“I hear you want this, bud.”
I put the popcorn bowl down so I wouldn’t drop it. I didn’t know what the hell Tony was up to, but I was getting pissed, and my dick was already straining against my jeans. To buy time, I carefully licked the butter off my fingers.
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that there’s a logical reason for this visit, oh former brother-in-law-to-be.”
Tony’s smile was dazzling, as always, but for the first time I noticed he had a bruise on his cheek that looked remarkably like the one I was sporting. I smiled. Marcella didn’t take a whole lot lying down. Tony noticed where I was looking. He rubbed his cheekbone and shook his head.
“I do not try to figure out women, bro. It gives me a headache.” He fingered the slightly discoloured area. “When Marcella finished screaming and crying, she got real pissed off. Bottom line is that she’s not giving you up without a fight.” I stared at him, and Tony smiled nastily.
“Marcella says she wants to know what she’s up against, what a man can give you that she can’t, and if she can live with it. Since we are ‘such fucking good friends’, I have been instructed to set things up with you so she can see what, as she put it, you feel you have to do with ‘the competition’. Adam here is agreeable, so long as he doesn’t have to touch women. Your cock-sucking reputation precedes you.” As I stood there with my jaw hanging open, Tony waved at the smiling-faced golden boy, who was still fingering his now thoroughly engorged cock.
“I’m to tell you to strip naked and wrap your throat around this guy’s dick. Anything after that is up to my baby sister.” He picked up my beer and drank the rest of it in one pull. “Whatever she has planned, I don’t want to know about it.” He set the bottle back on the table with a loud thump. “I’m outta here. You guys figure things out, and I’d suggest coming to an agreement before Greg rolls into town. He’s likely to do us all in if he’s used up some of his precious leave time for nothing.” He leaned over and gave Adam a long wet, crotch-grinding kiss. “Damn, but you can kiss, boy.”
Tony stepped back and gave me one last, nasty smile. “Good luck, pal. You’re going to need it.” Then he was gone. I was suddenly alone with the Adonis I’d been lusting over so badly my balls ached. I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and sighed heavily, preparing to give myself the coup de grace I’d no doubt regret for a very long time.
“I am not going to have sex with you under these circumstances, Adam, though I do appreciate the offer.” I didn’t know who I was more pissed at – Tony or Marcella, or myself. I wanted Adam so badly I could almost taste him.
I’m not sure what reaction I’d expected, but his grin caught me off guard. He was even more gorgeous when he smiled. “I’ll stop if you say to, dude.” As I stared at him in disbelief, he moved to my side and unbuttoned my shirt. “This sounds like it’s going to be one really kinky scene.” He pulled my shirt off and tossed it on the floor. I couldn’t help shivering as he ran his hands up my arms. “A couple of the guys at Troubadour’s said you give fantastic head.” His fingers were fast. Pretty soon my pants and socks were on the floor and I was naked. “I want to fuck your face.”
Then his hands were in my hair and his tongue was in my mouth, and I was having trouble breathing any more. I was so pissed. I was certain we’d all lost our minds. But more than anything in the world, at that particular moment, I wanted to suck the cock of the man holding my face in his hands. Precome leaked from my dickhead and my face flamed.
“This is nuts.” I was trembling, and I didn’t want to be.
“But you want it, don’t you?” He whispered the words right into my mouth.
I felt tears sting my eyes, but I didn’t break away. I nodded. As his hands held my face and his mouth ravaged my lips, I undid his belt and shoved his pants down to his knees. Before I could manoeuvre us towards the nightstand, he reached into his shirt pocket. He pressed a condom into my hand and shoved down on my shoulders.
“Suck it,” he growled.
For just a second, I closed my eyes, wondering what the fuck I’d gotten myself into. But by that point, my cock was thinking for me. I did the one thing I could. I dropped to my knees on the rug, and, in one motion, I had the soft pool of latex unrolled and my lips were kissing their way down Adam’s dick. I kissed and licked, slobbering him full of spit as I inhaled the smell of horny man crotch and rubber. My tongue feasted on the taste of his swollen dickhead and his long, smooth shaft. With a moan, I gave it up and took him in my mouth. I let my throat slide down over his shaft until I gagged against him. I stayed there, my throat muscles choking and squeezing against him until even I had to come up for air.
