Southern Exposure

Once a year I head back home to see my father, who still lives in the suburbs of the capital I grew up in. He is retired, and has decided living in the city isn’t really for him anymore – too much hustle and bustle at his age.

Over time, most of my friends also eventually left Santiago, finding new work, new lovers and new lives elsewhere. Everyone now lives scattered all over the world, like sand blown away by the wind. Personally, I’m all for migration and expanding your horizons.

I ended up settling in LA, where I’ve been working and living for almost a decade now. But I still have pretty good contact with most of my friends from back home, and we always try to meet up whenever we find ourselves in the same part of the world, at the same time.

As it’s that time of year again, I find myself booking a return flight to Chile, to visit my dad Antonio. I decide to post this most mundane of activities on the social network, rather than individually messaging people – to see if anyone else will be there at the same time. Two weeks with only my papi for company can become quite tiring, as much as I love him, and a little distraction from friends will provide some welcome relief.

It’s not complicated with Antonio, per se. He knows I’m gay, and has no problem with it, but we don’t really have a vast array of subjects to discuss anymore, as we occupy such different worlds, especially now. Not to mention my pleasurable pastimes and his don’t overlap so much. For example, he likes sitting smoking his pipe, whereas I like sucking cock.

*     *     *     *

Days before I’m due to leave, I get a reply message on my post:

“Hey, hey – hope you are doing good up there in the L of A? Just saw you are heading home for a bit. Wanna come and visit us? Be nice to see you dude. Love, Em.”

My best friend from school, Emilio, finds himself back home in Chile from every now and again, working on various projects for a few months at a time. He will be there with his husband Farkas, staying close to a small settlement on the coast. Farkas is Hungarian, and they met ages ago while travelling through Europe, and have been married for around 7 years now.

I see them every other couple of years, and we all get on well, so the prospect of paying them a visit fills me with excitement. Hanging out with them is always fun, spending time catching up, telling stories, laughing and cooking up a storm, and off course drinking. We all enjoy a drink actually, and things can get quite naughty when alcohol is involved.

The last time I saw them, Emilio was drunkenly trying to convince me to join them in a threesome, which I reluctantly passed up on…

See, ‘Lio and I have history. We’ve known each other since school, and came out to each other around roughly the same time, when no one else yet knew. College days we spent experimenting with boys, Emilio still also fooling around with a few girls, but every now and again we would inevitably end up experimenting with each other, for better or for worse.

Emilio has always been attractive, with olive skin, dark hair and big blue eyes. Not the tallest, but fit with a toned body and plenty of charm, and unashamedly sexual. What he lacks in stature, he makes up for in eagerness, technique and stamina.

Long story short, I ended up falling for him in a big way, while he did not reciprocate my feelings, always leaving me slightly confused by my lust and our actions after splashing our cum over each other. I ended up having to cut him out of my life, for the sake of my own sanity.

But over time we managed to rekindled our friendship through mutual acquaintances, and found how much we still have in common, and how we still share the same interests and twisted sense of humour.

Ever since, I’ve made a conscious decision to not get caught up in all that again, and try and keep the friendship strictly platonic. But with Farkas in the frame, it is unfortunately not so simple or easy anymore.

The difficulty being, that Farkas is a bit of something. A bit of something I find irresistible.

He has been blessed with blemish free milky white skin that doesn’t seem to react to the sun, no matter how long he spends in it. Good bone structure holds icy green eyes topped with fair brows, which only seem to make his eye colour stand out more. Strong cheekbones run down to a big mouth, with full lips that smile easily and frequently. Of medium height and slender build, he has an easy-going nature and openness that makes him very likeable. Emilio drunkenly told me once that Farkas has also been blessed with a massive cock, which obviously adds to the overall attraction!

I try and picture them in my mind, how they might have changed over the last couple of years, as I excitedly start getting my stuff together for my trip. I pack mostly shorts, t-shirts and vests, and sandals - knowing it will become very hot during the day. I throw in a book or two as well.

I’m excited as much for seeing my father again, as for re-connecting with those two out in nature and going for walks, and enjoying life outside in the southern summer.

*     *     *     *

It’s just after ten in the morning as I step off the plane at Aeropuerto Internacional on a sunny Tuesday at the end of January. I always forget how much brighter the light is down here. I search for my sunglasses squinting, temporarily blinded by the brilliant white ball hanging low in the sky.

Antonio picks me up in his new “sensible” smaller car, having gotten rid of his old, battered Audi sedan, which both my two sisters and I deemed an accident waiting to happen.

It is great seeing him, and after we embraced and said our hellos, we hit the road, travelling south. We effortlessly chat the whole way, and it feels like we saw each other only yesterday. He tells me about his new neighbours at the complex, and why they irritate him. He tells me about the drawing classes he now attends. He also tells me who is ill, who is suspiciously healthy, and who died recently.

Since my mother passed away a few years ago, I have been worried about him being on his own, but he seems to have quite a network of people around him that he sees regularly. And the fact that many of them annoy him, makes me secretly happy. It just means he is absolutely fine, still doing OK, still being him…

He then asks me something quite unexpected, coming from him anyways. “So, tell me… Have you got someone Louis? Have you got… Um, a special friend?” he struggles.

“I’ve got many special friends,” I joke, giving him a playful look, “do you mean a boyfriend Papi?”

“That’s what I said, no?”

Raising an eyebrow, I reply. “No. Not at the moment…” As I say it, I realise how sad I sound, quickly adding “But I’m not lonely, don’t worry. I’m not really looking for someone either…”

There is silence in the car for the first time, as I watch the landscape racing by, images of previous lovers flickering in the grasses and faces flashing through the trees.

“Anyway,” I break the silence, “do you remember Emilio, my friend from way back?”

“Yes, yes, of course…”

“Well, I’m visiting him and his, um… special friend later in the week,” I tease. “They are temporarily living near Los Vilos somewhere close to the coast. Not far from his father apparently…”

He lifts an eyebrow, probably wondering to himself if there are still any straight young men left in the world today. “Los Vilos eh? Suppose to have a beautiful coastline in that area…” he finally says.

Before I can answer, we turn off the highway, and head for my dad’s place, a security village with lots of other retired folks, where I will try and survive for the next four days before meeting my buddies.

*     *     *     *

Time flies even when you are not having that must fun. It is Friday afternoon already, and Emilio is picking me up in Santiago itself, from where we’ll drive over to the coast together. We agreed to meet at a spot in the north of the city, and true to form, Emilio is right on time.

Pulling up in a pale blue pick-up truck, he has a cap and sunglasses on, and is smoking a cigarette that he lifts to his lips with a tanned arm. When he gets out of the car, he takes his shades of, revealing those impossibly blue eyes, wearing a nervous but mischievous smile. 

