Perfect Hosts

PERFECT HOSTS by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2002 by the author.

It was Terry who introduced me to Richard and Wes. He'd called on Saturday afternoon to make sure I was going to be at Splash, the new downtown bar, that evening.

"My friends from Houston are in town and I'd really like you to meet them," he said.

"Any friends of yours are friends of mine, Terry, but you know," I said, "I'd be more excited if it was ONE friend you wanted me to meet."

He wasn't in the mood to listen to me lament my current state of singlehood. "Be there or be straight. Gotta run."

The bar was noisy, smoky and packed. I bought a beer, fought my way through the crowd, and found Terry with two men whom I didn't know. He shouted out introductions and we all shook hands.

"Why don't we go out to the back patio," Terry suggested.

There were fewer people outside and the music wasn't piped out here. We found a place where we could all sit and look at, as well as hear, one another.

Terry's friends, as I'd guessed, were partners. Richard was tall, fortysomething, clean-shaven and putting on a bit of weight. He wasn't what I would call handsome but had a pleasant, open face and a nice smile. Wesley, Wes for short, was about five years younger, a few inches shorter, and very definitely what I would call handsome, with a square jaw, dimples, and a bushy mustache.

I'm slow to warm up to new people, but I liked them right away. Richard let Wes do most of the talking, smiling when his partner said something funny. Wes kept a hand resting most of the time on Richard's knee. His striking looks caught stares from the regulars, but Richard didn't seem in the least jealous. He even pointed out an especially obvious and hot cruiser who walked by.

"Honey, go snare him so we can take him back with us," he said.

Wes laughed as he got up to take a leak. "You wish."

At that moment Terry excused himself to greet another friend, so Richard and I were left by ourselves. By now I was a bit drunk and found myself glancing at the bulge between his legs. Looking up, I saw that he had caught me checking him out. His smile told me he didn't mind.

"It's our first visit to Austin and we've had a wonderful time," he said. "All of Terry's friends are so nice. I hope you'll visit us next time you're in Houston."

"Actually I come down pretty regularly," I said. "Business and the opera."

His face lit up. "You go to the opera? Wes and I subscribe. Which series?"

It turned out we had the same series, Saturday matinees.

"This is great. Most of our friends at home aren't into opera. You'll be there in January for Rigoletto? Give us a buzz and we can go together."

By the time Wes returned, we were deep in conversation about the Houston Grand Opera's season.

"Brian heard Pavarotti sing the Duke live, Wesley. Can you imagine?"

Wes looked at me and made a wry face. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, Brian," he said. "Once Dickie here finds a fellow opera queen he does NOT let go."

I shrugged and smiled. "I don't mind." It was true. I wanted to spend more time with this pleasant couple.

Terry came back at that moment. "So how's it going, guys?"

"Brian's going to be our house guest when he comes down for the Verdi," Richard said, then turned to me. "Right, Brian?"

All I could do was shrug again. "Sure."

Terry raised his eyebrows in my direction. "My, don't we rate. I've never gotten a weekend invite from these two cheapskates."

Wes snorted. "Some people just aren't cultured enough."

Terry shot back a smartass retort and our conversation quickly degenerated into bitchy hilarity.

"They're darling," I said in the sudden quiet of Terry's car. We had just dropped Richard and Wes off at their hotel. My voice was hoarse, my sides sore from the evening's talk and laughter.

Terry nodded as he swung the wheel to take me back to the bar and my own vehicle. "Together ten years and still crazy about each other. I don't know how they do it."

He grinned. "Don't you go trying to break them up. I saw you giving Richard the eye."

"Okay, I admit I thought he was hot. But so is Wes."

Terry nodded. "They're both quality guys." He raised his eyebrows at me. "You really lucked out, getting invited to their house. I want a full report."

"Brian!" Richard's voice exclaimed on the phone six weeks later. "We've been waiting for you to call. You're still coming this Saturday, I hope?"

"If you'll still have me."

"Of course! Meet us in the lobby of the theater for drinks, about a half hour before? We'll make plans."

They were waiting for me at the top of the escalator that led up from the ground floor of the Wortham Center, home of the Houston Opera, to its elevated lobby. Richard was dressed up like a Texan, in sport coat, jeans, boots and bola tie, while Wes looked more conventionally dapper. I stepped off the moving staircase and was gathered with a shout into their open arms.

Richard and Wesley were serious fans--they had orchestra seats. During intermission I came down from the balcony and found them in the crowd, holding drinks. To my pleased surprise, there was a glass of wine for me.

We discussed the performance so far. I laughed at Wes's blunt assessment of the leading tenor.

"Honey, I'm clapping for those tights he's wearing, not for those squawks he calls high notes."

"I'm really looking forward to tonight," I said.

