by Kris Klein
“You drove out here from Chandler?” I asked him, curious. I was worried maybe he knew Chuck; worried things could get a little weird here, in about twenty minutes.
“Nah, I was out this way anyway, pissing away time at my girlfriend’s until she got off work. She lives North Phoenix, so I’m not far. But yeah—I live in Chandler.”
“Cool.” I handed his license back and, as Kyle was replacing it in his wallet, decided to give him the spiel, butching up my voice and vocabulary as best I could (though my voice is pretty masculine—deep—anyway):
“Yeah, I’ve never really done anything with a guy before, but have always wanted to try it,” I lied. “One night Becky and I were talking about fantasies, discussing shit we wanted to maybe try one day, and she brought up maybe wanting to have a three-way with me and another guy sometime, instead of another girl. It sort of set off my wanting to explore with a guy—so I placed the ad.”
Kyle nodded, tucking his wallet in a back pocket, those brilliant eyes studying me.
“I wanna try everything, eventually,” I continued, warming to my sales pitch now. “Wanna know what it’s like to kiss a guy…suck a guy’s dick, maybe even eat his ass…who knows, maybe even get fucked by a dude, though I don’t know if I’m really ready for going there yet.” In truth, I didn’t—I don’t bottom for many guys, unless we’re in a relationship or he’s too hot not to do it.
“So,” I continued, “I got this hot little girlfriend who’s maybe open to a three-way with the right young guy…and was putting an ad on CL to see if I could find such a guy. Someone willing to experiment. Ya know?”
“Oh yeah, man, I get ya,” Kyle replied. I patted my hand on the couch next to me, and he obediently moved right over, sitting so close our legs were touching. “Like I told you, Mark, I need to be real discreet because of my girlfriend, but have been wanting to experiment myself, since letting a couple of guys suck me in high school.”
“Cool, man. Well, okay then—let’s see…” I put my hand on his chest, starting to unbutton his clean work shirt, at the same time leaning in to nuzzle his neck with my mouth. Kyle pressed into me, my own trim moustache and goatee adding to the pleasure, and a small moan escaped him as his hand moved up to caress my chest through the gray tee I wore. The more I licked and kissed his neck—careful not to leave marks—the more Kyle panted in my ears, aroused so much now, he was helping me to unbutton and remove his work shirt…revealing a smooth, defined, pale boy-man’s chest underneath and a huge three-leaf clover tattoo above his left pec. He was groaning by now—as was I—his body rolling over on top of mine as I tried to stretch out on the sofa…but it was when I tried moving my mouth to the other side of his neck, brushing past the thick, ticklish goatee on his chin, that Kyle dipped his head down and instead wrapped his wet lips around mine, sucking them in as his tongue slid, fat and moist and probing, into my mouth.
Kissing—especially with someone who knows how to do it well—is one of my biggest turn-ons…and as a shirtless Kyle settled on top of me, in my lap, the two of us making out like a pair of horny teenagers while my hands slid down inside the back of his loose pants to squeeze his full, round bare ass—it was like nothing else on earth existed. My brain shorted somewhere, I think, and I could do nothing but suck face with this hot motherfucking twenty-one-year-old, squeezing his fleshy young ass—Kyle’s increased moaning, every time I did it, only telling me how much he was loving the ass-play. Shit, it had never occurred to me I could fuck this straight boy—but man, right now, it was all I wanted to do.
We were moaning and groaning by this time, thrashing around like some mating footage from Animal Planet as I thrust my crotch into his lap, Kyle still straddling me. He reached down then, unbuttoning and unzipping his workpants to reveal no underwear—and one hell of a pretty pink-red cock, already standing hard and at full erection, pre-cum glistening from the head. Still frantically making out with me, Kyle grabbed my right hand and wrapped it around his prick, which was concrete-hard and about eight inches in length—thick but not too thick, and shaped like a torpedo ready to launch, only with a thick, almost pretty mushroom-head top.
I stroked him a bit, the two of us still making out, then couldn’t stand it any longer. Breaking the slobberfest at last, my mind still reeling, I rolled Kyle over onto the couch next to me again…then leaned over to take his boner into my mouth as he kicked off his navy-blue tennis shoes.
