"The Knocking Over of the Trophy"
I
Scott couldn't believe his luck! Not only had he finished welding school. The 21-year-old had left Idaho. To be sure, his parents and older brother berated him for "leaving the family," even though Scott had been living in his apartment for some time. His younger brother and younger sister, however, understood Scott's need to move further away.
"Hey!" Felix said.
Scott jerked his baby blues off the bar table.
Felix's voice returned to its natural hoarseness. "It's daytime, in case you have forgotten."
"No time for dozing off," Ivan said in his mellifluous voice.
As if casting fishhooks, Scott threw Felix and Ivan side-glances--first left, then right. "Bear with me."
"Heading for north of the border must have taken a lot of guts," Felix said. "I bet you have a lot on your mind."
"You could say that," Scott drawled.
Felix lifted his bottle away from the stripes of sunlight. He tilted back his glass bottle and short neck and swigged some beer. The swarthiness of Felix's neck and nape accentuated the fog of dimness behind him.
Scott raised his square chin toward the short guy.
Felix slapped his bottle onto the shellacked wood of the table. "Have you hooked up with any babes?"
"Not yet," Scott muttered.
"And you've been here three weeks?" Ivan piped in. "We have to get our bass guitarist some cunt."
Scott's dick twitched.
"Actually," Bert said from in front, "my girlfriend has been taking a liking to Scott."
The rattling plates and glasses must have distorted Bert's words from the kitchen, Scott surmised, for no dude would ever talk like this.
"Lily doesn't like us?" Ivan whined. "What doesn't she see in her fellow Canadians?"
"Lily's dating me, isn't she?" Bert said, "and Lily thinks that you and Felix are cool. But the both of you are in closed relationships. Scott is single ... and he is American."
"So what?" Ivan said.
A grin tiptoed across the stubble of Bert's face. "Lily's never done it with an American."
"I'm feeling like crap," Ivan said. "I'm getting out of here." He flashed his teeth in a quasi-smirk and fidgeted to his black sneakers.
Bert bent forward and grabbed Ivan's forearm. "Not so fast, tiger." Like a batter at the end of a pitch, Bert kept his head down and forward. Slowly, Bert tugged Ivan's pale forearm.
Ivan allowed muscle and gravity to pull him back onto his Windsor chair of camel. "This better be good."
Bert released his grip.
Bert's hair bordered between lanky and wavy. Like strings of jute, it dangled from the sides of Bert's head onto the shellacked wood of the table.
What a contrast, Scott thought, between Bert's sleek hair of bronze, Felix's medium waves of chestnut-brown, and Ivan's short, upright hair spikes of coffee bean brown. Scott's shaggy hair, by contrast, was dishwater blond and short as the fur of a Dachshund.
Bert squinched up his mildly squinty eyes. "You can't expect Lily to open her heart to guys like you."
"You mean, guys in `closed relationships,'" Ivan said, drawing quotes in the air.
"You chose to enter into such relationships," Bert said.
"Only because our girlfriends would've lost it had we suggested otherwise," Felix bounced in. He huffed impatiently. "You bis are so lucky. You have your own sections of town across North America and Europe, your bi chicks to pick from, your radio and cable networks, your fraternities and sororities, bi workout clubs, bi sports teams, and the freedom to enjoy the best of both worlds."
Scott skimmed the wooden tables around him--and breathed easier when he found them still vacant.
"Bi power is the product of decades of organizing," Bert said.
Scott's skin itched with droplets of moisture.
"We have gone from 6% of the population to 17%," Bert went on. "Sociologists predict that number will skyrocket in the 2020s."
"That's around the corner!" Scott protested.
Quick as lightning, the three turned their collegiate faces to Scott.
What have I done? Scott thought. Up to then, he had restrained his impetuousness. It was his way of ingratiating himself with this group, as opposed to flying off the handle in the style of back home. Scott drew a deep breath.
The beery air, however, had turned thick enough to drink.
Scott took a swill of his suds.
It didn't make a difference, for Scott's throat was drier than beach sand. Scott needed ice water in his mouth--and on his skin. But with the early June heat oozing into the bar-restaurant, Scott wasn't sure that ice would hold for long in a drinking glass.
Scott rose to his black cowboy boots. "I better go."
"You're not getting blue balls, are you?" Felix said.
"Come again?" Scott replied.
"You know, with Bert talking about loaning his babe to you."
"Nuh," Scott said. "I just need fresh air ... and some bottled water out of that vendin' machine. I'll see you tomorrow at band practice."
"Maybe we can ride together next time, eh?" Bert said.
Not if you keep makin' me feel this uncomfortable, Scott thought.
II
A silver silo glinted in front of the western sun. Pebbles crackled under the dusty cowboy boots of the collegians. The smell of wheat, chicory, spearmint, and honeysuckle wafted through the air like butterflies in search of flowers. The macadam road, in turn, continued to inch past everyone.
Lily and Bert came to a halt.
Twenty feet behind, Felix, Ivan, and Scott stopped.
Lily and Bert turned their round chins toward each other. The couple puckered their lips and sucked maple syrup out of each fold.
Felix exhaled. "Lord, have mercy."
Scott turned his face left and glanced at the skin of wheat bread.
Ivan added, "Lead us not into temptation."
Scott glimpsed rightward at the skin of English muffins. Never had Scott felt like ham in the middle. Accordingly, part of him wanted to ah at what Lily was doing, while part of him was determined to keep his desires hidden.
Felix uttered, "I hate to say this, Scott. But if I were you, I would decline their offer."
"If I were you, I would take it," Ivan chimed in.
Left to right, Scott's face turned like a surveillance camera sped up sixfold. Scott stopped. Pensively, he turned his face back left. "Why would you decline their offer?"
"Do you have a loose screw upstairs?" Felix said. "No dude lends his chick to another dude."
"Bi dudes do," Ivan said eagerly.
"Nothing is free in this world," Felix stated. "If a guy lends his gal, he wants something in return."
"Like what?" Scott pressed.
"I don't know," Felix moaned. "Fulfilling his girlfriend's fantasies? Indulging his libido? Recruiting a straight guy to his side of the fence?"
"You're exaggerating," Ivan said. "Bi guys share their girls all the time, and there is no `recruiting' involved."
"But the bi men please each other in ways that would make Scott very nervous."
Scott fell short of breath.
"Whatever the answer, one thing is for sure," Felix said. "Bert must really like you to offer his girlfriend's cooch to you."
Scott's heart slugged outward like a fist. Why, Scott raged, did Felix have to rub in the obvious? Wasn't the sight before them temptation enough? Anger welled up in Scott like a whirl of water boiling to the surface of a sauna.
Scott grumped, "If you're so terrified of relishin' Bert's dessert, why were you so upset yesterday when Bert mentioned Lily's lack of interest in you?"
"Look at her!" Felix said.
Lily and Bert were still smooching--a robin and a cardinal singing into each other's mouths. Lily's short dress of maize was tracing paper shimmering in the sunshine, and the slim curves of her physique rippled under the fabric.
