His Secret Sins

by Henri Couesnon

  They got off the bed, which Marc stripped of its sheets and pillowcases. Standing there, Renaud gazed at his beautiful nude lover, as Marc bundled up the bed linen.

  His lover … Renaud was excited by the mere thought that he now had a lover. He told himself that, after all, playing around with Marc was a lot safer than trying to pick up some anonymous stranger for sex. Smiling, Renaud headed for the bathroom, to take his much-needed shower.

  Chapter Seven: Share and Share Alike

  While they waited for their wives to return from their shopping expedition, Marc told Renaud about Jean-Paul. Marc wasn’t in the habit of bragging about his conquests to his other sex partners, but he and Renaud had become so close that he made an exception.

  “He sounds hot,” Renaud said. “Is there any chance of me meeting him?”

  “Why, so you can lure him away from me? Listen, buddy. I saw him first. But,” Marc added, relenting, “he’s such a sexy little number that I suppose there’s plenty of him to go around.”

  “Would you be willing to share him?” Renaud asked, with undisguised eagerness.

  “Down, boy,” Marc mocked him. “You’re beginning to salivate!”

  But it didn’t take long for the resourceful and devious Marc to come up with a stratagem.

  “Come downtown and have lunch with me some day,” he suggested. “I’ll make a reservation for us at this restaurant I often go to. But we can meet at my office. That’ll give you your chance to see Jean-Paul. Just don’t be too damn obvious when you check him out.”

  This plan worked perfectly. Renaud came to Marc’s workplace a few days later. Marc had already set aside a list of a few mundane tasks which he wanted Jean-Paul to do for him. This gave him a perfect excuse to call the office boy into his office while Renaud was there with him. Marc introduced Renaud to Jean-Paul, as a matter of course.

  “Well, we’re going to go have some lunch,” Marc said, after the three men had made some polite small talk. But then he had a further inspiration. “Why don’t you join us, Jean-Paul? My treat, of course.”

  After making a token protest, Jean-Paul accepted the invitation—while Renaud flashed Marc a why didn’t I think of that? sort of look.

  Over lunch, it didn’t take long for the trio to drop any pretenses.

  “So,” Jean-Paul remarked, casually. “You guys are neighbors, huh?”

  “That’s right,” Marc said.

  “Buddies,” Jean-Paul added.

  “The best of friends,” Renaud assured him.

  “And lovers?” Jean-Paul asked.

  Renaud was flustered. “We’re both married,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, you and half of the other men in Marseille who hang out in the gay bars and try to pick up guys on the street,” Jean-Paul retorted. “When did being married ever stop anybody from having himself a good time? Marc, here, is the perfect example. And if you two are as close as you say you are—well, then you must’ve learned a few things from him.”

  Marc smiled. “You see, Renaud—despite his youth, Jean-Paul is already quite the sophisticate. He knows the score.”

  Jean-Paul, too, grinned—in a broad way which amounted to a leer. “Yeah, I do. And speaking of scoring … so, you two are an item. But you’re obviously not exclusive.”

  “Obviously,” Marc admitted.

  “Do you guys like threeways?”

  “I love them,” Marc said, without hesitation and without shame.

  “Do you, Marc? I’ve never been in one, myself,” Renaud said.

  Jean-Paul was shocked. “Never? Man—that’s like saying you’ve never jerked off! You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

  “Maybe we’d better take it upon ourselves to show Renaud what he’s been missing,” Marc suggested.

  Jean-Paul soon proved to be every bit as skilled at sexual scheming as Marc.

  “I know you guys can’t fool around at home unless your wives are away,” he said. “But you can always come to my place, if you don’t mind slumming. Just pretend the two of you are going somewhere together on a boys’ night out. Then you can drive straight to my place, and we can ball our brains out. Home you go afterward, and the other halves will never know the difference.”

  Two days later, in the early evening, Marc and Renaud went to Jean-Paul’s apartment. During the drive, they rehearsed their alibi. Their story would be that they’d gone to the movies, and seen the kind of action film, heavy on car chases and explosions, which their wives disliked. They’d had a drink at a sports bar, afterward.