“Hey stranger, how goes?” he asks, eyeing me carefully up and down. We kiss, and embrace tightly. “Good to see you Emilio, it’s been a while!” He smells fresh, and still looks like he could be a student, even though we are now in our early thirties. 

Emilio used to do gymnastics, his limbs still toned, and he is showing off his impressive calves in a pair of loose, tie-waste shorts and sandals. I also notice he is probably not wearing any underwear, as his bits are swinging and knocking against the soft fabric. Some things never change, I find myself thinking.

I throw my bag into the back. “Shall we get going dude?” he asks, putting out his cigarette and smiling.

“Let’s do it,” I answer smiling back, gently patting him on the back with my hand, as he exhales a final plume of smoke.

We start our two-hour drive northwest, chatting and making jokes. I almost forgot how much fun it is to be in his company. His laugh is infectious and his sideways looks are wicked.

After an hour’s drive or so, he says, “By the way, you look good Louis... Have you started working out, like 6 days a week, or something?!” He just continues looking straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the road, but I know him well enough to know he is expecting an answer.

“I work out a bit, yeah” I reply, “I was tired of being skinny and not getting laid often enough,” I add laughingly.

“And do you feel it is working?” he asks slyly, still looking ahead.

“Possibly…” I reply coyly.

“Dude, with that chest you probably have a queue around the block. Biceps too!”

I’m not sure what to say, so just look out the window at the hills speeding past.

“I meant that as a compliment, by the way,” he says, and squeezes my thigh, leaving his hand lingering a second or two longer than necessary.

“Thanks… I know.”

“And now with all your tattoos as well… Don’t get me wrong, you were always attractive, but never… I dunno, this manly!” he says and breaks out laughing. “Good thing I’m with Farkas, otherwise I’d be all over you by now.” He shoots me a sideways glance.

I laugh nervously, and ask how far we have left to go. He looks at the clock, smiles and then happily announces: “About 30 minutes or so. And that means it is officially beer o’clock!” He pulls out two bottles from behind my seat, hands me one and reaches for his smokes.

“Jesus… Don’t look so concerned…” he tuts. “We are getting off the main road now anyway, don’t worry... Cheers!”

The next half hour we drive on a bumpy dirt track that is shaking and rattling the pick-up. I feel my bulge expanding from all the vibration, but try to ignore it. We drink our beers, continuing to talk about times past and times present, chatting like old friends do.

“Fuckin’ shit road…” he mutters as he grabs hold of his package, holding it in his hand. “So not just me then?!” I chuckle, as I also blatantly re-adjust my floppy bits that are being mercilessly shaken.

By the time we get to their place, the sun is already setting. He parks the truck in front of an old, white-washed building this is glowing a warm peach colour in the last rays of the sun. It looks like it has seen better days, but is charming nonetheless.

Farkas comes out round the back of the building to greet us. He is also as I remember: a beautiful pale ghost with glowing eyes and a generous smile. “Welcome Yank!” he jokes.

We kiss and hug. “Hey Farkas, good to see you man!”

He stands back, looking at me. “What do they feed you up there in the US? Engineered protein?” he asks. “Or are you just swallowing too often?” he chuckles.

“You wish…” Emilio states blankly, before looking at me, rolling his eyes.

I take my things inside, following behind Farkas, while Emilio unloads some more stuff he bought in Santiago from the pick-up.

“And here is your room Louis. Just so you know, we are right next door, if you need anything. Or in case you get lonely…”

“Ha, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind!” I joke back, as I feel my pulse increasing and my dick stirring, still a little excitable from all the shaking on the road. “Strictly platonic, remember?” I tell myself, as I unpack my things.

That night Emilio cooks us fresh roasted fish on the fire, with potatoes on the coals, as we sit outside looking at the stars, drinking wine and sharing anecdotes.

Just after midnight, I say goodnight and make my way to bed. Tired from the drive, and engaging an elderly father for a few days, I fall asleep almost immediately to the sounds of crickets, cicadas and other nocturnal musicians outside.

*     *     *     *

At around 2:30am I wake up. It is pitch dark, but slowly my eyes adjust to the darkness. I hear muffled noises coming from close by. The unmistakable sound of sexual activity seems to be coming from next door. Softly at first, but getting progressively louder, easily travelling through the cracks and small openings in the old stonewalls.

It is so quiet otherwise, it almost sounds like the action is happening right on top of me. Heavy breathing alternates with wet, sucking noises and soft moaning. At first I try to ignore it, but I’m slowly but surely getting aroused. Whenever I close my eyes in an attempt to sleep again, I just feel myself getting harder, as I imagine what they are doing with each other.

Too hot too sleep in anything, or under anything this time of year, I’m already lying naked on top of the sheets, my balls moistly clinging to my inner leg. Now my dick is leisurely rotating anti-clockwise toward my belly button’s 12 as it fills with more blood. Like a magnet, my hand moves south, first rubbing my balls up and down, massaging them, before moving onto my shaft.

A drop of pre-cum is starting to escape from the tip as I move my hand further up, even though I’m not quite rock hard yet. I move my hand back all the way down my shaft, before firmly squeezing upwards, getting a nice big blob to pop onto my finger. Listening closely to the panting and gasping coming through the thin walls, I stick my finger in my mouth and suck on it, tasting my own sweetly salty sap, while they are producing their own just meters away from me.

As the heavy breathing intensifies next door I start stroking my cock. My other hand is moving over my chest, gripping and massaging my muscles. A loud moan echoes through the wall, and I instinctively pinch my nipple between thumb and forefinger, pulling at it. I silently moan at the same time.

Now I can hear them fucking, as the breathing is much more rhythmic and timely. The moaning also matches this tempo, and I start gripping my cock harder and stroking faster, joining their rhythm. I push my other hand down into my pubic hair, fingers on either side of my cock’s base, applying pressure.

My meat is now making soft slapping noises as I stroke, pre-cum smeared all over the head and in between my foreskin. I quickly squeeze and take another finger full in my mouth, wrapping my tongue around it, imagining I’m tasting one of them. A soft moan escapes my lips.

I start jerking off with two hands, one above the other now, as the fucking goes up a gear and they head into the home straight. After a while my hands are so wet, I’m concerned it’s making too much noise, but I know that it is muffled out by their own carnal symphony next door.

As I finally hear the words “I’m coming,” softly vibrate through the wall, I remove one hand, slipping two fingers down past my balls towards my hole. Just before the entrance, I apply pressure, pushing hard, hooking myself like a fish on a line and pulling into myself, throwing my head back.

