All Disclaimers
BLACK AND WHITE
Chapter 78--The Manhole & Flight to London
Before we could leave the gym, several men asked if we had plans for later in the evening. Clearly, they wanted to have us to themselves. We repeated that we planned on dinner, then, a night out at The Manhole on Halsted (unlike the misspelled street name of the last chapter, with apologies to Chicago readers) before we flew off to London tomorrow morning. We were reminded that the place didn't open until nine, but they sure looked forward to seeing us there. Overhearing one of those exchanges was a good- looking, black man, standing near our lockers as we dressed. His beautiful face radiated confidence and sexuality. Standing at 6'5" and weighing a solid 250 pounds, he made me hope he was gay and available. He was the first, but not the latter. His boyfriend hovered nearby. Although smaller, he was even more buff than the big beauty next to us.
"We're headed there tonight, too. You from out of town?" the larger man asked.
"Yeah," Dave smiled.
"Car?" We shook our heads to the negative. "Good, we can take you, then. Parking's always a bitch there. What time did you think you'd want to go?" he asked.
"Well, we don't know Chicago and the bar scene, so we aren't sure," Dave volunteered, looking at me for confirmation. I shrugged. "However, we do have a flight to London tomorrow morning that leaves a little after nine."
"You can sleep on the plane," his boyfriend said. "You're on vacation! Party!" he laughed. "I'm Trent. My boyfriend's Ken," he added shaking hands. We introduced ourselves. "How about if we pick you up around ten? Are you staying nearby?"
I told them where we were (including the room and phone number) and confirmed the suggested time. Dave nodded when I concurred on their recommended time. "Gives us time for dinner and a power nap before we go out for the evening," I agreed.
We'd hung around long enough to get a good look at their "packages" and booties. This could be more than a drive to the bar, I thought hopefully, not convinced of their monogamy. Before we left, more men chatted us up, finding out that we were headed to The Manhole at ten. Although it was a weeknight, they thought they might meet us there for a drink or two before they had to get home. Even the manager promised to drop in later for some conversation "and maybe more," he winked.
After a light dinner, we returned to our hotel room, watched a little television, but napped more than anything. By 9:30, Dave rousted us to get into our "bar drag" for the evening. We wore the most daring cutoffs we owned. The night had stayed warm, so we decided not to wear shirts. However, there was the problem of leaving the room, riding down in the elevator, and strolling across the lobby in that get-up. Each of us had long, light shirts that we'd wear to cover most of the offending exposed flesh.
Trent called at 9:50. "We're ready when you are," I said.
"We're less than five minutes away from your hotel. By the time you lock your room and ride the elevator down, we'll be at curbside," Trent directed.
As we pushed through the revolving doors to the outside, an Acura RL pulled up. "Trent works at a dealership," Ken revealed as we jumped into the spacious back seat. "He gets these demos all the time. So, why not use it while we have the chance? It's wheels, but not quite a barge."
"And drives pretty well, too," Trent agreed. "Don't you look PHYNE!" he leered, turning his head to check us out in the back seat. "I can't wait to get those shirts off you."
"Unless you wear leather, you have to take your shirt off at The Manhole," Ken explained. "I don't think you'll mind, and I know they won't!"
Parking was a predicted bitch. We circled surrounding blocks for some time before a space opened up. It looked like the boys from the gym were true to their word or this was a particularly busy night in Boys Town at The Manhole. The place was packed. Knowing that the doorman would insist that we lose our shirts, we left them in Ken's car. Strolling up to the entrance, our muscular foursome received a grin, a nod, and friendly pats on our butts. "Have a good time, gentlemen," he urged. "I'm relieved every hour, on the hour, for ten minutes. I'll be looking for ya!"
We smiled, but made no promises. Inside, we circulated as best we could through the crowd, the busy bar our ultimate destination. But, with several of our "admirers" from the gym stopping us for conversation, we made slow progress. By the time we reached the bar, we'd be kissed, hugged, fondled, groped, and stroked. Each of us had been worked up sufficiently that we had raging hard-ons. As we ordered our drinks, two of our new friends were sucking our dicks, with two others licking, rimming, and otherwise tasting our butts. The cutoffs were too tantalizing for this Chicago crowd.
I wondered if the Europeans would be more reserved, like the men at home.
Our drinks arrived, but other "friends" paid for them. We turned to rejoin Ken and Trent. Groans of disappointment reached our ears as we pulled away from the men attempting to service us. "Friendly place," Dave smiled.
"They generally frown on that kinda conduct here," Ken sighed.
"But, in the hallway to the bathroom, it's more than friendly," Trent smirked.
As the "new meat in town," we were besieged by at least a dozen men trying to get to know one or both of us better. As a "set," we had even more men coming over to be introduced and seduced. Ken and Trent tried their best to introduce us to as many men as they knew (which was considerable), but they didn't know everyone. Those unfortunate souls waited for a break in conversation, or for one of our new circle of friends to leave or turn aside so they could insinuate themselves into the conversation. The names swirled about me, falling in and out of my head as fast as they were spoken.
The doorman thrust himself into the group (clearly, everyone knew him) at 11:00 p.m. as promised. His engaging smile, funny repartee, and bulging muscles had our somewhat divided attention. But, ten minutes later, he'd gotten our names, the basic facts about us, and that we were leaving tomorrow for London. As he went back to the door, he kissed and groped each of us meaningfully. He whispered in my ear, "I hope you fuck as good as you look." I smiled. "This big thing needs to be serviced," he added, licking precum from his fingers. Promising to return in another fifty minutes, he gave Dave the same treatment.
"You can never judge a book by its cover," Dave mused, smiling. "I'd have bet money he's a top," he shouted over the music into my ear. I confirmed the same general conversation the doorman had had with me.
We inquired about his "marital status" from Ken, finding out that he was "married," but they played around when one of them was out of town. Trent also divulged that the entire city of Chicago had been trying to get into his pants (with limited success) for several months. "He's let us know that he might be interested in us," he added, "but we don't mess around. I don't know what his criteria are for who gets to sample his wares."
"Evidently, we passed, and his partner is out of town tonight," Dave grinned.
Ken smiled back and nodded. "I think he's into couples, muscled couples to be sure. I've also heard that he's a bottom, but I find that hard to believe."
