Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. It contains graphic descriptions of sex between and among young adult men, and anyone who finds this subject matter objectionable, or who is not of legal age in his or her political jurisdiction to read such material, must leave immediately. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the amusement and entertainment or readers. It may not be posted or reprinted in any other medium without the written consent of its author. Comments are always welcome.
My Adventures with Nick, Part Five
I woke up first the next morning. We had gone to sleep fairly early by my standards, but what woke me was the chill in the air. The window was open, and Nick had kicked most of the cover off me. He was completely undraped. My cock was out of his butt, of course, and we no longer provided the warmth to each other we had given the night before. I checked my watch, and it was 7:30.
I looked carefully at Nick's gorgeous body. In its completely relaxed state, it was the picture of symmetry and perfection. His face looked like it belonged to a little boy whose innocence radiated from him like a golden glow. Even relaxed his pecs and abs were well defined, and his cock, now in its smallest state, more than doubled mine in size. I wanted badly to touch him, to arouse him. But I didn't. Instead, I carefully got out of bed, went downstairs, and made a pot of coffee. I knew Nick would want some as soon as he woke up, and it seemed like such a little thing I could do for him.
As I sat naked at the table in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew, I thought about my questions about my sexuality. I hadn't been happy, really, since Michael graduated last June. We had seen each other during the summer, of course, but we both had jobs and our time together was limited. He met new people where he worked, and he partied with them a lot. I was a little jealous, but the time we spent with each other had been the same as always. More than once I had felt a kind of tension between us that I now realized was entirely sexual, but nothing ever came of that. Michael was straight, I assumed, and he would suffer no advances from me or any other boy. When he left for Emory, I entered a void. My mom was gone much of the time. I didn't have any other close friends. School work didn't really interest me. I was, in short, very unhappy.
Then came Wednesday and, with it, Nick. I realized that morning that I was happy. Really, truly happy. I had a friend. More than a friend. A buddy. And what a buddy he was. This boy seemed to know everything about sex. What's more, he had a gentleness and sensitivity that were positively heroic. I realized that describing someone as a Greek god is entirely cliche, but that's really the only thing I could think of to say about his looks and his body.
At school Nick blended in well. He asked questions and volunteered answers in class, but it was pretty obvious physics wasn't his first love. He had an ease and grace among the other boys that I had admired from the first, and teachers treated him with the kind of respect they typically reserve for the very best students. He never bragged about sexual conquests the way other boys did, and, while his demeanor suggested experience, his talk suggested virginity and innocence. He was funny, sharp, and kind of "aw shucks," all at the same time. He had smoked since he was twelve, but he didn't join the "butt brigade" between classes or before school. I wonder how many guys at Colton even knew he smoked.
The coffee pot finished its work, and I poured two cups of coffee, one for Nick and one for me. I put cream and sugar in his, the right mixture, I hoped. I decided to go upstairs with the coffee in case he had awakened. If he was still asleep, I'd just sit and take in the splendor of his body.
I had left the bedroom door ajar, so I was able to open it easily with a nudge. When I walked in, Nick spoke: "Good morning."
"Good morning," I replied. "I brought you some coffee. I hope it's the way you like it."
He tasted the hot coffee carefully and pronounced it perfect. He slapped the side of the bed to indicate for me to rejoin him, and I did. He had apparently gotten up to go to the bathroom and had closed the window, so it wasn't as chilly as it had been. He wasn't covered at all, and I didn't cover up either. Nick lit a cigarette and offered me one. "I love to smoke when I drink coffee," he said, "especially first thing in the morning." "Umm," I replied. I didn't usually smoke until after I had eaten something, but that was okay.
"When did you wake up," he asked.
"7:30," I said.
"What time is it now?"
"About ten minutes to eight."
"Oh, so you haven't been up that long." We were both quiet for a few moments. I was wondering whether I should start something or let Nick take the lead.
"What do you want to do today," he asked.
I grinned mischievously.
"I mean besides that, asshole. Would you like to go fishing?"
"Yeah." My answer was rather tentative.
"Have you ever been fishing before," he asked.
"No," I said.
"Well, I'll teach you how to fish. The lake's stocked with trout and bass and brim, and I think there's probably some catfish in it, too. We'll get some sun, catch some fish, and fuck like wild men."
"That sounds good to me," I said. Nick apparently hadn't shaved since. . . when? Wednesday morning? He had a nice, even glaze of light brown stubble that made him look even sexier than he already did. He put his hand to his face to scratch it and said,
"Shit, I forgot to shave yesterday. Let me do it right now." He started to get out of bed.
"Nick, please don't," I said.
"You don't want me to shave?"
"No, I really don't. That stubble makes you look sexy."
He blushed a tiny bit, I think, and was obviously flattered by what I said. I read somewhere one time that sex increases beard growth. They came to that conclusion by comparing the amount of beard sailors shaved off during long cruises to the amount after shore liberty, when, presumably, they had sex. It was always more after liberty.
"You think I look sexy," he asked in all apparent innocence.
"Jesus Christ, Nick, sometimes you say stuff that absolutely floors me. You're serious, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're serious in wanting to know if I think you're sexy."
"Well, yeah, I guess," he said. He was definitely blushing now.
"Nick, my friend, you're the sexiest guy I've ever seen. You exude sex. You give statues hard-ons and make menopausal nuns hot to trot. You stand sexy, you walk sexy, you talk sexy, you smoke sexy, you . . . ."
"Come on. Don't bullshit me."
"I'm not bullshitting you. Don't you notice people looking at you? In the grocery store the other night, everybody who passed you gave you the once-over. You didn't see that? I thought the guy behind us in line was going to stare right through you. And the waitress in The Climatis? You didn't see the way she looked at you?"
