I stood in the backyard of my parents’ house, sweat dripping down my brow. 95 degrees, not even 2 pm yet, and I was already drenched.
The push mower was a bear, but it was a workout at least. Trimming the lawn in front of the house, all for a little measly cash? I might be embarrassed, but I was bored and desperate. After all, what else did I have to do?
We’d moved from Illinois to Tucson the year prior, my family and I, uprooting my entire life in the process. A new school for my senior year, and a whole new set of friends to make. It had been awkward and uncomfortable to say the least, trying to fit in with kids who had known each other practically since birth. By the time I graduated that next spring, I was still pretty much a lone wolf.
Not that it mattered. Just two more months of summer and I’d head out east for my freshman year. All I had to do was wait out this suburban hell a bit longer.
Illinois hadn’t been fancy, but at least it had character. The neighborhood my parents moved to in Arizona could have been anywhere, rows of identical-looking new-build homes. And most of our neighbors were the same, too—families with two kids, many of them around my age,
That is, except for Ryan and Joe.
Somehow, in the backwaters of America, we lived next door to the first real, live gay couple I’d ever met. People spoke of them with mild fascination. My dad commented behind closed doors, of course, asking which one of them was the wife. He wasn’t homophobic per se, he just didn’t know how to place them. Nor did I really.
While they’d always been nothing but friendly and polite, I’d kept a bit of a safe distance. And for arguably good reason. Any proximity might reveal the very fact that I had been trying to reconcile for the past year for myself.
I wasn’t so sure about my own sexuality.
“Cole!” I heard my name called out from behind me as I rounded the side of the house towards the front yard.
I turned to see Joe—broad, shaved head, perfectly manicured beard. He was a big guy, and he might have cut an intimidating figure if he hadn’t exuded such warmth.
“How’s it going, buddy?” he asked, eyeing me hard at work.
“Hanging in,” I replied. “It’s hot as fuck.”
“I know, wild.” He laughed. “Never will get used to this after a childhood in Massachusetts.”
My face softened. “Didn’t realize you weren’t from here.”
Another outlier.
“God, no. Work transfer. If you couldn’t tell, there aren’t a lot of other…people like us around here.”
I appreciated his honesty, that he, too, wondered how he’d ended up here. And, I realized, I had to give him credit. Being one-half of the only gay couple in a very straight neighborhood? Must be uncomfortable.
“Your mom said you were staying here solo this week. Told her I’d keep an eye on you.”
I shook my head. “Thinks I can’t take care of myself. Always so worried.”
“Well, that’s what Moms do.”
It was the longest we’d ever spoken, and I found his entire demeanor disarming. Despite my initial hesitation, I was struck by how comfortable I felt around him. He was very attractive, far more so than most of the guys in town, which was another reason I’d steered clear. It was intoxicating, and he had the confidence of age to buoy him. Men like him—late 30s, early 40s—they had this mastery and command over their being and bodies that seemed unimaginable. It stirred up something inside me—not quite jealousy per se, but envy.
Why couldn’t I look like that? I wondered.
Somehow, it felt like I would perpetually be in the body of a boy while everyone else was a man.
“Listen,” Joe continued. “She said you were looking for some spare cash. We’ve got some yard work for you, if you’re interested. And if you can bear the heat.”
I stared up at the sky, the sun already blazing down and showing no sign of cloud cover. It was hot, but I could manage. And I had barely anything else going on.
“Why not,” I replied. “I’m in.”
“How’s this afternoon? Maybe beat the heat by starting around 4 or so?”
I nodded in affirmation, touched by his generosity and that he’d thought of me—that he would think of me at all, really.
I headed next door to Ryan and Joe’s later that afternoon, the sun having receded just behind the mountains, the smallest reprieve.
When the door opened, Joe’s husband, Ryan, stood before me, a broad smile on his face.
It was remarkable. They were always so friendly. But whereas Joe was thicker, hairier, with a shaved head that was always perfectly smooth, Ryan was lean muscle, tanned, with longer hair combed back on top. He stood in a t-shirt and shorts, his tan set off by their crisp white.
“Cole! Great to see you, buddy.” He slapped my shoulder. “Come on in.”
I entered, taken aback. It was remarkable to be inside a house so similar to mine, and yet so entirely different. Same build, same layout, and yet an alternate reality.
Like my house, but if my mother had taste.