A whiff of yearning escaped Scott.
Lily's hair was an auburn handkerchief of silk, and it rose toward the small cornrows of her crown bun. No princess had ever worn a crown as beautiful as hers. Lily's thin strands of hair glowed like the wheat fields around the roaming party. The tip of Lily's nose, in turn, reflected the low sun as if a golden dime.
Scott's testicles stuck to the bottom of his sack like boiling shell noodles in need of a stirring. Scott grasped his nuts, and in surprise at his act, he let them go.
Felix looked at Scott askance. Ivan, however, cast Scott an approving side-glance.
Should I go for Bert's offer? Scott pondered. If he did, Scott knew that he would have to pay big time, for no guy would lend his girl for free.
A gust of wind blew upon Scott's face from the north--Lily and Bert's direction. The breeze dried the sweat droplets on Scott's forehead, and the air's coolness soothed Scott's skin like baby oil.
Perhaps, Scott concluded, he could ask Lily and Bert what they wanted from him.
III
Scott buzzed up the flight of stairs. He knocked on the wooden panel door, paced like a lion in a cage, and took a deep breath. Someone had managed to push up the glass window at the top of the previous landing. This allowed the late spring breeze to cool the humid interior of the building.
The door of hickory thudded back.
Scott turned.
Lily grinned readily--and showed her white incisors of china.
Scott stuttered some Is.
Lily spoke in a reedy voice. "Calm down," she said. "I won't go away."
Scott had not even phoned Lily for fear of Bert's seeing him on the phone screen. Yet, from Lily's behavior, Scott felt as if she and himself had engaged in the most intimate of conversations--prior to Scott's arrival. That emotion made Scott very uneasy.
Scott said, "I wanted to talk to you and Bert."
"Come in," Lily lipped.
Scott wavered, then stepped onto the wooden slats of the apartment.
The polished boards of the floor glistened under the sunbeams coming from the left. The low ceiling slanted as though part of a gambrel roof. A scent of wood shavings, in turn, permeated the environs.
Scott rotated toward Lily. "Where's Bert?"
"He's not here," Lily said. Behind her, she shut the door of deep brown.
"I better go."
"Wait!" Lily implored, seizing Scott's forearm.
Lily's palm felt like the sole of a baby's foot, except that it was larger.
Scott's heart raced like a rolling drum.
Gentle as the frills on her white blouse, Lily tugged Scott toward the futon of an oakwood loveseat. Suddenly, she threw him onto the skin-of-zebra print.
"What the hell?" Scott said.
Lily straddled Scott's blue jeans, which were washed in extra-hot water.
My jeans might as well be a saddle! Scott said to himself.
Lily wrapped her arms around Scott.
Scott tried to get up from the skin-of-zebra futon. All of his energy, however, had rushed to his hard-on.
Lily inched her thin lips of honey closer to Scott's lips.
Scott let his parted mouth drink from Lily's exhales. At one point, Scott actually felt Lily's breath descend his windpipe and stoke the pent-up urges at the bottom of his chest.
Scott could barely speak. "Aren't you happy with Bert?"
Lightly, Lily blew beneath Scott's heart-shaped hairline. "Of course."
"Then, why are you chasin' after me?" Scott said.
Lily straightened her upper body. "You certainly are more urbane than you look." She dismounted Scott's legs, sauntered away, and twirled toward Scott. "Bert and I like you, and we would like to include you in our relationship."
Scott arched his khaki eyebrows. "Come again?"
"Lots of couples are becoming threesomes," Lily said matter-of-factly.
Scott puffed a laugh.
"I'm serious," Lily said.
"I thought that bisexuality was a woman thing."
"That's what the straight world wants you to think," Lily said. "But the post-2017 era will be for men what the post-1960 era was for women."
"Huh?"
"More men calling themselves bi," Lily said. "Haven't you noticed the rise in bi-identified people, especially since 2017?"
"I've heard about it on TV," Scott mumbled.
"That increase shows that more people are willing to share their partners with cherished others."
"Why are you tellin' me this?" Scott said. "I'm straight."
"So? Many straight people get into polyamorous relationships."
"Poly what?" Scott said.
"But while you're at it," Lily interrupted, "it wouldn't be such a bad idea if you explored the homosexual side of your bisexuality."
The b word seemed to melt entrenched attitudes, old arousal patters, and defenses that Scott didn't even know he had. Scott fought the strange sensations stirring in him, but to his shock, part of him didn't want to.
"You'll still be as heteroromantic as 70% of the population," Lily said. "But in the purely sexual sense, you'll be as bi as 80% of the population is in potential."
Where, Scott wondered, did Lily learn all those technical terms?
Lily proceeded, "Males are more bisexual than females because men can easily divorce sex from romance. Less emotional complications for men, so more bi sex for them."
Something about those words plucked a string inside Scott.
"Guys, of course, love their girls romantically, and their girls want them to," Lily said. "It's just that guys can be sexual with each other without being in love. I want you and me, however, to be close and to start dating."
The hickory door thumped open.
Scott jolted like a startled caribou.
"There's my confrere," Bert said, "and here's my buttercup." The blond knitted his painter lips and drew nearer to Lily's ballerina lips.
Lily pressed her thin lips against Bert's thicker ones and cooed under her breath.
Scott's cock started to re-harden like a fritter being made in someone's hand.
Scott rose to his cowboy boots, hoping to nip his woody in the bud. Instead, Scott noticed that Bert was also sporting cowboy boots of light brown. The discovery made Scott feel at one with Bert. This made Scott more jittery, particularly since Lily was not wearing boots to counterbalance his "connection" to Bert.
"Scotty, buddy!"
Scott jerked up his baby blues toward Bert.
"What have you been doing up here?" Bert continued.
Perhaps, Scott thought, Bert hadn't been serious about lending his girlfriend to him. From Bert's just-got-up sound of voice, Scott inferred that Bert must have been jesting when he brought up the subject at the bar-restaurant. "I ... ," Scott began, wracking his brain for a way out of this situation. "I came to talk to you both."
"About what?" Bert guggled.
"Scott came to consider our offer," Lily said.
Butterflies flew inside Scott's stomach.
Bert sounded amused. "What's his answer?"
"He's not sure," Lily replied. "But I think I can get Scott to come around--that is, if we adjust the thermostat to a warm setting."
"What do you mean?" Bert said.
Lily turned her oval face toward Scott and started to unbutton her white blouse.
"Don't do this," Scott said in a low tone.
The white linen gave way to pink flesh, to a trace of muscles, and to moist skin.
Bert woofed.
"I'm not in the best frame of mind for this," Scott said.
Lily's pearl-white bra, however, pulled Scott's eyes forward like a U-magnet a set of pins.
Lily reached behind and unfastened her lace brassier.
Quicker than hail, Bert snatched Lily's hands. Bert re-fastened the bra strap and brought down Lily's small hands. "You mentioned adjusting the thermostat to a warm setting," Bert said. "This is pushing the switch to overheat."
Lily pouted her peach-red lips at Bert. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just can't wait to get romantically and physically intimate with him."
