Mike and Martin by Mike Austin
nasstop@yahoo.com
DEAR NIFTY READER;
Thanks for your time reading my story. If you are inclined, I'd love your comments and feedback.
Also, if you have the opportunity, please consider Nifty when you plan a donation. They'll appreciate the support. Donation details are on the Home Page or click on this link for details:
http://donate.nifty.org/
VII.
The party was a dud, too many Show and Doll types for my preference. The hosts were good guys, but the guests left a lot to be desired. Martin announced he was leaving and I did so, soon after. I was tempted to hit the ABS but before arriving, got a cell call from Hank the big dicked topguy from the crew. We'd exchanged cell numbers soon after Martin's project began and he knew why. I was more than interested in taking that big dick and Hank was happy to indulge my craving. He arrived at my place soon after me and we began with a margarita in the kitchen. He wasn't interested in romance, nor was I. After downing the margarita, he shoved me to my knees and ground his crotch in my face, telling me "beg for it faggot, show me that you NEED THIS DICK" and he was right on all points. I begged, rubbed my face in his crotch and when he shoved my back to the lower cabinets and lodged me between the cabinets and his torso, we both knew I was hooked. He face pumped me while still dressed and felt his long dick thud hard down his left leg; balls packed against his right thigh. "You need it rough faggot" Hank engaged? "YESSIR" my reply. With that he drove the toe of his right boot hard down on my crotch, stepping my balls to the floor, with his knee bent against my shoulder. Like rubbing out a cigarette on the floor, Hank ground his boot hard down on my crotch and balls. I was panting for more. I looked up; he spit in my face; "thank you SIR" my sole reply. He began face pumping me again, then stepped back, unsnapped his jeans and told me to "get my dick out faggot" I reached in his crotch and pulled the heavy dickmeat from his left thigh and balls from the right as he ordered "smack your face with my dick faggot and get it hard". I followed his orders promptly. Hank was turned on as was I. He hoisted me from my knees, turned me to face the cabinets and leaned into my back, "drop your jeans faggot". I scrambled to drop my jeans and as usual was commando. "Tug your fuckhole apart and show it" Hank demanded and I yanked my hole apart with eager fingers then arched my back as directed. "Up on the balls of your feet faggot" he further ordered and I stood high arching my back showing off and showing how very much I needed him to use me. With that he walked me to the bedroom, shoved me hard to the floor and told me to stay on my knees until he was ready for me. I watched him eagerly. He stripped scratched and stretched his balls then led me to the head. Standing at the toilet he had me kneel beside him as he began to piss. The piss roar was resounding and his sudden stop in midstream told more. "Get in the shower on your knees faggot" and I did. The piss stream resumed and covered my head, face, upper and kneeling torso until he was drained. He then turned on the shower and hosed me off, turned, tossing me a towel and telling me to dry off and hit the bed.
Hank was hard and throbbing. He flipped me on my back, head off the bed and stepped up to throat fuck me. He gripped my neck firmly with those big rough hands and squeezed his dick while down my throat. His slow steady throatfuck gained speed until he gushed his first wad of the night down my throat. "Up on all 4s now faggot and show your fuckhole again, pull it open and arch that fucking back" Hank demanded. I complied. Keep the show going and he grabbed his cell from his jeans and began videoing my "show". Hank's background direction was simple "show it off faggot for the guys to enjoy". I was tempted to shut the scene down but was caught up in it. I NEEDED THIS FROM HIM. In about 15 minutes, Hank was ready again and had me on all 4s and began his hard pounding fuck. He mounted me, gave me direction about what he liked from a faggot hole and that I'd better deliver. I worked hard to satisfy him as he pounded his long thick dick deep through my rings and strained my walls apart. The 10" beast was thicker in the middle and end than at the base, culminating in a huge golf-ball shaped head that bored holes open. For all the guys who've screwed and face fucked me, Hank must have been the best or near best. Not only one of the biggest dicks, but the power and attitude that accompanied it. He fucked me 5 times that night and skullfucked me 4 times. When we woke Saturday morning, Hank's raging bone was at full staff. He reached behind my neck and drove my face to his crotch and fed me his morning cumload. I fixed breakfast and he gave me a thumbs up as he walked to the front door. "Will call you soon faggot" he announced as he stepped outside. I was engrossed.