"Have you ever met his boyfriend?" I asked.
"A few times," Trent offered. "Kinda quiet, but nice enough. I know they moved here together, and they don't do three or four ways."
"What's the boyfriend like, physically, I mean," Dave pressed.
"Well, he's black like Jerome (the doorman), built about like him, but a little taller, I think. I'm told he's got a big dick and a hot ass, but no one seems to know or isn't telling if he's a top or bottom."
"Maybe, they're both versatile?" Dave volunteered.
"Possibly," Ken agreed. "But, I still have a tough time envisioning either of them taking it up the ass. They're both so fuckin' butch. Just like you guys. I haven't a clue whether either of you gets fucked."
"The definition of butch that I know is that you're able to hold up his own legs as you're being fucked," I deadpanned. They laughed at that.
"And we both know how to hold up our own legs," Dave added to more laughter.
Having been plied with more drinks, we needed to find the men's room in a hurry or we'd both be making puddles where we stood. However, with our dicks in a constant state of erection, that would have been difficult, but not impossible. Someone was stroking or fondling our erect nipples, dicks, and round butts most of the evening. The more audacious managed tastes of each. But, we made our excuses and headed for the bathroom. A short line of friendly men greeted us as we took our places outside the bathroom doors. They were marked as unisex, but as this was an all male bar, both were being used.
As the doors opened, we could see that there were three urinals and two stalls per room. We could also see that the rooms were being used for more than what their basic purpose would suggest. Two men were receiving blowjobs in one of the rooms. The other had one man on his knees sucking on a very large, white dick, and the loud words emanating from one of the stalls gave evidence of a heavy fuck session reaching conclusion in there.
The short line moved briskly. In less than a minute, we stood in front of urinals in the "fucking" room. Action around us was still going nonstop. But, we had to piss so bad that we forced our dicks to wilt to "half-staff." We smiled to each other, as a flood released from our nearly bursting bladders.
The fucking in the stall behind us reached a crescendo of grunts, groans, shouts of pleasure, and bodies slamming together. Then, silence. The rustle of clothes being tugged back on preceded the door opening. Monte and Rashid exited. Rashid's leather shorts still bulged from his trouser snake. Monte had the look of a well-fucked, sweaty sex pig that'd just been serviced. His tight, black jock was soaked with sweat; the big head of his dick still dripping cum into the fabric. A leather harness clung tightly to his big chest. He noticed us and grinned. Anyone within 20 feet knew what the dark musclemen had been doing.
The only one who cared was a leather daddy who needed to drain his full bladder. He hauled out his sizeable dick (as he pushed us aside), and skidded into the cum- drenched stall. His heavy flow hit the toilet bowl and he sighed with relief.
"You seem to be getting reacquainted," I said to Rashid and Monte. They smiled and nodded. "Can't keep your hands off each other?"
"He's too sexy to be nearby without sampling," Rashid revealed. "We fit together so well," he added patting Monte's round ass.
Monte tugged at Rashid's bulging leather shorts and grinned. "Something this nice needs constant attention and release. But, this," he smirked patting Rashid's bubble ass, "needs relentless plowing."
"Anytime you need it, it's yours," Rashid assured him.
"Weren't you getting a lot of guys bangin' on the door?" Dave asked as we headed back to the bar.
"We're pretty fast when we need to be," Rashid said. "But, I was determined to plow Monte's tight ass and get plowed by his thick hose, too."
"You had time to fuck and get fucked?" I blurted out.
"Sure," Monte grinned. "By the time he'd fucked me and came, I was hot to fuck him. I doubt if I was in his sweet butt more than a minute before I shot off."
"The only thing I regret is not having time to prepare him more," Rashid laughed. "He's got the MOST delicious ass!"
We rejoined Ken and Trent and our expanding circle of new friends. Jerome found us again at midnight. He pulled us close to him (one on each side) and slipped his hands down the back of your shorts. He kissed us passionately. I sucked his right nipple while Dave worked his left. Our hands met in the back of his pants. The other hands massaged his expanding throbber, a nice one. Jerome removed his hands from the back of our shorts and into the front. He smiled. "Your both gonna fuck me to death!" he begged. "It's been a long time since I've enjoyed a big, white dick," he crooned in my ear. He told Dave that Dave's 11" monster dick would feel right at home in Jerome's ass. "My boyfriend's hung like you, Sugar!" he moaned, squeezing Dave's dripping, obsidian post.
He pulled away reluctantly. "I gotta piss like a racehorse," he explained. "See ya in a couple of minutes."
"You can't escape that easily," I cautioned, grinning. "We'll go with you, make sure you don't get molested." Dave nodded eagerly at my blatant attempt to check out Jerome more directly in the bathrooms. He quickly saw through my thin deception and laughed.
We followed him into the handicapped stall and let him piss while we pulled his pants lower and played with his hard chest and erect nipples. "I'll never be able to piss if you keep getting my dick hard like this." But, his flow didn't slow until he'd finished. He shook his dick and flushed. As he bent over to hit the lever, I buried my face in his tight, bubble butt. He didn't flinch. He'd been expecting (hoping?) for such a move. Dave knelt before him and sucked the rapidly growing, black cock into his mouth. "So nice of you both to help me out," he sighed pleasurably. "I hope this is only a prelude for more intensive fun later." We only moaned our reply. "I'll take that as a yes. But, I need to get back to the door," Jerome moaned pushing us away from our feasts. "There's a lot more for later."
Dave grabbed Jerome's dick and went down on him for one last, deep suck. I stood up behind Jerome and pressed my hard, dripping cock against his deep butt trench, leaving a precum trail with my thick, leaking dickhead from his tailbone to his big nuts. He groaned and pushed back. I didn't know if he was trying to escape Dave's talented sucking or attempting to wrap his wet ass lips around my probing phallus.
I felt the head of my dick enter him and jerk. He backed up on it more, swallowing several inches of thick shaft. "Oh, FUCK! That's good!" he whispered. "I'm so fuckin' close." I punched deeper and pulled out slowly. The big dickhead hit his prostate hard. He shuddered. "Gawd! I'm gonna cum!" I heard Dave suck harder, eager to take Jerome's load. I knew the doorman would want maximum stimulation as he sprayed his load down Dave's throat, so I short-dicked his butt, hitting his joy button relentlessly. With a roar, he blasted, nearly biting off my dick with his muscled ass. Each new wave brought more grunts of pleasure from him and additional tightening spasms around my thrusting dick. Dave continued to suck hard, extracting every drop of semen that Jerome launched.