Scott almost came--and his peter wasn't even at full mast. "Why are you doin' this to me?"
"Because somewhere deep down, you want me to," Lily said.
"I don't wanna steal the girlfriend of the lead singer of my band!" Scott protested. "You think I wanna alienate myself like that?"
"Bert doesn't mind sharing me with you," Lily said.
"And why is that?" Scott spat, flogging his eyes toward Bert.
With the calmness of a cumulus cloud, Bert panned his gray irises from Lily to Scott. "Have a seat, pal."
"I'm not sittin'," Scott barked.
"Then, we'll take a load off our feet," Bert said. He led Lily by one of her hands of butter.
Scott crossed his strong arms.
The futon with the skin-of-zebra print twanged to the weight of the couple. Then, a whiff of air swept a faint odor of hay into the living room.
"Listen carefully," Bert said. "I know the world we come from--a world of distrust, competition, scarcity, and unfulfilled desires. Like you, I grew up in that world, indoctrinated to be straight. Everything reinforced that leitmotif--my family, my peers, my teachers, television. Then, I discovered an amazing world, a subculture where guys and girls can be themselves in a fun, healthy, respectful, and responsible manner. A world where the rules are humane and life-affirming."
"Spare me the public service announcement," Scott drawled.
"I know what you're going through," Bert intoned. "I was as nervous as you when I learned about alternative ways of being."
Scott started to pace back and forth.
"Even now, part of me is scared about releasing Lily to your arms," Bert said. "After all, I've never shared Lily before."
Scott stopped abruptly.
"When I was a college sophomore, however, a buddy of mine shared his woman with me," Bert said. "I must tell you. It was the most transcending experience I have ever had."
"Monogamy is the norm," Scott rumbled. "One man. One woman. It's simple, and one doesn't run the risk of hurtin' anyone."
"That's why bi men are selective about whom they share their ladies with--and vice-versa for bi women," Bert said. "Like everything else in life, there is the potential for hurt. But the potential for enjoyment is just as great. Does the average person abandon pleasurable activities because of their potential danger?"
Scott shook an uneasy no.
"Then, why should we make sexual and romantic relationships an exception?"
Stillness fell onto the room like foam after a breaking wave.
Scott broke the quiet like walnuts crashing onto a sidewalk. "You don't love Lily, do you?"
"It is because I love Lily that I respect her freedom to be with you," Bert replied.
"What do you get out of this?" Scott said.
"Pleasure from knowing that Lily's enjoying herself," Bert answered.
Bert's casualness rocked Scott's psyche like an earthquake a pillar of marble. Scott snapped, "Why can't Lily enjoy herself with you?"
"She does," Bert said. "But one person can't be everything to another person--just like a lead singer can't be everything that a band requires."
Never had an argument persuaded Scott so much. Still, Scott insisted on putting up a front. "I don't buy it. You must want somethin' in order to loan me your girl. I wanna know what the hell it is!"
"Nothing," Bert said.
The suaveness of Bert's otherwise rugged voice astonished Scott. "You're not pushin' your queer crap on me, if that's what you're thinkin' about."
"What would make you say that?" Bert said.
Such innocence in Bert's voice solidified Scott's suspicions about the blond. Scott swore that steam had bunched in his ears, and the sensation reminded Scott of losing his temper repeatedly back home. That was the very reason he left Idaho--to get away from his old self.
Scott softened his tone. "Felix told me how you bis service each other as payment."
"We go easy on straight men," Bert said.
If only Scott weren't so horny. If only he had hooked up with a chick since his arrival in Alberta. Then, Scott thought, he wouldn't be in this predicament. His short fuse would have lengthened, and he wouldn't be risking the making of new enemies.
Scott didn't want to draw Bert's wide-apart eyes. Thus, Scott threw Lily's close-set eyes a mere glint.
Lily looked at Scott with a blank face of desire.
If Scott declined, his hormones would continue to pester him like bees circling one's ears. Of that, Scott was certain--and of the effects that the pressure below would have on his disposition. But if Scott accepted, he might lose his newfound friends. "You ain't watchin' me, got that?"
"Absolutely," Bert said. He rose to his cowboy boots of light brown, sashayed toward the ajar door of wood, and pulled it open. "I'll be at the bar-restaurant with Felix and Ivan." Bert flapped into place his beige jacket of leather. "Enjoy yourselves, eh?"
The polished slats of the bamboo floor squeaked to Bert's exit; the hickory door clicked shut; and silence fell onto the living room like a quilt onto a miniature bed.
Lily gazed down.
If Scott didn't know better, he would have thought that Lily had finished sexual intercourse with him and was feeling guilty about it. Something about her toned-down presence ignited the fire in him, however.
Scott inched toward Lily and took her lovely chin.
Lily's breathing changed to heaving.
Scott's heaving became panting.
Not since college had Scott seen an angel of this caliber. Part of him reveled at disrespecting Bert's relationship with Lily, for Scott wanted to provoke Bert into doing something to him as payback. Admitting this wasn't easy. But being this close to Lily popped open the bottle where the genie of male competitiveness resided. Moreover, Lily's scent of jasmine, the aura of warmth around her, and her quivering orbs of liquid made denial of Scott's feelings toward her no longer possible. Whatever lay ahead, Scott knew that sex with Lily would be radically different from all of his previous sexual encounters.
IV
Scott plucked the strings of his bass guitar. An awkward note here; a promising note there.
Not bad! Scott thought.
Scott hammered the notes on his fretboard. With his pick, Scott trilled the notes from the other end of his guitar.
The electric sounds reverberated through the warehouse as if coming from the blades of a turbofan engine.
Scott kept ringing the notes in rapid succession.
Felix and Ivan exchanged puzzled frowns.
Never had Scott felt such exuberance, and never had he played like this. The notes themselves seemed to lift the dust off the boxes and metal cabinets as the sounds rushed through the sun rays.
The steel door whacked open, and Bert mozied onto the water-colored floor of cement.
Scott unwrapped his guitar strap from his back; he placed his mahogany guitar on the black stand; and he bopped toward the entrance. Scott spoke with juvenescent restlessness. "Before we start practice, I gotta tell you. Fuckin' Lily was the best fuck I've ever had."
"You haven't experienced anything, yet," Bert said. "Wait till Lily teaches you some of her favorite positions."
"Could you let me in on the lowdown?" Scott said breathlessly.
A grin danced across Bert's somewhat diamond face. "Some of those configurations are pretty wild."
Bert zigged his graceful hand through his stringy hair of bronze. In the sunshine, his fingers of light cream looked as if coated in semen.
Scott's heart started to beat with incitement. At the same time, Scott felt trepidation. After all, he wasn't used to seeing the contrast between a young man and film on the skin of his skin. Delicate went with ladies--not with dudes.
Bert's guitar case, however, pointed at Scott like an erection.