“Awww, fuck yeah!” Kyle groaned, clamping his hand to the back of my head to push me down farther as he started to fuck my mouth, those slim hips of his jackknifing into my face, cramming his long, thick cock all the way down my throat until I started to gag. He let up a couple minutes later, taking his hand out of my hair, and I sat up.
“There’s not enough room here,” I told him. “Come on.”
I literally led him down the hall by the hand, to my bedroom, Kyle using his other hand to hold his pants up so he could walk. We left his shoes and work shirt in the living room, and in my bedroom he asked to see the picture of me and Becky first thing—to me, another sign he truly was a straight guy experimenting.
“She’s hot,” he said, bending down to stare at the photo. “I’d like to fuck her, for real, if you decide I’m the right guy.”
“Well,” I replied, my horniness enabling me to shove aside the pang of guilt I was starting to feel. “Let’s see what happens.”
Kyle stepped out of his pants, pulling off his white socks as I removed my own shirt. I didn’t want to get nude yet, not wanting to make the guy even more nervous if he didn’t want to go any further with the oral than we already had (I was fine with tasting him)—and as I laid this hot, young, naked straight kid of twenty-one out onto my bed, crawling over to take my place next to him on his left…it was all I could do to keep from shooting my own load when he began kissing me again, his lips sucking on mine as our tongues mated with each other in my mouth.
Before this could cause me to come, my own seven inches crying out for freedom in my jeans, I allowed my mouth to leave Kyle’s—opting for a tour of his young, hard swimmer’s body instead. His nipples were dark, tiny, and when I took the left one into my mouth he gasped and buried his hand into my hair again, pressing my mouth to his tit. My tongue swirled hard around it, feeling it grow to a point as I pressed harder, and Kyle was gasping for air by now, grabbing my hand to again wrap it around his throbbing erection. My mouth continued its tour, moving south, and Kyle even went nuts when my pink tongue slid hard into his belly button.
It was when I finally made it to that pretty, perfect pink pole of his, though—replacing my hand with my mouth as I sucked his long, hard cock in to the balls, inhaling his trimmed pubic hair (which smelled vaguely of soap)—that Kyle again started hammering the back of my throat, fucking my face like he was determined to shoot then and there.
“Oh my God…” he moaned, “that feels so fucking goooooood…”
He must have been close to nutting, then, because he pushed me off him, hard, rolling us over as his strong young mechanic’s hands forced me to lie back on the bed. It was then, to my surprise, he started going for the fly of my jeans, fingers trembling as he rushed to get them open.
“I wanna see your dick,” he moaned, his body turning around until his legs, feet and ass were up by my head. I began kneading his big, sexy butt again, my mouth moving to suck the big toe of his left foot into my mouth.
“Oh, shiiit,” Kyle moaned. “Fuck, that feels so good, man…”
He managed to get my jeans opened, yanking them from my legs. I wasn’t wearing any underwear either, so when the jeans came off my own hard-on flapped to bounce off my belly, standing straight up like a flagpole (a flagpole with an oversized head). Kyle’s cock might have been longer, but mine was thicker, and I was glad he only wanted to see it.
“Wow, man,” he whispered, wrapping the long, thin fingers of his right hand around my piece. He began to stroke, slow at first but then a bit faster, as he saw more pre-jizz ooze
from my cockhead. My right index finger was rubbing along the outside of his tight little asshole, but Kyle didn’t seem to notice—he was so entranced with my dick—and then, without warning, he shuffled closer on the bed and inhaled my prick halfway down his throat, sucking hard.
“SHIT!” I yelled, my hand jerking away from his ass to strike the headboard behind me. I had not expected him to go this far at all, and it blew my mind all to hell, even as I tried pushing him away (the dude was a newbie, all right—he was using too much teeth). Instead, Kyle grabbed onto my muscular legs, holding me to him as his assault on my cock only got faster.