  “If Marie accuses you—even in jest—of having gone to a strip club with me, deny it, of course,” Marc advised. “But try to look a little sheepish while you do it. The more she starts thinking about the possibility that you and I had ourselves a little harmless heterosexual fun, the less likely she’ll be to suspect the truth. It’s a trick I learned long ago, and it always works.”

  “You’re really an expert at this sneaking about and cheating business, aren’t you, Marc?”

  “You bet I am. And if you’re smart, and have any instinct for self-preservation—you’ll become one, too.”

  They arrived at Jean-Paul’s apartment building.

  “Ugh,” Renaud commented, succinctly but eloquently, as they entered the lobby. “This neighborhood—this place—!”

  “I know you’re experiencing culture shock. But be nice,” his companion in sin advised, as he pressed Jean-Paul’s buzzer. “Jean-Paul can’t help it that he’s just starting out on his own, and has an entry-level job.”

  Jean-Paul buzzed them in, and they rode the elevator upstairs.

  Marc had brought a couple of bottles of good wine, as a gift for their host, along with a “party favor,” in the form of some coke, which the three men snorted while they sampled the wine. Soon, they were shedding their clothes.

  “You two start without me,” Marc suggested. “I’m going to finish this glass of wine. And I don’t often get an opportunity to watch two other guys making love. This is going to be a real treat for me.”

  Marc remained seated in one of the armchairs, while Jean-Paul got into a kneeling position in front of Renaud, who occupied the other chair, nearby. Resting his hands on Renaud’s knees, Jean-Paul gazed at the married man’s crotch.

  “Do you like to have your cock sucked?” Jean-Paul asked.

  Renaud was still a little nervous, in that way some men have when they’re about to have sex with another guy for the first time. “Sure. Who doesn’t?”

  “I bet I can do a better job of it than your wife,” Jean-Paul promised, lewdly. “Much better.”

  Renaud squirmed in his seat. “Let’s leave my wife out of this, okay?”

  “Don’t tease him, Jean-Paul,” Marc said. “Blow him.”

  “Yeah … I’ll blow you, all right, man. I’ll blow you real good. Relax. Let me suck your cock,” Jean-Paul whispered.

  Renaud leaned back in the chair and spread his legs. “Be my guest.”

  Marc could see that Renaud already had a rip-roaring hard-on, which stuck up from his groin, rigid and twitching with pent-up need. Jean-Paul took the erection in his hand and, bending over, he guided the glans of Renaud’s penis to his lips. He extended his tongue and licked the cockhead, slowly and provocatively, wetting it with his saliva.

  “Aw, fuck!” Renaud exclaimed.

  “I told you he was good,” Marc said.

  Proceeding to demonstrate exactly how good he was, Jean-Paul took a deep breath, before he engulfed Renaud’s stiff penis in his mouth. Guiding the bloated cockhead expertly down into his throat on each downstroke, he began to suck, quickly driving Renaud wild.

  For a few minutes, Marc enjoyed his wine, and the show. When his glass was drained, he stood up and put his hand on Jean-Paul’s shoulder.

  “There’s a perfectly good bed over there, going to waste,” he reminded the other two men. “Why don’t we get comfortable?”

  Removing his mouth from Renaud’s dick with a loud, lewd sl
urping noise, Jean-Paul grinned at both men.

  “Yeah, let’s. In your honor, guys, I’ve put clean sheets on the bed, which is something I don’t do for just any trick,” their host announced. “But feel free to mess them up.”

  Marc was surprised by his own lack of selfishness, which he knew wasn’t at all characteristic of him. He’d had Jean-Paul before, and he flattered himself that he could have the boy again, any time he wished. And so he was willing to let Renaud have his fair share of the fun.

  “Suck him, Renaud,” Marc urged. “Go on, Jean Paul. Fuck my buddy’s face.”

  Renaud let himself be drawn toward Jean-Paul’s bed. Jean-Paul sat on the edge of the mattress and spread his legs, urging Renaud to kneel down on the floor between them. Renaud dipped his head to look closely at the younger man’s cock. Jean-Paul’s prickhead was so close to his mouth that Renaud could have touched it with his lips, but he was suddenly too petrified to move. The penis looked so big, so awesome in its meaty, potent length and thickness, that Renaud felt intimidated by it. His mouth was burning for the taste of that cock, but he was afraid. He longed to put his mouth on it, to suck it, to tap the hot fluid trapped inside it. But his fear of choking on it was momentarily greater than his desire.