Compared to that, my equipment is nothin'! Scott railed in his head. And Scott's endowment was considerable. My competition can't be that humongous, Scott thought in watered-down echoes. Not in bed! Was Bert whole like Scott? Or was Bert circumcised? If Bert was like 60% of males born after 1990, then Bert must be uncut, Scott concluded. Fear turned to fright inside Scott, as not since high school had he wondered about another guy's cock.
"Are you lovebirds going to stand there all day?" Felix hollered. "We have tunes to iron out."
Scott twisted his neck back. Lovebirds? his baby blues slung at Felix.
Onstage, Felix brought his palms to rest on his waist.
Scott turned his squarish face back front. The rager of Bert's black guitar case? Bert's beating around the bush before practice? It was like Scott was slowly being sucked into the axis of a whirling stream. The water was clear as the blue sky that afternoon, to be sure. But the gyration worried Scott nonetheless.
Scott said, "I gotta know what Lily has in mind."
"I think you better hear it from the deer's mouth," Bert replied. He tried to move forward.
Scott's slender body stood in the way.
Somehow, this brought Scott a tinge of guilt. Scott stepped aside and said, "Even if you won't tell me what's up Lily's sleeve, I gotta thank you for loanin' her to me. I'm in your debt."
"Good," Bert said. "Come to our flat. 4 o'clock."
V
The furniture was to the attic apartment what hinges, legs, and the mattress are to a sofa bed--things ready to be stored away at the first sign of need. So well-contained was the loft.
Straight ahead from the entrance, Bert knocked on a wooden door. He pushed it further in and leaned out his head past the arched doorway. "He's here."
Lily murmured something from behind the panel door.
Why, Scott pondered, was Bert sticking around? Was this Lily's plan? If so, why? The answers were too unsettling to imagine. Still, Bert had extended Scott a major favor, something that 70% of males would never have done due to being straight. Furthermore, Lily had allowed Scott to empty his balls inside her. At the very least, Scott concluded, he should not complain.
Bert strolled into the bedroom and motioned for Scott to follow him.
Scott's heart raced as if an eggbeater whipping milk to butter. Every sensation magnified tenfold--the sound of the bamboo boards creaking under Scott's black cowboy boots, the scent of the daisies, lilacs, and orchids in the corner vase, the feel of the lukewarm breeze blowing in through the dormer window, and the sight of Lily wearing nothing but lingerie.
"Isn't she something?" Bert said excitedly.
Scott pretended to assess Lily as objectively as possible.
Never had a babe worn panties of liquid silk. Never had a lace brassiere glittered with such seductiveness. Never had lingerie looked so pearly-white.
Scott halted with a mild jolt. He skimmed over the queen-size bed.
Its cinnamon bedsheets of charmeuse melted something in the young man.
Scott rotated the rest of his body left so that it aligned with his turned head.
The square of sunlight faced Scott headlong, as well as the beauty sitting before it on the bed.
"What are you studs doing by the door?" Lily tinkled. "Take off your clothes and keep me company."
Scott hesitated.
Bert, however, unbuttoned his tangerine shirt of seersucker. He flapped it back.
The tangerine shirt sounded like a blanket.
Bert smiled at the knolls of muscle he had revealed. Bert's abs even put the iris diaphragm of a starship hatch in relief.
No wonder Bert was so at ease about sharing Lily, Scott thought.
Bert slipped off the long sleeves of his tangerine shirt.
Scott's dick twanged like the plumules of a peacock. Reluctantly, Scott pulled off that cotton tank top of his, the azure one with the Idaho logo in white letters. Then, Scott lifted his chest to highlight his pecs and the cross of trenches upon which the two hills sat.
Lily uhed at Scott with the softness of nose tissue sprinkled with baby powder.
The thinness of Lily's voice led Bert to pull off his russet cowboy boots and white socks of nylon.
Scott duplicated Bert's movements with his black cowboy boots and white socks of cotton.
The sound of falling hammers over, Bert crossed the room as if about to ask Lily to dance with him. Instead, Bert plunked on the bed and kissed Lily's shapely shoulder. Toward Scott, Bert lifted his broad forehead of cream. "Aren't you going to help me? I don't think I can handle this doll alone."
Scott ankled across the sea of bamboo boards. Disinclined, he sank on the right side of the queen-size bed.
Lily's hair smelled of strawberry shampoo.
Scott reached for the drawn harp strings.
Bert beat him to the punch. Slow as a turtle savoring a meal, Bert undid the auburn bun on Lily's crown and fixed her lank hair so that it hung down her back.
Lily unhooked her bra of crisp white and let it fall.
No chick had knockers of such plumpness, Scott confirmed to himself. For once, he didn't care that Bert was present. Scott touched the casaba closest to him.
Its skin tingled Scott's fingers.
Scott kneaded Lily's tit as though it were pizza dough. Then, he swooped upon Lily's boob.
Bert descended upon Lily's other breast.
Scott didn't like where this was leading, but his hunger for Lily was stronger than his apprehension about Bert.
A pattern quickly established itself. If Scott ravenously sucked Lily's left nipple, then Bert gently licked her right one. If Scott oinked, then Bert cheeped. For whatever reason, Bert was playing it low-key.
Lily, however, brought the tepid hands of the young men to her crotch.
That did it for Scott and Bert.
Scott rharred.
Bert grunted.
Lily pushed down her pearl-white panties.
And Scott brayed in astoundment.
Never had Scott expected to see a V of bush on Lily. After all, she hadn't shaved on the afternoon that Lily and Scott slept together. Turned on, Scott dabbed his forefinger on Lily's shaved pubes. Scott glimpsed the V of cinnamon bedsheets between Lily's legs.
Aroused, Bert unbuttoned his black jeans.
Scott unzipped his pale blue jeans.
Lily parted her crisp legs wider.
And Bert and Scott glided down the logs of flesh.
So satiny were Lily's legs that they shimmered as if an extension of the cinnamon bedsheets of charmeuse.
Scott peppered Lily's shins with kisses.
"Go for it!" Bert croaked.
Scott's lips skipped up Lily's legs like feet hopping from rock to rock over a stream. At once, Scott licked the reddish folds of Lily's vulva.
Bert urged Scott on.
Scott poked his tongue into Lily's cleft.
Its taste of salted watermelon tickled Scott's nostrils, and their narrowness seemed to intensify the aroma.
Scott trailed his tongue from south to north. "Aaah!" he uttered as if to a tongue depressor.
Bert nuzzled Lily's washboard belly.
Lily burbled in reverie.
Jittery like a ferret, Scott gyrated his head on Lily's cooch.
Higher up the mountain, Bert slurped as though sipping soup and peas. He descended the cliff, head-tapped Scott's head aside, and dove into Lily's doughnut.
Scott hiked up. On Lily's curved neck, he planted a sensuous kiss.
Lily leaned her pink neck back, and her thin hair of auburn fell like a cascade.
Scott slithered up Lily's cuddly neck and sucked the sugar out of her lips.
Lily sucked back.
Swiftly, Lily pulled away.
She's toyin' with me, Scott thought. He inched his lips forward.
Lily inched hers back.
What the hell! Scott said to himself.
"Looks like you're ready," Lily lullabied.