But, I had to pull out or his milking, constricting channel would be swallowing my load as well. "Taste good?" I asked Dave. He opened his mouth, displaying white cream on his tongue. I leaned over and kissed him, sharing Jerome's spermy load.
"Your turn, Dave," Jerome smiled, turning around and bending over. "Ah! Big, fuckin', white dick for suckin'. I know it's gotta taste good," he beamed, licking the leaking, mushroom head. Dave spit on Jerome's open hole to add more lubricating cum and spit, and, with his fingers, pried him more open. "Don't worry about me," Jerome said backing resolutely on to Dave's spreading fingers. "I'm used to big ones like yours, and want it raw with a minimum of lube."
I watched as Dave pushed his fat prick between Jerome's hot ass cheeks. The head and several inches of the thick shaft disappeared before he stopped, allowing the doorman to get used to the big invader. "Nice, isn't it?" I smiled. Dave nodded mutely, enjoying the same milking tunnel I had.
"That's one, nice, fuckin' dick, Man!" Jerome beamed, talking around my fat dickhead. "Thick fucker, too!" Dave plowed deeper, inching closer to full penetration with each thrust. The harder he pushed into Jerome, the more inches of my dick Jerome sucked. He didn't seem to mind sucking a dick that had just been deep in his ass. In fact, he seemed to be really getting off on it. "Nice ass, isn't it," Jerome smirked. "Wouldn't you love to dump a big load between those hot buns? Don't you wanna cum deep in my ass? Big fuckin' load, spraying my guts for me? Yeah, Big Man! FUCK me!"
Dave had already grabbed Jerome's hips and was pulling him into each deep thrust. "You want my fuckin' load, Man? You hungry for my baby sauce, huh? Wanna get this big fuckin' stud to pump you full of cream and BREED your ass?" Dave snarled as his speed increased and his hammering, slamming thrusts slapped Jerome's hungry ass with Dave's hard abs. "Gonna fuckin' CUM in your ass, MAN!" Dave warned, releasing the man bent over in front of him. If Jerome didn't want to be barebacked, this was his chance to change. He grabbed Dave's hard, pistoning ass and held on.
"Hammer my butt! Fuck me!" the doorman bellowed. He returned to my dick and sucked even more expertly. But, his concentration on me was broken by Dave's roar of climax, and deeply pounding stabs with a blunt, squirting instrument up his hungry, eager butt. "Yeah, cum in my ass! All of it! FUCK ME!" Jerome begged. He pulled his big, muscled, ass cheeks farther apart to get Dave in as far as he could. "HOT fuck!" he crooned.
Dave collapsed on to Jerome's back, panting, but still bucking into the doorman's ass. From prior experience, I knew that Dave's sperm launcher was still squirting and oozing dick gravy. Jerome's boyfriend would know Jerome had been spread and fucked heavily, if he got back within the next three days. A stretched butthole doesn't recover from Dave's monster quickly (unless you're used to it like I am, ahem). But, I digress.
Jerome pulled off the meat missile in his ass and turned around, bending over, again. "Now, you pump me full, Mike. Lots of Dave's slippery sperm to lube your dick." He pulled Dave's slowly shrinking dick to his face and sucked the cum-slimed phallus into his mouth. "Yeah," he moaned, sampling the semen launcher that only moments before had been spewing cum up his ass. Dave was still dripping and Jerome was lapping it up. "Get to it, Mike!" the doorman commanded. His inviting, rounded ass wiggled back against me. My hard dick skidded up his ass trench. I pulled back and took better aim. In one easy push, I was balls-deep. Following Dave's big load, I slid forward into the stretched channel. Jerome clamped down hard on me, like he had when he'd cum in Dave's mouth. But, his hungry butt put effort into milking me, instead of trying to bite my dick off.
Dave leaned over Jerome and kissed me. Jerome's cum was still fresh on his breath and buried in his cheek pouches. The taste of fresh cum always got me off. This was no exception. Within seconds of plugging into Jerome, my balls pulled up tight against the base of my dick. I could feel my fat dickhead and shaft swell even more. My breathing became ragged as Dave kissed me harder. I, too, warned of my impending climax, but Jerome only begged me for my cream. I flooded his ass with my hot, creamy load of ball honey. My cock jerked and sprayed as I rammed his hole repeatedly, mixing my sauce with Dave's offering.
I pulled out and reached for some paper to clean off. Jerome would have none of that, giving me the same thorough cleaning that Dave's dick had endured. The sensitive head had me dancing to get away from the doorman's sucking mouth, but Jerome was determined to give my sperm-coated dick the same treatment.
When he'd done enough, he smiled, smacking his lips. We got dressed again (such as it was). Then, Jerome laughed. "I wish my boyfriend were here. He'd have really loved taking your dicks up his butt, too. But, what he's really missing is eating your loads outta my ass. He loves that!" Jerome exulted. Dave winced, still not convinced that felching was that enjoyable.
Jerome opened the stall door. Standing outside was one of the sex pigs that'd been servicing nearly everyone in the bathroom. "I'll do that!" he offered, having heard what Jerome had just said.
"Sorry, Friend," Jerome smiled. "But, I gotta get back to the door before I get my ass fired. If you're still here at one, I'll be happy to let you eat it out."
"I'll be here, Jerome," the pig assured him.
We returned to our group near the bar. "You smell like sex," Ken laughed. "And you've been gone a long time. Who'd you do?" At that moment, Jerome passed by, smiling. He stopped, kissed Dave and me individually, and returned to his duty at the door. "Not Jerome! You didn't!" We only nodded sheepishly. "Where?"
"Men's room," Dave revealed. "And he's a very hungry bottom." I grinned, confirming Dave's summation.
"I knew you'd score with him, but I had no idea it'd be here," Trent laughed. "I only wish I'd been there to watch."
"Down, Boy," Ken smiled. "We can't even watch, remember?"
