The Secret Apartment

They had all come to the kitchen looking for him and Mr. Platt. That was, at least, what Stuart had concluded while sucking all those cocks.

Cocks like he had never, ever seem during his life. Hard, throbbing, real. Thick or thin, big, curved, tasting good on his tongue, leaving a soft, lingering musk on his nostrils. It was better than he ever dreamed. And he had dreamed. Oh, he had.

His feet were getting cold on the kitchen's floor. Someone had gone away to change the music. And someone else followed. After that first wild moment, the men started to drift away. But they were still there, in that little magical place. He was remembering his History Lessons now. The ones about the Romans and how he and his mates had giggles when someone mentioned a roman orgy. Was that how the Romans did it?

He moved closer to George Platt, reaching for his thick cock and playing with it on his fingers. George was talking something with Mitch and he looked over at Stuart with a grin. It was a clear green light so he continued to stroke it, to caress and look at it. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

"Are you thirsty, boy?“ Fred entered the kitchen again, holding a new bottle of wine.

Stuart shook his head but his glass was filled just the same. Fred was still hard. His cock swang ahead of him wherever he went. He was completely unashamed by his lack of clothes. So were all of them. Standing naked in the kitchen with a hard-on was natural as the rain hitting the windows outside.

George reached around, pulling Stuart closer to him. The older man was firm, even though he was getting a bit more kilos in some places. Stuart liked it. He liked it even more than the bodies of the others. It gave him a sense of security that mixed perfectly with his own desire. He liked how George held him. He gasped when the man's fingers caressed his ass, moving into his crack.

That little sound attracted George's attention.

"All is well, son?“

"Yes, Sir.“

When they skipped to the kitchen to be alone, George had told him some things. The first rule: stop calling him Mr. Platt. But when Stuart called him George, he shook his head. "No. Sir is better, Stuart.“ And Stuart nodded. 

"But you can call me son if you like.“ It did something to him. A warmth on his stomach that was damn pleasing. George nodded.

They started to make out after that. George hugged him tight and Stuart fell on his arms like girls did when he was the one hugging. He kissed George and his lips didn't feel like a girl's lips. They were a bit harder, firmer. And they tasted of alcohol and cigarettes. They drifted apart a moment and his quick fingers started to unbutton his father's partner's clothes. Soon George stood there with an open white shirt and nothing else. Stuart admired the work.

"You are a very handsome man, Mr. Platt, Sir.“

George smiled at him and nodded. Stuart was sure he had liked the compliment.

"Did you ever been with a man before, son?“

Stuart hesitated, biting his lower lip, looking deep into George's eyes. The honest answer was simple. No. He had made out with girls, but nothing more than necking them. Nothing more. And even that he did so the other boys would stop bothering him. And the girls too. Stuart knew how handsome he was. A football player, big guy, tall and black hair, fair skin, nice ass. He was the all-American boy they talked about. And yet, he was shy and meek like a nerd. At least, that's what his friends used to say. If they only knew... and the matter was that. They couldn't know. They couldn't know Stuart was an underwear sniffer. A perv.

George still looked at him, waiting.

"No, Sir.“

"I figured.“ George caressed Stuart's bare chest. His cock was hard, pointing at George as if he had chosen its north, its prize. "Do you really want to do it?“

Stuart nodded, this time with no hesitation.

"With you, Sir.“

"Why me?“

Stuart felt those fingers moving down on his body. They grabbed his cock, holding it tight. Mr. Platt stroked him. He was trying to think, to focus, but it was hard.

"I always wanted you, Sir. Whenever we met, I just wanted to be with you. And when you hugged me, I- I was in heaven.“

George was surprised. When Stuart opened his eyes, he saw that.

"And one day, when you came to the club to play tennis with me and my daddy, Sir, I took your underwear when you were showering. And I took it and I sniff it. And when I did I knew that I would be the luckiest chap if you'd fuck me.“ The words fell out of his lips without him thinking of them. He was the one surprised now, but George was smiling at him.