  “I don’t know, kid,” he said, in a hoarse, nervous whisper. “I don’t know if I can go through with this. You’re hung like a horse!”

  “Sure you can. Go ahead,” Jean-Paul encouraged him, pulling again on the back of Renaud’s neck. He seemed to understand Renaud’s timidity, and he was prodding him just enough to give him courage, without frightening him off. He could easily have rammed his prick into Renaud’s mouth and forced him to suck it, but he knew it would be better if the man took it willingly. “Don’t be scared. You can handle it. You’ve sucked Marc’s, haven’t you?”

  “Lots of times,” Marc assured Jean-Paul.

  “But I still have trouble taking Marc all the way,” Renaud confessed. “I don’t really know how to deep-throat.”

  Jean-Paul laughed, softly, and he stroked the hair on the back of Renaud’s neck. “Oh, there’s nothing to it. I’ll be glad to teach you. You’ll be surprised by how easy it is, once you get started.” His hand urged the married man’s head forward again, and this time Renaud moved with it.

  He reached for Jean-Paul’s hips and gripped them tightly with both hands. His lips touched the head of the handsome young guy’s big cock, and they parted. His tongue licked out timidly and he tasted the spongy hardness of the glans.

  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned.

  “Suck it,” Jean-Paul coaxed.

  “Yeah, suck it,” Marc echoed him. “Get your mouth down on that big, fat cock!”

  Renaud’s mouth widened, and with a faint intake of breath, he gorged his mouth with hard cock. He gagged at first and tried to pull back, but Jean-Paul’s hand stroked his neck with a surprising tenderness, reassuring him, and silently urging him to keep the cock in his mouth. This time, Renaud kept just the head of the dick inside his mouth, and he licked at it until he was used to the feel and the taste of it. His fingers tightened their hold on Jean-Paul’s hips. He moved his head in closer to Jean-Paul’s groin, taking more of the cock inside his mouth. It was so thick and so stiff that Renaud’s lips were stretched all the way open around the shaft, and inside his mouth he could barely move his tongue on the surface of the bloated male organ. But he began to rock his head back and forth, working the swollen prick between his lips, forcing himself to take more of it each time he pushed his face forward.

  Jean-Paul’s cock was so big that it was impossible for a comparatively inexperienced cocksucker like Renaud to fit all of it comfortably into his mouth. Renaud felt the cockhead pushing down into his throat, and he gagged again. He backed off an inch or two, and then he began to suck on as much of the length of the erection as he could handle. His tongue fluttered up and down on the shaft, while his lips continued to ease it in and out of his mouth. His hands moved around Jean-Paul’s body until they clenched the hard cheeks of his ass. He felt the buttocks moving as Jean-Paul slowly humped his body back and forth on the bed, feeding his prick into Renaud’s mouth in counterpoint to the bobbing of Renaud’s head. Renaud’s senses reeled dizzily. He sucked faster and with greater confidence and abandon, and Jean-Paul continued pumping his cock at his face.

  Jean-Paul’s hand touched Renaud’s right arm and pulled it away from his body, guiding it down to Renaud’s lap.

  “I’m going to come soon,” Jean-Paul reported, his voice tight with excitement. “Jerk off, man. Jerk yours while you suck mine. I want you to come with me, I want to see your jism fly out of your big cock while I shoot my load down your hot cocksucking throat.” Jean-Paul had been staring down at his own lap, watching Renaud work on him. But now he raised his head and met Marc’s gaze. “Don’t worry, boss,” Jean-Paul told Marc. “I haven’t forgotten you. I don’t want you to feel left out. Once he’s done swallowing my load, you can fuck me. And then you can fuck him, too, if you want to. And, knowing you, I’m sure you’ll be up to it. You can ream out both of our horny butts. Yeah … I want your cock in my ass, Marc … and I want to see you screw your buddy. Then you can tell us which one of us is the better fuck!”