As I finished the breakfast clean-up, my cell rang. It was the HVAC contractor Chris. "Hey man what a surprise, this isn't bad news about Martin's project is it" I asked? "No I need a favor man; had a real knock down blow out with the wife and we may be done and I need a place to hang with no strings and don't want my family or close buds to know anything right away, if you can let me crash for a few days and get some things set up" Chris admitted almost quietly. "Bud I'm fine if you are, get your ass over here and if you need to vent or talk, I'm here man" I replied. I quickly policed the guest room and bath, ensured fresh towels, linens, toilet paper, soaps, etc, etc etc was set for my houseguest. The guest room was an add-on at the back side of the house with a separate patio entry, full bath, and had a small galley set-up, under counter refrigerator and a microwave; full wifi set-up and big screen tv with a kingsize bed. It was designed as a family retreat but was never used as one, though many gay couples had visited and enjoyed that little "escape suite". It took Chris about an hour to cross town and arrive with a single suitcase, his laptop and couple boxes of work files that he had at home and not the office. His greying blonde hair, scruff and current stress made him look aged and almost haggard as I welcomed him in and told him to make himself home. "Got any whiskey man" Chris promptly asked? I poured an old fashioned size drink and Chris chugged it down, extended it to me "another please" and I poured the refill. "I won't pry, just know that this place is yours as long as you need it bud" I offered then picked up the boxes and led him out to the guest room. He followed with suitcase and laptop and once inside almost whispered "thanks Mike, I needed an escape pod". "I've had breakfast but can whip up something for you if you need it or not, just call the shot" I exclaimed. Chris shook his head no and sank on the edge of the bed, bewildered. I stowed the boxes and shoved the suitcase alongside them and stepped to the door, "let me know if you need anything" I urged; "don't go man, I need some company" Chris replied. "Maybe you don't need to be alone, but I'm unsure of what you need, an ear to listen, a hug, a nap, I'm stunned" I responded. He lifted his arms in mock confusion and I sat beside him in silence.
An hour later we had talked briefly about the endgame, their fight, but Chris hadn't relayed what fired up his wife, to begin with. He just kept repeating, "our marriage is over, it's over. I'll lose everything, my business, my friends, family, everyone". Gripping his shoulder I assured him that things may look pretty bleak at present but to rest; and that it will not be as bad after a night's rest. I stood to leave and give him a chance to regroup. He pulled at my hand, then my arm and tugged me back beside him. "She found out about Rico and me" Chris uttered. I had no clue who or what Rico was or meant. "She found out I had him in an apt in Martin's complex and she went ballistic" Chris added; "it started with him (Rico) needing work, then a place to stay and before long, we were having sex, then connecting regularly and somehow the apt. complex called my office, they gave the caller my home number and well, it spiraled out of the fucking Universe; with my wife calling the party in the apt, my whore". He began crying, then "I just need to end all this, I can't go on this way". I sensed a real crises and tried again to calm him down and this time he responded, then hugged me. We rolled on the bed a bit and I assured him sex was the last thing he needed to engage right now and he snapped to it and agreed. He seemed to slow down and be more calm then asked; "how do you guys do it 24x7 and doesn't this lifestyle screw with your heads"? Maybe not having a wife or partner gives you more resilience he questioned aloud, a rhetorical question? He added "Maybe this is just not right for me"? I crossed to the pantry and found a small bottle of leftover whiskey, that yielded about 4 oz, poured it and handed the glass to Chris. He swigged it in one gulp then lay back on the bed and announced, "maybe rest IS what I need; thanks bud" rolled on his side and I left for the main house, hoping Chris could get some rest. Before leaving, I'd turned off his cell to give him some privacy.
Back in the kitchen, I phoned Martin and discussed the situation. Martin relayed the Rico situation and that he'd helped Chris find a place, a one room studio actually, in his apt complex and had even signed as a reference for Chris and Rico. And yes, he knew they were fucking, and I had joined in too. I was stunned that he'd not shared the info with me and let him know it. I spit out, "well Chris' wife knows now and has fucking thrown the man out and threatened him with losing everything". Martin replied that he was sorry that all this had happened but he told Chris that he needed to choose sides of life and stick to it. Again, I was stunned at Martin's cavalier viewpoint and abruptly hung up. I made a cup of coffee and sat at my desk, staring at the blank Word document screen, needing to write a memo or letter or make some sort of journal entry, but was frozen with inaction and an inability to write a single comment. I hurt for Chris and while Martin may have been correct, in these times of personal stress, friends must step up to help and not be insensitive. I went back to check on Chris, and found him sound asleep.