"Get on your knees.“

Stuart nodded and did it. George took him by the chin and made him look up. Like a good pup, Stuart did it. His dark eyes looking at that older man's face, full of expectation. "You'll do what I say, son?“

"Yes, sir.“

"Suck my cock.“ It was a simple order. The sound of the words still rang on his head, loud. Even now after he had sucked all of the others' cocks as well. George's own dick was getting hard again as the man kept playing with his ass. Fred was gone once more and in the kitchen, there was only him, George and Mitch. He looked at Mitch and smiled. The other man smiled back at him. An encouraging smile of some kind.

George's finger found his hole and he rubbed it. Stuart gasped and moaned, closing his eyes. His legs had suddenly grown weak. George's mouth kissed his neck. And went up, leaving a trail of soft, warm kisses until he reached Stuart's ear.

"Bent over the table and show us your ass, son.“

Stuart opened his eyes and nodded. He moved away from that whisper, from those fingers and from that hard, warm cock. He put his hands over the metal table and spread his legs. Naked, exposed, he bent his back, perking his ass back. It was smooth. He had not that much hair on his body. He spread his legs wider, feeling his hole winking, clenching and relaxing. He felt as handsome as ever. Even more.

"Watch this.“ He heard George saying.

Stuart didn't look back. He was watching the wall in front of him when he felt the fingers on his asscheeks again, spreading them a little. A blow of warm air made him shiver. The air reached his crack, making him feel it spreading under him, over his spine. He gasped and bit his lip again. He didn't know what to wait, but he didn't want to look. Not just yet.

"Sir.“

"Yeah, son?“ George's thumb reached his hole and poked it, pressing it as if it was a button

He couldn't say anything. He didn't even know what he wanted at that point. But George seemed to know best. The older man's face got closer and closer. Stuart could feel his breath on him, on his ass crack. Suddenly, he felt that warm tongue licking him from the bottom to the base of his spine. He couldn't help but be damn loud.

"Jesus Christ!“ He groaned, holding the table as if he needed to hold onto something so as not to lose his mind.

Behind him, Mitch chuckled. Stuart didn't mind, not at that point. His mind was on fire. He had never been licked down there. In fact, he never thought that was a possibility. And yet, damn it, it was better than all he had ever done. He wondered if anything could top that feeling of a man's tongue licking and trying to invade one's asshole. His pucker moved without his control. It opened, relaxing, and it grabbed it back. „That's wicked, sir.“ He moaned with a smile on his face. An enormous smile. His fingers grabbed the edge of the table. He stared at the wall, pushing his ass back against that face. Mr. George's face. Would he ever have thought about that, even in his wildest dreams at night? Never. And yet, reality had proved once more to be better, wilder.

George stopped licking, but Stuart could feel his face still there, his nose against his crack, his breath warming him up, dumping him there. He purred at the feeling, moving his hips just a little, rubbing it against his face. George moved back and that's when Stuart looked back. The man smiled up at him. And Stuart smiled back, drunkenly.

"Can I have a taste too?“ Mitch was close now. His voice attracted Stuart's attention. He simply nodded. And George moved to the side, leaving space for Mitch to come in near, to hold his ass cheeks firmly and to bury his face there without any delay or hesitation. His beard made Stuart's legs weak. He lost balance and he rolled his eyes back. That hair on Mitch's face scratched his bare ass, his smooth ass. It tingled but in the best way. His cock ached with how hard it was. When he opened his eyes, he saw George standing next to him. The older man put his finger on Stuart's lips. He took it in, sucking on the thumb while looking at George. He submitted himself completely at that point. His eyes on George's eyes as he sucked on that thumb as if he had been sucking on his cock.