“Fuck, man!” Adam gasped as I sucked in air beside him. “Do that again!” He pulled me on to him again. As my cock filled to the wonderful feel of his flesh moving into me, the door opened.
For a moment I panicked. Adam held me on his dick until I was desperate enough for air that I could only kneel there panting when he let me off. When I could finally breathe again, he pulled me back on until just the head of his dick was between my lips. Marcella laughed softly in back of me.
“Brendan, you would not believe how incredibly fucking hot you look kneeling there with a dick in your mouth.” As I twisted to try to see her face, Adam let me up just enough that I could see she was smiling. She was wearing a short black miniskirt with a deep V neck and four-inch heels that showed off her long legs and her cleavage. It was usually my favourite outfit. Tonight, the toe of her shoe rubbed over the head of my quickly shrivelling dick.
Marcella knelt beside me, her hand trailing over my cheek, just below where Adam held my face firmly against him. Her finger trembled, and I saw the tears sparkling in her eyes. She looked as pale and scared as I felt. I cocked my head at her, as much as Adam’s grip allowed. Her finger moved along my sore jawline, curving around to where my lips were wrapped around his dick.
“I want security in my marriage, Brendan. I am still so fucking pissed at you. But I’ve been thinking a lot this week, about you and me – and Tony and this jerk.” She frowned up at Adam. He grinned. Marcella took a deep breath.
“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, starting with that maybe your having sex with men isn’t competition.” She smiled, but her voice was shaky. She carefully chose her words. “We can call it quits if that’s what you want – I’ll even make Greg back off. But I’d like to try to work things out, if you want to. I really do love you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to keep the room from spinning. My brain was overloading and I still didn’t have quite enough air. But as I waited in the quiet, I was suddenly so very aware of the warm, living, latex-enclosed shaft between my lips and the musky smell of Adam’s crotch and the feel of his hands on my hair, and of Marcella’s finger resting on my cheek and the cool leather of her toe moving over my slippery dickhead. In my mind’s eye, I saw my precome sticky on her shoe, and wondered what she’d do if it stained. Probably yell, I thought. My lady didn’t take shit from anybody. As my lips twitched, my tongue moved almost on its own over the bottom of Adam’s shaft. He moaned appreciatively, and I felt my cock hardening under Marcella’s shoe.
I kept my eyes on her and I started to suck. I sucked deep and hard, letting the shaft slide out until only the head was between my lips, then taking it back in deep, in and down my throat.
“God,” Marcella whispered. “You look like your jaw is unhinged.”
This time I did choke. As I gagged around him, Adam yanked me off his dick, and we both laughed until I had tears running down my face. Marcella knelt down next to me and stroked my chin.
“I want to watch.”
I was beyond being surprised by anybody in the Torelli family. I looked up at Adam, who shrugged.
“As long as she doesn’t touch me, man. I am really not into chicks.” He pulled me back onto his dick. “You, though. You suck cock as well as everybody says you do.”
I ignored Marcella’s snort. I settle
d into giving Adam a blowjob that let my mouth live up to all the fantasies I’d had about having him between my lips. But when I took my dick in my hand, Marcella pushed it away. I turned to stare at her, Adam’s dick poking out into my cheek.
“He said I can’t touch his dick. I’m sure as hell going to touch yours, babe.” I watched, stunned, as she opened that huge fucking purse she always carries and took out a hand towel. She laid it on the floor. Then she took out a pair of gloves, a huge tube of lube, and a very realistic looking and definitely more than realistically well-endowed dildo and laid them on the towel. Adam burst out laughing, his abs bouncing against my forehead as Marcella snapped on the glove.
“You’re going to fuck him?” he laughed.
“You bet your ass I am,” she said. “I’m not into open relationships. But if I’m going to ‘share’, then he better get used to me being in on the action.”