"What?" Scott said incredulously.
"Judging from the blush on your face."
"Tell me about it," Scott panted. "Are you finished down there?"
Bert kept sucking Lily's slit.
Lily, however, pulled up Bert by the golden locks of his hair. "Yes, he is done," she said. "But not for what you're thinking. At least, not yet."
"Come again?" Scott said.
"As our guest, you are free to shag me first," Lily said.
Scott clapped once and rubbed his palms as if the attic were heated and he were entering it from the cold of winter.
"But first," Lily added, "you must let Bert suck you."
"Whoa!" Scott said, recoiling from Bert.
"It's the least you can do," Lily pressed.
Scott rose from the queen-size bed, padded away, and twirled toward Lily. "I'm not lettin' no guy suck me."
"Any guy," Lily corrected.
"Whatever."
A peal of laughter came from outside the dormer window.
"Bert's sharing me with a straight man is not easy for him," Lily said. "Bi men are more fun to share with."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Scott retorted.
Lily inhaled deeply. "I want Bert to get something, too. Besides, you're getting a lot. Heck, you don't even have to suck Bert. Remember the tree that doesn't bend to the wind?"
Scott scowled in confusion.
"It breaks," Lily said.
Scott peeked left.
Bert closed his eyelids to a gust of wind. It might as well have been warm drops from a showerhead.
Unbelievable! Scott thought. Here was a fellow who took pleasure in everything, even in the midst of an argument.
Bert's jean zipper pointed forward like a tent pole.
Fast as a bowling ball, Scott became conscious of his prick. It was flaccid, yet big; under the car cover of his white briefs of cotton, yet exposed. On tenterhooks didn't even begin to describe how Scott felt. Nonetheless, Bert's hipness eased Scott's tension in an incremental way. That Bert and Scott were the same height--five inches taller than 5' 7" Lily when standing--brought Scott a sense of camaraderie with Bert. It was subtle, yet palpable.
"O.K., Lily," Scott drawled, strangely collected. "You win." Still, his heart pummeled out like a boxing glove.
Bert didn't unzip his black jeans. Rather, he allowed Lily to pull down Scott's pale blue jeans and white briefs.
This helped to put Scott at ease.
Soon, however, Bert knelt below Scott, sat on a hip, and stretched out his legs as if they were the tail of an alligator.
What, Scott wondered, were Bert's legs doing behind Scott? Moreover, Scott flipped at that masculine guy's transforming himself into a mermaid, propped up by his right arm. Maybe it was Bert's shoulder-long hair and his soft muscles. Or perhaps, it was his sea-colored irises.
A ring of smoke, Bert's lips approached Scott's dick.
Scott gulped.
Bert tore into Scott's cock as if starting on a chicken breast.
"Fuckin' nay!" Scott said, jolting back.
Bert tightened his muggy cave.
Scott clawed Bert's fine hair.
Bert savored Scott's hot dog in his mouth. Unexpectedly, Bert slid his wet lips out.
Scott's dick poked something invisible as it broke free.
With his peach tongue, Bert circled Scott's tawny foreskin.
Scott's voice nearly cracked. "Fuckin' A!"
Not only was Scott's penis the size of a cucumber. Its slit was big as the mouth of a goldfish. Never had Scott seen the homosexual side of his bisexuality more loudly announced, and it felt as uncomfortable as getting naked in public.
A drop of diluted glue fell onto Bert's lower lip.
Bert angled up his gray irises of jello.
Scott looked upon Bert like a bully glaring at a floored whimp. "You better swallow that, bi fairy."
Gazing at Scott, Bert licked clean his lower lip. Then, Bert sucked Scott's glans as though it were a pom-pom.
"Unfuckin' believable!" Scott pealed.
Bert was so famished that, with his teeth, he drew out Scott's foreskin. Bert might as well have been sucking out the pulp of a kenepa. Bert's incisors, however, were so gentle that, for a moment, Scott thought that a ballet dancer was working him. Reinforcing Scott's impression was that Bert's incisors were, like Lily's teeth, white as porcelain.
Bert wrapped his fist around the base of Scott's meat and pumped it.
Scott gasped. "If your boyfriend keeps this up, he's gonna churn out my sperm."
Lily's tone suggested feigned naïveté. "Is Bert that good?"
"Are you kiddin' me?" Scott said.
Bert's pumping, licking, and slurping was better than anything girls had done to Scott down there.
How, Scott wondered, was this possible?
Again, Bert sunk his noggin onto Scott's wiener and moved his head to and fro.
"That's it," Scott said. "Smoke my pipe."
Bert sucked Scott's veiny cock with pizzazz--and sounded as though he were guzzling down water from a glass. In the sun rays, Bert's hair took a golden-yellow color. His hair strands quivered in waves--slower, then faster; softer, then harder.
How, Scott thought, could Bert feel no shame about prostrating himself before a male rival? After all, didn't Bert like girls?
Lily began to rub her cunt in circles.
Scott couldn't believe his eyes! Here was a female who actually liked gay stuff. At the same time, Lily's self-pleasuring sprinkled Bert and Scott's foreplay with a straight flavor. This made Scott's homophobia melt like an ice floe on the warm waters of the Mid-Atlantic.
Bert groped one of Scott's nates.
Scott reached behind, but he was too entranced to push Bert's grip down. Instead, Scott's loosened clutch ended up caressing the top of Bert's hand.
Bert kneaded Scott's rump.
Scott groaned in pain and swayed back in pleasure.
"Looks like straight boy is going bi," Lily said.
The words pounded Scott's stomach like a boxer a punching bag.
Lily pestered on. "How does joining the middle team make you feel?"
"Like the word, argh!" Scott said, throwing his head back on argh.
"Bert's going to oil you up good," Lily said, "so you can cream my vagina."
Scott lowered his dimpled chin. "Is that what you're doin'?"
Bert's gray irises of gelatin looked up at Scott, and Bert nodded. Again, Bert scarfed down Scott's frank.
"Man!" Scott said. "Bi boy really likes cock."
"He sure does," Lily said with the utmost satisfaction.
Never had Scott seen a dude stuffed with sausage.
Bert, however, went further than that. He pressed his straight nose against Scott's pubes and snorted the caramel curls.
"You're truly messed up, you know that?" Scott said. He began to thrust into Bert's face hole--in and out, in and out. "Holy Mary, Jesus, and Joseph!" Scott yanked the jute fibers of Bert's hair.
Bert mmmed under his breath.
Scott hoicked Bert's wheat field harder--and experienced a rush of excitement at the power he held over the fag. "I can't believe I'm gonna--"
Bert pulled out fast as a falling stack of cans.
Scott's dick glistened in the sunlight as if covered in latex. Bert's leftover saliva, in turn, cooled over the surface of Scott's dong.
Bert lapped his tongue over Scott's sperm sack.
"Oh, no!" Scott said, half in warning and half in disbelief.
Bert sucked Scott's chestnuts.