"So are we," Richard said. He and Wes exchanged a glance.

Warning chimes sounded at that moment and we started to return to our seats. I felt the light touch of Richard's hand on my back.

After the opera we met again in the lobby and decided on an Italian place within walking distance. The restaurant was small and convivial, an oasis of intimacy on the ground floor of an otherwise dark and silent skyscraper. The manager greeted Richard and Wes as old friends and seated us in a booth, the two of them sitting across from me.

The food was delicious and conversation flowed as easily as the wine. By dessert time I was quizzing the two about their past.

"So how did you guys meet?"

Wes said, "Richard cruised and seduced me. End of story."

Richard rolled his eyes. "He's so crude. I went to buy a new suit at Foley's. Wes was working in the men's department then, before he got moved up to manager. Something clicked when we saw each other. I took a suit into the fitting room, got my pants off and before I know it he's knocking on the door, asking if he could help."

"Excuse me?" Wes said in mock indignation. "I believe I remember you asking ME for help, standing so the whole store could see the hardon in your boxers."

Richard winked. "What can I say, it was a slow night." He gave Wes an affectionate shove. At that moment I became aware of a pressure against the outside of my left calf. Richard was sitting opposite me. Was this a come-on? There was no way to react without making a scene. My heart began to beat faster and I said the first thing that came into my head.

"You guys are great together. What's your secret?"

The two of them looked at each other and chuckled. Richard turned to me. "There's no secret, Brian. You work hard at it, that's all."

"I don't know, Dickie," Wes said. "I think we do have a secret. We share everything."

"Maybe that's true."

The pressure on my leg was gone, but now I felt a gentle hand squeeze my right knee. Was it Richard again, or Wes? I felt dizzy from the long day, the wine and covert attentions I was receiving. When Richard raised his eyebrows and said, "Shall we?" I stood so quickly I upset my fortunately empty coffee cup. They smiled at my sudden enthusiasm.

Richard paid the bill, waving away my inquiries about how much I owed. At the door he turned to me.

"We'll drive you to the parking garage, and wait outside so you can follow us."

Before we went home we hit one of their favorite watering holes. As it got later Richard and Wes became more and more affectionate. I was never without an arm around my shoulder or a hand resting on my knee. Wes was telling the truth when he said the two of them shared everything. I needn't have worried about making a scene at dinner. I wondered what would happen later at their house. My cock stirred at the thought.

Finally we left the bar. We'd paced ourselves so I wasn't too worried about driving. It was a long way to Richard and Wes's place, though. We must have driven a half hour, taking the freeway, driving past interminable strip malls and snaking through streets in a subdivision somewhere in the south part of Houston before we came to a two-story brick house. Their car disappeared into the garage. I parked on the street and walked to the front door. A few moments later Richard's smiling face appeared.

"I know what you're going to say. Where the hell are we? Come on in."

I stepped into a front hall with a vaulted ceiling, the walls painted white. Richard and Wes gave me a quick tour of the ground floor. The two of them had good taste, as well as the money to indulge it.

"Too bad it's dark and you can't see out the back. Wes put in this incredible garden around the pool. It's like a tropical paradise."

I stifled a huge yawn at that moment and Richard noticed. "Why don't I take you up to your room."

"That might be a good idea," I confessed. The lascivious thoughts I had been entertaining back at the bar had disappeared. The thought of a warm, comfortable bed seemed more enticing at the moment than anything else.

When we got upstairs Richard ushered me into a small guest room with its own bath. "Make yourself at home. I put towels for you in the bathroom. I'll be back in a while to see if you need anything."

I thanked him, though I planned to be asleep by that time. I took off the dress clothes I'd worn all day and hung them in the closet. I had just finished brushing my teeth in the bathroom when I heard a soft knock on the door.

It was Richard. He had changed into gray sweat pants and a T-shirt. "I'm glad you're still up, Brian. Wes and I want to invite you to our room for a little nightcap."

For the first time that day I tried to turn down their hospitality. "Thanks, Richard, but it's awfully late and I've already had too much to drink--"

"I'm not talking about a drink. We'd like to offer you a massage before you turn in."

"A massage?" Something in his smile rekindled my interest.

My host nodded. "We've both had training, but we're not interested in becoming professionals. This is a service we offer to our friends."

"You both do it at the same time?"

"Yes. Have you ever been massaged two on one? It's quite an experience."

His blue eyes gazed steadily at me. I kept my voice casual. "Why not."

Richard's smile broadened. "Great. Follow me. You won't need to put anything else on."

We entered the master bedroom, as spacious and carefully decorated as the rest of the house. The light was dim and soft music was playing. A plain wooden massage table covered with a white fitted sheet stood next to the king-size bed.