"Tell you the truth, I have noticed people looking at me. I thought they found me odd or something. It used to really bother me when I was younger. Every time I took my shirt off, people would really stare at me. Last year my P.E. teacher would 'supervise' the shower room, but only when I was in there. At first that pissed me off, but then I got used to it. You really think people look at me because they think I'm sexy?"
"Fuckin' aye, man. I tell you what, buddy, you've had more sexual experience than most fifty-year-old men, but in some ways you're naive."
"Sean used to say that about me, too. That isn't a compliment, is it?"
"Nick," I said, "of course it's a compliment. That's part of your charm, part of what makes you so fucking sexy. Do you think Sean or I would insult you?"
"I hope not," he said with a vulnerability in his voice that I would never have dreamed could be there.
"Lay back," I said. "I'll show you how I feel about you."
So this was my opening, I thought. I had wondered how things were going to proceed. After disposing of the coffee cups and ashtray, I got down to business. Up until now Nick had controlled all of our sex. He was the experienced one I had wanted, after all, and he had taught me a great deal in a very short time. His teaching, coupled with my fertile imagination, was about to pay off.
"You let me take over, okay," I asked.
"Okay," he said.
I started with his mouth. We kissed long and hard and deep. In a matter of second, both of us were hard. I moved to his neck, licking and sucking at his stubble-covered skin. I tested his left ear, and he responded as I thought he would. I moved to his chest. While I licked and sucked at one nipple, I tweeked the other one with my hand. Then I moved down his chest. The shaved hair of his chest and stomach was beginning to erupt, and I traced it with my tongue and lips. I lingered at his navel a moment or two, and he seemed to like that a lot. From there it was on to paydirt. I started at the base of his cock and made my tongue into a tight point. I moved upward slowly, and I tickled and rubbed the insides of his thighs as I went along. I took the head of his cock into my mouth when I arrived there, but in a second I was back at the base to start all over. After several trips, Nick was moaning with pleasure.
Then I moved to his nuts. I took one into my mouth and gently sucked it. Then I switched to the other one and did the same. After several switches, I moved further down to the spot between sack and hole, and I gave it a thorough licking. His asshole was next. Nick had worked me over very well the night before, and I wanted to reciprocate. I pushed his legs back toward his shoulders, and he moved them into position with the ease of a contortionist. I worked his asshole with my tongue. It opened readily for me, and I stuck as much of it as I could into is hole. I moved my tongue around inside. Once again Nick moaned, and his hips began a gentle thrust.
By now his cock, and my own, were wet and sticky, so I decided to give it a try without the benefit of KY or Vaseoline or anything but our natural juices. I moved up in the bed and inserted my leaking penis into his butt. He took it all. There was none of the tentativeness I had inadvertently demanded the night before. This man wanted me and was ready for me. He sighed deeply as I entered him all the way. He wrapped his arms around my torso, and we began our rhythm of love. Three, four, five times Nick kept me from coming by tightening his muscles. I extracted myself from his grasp to try to bend down to suck his cock, but I lacked the flexibility to do it. He didn't grab hold of me again. Instead, we fucked and fucked and fucked to oblivion. When finally I couldn't hold back any longer, I whispered that I was about to come. Nick grunted, and, as though on cue, he came with me. Our mutual orgasm was complete.
I stayed in him a long time. I thought about starting the thrusting all over again, but I was so drained that it wasn't appealing. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart. When it finally regained its normal beat, I lifted myself and withdrew from him.
I moved up beside Nick at the pillow. Our legs entwined and our cocks touched. We held each other, and his cum on his chest smeared against me.
We stayed like that for a long time, savoring each other and the moments we had shared as one. Finally, Nick broke the silence.
"God, that was good."
I beamed. I had pleased my buddy, and that pleased me.
We disengaged and Nick said he wanted another cigarette. We smoked.
"Brad," he said, "you're definitely getting the hang of this."
"I had a great teacher," I said. Nick blushed slightly and was obviously pleased at my remark.
(Nick didn't shave that morning or any other morning we were at the country place. On Tuesday he showed up at school with a five-day growth of beard, and heads really turned when he walked down the hall. It was a tradition at Colton Academy that second semester seniors who could do so grew facial hair. Nick told me he couldn't risk a beard at the clubs, so he shaved the next day. But his beard on Tuesday let everybody know he could compete with the best of them in the facial-hair department, and it let me know he was announcing to the world, albeit with a symbol only I understood, that he was my buddy.)
I wasn't sure at that point where we were headed next. I wanted Nick to do for me what I had done for him, but I was a little shy about asking. As though he read my mind, Nick made the first move.
He shifted his position to his side, propping his head up with his right hand. With his left hand he started drawing little figures on my chest. He circled my nipples and ran his hand down my torso to my pubic hair. He pulled at it gently, teasingly, and then he took my cock in his palm. I was already well onto a boner, and in a second he had stroked me rock hard. He said, "Make me hard, buddy." I took his cock into my hand and caressed it to full erection. Then Nick got between my legs and went to work on my balls and asshole with his tongue. When my hole was lubricated with his saliva, he used his fingers.
"Your hole is still a little tight, but it's a lot easier for me to get inside than it was the first time we did this. I think you're ready again for my dick." He lifted my legs up and put them over his shoulders. He moved up to me and slowly inserted about three inches of cock into me. I made a conscious effort to relax my ass muscles, and he continued moving in slowly. Nick was making a lot of pre-cum, and that, coupled with the saliva, was all we needed for a clean, smooth entry.