"Fuckin' pouf!" Scott bawled. He shucked off his pale blue jeans and white briefs of cotton the rest of the way. Now, Scott was ready to repeat the move with Lily's pearl-white panties of silk.
Bert's nut swallowing, however, kept Scott glued to his spot.
Bert spat out Scott's testes, tugged them down, and with his tongue, flicked the skin of raw chicken.
"You're gonna make me cum!" Scott protested.
Bert kissed Scott's bird eggs and got on his feet.
Never had Scott been so ready to top a chick. He, however, felt too exposed in the rear--not to mention that his sand-colored butt cheeks were chiseled marble under oilskin. Simply put, Scott couldn't be sure that Bert wouldn't goose him.
Scott climbed onto the queen-size bed and lay on his back. "Get on top of me, Lily."
Lily peeled off her whities the rest of the way and hopped onto the saddle of Scott's abs. For a moment, it was just Lily and Scott.
Lily guided Scott's pecker into her birth slit.
Scott couldn't believe it, but Lily's pussy already had a layer of film inside.
Thirstier than dry sands, Lily's almond eyes drank from Scott's oval eyes. Slowly, she began to ride him.
"Holy fuck!" Scott said.
The bed creaked lazily.
Lily sped her jumps.
The bed squeaked faster.
And Scott caressed Lily's breasts.
Lily stopped bumping her vulva onto Scott's birdie.
"What's the matter?" Scott said.
In Lily's cunt, Scott started to sense a cock pushing alongside his.
"This can't be happenin'," Scott said.
The second wiener kept slinking in.
"Relax," Lily whispered. She zagged her dainty fingers through Scott's clipped shags of sandy brown--and went against the front flow of Scott's hair.
Hard as he tried, Scott couldn't stop quaking, for the slipperiness of Bert's penis almost made Scott cum. This was gayer than anything Scott had prepared for.
Bert's banana rubbed Scott's thing in a too-familiar way.
Freaked, Scott pushed Lily back.
Lily, however, resumed her humping.
"Holy Moses!" Scott cried out.
The young men began to thrust in unison. Then, they changed rhythm--with Bert pulling out whenever Scott humped, and Scott withdrawing whenever Bert pistoned in.
The feeling was phantasmagoric, especially the thought of their pre-cum mixing inside the girl's volcano. To Scott's shock, straight sex and gay sex were compatible! Furthermore, Scott could sense Bert's cock contract and relax. Never had Scott been able to experience what another guy was feeling. Never had Scott imagined that he would be this close to another male. The enemy was turning out to be one with Scott--with the same hormones, instincts, and emotions.
Just when Scott thought that he would cum with Bert, the neo-hippie slipped out.
Scott's heart sank.
Lily dismounted Scott's pelvis.
"Are you two tryin' to kill me?" Scott complained.
Lily smiled. "You have a lot to learn, cowboy."
Scott locked his baby blues onto Lily's green irises, as if to say: You have me lost.
"Bert and I are not your typical couple," Lily said. "We don't rush past sensuality, unable to handle it. Rather, we prologue things as long as possible--and we are going to teach you how."
"Prolongue things?" Scott stuttered. "If I wait another second, my gonads are fuckin' gonna explode!"
"Then, allow me to delay things a little," Bert said, now standing.
Scott sat up on the cinnamon bedsheets of charmeuse and frowned at Bert.
"I would let Lily do this to you," Bert said, "but not being the same sex, she may bungle things up. I'm much better at it."
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" Scott said.
"You have to trust me, though," Bert said.
Scott glouted at Lily.
The gal's orbs spoke safety. "Stand next to Bert," Lily lipped.
Hesitantly, Scott rolled left on the bed. He fell on his feet, stumbled toward Bert, and spun toward Lily.
Lily lowered her soft, pink buns onto her soft, pink heels, and the same lightness fell onto the bedroom.
Side-by-side, the guys stood like trophies of bronze. A flock of birds flew past the dormer window, now to Scott's front.
Bert said, "Maybe you can start things."
"Agreed," Lily said in a thready voice. "The idea is to make you cum in a small way."
"Huh?" Scott said.
"That way," Lily fluted, "you can later have the most powerful orgasm of your life."
"I thought only chicks had multiple orgasms," Scott countered.
"Males can, too," Bert said.
Scott turned his attached earlobes right.
Amazingly, the light blond hadn't touched the dark blond.
This calmed the rapids of Scott's blood. He faced back front. "I'm listenin'."
"You must let Bert jerk you off," Lily said, "... and you must get physical with him."
Scott shook his head in disbelief. So this was why Bert had been willing to lend Lily--to get this sort of payback. Scott fidgeted, scratched, and cussed.
"That very discomfort will keep you from cumming," Lily said.
"You'll be too flipped out to," Bert interjected.
"You'll let out some fluid," Lily continued, "just enough to keep you going. Then, you can enjoy my vagina to the fullest."
Scott's skin bubbled with moistness. He turned his shaved face right and testily said, "Are you gonna squirt?"
"No more than you," Bert answered. "Of course, I'll have to concentrate hard on something else."
"You better not pull any funny stuff," Scott rumbled like a steamroller in the distance. "If you do--"
"I would never betray a brother," Bert said, as if he and Scott were part of the fledgling masculinist movement. Bert turned his lean body toward Scott.
Scott turned his wiry body toward Bert ... and gawked inside at the dangle of Bert's cock. So much foreskin--in fact, more than Scott had. At half-mast, Bert's dick was also the size of a frankfurter. More disturbing was that Scott didn't know whether Bert's penis was hardening to Lily's presence, or to Scott's.
Scott turned his smooth face left. "Get on with it!"
Lily rippled, "Whatever Bert does, you must do to him."
Scott's heart punched outward--but Scott straightened his head toward Bert.
Bert's physique was a statue in the sunlight. His flesh, however, smelled of salt and corn.
Bert inched closer to Scott.
Scott's prong grew like yeast in an oven. Not only couldn't Scott digest this all at once. He also couldn't believe that his banana was pointing in the wrong direction.
Bert pressed his brawny pecs against Scott's sinewy ones. It was a set of warm irons on an ironing board.
Scott pressed back.
Bert's willy touched Scott's.
The feeling was electrifying! Instantly, Scott raised his baby blues from below.
Bert's rugged eyes scoped Scott, shifting from one eye to the other.
Never had Scott seen the furry combs of irises so displaced by pupils. This made Scott wonder how dilated his pupils were, a potential giveaway about how excited this queer stuff was making him.
Bert rubbed his cock against Scott's.
Scott rubbed back ... and couldn't believe how masculine he felt.
Bert gyrated his pale hips, moved his lax lips closer to Scott's tense lips, and kissed the straight collegian.
Every cell of Scott's tingled with panic. Most alarming was Bert's peach fuzz, for its prickliness reminded Scott that he was fooling around with the wrong sex. Still, Scott sucked back.
Bert whiffled into Scott's mouth.
Scott moaned in pleasure.
Bert passed his cream fingers through Scott's dirty-blond hair.
Scott reciprocated.
With tremulous hands, the young men explored more of each other's bodies. Their dicks also rubbed harder.
