A story written by Pete Brown (Part 18 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)
Jake and I had a great night. It was as if Jake was trying to be especially nice to me after the cruel things he’d said. And as I dropped him at work the next morning I eagerly made arrangements to meet him after his shift.
I was so elated that I didn’t even remember most of the trouble the previous night, so when I saw Reb and Greg in the kitchen, and when they leapt to their feet as if they were feeling guilty, I didn’t make any remarks about them eating breakfast, and even sat there and had some myself.
After breakfast I knew Greg needed exercising in the new trap, but I had stuff to do, so I told Reb what was needed. “Look, it’s tough for you, Reb, I understand that – but Greg needs to get back into shape, needs to re-learn how to run when that belly strap is affecting his posture… So I want you to ‘drive’ him for a few miles. And make sue you go along Seven Hills Road – he needs to run not only on the flat, but up and down inclines as well to properly condition himself.”
Reb didn’t look very happy when I added “And don’t hit him too hard with the carriage whip – it’s only meant to be to ‘encourage’ him on…”
“I’m not going to whip him at all!”
“Reb, why can’t you simply try to do what I tell you, instead of arguing with me all the time? You’re a slave, and…”
“It’s not right! Whipping guys! And I’m not going to do it. You can whip me if you like, but there’s no way I’m going to whip anyone, especially not a young guy like Greg.”
“Listen, you stupid fucker! If you had let me finish earlier, I’d have told you that it’s in Greg’s own best interests. All ponies know that the carriage whip isn’t really designed to hurt them permanently – it’s more that the stinging bite on their butts ‘encourages’ them, gives them that extra spurt when they’re in difficulties. Along Seven Hills Road Greg will find the going uphill very tough – especially with a big heavy guy like you as a driver, so a little sting to his butt will actually help him. And if you’d stopped to think – no, you didn’t need to do that, actually, all you needed to do was to trust me – you’d know that Greg wants to be a good pony, wants to have a good owner, and so do you think that’s more or less likely if he’s in absolutely peak condition? Your stupid arrogance, not trusting your owner to act in the overall best interests of his slaves, might well mean that Greg gets another brute who doesn’t think he can perform, and who therefore whips him properly!”
Reb stood there glowering, as if he didn’t quite believe me – or perhaps didn’t want to believe me. So I snapped “In any case, what you think doesn’t matter much anyway, as I’ve given you an order. So go and drive Greg his morning, and use the carriage whip when it’s appropriate. And later today I will ask Greg how it all went, and if I find you’ve not been performing properly, I’ll punish you.”
“I’m not afraid of that….”
“Not of the pain, Reb. But suppose I decide to use the paddle on you, across my knee, in front of Greg? Would you like an obedient slave like him to see you humiliated like that? Or perhaps I should harness you into the trap – that belly strap would stretch to go around you, I reckon – and drive you in to town. That would be a practical demonstration to you of how the carriage whip only stings and doesn’t do permanent damage – a few flicks of it across that butt of yours, which would of course have to be bare for the proper effect…. In fact provided we don’t go right into the centre but stay in the business district you could go totally naked – I’d like to show you off, I think…”
Reb was still scowling, but I could see I’d won. “So get the fuck out of here and do as I say and take Greg for the exercise he needs.”
I mooched around for the rest of the morning updating my social contacts and stuff like that, then I saw Greg and Reb coming back up the drive, and went down to the back of the house to view progress. As I came out of the rear entrance I saw Reb towelling down Greg, who evidently had been really sweating – and I felt a pang of jealousy as I saw how Reb was doing it: tenderly, almost caressing Greg’s body with the towel, and gently running it all over Greg’s body in a way that Reb never did to me when I ordered him to help me after a shower.
I strode over to them, and Greg at once dropped into the proper pony rest position, with his head down, feet nicely apart, and hands clasped behind his back. I went over and ran my hands over his butt – it felt nicely warm – then took a closer look to see if there was any evidence that my orders had been obeyed. Both cheeks looked distinctly redder than the rest of his tanned body. I put my finger under Greg’s chin to signal to him that he could raise his head and relax. “So, Greg, how was the exercise? Was Seven Hills Road OK?”
He grinned back at me. “Yes, master. It was tough as usual – my old owner used to take me that way quite often – but Reb’s a good driver, master – he really knows how to lay into a pony with the whip. It really stung and I cried out sometimes as he didn‘t just flick at me casually as my first lady owner did, but kept on and got harder and harder as the slope increased, to force me to keep up an even pace.”