Trent sighed. "Yeah, I know. We'd want to participate."
"We could renegotiate anytime, you know."
"Events like this make me wonder if we've done the right thing," Trent replied.
"How long have you been together?" Dave asked.
"Five months," they responded in unison.
"It's still too early to make any permanent rules that you can't change," I broke in. "Talk about it. You may decide to change or may not. Either way, you've talked about it. That's what's important."
"We want to bareback, but have to wait another month before we can," Trent revealed.
"A very worthy goal," Dave agreed. "You'll love it. I think it's worth waiting for. I highly recommend it. For me, it's the deepest expression of love and trust."
It was approaching 12:30. The crowd was thinning out, and Ken and Trent needed to get home so they'd be awake for work. Keeping them out all night wasn't what they'd bargained for. "Why don't you guys go home?" I suggested. "We'll stay out until they throw us out and catch a cab back to the hotel. As you pointed out, we can sleep on the plane."
They agreed. Trent returned to the car and retrieved our shirts. When he came back, Ken was telling us quietly how much he missed the chase and finding new men to bed nearly every night. But, Trent had changed that for the better. However, that didn't mean that Ken didn't miss the thrill of the hunt and the discovery of new, tight butts and big dicks to service. With brotherly kisses for us, they departed.
The remaining new friends crowded around us, trying to get our undivided attention in their direction. All were appealing for different reasons, but the selection of potential bed partners wasn't going to be easy. But, one man pressed his case better than the others. He was more personable, more self-assured, and more of that special "daddy" look that Dave and I loved. He reminded me a little bit of that Italian hunk, Joe, the landscaper. Although we generally went for taller men, he was shorter than most of our admirers at about 5'9". But, his big shoulders and arms, round, muscle ass, and smiling eyes brought our attention back to him during any pause in the conversation. His dark goatee is what got my attention. It was so perfect for his face. A leather vest, heavy boots, and tight, worn Levis completed the manly picture.
By one, the crowd had thinned even more, leaving our Joe look-alike and three others. Two of them went to the bathroom (trailing Jerome, who seemed to have gotten what he wanted from us) and the third went back to the bar to get another drink. That's when he made his move. "Look, you guys are so hot you could get anyone in here you wanted. I'm not the biggest, or butchest, or best looking guy here, but I can show you the best time you've ever had in bed, besides with your lover that is," he hastily added. We smiled at his fast recovery and sales pitch. "And, I have tomorrow off, so we don't have to rush through anything. I understand you're versatile and so am I, although if pressed, I love to bottom." We grinned again at his honesty.
I looked at Dave and he winked at me. I didn't even know this guy's name and I was sold. "What's your name?" Dave asked. "In all the commotion, I'm sure you said it, but I don't recall it." At least I wasn't the only one with name problems.
"Gino," he beamed, hoping this was a good sign. "You won't regret it."
"Sold, Gino," Dave laughed. "We like your look. Our hotel or your place?"
"Your hotel nearby?" We nodded. "Good! I live way out in the burbs. It'd take us a good 30 minutes to get there."
"We're about five minutes away," I smiled. Gino walked out with us, to the disappointed sighs of many. He strode up to a Taurus sedan parked three blocks away. It wasn't what I expected, but it was transportation. To me, he looked more like a sports car driver.
As though he were reading my mind, he said, "My car's in the shop being repaired. Some kid plowed into the back of me when I stopped for a light changing to red. He thought we should have run the light. I hope you don't mind middle-class suburbia."
"It's wheels," Dave allowed. "What do you normally drive?"
"An Audi TT," Gino laughed. "It would have been difficult getting both of you big guys in that thing. Maybe, it's just as well that I have the Taurus tonight."
"The TT's a nice car," I agreed. "Kinda tough for hauling passengers and large purchases around, though."
"Is it ever!" Gino laughed. "I go with a friend of mine if we decide to hit Costco," he added giggling. "He drives, of course."
"A good friend, then," Dave acknowledged.
"A former boyfriend," Gino sighed. "Hot in bed, but we couldn't live together. We're too different. So, now, he's sort of a fuck buddy."
"Whatever works," Dave smiled. He gave brief directions to get us to our hotel. Gino parked in the hotel lot designated for guests. I stopped at the front desk to let them know that a car was parked in their lot. The desk clerk gave me a numbered form to fill in the license number and make of the vehicle. I handed that over to Gino to quickly fill in, taking the lower half of the form to sit on the dashboard of the Taurus.
With that task completed, he joined us in the elevator for the ride to the 15th floor. "I need a shower after the way I've been sweating. And all that smoke makes me reek," he smiled, kissing me first, then, Dave.
"I think we could use a quick rinse, too," I agreed, remembering where our dicks had been only an hour earlier.
"Make it only a rinse," Gino grinned. "I like my men to taste like MEN!" he emphasized. "NOT like soap." We smiled our agreement. "I sure hope you fuck as good as you look," he said again. "I haven't been with my ex for better than two weeks and I'm VERY needy tonight." We smiled, again. "I hope I chose right by getting two big men. I need one to fuck me while the other sits on my face. I'm really a pig for butt munching," he gleefully revealed.
"I think you've chosen wisely, then," Dave laughed. "We're into that, too."
"Perhaps, holding me down and making me be your sex slave for a few hours, too?" he added hopefully.
"We'll see what we can do," I grinned as the elevator doors opened on fifteen. I slipped my hand down the back of his nearly threadbare pants. He arched his back, pushing back into my exploring fingers as we walked down the hallway. His sweaty, moist ass trench felt hairy and wet. Just the way I love them!
Dave turned the key in the door lock, and we walked in. I pulled my hand out of Gino's pants and sniffed. Nice sweaty, salty, manly smell. I liked it. Dave bent over and sniffed, too. He grinned. "VERY nice. I hope there's much more where that came from, Gino."
"I'll try not to rinse off too much," he laughed. Which way to the bathroom?" he asked slipping off his boots and vest. I showed him the way. "Nice sized shower," he smiled. "I'll bet it could accommodate all of us at once."
"Exactly my thoughts," Dave agreed over my shoulder. "A 'friendly' size." Shedding our clothes, we stepped into the warm spray of the shower. We rinsed thoroughly, melting away the smoke and sweat of the evening, plus a quick soaping of your dicks to take away the "flavor" of Jerome's butt.