Within split seconds, the three of us cum, one of them inside the other, me onto my shoulders, chest and stomach - all three of us only meters away from each other. It feels incredible, and it makes my whole body convulse as I shoot my hot load, knowing that they are too.

After we came, it is silent and I fall asleep again, lying on my bed like a porno-splattered Pollock painting, waiting to dry.

*     *     *     *

I slowly open my eyes. The sun is already shining into my room, crawling in thin bars through the window slats, onto my legs. Slowly I start waking up, recognising my surroundings, and hearing faint movements outside.

As the sun starts hitting my stomach, I look down onto my chest and arms, and see streaks of cum flaking off me like dried snail tracks.

I take my t-shirt from yesterday and rub it off my skin, not wanting to walk out like a cum-rag in search of coffee first thing in the morning. I pull on a pair of boxers, and briskly brush my fingers through my hair. I walk through the empty house, smelling the aroma of fresh coffee and head towards the doors leading outside.

I find Emilio and Farkas sitting in the Saturday morning sun, also still in their underwear, drinking coffee and reading. I stand and look at them for a moment. “What a handsome couple…” I find myself thinking. Farkas is sitting against the wall with his sunglasses on, Emilio at a 90-degree angle to him, resting his legs on his lap.

Looking up, Farkas notices me standing in the door. “Morning Mr. Alvero. How’d you sleep?”

“Hey... Good,” I say. Squinting in the bright sunshine, I add with a cheeky grin, “Woke up from something around 3am, but then slept like a baby after that.”

They share a quick guilty smile, before Emilio says, “There’s fresh coffee on the stove, Louis – help yourself,” then continues reading, adjusting his feet.

I join them back outside, where we sit for a while, sipping caffeine and soaking up the sun before it gets too hot. We nibble on bread and fruits, planning how to spend day.

Emilio announces that it happens to be his father, Emilio Snr’s birthday on Sunday, but that he was actually considering inviting him for lunch with us today rather then tomorrow. Maybe go to his favourite seafood shack on the beach, not far from here.

“Yeah, sounds good to me ‘Lio,” Farkas says, absentmindedly scratching his crotch, making his substantial bulge cast a wobbling shadow on his thigh. I stare at it, swallow heavily and take another sip of my coffee, trying to subtly readjust my own bulge that is announcing it is also now awake again. I push out my lower lip, and nod in agreement.

*     *     *     *

The seafood shack is exactly what it sounds like; a haphazardly constructed space without any decoration as such, just basic wooden tables and rickety chairs standing around randomly, all overlooking the ocean.

But what it lacks in sophistication, it more than makes up for in views, atmosphere and food. Well, I say food. Abalone and oysters, mostly. Huge, juicy oysters served in enamel plates, accompanied by a whole lime, a knife, a pepper grinder and hot chilli sauce.

Emilio Snr. is already here, having a lively conversation with the owner. After greeting each other, and congratulating him, we find a table, pull some chairs together, and plonk ourselves down for a few hours. Chatter and laughter from locals fills the space, and wine flows freely. As does Pisco, we find out.

By late afternoon, my stomach hurts from laughing so much, eating too many oysters, as well as drinking copious amounts of wine, accentuated by a shot or two of Pisco near the end, “to help with digestion.”

Emilio Snr. thanks us for inviting him, but insists that he has to go and lie down, explaining that he’s no spring chicken anymore. He says his goodbyes, kissing each of us on the cheek before heading off with a quick wave.

Emilio Jnr. goes to pay the bill, returning to the table with yet another bottle of wine. “We should make the most this beautiful day,” he says, holding up the bottle and twirling it carefully in his hand. “I though we could go to that nice beach up north and have sundowners. It’s a little hidden away, and normally you have the place to yourself - even on a Saturday,” he says proudly, lifting his eyebrows three times in quick succession.

“You really are on it today, aren’t you?” Farkas says, laughingly patting Emilio’s cheek, while biting down on his cigarette. “At this rate, you’d even want us to go for a swim, by the sounds of it,” he adds, blowing out a big puff of smoke.

“Isn’t the water a bit cold for that?” I ask.

“Fucking freezing dude” Emilio replies, laughing. “But we’ve got towels, so at least have something to lie on… Farkas, are you driving?”

“I guess... Shall we go?”

We pile into the pick-up, squeezing in next to each other again, our thighs all pressed together in the limited space. We smoke cigarettes and listen to music as we speed along a loose sandy road, driving past sand dunes, hoping we don’t get stuck. And already worrying how the hell we will manage to get back once another bottle of wine is empty, and the sun has set.

*     *     *     *

The stress of getting to the secluded beach was well worth it. It is pristine with light cream-coloured sand, big sun-bleached boulders scattered around it and not a soul in sight.

We take our bottle of wine and head for the water, settling down on a spot close to a group of boulders, and lay our towels out next to each other.

The combination of oysters and wine has made me feel a little more flamboyant than usual, and after sitting in the hot sun for a few minutes, I ask the other two if they mind if I soak up the rays in my birthday suit.

Farkas is quick to reply. “Good idea! I’ll join you.”

I take off my shorts and lie down on my front, facing the ocean. Farkas kicks off his as well, and I almost have a hernia trying not to stare at the package that flops out when he does, even if I only see it for a split second. He also lies down on his front, looking towards me. “That’s much more comfortable,” he smiles, “And with a great view too!” he adds, winking.

Turning our attention to Emilio after a while, we look at him expectantly. “Yeah, yeah, just finishing my fuckin’ cigarette, Jesus…” he says, blowing out a plume of smoke, before pulling off his shorts, revealing spectacular tan lines, his pert butt pretending to be a pale little Speedo.

We lie there drinking, laughing and eventually flirting in the sun, like three stranded mermaids on the beach.

“I’m boiling…” I say after a while, “I need to seriously cool down. I’m going for a dip, you guys joining me?” 

They watch me get up, staring at me standing there naked in the late afternoon sun. As I stretch, my body casts a long shadow on the sand, my cock hanging lazily in front of my sack.

“Not a chance,” Emilio replies, pulling on his smoke, still staring at my dick.

“I’ll come with,” Farkas offers, smiling from ear to ear. “Let’s do it!”

As we run towards the waves, I can see his heavy cock flapping from side to side out of the corner of my eye. The water hits us like a block of ice, taking our breaths away, our nipples poking out of our chests like sharp little thermometers.

As we stand bobbing in the shoulder-high waves for a few seconds, shivering, I suddenly feel his hand on my dick, holding it, and then pulling it towards him under the water. “Cold, huh?!” he laughs, letting go of it, smiling at me. I can feel my heart racing.