I looked at Reb, who was now looking faintly embarrassed. “So, Reb, an expert driver, eh? You kept using the whip…”
“You told me it was good for Greg….”
“I think you found it was exciting to have another man under your control, Reb! You only needed a small flick across Greg’s butt to ‘encourage’ him, but he says you ‘kept on and got harder and harder…’. It sounds to me as if your desire to control another man got the better of you, you were carried away with the exhilaration of having another guy having to perform for you.”
Reb just stood there, and because he didn’t make any effort to respond as he usually did, I assumed that I’d struck a chord somehow and he knew I was right, even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.
“No matter, anyway. Greg’s been really worked out, and that’s what counts. You two can use the gym for the rest of the day.” I smiled now as I said “And Greg…. You and Reb race on the running machines, I know. But I don’t want to strain you too much today as you’ve already been for a run, so ‘weight’s only, build up your upper body a bit. But Reb has been sitting there all morning, so he needs a real run – and without you to race, I don’t think he’ll really push himself. You’re an expert runner, so keep an eye on Reb for me, will you?
Make sure he’s got a good ‘style’, and that he’s really pushing himself – he needs to do at least six miles – and I think you’d better take the carriage whip with you: stand behind him and if he shows any sin of slacking, ‘encourage’ him a little, just a few light strokes across his butt, as he’s been doing to you all morning, to keep him focussed and concentrated.”
I walked off before either of them could say anything. I had enough confidence in Greg’s training and desire to be a ‘good’ slave that he would do as I said. And Reb would have to go along with it – he’d hate it, not because of the pain, but because he’d feel utterly dominated by a young guy and know he was powerless to change things. That in itself would be good for Reb’s development – he was too much used to being the dominant one, and maybe he would learn something from this experience.
At lunch time I deliberately left the two of them alone, but I watched out of the window as they had big thick sandwiches that Reb must have made. It amused me to see that although Greg sprawled on one of the chairs by the pool, Reb stood there as he wolfed down his – could it be that his butt was a little tender after his morning’s workout?
I wanted to be ready for anything when I picked up Jake later, so I showered and shaved, and managed to stop myself from the reflex of spraying deodorant into my pits and putting on my expensive aftershave – I loved the scent of Jake, and I wanted him to have the joy of mine, too. I didn’t want to have him experience that awful sour taste from the chemicals
when he nuzzled my pits It was only after I’d finished and was pulling on fresh, crisp neatly-ironed boxer shorts that I realised I hadn’t used Reb! I’d been so wrapped up with thoughts of Jake that I’d been sort of on autopilot, and had gone through my usual routine, learned for so many years, totally forgetting the added abilities I now had to have my slave help me.
The excitement of the thought of having another night with Jake was so overwhelming that I set out really early to collect him – I’d rather sit in the parking lot at S & D so that I could catch a glimpse of Jake the moment he came out than risk being even thirty seconds late if there was traffic. So there I was, in a prime position, opposite the employee entrance, when my phone rang. I glanced down at it, intending to cancel the call, but saw it was dad’s number so of course I took it. It wasn’t dad, though – it was his PA, telling me dad had come back form Washington that morning and therefore expected to be home tonight. He was looking forward to seeing me on the platform for the 19:22 arrival – and the PA then laughed and said that of course if Mr Masters got held up as he often did, they’d call and give me the new arrival time. Mrs Williams was on her way, so that dinner would be prepared, I was told.
My mood of excitement and elation vanished as a bubble does if it’s pricked. I sat there wondering what the fuck I could do. There was no way I could take Jake home – how could I introduce him to dad? I had the wild thought of taking him home and then asking him to stay in my room until after dinner – after all there was all the entertainment he’d ever want so it wouldn‘t be boring – but then how would he eat? I couldn’t ask Mrs Williams to send up a tray, or anything. Or perhaps he could stay in the gym complex and work out – I knew he used a gym in town, and our facilities were much better – I could tell Mrs Williams to prepare a meal to go out there for Reb, and to make sure there was plenty… So Jake could share that. Or…. No! I stopped myself. None of this would work – well, it might work, but the risks would be enormous. And what about the morning? Jake needed to go to work, and I might need to take dad to the early train at about the same time – Jake might object to having to walk in. The whole thing looked as if it was gong to be a fucking disaster.