George seemed to understand that too. He moved his thumb around his mouth, playing with Stuart's tongue, feeling his white teeth. A smack on his ass made Stuart bit the finger. Not hard to hurt, but enough to make George smile.

Mitch moved back, spitting over the hole before pressing his thumb over the pucker. Stuart moaned but the sound was muffled. "Shhh, son. Enjoy it.“ The finger slid in and out. He could feel his hole opening and closing around that. He groaned and rolled his eyes, the finger still deep into his mouth.

"You go first, I suppose.“ Mitch stood up, stroking his own cock as he continued to press the boy's pucker as if it was a button.

George nodded without looking away. Stuart felt the finger moving away. From both his ass and his mouth. He stood up, his breath uneven, his chest rising and falling hard.

"Sir?“

George took his hand. „Come.“ He said before pulling the boy out of the kitchen. Mitch followed closely behind. They walked down the hall. George spied on the first door at their left. He entered a moment later, pulling Stuart with him. Mitch entered behind him, standing by the bed as George guided Stuart to it.

"On your hands and knees. Here.“ His hands were on Stuart, guiding, showing and organizing. Stuart found the right position. His knees by the edge of the bed, his legs spread. He felt his balls and cock exposed as he spread them even more. He had never felt sexier, more sure of himself. He felt hot. And he knew he was hot for George. His ass was open, his pucker also exposed.

"Look at this.“ George said. Stuart thought he was talking to Mitch. He imagined the two men staring at him. His cock throbbed and he let out a low sigh. He was surprised to feel George's tongue up his crack once more. It fought Stuart's pucker, pushing at it, fucking it at its entrance. Stuart's fingers curled in his feet. He let his upper body fall and he bit the sheets of the bed. When he managed to control himself a bit more, he looked over his shoulder. He couldn't see anything except George's black hair as the man ate his ass.

He raised his head a bit more, looking for Mitch. At that moment, he felt a groan vibrating against his pucker. It was Mr. Platt. He was moaning into his ass. He moved his head back as he took a deep breath. „fuck, Mitch.“ He moaned and Stuart figured that the other might be down there, doing something to him. The thought made his cock throb harder. But Stuart didn't want to cum. He grabbed his cock, holding it as if he could stop himself from having an orgasm just then. It was too soon for it. He didn't want it. He simply didn't want it. He was too afraid that when his jizz was out, the magic of it all would end. Like it happened whenever he came from jerking off.

The feelings didn't bother him much longer though. Mr. Platt was back at his hole, sucking and licking and kissing. Moaning too. Stuart reached one hand back. He was not even thinking when he did it. His hand reached the black hair and he pulled George's face deeper into his ass as if he wanted more contact, more of that precious feeling. Mr. Platt didn't fight it off. In fact, that demanding gesture seemed to give a new fire to him. He was licking more widely, pressing the tip of his tongue down that hole, pushing it. Once, twice. He could feel his pucker giving in, opening up. "Mr. Platt.“ He moaned out loud, not managing to keep it in anymore. It was there and he wanted it. He wanted that invasion, he wanted more. "Please.“

The word made George back away. "Yes.“

He said and soon he was standing up. Stuart looked over his shoulder and the old man's cock stood hard and thick. His own heart started to beat faster, pumping hard in his chest. He could figure out what was coming next. And only God knew how much he longed for it. In his head, it was something he had already done, to his own shame even. He imagined it happening despite never knowing if it was even possible. But he wanted it. He desperately wanted it. And he wanted George's cock to do it.

Mitch raised form the floor, his beard wet as he licked his lips. "What did I tell you about this beard?“ He asked George, patting his friend on the shoulder. They reached out to each other and kissed. It was damn hot to watch it. From the bed, Stuart let himself be drawn into that kiss, his mind rushing as they finally broke apart and they both looked at him and his exposed hole.

Mitch walked to a pair of pants on the floor. He got something out of it and handed it to George.

