A Year In The Life
In Touch Part 3
By Bix Meister
This is a story featuring gay men, and gay sex, intended for Adults, not Minors. It is fiction, and as such is not based on any actual people or events. It is a fantasy intended purely as a catalyst for pleasure. No attempts have been made to portray safe sex, but the author encourages you to practice it.
If this is your first trip to my series, I suggest you start at the beginning, Snowplow. You will get to know the characters more.
If you enjoy it, consider donating to Nifty. If you have suggestions or feedback, contact me at bixmeister57@gmail.com
In Touch Part 3
The immediate answer to my question, could life get any better? Yes. I was in Pete's arms when I went to bed that night, and he woke up in mine. For a restful night of sleep, we still found a way to touch every part of each other's body while we slept. My dreams that I had dreaded for the last two months, were calming and uplifting.
I dreamt about flight. Not the flight of a plane, but my own flight. Years ago in science class Mr. Swenson taught us that our molecules were constantly in motion. If we were able to harness those molecules in a specific direction we could then be weightless and fly. I had harnessed my molecules in my dreams that night and I was floating above our properties.
Every time I had the dream where I was soaring, I realized it was because I was well grounded in real life, in control of myself, my molecules That night I soared like never before. I was down by the old farmhouse, flying above Mike and Fred as they laid patio blocks in the back yard. Their back muscles were covered in sweat, the sunlight reflected off them as they created a base for the hot tub. I zoomed down to the porch and saw a pair of legs covered in uniform pants. I didn't know who they belonged to, but they looked relaxed, satisfied, strong.
I hovered along, inches above the tarmac as I made my way back to the house that Pete and I shared. I levitated above the peaked roof of the chalet, then spotted Pete and Derek working on the northwest corner of the foundation. They were stripped to their waists. Muscles shone as they dug out a trench to remedy, then waterproof the wall in the workout room. Van supervised the action, clad only in jeans. His copper furred chest glistened in the warmth of the sun. Yep, I was grounded, but in my dreams I realized I was floating skyward.
The higher I floated, the more I saw of my true home, Duluth. I saw the start of the Canadian Shield. It was the bedrock that kept me grounded. I saw Lake Superior, all the water a man could need. The trees provided oxygen for the air I breathed, and finally the men I saw and knew, gave me love and family. The higher I soared, the more grounded I was.
I woke up in Pete's arms. In my mind I couldn't get anymore grounded than that. He held me with a power that would have given energy to the steel mills back in the day. His strength was as resolute as the Canadian Shield. He promised me a foundation on which to build our future. Simply put, he was Pete, and that was enough for me.
It wasn`t the usual day. I woke before him, watched him breathe. I grasped his hands and pulled his strong arms around me. It was five thirty, well before my usual wake up call and I needed him. My needs were basic. I needed his strength, but I didn't realize the depth of his strength.
He held me as he woke up. Pete was usually the pragmatic one, but not that day. "Can you go in later? Will they miss you?"
"I can call in, but I don't think I should. Pete believe me, I will never opt for a day at the office over one spent with you. However I know that in order to spend more days with you, I have to make the most of my business while I can."
I don't know what I saw in my dream to tell me that, but I knew that was the ultimate meaning. It was a cool March morning, yet my dream told me of a warm day. Pete and I were basking in that warmth, creating a new home for the two of us, and our extended family. My rural friends used to say "Make hay while the sun shines." I never understood it more than that chilly March day.
We finally stirred. I walked to the wall of windows that looked out onto our backyard. The spring thaw had started. You could see the evidence up and down our property. The snow on the back deck was pock marked from the snow melting on the roof top. Shrubs that laid dormant under a blanket of white, were revealed. I saw an eagle soaring in the distance.
Pete wanted me to stay home, but this was the perfect time to tap into my creativity. "Make me one of your trademark breakfasts, I will make it worth your while when I get home."
Pete did, and I did. There was something about tapping into my Spring renewal that made me incredibly creative at work over the next week and a half. I saw connections that I never noticed before. With new challenges I stepped up and saw the possibilities. Clients reacted, which brought more business my way.