“Was just about to go for a run, but Joe’s gonna show you out back.” He eyed me for a minute. “You’re looking fit. You been hitting the gym?”
My face flushed. I was gratified that anyone noticed. “A bit.”
“It’s showing, man. Good for you.”
There was something so wholly warm and encouraging about him, a refreshing change from most of the older people I met. They were all “where are you going to school” and “what do you want to do when you graduate.” Rather than being particularly encouraging or affirming, they were merely focused on the future. What about the right here and now?
Just then, Joe entered the foyer.
“Cole, you made it.” He nodded for me to join him. “Come on, I’ll show you out back.”
Joe led me through the house, every room a revelation of how much more beautiful mine could be, until we landed in the yard.
“As you can see, it needs a bit of a lift.”
I glanced around. It was just like mine, only they’d added a small pool and tall hedges for maximum privacy. It didn’t look like it needed that much work, to be honest—a light mowing, maybe collecting some leaves. Easy work.
Their backyard, “in need of a lift,” looked more pristine and manicured than my parents’ did any day. It occurred to me that they likely had landscapers to do this—in fact, I knew they did—so why did they need me?
As I glanced around the yard, a stirring caught my eye. And then I saw him—Ryan, through the bedroom window. Unlike the other houses on the block, Joe and Ryan had put on an addition—a full primary suite off the side with sliding glass doors that led to the back deck, just where we were standing.
Within it was Ryan, slowly stripping off his clothes and piling them onto the bed. I tried to look away, but something in me couldn’t muster it. I was mesmerized, fully consumed by the vision of Ryan’s naked body, his musculature, on full view before me. It was impressive.
While both of them were bigger than I was, and Joe a real bruiser, Ryan’s body looked as if etched in stone, and his deep tan only further accentuated it. He had high, tight pecs that tapered to a six-pack and a narrow waist, and then an ass that was somehow both pronounced and yet pure muscle. Whereas my own ass was like a wall of flesh, all my remaining baby fat accumulated in one place, Ryan’s had earned its prominence through clear, hard work.
And the skin. There was something about the skin of an older man. It was just the way it all hung, like you could tell this was a man who had lived. I don’t know why, but something about that was…hot. Desirable. These were men who had lived a life and were here to tell the tale.
Joe’s voice trailed off, following my gaze to where Ryan was still selecting a pair of running shorts, fully nude.
“Oh, Jesus,” Joe said, mildly embarrassed, quickly turning me around just as I snapped to attention.
“It’s all right,” I replied, brushing it off, half-dismayed to have been caught. I remained in a momentary daze, trying and failing to get the image of Ryan out of my head.
Joe searched my face, as if trying to glean a reaction.
“Don’t get a ton of guests back here,” he said as an aside. If it was true, it was a nice gesture then, inviting me over, naked men aside.
“Why don’t I show you where all the tools are in the garage?”
I set to work, starting first with the hedges and doing some light trimming before collecting all the detritus and giving the entire property a mow. In all, it only took about an hour and a half, and to my surprise, Joe was right. I did look better.
Leave it to gay people to know better.
I headed back towards the kitchen door, my body drenched. Despite the later start and being out of direct sunlight, the humidity was a killer. My entire tank top was soaked through, sweat dripping down my brow. I was a full, sloppy mess.
“How’d it go?” Joe asked as I returned inside.
“Easy peasy,” I replied. “Feels like you did this more as a favor to me than anything else.”
“Hardly,” Joe replied, handing me a glass of water, which I accepted gratefully. He eyed my body. “Looks like you more than put in the work.” I stood, self-conscious, trying not to make a mess on the floor. “You’re more than welcome to go for a swim.”
I glanced at the pool. It did look inviting.
“Yeah?” I asked. “Let me just go back and shower first. I’m pretty nasty.”
Joe demurred. “You can shower here, and we’ve got trunks for you.”
I glanced at him. It seemed overly kind, but he was intent on keeping me here. And I was content to remain in this oasis. It had been a bit lonely, the last day or so, being by myself. And everything here was so…nice.
How had all of this existed right next door to me?
Joe guided me into the house and to the primary suite, the layout…expansive. It looked like a fancy hotel rather than a house, with a large king bed, a set of walk-in closets, and a large bathroom to match. Beside a set of his and his sinks was a massive shower with about six different heads.
He placed a towel down on the counter. “Set up shop in here. It’s a great shower, maybe my favorite thing in the house. Take your time.”
