the last piece to arrive at its conclusion.
“Okay,” Adrian said, knowing he really didn’t have a choice, but also acknowledging that Darius had changed his life, all for the good.
“Okay,” Darius said.
Marcus signaled for the check.
* * *
Marcus had made sure plenty of wine had been poured at dinner to ensure Adrian was completely relaxed. They walked in the door and Darius poured three Blanton’s, which would become a staple of their relationship, and Marcus pulled a Lowell Herb Co. pre-roll down from a shelf as if he lived there.
Darius dimmed the lights to ensure that the room was aglow from the brilliant Manhattan skyline outside his massive windows. He set the three bourbons down on the coffee table in front of the couch and motioned for Adrian to sit in the middle, and within seconds, Darius sat on his left with his arm on the back of the couch around Adrian’s shoulders, and Marcus sat on his right, lighting the joint and passing it to Adrian. Adrian had partaken, Darius had seen to that, so he knew its impact. The Blanton's and the Lowell did what they always did — softened the edges, slowed the breath, made the room feel warmer than it was. But underneath the ease, something else was building. The conversation at dinner had made clear enough what was coming, and Adrian's body had been receiving that signal since the check arrived. He was, simultaneously, the most relaxed and the most charged he had ever been in the same moment. The three sat for some time, sipping the Blanton’s and passing the joint as Darius thread his fingers through his hair and Marcus gently trailed his leg, each time closer to his hardening cock, but never actually reaching it. When the second joint had been stubbed out, Darius slowly stood up and pulled Adrian with him, saying to them both, “Let’s take this in the bedroom.”
Adrian knew he was walking into something he'd never done before. He didn't know exactly what form it would take or how two men would work in the same space, but he trusted both of them completely — and that trust, combined with what the dinner conversation had been building all evening, had produced in him something that felt less like apprehension and more like appetite.
Once in the bedroom, as if choreographed, Darius and Marcus surrounded him, stripping him of his clothes. Marcus slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off while Darius removed his pants and shoes, leaving his astonishingly toned body on display. “He’s as beautiful as you described, Darius,” Marcus remarked.
“I know,” Darius smiled, and added as he gripped Adrian’s massively hard cock, “And this is the best part”.
Again, as if scripted, Darius and Marcus dropped to their knees. Darius, who’d had plenty of practice, took Adrian’s cock into his mouth with a single gulp, but Adrian never saw coming what came next. Behind him, he felt Marcus spread his cheeks with his thumbs and felt what only could’ve been Marcus’s tongue circle his anus.
“FUCK!!!!” Adrian yelped, never having been touched there. Marcus pulled off him and said with a smile, “You like that little man?”
The pleasure Adrian felt was outer-worldly. Darius devouring his cock without mercy and Adrian had learned how to pace himself, but the hot wet tongue that caressed his hole rewrote the rules entirely.
This continued until Darius accurately sensed that they had already pushed Adrian close to his breaking point, so he pulled off as well. Without saying a word, Darius climbed onto the bed and rested his back against the pillowed headboard and motioned for Adrian to crawl between his open legs. Darius pulled him into him, with Adrian’s back to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. “Such a sweet fucking boy,” Darius purred as he gently stroked Adrian’s torso and kissed his neck.
Adrian closed his eyes and let the pleasure overwhelm him when he felt Marcus slowly lift his ankles into the air bringing his ass up to Marcus’s mouth and pick up where he left off. The same hot breath and ravenous tongue, now with a better angle on Adrian’s most treasured spot.
Darius whispered in Adrian’s ear loud enough for Marcus to hear, “Remember boy what we told you about learning retail? Experiencing it from both sides? Tonight’s like retail…we’re going to teach you…all this..” and he motioned to Marcus and the bed…“from both sides.”
Adrian froze, now fully understanding the metaphor, “I’m not sure I can, Sir,” his mouth dry. “I just don’t think I can…”
Now, Marcus inserted his tongue into Adrian’s increasingly willing hole, while Darius tightened his embrace, “You can, boy. I promise you. You have two very patient teachers here. We’ll give you all the time you need. I promise we won’t hurt you. Do you trust us?” he asked with another squeeze and while Marcus laid another particularly long swipe of the tongue across his hole.
“Yes…sirs…” Adrian whispered and willed himself to relax back into Darius’s arms.