  Hearing these depraved suggestions pushed Renaud over the edge. He quickly grasped his own swollen member. He began to masturbate frenziedly while he sucked even harder, driven wild with the thought that he would soon be taking Jean-Paul’s semen into his mouth—tasting it, swallowing it. He wondered what it would taste like, and whether he would be able to swallow it without choking on it. But the question was soon put to the test. Abruptly, Jean-Paul began to gasp, loudly, and both of his hands dug into Renaud’s shoulders. He rammed his pelvis forward to fuck the kneeling cocksucker’s face even more savagely.

  His dick burst in the man’s mouth with the force of a hose spurting high-pressure water out of its nozzle. Wad after wad of his thick cream squirted into Renaud’s throat. The force of it and the tart taste of it was all it took to trigger Renaud’s own ejaculation. He felt his semen squirting high into the air, shooting onto Jean-Paul’s legs and the side of the mattress, and dripping down onto the floor and dribbling over his tightly clenched, still pumping fist. And still he sucked on the boy’s meat, as Jean-Paul gave him more and more sperm to swallow, until it seemed that the oversexed young stud would never stop coming.

  When at last Jean-Paul did stop unloading, Renaud was reluctant to take his mouth off the boy’s cock. As it began to go limp, he took more of it between his lips, until they were pressed flush into the thick wreath of hair at its base. Only when Jean-Paul’s hands on his shoulders pushed him gently assay did Renaud let go of the dick which he’s enjoyed sucking so much.

  He looked up, dazed, into Jean-Paul’s handsome, grinning face, and he felt tears of happiness brimming in his eyes.

  “Thank you,” Renaud whispered. “That was incredible!”

  “My pleasure,” Jean-Paul responded.

  “My pleasure, now,” Marc reminded them, as he reached for the box of condoms and the lubricant which Jean-Paul had ready, beside the bed. “That was quite a show. I enjoyed every moment of it. But now, it’s time for the ‘audience participation’ part of the performance.”

  Jean-Paul grinned at him. “Are you going to fuck us both?”

  “Both of you,” Marc promised. “One right after the other.”

  “Switch back and forth, Marc,” Jean-Paul suggested, as he got up onto the mattress, where he positioned himself on his hands and knees, presenting his ass to Marc. “Get up here beside me, Renaud. Let Marc move back and forth between our two holes.”

  Renaud groaned—but he did as Jean-Paul asked. “You guys are insane,” he protested, not very convincingly. “You’re a couple of sex fiends.”

  “Yeah, we are,” Jean-Paul said. “And you’re going to make a third!”

  Chapter Eight: Threeway—the Only Way!

  Marc couldn’t deny it. He was beginning to acquir
e a taste for threeway sex. After all, he rationalized, if one man in his bed was good, then two men were better!

  He and Renaud continued to go to Jean-Paul’s place for trysts.

  “Wouldn’t you rather be going out with your friends?” Renaud asked Jean-Paul, one night. The three men were recuperating after a particularly strenuous sex session. “I mean, your friends who are your own age.”

  “Oh, I can see them any time I want,” Jean-Paul replied, breezily. “I’d rather be with you guys, at least when it comes to sex. I like older men. I always wanted a daddy. And now I’ve got two of them.”

  Renaud was speechless, for the time being. But, during the drive back into the city, he vented.

  “Older men!” he exclaimed. “We are not that much older than that kid! And neither of us is anywhere near old enough to be his daddy!”

  Marc snickered. “Relax. I don’t think he was using the term literally. Try to remember when you were his age. Thirty probably seemed ancient to you, back then. We’ve got ourselves a hot young number who’d rather fuck us than hang out with his buddies. What have we got to complain about?”

  “Nothing, I guess,” Renaud conceded.

  “Count your blessings,” Marc advised.

  He counted his own. But he liked variety. He was already thinking about finding other partners, if only to mix things up a bit.

  He remembered his fantasy about having sex with both Albert and Dimitri at once. Now, after Marc’s recent experiences, that didn’t seem like an insurmountable goal. But when and how to arrange it?

  He could hardly believe his luck, when events seemed to play right into his hand.

  “Maman wants me to spend a few days with her, in Toulouse,” Ghislaine told her husband, during dinner one evening.

  “Does she? Then of course you should go,” Marc replied, doing his best to look and sound casual, even indifferent.