Once Nick was fully in, he kissed me, giving me all of his tongue. Then he moved to my nipples and sucked each one to a state of full erection. He hadn't moved inside me during all of this. When he started fucking me, it was slow and delicious. Each long stroke said "take me, I'm yours." Nick continued at his slow, steady pace, and I matched him thrust for thrust. It was like we were one organism fulfilling itself. I had to squeeze a couple of times to keep from coming, and eventually the urge was too strong to resist. "Nick, it's time," I said. "I know it, buddy," he whispered. "For me, too." We grabbed each other tightly when we came, and we bucked against each other in a perfectly timed rhythm.
Nick didn't pull out of me when he had spent himself. Instead, he did something that I still marvel at. Without backing out so much as an inch, he lifted my right leg over his head, turned me on my right side, and moved up behind me. "I'm not done with you yet, Brad," he said. We hadn't begun to lose our erections, and Nick started pumping again. The new position produced new sensations I hadn't yet felt. He draped his left arm over my thigh and started pumping my cock. This time the movement wasn't slow and deliberate, as it had been last time. This time it was hard and fast. In and out, in and out. I gasped with each thrust, and I had to struggle to keep up with him. When he sensed I was ready to come, he pulled downward on my dick, stretching the sensitive band just under the head. This made me wild, and I bucked with the greatest force I had ever felt from inside me. Once again Nick had managed to give me a unique orgasm that left me breathless.
Nick stayed in me a long time. We didn't talk, and the warmth between us, with him holding me and the two of us pressed together, communicated more emotion than mere words could ever do. Finally, his stomach growled, and that made us laugh. We separated and got up for the day. It was already 9:30, and we were missing the sun.
We had cum all over us, but, as usual, we didn't wash. I was beginning to get used to Nick's ways, and I had to admit I was beginning to like them. Nick suggested we wear shoes, and I quickly agreed. Nick took something out of the back pocket of his jeans. He also grabbed a backpack and his cap, and we went downstairs to begin our day.
In the kitchen we found a box of fresh doughnuts on the counter, and Nick said Bob or Tony must have dropped them by. We each ate five or six and drank another cup of coffee. Nick retreived the envelope he had gotten from his jeans out of the backpack and said, "How many times did you come yesterday?"
"I think it was eleven," I said.
"That's what I think it was, too. So let's say eleven times. Now let's see what we wrote down yesterday morning."
He opened the envelope and took out the two slips of paper. He placed them both on the counter before us. Mine said "six" and his said "ten."
"Well, buddy, it looks like we beat our previous records," he said.
I'm not sure I really believed Nick's "previous record," but I was flattered nevertheless.
"You're some hot little fucker; you know that?" He grinned at me and I smiled. "We won't have to do this again," he said. "I just wanted to see how you compared to Sean. You kicked his ass."
Nick packed some snacks into the backpack. He got about a dozen beers out of the cooler and put them in a plastic ice chest from the pantry, covering them generously with ice from the ice machine. He also got some kind of leather kit from a closet in the kitchen. "This is for cooking fish," he said.
We went outside and into the pavillion to get fishing equipment, which included a small spade to dig worms. The pile of stuff was too big to carry all the way to the lake, so we decided to take Nick's car down to the lake. We loaded all the stuff in the trunk, and we were off.
Morning at the lake was prettier than the afternoon before had been. After we unloaded, we dug worms in the soft loam of the forest and quickly filled a styrofoam cup with a couple of dozen. "This should be more than enough," he said.
Nick showed me how to bait a hook and cast it out into the lake. There was a dock near where we had been yesterday, and we stood on it trying to catch fish. Nick got the first one, a trout, he said, that looked large to me. I got a bite on my line, and Nick talked me through the process of hooking the fish and reeling it in. I was really quite excited by this accomplishment, and I realized the joy of fishing for the first time. We kept this up for some time. A few got away, but pretty soon we had eight nice ones.
We went back onto the shore, and Nick pulled out a rather large, sharp knife from the backpack. He showed me how to cut off the head and how to gut and scale a fish, and he handed me the knife to try it. I can't say it was pleasant work, but I accomplished the task easily enough. Together we cleaned them all and then went down to the lake to clean our hands with a bar of soap Nick had brought for that purpose.
The leather kit contained a portable grill but no fuel. We had to hunt for wood to burn to cook the fish. We gathered what we needed, made the fire, and cooked the fish over the oak coals that soon developed in the grill. The leather kit had four metal plates and four forks. We used those to eat our lunch, washing it all down with our fourth beer of the morning. I had developed a bit of a buzz, and the delicate flesh of the fish didn't do much to take that away. The fish were surprisingly tasty, considering we only had little packets of salt to season them with. We each ate four and pronounced ourselves stuffed. We cleaned up quickly.
The backpack had a small blanket in it, and we spread that out to lie down on. Neither of us was apparently interested in sex, but nap we did. About two o'clock we were awakened by the sound of a pickup truck blaring loud music with a pounding bass. Shit, I thought. We're caught. Nick didn't seem a bit purturbed. "That's just Bob," he said. "Or Tony. Probably Tony, judging from the music."
The truck stopped on the road, and a good looking young guy in his early twenties started walking down toward us. "That's Tony," Nick said, but not loud enough for him to hear. "Tony Clements."
"Hi, guys," Tony said, his face wide with a grin. Here Nick and I were stark naked except for our Nikes and socks, and this guy was fully dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and boots. It would have been stupid to try to cover myself, so I did nothing. Nick stood up to welcome Tony, and I followed Nick's lead.
"Hi, Tony. What's up?" Nick was his usual friendly self.
"Not much, what's up with you?"
"The same. Tony, this is Brad Macmillan. Brad, this is Tony Clements."
Tony and I shook hands. He looked me up and down, lingering on my privates, which were anything but private at that moment.
"So what have y'all been doin'? Fishin'?" Tony had a Mississippi accent.