For Adrian, the moment was beyond anything he had words for. It was only four months ago that he’d experienced man-on-man sex for the first time, but as the top he easily justified it, the only difference being the gender of the hole he was penetrating. That helped him explain the reality of what he was doing. But he was now becoming increasingly comfortable with a gay identity especially after experiencing New York with Darius and Marcus.
That said, being penetrated was a much bigger step than even his first night with Darius. It would confirm everything he’d conveniently sidestepped about his identity. He was working through that, but what genuinely concerned him more in the moment was the pain of being penetrated. His entire life, until now, that space was reserved for one thing, and one thing only. Tonight it was quickly revealing itself as the source of unspeakable pleasure, but the potential for pain, possibly intense, was undeniable.
As Marcus’s tongue continued to suck, lick, circle, tickle and penetrate his hole like an experienced man, Adrian’s undoing was increasingly difficult to mask. His breathing accelerated, he arched to give Marcus better access, he clutched the blankets until his knuckles were white, he moaned Marcus’s name, Darius’s name, called them Daddy, Sir, even Master. He was transfixed in a state that was, heretofore, unimaginable.
Then it happened. Alongside Marcus’s tongue was the unmistakable sensation of a fingertip. Lubed and patient but slowly sliding into his hole. And he surprised even himself when he gasped, “Yes, fuck yes!” and arched his back further to impale himself on the finger.
“I think our boy likes it…” Marcus looked up at Darius with a smile.
“Yeah, I knew he would. Keep going”, Darius said with authority.
Marcus didn’t have to; Adrian thrust himself down Marcus’s finger to simulate Marcus finger fucking him. “Please sir, keep going sir”, Adrian begged.
Marcus used his unused hand to press down on Adrian’s torso and provide more leverage as he slid his finger in and out. “Oh….…fuck…” Adrian kept moaning as Marcus pushed in and out with greater speed and intensity. Adrian tried again to buck his hips, but Marcus held him down saying, “I’m in charge here, boy” and fucked him harder with his finger.
“I think he’s ready for another one,” Darius declared.
“Me too”, Marcus agreed and slowly added a second heavily lubed finger to the first. He pushed in slowly now with two fingers intentionally stretching Adrian’s hole as he did. “OH…FUCK….” Adrian cried with some discomfort, but overwhelmingly pure, hedonistic pleasure. Adrian arched into the fingers again, desperate for more depth, but now, with the extra finger, Marcus surprised him by finding his prostate and circling it with his fingers. Adrian didn’t think he could endure any more of this exquisite torture, but the electricity raged through his body like thunderbolts. “FUCK….WHAT IS THAT?” he cried.
Darius gave him an extra squeeze from behind and said, “I think Marcus has found your magic button, young man. Your prostate. It’s the source of a lifetime of pleasure, something you should keep in mind going forward, particularly when you find yourself back on top.”
Adrian had no idea. He knew how Darius loved it when he fucked him, and there seemed to be some positions and angles that he was particularly responsive to, but he was only learning now how and why. But his passion overtook his intellect as he thrust his hips forward again into Marcus’s fingers to take more.
“Please sir”, he begged, “please keep going…”
Marcus cleverly changed up the speed, intensity and angle of the prostate massage, each time sending Adrian further into orbit. Every time he’d change it up, Adrian would yelp and beg for more like it was the first time he’d ever felt this. As he thrust his hips up and down, Darius could see the precum fly off the tip of his dick. “Slow him down,” he ordered Marcus.
Marcus pushed his hand back into Adrian’s torso rendering him motionless. Adrian’s cock had never been more engorged. Darius leaned down to Adrian, “Look at your cock. See that pre-cum? That’s your body responding to your magic button. Your body is telling you how much it loves it,” and as he said that he leaned down and over Adrian and dabbed a large drop of precum off the tip and fed it back to Adrian. “Taste it boy. See how good love tastes.”
Adrian devoured his fingers tasting, for the first time, his own pre-cum, and was surprised at its sweetness.
“I think he’s ready”, Marcus whispered gently.
“Yes, he is”, Darius confirmed.
Marcus gently pulled his fingers out creating an overwhelming sense of emptiness inside Adrian. Hours ago this tunnel was reserved for only one thing; now he missed the fullness he’d only now experienced for the first time.
Darius leaned over so he could whisper directly into Adrian’s ear. “You know what’s next, don’t you boy?”
“Yes sir”, he groaned but quickly added, “I can take it. In fact, I WANT it. Please sirs, I need it so bad…”
As he said this, Marcus was slowly climbing up between his legs staring deeply and knowingly into Adrian’s eyes while lifting his ankles over his shoulders.