The remodel of my old farm house followed suit. Fred quickly found his groove. Angela lit a fire under the team and set a firm goal of the first week of May for the completion. Fred didn't back down. His attention to detail meant the back hallway, office and bathroom were completed on time. The ochre walls I remembered from my dream added an earthiness I felt was needed. The baseboards he found in the basement, then refinished, grounded the space.
We soon found ourselves ready to celebrate Pete's godson and his return home. Mario's return to the wrestling ring in Duluth as the Prodigal Son meant that he was not only stepping back into his dad's, but his godfather's life also. I don't think the writers on the pro wrestling circuit got the complexity of the story of the Prodigal son, but the hype machine played it to it's full extent.
By the night of the match the local media had played every aspect of the connection between this young upstart, and the old guard from the 70's. Pete had to meet with the local bar to ensure that our party would go off without a hitch. A few well placed tips for the wait staff, ensured that our party was private.
I had never stepped foot into the private party room at the bar. Let's be honest. It wasn't as if we were in some private club. The paneling reflected that of a 70's basement, not a posh Manhattan club. The suspended acoustic tile ceiling differed from those I might see at an upscale bar in Chicago. But for that night, we were very important people.
Pete and I held court as friends showed up. Unexpectedly Derek was the first one there. Now that I think about it, I should have expected that. He was there to be with his idol as he watched his favorite sport. I'll be honest, even though Pete/Ivan was my jerk off fantasy, I never saw Pro Wrestling as a sport. I thought of it as scripted entertainment. Talking with Derek over a few beers changed my opinion.
Derek talked about the athleticism and strength required. He had me convinced early on that Pete should have been the champ. I could find no argument against that, so I agreed. Even when Barry showed up, I agreed with Derek as he pointed out the strengths of Pete versus Barry.
Barry spent the better part of the night getting to know Derek. I thought nothing of it at the time. Derek was simply the newest guy to our group, and as the unofficial historian, it was important for Barry to know him. They shared a few beers talking about the old wrestling days as the rest of the group filtered in.
My litmus test was when Mike entered. I hadn't seen him for a while outside of work. Angela and Mike quickly cornered me. Angela was all business. We talked about timelines, punch lists etc. It was all work related, no talk of a hall pass. Angela pulled Fred into our group to congratulate him on the progress.
It was if our little talk never happened. Mike and Angela were so focused on the remodel, they barely noticed when Mario's father Giorgio entered.
Derek on the other hand was star struck. He had his three favorite wrestlers from back in the day in one room, Pete/Ivan, Giorgio the Roamin' Roman, and Barry the Bod. He sidled up to me. "Damn my friend, I'm creaming in my jeans as the thought of being in the same room as these three guys. We've got to hook up sooner or later, release some of this sexual tension."
His hot breath on my neck made me wish it was sooner rather than later. FUCK there was something about Derek that was almost hardwired. His breath sent the same jolt through me that Pete had. If I read my cards right I might have a chance to feel that jolt later on that night. Pete had a history of opening the sauna for post event parties.
The party was in full swing. Pete had ordered a number of appetizers and we were all having our fill. With the arrival of our last guests we were closer to heading the DECC for the match. Gino and Brent showed up, followed quickly by Justin. Each arrival caught Derek off guard. "Where have all these hot men been hiding all these months?" I don't know if he realized how obvious he was. Our stout building inspector had graduated from being smitten with Pete, to having a thing for every one of our friends, Justin specifically.
If Derek was hot for Justin, Gino and Brent had more than a passing fancy for Derek. Who could blame them. Derek dressed to impress that night. His work pants were traded in for skin tight Levi's. The spring thaw meant that he wore a simple work jacket over his body hugging flannel shirt. His body always reminded me of Pete's. The difference was Pete usually dressed to hide his musculature, Derek dressed to accent it.