I was stopped in my pondering as Jake emerged, waved at me, and strode across the parking lot. He flung open the door, slid into the seat with that lovely athletic ability he has, leaned over, pulled my head close to his, and kissed me. I pulled away.
“Steve, still ashamed of me? Still worried some of your buddies might see? How many of your buddies do you think there are likely to be in the parking lot here?”
“No, it’s not that.” I hesitated, and Jake reached over and kissed me again, and this time I let him go on for some time before it seemed ‘natural’ to stop. I slumped back in my seat.
“So, what’s the matter?”
“Jake, I’m sorry, but I can’t see you tonight… I’ll take you back to your place…”
Jake moved away from me, as far as he could in the confines of the car, and looked at me. “Why?”
“Something’s come up….”
“Something that isn’t that dick of yours, obviously! What’s the matter? Tired of me already? Or has that buddy Bobby you keep telling me about come back to town and you’re off for a night of passion with him?”
“No. Bobby and me aren’t like that. He’s not a fag…”
“So what are you doing that’s more important than us two? Or have you just had your fun, Steve has learned a bit more about real life, and now you’re finished with me?”
Oh fuck me! That’s the first time Jake had referred to ‘us’. “Jake, it’s difficult… I’ve got to meet dad off the train tonight…”
“Well that’s OK, then. I’ll come with you. There’s just about room in the back of this car if I sit crossways on the way back.”
“No… I mean, it would be a shock to dad….”
“OK, so I’ll stay and spend some time with our slave, maybe take him for a run in our trap, and then we can all have dinner together…”
It was getting worse! ‘Our slave… Our trap…’. “Jake, I need to find the right time, approach dad in the right way…”
Jake stared at me now. “What you mean, Steve, is that you’re so fucking worried about your dad’s opinion that you’re afraid to introduce us. You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you, Steve?”
“No, of course not. How could I be ashamed of you? You’re a great guy, you know that, you know I love being with you…”
“Love being with me when dad’s not around, you mean. I get the message, Steve: I’m fun, a nice guy, OK for Steve to play with, but as soon as dad’s back, as soon as you think he might not approve, that’s it.”
“Yes… No…. I don’t know…”
“Is it that your dad wouldn’t like you having a working guy like me as a lover? Or is it that you’re ashamed of liking another guy?”
“No… Yes… I don’t know…”
“Make up your mind, Steve! Do you want to spend time with me today?”
“Well we could spend time together – go to your place… Then I could go to the station….”
“So you’d like to fuck. Then you’d like to meet dad.”
“Well that’s OK. We’ll fuck, then we’ll both go to the station…”
Jake opened the door, got out, leaned down and said firmly but with an angry tone in his voice “See you around, Steve, sometime, perhaps. I thought you could turn into a real regular guy, but I was wrong. Hurry on to daddy, then.”
I shouted “Jake…”, but he’d slammed the door and was striding away towards the exit. I wanted to run after him, wanted to beg him, plead with him, tell him he was wrong… But something stopped me. There were other people around. I couldn’t make a scene in public. What would they think if they saw me and Jake arguing and shouting? So I sat there, then wiped at my eyes to stop the dampness turning into tears, and drove home.
Mrs Williams had arrived and was bustling around preparing dinner as “Mr Masters would want some proper food after all that time in hotels”, and her chattering away about her visit to her sister and all that crap instead of being welcome and fun as it usually was simply added to my misery. I turned, told her that Reb would need a lot of food (he’d need to share it with Greg) and would eat out at the pool, and went up to my room.
I sat there fiddling with my stuff. Turned on some of my very favourite porn. But it was useless. I was in despair – all this stuff didn’t matter – it was Jake I wanted. And I’d really
fucked it up. But how could I introduce Jake to dad? All sorts of wild ideas went through my head – I’d hired him to help me work out in our gym. I’d hired him to train Reb… Yes, that might work. But then Jake would never do it – he’d tell dad about us. There didn’t seem to be any way out of this.
The only thing that pulled me out of my torpor and worry was the fact that I had to leave for the station. How different the drive and the wait for the train was now compared to how it had been only a few days ago when the world seemed so different. Indeed, how very different from how it had been only this morning.
Dad got off and the his arms around me and we hugged. But then I saw Ray, who gave a small wave and called “Hi, Steve…”
I did my best to ignore him, but dad asked “How does he know you, Steve?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know… Does it matter?”
“He’s a notorious homosexual! It’s a pity really as he’s a suburb litigator, but he’ll never get to the top.”