I had to give him a quick lesson on using less teeth…and the kid was actually an amazing cocksucker for a beginner; not much of a surprise, I guess, based on the way he kissed. In a few minutes he had my dick all the way down my throat, his youthful eagerness already bringing me close to nutting, and when I pulled him fully on top of me, sucking in his own raging hard-on so we could 69 each other—Kyle on top—my young diesel mechanic began to piston his dick all the way down my throat again, pile-driving my face harder and harder with each thrust. I couldn’t even imagine what his cock could do to my ass…but all of a sudden, I wanted to find out. Especially when my own attempts to tongue his hole, or inset a finger into it, was met with Kyle’s hand swooping back to push me away, as he maneuvered his dick back to my mouth instead.
This went on for several minutes, until I really was afraid I would come any moment, and I told Kyle to stop if he didn’t want me to nut. He did, rolling a little off me and to the side, stroking my prick (which now glistened with his spit)—and as I watched his face, Kyle’s handsome young face with the baby-blue eyes, staring at my cock as he stroked it, I heard my voice say, as if acting of its own free will:
“Do you want to fuck me?”
His right hand froze on my cock, Kyle turning those big blue eyes to me in surprise. “I never done that before. I mean, not to a guy.”
Again, it was like my brain had a big “Out to Lunch” sign on it, I was so fucking turned on—though, through sheer will, I kept my voice totally in control. “Do you want to fuck me?” I asked again.
He stared at me for several seconds. Licked his lips, then took a quick glance at my cock again—still erect in his hand—before replying with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Sure, man—we could try it.”
That was when the doorbell rang.
* * * *
It was 11:04, and Chuck was here. Hurriedly, I explained the situation to Kyle—another guy who’d answered my ad was due at eleven—and, after seeing the momentary look of panic on Kyle’s face, pushed a couple of guilt buttons about how the two guys wouldn’t have run into each other, had he been on time. I assured him I would get rid of the guy and be back in five minutes—but then pointed out, unless Kyle wasn’t okay with another guy here, that maybe I could test drive them both for a potential foursome instead of a threesome. I could tell Kyle was less sure of himself now—yet also turned on by the idea, though his one stipulation was to have no contact with the other guy himself…only me, because I was the one with the roadblock he had to pass: the guy with the girlfriend he wanted to fuck.
I assured him this would be no problem—that this guy sounded even straighter then Kyle did, with no previous guy-guy experience—but stressed again how I’d probably just get rid of the guy and be back in a few minutes, alone, anyway.
On shaky legs I left Kyle on my bed, naked and still hard, as I dressed and left my bedroom, closing the door to a crack behind me. The doorbell sounded again as I made my way down the dark hallway to the front door, kind of hoping, when I peeked through the peephole, to see some truly ugly dude who looked nothing like the photo Chuck had emailed me.
Fuck! I thought to myself, after a peek. He was, like, fifty times hotter than the photo he’d sent me. Even cuter than Kyle, with thick dark hair and an innocent, totally corruptible look in his eyes. He wore a plain black tee-shirt and black jeans and was twisting his car keys in his hands, already nervous.
I yanked the door open before he could bolt, determined somehow to make this potential disaster work.
“Chuck?” I said, upon seeing him.
“Yeah—you Mark?” he asked, pointing with his keys.
“Sure—come on in, buddy.” I held the door and Chuck entered my apartment. He was a little shorter than me—maybe five-foot-ten—and so fucking hot, his eyes a searing bluish-green I hadn’t picked up on in his camera-phone photo. He was all masculine, no doubt—but there was still very much the boy in him, especially in his nervousness. It was like being face to face with an adorable, dark-haired twink for his first time—a twink you knew would take direction well, if you put it the right way. His body was very lean, yet also very well-developed; he evidently ran, or worked out, because—while still on the thin side—his arms and chest still strained at the confines of his black t-shirt, his body more muscular and v-shaped than Kyle’s.
“I—I’m kinda nervous,” the nineteen-year-old beauty said to me, as we shook hands.
“Me too, man.” And indeed—with him—I was. “We’ll be cool; do what feels good. I got a lot of exploring I wanna do with a guy—kissing, tonguing his ass, maybe even getting fucked—but let’s agree to do what feels good, and at the very least I’ll give you some head you’ll hopefully get off on. No pressure.”
This seemed to help, and he smiled a little. My heart cracked—God, he was beautiful; Duane would shit his pants six ways to Sunday if he knew I had these two boys—especially Chuck—in my house all to myself.