We toweled off. Gino's hairy, muscled body fascinated both of us. I licked the shower water from his hairy ass trench. He certainly enjoyed that, bending over farther and pulling his melon cheeks apart. The hot smell and taste of his tight asshole hit me like a bolt of aphrodisiac. I wanted to mount his tight, butch ass immediately. But, Dave would have none of that. He wanted some time in his deep trench, too. He spun him around and pushed him over, sampling where I'd just been. His groans of delight echoed around the bathroom walls. Gino lapped at my pulsating dickhead, savoring the taste of my precum. He grinned and gargled around the shaft, sucking more dick shaft into his mouth. I hesitated, but he was determined. Down his throat my throbber went, his nose buried hard into my pubes. The man had talent!
Meanwhile, Dave had been tonguing Gino's hot, hairy asshole. He rooted around in Gino's butt like a pig searching for truffles. "Let's take this to the bed," Dave finally breathed. "I know a butt that needs more work," he added, patting the swarthy Italian's muscle ass.
Gino hit the bed first; his legs flew into the air. He motioned me over to squat over his face. I was only too happy to oblige. I swooped down on his chest, licking my way south, swabbing down his abs to his thick bush. Dave hadn't lost time, either. He'd pushed Gino's legs back to Gino's chest, raising the Italian's butt off the bed. Dave dove in, reacquainting his tongue with Gino's delectable butthole. Gino squirmed and moaned beneath our servicing. He pulled my ass down to sit astride his face, replicating what Dave was doing to his butt.
"Let's take this slow and easy," Dave instructed. "We have all night." Gino backed off, as did I. Dave followed his own lead, licking less feverishly at Gino's nether region. With the reduced pace, we swapped positions and partners several more times. I even found time to locate enough condoms for all of us. By two a.m., we'd been completely oral; no one had been fucked. Yet.
But, it couldn't last. Gino's desperate, hungry cries for deep penetration couldn't be ignored any longer. Dave was the first to answer his calls. Gino and I were in a casual 69 dick-sucking position with Gino on top. With that many minutes of stimulation gone by, there was no way I could avoid cumming if I'd been on top. From that position, Dave had a perfect target to hit. His butt munching skills were driving Gino crazy. As he chewed and lapped at the Italian's hairy hole, he quietly rolled on a large condom. In one smooth motion, he replaced his tongue with his bloated trouser snake. Gino sighed loudly with pleasure, feeling the blunt instrument spreading him further open and penetrating beyond his joy button.
Dave leaned over Gino's back and whispered in his ear, "This what you had in mind, Stud?"
Dave kissed my dick as Gino replied, "Yeah! I knew it was a big one and had to feel this good. Go slowly, though. I wanna ride this monster for a long time."
"Then, stop milking it!" Dave softly laughed. "I've been so near the edge since we got in the shower."
"If your boyfriend doesn't back off soon, I'll be flooding his mouth and REALLY milking your dick, Dave!" he warned.
"Who, me? I'm not doing anything," I protested weakly, giggling as I said it. I'd been working his dick harder as more inches of Dave's dick disappeared. Gino's dick jerked and swelled in my mouth as Dave withdrew this thick, long dick and plunged in again, going a little deeper with each push. Between us, Gino had no choice. He was going to cum and he couldn't hold it back.
"Ah, SHIT!" he moaned around my dick. "Gonna cum!" He plunged his hips forward, then, hard back, impaling himself on the mighty sword in his butthole and gripping viciously. His dickhead between my lips was getting the licking of its life. It throbbed and kicked hard. I tasted cum. Gino shouted out a chorus of "FUCK ME!" with each jet of cum that rocketed into my mouth and throat. He couldn't decide if he wanted to take Dave's racing cock even deeper and go for maximum pleasure through his shooting dick. His climax paralysis caused him to do neither. He froze on all fours, shaking like a leaf in the gale of his jerking dick and spasming butt.
My dick was being ignored, but I didn't care. Sucking up his thickly rich, creamy load satisfied me. I toyed with his big nuts, stroking and pulling them to extract as much cum as I could. Gino groaned more loudly, begging for more of Dave's fat dick up his ass, as I felt more of Gino's ball honey squirt across my tongue. The harder Dave pumped, the greedier and more urgent Gino's calls of "FUCK ME!" echoed off the walls.
Dave pulled out after he felt Gino's climax waves recede, but Dave hadn't cum. My lips remained glued to Gino's dick, hoping to pull out one more drop of his tasty spooge. Gino has the same sensitivity problem that I do, so he pushed me away, laughing. "That tickles! STOP!" he guffawed as I chased his dick.
After resting five minutes (during which Dave and I tantalized him with our thick, meat missiles rubbed across his lips and his deep, hairy ass trench), Gino decided that we were skipping the "preliminaries" this time and going directly to the "main event." At the moment, I was rubbing my drooling dick against his doggie style ass with Dave oozing precum on to Gino's full lips. "I wanna feel that big-headed dick stretch me open, again, Mike. Give it to me!" He handed me a condom and elevated his butt nearly to my face. As I worked my tongue up his ass, I rolled on the condom, added a dollop of lube, and swapped out my tongue for my eager fuckstick. In one easy slide, I hit bottom and ground in as deeply as it could go. Dave had already gone deeper, and from the ease with which he'd taken Dave a few minutes ago, he'd enjoyed large dicks before.
But, his control over his ass channel was astonishing. By his moans and the milking action on my dick, he made it feel and sound like I was the biggest dick he'd ever taken. Even though his noises were muffled by Dave's thick, black dick in his throat, anyone could tell he was enjoying two men servicing him.
I leaned over his back and kissed Dave hungrily. In unison, we slowly fucked the Italian stud at both ends. His orifices greedily engulfed both of us to the hilt with wild abandon. The deeper and harder we fucked him, the louder his grunts of approval.
Try as I might, there was no denying Gino's skills. He wanted me to cum in his ass (with condom, of course), and wouldn't take any verbiage or action to the contrary. I even tried to pull out to delay my climax, but he wouldn't have it. He grabbed my ass with both hands and plunged my butt stretcher deeply back into him. He set the pace into his hairy hole with his big hands on my ass. I was only the provider of the hard cock and eventual cum load. In this manner, I didn't mind being used as a thing for his pleasure. Quite the contrary, I loved it.