"Tryin' to," Nick said. "We got eight, but they're in here now." Nick rubbed his stomach to indicate we'd eaten the fish. "Wish you had stopped by earlier. You could have helped us with them."
"Tell you the truth, Nick, I don't much like fish. But I appreciate the invite." After a moment's pause, Tony continued. "Did y'all get them doughnuts I left in the kitchen this mornin'? I figured y'all was probably hungry."
"Yeah, thanks, man. They were good. You want a beer," Nick asked.
"What would my bossman say, you reckon," Tony asked with a grin.
"And who might that be? Bob?" Nick chuckled at what I took to be a private joke.
"No, not him. You."
"He'd say if you don't take that beer, you're a damn fool on a hot day like this."
"I thought it might be something like that." Tony accepted the icy longneck from Nick, who also handed one to me and got one for himself.
We all sat down. Nick and I sat side by side on the blanket, and Tony sat on the ground opposite us. Nick offered smokes all around, and we all lit up.
"So where's ol' Bob today," Nick asked.
"Bob ain't here, Nick. He got a call day before yesterday that his mother fell and busted her hip. He had to go into the city to stay with her in the hospital. I don't expect him back until sometime late next week. His mom ain't that old, but they had to operate on her, and she needs somebody to stay with her in the hospital."
"So that means you're all alone," Nick asked.
"Well, this ol' boy from home is supposed to be coming in a couple of hours. He's gonna spend the weekend with me to keep me company." Tony grinned.
"Ain't you hot in them clothes," Nick asked.
"I was just thinkin' they's a bit oppressive in this heat. You mind if I get comfortable?"
"Hell, no, man. That's what it's all about." Nick looked at me as Tony pulled his tee shirt over his head as if to say a new adventure was coming my way.
After the shirt, Tony pulled off his boots and socks. Then he stood up to take off his jeans. He wasn't wearing any underwear, either, and I wondered if I was the only guy in America who wears underwear with jeans.
Tony's body wasn't as big or well defined as Nick's, but nobody would think they could get away with kicking sand in his face. He was tanned all over, like Nick, and he had no more body hair than I did. His cock, now soft, was not as big as mine, and I felt a little relief. I had imagined another six-incher flopping in my face. My soft cock is no more than two and a half inches, and Tony's must have been about two inches.
"Can y'all make some room for me on that blanket, so I won't get sand in my ass?"
We all laughed, and the three of us managed to form a kind of triangle on the blanket, facing inward toward one another.
"What have y'all been doin' for fun," Tony asked.
"I bet you can guess," Nick said slyly.
"I bet I can, too," Tony said. Just then Tony noticed Nick's nipple ring. He reached over and started to play with it, and Nick didn't stop him.
"What's this shit all about," Tony asked.
"It's a nipple ring, asshole. What the fuck you think it is?" Nick's tone was light and joking.
"What's it for?"
"Keep working it like you're doing, and you'll see," Nick said.
Then Tony reached for my nipple closest to him. "What about you, stud? Where's your tit ring?"
Nick started rubbing my other nipple. I caught on to what was happening, and I started in on Nick's free nipple and on the one of Tony's that Nick didn't have. The three of us pulled in a little closer. Nick opened his legs. Tony opened his and put one on top of Nick's. I did the same, putting both my legs on top of the other guys'. Nick adjusted the symmetry of our little circle by lifting his leg over mine. We all scooted in a little more so that we were very close to one another.
In a matter of a few seconds all of us had hard-ons. I was embarrassed a little at first. I mean, I had just met Tony, and here we were in a rather intimate posture. I got over that momentarily, though. Tony's cock interested me. Like mine and Nick's, it was circumcised. It was nicely shaped, but it wasn't any bigger than my own. I liked that fact.
In a few minutes we abandoned nipple-rubbing for cock rubbing. Nick took mine in his hand, I took Tony's, and, of course, Tony took Nick's.
"This is the way a circle jerk is supposed to be," Tony said. "Five bucks for the guy who comes first."
"You're on," Nick and I said in unison. I figured this was a contest I was bound to win. I concentrated on reaching my orgasm. Nick took the challenge seriously, too, and he started moving into Tony's hand to match his rhythm. In a second Tony was doing the same to me, so I joined in. It must have presented quite a sight to a casual observer--three guys, stark naked, humping each others' hands in the middle of the woods.
Despite all my inexperience in such matters, I didn't win the bet. Tony did. He shot his load within a minute of starting to hump. He was using his left hand on Nick, and he put his right hand over mine on his shaft and aimed it first at Nick and then at me, splashing cum onto both of us. He laughed a little. He didn't quit, though. He apparently intended to see us both through to the end. Nick was the next to pop. He followed Tony's example and hosed both of us down. In a few seconds I reached my climax and did the same.
This must have been one of those purely physical orgasms Nick talked about the other night. It wasn't bad--is coming ever "bad"--but it wasn't nearly as intense as the orgasms Nick had given me. I was ready to relax and finish my beer, but Tony and Nick had other ideas. Together they pushed me backward and made me turn over.
"Get up on all fours," Tony said, and I complied. He went to work on my butthole, while Nick presented his cock to my mouth. I sucked Nick enthusiastically, and Tony tongued my nuts and hole with obvious skill. Nick had taken my anal cherry with gentleness, and I wondered if Tony would be that patient. I tried to relax the sphincter muscle inside me, even as I tried to concentrate on giving Nick what he deserved. Tony pushed his way into me with greater ease than I expected, and in a minute he and Nick were rocking me back and forth, cocks in mouth and ass. Tony's hand was under me jerking me off.
In a minute, Nick told Tony he wanted to switch places. Oh, God, I thought. How can you do this to me, Nick? When Tony knee-walked to my front entrance, I was pleased to see his cock was completely clean. What the fuck, I thought. I'm sure this had to happen eventually. It might as well be now.