Once Marcus was on his knees settled between Adrian’s flayed legs, Adrian felt the slightest presence of what could only be the tip of Marcus’s massive cock at his entry. With their eyes still locked, Adrian asked him wordlessly, Is that what I think it is?, and Marcus answered the only way possible, by pushing in slightly and resting the tip of his cock just inside the entry.
Adrian nodded, acknowledging its presence, and wordlessly asking him to keep going.
Marcus had used plenty of lube and Adrian’s hole was more than prepped from Marcus’s epic rim job, so when he pushed in slowly, it slid in as if it had found its one true home. Adrian felt every centimeter of his hole stretch in the most beautiful way possible. He experienced a revelation he never knew possible and understood completely Marcus’s role as the top to be the architect of his undoing.
With their eyes locked, Marcus continued to slide in as Darius stroked his torso and gently pinched his nipples from behind, sending Adrian into orbit. “Fuck sirs…..fuck….” he gasped over and over.
“I’m in,” Marcus announced as the pelvic bones touched and he could penetrate no deeper. Adrian was speechless. The feeling of fullness was truly overwhelming. Marcus continued to peer into his eyes and Darius embraced him even more closely from behind.
“Just stay there,” Darius quietly told Marcus. “Let our boy experience what it means to bottom.” Darius used the word intentionally to help educate Adrian on the pleasures of receiving. Darius knew Adrian would likely lean toward topping over his sexual lifetime, but wanted him to understand what it meant to receive so that when he gave, he gave with full knowledge of what it cost and what it was worth.
They remained still for several minutes but Marcus eventually pulled out slightly and began slow, deliberate thrusts. “Ohhhh….” Adrian nearly wept. “Please sir, fuck your boy…he needs it so badly…cum in me….please!” Adrian begged.
But Marcus was nowhere near cumming. Knowingly, he changed angles to target Adrian’s magic button with the tip of his cock. Adrian screamed with rapture when he hit it…“FUCK!!!!” he yelped, knowing now what part of him had been touched. Marcus smiled and deliberately kept the angle but increased velocity. “Like that boy?” he sneered.
“Fuck yes, SIR!” Adrian croaked. He was losing control and instinctively reached down to stroke himself off, but Darius caught both his hands and held them down. “No touching yourself, boy. Marcus and I decide when you cum.”
Rendered helpless, Adrian did the only thing he could, he pushed his hips down to take Marcus even deeper and continue to electrify his prostate. “Please sirs, PLEASE” he begged.
Adrian, now dripping with sweat, gave himself over to these two handsome, virile men. Darius he loved, Marcus he trusted, and for the first time in his life, he surrendered control. The dinner conversation now made sense. You understand retail far better if you’ve experienced both sides, giving and receiving. It was like he was enveloped in a wave of pure sensation.
As Marcus began to pound mercilessly, Adrian could feel Darius pinch his nipples more intensely and thrust his own swollen cock into his back. Before long, Darius grabbed Adrian and shouted, “Flip over!” and Marcus pulled out leaving Adrian’s hole gapingly empty.
Within seconds, Adrian was on all fours, Marcus was hammering him from behind and Darius was on his knees in front of him pulling Adrian by the hair to swallow his cock.
“What a good little piggy…” Marcus sneered, and Adrian secretly loved.
Adrian's hole had become accustomed now to the punishment Marcus was delivering and he was about to receive the same treatment with his mouth. Darius didn’t hold back, he was so close to cumming himself.
“I’m close, Dar…” Marcus declared.
“Me too, stud,” Darius answered, and continued, “Hold on boy, you’re about to get it from both ends…”
Like clockwork, the two men stiffened and unloaded in each of Adrian’s holes, both of which were firsts for him. Because they happened simultaneously, he had difficulty savoring the experience of both. Hot pulses of what felt like volcanic lava shot up into his gut, each taunting his prostate even more, while gulp after gulp of sweet, salty man juice filled his mouth, which he tried his best to swallow. He was amazed at the pure volume they unloaded into him. It was as if neither had cum in a month as they continued to spasm load after load after load.
He relished every drop even though it was now leaking down his thighs and chin. He was, once again, reminded of both participant’s role in sex, and despite the fact he hadn’t orgasmed, he had a strange sense of satisfaction.
