The week dragged in the best way possible; Gene’s texts kept the fire stoked, but now with my new request steering the ship. I laid it out plain: the fucking machine had been incredible, a tireless beast that wrecked me in ways nothing human could, but next weekend I wanted flesh, heat, breath, and pulse. Specifically, all three of us, Gene, Ray, and whoever the third turned out to be, taking turns on me one by one, mouth and ass, no rush, no machines. Let me feel every inch, every vein, every different rhythm. Then, after we’d all caught our breath and reloaded, the main event: triple penetration. Two thick cocks stretching my ass wide open at the same time, one buried deep in my throat. I wanted them to feel how greedy my holes could be, how they gripped and milked, how I could take them all and beg for more.
Gene’s reply came fast: “Fuck yes. Ray’s already in, says his cock’s been twitching just thinking about it. I’ve got the third: Paul. 76, retired Navy, built like a tank back in the day, still solid. Hung heavy, loves to go slow and deep. He’s discreet, clean, and he’s dying to try a hole that can handle more than one. We’ll do it at my place Saturday morning. Come hungry.”
I arrived just after ten, pulse racing. Gene opened the door naked, already hard, and pulled me inside. Ray and Paul were already there, Ray lounging on the couch in boxers, Paul standing by the window in loose sweats, both smiling like men who’d been promised a feast. Introductions were quick, polite handshakes turning into appreciative once-overs. Paul was shorter than the others but broad-shouldered, silver chest hair, and when he dropped his sweats, his cock hung thick and low, uncut, foreskin half-retracted over a blunt head, balls heavy and loose. My mouth watered.
We started slow, no hurry. Gene had me strip and kneel in the middle of the living room rug. The three of them circled me like wolves, cocks out, stroking lazily. “Mouth first,” Gene said. I took him in deep, slow worship, tongue bathing his shaft, sucking those shaved balls while my hands reached for Ray and Paul. I alternated: Gene’s long, veined length down my throat, then Ray’s thicker girth stretching my lips, then Paul’s heavy, musky cock filling my mouth. They passed me around gently at first, each man getting long, luxurious sucks, until their breathing grew ragged. Gene came first, pulling back to paint my tongue; I swallowed, then turned to Ray, who fed me his load in short, pulsing spurts. Paul lasted longest, slow, deliberate face-fucks until he groaned low and unloaded straight down my throat.
Ass next. They moved me to the bedroom, bed stripped to just the fitted sheet. I got on all fours, ass up, hole already slick from anticipation. They took turns again, one at a time, no overlapping yet.
Gene went first, raw, deep, familiar strokes that hit every spot he knew I loved. He fucked me steady for ten minutes, building me close but pulling out before I tipped over. Ray followed: thicker stretch, powerful thrusts that made my whole body jolt, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He came deep, grinding in circles as he emptied. Paul was last of the solo round, slow, rolling hips, letting me feel every inch of that heavy cock drag in and out. He talked low the whole time: “Such a perfect hole… taking us old men like you were made for it.” When he came it was a flood, hot, thick spurts that overflowed and ran down my thighs.
We rested, water, towels, light touches. Gene wiped me down gently, fingers dipping in to feel how loose and full I was. “Ready for the real thing?” he asked. I nodded, cock throbbing again despite the earlier loads.
They positioned me carefully: on my back, legs pulled high and wide, supported by pillows. Gene and Paul took my ass first, both lubed heavily. Gene slid in easy, then held still while Paul pressed in alongside him. The stretch was intense, burning sweet fire that made me gasp and arch. Two thick cocks side by side, stretching my ring to its limit, sliding against each other inside me. They moved in alternating rhythms at first, Gene pulling back as Paul pushed in, then found a shared pace, both thrusting deep together. The friction, the fullness, the heat of their shafts rubbing… I moaned like I was dying, pre-cum leaking steadily.
Ray knelt by my head, cock hard again, and fed it to me. I opened wide, throat relaxed, taking him deep while my ass was double-stuffed. The overload was perfect: mouth filled with salty thickness, ass stretched impossibly around two older cocks pounding in unison. They synced up, deep grinds that mashed my prostate relentlessly—while Ray fucked my face in long strokes. I came without warning, prostate orgasm ripping through me, ass clamping down hard on the two cocks inside, milking them. That set them off: Gene and Paul came almost together, hot spurts mixing deep in my guts, their groans muffled against my skin. Ray pulled out at the last second and shot across my chest and face, thick ropes landing warm and sticky.
We stayed locked like that for long minutes, Gene and Paul softening inside me but not pulling out yet, Ray’s spent cock resting on my lips. Slow kisses, soft words, hands roaming. Eventually they eased out, cum gushing from my gaping hole. Gene scooped some up and fed it to me; I licked his fingers clean.
The rest of the afternoon was lazy recovery, shower together, all four of us under the spray, soapy hands everywhere. No more fucking, just touching, kissing, appreciation. When it was time to go, they walked me to the door, each kissing me deep.
Gene at the end: “Next weekend? Same crew, or add one more? Your holes are legendary, Dick. We’re all hooked.”
I drove home leaking everywhere, ass deliciously wrecked, tasting three different loads on my tongue, already plotting how to take even more.
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