I steeled myself for a nasty, bitter taste from Tony, but I was surprised. His cock tasted better hot from my ass than Nick's had tasted greased down with tanning butter. I could take a much larger portion of his cock than I could Nick's, and in a few seconds I felt his pubic hair tickle my nose. Wow!
Meanwhile, Nick slid all the way into me in back, and the rocking between them resumed. Nick worked my meat as Tony had done, and, after a couple of squeezes of my internal muscles, all three of us came. Nick did his best to make this orgasm memorable, and it was because it was the first time I took on two guys at once. But it wasn't as good as my climaxes with Nick by himself. Tony's cum tasted different from Nick's, and Nick later explained that each man has a distinctive taste, similar to every other guy but slightly different as well.
We sort of collapsed in a pile on the blanket, and after a few minutes we disentangled ourself. It was hot, and all of us were covered with perspiration. Tony was the first to speak: "Your ass is good, Brad, but I think your mouth is better." I wasn't sure how to reply, or even if a reply was in order, so I just said "Thanks" and left it at that. We all wanted cigarettes, so we sat and smoked. Tony kept looking at me admiringly. I was a little surprised at this, since Nick is the one who usually gets the attention. Finally, Tony spoke again: "You're a sexy guy, you know that. I hope we can get to know each other better." It was obvious he was addressing himself to me, and I'm sure I must have blushed.
"Who's the guy coming down to see you this weekend," Nick asked.
"His name is Sam," Tony said. "He and I have been best friends and buddies since the eighth grade. He comes down here sometimes when Bob's away. You ain't never met him, but I think you'll like him."
"Why don't you guys come up to the house and eat with us tonight," Nick offered.
"Ah, man, we don't want to crowd y'all," Tony said.
Nick looked at me for my reaction to the exchange. I was beginning to like Tony, and I liked the idea of spending some time with him and his friend. "You won't be crowding us," I said. "Besides, it would be a chance for all of us to get to know each other better." I think I was starting to be attracted to Tony, but I didn't want to be too obvious about it. Hell, the truth is I wanted to fuck his brains out and have him fuck mine out. I knew Nick wouldn't care, and it didn't change the way I felt about him.
"Well, what time," Tony asked.
"I don't know. When's he supposed to get here," Nick asked.
Tony asked me what time it was, and I told him three o'clock.
"I expect he'll be pullin' in about four, maybe a little later. Would five be okay?"
"Great," Nick said. "Or earlier."
Tony stood up then. He said he had a few things he had to take care of before Sam showed up and that he would see us later. He picked up his clothes and boots, but he didn't dress. He got into his truck and drove off.
"All right. Let's talk," Nick said with a rather serious look on his face.
"What's wrong," I asked.
"Nothing's wrong. As far as I'm concerned. Are you okay with all of this?"
Wonderful Nick. Did he ever think of himself?
"Nick, I had fun. I've been thinking about what you said about this being a memorable weekend for me, and I've decided I'm going to take advantage of whatever turns up." Nick grinned at this. "Is that what the 'let's switch' bullshit was all about?" He grinned harder and nodded. "Bastard," I said. "I thought I was going to barf. You fucker!" Nick thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"It wasn't bad, though, was it?"
"No, Nick, it wasn't. In fact, even with my ass-juice he tasted better than you did," I said.
"You're not joking, are you," Nick asked.
"No, I'm not, Mr. Tanning-Butter-Dick." We both howled.
"Seriously, Nick, Tony seems like a nice enough guy. He's not you, you understand, but he's okay. Besides, he's hot for my ass." We both laughed.
"Slut," he said.
More laughter. Then Nick said, "I don't know this guy Sam. In fact, I don't know Tony all that well. He and Bob have been together about six months, but this is only the second time I've been around him. He and Bob came to my birthday party, but that was right after they had gotten together. I was mostly doing girls, then. And Sean. I haven't been up here much in the last few months. I was here at Christmas, but they were gone. Bob tends to go through buddies, or whatever Tony is to Bob, and he likes kind of rough trade. I don't give Tony much longer."
"Seriously," I said, "I want to spend the evening with Tony and Sam, and, frankly, I want to fuck and suck both of them. So if it's cool with you, it's definitely cool with me."
Nick hugged me tight and gave me a hard, wet kiss. "Let's pick this shit up and get out of here." So we did.
Nick and I drove back up to the house and unloaded the car. Nick wanted a cup of coffee. "I have a cup around this time almost every day," he said. "I think it's a New Orleans custom."
Then, after a pause: "Can you stand steak and potatoes again tonight?"
"Yeah, that'd be great. Lose the squash, though, okay?"
"Sure." Nick rooted around in the freezer and found a package. "How about eggplant casserole," he asked.
"Jesus, Nick, don't you people eat normal vegetables? What about green peas or carrots or something?"
He took out the eggplant and a package of frozen peas. He washed up four gigantic baking potatoes, put them, the eggplant, and the peas, and four giant steaks in a basket. He also tossed in bread, salad makings, including the dressing left over from last night, a frozen apple pie, and a half gallon of vanilla ice cream. He got a large bottle of red wine and the grocery bag with the whiskey ready to go, too. In fifteen minutes he had everything ready to cook for dinner.
"We'll cook and eat out in the pavillion. In fact, we'll stay out there all night. Is that okay with you?"
"You mean sleep out there," I asked.
"No, just to party. This thing might turn a little sloppy tonight, and we don't want guys dripping all over the furniture in here." He grinned.
"Great," I said. Sloppy, huh? I thought I knew what he meant, and I could feel a little reaction in my groin. I was getting excited at the possibilities.