"You are gonna get such a load," I cautioned, banging him faster and faster. Gino turned his head and smiled, then, went back to blowing Dave as deeply as he could get the 11" black dick down his throat. Dave resumed kissing me as I hit my climax. The passion of our kiss translated to a deep, dick drilling of Gino's ass. I grabbed Dave's shoulders and held on. My hips bucked automatically, spraying thick ropes of cum into Gino's dick-stripping ass. I shouted and bellowed my climax peak; each echo slammed my hips forward, squirting more cream into the delightfully milking ass.
But, what works while squirting is too much stimulation after my climax wanes. I pulled out in a hurry, breathing heavily, stroking out the last waves of pleasure, and slapping his furry butt with my shrinking dick. I stripped off the condom and rested on my heels. Dave spun Gino around and plugged in with his hastily condomed butt- wrecker. Gino winced and howled in a mixture of pleasure and pain. No matter how well trained your ass is, a thick, long monster like Dave's isn't something you can instantly accommodate. I shoved my cum-dripping cock into Gino's mouth. It acted as an instant pacifier; groans of pleasure and desire replaced any earlier pain messages.
Dave slowly fucked our Italian friend. From the odd rhythm he was employing, I figured out from my own experience that he was trying to get Gino to cum without touching his dick. Dave's thick dick rubbed against Gino's prostate in short jabs, then, plunged all the way in. This would be the catalyst for the furry man's second climax of the evening. I'd been the recipient of that short jab/long stroke rhythm before. It's undeniable. Climax is inevitable, no matter your discipline and control. You can't win.
Gino didn't care who won. He wanted Dave to cum in his ass this time for sure. If he got off as a part of that arrangement, he was okay with that, too. But, first, he was concentrating of extracting more cum from my shrinking dick. As I drain for a good five minutes after climax, his reward was minimal, but steady. He was delighted with being serviced at both ends. He may have thought of himself as versatile, but this man was definitely a talented, hungry bottom.
Dave's mesmerizing rhythm of four or five short jabs, working Gino's prostate relentlessly, then, ramming fully into the Italian's hairy ass had become a blur. Dave was close to his climax. Gino was apparently giving him the same milking treatment I'd received. Both men had their talents, but it was anyone's guess as to which talent would prevail.
Gino turned me around and drove his face into my ass. He seemed to believe I had no more cum to give him, and he did love the taste of my ass. I was certainly fine with that development. I rolled on to my back and scooted up to his face, lifting my ass to his level as I pulled my knees into my chest. He moaned with pleasure. Whether it was Dave's talent or my ass, he didn't provide details. However, I didn't care and neither did Dave. I enjoyed Gino's goatee munching at my pucker and Dave's thrusts were reaching the "urgent" phase. Plowing Gino's ass with rapid, long strokes had to be the final act before climax. Dave's face contorted into his pre-climax attempt to delay what couldn't be delayed.
"AH, SHIT!" Gino bellowed, his hands on my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and eating me out furiously. I felt warm liquid splashing on my back and ass. Dave joined Gino's loud proclamation of climax with hips to ass punctuations of sweaty skin slapping furry skin. Gino couldn't keep his hands away from his spraying dick. I fell back to the bed as he released me and he stroked himself vigorously, completing the climax that Dave had spurred.
Dave's big hands pulled Gino hard into Dave's hips, grinding in all thick 11" of meat, causing Gino to spray wildly. I tried my best to turn around flip over and get beneath Gino to suck up his errant spooge. But, I was far too late to make a difference. The bed comforter was well soaked.
Again, at three, four, and six a.m., we individually mounted Gino and serviced his tight, furry, Italian ass. He never suggested that he top one of us. And our nuts were so well drained that we didn't suggest it, either. Gino shot down my throat at three a.m. and Dave's at four and six. But, all our "fuck" loads were safely captured in condoms deep in Gino's hungry, eager ass.
By 6:30, our last, most leisurely session concluded with an exchange of information about what we did for a living. We told him we were investors, but didn't add any details. He smiled and said he'd give us some free consulting time, if we needed it. He was a stockbroker. I'd keep that in mind, if I started getting conflicting advice from our investment counselors.
We showered first, having to do some last minute packing for our trip. Gino had only to shower and put on his clothes from last night. He left off the leather vest, carrying that over one arm. His hairy chest turned many heads as he strode down the hallway to the elevators. With a farewell kiss on the lips, we exchanged addresses and phone numbers (and the taste of cum). We walked him to his car (more heads turning and appreciating our hirsute friend), groped him one last time, and sent him home. We returned to the hotel lobby, checked out, reserved space on the hotel shuttle to the airport, and waited for our ride.
We'd considered breakfast at the hotel, but decided that for our international flight, we should check in early there and catch breakfast where we could. The line at the ticket counter for the London flight wasn't overly long. We produced our passports and tickets, checked our luggage, and headed for our gate. By 7:30, we began looking for a restaurant that was open. Several fast food places were open for breakfast, but we didn't want fast food. The Andiamo Restaurant got our immediate attention with their breakfast buffet. We tried to keep the fat grams down to a minimum by stuffing ourselves with fruit and nonfat yogurt. However, we couldn't resist a ham and cheese omelet with fresh tomatoes and basil. I ordered mimosas and told the waiter to keep them coming. Dave nodded his agreement.
We poured ourselves on to the plane at 8:50, slightly tipsy, but not plastered. Our Business Class seats were toward the front of the plane, but not in First Class. Even with our successful investments, I couldn't see parting with $10,000 a piece to fly a few feet in front of others flying at less than $1,000. Business Class at $3,000 was still pretty steep. However, the seats were bigger (for our big shoulders, not our big asses, thank you very little!), and the service nearly rivaled First Class.