I look over towards Emilio on the beach, who is still smoking. “Fuck yeah,” I answer. I feel for his cock under the waves and pull at it. It has definitely also shrunk in the icy water, but is still impressive. “You don’t seem to be as cold though, Farkas,” I joke, squeezing his cock with a wink, before reluctantly letting it go. He looks at me for a few seconds, grinning, before announcing: “Well, that was fun! But lets get out of the water before it freezes off completely... Then there wil be no fun!”

As we walk back onto the beach, our dicks crimpled, pointing straight ahead and our balls pre-pubescent-like, I notice that Emilio is sporting a bit of a semi hanging between his legs. “How was that?” he asks when we get back, blowing smoke out of nostrils.

“Great. Refreshing!” I offer.

“And fun!” Farkas adds, smiling at me.

“I bet,” Emilio replies, putting out his cigarette. “Come on, I think we should get going. I don’t want to drive that road in the dark.”

We dry off as the sun turns orange-y red, starting to merge with the horizon, and quickly loosing it’s heat. We walk back in silence. Not an awkward silence, but more a comfortable one - maybe even an expectant one.

*     *     *     *

Once back at the house, the sun has already set, the sky still blue, but tinged with a warm pink glow. We are all feeling the effects of too much wine, sunshine and oysters, but it is a woozy mellowness, rather than a fumbling uselessness.

I slump down on the sofa, putting my feet on the table in front of it. Farkas busies himself looking through the fridge, trying to configure a quick meal for us, as we are all now pretty hungry again. Emilio shuffles in and plonks himself down on the sofa next to me, hanging his arm around my neck.

“I was nice today, wasn’t it?” he asks, gently giving my shoulder a squeeze. He then narrows his eyes slightly, lifting his eyebrows at the same time. I recognise this look from our college days. “But you know what would make today even better?” he asks.

“What then?” I reply, looking at him.

“If we indulge in a little consensual adult fun later, the three of us… What do you say dude? You up for it?” he asks softly, rubbing my thigh, lustfully smiling at me.

My brain is repeating the phrase “Strictly Platonic,” while I imagine my cock sneering at it, saying “Platonic-schmonic, I’ve got gallons on blood on stand-by, ready to go!” I grin and throw back my head, “Yeah, why not. I’m too drunk too be sensible at the moment anyway,” laughingly turning my head towards Emilio again.

Emilio moves his hand up my leg, finding the outline of my dick on my trousers and gently runs his finger around it. “Good,” he smiles.

At that moment Farkas comes past, stops and stares at us, Emilio’s hand still teasing my cock through my shorts.

“Your husband is molesting me!” I protest.

“I can see that,” he says smiling, adding “Come on homos, let’s eat. I’ve heated up some leftovers.”

We sit down together, enjoying another glass of wine each, chatting and making innuendos, laughingly eating our food. We all look a bit worse for wear – it’s been a long day. Afterwards, Emilio disappears outside, stoking the fire back into life, while Farkas takes the dishes into the kitchen, clumsily washing and tidying up.

Having finished my wine and also fancying a smoke, I head outside. It is completely dark now, the moonlight casting blue shadows on the ground. Close to the fire, I see the silhouette of Emilio, sitting on the wooden table, his feet on the bench, smoking a cigarette.

I walk over towards him. “Here you are,” I softly say. “Mind if I have a drag?” gesturing towards his smoke. “Go ahead, finish it,” he replies, handing it to me, but holding onto it, so our fingers touch for a few seconds. Taking the cigarette between my lips, I inhale deeply while looking at him, as he releases a plume from his mouth and leans back on the table, resting on his hands, looking back at me.

After putting out the butt, I lean over, placing my hand on his knee. As I blow out the last smoke, I start sliding my hand into his shorts, crawling along his warm thigh towards his crotch, our eyes still fixed on each other.

He smiles, his eyes flickering with the reflection of the fire. As my hand travels further, he starts spreading his legs more, giving me further access. When my fingers get to his balls, I pull them away from where they are clinging to his inner leg, and start massaging them gently in my palm. He closes his eyes and tilts back his head.

He lets out a soft moan, as I feel his dick coming to life and slowly rotating upwards, brushing past my hand. Emilio’s balls are still the same: robust and about the size of two boiled eggs. Soft, firm and warm all at once.

Meanwhile, his hand finds my bulge, at first sensually feeling it through the fabric, before groping it more firmly as it starts swelling with blood.

“Take off you shirt,” he orders, “Show me that new bad-ass body of yours.”

I oblige, taking my hand out of his shorts, pulling a long thin strand of his pre-cum with it. I lick it off the back of my hand while looking him in the eye. Next I pull my shirt over my head, keeping it wrapped around my wrists. Leaning forward still, I place my hands over his head, letting them rest behind his neck in an embrace. He moves forward and we kiss slowly, our lips exploring and feeling each other out.

We never used to kiss when we were younger, so this was kind of a new sensation. With our tongues joining the party, it gets more intense and I feel my heart rate increasing as we begin to breathe heavily.

With my hands still around his neck, his hands glide up my chest, his fingers finding my nipples, teases them, before pinching firmly between thumb and forefinger, pulling me closer to him. I let out a grunt, as I feel my own juices starting to drip down the inside of my shorts, as we enthusiastically suck each other’s wet tongues.

“I wanna taste that cock again,” he says, pushing me away slightly as he starts pulling down my shorts, my dick eventually jumping free. I push the fabric down further with my foot, before stepping out of them. My cock is now twitching in time to my heartbeat, as Emilio firmly holds me by my balls, admiring my meat, running his nose along it, smelling me. “Fuck yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “That a nice piece of wood.”

A big drop of pre-cum escapes from the tip of my swollen cock, which I scoop up with my finger, smearing it onto my tongue, before leaning in towards Emilio, inviting him to share it. He takes my tongue in his mouth, eagerly sucking it, both of us tasting the salty-sweet flavour of lust, breathing heavily.

“Jesus Louis, when did you get so fuckin’ hot?” he mumbles, not giving me time to answer, instead moving down and taking my meat in his warm mouth, wrapping his lips tightly around my shaft. Trying to swallow all of me, he starts choking with his chin only an inch away from my dangling balls. He pulls back up, spit running out of his mouth as he strokes my now slippery wet cock, glistening in the fire’s flickering glow.

“That’s… Substantial,” he finally says after briefly coughing and catching his breath.

“Thanks dude…Where is Farkas, by the way?” I ask.

“Dunno, inside somewhere?”

“Go get Farkas. I feel bad fooling around with you here, alone, while your husband is in the vicinity.”