When he was finished, Nick announced his intention to work out. "I haven't worked out since Tuesday," he said. "Want to work out with me?"
"Sure. But I don't know how much I'll be able to do."
"Well, you can spot me and watch, if you don't feel like doing anything else."
We went out to the pavillion and took the food with us. We got that stuff stowed quickly, and we went into the work-out room. It was really quite a nice gym, small, of course, as gyms go, but very well equipped. There were a few lockers on one wall, and Nick got a pair of work-out gloves out of the one with his name on it. There were lockers for Scott, Matt, Philip, and Bob. There was no locker for Tony, a sign of his transience, I guessed. I ask Nick if we should wear jockstraps, and he shook his head "no." Nick turned on a stereo and started his stretching routine. I watched him a few minutes and then decided to stretch a little myself. It looked like it felt so good, I wanted to try it.
There were mirrors on all the walls and the ceiling, so it was impossible not to watch yourself go through the exercises. Nick seemed to concentrate pretty hard on what he was doing, but, when I attempted to do a stretch that he was doing, he stopped and came and stood behind me.
"You're not doing it right," he said. "Let me guide you." He stood behind me so close that his cock was touching my ass. He guided me through the stretch, running his hands down my arms to make sure I was doing it correctly. Then he put his hands onto my chest and said, "You should be able to feel it right here and right here." I was feeling it, all right, but it wasn't my chest muscles. With that close contact, my cock started to swell. Nick ignored it at first; then he said, "I'll probably be that way pretty soon, too." That was all.
We next spent some time on the Life Cycles warming up even more. Nick lasted much longer than I did, and I got even more aroused as I watched his dick flop up and down as he rode the bike. It didn't seem to affect him, though. Then we took turns on a weight machine doing exercises for biceps and triceps. I did maybe ten reps with thirty pounds of weight. Nick did six sets of ten, with 120 pounds. Those had the effect of pumping up his muscles enormously. We went through all the major muscle groups on the machines, and by the time we were through, I was exhausted. Nick wasn't, though, and wanted me to spot him with the free weights. My cock hadn't subsided one iota during all of this physical exertion, and, by the time we got to the free weights, I was leaking badly. At one point I was helping Nick rack some pretty heavy weights he had been lifting, and a big dollop of my pre-cum splashed onto his face. Without a word, he gathered it with his finger and popped it into his mouth. "Waste not, want not," he said. Both of us laughed.
When we had been at this for almost an hour, with only minimal rest periods, Nick asked me for the time. It was 4:15.
"You can't greet our guests like that," he said, referring to my erection. "They'll think you're a pervert. Which you are." Laughter.
Sitting on the weight bench he took my cock in hand and moved it to his mouth. I had seen a hundred pictures of guys having sex in gyms, and I was never particularly turned on. Reality was different. Nick was covered with sweat, and I was damp myself. The mirrors let me see what was happening from every angle, and I went crazy. Nick took his right glove off, moistened his hand with his own sweat, and started probing my ass as he sucked me off. I managed to hold off for two or three minutes, and then I came with a shudder that made earthquakes seem tame. Spurt after spurt came out, and even my veteran cocksucker lost a little out of the corner of his mouth. It landed on his chest, and he rubbed it into his skin.
I got down on my knees to repay the favor, and Nick wasn't aroused. I looked up questioningly, and he grinned. "Do it, buddy," was all he said. I put his limp dick into my mouth, and it felt a little strange. I teased it and played with it with my tongue, and then it came around. Feeling Nick get hard in my mouth was fantastic. It was like I was breathing life into him. Nick put his hand under his balls and stuck his own finger up his ass. He rode it like a cowboy as I sucked for all I was worth. In six or seven minutes, he flooded me with cum.
We were still both hard, though. We went into a shower stall, he turned on the water, and Nick made me face him. He took both of our cocks into his hands and jerked us off. I had the presence of mind to get my hands on nipples, one of his and one of mine, so at least I wasn't useless. We came almost at the same instant, I beating Nick by a fraction of a second.
"Okay. Enough fun. For now," he said. "Let's shower up and get ready for company."
We finished our shower in silence and dried off. Nick got a bottle from his locker and started smoothing something into his chest and arms and, well, everywhere, even his cock.
"What the hell is that," I asked. "Suntan oil?"
"No. It's something we use at the clubs. It makes your skin shine without feeling greasy. It gives great definition to your muscles. You want some?"
"I guess," I said. Nick handed me the bottle and I started putting it on.
"Not too much," he said. "You don't want to look slick." Then he said, "Do my back for me, will you?" I did his back, and he did mine. When we were through, I looked at Nick and was dazzled. He looked fabulous. "Buff" didn't do him justice. The workout, the sex, the shower, the sun, the oil--they all worked together to produce a textbook specimen of manhood. Then it occurred to me what was going on. Nick wanted to make a good impression on the new guy, and this was part of it. Dumb like a fox, I thought.
We sat out on the patio to wait for Tony and Sam, and we didn't have to wait long. In a few minutes they drove up in the same truck Tony was in that afternoon. We saw the truck pass around the house on the driveway, and we heard the doors slam. We didn't see the two guys until they rounded the corner of the house. Tony looked at Sam and said, "See, I told you." I assumed he was referring to our nudity and their dress.
Nick and I stood up to greet our guests. Sam was a good-looking-enough guy, but nothing really special. He was a little shorter than I am, and he didn't look particularly muscular. Tony did the formal introductions, and we shook hands all around. Sam couldn't get enough of Nick, and Tony kept his eyes on me the whole time. "De gustibus non disputandum est," as they taught us in Latin class. "Regarding taste there is no argument."