American Airlines Flight #90 was pushed away from the gate a few minutes late (9:15 instead of 9:10). The Boeing 767 was about 2/3 full. Business and First Class were about half full. Our steward was a young man about our age. His smile was genuine as his gaydar picked us up instantly. "I know it'll be an enjoyable flight with you gentleman flying with us," he grinned. He took our drink orders (champagne, of course), indicating he would be serving us as soon as we were airborne. The aircraft captain told the passengers that we were next in the take-off line and would be on our way to London very shortly. Estimated flying time was seven hours and twenty-five minutes into Heathrow. He would easily make up for our five minutes late departure and probably get us there before our scheduled 10:35 p.m. (local time) arrival.
The rollout and take off was smooth as silk. The big plane roared into the sky, climbing smartly until we reached our cruising altitude. Before the "fasten seat belt" sign had been turned off, our friendly steward was at Dave's side, plying us with our order of champagne. The flutes gleamed in the light streaming through the cabin window, the bubbles slowly ascended, leaving a small puddle of foam on the surface of the golden nectar. This was good stuff, I decided. They treat their Business Class patrons with some class. I liked that. Dave mentioned how good the champagne was, too. Our steward, Max, whispered that he'd "appropriated" it from First Class. We were more deserving than the demanding prima donnas up there. We didn't argue the point, enjoying our "giggle water" as he called it.
Max worked he way through the other First Class and Business passengers before returning to the seat across the aisle from Dave, where he sat and conversed with us for most of the remainder of the flight. He did get up every few minutes to check on his "charges" in First Class and a perfunctory glance at the other Business Class passengers. Nearly all of them were busy with their laptop computers and wanted to be left alone.
"Are you members of the 'Mile High Club' yet?" he asked.
I laughed out loud. Dave only looked embarrassed. "We've only flown back and forth to Vancouver, B.C., Sacramento and to Chicago together. There haven't been any true opportunities to take advantage of that 'exclusive' membership," I revealed.
"I wish those damned bathrooms on these planes were bigger. I'd love to get in there with both of you," he grinned devilishly. We blushed appropriately. "However, I know there's room for two," he added conspiratorially. Again, we blushed. "Look, when you decide you want to get it on, just go up one at a time, leave the door unlocked, but closed. I'll stand guard to be sure none of the other passengers try to get in. I'm very good at engaging them in pointless conversation until the other one of you gets in there. And I'll run interference when you leave, too."
An invitation like that couldn't be ignored. "How about after lunch?" I suggested. "Most of the passengers will be drowsy after a good meal."
"What we serve, I wouldn't call a good meal, but I get your point," Max giggled softly. Max left to check on his First Class passengers, again.
"Besides," Dave smiled, "that gives us time to recharge our batteries after last night's orgy." I laughed out loud, again.
Max returned a few minutes later. "Sheesh! Those martinets in First are on my last nerve." He sighed, then, smiled at us. "How long are you staying in London?" he asked.
"Just a couple of days to get over jet lag," Dave volunteered. "Then, off to Europe for a few weeks of playing tourist."
"Did you have specific plans while in London?"
"None to speak of. Just the usual tourist traps, I suppose," Dave offered looking to me for confirmation. I shrugged, not having really thought that far ahead. Of course, we wanted to do Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, and Harrods. But, those are traditional tourist destinations.
"Good. I want you to come to our place in the city. Conrad would love to meet you, I know. We'll be your tour guides!" Max bubbled.
"Conrad's your other half?" asked Dave.
"Yeah, he's German, working for Lufthansa in London. Big, blonde, Nordic number swept me off my feet three years ago when he first moved to London to run their office here. He's quite the stud. But, to keep up with me, he'd have to be," he grinned.
We let that one slide for the moment. Dave gave him the name of the hotel and our names, so Max could call us tomorrow morning. As we would arrive at Heathrow so late in the evening, it'd be midnight before we got to our hotel and then to bed. He wasn't sure of Conrad's schedule, so Max would call us about eight in the morning. We'd make plans after the call. Fridays were usually a slow day, so Max would try to talk Conrad into working only half a day.
"And let me clue you in," Max added. "Don't nap on the plane. The fastest way to get over jet lag is to immediately adopt the clock at your destination. In this case, go to bed as soon as you check in to the hotel." As we got very little sleep last night with Gino entertaining us, it would be a struggle to remain awake for the remainder of the flight. However, with a chatterbox like Max around, that wouldn't be a problem.
With his easy manner, he found out more about us than nearly anyone knew. Of course, he rattled on and on about himself and Conrad. Lunch was served about one o'clock, Chicago-time. Crystal, china, and silverware provided the place setting. The food even looked and tasted pretty good. He had salad left over from First Class, so he offered us another helping of that. The rib eye steaks on the menu for First Class weren't being selected, so he offered us that as well. That included the baked potato and condiments, too. Dessert was a wedge of apple pie with cheddar cheese melted across the top, and festooned with whipped cream. There were far too many fat grams, but we were on vacation!
Max continued to check on his charges in First and Business Class, but always wound up next to Dave, revealing more about his career as a steward and his relationship with Conrad. He wound down enough to ask pointedly (more to himself), why we looked so familiar. Had we flown with American to Europe before, he wondered.
We smiled. "Well, we've been in the news lately," Dave began. Max's eyebrows shot up. "Nothing too scandalous, but we were involved in a little disagreeable situation in Vancouver, Canada, and..."
"That's where I know you from. Both of you were at the Embassy there when that wacko attacked it."
"Consulate," I corrected. No one seemed to understand or care about the difference. It was a losing battle.
"Whatever," Max responded (just like everyone else). "And you did that curbside press conference, too. Conrad said at the time that that was very brave of you to stand up like that. Besides," Max laughed, "he thinks you're both delicious looking. That's a rough translation. He was more graphic than that, of course."
I leaned across Dave and whispered, "Tell!" Dave smiled, then, laughed.
Max was taken aback by my boldness and Dave's encouragement. "Well," he started, leaning in closer, "he said he would love to get both of you in bed and fuck you to death, while the one he wasn't fucking would fuck him to death!" he giggled. "Belatedly, he included me in this sordid little Passion play of his. Of course, because he's so good looking and such a stud muffin, he thinks you'd be hot for him, too."
"Oh?" I smiled, hoping for more details. I wasn't disappointed.