“Because he’s a notorious homosexual!”
“That sounds very prejudicial, dad! Try replacing ‘homosexual’ with ‘black’ or ‘Jew‘ or ‘woman’… I thought lawyers were not prejudiced.”
“Of course we’re not! It’s illegal. But there’s a difference between employing homosexuals – there are probably several in my own firm – and letting them in to the partners’ meetings. Anyway, you’re avoiding the question. How does he know you?”
“Oh, um, well…” I simply couldn’t tell dad the truth. “It was at Scabbard & Drass, when I was buying Reb. He was in there buying a slave, and we got talking.”
“See! Notorious! I suppose he was buying another slave for those vile practices he indulges in, and he saw an opportunity to chat up a nice young guy like you. Be very careful of men like that, Steve.”
I felt even worse now, as there seemed to be no way I could admit to knowing Ray and Stu, but I was saved from having to invent anything else because dad wanted to tell me – tell me in detail – of his ‘triumphs’ in Washington for his clients. And it continued all the way through dinner, too, and dad didn’t even seem to notice that Reb was not there. It was
only after dinner when he was going to watch TV that he asked about Reb, and I said – truthfully – that I had decided he should sleep in the gym.
“I thought you wanted to train him as a personal slave, for when you’re in the frat house.”
“I do, dad. But he’s kind of…. Well, being punished.”
“I’m glad to see you’re making progress, Steve. Slaves need proper discipline.”
Dad then turned on the TV and I tried to watch, but I wasn’t interested and asked dad if I could go out. “But I like you here to watch with me….” He said, not very convincingly.
“Sure – but it’s almost time for your calls to begin, and I’d like to go now as I want to catch up with a buddy.”
“I didn’t think Bobby was back…”
“I’ve got more than one buddy, dad!” Another lie. And I got out as quickly as I could.
I’d decided to drive to Jake’s and try to reason with him, although it was very difficult – I was so tense I made a lot of stupid mistakes in driving, and could easily have caused accidents had there been much other traffic around. And I could hardly see as my eyes kept brimming with tears, which I had to stop from running down my face, as I was so emotional about seeing Jake, and about having to lie to dad.
In spite of my desperation I climbed the stairs to Jake’s apartment very slowly – it was as if I needed to postpone seeing him, and yet I truly wanted him, or perhaps it’s because I didn’t know what I was going to say, or perhaps it was because I thought I’d be too emotional and that might turn Jake off, or…. Well, I don’t know: I was so confused. But then I was there, standing outside, trying to muster the courage to knock. One half of me wanted him not to be there so I could avoid having to do anything, the other half of me was longing to see him, to feel his body against mine.
Jake opened the door, and all my doubts were resolved. He must have been having a shower as he wore only a towel draped very low around him – his hard belly and the top of his pubes were emphasised by it, and as he moved the towel swung a little and one muscular thigh was revealed. “Jake….”, I began, but then stopped abruptly. Beyond Jake, across the tiny hall was the open door to his bedroom – and there lying on his bed was a naked guy, about Jake’s age, with a great body: he was lying face down, his head buried in his arms, his butt thrusting upwards and his legs casually splayed. Jake must have been about to fuck him, which is why they were both naked – Jake had only put the towel on to answer the door! The bastard had wasted absolutely no time in finding another guy.
I couldn’t make myself say anything. I wanted to call him all the vile names under the sun. I wanted to throw myself at him and start beating him to a pulp for betraying me. But most of all I wanted to be away, away from seeing Jake betraying me, away from knowing I’d lost him because of my stupidity. I turned, and fled down the stairs, now blinded by the tears which I couldn’t stop. And in the background all I could hear was “Steve! Steve, stop….”
I managed to make it into the car in spite of fumbling with the keys as I was shaking almost uncontrollably, then sat there, slumped over the wheel, crying and sobbing as if I was a baby. There was a knocking on the window, a desperate urgent knocking, and there was Jake outside: he’d pulled on a pair of jeans but his torso was bare. I couldn’t bare it. I couldn’t listen to his excuses and lies. I turned on the engine, and drove off leaving him standing in the road waving at me.
If the journey in had been hazardous, that home was positively dangerous as my anger and tears clouded my vision, and in my misery and frustration I drove far too quickly. My phone kept going, and the irritating voice on it kept saying “Incoming call from Jake” and that only added to my frustration and loss, and I screamed at it “Refuse” and finally “Block”.