Nick offered drinks and went into the pavillion to get them. That left me to handle the company. We sat down in pool chairs that had little tables for drinks and stuff on the right arms, and we were facing each other. I was naked; they had clothes on. Something was going to have to happen, and soon.
"So, Sam, Tony says the two of you are from the same town," I said.
"Yeah. You could say we was home boys," Sam said. He and Tony laughed uproariously at this. I didn't get it, but I chuckled politely.
Then I thought of cigarettes. Where the fuck was Nick? Distilling the fucking whiskey? I got up and went to the table behind me, and I got the pack of cigarettes and the lighter that were there. "You boy's smoke," I asked. Well, I knew damned good and well Tony smoked because he had puffed away this afternoon, and I could plainly see the pack of cigarettes in Sam's shirt pocket.
"Yeah," they said, more or less in unison. They both reached for their packs.
"Me, too," I said. Then I wanted to kill myself.
"Oh," Tony said. I thought I detected a little nervousness in his voice.
Where the fuck was Nick?
"Aren't you guys hot with those clothes on," I asked. Did I say that? Jesus! I mean, who goes around with clothes on in April? Jesus!
"I am," Tony said. He started to unbutton his shirt.
"Me, too," Sam said, and he did likewise.
Thank you, God, I thought. I had handled this like a complete fool, but this must be some sort of manifestation of Southern hospitality. I vowed then and there to read Gone with the Wind.
Tony and Sam stripped down to skin, and still no Nick. I knew what Tony looked like, but Sam was a surprise. He was no bigger than I was "under the silk," as I've read they say. When they sat down, they both spread their legs, giving me dead-on views of their stuff.
Then Nick came out with the drinks. Thank God, I thought.
We made small talk. Nick had put a Travis Tritt CD in the stereo, and I discovered there were outside speakers. Tony and Sam seemed to groove on the music, so conversation wasn't immediately called for. Half-way through the first song, though, Nick broke the ice.
"Sam," he said, "what do you do for a living?" I would never have thought of that question. Doesn't he go to school? Doesn't everyone go to school?
"This and that," Sam said. "Mostly I pulp-wood."
Pulp-wood? What the hell does that mean. "What's pulp-wooding," I asked. Both boys looked at me like I had asked, "What's a birthday cake?"
Nick rescued me. "He's a Yankee, boys. He don't know."
Sam had an understanding look on his face. He explained, "I cut pine trees for the pulp-wood factory. That's where they turn the trees into paper. Corrigated cardboard, really."
"Oh, yeah," I said. Duh!
"Yeah," he said.
All of us sipped our drinks. Mine was different this time. It was sweet.
"What is this," I asked Nick.
"It's a traditional New Orleans highball," he said. "Bourbon and 7-Up. You like it?"
"Yeah. It's a lot better than the scotch," I said.
"I got a high ball," Tony said, and he and Sam laughed.
"Yeah? Let me see it," Nick said. He got up and walked over to Tony. Tony lifted his legs so Nick could get the right view. He did have one nut a good bit higher than the other. Nick reached out and started rubbing it gently. Tony didn't respond verbally or sexually.
"You ever show that to a doctor," Nick asked.
"He seen it every time I've had a physical, I reckon."
Since Nick was up, he started dancing to the beat of the music. It was a fast song, and his cock jumped up and down every time he did.
"Come over here, Nick," Sam said. Nick complied, and Sam reached out a took Nick's cock in his hand, as though he was noticing it for the first time. "This thing looks like it's big enough to eat a live chicken. He stick this fucker up your ass?" The question was addressed to me.
I probably turned seven shades of red. Fortunately, Nick intervened before I could say anything.
"Hell, yes," Nick said. "And I'll stick it up yours, if you let me."
"I want to see this bull angry," Sam said. He started playing with Nick.
"Fiddle with that little ring on his tit, Sam," Tony said. "That'll stiffen him right up."
Sam took Tony suggestion, and it worked. Nick's cock started putting on weight. Sam continued to kneed it, and in no time Nick was as hard as a fire poker. I was more than half-hard myself at this point. Tony noticed and pulled me up out of my chair. He squatted down in front of me and took me into his mouth. He was already fully hard, and Sam was almost there.
Then Nick said, "Let's go in the pavillion. The carpet's soft, and the furniture's all vinyl. Plus, we got an orgy mat we can put down."
Hmmm, I thought. An orgy mat. Nick and his brothers were prepared.
The main room of the pavillion was huge, and there was a large open space in front of the fireplace. Nick got the "orgy mat" from a closet, and we helped him spread it out. It was a super-soft mat covered in white vinyl, and we got down onto it and sort of rolled around. Tony came after me first. I was sitting down, and he pushed my legs apart at my feet. He started licking my feet, dirty as they were from walking around since our shower, and moved up my legs to my thighs. The insides of my thighs are very sensitive, and my cock, which had flagged a little with the move indoors, got fully hard again. I thought Tony was going to give me a blow job, but he skipped my groin all together and began tracing the hair line on my lower abdoman. He kept it up until he was at my nipples. I love it when Nick bites and sucks my nipples, but that night they were hypersensitive from the sun and too much tongue. At first Tony's mouth work was a little painful, but in a short time I was loving it. His final destination was my mouth, though, and to get there he had to sprawl on top of me. Our cocks touched, and Tony began moving back and forth over me slowly. The friction was electric for both of us, and our first orgasms of--what? this session? certainly not of the evening, in my case, and I doubt in his--came quickly. It wasn't spectacular, and I didn't have the top of my head blown off, but it was good. Like a good jerk-off session.