"Nordic god! He's 6'6", weighs about 260, possibly more, but he won't tell me. He's all muscle (even though he's 41), and loves sex in all forms and disguises. He's so blonde that his hair is nearly white. And that big, toothy grin of his melts your heart. He always gets his way," Max sighed, then, laughed. "But, I don't mind. He's very good to me."
"Sounds to me like you're very compatible," Dave agreed.
"Yeah, we are. He's mostly a top, which suits me just fine. But, he does have his moments when he needs to get dicked and dicked GOOD!" Max smiled brightly. "He's sure a demanding bottom when he's in that mood."
"I'm sure you give him what he needs," I smiled knowingly, winking at Dave.
"I know how to keep him happy," Max smiled mysteriously.
"How do you keep the relationship going when you fly so much?" I asked.
"That's probably why it's lasted," he said. "But, I'm not gone more than three days at any one stretch, so the reunion is always joyful and heavily sexual. He's quite the sexual person. I always tell him that he gets it from his Nazi grandfather."
Our eyebrows shot up questioningly. "Really?" Dave blurted out.
"Oh, yeah. His dad is a product of a program that Hitler pushed in the 1930's and 1940's. The most Aryan officers were coupled up with nubile young women to produce more of the 'Master Race,' regardless of the marital status of the participants. You've heard of it, right?"
"Yeah, but I don't recall the name of it," I nodded.
"I don't either," Max sighed. "But, I'm sure Conrad does."
"Hitler would've had a cow if he'd known that the product of his clever genetics experiment turned out fags," Dave smirked. "Surely, there must be more gay men than Conrad from this merry little group."
"I know there's an association of people who are the products of this crazy program, but I doubt that they have done any studies to answer that question," Max smiled. "They probably wouldn't publish it, if they did."
"Still a little superior, are they?" I asked.
"Some of them are, yes," Max agreed. "You can't seem to get hate out of the human soul."
"There's an 'amen' in this corner," Dave nodded. "We've experienced it, but certainly not to the extent many others have.
"Hence, your curbside speech," Max smiled.
"Yeah, it did get my hackles up," Dave said.
"I'd better check on the children," Max sighed, rising to look in on his First Class passengers.
"I don' know about you," I yawned, "but, I'm getting sleepy."
"Same here, but we need to stay awake so we can sleep when we get to our hotel. Jet lag isn't pretty," he added, "even for one as delicious as you."
I kissed him and smiled. "You sweet talker."
"I need to drain my kidneys. Wanna join me?" he smirked.
"I'll follow you shortly. Max will keep the riffraff away."
Dave laughed and headed for the forward bathroom. The door closed behind him, but the "engaged" light didn't turn on. Max glanced my direction and smiled. I rose and walked towards him. He drew the privacy curtain for First Class as I passed. I grinned at his helpful nature. He handed me some moist towelettes still in their foil wrappers. "Just in case you need to clean up," he snickered.
Dave was sitting as I opened the door, his pants around his ankles. He reached out and pulled me inside, unzipping my pants are I closed the door. His warm mouth closed around my dickhead and he sucked vigorously. I flipped the "engaged" lock to keep others out. "Drop your pants," Dave whispered. "I need to taste more than your dickhead."
Dutifully, I allowed my pants to drop to the floor. He pulled my shorts down with his teeth, breathing hotly on my dick and nuts as his mouth passed them. In a matter of moments, I was fully hard and leaking precum between his sucking lips. He licked my rolling nuts, but couldn't get underneath them due to the lack of space. "Turn around," he whispered. I smiled and turned. His big hands massaged my muscled ass. He face dove into my ass trench, lapping and licking at my sweaty crack. It was all I could do to keep from crying out with pleasure. I pushed my ass back into his face as best I could, causing him to sit more upright, but getting his face deeper into me.
"Max gave me some towelettes to clean up," I murmured. "The only way to really do this right is for you to fuck me." I lowered my body into his lap. I felt the big head of his monster dick touch and smear precum on my rosebud. He couldn't give me all 11" of dick due to the confined space, but as he entered me, the big head hit my prostate with a vengeance. Short-dicking me always made my ass happy and got me off faster than any other technique I could recall (not that I was thinking about anything right then other than getting fucked).
His hands stole under my shirt, working on my erect nips as he plunged faster and faster up my ass. I milked and massaged his thickness as best I could. We couldn't have been at it more than a minute when I felt the pressure building in my nuts. I was going to cum and I wouldn't be able to hold it back. As I'd been fiddling with the towelette packet, I ripped it open and unrolled it, holding it around my leaking, throbbing dickhead. Spraying the inside of the lavatory door wasn't a good idea. The smell of sex was going to nearly overwhelm whoever stepped in next.
"FUCK!" Dave moaned in a stage whisper. "Cumming!" he added through gritted teeth. I didn't need the announcement or the added stimulus, but I could feel his plum-sized dickhead swell and jerk inside me. With a final lunge, he unloaded hot sperm into me, spraying my ass walls with ropes of creamy jizz. Stroking my own cock, I shot a heavy load into the towelette, filling it.
The climax waves ebbed as we caught our collective breath. I pulled off his dick, clamping my ass shut to hold in his baby sauce. Handing him another towelette, he cleaned off his dick as I used another to clean my cum-smeared ass. I pulled up my pants and opened the door a crack. No one was in sight. I stepped out as Max walked out of the galley kitchen. He'd been hidden from view by cabinets. "Have a good time?"
I nodded. "Uh, I didn't think these would flush," I said holding up three used towelettes and their containers. "Is there a good place to dispose of them?" He grinned and held out his hand. He sniffed the group of them. "Be careful of this one," I indicated. "It's kinda full of, uh, juice." He grinned even broader. "Don't tell me you're a cum pig, too?" I laughed quietly.
He smiled and nodded. "Shamelessly so," he admitted as Dave drew up behind me.
"It smells heavily of sex in there," Dave apologized. "Sorry," he smiled, but he wasn't the least bit sorry.
"The air circulates outside directly," Max explained, not having to go into detail. "But, I think I'll just go make sure," he laughed. "Of course, I'll take this along," he grinned, taking my spooge filled towelette and tossing the other two. He stopped, picked up another packet and smiled. "I may need this, too." He turned and headed for the bathroom. "Oh, welcome to the Mile High Club!" he chortled. The lavatory door closed behind him as we returned to our seats.
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