Wes was there, wearing only a pair of gym shorts. I drew in my breath at the sight of his toned body, aware of a growing pressure stretching the front of my underwear.

"We have a client, Wes."

"Welcome, Brian," Wes smiled. His eyes sparkled with the same excitement I had seen in Richard's the moment I opened the guest room door. He gestured to the massage table. "We'll start with you on your stomach."

I felt Richard's hand on my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, "May I undress you?"

I raised my arms and let him pull my T-shirt over my head. He pushed the briefs I was wearing down my thighs. Two steps and I stood naked before the two of them. A thrill ran through me at the open desire in their glances. My cock slanted out, half hard.

"Very nice," Wes said. "Your table awaits, sir."

Richard touched me lightly on my bare back, the same way he had in the theater lobby that afternoon. I moved forward to the massage table and lay on my stomach, my heart thudding in my chest. Despite the tranquil setting there was an electricity in the air. There was nothing to do but go with the flow and see where it took me.

For the moment the two lovers seemed intent on giving me what they had promised. They positioned themselves on either side of the table. Richard took a handful of massage cream and spread it on my back. They set to work on my back, shoulders and legs in tandem, their strokes long and sure. I enjoyed the novel sensation of two pairs of hands kneading and rubbing my muscles. We talked very little and the warmth of the room, the dim light and soft music soon relaxed me to the point of dozing off.

Wes leaned down and whispered to me, "I'm going to take a little break. Richard will keep working on you." He walked away as Richard started on my butt. His strokes became slower, less methodical and more sensuous. My cock hardened underneath my body.

I became aware of someone standing in front of me. When I opened my eyes and looked up there was Wes. He had discarded his gym shorts and wore only a white jockstrap, the pouch full. In one hand he held a small brown glass bottle, uncapped. He smiled and raised it to my face.

I covered one nostril and inhaled. As the rush from the poppers hit I felt a finger slip between my butt cheeks and into my asshole, drawing a soft moan from my throat.

I took another hit from the bottle as Richard's finger moved, massaging my prostate and sending waves of pleasure through me. I wanted more, but when I tugged at Wes's jock he moved back, shaking his head.

"We aren't done with the massage. Time to turn over, Brian."

"That's right," Richard said, withdrawing his finger. "Trust us, you'll like the rest."

"Well, okay." I turned onto my back with mock reluctance. My liberated cock lay hard and dripping on my stomach, pointing straight at my navel. Richard laid a hand over it. "Very nice."

Standing behind my head, Wes massaged my chest, paying lots of attention to my nipples. Richard slipped off his sweats and t-shirt. When he straightened my eyes widened at the sight of his cock jutting beneath the swell of his stomach.

"No wonder he calls you Dickie." Richard laughed as he grasped my more modest endowment and began to stroke it. Wes bent over me at that moment and took one of my nipples into his mouth. I squirmed and tried to grab them both, gasping, "Please."

Wes bent and wrapped one steely arm around my head. I felt his warm breath on my face as he said, a chuckle in his voice, "Behave, or we'll have to get rough."

"Maybe it's time, Wes."

"Think so?" Wes's face disappeared and was replaced by Richard's, descending on my mouth in a long, wet kiss.

"Yes, I think so," Richard said when he released me. "Ready for bed, Brian?"

I nodded with alacrity. Wes peeled off his jockstrap. Now we were all naked and hard.

"We have only two rules," Richard said. "The first is no barebacking. The second is you're our guest tonight, so you don't do any work. Just lie back and enjoy."

I found out what he meant as I lay on my back on the king-sized bed, my hosts on either side of me. It was as if they were continuing the massage, except both of them now used their mouths, cocks and asses in addition to their hands. Richard sucked my cock while Wes straddled me, holding my head up and pushing his organ, not as mammoth as Richard's but impressive enough, into my waiting mouth. He then turned and sat on my face, his shaved hole opening for my eager tongue.

They switched places. Wes's hands parted and lifted my legs so he could get a taste of my hole, while Richard lay beside me and gave me another passionate kiss that went on and on, leaving my mouth only so he could suck and bite at my tits. He then reclaimed my cock while Wes was still rimming me.

My hosts made it clear they were there for my pleasure. I could touch any part of their bodies I wanted but they would not let me use my hands on myself. Any time I tried to speed the pace by jacking off my hand was removed gently but firmly. To test them I resisted once, which resulted in Wes forcibly fucking my face, grinning, while he and Richard pinned my outstretched arms to the bed. I got the message.

After a while I sensed a pause in the action and opened my eyes. Wes was watching Richard unroll a rubber over his erection. He caught my eye, smiled and moved into position between my legs, hooking them over his shoulders. Wes mounted my chest again, and I opened my mouth in anticipation. I felt Richard's cock nudging at my asshole. A moment later it broke through and slid in, my cry of mingled pain and pleasure muffled by Wes's stuffing his pole down my throat.