We rolled apart and watched Nick and Sam. Nick had him on all fours and was kneeling behind him. We watched Nick enter Sam. Sam took it like a stud, but there were obvious grimaces of pain on his face at first. I thought Nick would be as gentle with Sam as he had been with me, but I was wrong. Nick plunged ahead, mindless of Sam's discomfort. Push-pull, push-pull, push-pull. Nick was working him hard, and it appeared Sam loved it. Nick didn't bother to jerk him off, but, as it turned out, that wasn't necessary. Sam came before Nick, a good bit before Nick, and Nick plowed ahead, seeking his own release. Nick bucked like a fool, the way he always did, and pulled out in time to spray Sam's butt and back with his cum.
"Cum shot," Nick shouted. I didn't know what he was talking about, but the other two guys laughed with Nick on that one.
Sam collapsed, and he and Nick crawled over to Tony and me. We entangled arms, legs, and torsos, and we smeared cum everywhere. Nick took charge of clean-up by rubbing every dollop of cum he saw into each of us.
Tony went outside and returned in a minute with four packs of cigarettes and four lighters. He passed them around. Tony smoked Camel Filters, but the rest of us were Marlboro men, so it hardly mattered who got which pack. We sat around and smoked. Then Nick went outside and got our glasses on the same tray he had delivered them on. My drink was watery by then, but I drank it anyway. Everybody else drank, too.
The Travis Tritt CD ended, and a Boyz 2 Men album came on. It was a radically different sound, one which I preferred, but nobody commented. Nick got up again to replenish drinks, and he brought back a bowl of cashew nuts and a platter of brie and crackers. We dove in, hungry from our lustful romp. Isn't that the kind of thing they say in porno, "hungry from our lustful romp?" It never occurred to me then, but now I realize I should have been sharing some of the hostly chores with Nick. But, gentleman that he was, he didn't say a word, verbally or through gestures.
I had ended up between Tony and Sam. I don't know if it was the bourbon that did it, but something emboldened me. I placed my sweaty glass on Sam's thigh and started rubbing it up and down. Then I took an ice cube from the glass and began applying it to Sam's stomach and chest. Whatever nerves respond to coldness took over in him at that moment, and he lay back and started moaning. He also started to get hard again, fast. In no time he had a boner that oozed pre-cum. I cleaned it up with my tongue, and hoisted his legs up toward his shoulders. He was surprisingly limber, and his knees went all the way back onto the mat, leaving his ass fully exposed to my tongue. I licked with all the skill I possessed, driving my titillator into his hole.
"Give it to me," he said. "Fuck my aching ass." All of a sudden I was a character in an Internet porn story, looming over a creature who was vulnerable and in desperate need of my cock. I didn't impale him just yet. Instead, I placed the shaft of my cock on his anus and rocked back and forth. I was pretty wet, so I slid across him very easily. I continued this motion for several minutes, and then I realized I was about to come. I squeezed the cum-stop muscles, pulled away for a few second, and then was ready to enter him.
Sam's ass was a good bit tighter than Nick's, even after having had my buddy's plunger in him a few minutes before. I got in, though, and I fucked for all I was worth. At one point I looked at Nick and Tony, and they were in about the same state, with Nick playing my part to Tony's Sam. Both of our boys came about the same time Nick and I did, and once again we rolled apart to eat, drink, and smoke.
Nick got up to fix more drinks, and this time I got up with him. I brought the drinks back to the guys, and then I set one of the tables for dinner. The pavillion had a gigantic pantry full of china, silver, crystal, and other food-serving utensils. This was clearly a place built and stocked for parties. The kitchen was large and well equipped, including the same kind of grill on the stove as in the house. Tony and Sam eventually wandered into the kitchen to watch Nick cook, and we all had another drink before dinner was finally ready. Conversation got increasingly animated as drinks disappeared and the meal approached, and everybody was very ready to eat when Nick fixed the plates and announced dinner was served.
The dinner conversation bored me. We--or, rather, they--talked about the last hunting season and what they almost shot. I hadn't known that Nick was a hunter, but he was apparently very good with both bow and rifle. We were all stuffed by the time we finished dessert, and we took to the soft chairs and sofas in one of the conversation groupings.
Everybody sipped after-dinner drinks and smoked cigarettes for at least half an hour. Then Nick introduced a new topic. A game.
"Here's how it works," he said. "We each write down some sex act--like blow job, fucking, jerking off, you know--on two pieces of paper. Then we write our own names down on two pieces of paper. We fold them up and put them in two separate containers. When it's my turn, I pick one piece of paper from each container, and I do whatever the first one says to the guy the second one says. If I get my own name, I fold it back up, put it back in, and draw again. We do whatever it is in the middle, and the other two guys watch. Both guys have got to come. Beating off by spectators is not allowed. Are you guys up for this?"
Everyone was. The buzz from my before-dinner drinks had pretty much worn off, but I intended to keep on drinking as long as everybody else did. The bourbon and 7-Up was something I could really get to like.
I wrote down "fuck" and "hand-job" as my choices of events. The others were a bit more creative, though, and we ended up with "dick dual" and "squeeze play in the arm pit" as other events. Nick choose first and got Sam's name. His stunt was a blow job, with hand action from the blowee. Tony went next and my name came up. It was for dick dual, which I wasn't really clear on at first. It turned out we had to stand and have a mock sword fight with our hard cocks until we both came. Interesting.
We each had two turns to pick, and, of course, two turns to be done unto. We swilled drinks the whole time, and, by the time the last drop of cum was dribbled, we were all exhausted. Sam actually went to sleep lying on a sofa at one point, and, when we were done, my watch told us it was 2:30 A.M. and time for sleep. Tony and Sam left to walk back to the gatehouse, and their clothes stayed in a pile on the patio where they had taken them off. If this had started for me at 3:30 on Wednesday afternoon when Nick picked me up at my house, it had been a hell of a fifty-eight hours.