And then he was gone, leaving me to my own devices.
I lathered up in the shower, the entire thing beautiful, open glass. The far wall of the bathroom was mostly mirrors, and as I scrubbed clean I couldn’t help but watch myself within its reflection.
I did look pretty good, I had to admit. While you’d never call me ripped, I’d been adding a layer of muscle under all that baby fat, and at 5’9, I had the beginnings of a chest, my ass—always my best feature—having filled out even further.
It was a weird thing to be gay, I was realizing—to be attracted to people that looked like you. It was like a feedback loop. The more I sculpted my body, the more approving I was of myself. I wanted to look like who I wanted to be with. And it felt nice that Ryan had noticed when I’d walked in. Nobody else seemed to. No one else seemed to care.
Fully clean, I shut off the water, climbing out of the stall and using the towel Joe had given me to dry off. I liked being in this space, with these guys. I had hardly been around an hour or two, but they’d made me feel welcome. Comfortable. Like one of them.
I walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, only to find Ryan before me.
“Hey!”
My jaw almost dropped. He’d returned from his run, and he was standing, shirtless, drenched in sweat. Beads glistened along his chest, his hair was tousled towards his forehead, and his eyes were a steely grey. Despite the run-in, there was clearly no awkwardness about the fact that I was walking out of his bathroom in just a towel.
“Joe said you were staying for a swim. Glad to have you. Just gonna rinse off, and I’ll join.”
I nodded, trying not to stare, my eyes flicking between his face and his half-naked body. He gave a little smile—kind, generous—allowing my gawking.
“Joe!” he called out into the rest of the house. “I’m gonna shower. Grab Cole a suit.”
And then he exited behind me, walking into the bathroom but leaving the door just slightly ajar before turning on the shower.
Joe appeared in the bedroom door, and my jaw almost dropped again.
He’d changed out of his clothes and into a suit of his own, a pair of board shorts that, on their own, were far from revealing. But they hung low around his waist, his barrel chest fully exposed.
His body was the opposite of Ryan’s—shoulders broad, his pecs thick and meaty, pronounced, all giving way to a worked-out abdomen that protruded just so, setting off distinct cum gutters. He was solid, heavy muscle, the extent of it concealed by clothing until now.
I stood there, suddenly self-conscious about how slight my body was by comparison. In their own ways, they were gods among men, and I was a mere mortal.
And then there was a compounding factor—a stiffening between my legs, the proximity of Joe in all of his imposing size sparking something deep within.
“Shower’s nice, right?” Joe asked, breaking me out of my mild panic.
“Very,” I replied, trying to keep my eyes upwards.
“Got it all installed last year. Ryan says it’s like going through a car wash.”
I let out a laugh, maybe too large. “He’s right.”
“Let’s get you a pair of trunks. Think you’re more Ryan’s size. ”
He led me over into their walk-in closet, pulling open a drawer from the built-ins, its bay full of swimsuits.
“Here,” he said, gesturing before him. “Have your pick.”
I glanced down the drawer. Most of them were small—very small—Speedo’s, in fact. I blanched. I’d never worn one before. I’d always thought them too gay, though I’d wondered what it would feel like to put one on. To feel something on my body that hugged me that way.
I hesitated, even more self-conscious.
Joe read my mind. “Too small for you?”
I glanced up. “No, it’s fine.”
“Take your pick, I’ll let you change.”
And with that, he exited.
I reached for a pair, almost like boxer briefs, lifting them up and examining them before me. Might as well give it a shot.
Dropping my towel, I climbed into them, pulling them up along my waist and then surveying myself in the full-length mirror.
They did look good. Great, even. And I loved the way the fabric felt, curving just around my ass, following its lines. I felt held, you might say.
But my dick—oh, my dick. While it was strapped down at the front by the thin nylon fabric, it was obvious that something was amiss.
There was no hiding it. I had a semi.
The combination of being so naked in their house, Joe’s presence, and the feel of this new garment was too much.
I tried to focus, to will it to go back down, a flush of embarrassment washing over me. But it was hardly any use. The more I thought about it, the more stubbornly it remained.
“How’s it going in there?” Joe called out from the bedroom.
I further panicked, trapped. I didn’t know what to do.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice, I thought, rationalizing.
And so, without options, I turned and exited, walking back into the bedroom where Joe stood before me.
He sized me up, giving my whole body the once-over.
“Perfect,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Knew you’d be the same size.”