"This is just to help us, son. Come now, laid on your belly. I'll take care of you and that pretty little ass of yours.“ He opened the small pot of vaseline and pick a bit of it, spreading over his thick girth until it shone with the greasy. Stuart watched it as he laid on the bed, his hard cock resting under his abs, his ass perking up.

George climbed on the bed, kneeling between Stuart's open legs. He felt the cream on his crack too and he sighed as those fingers lubricated his hole. He held his breath, clenching his jaw. A finger slid in and he let out a gasp, a groan and a cry. He closed his eyes, holding tight to the sheets.

"Easy, boy. Easy.“ George laid on top of him. His belly was rubbing against Stuart's arched lower back. His chin and lips were scratching and kissing Stuart's neck, his shoulders. All of him. Stuart closed his eyes and let himself be touched and handled. And worshiped. He was being worshiped and he liked it. "This is going to hurt a bit.“ George whispered. "But it will feel good. And I'll want you to feel good, son. It's all I'll want to do.“

Stuart believed every word. He opened his eyes and nodded. George's face was so close to his own. They exchanged a sweet, fast kiss. But it was enough to make Stuart relax. He breathed in again, relaxing as best as he could. „Please, Mr.Platt.“ He moaned, closing his eyes once more and bracing himself for it.

Between his ass cheeks, he felt a bit of pressure. That greasy cock throbbed against his butthole. He felt the pressure just there, at his pucker. It pushed and pushed until it slipped. He let out a surprised cry as pain rushed up his spine, making him tense up from head to toes. His tight, virgin hole chewing on the invader.

"Shhhh, baby. Be nice to your old man now. Be cool.“ George kissed his neck. Once, twice. He felt the warmth of his saliva mixing with his sweat. He tried to relax, but he could still feel that damn pressure pushing him to the sides, breaking him from inside.

Another few inches slid in. Stuart whimpered, lower now. He opened his eyes and looked at the wall. George had stopped moving. "Damn, you are wicked tight.“

Stuart almost laughed. He chuckled under the warm body on top of his. He moaned and breathe in once more. He felt himself giving in. "More.“ He groaned. And George obeyed. He pushed just slightly and a few more inches came in. "Sir.“ Stuart rolled his eyes back, lifting his upper body, feeling the pain come with something else now. Or maybe it was just his mind. He was there, being fucked in the ass. By George Platt, the man he had fallen in love with. Or so he believed. When he opened his eyes again, Mitch was sitting in front of him, hard cock as an offer.

"Take it, pup.“ It was George's voice. Stuart reached for it, touching with his fingers before swallowing it with his mouth. He moaned into it when he felt George's body pushing down.

"I'm all in. I'm all in, son. You took it. You feel me in?“

Stuart did. Every inch of it, stretching his muscles apart, occupying his hole, filling him up with cock. Stuart had his eyes closed. It still felt uncomfortable, true, but he wouldn't dare to change it. Not for anything else in the world. He sucked Mitch's dick, concentrating on another thing while George touched and kissed him, avoiding to move.

"You'll get used to it, baby. I won't move until you let me.“

Stuart moaned and started to move his own ass. Back and forth. Back and forth. He was fucking himself on George's dick while sucking on Mitch's cock. It went all down his throat now and he took it, happily.

"I'm sure you don't mind us crashing your party.“ It was Fred's voice coming from somewhere in the room. Stuart knew they weren't alone anymore. But he did not dare to open his eyes. He was too much into all of it. Mitch barely moved but he had put his hands on Stuart's black hair, messing it up as the boy serviced him. And he? He continued to move his hips under George's body, his hole chewing on that cock as he pushed back against it as if he wanted it to go deeper, to be there forever.

He opened his eyes suddenly, moving so hard that he pushed George away. There was a bit of a struggle as he felt it coming. He tried to stop it but it took him like a warm wave, filling him up. He felt almost as if he was peeing on the bed. For a moment, he thought he did.