When I got home I threw myself onto my bed and lay there, pulling the pillow over my head in some futile attempt to block out the world. I didn’t even have Reb – in my arrogance and desire to have Jake exclusively I’d banished him to the gym, and I knew that if I turned on the TV to the security channel I’d see him and Greg enjoying each other. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep, and even though I flicked through all the porn channels it was tawdry and pathetic: just bodies doing physical things, not like how I could have been with Jake, where the emotional impact of him was even greater than the sensation of his body interlocked with mine.
But I did sleep, of course, eventually. And it was lucky my alarm was set as I wouldn’t have woken in time to take dad to the station – as you know I usually wake easily and swiftly, but today it was like dragging myself through mud. And the worse thing was that the moment I did wake I knew it was late, but that everything else was ‘normal’ – until the dreadful realisation hit me that I’d lost Jake, he’d gone, found someone else.
Dad didn’t seem to notice, though, although I could hardly speak on the way to the station, just answering his questions in a gruff monosyllable. As he got out he ruffled my hair affectionately and said “You’re eighteen in two days, and we’re going to celebrate. I’ll get my PA to book a table at ‘Le Cigare Volante’ – it will have to be after eight, as I have a business meeting – but you can come into town, and we’ll splash out on a seat in the executive coach even though you’ll be alone. But go to that A&F or wherever you like to go, and buy yourself something really smart to wear – I really want to be proud of you.”
I did as dad said, but I hardly noticed the chiselled bodies of the slaves in A&F, and there seemed no pleasure in my life at all – I’d usually have relished trying on different jackets, different pants, selecting a bright cravat to go with them, but now all was dull, all was flat. I went home and simply threw the packages on to the bed – not even being interested in the excitement of undoing them and pulling my purchases out from the layers of tissue paper, which is generally such a thrill.
Reb and Greg hardly interested me either when I went out to the gym, and as I didn’t want to have to make conversation with dad tat night I told Reb to come n and join us for dinner so at least he and dad could watch the sport together. “What about Greg?” he demanded “I don’t like leaving him out here all by himself”.
“Just do as you’re told”. I was too exhausted even to bother to remind him that that’s what slaves were supposed to do.
“But it’s not fair….”
“Reb, life’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’re a slave. It’s not fair that I….” And then I stopped, as I was trying hard not to think about Jake, and certainly didn’t want to tell Reb about what had happened. But it’s useless, isn’t it? The more you try not to think about something, the more you do.
Dinner was torture that night. Dad kept asking me questions, and I had to reply, but I didn’t feel like it. And all the time I could see dad listening to me, and was clearly worried that something was wrong. Well, I suppose he thought something was wrong physically, and he even asked me that, and I told him I was fine. Reb was watching, too, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into me as we sat there – was it just possible that he was actually concerned about me?
Once Reb and dad were settled in front of the TV I went up to my room. I thought about trying to call Jake, but what would I say? And would he take my call anyway – my phone was rejecting his, after all. The porn didn’t interest me – or, rather, I somehow couldn’t seem to get an erection watching it, and that made me feel even worse. I put my pyjamas on and turned out the lights, and tossed and turned for what seemed like hours.
Suddenly I was aware that my door had opened, and at first I thought it was dad. Then I heard the rustle of clothing, and the next moment Reb’s hard, warm body pressing against mine.
“I thought you didn’t want to leave Greg all alone.” I was in such a bad mood I was determined to make life difficult for everyone else.
Reb pulled me close to him. “I didn’t. I’ve brought him, too.”
I sat bolt upright. “Reb, what the fuck are you doing, bringing Greg in? And what are you doing in anyway….”
“Your dad thought it was natural for me to come up here after the game – I guess he thought I was sleeping in here anyway as I’m supposed to be your personal slave. But I couldn’t leave Greg alone all night, so I sneaked out and got him, and here he is….”
Greg’s body pressed against me from the other side now, and I shivered as he was cold, unlike the warm hardness of Reb.
Reb evidently felt it as he muttered “Yes’ he’s cold, isn’t he? It is out there in the gym – couldn’t you leave the heating on?”
“I didn’t think….” Even as I said this, it made me feel worse. It was not thinking that had got me into the mess of losing Jake.
Reb pulled me closer and whispered in my ear “But we could soon warm him up, couldn’t we, Steve? Young Greg likes to play, and I know you do, too…”
“No, I’m not in the mood.”