Darius pulled out of his mouth and wiped the last few drops across Adrian’s lips which he devoured like he was still hungry for more. Marcus pulled out as well, leaving a sloppy mess leaking out of Adrian’s well used hole.
“Now it’s your turn,” Darius smiled, as they turned him over on his back and lovingly began to stroke his entire body, paying particular attention to his throbbing cock. Adrian was near catatonic and let the men have their way as they leaned over his cock kissing it, nibbling it, tonguing his balls, tracing the shaft and sharing the spoils of their young gymnast's taut body and hard cock.
Adrian was regaining his energy, began moaning and once again, thrust his cock up into their mouths. He placed a hand on each of their heads to guide them as they tortured him with their tongues. “Oh…fuck…” he groaned again for the umpteenth time that night. They found a rhythm where one would swallow his balls and roll them around his mouth while the other sucked vigorously on his cock and teased his slit with his tongue. Then they’d switch. Over and over, seemingly having a sixth sense for when Adrian was about to cum and pulling away just in time. “Please Sirs,” he begged, “let me cum…”
They continued the exquisite torture and together surrounded his shaft with their mouths. Two sets of lips slid up and down him while they firmly held him down on both sides. He arched his cock into their mouths and finally could wait no longer. He tensed up as Darius and Marcus licked his cock with the tips of their tongues releasing an orgasm that was so powerful, it was nearly violent. Spurt after spurt after spurt exploded out of his trunk-like cock with jizz covering his hair, face, neck, torso. And it continued to flow down his cock and into their mouths as they furiously tried to catch ever drop as he screamed with pleasure.
Suddenly, there was quiet. Nothing could be heard but Adrian’s heavy panting, which quieted with each successive breath.
Darius and Marcus gently stroked his body as he lay there motionless.
“I think our boy liked getting fucked,” Darius said with a smirk.
“No question” replied Marcus.
They gently pulled away, each lying down their back next to him with Darius’s arm around his shoulders. Once it seemed right to talk, Darius started, “You ok there, little man?”
“More than ok”, Adrian responded with a half-smile.
“Let’s talk about it….”, continued Darius, always the mentor.
“I had no idea…” Adrian volunteered.
“Of what?” Marcus asked as he gently rubbed the cum into Adrian’s torso.
“Everything”, he answered with a deep sigh.
“Tell us more”, Darius continued.
“How good it could be,” he said dreamily. He hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed to be actually talking about what he had just experienced, but knew he was in good hands. “That, that ‘spot’…the feeling when you massaged it…when you hit it with your cock… of having a cock inside me…of being…pounded,” he finished with a smile.
“Your hole opened up beautifully for it”, Marcus responded, then added, “So what did you learn?”
“Everything”, Adrian replied. “Like I said, I had no idea why Darius loved it so much when I was on top,” he said with a smile. “Now that I know…” he stopped to laugh and nuzzle into Darius, “watch out big guy, you may have created a monster.”
“Exactly what I was hoping for..” Darius responded and pulled him into a tighter embrace.
The night was far from over. They showered, tried to sleep, but Marcus’s and Darius’s erections overcame them and they took turns using Adrian’s hole, treating the occasion as an overdue education session for their young steward. They were successful beyond their highest expectations. Over time, Adrian would prefer the “top bunk” as they playfully referred to it, the experience taught him how to be a more skilled, more sensitive, more caring top, a lesson that would serve him well during his sexually prolific adulthood.
Much later, in the dark, with Adrian asleep between them and Marcus’s breathing already slowed, Darius lay still and looked at the Manhattan ceiling and thought about what was unfolding.
He had arranged this evening with his characteristic patience. He had planned it as education, as the next phase of Adrian’s formation, as the logical continuation of a mentorship that had been, from the beginning, more “comprehensive” than most. All of that was true. He did not doubt any of it.
What he was less certain about, lying in the Manhattan dark, was whether it was also something else. Whether the satisfaction he felt watching Adrian find himself tonight, the trust of it, the surrender, the way Adrian had nuzzled into him afterward and laughed and said watch out big guy, was the satisfaction of a mentor whose work was coming along well, or something more meaningful.
He had made his decision about his life a long time ago. It was a good decision. It was the right decision. He didn’t intend to revisit it.
He looked at Adrian’s face in the dark. The gymnast’s jaw. The floppy hair. Adrian, asleep next to him feeling safe, feeling desired, feeling loved.
He looked for a moment longer than he needed to.
Then he closed his eyes.
-To be continued-
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