"What is it, son?“ George asked, kissing his shoulder, lifting himself up a bit, careful not to take his cock out. But it was useless. As soon as there was some free space, Stuart moved, grabbing his cock and looking down at the bed. A dark, wet spot of his cum was all over. It made his abs stitch.

And it felt as all that magic was going out of him, like water going down a drain. He opened his eyes to see Fred standing there with William on his knees, sucking his cock as Fred watched the sex on the bed. He felt ashamed.

"Sorry, I-“ He jumped out of bed in a hurry, passing through the door and the hall and running over to the toilet. He didn't even close the door. All was a blur and he felt as if he needed to run and hide. What had he done? The feelings came over him as if he had stood under a waterfall. It was too powerful for him to be there too long. Soon he wouldn't be able to breathe and he would be thrown down the river. He looked himself in the mirror. His face was sweaty, his hair glued to the forehead, his cheeks red. He was panting, moving the muscles of his chest up and down. Stuart couldn't recognize himself anymore. He felt his eyes filling up with tears.

On the corner of the mirror, another man appeared. It was George. He came to him and without saying anything, he passed his arms around Stuart's body, pulling the boy's face to his hairy chest. It was a bit awkward, but Stuart bent his back nonetheless as the tears started to stream down his cheeks.

"Mr. Platt, I am so ashamed, I-“

"All is well, son. All is good.“ George was caressing his hair now. Stuart's arms embraced him tight as he had done in the kitchen. He held tight as if George's body was a safe place on the storm that surrounded him. „Shhhh.“

He stopped suddenly, lifting his eyes.

"I am so embarrassed.“

George was smiling at him, but that only made Stuart look down once more. He passed the back of his hand over his eyes, drying them up. "I have never felt so good in my life. And what I did. What he has done.“

He wanted to say it was a sin. But he didn't believe it. Not truly. Not anymore. The thought was there, but he didn't believe it. Being held by George, he believed in that. Feeling good to the point of shooting his load without touching himself, he believed in that too. He raised his eyes again and George had a paternal look on his face. Stuart hugged him again.

"I am sorry.“

"For what?“ George asked softly over his ear.

Stuart didn't know what to answer. He held tight and felt George's hands caressing his hair and his back. He felt it again, that warmth around his dick. He had just shot a big load, but his cock refused to go down with George embracing him like that, so tenderly.

They stood there, in the bathroom. He didn't know how long. But when they finally untangled, his cock was hard again. Rock hard. He chuckled, one hand covering his own cock.

"Did I hurt you?“ George asked, caressing Stuart's cheek. The boy shook his head. "Good. Did you feel good?“ Stuart nodded this time, looking deep into the older man's eyes. "The first time I did something... it was with William. I asked William to suck my cock. When I came, I pushed him out. He still had my cum on his mouth. I got up, zipped my pants, and ran home. I didn't go out for two days. And I ignored William for almost two weeks.“

Stuart lowered his eyes.

"I was so ashamed. I felt guilty. I wanted to go to church.“ George chuckled. "My mother thought it was a miracle. I even went, but nothing changed. It did change when I paid William a visit. He was in a worse state than me. He had even fallen sick. I took him in my arms and I asked his forgiveness. I went to visit him every day. And when he was better and we were running down the fields again, I repaid him the favor. I  sucked him off and swallowed it up. I was so damn happy, but the feeling of guilt didn't leave.“

"What do you do?“

"About the guilty?“

Stuart nodded. George simply shrugged.

"You get nice friends that understand you. For starters.“ They both chuckled. "But no, seriously. You find peace with your own desires. Friends help, God knows they do. They lift you up and when it all feels too dark, they bring in the light. What we do here, is... something. You may look at us and think we are just old perverted men, but to be honest, is more. I just wish we could live in a world that understood.“

"What?“

George opened his lips. And closed them again. He was looking for a word, a meaning. One that he knew, but didn't know how to explain. He scoffed, and gave up, shaking his head and slapping his hands together with a smile.