I stood there, the cold of the air conditioning setting my entire body on edge, nipples turning hard and tight against my chest.
“Ryan said you’d been working out. It’s paying off.” The statement bordered on flirtatious, but it was softened by the tone of Joe’s voice—upbeat, friendly.
I blushed, looking down at myself in the Speedo, embarrassed. “You think?”
“Definitely,” he replied.
The flattery was energizing, reassuring, but it also had the undesired effect of going straight to my dick. His expression was kind, but betrayed something else. What, exactly, I wasn’t sure.
I glanced at Joe’s chest, his nipples wide, like saucers, also tight and punctuated in the cold. It was just the kind of chest I’d imagined feeling for myself one day, its peaks and valleys so vast, like a wonderland to be explored.
Involuntarily, my dick began to grow, the energy growing more and more intense. And so it turned further clockwise, sliding through the slick fabric of the trunks until it had reached the top, pressing against the narrow waistband and challenging its grip.
I looked down, the head of my cock ever so slightly peeking out the top, exposed. It was barely a match for my raging boner.
I glanced up at Joe, his eyes flicking between my face and the display I was putting forward.
“I—” I started to speak, trying to make an excuse. “Sorry—”
He shook his head, only the slightest movement. “Don’t apologize,” he replied, his expression kind, generous, as if making all of this somehow okay.
I glanced down at his own crotch, and that’s when I realized it. He, too, was tented through his board shorts, a thickness gathering that was only suggested, if quite certainly there, whereas mine was on full display.
I stood, frozen, my breath deepening, uncertain of what to do.
And then Joe broke the stillness, making his way closer to me until he was just a few inches away. I could practically feel the heat radiating off his body, warming me in the high A/C even though we hardly touched.
Our eyes were locked in a dance. I wanted so badly to reach out, to touch him, to feel every inch of that body, but I was unsteady on this new terrain, instead merely being led along, but a passenger on this ride.
He glanced down at my dick, the head now fully poking out from the top of the Speedo, my erection undeniable.
“May I?” he asked.
I hardly knew what he was asking permission for, but I didn’t care. I nodded back. Whatever he wanted, I was game. It didn’t matter. I was putty before him.
And so slowly he extended a hand, as if in slow motion, reaching his thumb and placing it to the exposed head of my cock, gently grazing along the slit where it had already begun pulsing out the beginnings of precum.
I smarted at the sensation, that one touch amazing, electric, better than anything I’d ever felt before. It was so subtle, gentle, that one hit sending shockwaves through my entire body.
He nodded, observing my reaction, before raising his thumb up to his mouth, running it along his tongue before replacing it down, this time massaging me in a wetter, more deliberate stroke.
My body shook.
“How’s that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.
I was beyond words, merely grunting my affirmation, my breath full and deep as I tried to steady myself on my feet.
And then, as if in slow motion, he lowered himself down, suddenly on his knees before me, that smooth, shaved head and those kind, gentle eyes, staring up at me.
I was mesmerized, practically floating out of my body and watching the two of us as he raised his hands to my waist, letting his finger tips graze along the rim of the trunks—the most gentle caress—before he found his way underneath their edge and began pulling them down, lowering them past my hips and ass, my cock mercifully releasing and falling before me.
Fuck.
It was a beautiful sight, my cock pointing out just inches from his face, this dad staring up at me, his eyes locked on mine. My dick pulsed at the sensation of being free, my balls tight and hard against the base, further clenching every time my head contracted, a new thread of pre-cum pooling at the slit.
Joe’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he moved himself closer, lips parting and mouth opening, his tongue slowly extending and finding the very tip of me, licking along the underside where the foreskin met the head, before running circles around it, teasing it in full, 360-degree motions.
My body shook as he did it, nipples growing ever tighter against my chest, my feet suddenly growing even more unsteady.
And then he wrapped his lips fully around me, and I almost lost my mind, body bucking back and forth in elation. He held me there, suckling on the head and flicking his tongue just along the underside, as if milking out pulse after pulse of precum with the most remarkable patience and dexterity.
I moaned even more deeply, entranced by how slow and gentle he could be, so focused.
And then he slowly lowered his mouth further, taking me deeper within, until his lips ran all the way down my shaft to receive me fully, his nose meeting the small tuft of pubes I’d managed to grow in all of my 18 years.
I threw my head back, practically yelping as he deep-throated me, the sensation almost too much to bear.