Bert slithered down and sucked one of Scott's hard teats.
Never had Scott imagined that a mound of muscle could substitute for a woman's tit--let alone, so well. The erectness of Scott's nipples contributed to his feeling a tad feminine. Bert's warm lips, however, were ruffling a string that went down to Scott's cannon.
Tiny bubbles started to sizzle inside Scott's balls. "Fuck!"
Around Scott's nape, Bert wrapped one of his model hands. Then, Bert dragged his tongue around the tip of Scott's teat.
Scott stroked Bert's shoulder-long hair.
Bert's licking sounded like water dripping from a faucet onto a sandwich wrapper of plastic.
The sounds tickled the insides of Scott's ears.
Bert's simple eyes ascended to eye level.
Somehow bothered by what had transpired, Scott scowled at Bert.
"Suck my breasts," Bert whispered.
For all that Bert and Scott had done, the words were still too twisted to take in one ear gulp. Hence, Scott turned his face left to make sure that Lily approved of this.
Never had Lily's boobs looked plumper, and never had her pink skin looked more inviting.
Scott returned to the smattering of amber curls on Bert's chest. Scott weighed the contrast between Lily's satin skin and Bert's leather skin, and between Lily's round hips and Bert's flat hips. What stunned Scott was that he found tantalizing the idea of exploring Bert's body. It wasn't just the sweet torture of not doing Lily. It was also the novelty of exploring Bert. The queer genie was definitely out of the bottle.
"My pecs won't bite," Bert said.
On the pec to his right, Scott landed the rolled onions of his fingers. Timorously, Scott kneaded the hard pec.
Bert's dick moved past Scott's as it re-hardened with the slowness of a cherry blossom.
With his tongue, Scott flicked Bert's areola.
"That's my buddy," Bert said. He caressed Scott's front-combed hair.
Bert's nipple was so engorged that, for a moment, Scott thought it was a woman's.
A bit overwhelmed, Scott pulled up like a biplane that had been hit by enemy fire.
"That wasn't so bad," Bert said. "Was it?"
"I guess not," Scott answered. Never had he looked so deeply into a guy's eyes, and never had he permitted a guy to look so deeply into his.
"Let me show you something," Bert said, as if he and Scott were teenagers exploring sex. Bert slid and held back Scott's foreskin, pressed their cock heads together, and rolled his prepuce over Scott's head. Then, Bert rolled Scott's foreskin over his. "This is called double-docking."
"This is too kinky," Scott drawled. But he allowed Bert to masturbate their frenulums in circles.
Bert said, "Tell me when you're close."
"Uh-huh," Scott aired.
Lily crooned in the background.
Scott didn't care. Right now, it was just Bert and him, exploring maleness in the sexiest of ways. This was more than mere foreplay. How could hormones have led Scott so far away from heterosexuality? Scott wondered.
Bert circled his cream fingers under their frenulums.
"I'm close," Scott whiffed.
Bert tapped the underside of Scott's overgrown thumb.
Scott came in dribbles.
Bert oozed pre-cum into Scott's piss slit.
The sensation was scrumptious--and way too intoxicating for any dude, straight or queer!
Bert undocked their sticks.
Scott almost collapsed onto the wooden floor ... but managed to say, "You fuck her first."
"But you're our guest," Bert replied.
"Nah," Scott insisted. "I've fucked your lady more than you in the past week. It's only fair that you go before me."
"If that's how you want it," Bert said glibly.
Lily scooted toward the center of the cinnamon bedsheets and lay on her back.
Bert climbed on top of Lily. He sank his woody into her cleft, began to hump her, and stopped. Bert turned back his broad forehead of cream.
"What," Scott uttered.
"Please don't take this the wrong way," Bert said. "But would you consider ... um ... how should I put it?"
Another gust of wind rumbled through the garret.
"Tell me," Scott said impatiently.
"Would you fuck me?"
Had Scott been in a boxing match, he would have dropped to the floor at this point.
"I fuck girls better when there's a cock up my butt," Bert said.
Scott skimmed Bert's rumps of light cream.
Along the surface, Bert's nates looked soft as the skin of mangos. Yet, the core of each buttock was firm as hard plastic.
Not bad for a dude, Scott thought. Moreover, the idea of putting Bert in his place appealed to Scott more than he would have dared to admit in another setting.
Scott mustered as macho a voice as he could. "I think I'm willin' to try this."
Bert reached into a wooden night table, pulled out an elongated jar of blue, and unscrewed its white cap. Bert squeezed a silver gel onto his palm and rubbed his digits wet.
"What's that?" Scott said.
"It is a microbicide to protect you from his germs," Lily said. "It also makes the backdoor delivery smoother."
Into the forbidden zone, Bert pushed the rake of his slippery fingers.
Scott felt his eyes gloat.
Bert reached for some nose tissue; he wiped his hands clean; and he brought the elongated bottle of blue over his right shoulder.
Scott took the plastic thing. "You sure about this?"
"My ass is yours whenever you're ready," Bert said, sounding as though he had just woken up.
Hard as he tried not to, Scott couldn't help but feel like he was screwing Bert not once, but twice. After all, Scott had already slept with Lily. How could Bert not be angry?
"What's keeping you back there?" Bert said.
Scott squeezed the blue bottle.
The silver jelly flopped onto Scott's hard-on.
Scott smeared the lube over the peach-hued skin of his member. He knelt between the ^ of Bert's legs. Scott dropped the blue bottle as though it were a straw. He laid a hand on one of Bert's sliced-in-half cantaloupes. And Scott fed his boner into Bert's butt crack.
Bert let out the air in his mouth. This sounded like a blood pressure cuff depressurizing.
Scott pressed his wiener further in.
Bert's tunnel resisted like a fist to intruding fingers.
This is freakin' vulgar! Scott told himself. Half of him feared the prospect of stool bits seeping into his dick slit. Half of him got off on fucking a guy despite nature's limits. "Cornholin'," as his friends called it back in Idaho, worried Scott at one level, for it was growing in popularity. Scott knew that, in general, gals would not fall for it. This meant that horny guys would have to bend over for each other. Bi dudes, of course, had no problem with that. But straight men might have a problem returning the favor. Already, Scott could imagine a rise in conflict between a shrinking straight population and an increasing bi male populace. Hopefully, Scott concluded, micro-whatever-they-were-called would lessen the hazards of a sexuality that, although nature permitted, it didn't encourage.
Scott's sexy face hovered above Bert's back.
Bert's back muscles were the foothills of the Idaho Rockies, sprinkled with snow.
Scott nestled his sharp nose against Bert's flesh. "Let me know if I'm hurtin' you below."
"You're doing great," Bert replied. He pushed forward.
Lily purred.
Bert went on, "No better way to experience one's masculinity."
"Endurin' torture?" Scott said.
"That's how straight guys see it," Bert said. "Bi guys, however, know how to open up their behinds, so this is enjoyable for us."
"Then, take my snake," Scott grizzled. He drove it to the hilt.