"Love?“ He shook his head as if what he had just said was stupid. It wasn't logical, it felt too small to be really taken into consideration. But it was the explanation he could bring himself to give. "Do you want some wine? Or... if you want, I can call a taxi, to take you home.“

Stuart held his breath. This time, he was the one having to consider the future. And his own choices. He let out the breath he was holding. "Wine. Wine is better, Sir.“

George patted his face with one hand. Like his dad sometimes did at home. "Wine it is, my boy. Come. Let's get it.“ George gave Stuart his hand and led them out of the bathroom and into the living room. "Do you mind choosing a song for us?“

Stuart had followed quietly. He still felt tense, the weight of his own troubles still managing to keep his shoulders down. And yet, he followed George, holding onto the naked man's hand. His recent breakdown staying back in the bathroom they had just left. He nodded and went to the disc player on the corner. The collection of vinyl was spread around, some out of its own boxes. Stuart started looking at one, then the other, almost afraid of touching. He pulled them back and laid them gently to the side. He looked at the smiling faces on the covers, trying to recognize something. Behind him, he heard the sound of wine on an empty glass. He felt butterflies on his belly once more. He wondered if they would do it again. For the first time, the pressure of his own fears left him to feel his own body. His ass that had just been fucked. He clenched it, just to see... it was still there, not so different, despite a little itch, a little push. He smiled and shook his head, pulling a Duke Ellington to the side and finding under it 'Elvis'. He had heard Elvis before.

He took the LP out and put it on the reader. He adjusted the needle and 'So Glad You're Mine' filled the living room with sounds. He got up, checking behind the box when he felt a touch on his shoulder. He turned and there, with his glass, stood Georgie.

"I like that. Who's he?“

"Elvis Presley, Sir.“

"So that's what young people listen to nowadays?“

Stuart took the glass from George's hand and shrugged. George was looking at him. All the time. And the more Stuart noticed that the more relaxed he got. The more beautiful and somehow desired he felt. Under George's eyes, Stuart was inclined to damn himself all over again.

Their glasses clashed with a light „clink“ and looking at each other, they tasted the red. It made Stuart's head lighter. George moved away from him and got next to the couch. He looked at it for a moment and looked back at Stuart. He put down his glass and climbed on the couch, his knees on the edge, apart from each other. His ass exposed to Stuart. George took a deep breath before turning to look at the boy. He put one hand back and used it to pull one of his cheeks. His ass was covered by a very light, almost invisible fur that got thicker the deeper in the crack it went. Around the hole, it was a bit more visible, circling that tight manhole.

"Come here, son. It's your turn now.“

Stuart nodded and walked to the touch as quickly as he could. He put his glass by George's and knelt behind the older man. George's hand was substituted by his own. Stuart had never seemed a manhole so close like that. The musk he felt there was different from the one he had smelt on cocks. And yet, inviting. He leaned in and lapped over the crack, fighting his own brain as it told him that it was disgusting. Stuart was done believing his own brain tonight. He was going with his instincts. The taste in his tongue was strong. The crack was slightly damp. He licked over it again like a dog would like his owner's hand, waiting for a treat. He licked again and again and George's ass's taste filled his mouth completely.

"The hole now, son.“ George's voice was a moan. And yet, a clear command. Stuart backed off again and looked at that ass. His grip left red marks on the cheeks. He closed his eyes and buried his face between the round mounds. He felt the warmth of it. The taste of it now on his nose. His tongue was working only the pucker now. That puckered skin that seemed to have a life of its own, pulsing against the firm tip of his tongue. He kissed it. And blew it. And lick it more. He didn't know if he was doing it right, but he hoped he was giving the man half of what he felt back in the kitchen.

"Fuck me, son. Please, fuck my ass.“ George groaned somewhere above him.