And then he pulled away, my dick once again standing before me, pulsing, fully slicked with his spit, the entirety wetter than I could have imagined.
Suddenly, I glanced up, having entirely forgotten where I was or what was happening.
And then I realized it. We weren’t alone.
Before me, in the doorway, was Ryan—body still damp from the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
I stood, frozen, about to pull up my shorts in embarrassment. We’d been caught. Or had we? Before I could act, Ryan’s expression set any concern aside.
He wasn’t angry or upset. Quite the opposite. He was smiling back, that warm, comforting smile, now mixed with something else.
Desire.
Joe grinned, glancing between my face and Ryan’s.
“Told you the workouts have been paying off,” Ryan said quietly, nodding towards me.
And then, without warning, he dropped his towel, letting it fall to the floor to reveal himself—his dick, too, fully hard, tanned and thick, pointing out before him. It was a full 8 inches, with the most beautiful vein running straight through, like a steam engine, balls big and heavy, somehow hanging low despite how erect he was.
I swooned at the sight, this whole scenario sending my body into overwhelm. I could have come right there and then—my cock hard and exposed before me, speedo around my knees, Ryan fully hard and pulsing in the bathroom doorway, and Joe, the thick, muscle dad with the enormous pecs prostrate before me. It was a tableau I couldn’t have conjured up in my wildest fantasies. And yet it was happening here, now, in real life.
“Ryan,” Joe started, looking up at me. “You wanna help me out?”
Ryan’s face broke out into a grin. “Gladly.”
He walked over to the two of us, lingering long enough to run a hand lightly down my chest—tracing my chest and my nipples and along my stomach—before lowering himself down beside Joe.
I couldn’t fucking believe it.
My two hot neighbors—the ones I’d admired from afar for so long—were on their knees before me, somehow having become the object of their desires.
Joe raised his hand beneath my cock, holding it between thumb and forefinger, and angled it towards Ryan, suddenly on offer.
“Beautiful,” Ryan said, looking up at me.
My face flushed for the millionth time, overcome by how generous they were with me, how kind—how full of flattery.
And then Ryan lowered his mouth onto me, slowly wrapping his lips around my cock before taking me fully inside, his mouth even warmer and more inviting than Joe’s.
I luxuriated in the feel of being actually sucked off, Ryan’s insides fully massaging the entire length of me. I’d never gotten head like this before, the kind that came from the result of real experience, skill.
Joe watched his husband suck me off, his eyes alternating between his efforts and my face, observing the way I received each rise and fall of his head with a grin. And then he slowly lifted himself up, placing his mouth to my chest—my left pec—extending a tongue and staring to flick its tight, erect head, grazing it just so.
I let out a deep grunt, the mixture of having my cock worked by Ryan and my tit worked by Joe sending me into the stratosphere. I’d never experienced anything like this, so worshiped by two men, so taken care of without any expectation of a return.
Joe lowered himself back down, Ryan passing my dick back to him.
His turn.
And so Joe began sucking me again, his full lips pressed fully apart, Ryan now watching as his husband started fucking me with his mouth, working me with greater and greater urgency. Inspired, working in complement, Ryan lowered himself beneath my undercarriage, his mouth finding my balls and starting to encircle them in slow, deliberate motions, all while Joe massaged me from tip to base.
I’d seen videos of guys doing stuff like this, not in a million years thinking it would ever happen to me. What would that feel like? I’d wondered. Now, I knew. It felt like every inch of your cock and balls worshipped all at once.
Ryan’s motions grew wider, wetter, his tongue finding its way further beneath me, just grazing the beginnings of my hole. I shook the moment he found it, like he’d found a direct line to something even more intense.
And then Ryan pulled away, Joe continuing to work my cock, Ryan reaching down for the waistband of Joe’s board shorts and untying them, pulling them apart and down, and allowing Joe’s cock to fall forward.
My jaw nearly dropped at the sight.
If Ryan’s dick was solid, bigger than mine, but solidly manageable, Joe’s dick was massive. Thick. Long. 9 inches, at least, cut. It was a dick that suited the rest of him. A bruiser, to be sure.
Christ.
Joe pulled away, newly exposed, smiling as Ryan caught my gaze as I drank in the view.
“It’s nice, right?” Ryan asked, running his hand along it, presenting it to me.
I nodded back feverishly.
I could hardly believe these two dads were naked before me, both of their dicks so hard they were almost exploding, each on their knees servicing…me.