“A young guy like you not in the mood? I was never like that, I can tell you. And neither were any of the young marines – they were always up for it. What’s wrong with you, Steve? Have you lost your balls? What guy doesn’t want to play when there’s a nice ass like Greg’s around?”
I was annoyed now that he was suggesting I wasn’t a proper man. “I told you not to call me Steve! I’m your owner!”
Reb pushed his body against mine, and I could feel his erect dick stabbing at my stomach. “Aw come on, Steve! All that owner stuff is OK during the day, but everyone’s equal in bed, you know. Even the officers in the corps didn’t want me to call them ‘sir’ when I was reaming their ass…”
“I thought you were meant to be straight – all those rumours about you being a cocksman, fucking a lot of women.”
“Not rumours, all true. But when you’re out in the field, after a battle, you take what’s available, don’t you? And you know there’s not a whole lot of difference between a guy’s
ass and a bitch’s! And I always ‘top’, I always do the fucking, so it’s just as good – no, better in a lot of ways as you can relate more to another guy afterwards.”
“You didn’t relate all that well to me after the first time I had sex with you…”
“Because you raped me, you bastard! I told you, I always ‘top’.”
I wanted to say that I felt certain he’d let Greg fuck him too, as I’d seen on the security camera, but I decided to keep this secret.
“You’re not fucking me, Reb!”
“I could – you know that, don’t you? If I decided to fuck you now, when you haven’t got the prod and all that stuff out, or that friend of yours to help you, I could. Could easily.”
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Steve, hasn’t your dad ever told you not to get into something you can’t finish? You started that betting without thinking through to the end what might happen to you. Now it sounds as if you’re challenging me – perhaps I would dare. Perhaps your saying that I wouldn’t is just what’s necessary to tip the balance, to make me show you that I would.”
I lay there, silent. Actually, the way I felt, I don‘t think I’d have cared all that much, one way or the other, if Reb fucked me or not.
“But perhaps it’s your lucky night, Steve. I’m looking for a buddy to show Greg a few new tricks – and you’re the only thing around that even vaguely matches that description. So get out of those silly pyjama thing – didn’t anyone ever tell you real men sleep in the nude?”
I lay there, perfectly still, and Reb sounded almost cheerful as he whispered “OK, Steve have it your way….”, and reached out and began to pull my pyjama top up. I resisted, but probably not very seriously as I didn’t much care. And that made Reb pull harder… And before you know it, we were wrestling – not very seriously – to try to get me stripped.
There’s no way I could win in such a match of course as Reb was much heavier than me, and even if you’ve done a lot of college wrestling as I have you need to have two guys of approximately equal physique if the match is going to be in any way fair. But it was a lot of fun and I began to shout and complain about ‘unfair tactics’ as Reb grabbed for my dick, and pretended to be hurt when he triumphantly slapped my butt to show he’d succeeded and I was naked.
All that physical stuff had distracted me – I hadn’t thought about Jake as we were doing it – and now as all three of us lay there naked, with me panting a lot from my exertions, I found I was erect.
“OK, Steve, I guess you‘ve never double fucked a guy have you?”
“You mean one fucking his ass, the other his throat?”
“No. That’s spit roasting. Anyone can do that. Double fucking is where two guys go up his ass simultaneously – it needs two guy with quite long dicks to actually make it possible – so that’s me, and you, I suppose…” Reb nipped at my ear lobe as he said this, so I knew he was kind of joking about not being sure about my dick.
“If you doubt my dick is long enough, perhaps I should fuck you again: you complained enough the first time about it” I hissed back at him.
Reb ignored me. Then he was almost laughing as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper “Anyway, you lie there, and Greg will lower his ass down onto your dick. And then when you’re right in, he’ll lie forward on you, and I’ll come up behind and put my dick in as well. It’ll be tough for Greg as his asshole has to really stretch – but a lot of fun for us: when I’ve done it before with a really good buddy, it was fantastic to feel his dick all along mine as we both enjoyed the grip of the other guy’s ass….”
Well, what can I say? We did. It took a few attempts, as my dick tended to slip out of Greg as he leaned forward on me. But once we’d practised – which was in itself a lot of fun – we managed it, and Reb was right: I’ve never felt so close, so totally intimate with another guy, as I did when Reb’s dick was almost like a Siamese twin to mine. And afterwards all three of us slept together in a tangle of arms and legs, and it felt utterly right.
Of course it only helped me to forget Jake until the next morning, when I woke up to find that dreadful emptiness still inside me.