“He won’t mind, it’s ok” he replies, still stroking my cock and pulling on my sack.

“But I  mind Emilio. If we’re gonna do this, at least give him the chance to join in. You said the three of us anyways.”

“Christ… OK, hang on. Let me go find him,” he scoffs, heading towards the door, half stumbling on his shorts. He yanks them off and discards them to the side, as I see his little white ass disappear into the house.

While I wait, I eat another blob of pre-cum from my cock, gently sucking on my finger while I stare at the fire – contemplating what I’m busy doing.

“He’s passed out in bed,” Emilio says when he returns a few minutes later, walking towards me with his hard-on swinging from side to side. It’s not the longest or thickest of cocks, but it is perfectly formed. Completely symmetrical, and curving upwards, with a dark head at the end of a smooth shaft – good looking and toned, just like its owner.

“OK then, we tried,” I shrug with a smile, pushing him against the table, before I kneel down in front of him and start sucking his sticky lollipop, wrapping my tongue around its head. He moans softly, grabbing my head and pulling my hair, as I bob up and down on his rock-hard dick.

In college we only ever jerked each other off, exchanged blowjobs and rimmed a couple of times, but here, eight and a half years later next to an open fire, I’m burning to go further.

Standing back up and kissing each other forcefully, I pull away for a moment, inserting my fingers into his mouth. “Make them wet,” I calmly order. He washes his tongue around my digits looking me in the eye, before I pull them out and slide my dripping wet hand between his perfectly firm ass cheeks and start to massage his crack, spreading the spit up and down it. He closes his eyes, whimpering.

In his ear I whisper, “How do you feel about having me inside you?” as I circle my slippery fingers around his hole, pulling him towards me.

“Oh my god, you’re making me so wet… Do with me what you want, Mr. Alvero,” he pants, making a smile creep onto my face.

I tell him to get onto the table on all fours, his feet dangling off the edge. Spreading his cheeks apart with my hands, I duck down slightly, and start warming his hole with my flicking tongue, tasting his sweat. Every now and again I push my chin in as well, rubbing and gently scratching around his juicy mangina with my stubble, making him moan and squirm.

Eventually he turns to me pleadingly. “Fuck Louis... Use me, I’m ready,” he orders over his shoulder.

Still wearing his t-shirt, I order him to sit on his haunches on the table. Spreading his ass open with my fingers, it’s the perfect height to paint it with my natural lube. I grab his shirt in my fist, at first aiming with my cock alone. Although it is teasingly erotic, it takes too long. I switch to gripping my dirty baster in my hand, smearing viscous clear juice all around his already wet, hungry hole.

Coming up close behind him, I position my bulging glans right up to the entrance, before pulling him carefully back against my chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you dude,” I reassure him, as I feel a tinge of panic rising, him leaning back so close to the edge of the table.

Wrapping my arms around him from behind, holding his chest, I order him to sit down slowly. I start feeling his hole crawling onto my cock, stretching slowly, like a snake swallowing an egg. Kissing and nibbling on his ears as he lowers himself further, I feel my head slip inside as he lets out a deep groan. “Fuck Louis…”

Holding him tighter, he sits down deeper and I feel my shaft slowly sliding inside. Once he is more comfortable, I start carefully fucking him, letting my meat slide out almost completely, before pushing it back in again until my balls knocks against his. Every time I slide it back in, he lets out a deep “Urgh…”

He turns back his head, and we kiss deeply, letting our tongues gently wrestle with one another. It feels very erotic, him squatting on the table and opening his bowels, and me standing behind him, pumping his eager hole; working up a sweat in the heat of the fire.

“Where should I cum?” I eventually ask, sweat drops running down my nose. “Any preferences dude?”

“Are you close?” he pants.

“Almost,” I reply between hammering my throbbing cock into his hot, slippery insides.

“I need a little longer, but not much…” he replies, “Wherever you want, just don’t cum inside me,” he adds gasping. “Don’t want to deal with leakage later…”

“OK,” I answer breathlessly, “Lead the way…”

Emilio is now furiously jerking his cock, his hand reaching it from around his knee, as I keep stuffing myself into him, getting ever closer to the edge.

“Urgh… Urgh… Urgh…” his moaning synchronised to the thrusts I’m dishing out. I’m so close, I can almost feel my semen holding its breath.

“Fuck Louis, fuck, urgh, argh, urgh, I’m coming… Fuck dude, you’re hurting me so good…” he moans, before sealing the deal with: “Fuckin’ pump me full of your thick cum!”

At the last second, he slips off my wet, throbbing cock, as he leans forward and shoots his load onto the table in parallel white streaks across the wood. His tight ring sliding past my swollen head provided the final friction to set me off as well, as I feel my own load starting to gush out. “Uuuurghhhh, fuuuuck ‘Lio…” I grunt, as I see his hole twitching with his orgasm, before it is covered split seconds later with my thick creamy cum splashing all over his pale ass.

Before I finish shooting my load, I force my cock into his hole one last time, pushing the last of my juice deep inside, eliciting a long, deep moan from him. “Shit. Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” I apologise, as I suddenly remember him asking me not to cum inside him. “It’s OK,” he replies, “it felt good,” once I pulled it out again.

I slump down onto the bench panting, as Emilio collapses onto the table, lying on his side, breathing heavily. My cock is still swinging heavily between my thighs, the last bits of cum slowly leaking out of it, as I place my hand on Emilio’s thigh – stroking it tenderly.

“You ok dude?” I softly ask. He runs his finger against my arm. “Thanks, that was wonderful…” he whispers, as his eyes struggle to stay open.

“You’re welcome. I thought so too…” I whisper back, as I squeeze his leg gently, his eyes closed and starting to drift into sleep.

“Hang on ‘Lio, let’s go inside. It’s gonna get cold out here…” I suggest. “You should go and sleep in your bed. With Farkas. Come on…”

“Hmm…” he mumbles, as I help him off the table and we shuffle towards the house, my cum still slowly running down his ass.

Once inside the kitchen we pause, as I grab a dishtowel and wipe his butt. “There. Goodnight, sleep tight…” We share a kiss, and after he stumbles off, I clean my own cock, wiping a few cum drops off my legs, before crashing into bed.

*     *     *     *

I slowly become aware of my surroundings. The room zooms into focus. White walls. Bright light. Late-morning. Morning after.

“Fuck” I think to myself. “Strictly platonic?! Well done Louis…” Ever since I can remember, Emilio has always been awkward with me after sharing bodily fluids, avoiding eye contact, not taking calls, “needing space”, etc. We’ll have to see how this turns out…

Grudgingly I finally get out of bed, find something to put on, and make sure I’ve wiped off any bits of dried evidence that might still shame my body in the pure morning light.