After Richard had fucked me for a while, Wes took his turn, then it was Richard again, until I lost track of how many times they switched off. Meanwhile, my mouth was constantly filled with hard cock, tender ass or urgent tongue, my cock ministered to either by mouth or hand.

It seemed as if they could go all night, but finally I had enough of this sweet torture. I asked for release, at first politely, then more urgently. Repeatedly they shook their heads, smiling, until I was pleading, raging and all but crying, half insane at being held on the edge so long, At last I saw Richard, who was fucking me, nod to his partner. Wes positioned himself behind my head and grasped my ankles, pulling my legs toward him until my knees were pressed into my chest. Richard leaned forward and began to plow my ass with rapid thrusts, his belly shaking as he accelerated to a brutal pace. His eyes locked on mine as he grasped my slick cock and began to jack it hard. I felt the sperm gather in my balls and fire rise in my insides. I shouted with triumph as hot jets shot from the purple head of my cock and splattered across my stomach.

Richard's face was red, his breathing loud and hoarse. I squeezed my ass as tight as I could, drawing the cum out of his spasming cock into the rubber inside me. As our bodies heaved in the throes of orgasm Wes released my legs, turned and straddled me one last time. A few strokes on his cock and he blew his load in my face. I closed my eyes and felt the warm fluid trickle into my mouth, the grassy odor filling my nostrils as Wes's shouts of ecstasy joined with ours. I raised my head and cleaned the rest of the cum off him.

We stayed joined as our breathing returned to normal. After a while Wes got up off of me and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sound of running water. Richard pulled out of my tender ass, peeled off his rubber and lay beside me. He took me in his arms and gave me a gentle kiss.

"How are you doing?"

I shook my head and sighed. "That was incredible."

He laughed and patted my cum-stained face. "Glad you enjoyed it. Just lie there and relax. We'll get you cleaned up."

Wes returned. "Bath's ready."

I reluctantly rose off the bed and followed him into the adjoining bathroom, Richard bringing up the rear. The sunken tub was filled with steaming water. Wes stepped in, then turned and beckoned me forward. When I was in, he turned me so that my back was to him, then lowered himself into the water, pulling on my arms so that I was compelled to follow his lead. We ended up with me sitting on Wes's lap, surrounded by liquid warmth. I sighed, closed my eyes, and relaxed against his shoulder.

The bath wasn't large enough for three, so Richard sat with his legs in the water, moistened a washcloth and wiped the cum off my face. Wes reached for a bottle nearby and began rubbing shampoo into my hair. He then rinsed me with handfuls of hot water. It felt wonderful.

As he continued holding me, Wes began to move his hands slowly over my body, tweaking my nipples, caressing my thighs, kissing my cheek. Soon I felt my cock stirring again. Wes grasped it and began to stroke it with increasing purpose. As I gave in to the pleasure I looked into Richard's smiling face. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue darting inside as Wes stepped up the pace of his hand on my cock. Soon I threw my head back and gasped as the second orgasm of the night shuddered through my body.

When I caught my breath they helped me from the tub, dried my hair and body, and dressed me in a white terry cloth robe. By now my legs were rubbery and I stumbled when I tried to walk. Chuckling, Richard and Wes each took hold of one of my arms and led me down the hall to the guest bedroom.

They escorted me to the bed. Wes turned down the covers while Richard divested me of my robe. Tucking me in like kind parents, they kissed me goodnight, one on each cheek. "Sleep tight, Brian," Richard said as he and Wes left, snapping off the light.

I awoke to sunlight reflecting off the wall of the guest bedroom. I stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock on the end table. It was half past nine. My underwear was neatly folded on a nearby chair, my shoes underneath. My bag sat on the floor.

I pulled on a pair of jeans I had packed and a fresh t-shirt and wandered downstairs, following various tempting smells until I came to the kitchen. Richard was sitting at the table with the Sunday paper disassembled before him, Wes was at the stove scrambling eggs. He looked up and smiled.

"Morning, lazy guy. Ready for breakfast?"

"I came in to leave your things early this morning," Richard said. "You were out like a light."

"I slept great," I agreed, stretching again. "I feel fantastic. Except," I added slyly, "My butt's a little sore." The three of us burst out laughing.

After breakfast I went upstairs, put my shoes and shirt on and got my things. Richard and Wes gave me bear hugs and kisses at the door.

"I never thought going to the opera could be this much fun," I told them.

"Our pleasure, Brian," Richard said, squeezing my shoulder. "Come back anytime. We mean it."

As I drove off I saw them in the rearview mirror standing in their driveway, waving.

I ran into Terry a week or so later. He asked about my visit with his friends.

I smiled. "They were the perfect hosts."

END