“You—you said you had a photo of you and your girl?” Chuck asked, pocketing his car keys.
“Oh, yeah—it’s in my room, on the wall above my dresser. First, do you got your driver’s license, man? You look seriously young.”
Chuck smiled again, this time wider and more at east, as he pulled a brown leather wallet from his back pocket, opening it. “Yeah, I know—nobody believes I’m nineteen.”
He produced his Arizona state driver’s license from the wallet’s viewer window, much as Kyle had, and handed it to me. I scanned for the date of birth, even more aroused when I saw he was only nineteen years old by less than two months…
Then my face froze, eyes going wide. I would have gasped, but somehow managed to maintain my head, for Chuck’s sake; after all, the guy was edgy enough as it is.
I glanced up from the license to him, forcing a smile. “Nice pic, man,” I managed to say.
“Thanks. As you can see, I only recently turned nineteen.”
“Yep. Oh, yeah—newly-nineteen, right.” His birthdate wasn’t what I was looking at now, though. My eyes were, instead, glued to the other end of the small driver’s license, where Chuck’s personal information was listed.
He had the same unusual last name, and Chandler street address, as Kyle.
I smiled weakly as I handed the license back to Chuck.
Jesus Christ. These weren’t just a couple of dim-witted straight boys.
They were brothers.
* * * *
Potential disaster number two made itself apparent as Chuck was putting his driver’s license away; over his broad shoulder, I could make out Kyle’s work shirt, tossed casually aside on the couch while we were making out, its nametag face up and plain to see—if only Chuck turned around.
Which he was about to, heading further into my house, when I reached out and grabbed his arm to get his attention again. “Man, uh, you emailed a very cool pic of yourself, Chuck—it was one of the reasons I wrote you back. Does your body still look as good?”
“Better, I think; the photo I sent you was taken a few months ago.”
I moved my hand to the crotch of his jeans, and began to rub. Not only did he not stop me—his dick was already getting hard.
“Can I see?” I asked him, voice husky. “Your body, I mean?”
He nodded, eyes closed, trying to lick some moisture back to his lips as I stood there caressing his boner—
which kept growing and growing. “Sure,” he finally said, eyes still shut, then crossed his arms and pulled the black t-shirt he wore up and over his head, tossing it to the floor.
He was right—his chest and abs were even better, now, than in the photo he’d sent. He had tiny dark pecs, like his brother, but on a much more developed, well-toned chest. I leaned in to suck on the right one, still kneading his erection, and Chuck moaned, sort of stumbling to lean against me. His nipples seemed a major sensory point, too. As he leaned over, his left hand grabbed my shoulder, squeezing hard as he propped his body against mine…my mouth still working his delicious, dark-brown nipple.
“Oh man, that feels great…” Chuck whispered, breath in my ear, and I couldn’t wait anymore; I had to see. Leaving his pec but still massaging his hard-on, which felt huge through those tight jeans, I raised my head and put my left hand on the back of Chuck’s neck, bringing his lips to mine before he could stop me. He froze when our lips touched, started to pull away, but then I sucked his lips into mine, tonguing them (he tasted of cinnamon gum, a huge turn-on)—and in seconds his mouth opened to mine and my pressure increased on his dick and we were kissing, making out, Chuck’s mouth growing wilder and hotter and heavier on mine as he got more aroused by the pressure of my hand massaging his cock.
“Let’s get these off,” I whispered, opening his belt-less jeans. They slid easily to the floor, once I’d pulled them off Chuck’s thick runner’s thighs, and his erection—eerily similar to Kyle’s, though bigger and much thicker—flew right out of the open flap of his silk boxers, stopping just north of a 90-degree angle…about nine inches in length.
“Wow,” I said on seeing it, and Chuck blushed, starting to turn away…but I’d already dropped to my knees to yank down his boxers and pulled that huge boner of his in between my lips. I couldn’t take him all in, at first—he was that thick—but as soon as I’d first sucked him in, Chuck wigged out and started mumbling to himself, mostly Oh fuuuuuck…and his fingers tangled in my hair as he tried to cram all he had down my already-sore throat.