Warily I venture out of the spare room, surprised to find I am the first one up. I start making coffee, trying to be as quiet as I can. Before the coffee is ready, Farkas appears. “Morning Yank,” he jokes again, smiling and giving me a peck on the cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“Um, yeah good thanks, I think...”

Emilio makes his entrance not long after, the smell of coffee luring him out of bed. “Morning, urgh…” he grimaces. “Hey…” he says to me.

“How you feeling?” I carefully ask.

“I’ve felt worse,” he jokes, and smiles at me. “Fuck, we were quite drunk yesterday.”

“Uh-huh,” I nod.

“I must have passed out after dinner at some point,” Farkas points out, “as I woke up wearing all my clothes, still holding a cleaning sponge! What time did you two end up in bed?”

I look down guiltily. “Around two, I think” Emilio answers, looking at me. “Or was it three?”

Sheepishly I shrug my shoulders, “I can’t remember…”

“Doesn’t matter…” Farkas announces, before adding, “You know what we need? A good ol’ morning-after brunch. I know just the place.”

What was intended as a rescue situation, turned out to be a rather nice farewell lunch, all of us relaxed in each other’s company and chatting away, feeling much better after filling up on solids again.

Afterwards the boys drop me off in Los Vilos itself, from where I will take a bus back to Santiago, back to Antonio’s place, and after that eventually LA. We say our goodbyes, exchanging bear hugs and kisses, and promise to meet up again soon.

As I sit waiting, I feel relieved, even surprised, by Emilio’s reaction. Is this what it is like being a grown up, and finally making adult decisions? And dealing with them rationally afterwards? Are these events something I can expect again, even look forward too?

I’m yanked back to reality, as the bus door opens noisily in front of me.

*     *     *     *

Three days later, I get a message from Emilio and Farkas. They need to come to Santiago to pick up a few things, and thought maybe we could have dinner together, possibly go for a drink or two.

I smile to myself as I read this, because a) it means there are definitely no awkwardness between us, and b) it’s never really going to be only a drink or two with those two.

After speaking with my dad, I suggest they meet me here at the complex, we can cook dinner together, and then head out for a drink later if we still fancy.

And so we did, ending up drinking beer until 1am in a dive bar, close to the centre of town. Stories and jokes flow freely, as does the drinks. At some point Emilio does a disappearing act after going for a piss. Farkas finds him elegantly wasted, sitting sleeping quietly in a chair not far from the toilets. If ever there was a sign that we probably should get going…

Farkas for once realises he is probably too drunk to be allowed behind the wheel, and he decides to leave the car there overnight. We get a taxi home, sharing the cost.

*     *     *     *

Back home, we pour a Pisco as a nightcap. Emilio goes to the bathroom, but after a while he still hasn’t returned. I go check if he is ok, and find him lying face down on the guest bed. “Disappearing Act no.2,” I giggle to myself, before asking him if he needs anything, but he just mumbles, “I’m good. Gonna sleep…”

On the balcony, Farkas is having a smoke, I join him and we laugh about Emilio’s helpless condition and comical drunken conversations with the poor taxi driver.

Farkas gestures toward the table with questioning eyebrows that hover above emerald green eyes filled with mischief. I shrug and nod. He pours us another Pisco, as we continue chatting softly, the complex being dead quiet, a dog barking far away in the night.

We talk about family, religion, politics and love, drunkenly discussing different points of view, laughing in between, his eyes completely alive and his mannerisms physically tactile.

He tells me that he loves Emilio, that he finds him to be his soul mate, but that part is only one facet of their relationship. I latch onto the theme, saying that I’ve also recently come to discover that maybe I need different men in my life, although I’ve always believed it can only be one.

At this he nods, explaining that you have someone you’re with, that you love unconditionally, but that you may need someone else to go to a museum with for example, or talk about faith, or play a sport with…

“Or have sex with,” I naughtily interrupt.

“Or have hot, dirty sex with. Exactly!” he jokes.

We take sips of our Pisco, our eyes meeting over the rims of our glasses.

He continues along his line of thought. “Sometimes you just crave something a bit different. Something to give you perspective, or make you appreciate what you’ve already got. Or give you a different experience, you know?”

I nod. “It’s all about experiences. Like not wanting to eat the same meal, every single night.”

“Right…”

More Pisco slips down our throats.

“Yeah, I’m definitely also leaning in that direction more now,” I agree, “Maybe it comes with being a bit more grown-up and comfortable in one’s own skin…”

“Ha, absolutely,” he jokes, “I’d also be very comfortable in your skin!”

“What do you mean by that?” I laughingly ask.

“You know what I mean Louis. You’re hot, man! Being in your hot, sexy skin. Having it wrapped all around me” he flirts, eyes flickering.

“Well, seeing as we are here, topic wise,” I say, looking around, lowering my voice, “I wouldn’t mind having your big dick, for a day or two…”

“That can be arranged,” he playfully replies. “Whenever you want, we swap. You take my thick, hard cock, and I’ll use your hot, sexy skin… What do you think about that?”

We sit staring into each other’s eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, watching him adjust his bulge, me biting on my lip.

“I’d love that actually…” I say eventually, my heart pounding.

“Fuck yeah…” he whispers back.

We look into the darkness, the complex swimming pool glowing blue in the near distance, both of us quite clearly extremely aroused.

“Say, do you wanna go for a dip?” I suddenly ask.

“I think we need to,” he answers, smiling naughtily at me.

*     *     *     *

We walk in silence towards the pool, towels draped over our shoulders. The aquamarine glow lights our faces from underneath, as we stand next to the water, kicking of our sandals and taking of our shirts.

I pull down my shorts revealing my semi-hard cock dangling between my legs, a thin strand of pre-cum linking it to my briefs now lying on the grass below.

He follows suit, his enormous dick bouncing as it is freed from its confines. He pulls at his balls, playfully looking at me.

“I’m going in!” I call, before I dive into the water, swimming a few meters to where I can comfortably stand. Seconds later he dives in too, heading towards me under the water.

His hand grabs my hardening shaft as he comes up to surface, his face appearing above the water right in front of mine. We immediately lock lips, kissing passionately. His lips are soft, his stubble bristling against mine, his tongue tasting of Pisco. He is intoxicating and making me very aroused.

Under the surface, my hand finds his heavy cock, also nearing complete hardness, feeling hot to the touch, even in the cool water. I grab onto it, stroking and squeezing it. Feeling it swell in my hand turns me on even more.

“How’s my hot, sexy skin feeling,” I ask through bated breath, “because your thick, hard cock is amazing, Farkas.”