They glanced at each other, some unspoken sentiment exchange between them, and just when I was about to try and change things up, to repay some of the favor, both of their mouths were back on me, this time meeting on either side of my cock, running in tandem up and down my shaft, lips just barely grazing as they jerked me off with their lips and tongues.
It was the most beautiful image I could imagine, each of them so generously working to worship my average, 18-year-old boy’s dick.
And then, just when I thought myself fully overcome, their mouths met at the head, tongues intermingling around it and one another, the two of them simultaneously kissing each other and sucking me off, the most beautifully choreographed dance of lips and tongues and dick.
As if sensing that I was edging to a finish, they pulled away, my dick pulsing before me just before the brink.
“C’mon,” Joe said, the two of them standing up. “Let’s go to the bed.”
They guided me across the room, seating me on the edge of the mattress before returning to their knees before me, expectant looks on their face.
“Can we see you?” Ryan asked.
I looked back, confused. “See me?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “All of you.”
I wasn’t totally sure what they meant, but I knew this—I trusted them, at least thus far. They’d shown me more generosity and kindness in the last thirty minutes than anyone had in my entire life.
That was enough for me. I nodded a yes.
Joe placed a hand on my chest, slowly pushing me back against the mattress. And then each of them took an ankle, gently and gingerly raising my legs in the air before spreading them apart.
Oh.
They wanted to see all of me. Now, I understood.
A wash of embarrassment fell upon me, both at my ignorance and also my inexperience. I’d never been so exposed before, so fully on display. I’d attempted to see what my ass looked like before in mirrors, always thinking it funny looking. And now here I was, presenting to them, like it was nothing.
Or more than nothing. Appealing. Desirable.
The two of them looked at each other and then at me hungrily.
“Beautiful,” Joe started, shaking his head almost in disbelief. It seemed to be their favorite word for me.
“I—“ I started.
They looked at me expectantly.
“No one’s ever seen me like this before,” I managed. My dick was tight across my stomach, pulsing out even more precum, the sensation of being spread apart at once uncomfortable and deeply sexy. To be admired in this way, in all my vulnerability—it was unlike anything I’d experienced before.
“We’re honored,” Ryan replied.
The sentiment was genuine, but still I was resistant, my hole clenching as if in defense. What did they want to do, exactly?”
“I’ve never—” I started. “I’m not ready—”
Joe placed a hand reassuringly on my stomach.
“Don’t worry, we won’t…”
Ryan nodded alongside him.
They understood without explanation. I wasn’t ready to get fucked.
“Do you trust us?” Ryan asked.
I did. Somehow I did. Despite barely knowing them, they’d inspired more trust in me in such a short time than I could have imagined.
I nodded back.
And with that, Ryan raised his thumb to his mouth, wetting it, and then placing it along my opening, his touch entirely gentle, like a graze.
I whimpered at that first sensation, my hole tightening further at his touch and then somehow doing the opposite—releasing, opening.
“That okay?” Joe asked.
I nodded back in the affirmative, unable to say anything more.
And then Ryan shifted, taking the backs of my thighs into his hands and pressing me further apart before lowering his mouth to my opening, lightly grazing it with his tongue as he had with his finger.
I let out a yelp, his tongue unlike anything I had experienced before.
The feel of something so warm and velvety against my hole, a place that I barely ever touched, let alone allowed anyone else near—it was like a million walls crumbling down. Being touched in that place caused the rest of my body to relax, as if a button that connected to the very deepest part within me.
Joe grinned from alongside him, watching as Ryan worked more deliberately and less gently, buried his face between the cheeks of my ass, tracing my rim with the most careful of precision, his lips clamped between my cheeks.
I bucked and moaned at the feel of a man’s mouth on my most intimate place, wondering how this was something I’d never experienced before.
And then he slowly pulled away before passing me to Joe, his mouth equally welcome, if a different experience. For while Ryan’s face was clean-shaven and smooth, Joe’s was thick with beard and mustache, both tickling the sensitive skin beneath my balls and between my legs as he dove in. I loved the sensation, the way he looked, a real man’s face eating me out, clamping down on my ass so hungrily.
Like he was eating a woman out, only it was me.
Something about that thought sent shockwaves through me, the way I’d somehow assumed a position so subversive at the hand of this experienced, older man.