"Not so hard, though!" Bert said. "Start gentle, like the other bi dudes."
Scott withdrew. Slowly, he pried Bert open.
Bert squinnied as if to a hot charcoal on his back, and he tilted his head toward the ridgepole and rafters of wood.
Scott pulled out and swung in.
"Yah!" Bert said as though taking a dump.
Scott began the dick-in-cooch rhythm.
Bert's hind chute, however, strained like the fuselage of an airliner encountering turbulence.
Clearly, Scott was barking up a different tree. No matter how fast he tried to pump, Bert's tube slowed him down. How Scott wanted to get rough down under.
Bert turned right the narrow nose bridge of his nose. "Is that the best you can do?"
"I thought you didn't want it rough," Scott drawled.
"I'm loosened up now," Bert answered.
"So you want straight cock?" Scott said.
"I need it, bro!"
"You got it, prima donna!" With that, Scott began to hump Bert's ass hard.
Back front, Bert turned his straight nose, and he started to bang Lily's pouch.
Scott slapped Bert's cream duff for breaking his momentum.
"Yes!" Bert said. "Give it to me!"
Scott cuffed Bert's other cheek.
"Hee-ha!" Bert hollered. He leaned forward, licked one of Lily's hard nipples in circles, and groped her other tit.
Scott felt a tinge of jealousy. Slap on Bert's right butt!
"Aahhh!" Bert wailed.
Slap on Bert's left rump!
"Uuhhh!" Bert cried.
"That's what you get for leadin' me away from pussy," Scott said.
In circles, Bert moved his soft hips of cream.
Such defiance! Scott thought.
Scott's penis was a motorcycle slushing through mud in an l. Bert's tush dance, however, was carving fresh paths for Scott's dick. To be sure, Scott facilitated things with his pistoning. But the new trail ended up shaped like an &.
Scott's heart pounded the wall of his chest like a fist bread dough. He was getting in way too deep in someone's bowels--let alone, a guy's. This scared the bejesus out of Scott!
Bert withdrew his hot dog from Lily's treasure cave.
In unison, Scott plunged his wiener into Bert's waste hole.
Bert oinked.
Scott grunted.
And the three sped their shagging.
The bed squeaked like the hinges of an un-oiled door. The squishing of cocks sounded like feet jogging through a puddle. And Bert and Scott's bodies undulated like streamers in the wind.
Scott couldn't believe the perfection of Bert out, Scott in. For a while, nothing broke their coordination. Who of his friends back home would believe any of this? Scott wondered.
Bert turned his handsome face back and gave Scott a tipsy look. "Fuck my ass!"
"Yeah?" Scott said. Behind, he grabbed Bert's ankles, raised them, and wrapped Bert's soles around him. "See if you can take this!" Scott said, ramming his cock on this.
"Ouch!" Bert blubbered.
"That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
The undersides of Bert's feet were the hue of a batter of regular pancakes, tinged red near Bert's toes, on the balls of Bert's feet, and at the edges. The texture of Bert's soles, in turn, was that of a ripe orange.
Scott pressed his thumbs against Bert's soles and massaged the jouncing platforms.
Bert's eyelashes fluttered like peacock feathers on the tip of folding hand fans.
"Look at him!" Scott said. "He's in a trance!"
In truth, however, Scott was losing himself too. Not only did Bert's soles look yummy enough to eat. Their warmth was pressing against Scott's hamstrings. Not only that. The contrast between Bert's supple soles and Scott's smidgen of leg hairs made Scott feel like he was holding a woman's feet. Heteroromantic that Scott was, he felt like fucking Bert harder.
"Let me help you cum into your girlfriend," Scott said at once. He shifted his fingers where the amber hairlets of Bert's shins met the flawless skin of Bert's ankles. Then, Scott sawed into Bert like there was no tomorrow.
"Alright!" Bert said. "Hit my prostate."
So that was what Bert got out of this. "You truly like dick up your butt, don't you, cowboy?" Scott said.
Bert's uh-huh sounded like car tires hitting asphalt from a dirt road at high speed. It was clear that Bert was close to spewing his lekvar. "If only you knew ... how it feels ... to be sandwiched ... in the middle."
Scott had to admit to being curious about experiencing things from Bert's side. But that very curiosity peeved Scott, for it meant the end of 21 years of upbringing. He had to punish Bert for firing his imagination.
Scott released the shackles of his hands from Bert's ankles and smacked the fruit's nates.
Bert growled.
Slap!
"Easy!" Bert yipped.
"You have one hot ass, Canuck, you know that?" Slap! Slap! Slap!
"Stop!" Bert yowled.
Slap! Slap!
"God!" Bert yelled.
The bed lugged faster ... and faster ... and faster. The chuffing, grunting, and whooping of the three bounced off the ridgepole and rafters. And a stack of papers fell to the wooden slats of the floor.
Lily hoicked Bert's bronze hair down.
Bert kissed Lily brusquely.
Scott sped his thrusts into Bert's tunnel.
And Bert quickened his into Lily's drawstring bag.
Scott heaved, "I can't believe I'm about to--" He came so hard that he thought he pulled his groin.
Bert contracted and relaxed his anal ring.
Scott sprayed into Bert's rectum one ... two ... four ... eight more times!
Bert threw his head back and yawped.
Scott howled.
Bert kept tightening and relaxing his end hole.
Scott squirted ... and squirted ... and squirted.
Lily screamed as if giving birth.
And Scott bucked his hips for the last time.
Like falling dominoes, Bert collapsed onto Lily and Scott onto Bert.
Bert smelled and felt like a corncob in a rotisserie. From the moisture on Scott's skin, Scott was sure that he smelled and felt the same. Something about the rawness of this pleased Scott. Maybe it was because Scott had never had dirty sex. It certainly was inebriating. Heck, Scott even caressed one of Bert's legs.
The scattered hairlets of amber on Bert's leg tickled Scott's fingers. The hair strands reminded Scott of how similar Bert was to him. Guys, Scott concluded, need not feel threatened by other guys in the presence of a lady. Instead, males could share her.
A soothing breeze swept into the room through the dormer window.
Scott closed his heavy eyelids and let the air refresh him.
Bert mmmed in pleasure.
Scott felt the vibration of Bert's back on his left cheek.
Bert said, "What do you think of gay sex?"
Scott felt his left cheek buzz to his answer. "Fuckin' A."
"And double-boning a cunt?"
"Unfuckin' believable," Scott said.
Bert glanced back through the corners of his easy eyes. "Lily can be yours, too--if you like."
"You really want to be my girlfriend, Lily?"
Lily peeked out from under Bert. "Of course," she fluted. "I've never dated American men, and you're a hunk."
"Is she for real?" Scott said.
Bert glinted back again. "Sure, she is. And I happen to agree--about the hunk part."
Scott planted a kiss on the golden locks of hair on Bert's nape. "You're a stud, too," Scott said.
Bert twisted his gorgeous neck further right. "Am I?"
The dudes pressed their youthful lips together.
"Alright," Lily said. "Looks like we're off to a great relationship."