He starts kissing me in my neck, sucking on my skin, making my nipples perk instantly, before whispering “It feels so good, you’re making me incredibly randy…”

With that said, I start pushing him backwards towards the side of the pool, all the while stroking his thick shaft and kissing him. At the shallower side, I lift him out of the water by his armpits, positioning him onto the pool’s rim, his now rock hard, wet cock glistening in the blue reflective light. His heavy balls dangle over the edge, his legs crossing tightly behind my back, pulling me closer.

“Fuck, that’s a decent cock…” I marvel, slowly stroking it, watching the foreskin flip lazily back and forth over his swollen head, the shaft increasing in girth the closer it gets to his body. I grab it round the base, an inch of space between thumb and forefinger, wobbling it in my hand as I lick my lips.

“I want to taste you, properly now,” I say, pulling back his foreskin, and licking the underside of his shaft all the way up to where the head joins, before slowly swallowing his meat down my throat as far as I can…

“Shit!” he says, suddenly tense.

I come up for air, looking at him. “What?”

“Hang on, I think someone’s coming,” he says quietly, hinting with his head towards the right.

Coming in our direction is a torch, searching from side to side in the dark.

“Fuck, someone must have heard us and called security,” I say. “Come on, let’s get going before he finds us. I don’t want to explain to some bonehead why I’m eating a beautiful juicy cock in the pool. Also, I really don’t want to get my father into trouble…”

We get out of the water as quickly and quietly as we can, grabbing our things, and briskly make our way back towards Antonio’s apartment.

In the elevator going up, I suck on him again. Now out of the water, I can more clearly taste his pre-cum seeping from his slit. I lap it up with my tongue, its flavour being more sweet than salty, as I try and squeeze out another drop. Once we reach our floor, I slam the “close door” button, before lifting his thick meat with my hand and hungrily sucking on his balls. One completely fills my mouth, soft and warm. He moans gently, as I play with it in my mouth, jerking his shaft at the same time.

“Where shall we go?” he asks, “I don’t want us to quit now…”

As the doors open again, I announce, “I have an idea. Wait here, I’ll be back in a second,” and quickly walk towards the apartment, trying to conceal my raging boner with the towel.

A few minutes later, I’m back in the lift with the car keys. He looks at them questioningly. “Don’t worry,” I say, “we’re not driving anywhere, but I do want you to take me for a ride,” I joke, as he ducks down in front of me.

By the time the lift doors open in the basement level, we are both rock hard again, the taste of pre-cum on each other’s tongues.

I unlock my dad’s car, open the boot and push the back seats forward, flattening it out, creating ample space for some dirty fun, and using our moist towels to protect the fabric underneath. “After you,” I whisper, and follow him inside, locking the doors behind us, the car lights slowly going out.

In the dim light he pushes me onto my back. “I’ve been wanting to swallow this thing properly down my throat for ages,” he says and grabs my cock, firmly stroking me for a few seconds, looking at it throb in his clenched fist, grinning.

He ducks down and wraps his luscious lips around the head, tasting my juice oozing out the top, before pushing his lips over my backed-up foreskin, gliding down my shaft, greedily swallowing my cock. The sensation of Farkas devouring my meat and feeling his stubble on my sack is amazing, and I just can’t stop myself moaning.

“Fuck my face,” he mumbles with a stuffed mouth, spit spilling out the sides. I grab hold of his head and start carefully pumping in and out of his warm, wet food hole. “Ahhh, fuck yeah Farkas,” I groan, as he grabs hold of my balls, pulling me in and out of his mouth at a higher tempo.

After a while, I pull my blushing cock out of his mouth. “Hang on, wait… If you keep going like this I’m gonna burst pretty soon…”

He laughs, “That’s the idea, isn’t it?”

“To be honest with you, I’m gagging to try and take your big, fat cock up inside me…” I answer, biting nervously on my lower lip, looking at his twitching third leg.

He smirks. “Gladly... I’d love to fuck you. I’ve wanted to fuck you since we first met, actually…” he says softly, looking down, before making eye contact with me again, looking at me with an incredible, burning intensity.

I turn around, positioning myself in front of him, holding onto the front seat headrests, and hollowing out my back, giving him full access to my hungry hole. “Well, here’s your chance - don’t hold back,” I order over my shoulder, our eyes again locked intensely.

He shuffles closer on his knees, I hear him spit, then a wet lathering noise as he lubes up mixing his spit and pre-cum, before lining it up and teasing my hole with his swollen, dripping cock head.

After a brief pause, I feel him slowly pushing it in. I gasp for air. It fucking hurts so good having his hot, thick meat slowly, painfully forcing itself into me, a sensation of being impaled and completely at his mercy.

“Fuck Farkas… Urgh….” I moan, eyes closed, trying to get settled. He leans over, and kisses my neck, whispering, “You feel amazing, you’re so tight…”

“Well, it’s…” I try and interject, unable to finish saying that maybe it’s more his cock, than necessarily my hole.

Slowly he starts rocking back and forth. I feel his meat pole slowly dragging itself out, then hydraulically pushing in again. He doesn’t even have to do too much more, the filling in itself being extremely stimulating and satisfying. He’s found my pre-cum reservoir, and is expertly milking it with minimum effort.

When he finally starts fucking me properly, I’m already so close to the edge, I’m basically spilling little blobs down my orgasmic cliff. As his thrusting and my muffled moaning intensify, I can feel my orgasm drawing ever nearer. I close my eyes in ecstasy, completely absorbed by the pounding this handsome Hungarian is handing me, when a sharp triple-tap on the window bursts the sexual bubble.

A torch is shining through the fogged up windows, condensation rolling down the glass in front of a security uniform. We freeze. Shit.

“Another tap with the torch. “Open the window please,” comes a stern voice from outside. I roll down the window, not even looking up at him. “What the hell do you guys think you are doing here, huh?” comes a question with an aggressive undertone.

“Um, we… It’s… Err…” I stumble. It is difficult to quickly think up the right answer, when you have an Eastern European baguette jammed all the way up your backside. “Fuck, what does it look like?” I finally hopelessly answer.

“I’m going to have to report this illegal activity,” he replies coldly, the silence almost oppressive. I watch his hand move towards the door handle, and then past it. “Unless you want to make it all go away…” he states, as he unzips his fly and flops out his half-erect penis, his voice suddenly salacious.

I look his medium length, but rather fat dick slowly rising in front of me straight in the eye, before looking over my shoulder at Farkas, who is looking back at me with a pained expression, shrugging. I let out a sigh.

“I can’t reach it from here…” I finally answer in a monotone, “Come closer.”