Stuart got on his feet immediately. His cock was once again hard. His head glistening from precum, from his previous orgasm. It felt swollen, bigger than ever before. He pressed it against the hole he had been sucking. And that pucker seemed hungry, biting and pulling, bringing his cock in as if it was sucking it. He let it slip and George put a hand back, holding Stuart's abs.

"Easy now, boy. You don't want to hurt me, do you?“

"No, sir, never.“ He stopped, not moving, barely breathing. He could feel the ring of muscles closing around the head of his cock. He bit his lower lip. It felt warm and so damn good. George pulled his hand away.

"Come on.“ George grunted. Stuart nodded and pushed in some more inches. George's moan was louder now. Louder than the music. "Deeper.“

And the boy pushed it all in. He knotted that hole and his body fell over George's, grabbing him, holding him from behind while they were so intimately connected.

"You are all in.“ George groaned. „All in, and damn son, what a big cock you have.“

Stuart moaned when he felt the hole closing tight around his cock. It felt so damn tight. His fingers could never. And yet, so soft. He started moving. He remembered once he saw a dog taking on a bitch and he imagined that if somebody were to watch them, that was what they would see too. He was mounting his lover, George Platt, and moving his hips back and down, making the older man groan and moan and curse.

Mitch entered and he was smiling. Stuart didn't mind. He couldn't mind. His whole heart and brain were focused on his cock. On the warmth that surrounded it, that tightened around it. He fucked harder, gaining rhythm until he felt fingers up his ass. He looked over his shoulder and saw Mitch kneeling behind him, under him. The warm tongue went from his hole to his balls, making the boy let out a loud cry of deep pleasure.

"Don't stop.“ It was George's order. Stuart kept going and he felt Mitch's beard scratching his bare skin for a little longer, making him wet down there. When it ended, Stuart barely felt it. But he did feel something again a moment later. A warm and greasy cock pushing his not-so-virgin-anymore ass. It pushed and it entered and once more Stuart fell over George's body, his own cock deeply buried into the man while another cock filled his own hole inch by inch. It felt big. The pain was there. But Stuart embraced it.

And soon, Mitch's crotch was on his ass. He was holding Mr. Platt hard. His arms around him, grabbing him from the sides, his face buried between the man's large shoulders.

"Move, son. Fuck yourself on Mitch's cock.“ George softly groaned under him somewhere.

Slow, he started moving back and forth. It was awkward to do it. He felt as if his feet needed some better ground to be on. He was on the tip of his toes. Every time he pushed back, he felt as if Mitch's cock was reaching deep into his belly. That feeling went out when he pushed forward and he felt his cock fighting against muscles inside George.

They lost track of time as Stuart did all the work, back and forth, back and forth. At some point, the music stopped. They could hear the needle scratching the end of the LP. And they kept doing it too. Their moans mixing with the sound of silence, filling it up.

"I can't-“ He gasped and soon he was shooting his load inside George. It felt as big as the time in the room but this time, he fell over George, holding him again, kissing the sweat from his back, feeling Mitch take his turn, find his rhythm, and continue to fuck his ass until he too was pushing it deep, falling over him, biting his shoulder hard as he felt himself being filled up with cum. Lots of it. He gasped and groaned under Mitch and over George and both men were making their own animal sounds too.

When Mitch disengaged a moment later, he felt cum dripping down his legs. He pulled his cock out of Mr. Platt and he watched it coming out of the man's hole too. He stepped back, dizzy, his feet touching one of the glasses and a bit of the red wine spilling all over the carpet. „Damn.“ He looked at it, cursing himself for a moment before turning to look at his lovers.

Mitch was on his knees again, mouth on George's hole, making out with it, his mouth slurping over the rests of Stuart's orgasm. The sight at first shocked him. And then made him smile. Here Stuart saw the wonderful freedom of sex between men.

At that moment, he knew for a fact that he would never get enough of it.