I tried to move back to say something. I’m not even sure what, I was pretty much in shock. But Adam pulled me firmly towards him and said, “Suck!” Marcella’s hand moved over my ass and into my crack. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I sucked.
Oh, God, did I suck. While Adam’s wonderful warm cock slid in and out of my spit-filled mouth and over my lips and tongue and into my throat, Marcella slathered my asshole with cool, thick, slippery lube. She worked me open, one slow, sensuous stretch at a time. I groaned against Adam’s shaft, trembling as he moaned at the vibration on his dick.
“I stole some of Tony’s porn videos.” Her hands pulled in opposite directions, moving around and around my sphincter in bigger and deeper circles. “There was one on how to give anal massages.” Her finger pressed deep, right up into my prostate. I arched up to meet her. “Am I doing it right, sweet cheeks?”
I nodded vigorously, shaking as precome leaked through my dick tube. I sucked frantically on Adam’s dick.
“You’re sure as fuck doing something right,” Adam groaned, holding me even tighter to him. “He’s fucking swallowing my cock.”
Marcella laughed, deep and sexy. “Let’s see if this helps.” Her weight shifted as she picked up the dildo. The lube was cool as she squeezed another huge glob onto my asshole. Then she stopped.
“His ass isn’t at the right angle. Lay down, Adam, so Brendan can lean over to suck you. That way, he can stick his ass up into the air for me at the same time.” She pressed her fingers in firmly. “You wouldn’t want to argue with a man’s fiancée, would you, Adam?”
Adam’s belly rumbled against my forehead again. “Far be it from me to get in the way of a man’s fiancée’s dick.” In one movement, he’d pulled me off him, flopped down onto the floor, and kicked his pants off the rest of the way. Then he yanked my head down onto his crotch. “Suck, asshole!”
My ass felt like it was waving up at the moon. But, instead of being nervous, my whole body seemed to be concentrating on the feel of the word “fiancée” moving over my ears. Tears filled my eyes and I moved over Adam to 69, so I could take him at a good, deep angle. Then I opened my throat, and I worshipped that man’s cock. I licked and kissed and sucked while the tip of Marcella’s dick loosened my sphincter. As the huge head popped through, I took Adam deep. I worked every inch of his glorious shaft while Marcella slowly and surely slid her thick, heavy cock deep into my ass. She fucked me until my eyes crossed, laughing when she found just the right angle to hit my joyspot and make my dick drool. My nuts were climbing my shaft when she grabbed my cock. Her hand closed around me and she twisted up in one long, slow, squeezing roll.
I came so hard I thought my spine was breaking. As the come erupted through my cock, my ass-muscles clamped down hard. Marcella pressed deep, grinding her dick into my prostate. I groaned around Adam’s cock, swallowing him until he stiffened and the viscous heat of his jism filled the tip of the rubber.
I was shaking so badly and the dildo was so deeply embedded that Marcella just left it in my ass when she lay down and pushed Adam out of the way. His dick slipped free of my lips and, as he lay there panting, Marcella hiked up her skirt and I was face to face with her pantiless, glistening, musky cunt.
“Eat,” she snapped. And, God almighty, I dove in and I ate her cunt until my tongue was numb. Adam had barely caught his breath when he said, “Sorry, dude. I can’t watch this pussy business.”
“Lock the door behind you,” Marcella gasped. I flicked my exhausted tongue mercilessly over her clit. The door clicked closed, and she buried her hands in my hair, arching her pussy into my face. I shoved my fingers into her sopping, hot cunt and I licked her until she screamed. As her thighs squeezed my head, my ass-muscles finally loosened and the dildo slid out of my asshole, pulling me open even further as the heavy toy fell down and the head finally fell free.
My arms gave out and I lay there with my face smashed into Marcella’s pussy. When she’d finally caught her breath, she pulled me up until we were wrapped in each other’s arms. We talked until almost dawn. When Tony called in the morning to see if we were still alive, she told him the wedding was back on.