And so they passed me back and forth as they had with my dick, each taking turns diving headfirst into my ass, their tongues lapping all along my slit, every effort only relaxing me further, until all the clenching in my initial anxiety had fallen away.
My dick lay tight against my stomach, barely needing any attention as they worked my hole in tandem. Somehow, I hardly needed to be touched, so aggressively was I riding near to a finish.
“I’m close,” I panted, the entire experience bordering on blue balls.
Ryan slowly lowered me back down onto the bed.
“How about we finish you off in style?” Joe said. He nodded to Ryan. “You wanna do the honors?”
“Gladly.”
“C’mere,” Joe said to me, rising from the floor and coming around behind me.
He lifted me off the bed, just enough to position himself behind me, to cradle me like a child. I lay back, the sensation of being so held causing my body to shudder. I could feel the warmth of his broad chest at my back, his pecs pressing against my shoulder blades, my head able to rest perfectly along his neck.
He ran his hands down each side of my chest, lightly grazing me with his fingertips. I shuddered. And then he lingered around my nipples, taking each one between thumb and forefinger and tweaking them, the sensation sending electricity through my body.
Ryan positioned himself between me, his finger finding my hole again, this time teasing it in little flicks. And then, without warning, he slid it just inside, pressing apart my walls with the greatest of care.
My body shook as he found his way within, Joe absorbing the aftershocks with his strong arms. Ryan remained there, allowing my body to adjust, hardly moving until I began to feel him tapping further inward and then, somehow, up.
There he made contact, to what I wasn’t entirely sure. If my opening had felt like an entryway to deeper feeling, this was ground zero—the mainframe. Tapping against that node was direct access to every nerve ending in my body, to the farthest reaches of my skin.
He took my dick in his hand, pulling it towards him and holding it there, letting it pulse as he pressed tighter against my insides.
I was so close to a finish that I was almost bursting, edged with almost no effort at all—entirely from within. But I hardly needed to articulate that fact. Ryan knew, his touches so gentle that he was playing me like an instrument.
I could feel Joe’s dick pressed hard against my back, only further inflaming me. I wanted it. I wanted to feel it. And so I lowered a hand back past his thigh, just grazing his ball sack.
“Can I?” I asked, half-wondering why I was asking permission for something that was so clearly on offer.
“Yes,” he said, voice a whisper, running his lips along my neck.
And so, empowered, I lowered my hand all the way behind me, taking his cock in my hand.
Joe let out a grunt, his body shaking from beneath.
It was massive in my palm, its girth unlike anything I had felt before. I’d touched a few friends’ dicks before, theirs not nearly as large in size, nor as impressive.
I was overcome —Joe’s massive form holding me securely, his dick warm and pulsing in my hand, Ryan’s finger deep inside me, my cock hard and dripping, only inches from his mouth.
And then Ryan lowered himself forward, starting to suck me, his free hand working along with his lips, tip to base, tip to base, his finger still tapping me from within.
It was all too much—or maybe just enough—the combination of so many sensations jettisoning me into orbit, my body quivering, shaking, barely able to contain it all.
Ryan began working me harder, faster, his mouth and fingers keeping time, Joe still tweaking each of my nipples, my face buried into his neck and his beard.
He held me tighter against him as I drew closer and closer, the orgasm building within me, cresting just within reach.
And just when I was about to finish, Joe took one hand and turned my face towards his, mouth meeting mine and engulfing me into the piece de resistance—the most beautiful, languorous kiss. Gently, deliberately, his tongue parted my lips, massaging mine with his, luxuriating within me as if greedy, hungry, the whiskers along his top lip welcomingly rough.
With that last gesture, I lost all control. My cock tightened harder than I thought imaginable, my balls clenched up with me, and my prostate rode hard against Ryan’s finger. And so I released, shooting ream after ream of come inside Ryan’s waiting mouth, his head finally still in receipt of each pulse, its confines warm and pillowy.
The perfect receptacle.
I bucked back and forth with each release, my body straining to stay still, Joe muffling my moans between his lips, gently holding my mouth in place.
I shook for what felt like a full minute, my body fully releasing everything that had pent up during the last half hour, the last 18 years, an ecstatic finish to what had been the most unexpected of afternoons.
It was the most intense orgasm of my very horny, if young, life.
Slowly, Joe released my mouth, my face turning to look down at Ryan, who finally lifted himself from my cock, his expression deeply pleased, my dick releasing down onto my stomach.
He nodded up at me.