We shift over a little closer towards the window, as he leans in with his cock. Once I have it in my mouth, Farkas starts pounding me again. With every hole filled to the brim, I breathe heavily through my nose, with my hand gripped around my meat, jerking frantically.

After a while, I feel my redirected orgasm is back on its intended route, racing forwards, as I start tasting a different, saltier pre-cum in my mouth. The guard has now started subtly humping my face, his two-way radio clanking against the door.

I pull his fat cock out of my mouth for a second, spit dribbling down my chin, gasping for air. “Are you close, Farkas?”

“Yeah…” comes an almost inaudible reply from behind. “I want to knock it out of you though,” he states, as his hand replaces mine around my swollen cock, gripping it tightly.

With the guard fucking my mouth through the window again, and Farkas taking care of everything inside the car, I feel my balls lift in anticipation.

Suddenly I feel a warm load of unfamiliar cum squirting onto my tongue, as the guard ejaculates without any prior warning. I hear him groaning outside the window, hands slapping onto the roof. I take this opportunity to yank his dick out of my mouth and push him away from the window, before leaning out and spitting his load out of the window, finishing with an irritated “now fuck off.”

Just as quickly as he appeared, he disappears again - he was uninvited after all - but I’m too concentrated on other things now to give it too much thought.

Alone again, Farkas is going for it, slamming his massive cock into me like a well-oiled piston, sweat dripping from his chin onto my back. “Are you almost there?” he pants, using his other hand to grope my balls while still jacking me off.

“Yeah… You?” I grunt back.

“Uh, huh” comes the reply.

“Do it! I want to feel your thick cum in my ass.”

“Gladly…”

“Urgh, urgh, urgh, urgh… Uuuuurgh!!!”

I feel my seminal fluid rising up from my balls that Farkas is still firmly massaging, and travelling up the tubes to the base of my cock, where it starts igniting and leaving a track of burning pleasure, now travelling at speed through my shaft that is being mercilessly yanked by his tight grip.

Farkas edges forward, mutters “Istennek szent anyja,” and pushes so deep into me I think I might split in half, his balls sticking against mine, his cream bomb exploding inside of me.

Then I feel my load erupting out my head like a volcano, first hitting the headrest, then the seats, with the rest of my cum spewing onto the towels below my chest.

We stay like this for a minute, him stuffed inside me, panting and breathing deeply as the last of our loads drip out of our extremities. Farkas kisses the back of my neck, and as he finally, carefully pulls his cock out, I feel the floodgates open.

“Oops!” he calls, pulling his mouth sideways. “Sorry, I made a bit of a mess back here… Should have just kept my butt plug inside you,” he jokes.

“Don’t worry, we can clean that up…” I slur slightly, still drunk on my hormone endorphin post-fuck cocktail.

“We should probably get back upstairs before it gets light again…” Farkas suggests after a while.

“Yup… Come on, let’s clean up and go,” I agree.

“By the way – that was fucking fantastic,” he offers, smiling at me and leaning in for a gentle, lingering kiss. I smile back. “Hmmm,” I sigh, little tiny bits of Farkas still seeping out of my slowly shrinking hole. “But maybe we don’t tell Emilio about this…” he suggests, while I nod, also well aware of Emilio’s jealous side.

We take the elevator up, Farkas leaning his head on my shoulder, kissing my neck. Outside the door I take his bulge in my hand and gently squeeze it. “Let’s get some sleep, big boy.”

*     *     *     *

My phone is vibrating. I try and answer it, but realise it is my alarm. It’s 8:00am, and I’m lying on the sofa in Antonio’s living room, a moist towel lying on the floor beside me.

I sit up, scratch my head, and look around. I see two pairs of feet hanging off the bed through the half open guest room door. Farkas and Emilio. Half empty bottle of Pisco. Memory slowly comes into focus. “Fuck, you’re such a floozy,” I think to myself shaking my head, getting up to go for a piss.

Slowly everyone awakens as I brew some fresh coffee. Emilio looks quite hung over. Farkas looks the same as me, completely destroyed. Antonio looks fresh as a daisy.

He stands sipping his coffee, looking us up and down, and chuckling. “What were you lot up to last night then?”

“You know, Papi, just… life,” I offer, and start hopelessly laughing, still a little tipsy.

“Boys will be boys, I guess,” he shrugs. “As long as you stay out of trouble... Are you dropping these two off again Louis?”

“Yes please,” Emilio pipes up. “I’ve got so much work today. I wasn’t quite planning to get so, um… distracted  last night,” he says, looking a tiny bit stunned as we all share a chuckle.

“Drink up then, let’s go,” I suggest eventually.

In the Elevator going down I look over at Farkas. He looks back at me, his emerald eyes tired but affectionate. Before the doors open I make eye contact with Emilio. Same exchange.

We walk to the car, and as we get in, Emilio remarks, “Wow, looks like a bird had diarrhoea on the back door here or something. It’s running all the way down the side…” Once inside, he also adds, “Your papi’s car smells funny… No offence.”

I steal a glimpse with Farkas in the front seat next to me, both of us trying not to smile. I start the engine, and carefully start backing out.

*     *     *     *

After locating their car, and feeling relieved that it is still there and in one piece, I look for a space to quickly park so we can say goodbye properly.

We get out of the car, and stand around in silence for a second, all smiling and squinting in the bright morning sun.

Emilio is first. He comes over, hugs me and smacks a kiss on my cheek. “Hey, thanks for having us last night. And for some great times over the last few days, I really enjoyed seeing you dude, let's do it again soon,” he says, before playfully tweaking my nipple through my shirt, winking at me.

I laugh, pretending to be in pain. “Same here,” I offer, slapping his butt as he turns towards his car. “Let me know when you come to LA again,” I add.

Farkas is next. He plants a big, wet kiss on my lips, before hugging me. “Hey man, I had an amazing time with you, really I did,” he says, before whispering in my ear, “I’d love to fuck you again, as soon as possible,” subtly pushing his bulge forward and brushing it against mine from side to side, sending waves of pleasure and lust pulsing through our bodies.

“Gladly…” I mutter.

He smiles at me, then nods, before opening the car door and getting in.

“Ciao dude!” Emilio calls as they drive off. I watch, shielding my eyes with my hand, the other holding down my gradually expanding dick.

Once they blend into traffic, I turn around, and shuffle over to Antonio’s car, shaking my head and smiling quietly to myself. I think that as far as heading home for the holidays go, this one wasn’t half bad.

Sitting behind the wheel I close my eyes, pull down my shorts, and start to relive the scenes in my head, sucking on the wet, sticky finger in my mouth.

*     *     *     *