We eventually came to an understanding that works for both of us. I can beat off with Tony any time I want, so long as we don’t touch. She said that would just be too weird. Beyond that, whenever I want to suck cock or have mine sucked by a male throat, I have to bring the guy home, and the three of us retire to the bedroom when the kids are asleep. And when I want a dick up my ass, it has to be Marcella’s. She’s too worried about a rubber breaking to go along with other men fucking me, but I found I can live with that. Even in a three-way, when I’m kneeling on the bed with a latex-covered cock buried balls-deep in my throat and rough, male hands jerking me off and a gravelly voice telling me what a beautiful slutty bottom-boy I am, the fingers tickling my sphincter open are my wife’s. She fucks her huge, rubber shaft up my hole, and I come for her. Oh, God, I come.
Pleasure Domes
Kathryn Ptacek
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
– From Kubla Khan, Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Alexander Ivanovich Tamaroffsky – Sasha to his friends and family – had been riding bloody well all night, and he was damned weary, hungry, and very lost. But he couldn’t stop now; he had to travel when it was cool. He knew at least that much about the country. That much his guides had told him before they had abandoned him.
He had awakened one morning to find all his trunks, his photographic equipment and money, and his native guides and their pack animals gone. At least they’d had the decency to leave him his horse, what he wore upon his back, and the meagre contents of his saddlebags – the few volumes of Burton’s The Arabian Nights that he’d brought along, a few personal items, and the letters of introduction Uncle Vanya had prepared. Not that those were going to do him any good, he grumbled to himself, not out here anyway.
This was to have been his Grand Tour in this year 1894, a coming-of-age present from his uncle, a time to travel throughout the world, notably in the East, and to sample the exotic – in sights, in food, in drink, and in women. It would be, Uncle Vanya assured him with a knowledgable wink, an education to make him a man. It was his uncle who had told him from an early age of the earthly delights to be found for a young man such as himself.
Only now Sasha found himself in some damned backward country where they didn’t even have the decency to speak French – as all well-trained young ladies and gentlemen did in his native Russia.
He had been riding for two nights now, using Venus as a guide, always keeping the star to his right. It was the only way he knew how to navigate through this sea of sand. Surely he would come to some form of habitation soon. He recalled hearing one of the guides whispering about a town or something far ahead in the desert; the others had all shaken their heads when he’d mentioned it. Sasha would come to it eventually, he supposed, as long as he wasn’t riding around in circles.
His horse was thirsty and exhausted, and even now the poor beast wobbled sli
ghtly; he was sore and hungry, and he wanted nothing more than to slip into a comfortable bed and sleep for hours without swaying in a saddle. He was tired of the desert, tired of his adventure, tired of being on his own this way, and he wanted to go home.
But home was hundreds of miles away and, even as he thought of Moscow and the cool spring nights his sister and mother would be enjoying now, he realized that his head had nodded forwards onto his chest. He jerked upright and peered into the black distance.
Wasn’t that a light? He rubbed his gritty eyes. Was it close to dawn? Surely not. Surely he had a few hours of cool darkness left?
A mirage, perhaps. But he thought that one only saw those during the savage heat of the day. Perhaps he was asleep and dreaming.
He ground the heel of his hand into his eyes again, and then blinked. The light remained.
He kicked the horse, but the animal, already at its limits, could go no faster. They plodded forwards, and Sasha forced himself to quell his growing excitement.
Even as dawn broke, he continued riding in the direction of the light, which he could no longer see. He rode on through the heat of the day, with the sun blazing down on his bare head, because he knew he had to reach the light. Sweat poured from his body; the horse staggered even more; but Sasha couldn’t stop.
He rode for days. Sasha was barely conscious now, yet somehow the horse continued heading toward the beacon.
Finally the sun, red and angry, set in the west, and as a cool breeze rose to caress his blistered skin, Sasha saw the light gleaming in the dusk.
For a moment the light disappeared behind the rise of a dune. He reached the top, and then looked at what lay below.
Light radiated from a huge pearly white structure that was Oriental in design. It seemed all willowy columns and graceful domes and minarets, and for a moment he was reminded of the onion domes of his homeland. The structure seemed fragile, as if made of spun sugar, and he wondered that it could withstand the fierce desert windstorms.
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