“Easy,” he said as he began removing his finger from my hole, pulling it out inch by inch until it was finally free, that exit causing one final jump of my dick, one last pulse of cum spilling out the top and landing just below my belly button.
“Good boy,” Joe said, patting me lightly on the chest, ever encouraging.
It was a funny thing to say. I’d hardly done anything at all.
“Fuck,” Ryan said, shaking his head, admiring my spent body before him.
He raised himself, moving closer, his mouth just inches from mine. And then he, too, pulled me in for a kiss, his mouth opening to share what he’d received. I might have been grossed out by it, my own seed, but somehow I wasn’t. And the taste, it was far from what I might have expected. Quite the opposite. Welcome, delicious. Silky and warm.
He pulled away, nodding at me. “Thank you,” he said.
“I—” I stammered. “Thank you. That was…” I trailed off. I didn’t have words.
Joe ran his hands through my hair, tousling it within his fingers.
“Felt like you needed that,” he said.
I glanced between them, particularly at Ryan’s dick, still palpably hard between his legs with no release. “What about you guys? Aren’t you going to finish?” I asked.
They shook their heads.
“Not necessary,” Joe said. “That wasn’t the point.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, standing up, his body now back on full view. My dick was still hard, only further inspired by the sight of him again on display. It was the body I’d glimpsed through the window that afternoon, the body that had inspired it all. It was magnificent. “This was about you.”
I was confused. In all the sex I’d seen, it was a race to get off. Who could come first, and at whatever cost. Never before had I witnessed people taking their time or so fully enjoying getting someone else off.
“But—” I started to protest.
Joe interrupted. “It’s how Ryan and I like to do it. Focus on one person. Letting them fully receive, or at least let it be entirely about what they want.” I looked back, gobsmacked. “It’s like a gift. And we wanted to give it to you.”
I looked back at them. I’d never even considered such a thing, but I liked it. I had known they were good guys, but had no idea this would be possible. That they could be so fully and entirely generous.
“And, don’t worry,” Joe added, chuckling, “we always get our turn too.”
I rose up from the bed, suddenly unsteady on my feet. Between working outside all day and that insane finish, I was certainly depleted.
“How about some water?” Ryan asked, smiling, back into dad mode, seeing me wobble.
And so we made our way to the kitchen, still naked, Ryan going into the cabinet for a glass and pouring me some, Joe opening the back sliding door to let some air in.
I took a swig. They were each still hard—hell, somehow so was I, despite having busted the most epic nut of my life. I eyed them hungrily, taunted by the fact that they could still be so aroused and expect nothing in return. To see them fully nude, so relaxed and casual, their dicks fully erect, it was a whole new definition of hot.
“Should we swim?” Joe asked, nodding towards the pool. “That was the point, after all.”
“Sure,” I replied, still distracted by their bodies, by how easy and comfortable it felt to be with them.
I understood why what they’d given me was so potent, so enjoyable. Something was empowering about being so in control, in providing something so intimate and beautiful. I knew they wanted this to be about me, but I was overcome by a realization that I couldn’t let go of.
I wanted them to feel what I had felt, to repay the favor.
I wanted to give them a gift, too.
“C’mon,” Ryan said, interrupting my thoughts. “Let’s jump in. We don’t need our trunks.”
And so we headed out back to the pool, their large hedges affording us full privacy as we waded into the water, its cool temperature the perfect foil for the 95-degree Arizona summer heat.
I dunked beneath, the water soothing my disorientation, my body finally coming back to earth after what had transpired. The sun was setting, the desert light finally turning dim, an amber glow cast across the horizon.
I watched as Joe came up behind Ryan, wrapping him in an embrace just as he had me moments earlier. They looked beautiful together, particularly in a moment of such intimacy.
“I—” I started.
They stared back at me expectantly.
“I’d like to be here when…”
“When what?” Ryan asked.
“When you guys get your turn, too.”
They smiled, glancing at each other.
“I think that can be arranged,” Joe replied. “You’re a beautiful man, Cole. And I suppose we’ve got all week.”
He was right. It was Monday. My parents were gone until Sunday. Guess I wasn’t so alone after all. We did have all week.
And I was a man. Just barely.
The two of them smiled at me—warmly, generously.
“You’re sure you’re up for?” Ryan asked, trying to gauge my reaction.
I nodded back firmly.
If there was anything I was certain of, it was this.
It was on.
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