I sat with Derek, Brent, Gino and Justin as we downed a few beers until the party bus was scheduled to bring us to the match. The normally reticent Derek was talkative, very demonstrative with his hands. His thick hand came down on my knee as he made a point. "I'd never guess that any pro wrestler was gay, much less my childhood fantasy? Too bad you beat me to the punch buddy or I'd be the one he was humping."
"There's more where he came from" Brent said. "After all I got fucked by an Olympic medal winning wrestler a few years back."
"WHAT?" Derek and I said in unison.
"Tell me more" Derek said. "This sounds hot."
I knew that Brent and Gino had an open relationship, so I wanted to hear the story. I also wanted to know how they dealt with being so honest about one of them fucking another man. If I could get insight on how they accomplished their openness, I was all ears.
"Well a few years back, before I moved here, Gino and I had a long distance romance. I lived in the Dakota's and Gino was here in Duluth. I was in a dead end job, looking for a reason to move here to be with Gino. We had set up the open relationship at that time, Gino felt it was important for me to be sexually satisfied and we both realized our love was strong enough to pull us through."
"I was out with friends at a sports bar on a Friday night. There was a Junior College wrestling tournament in town across the street at the Civic Center, not that I was paying attention. Then about 10:30 or so these well built guys entered the bar. The oldest one, the tightest one of them all, made a bee-line for our table. He stood about 5'8" of packed muscle. "There, that's my card" he said, pointing to the sports card laminated into the table in front of me."
""You're the lucky one buddy." He looked right at me. I hadn't really noticed it but there was the sports card for a 1984 medal winning wrestler in front of me. A dozen years only added maturity that augmented the few extra pounds on his frame. Fuck he looked hot, and I was supposed to ignore that as he put his hands on my shoulders while he showed his card to his wrestlers."
"FUCK, Which one was he?" Derek asked.
"I'd rather not share" Brent said. "Let's just say he was the hottest Olympian that year." Brent continued his story. "I sat there while the wrestling coach brought his guys over to my spot, proudly showing his card."
"Like now, I worked with a lot of female coworkers, and Shelly was sitting beside me. Shelly was a bright young woman, easily a dozen years younger than the coach, while I was about four years older. I knew from experience that Shelly could hold her own in any situation, but my protective side came out."
"What do you mean? Derek asked.
"Brent is chivalrous" Gino answered. "One of his best traits, and just another reason I love him."
"Yeah Derek, have you ever been in a situation where you feel the need to come to the rescue of a lady, whether they ask or not? That is what this was like."
"Shelly and I wanted more popcorn for the table, so we went over to grab a few baskets worth. The coach was there talking to one of his team members. He looked at Shelly "So, are you here with anyone I need to worry about? Or just your buddy Brent here?""
"Shelly's nervous laugh was quickly followed by "Just Brent here.""
"The coach looked me up and down then replied "Well I could take him down. Next..."
"I looked at him "Maybe so, but you can't beat up my boyfriend Gino.""
"You didn't really say that did you?" Derek asked.
"Yes I did, and Shelly about spit out her gum when I did. The coach was incredulous at first, until Shelly started to laugh."
"It's true" she said. "Gino has about half a foot on you, and about a hundred pounds. He has a heart of gold, but if he ever found out that you tried to do anything to Brent or Me, I'd hate to be you."
"Shelly was right. Gino had quickly become body guard and friend to my coworkers and thought the world of them. He was especially close to Shelly since she moved there a few months before hand. Gino would visit once or twice a month and in that short time he connected, especially with her."
"The coach looked at me, made a limp wrist gesture to me, and I chalked it up to his ignorance. We filled our popcorn baskets, then went back to our table and sat in front of his sports card again."
"I thought you said you had sex with him." Derek replied.
"Let me finish the story" Brent said. "I was sitting there, eating popcorn and nursing my last beer. Shelly had the early shift the next day, so she left with a few of the other co-workers. The coach came over and sat by me. "Sorry" he said. "I didn't mean to be derogatory earlier buddy. I guess it's my own stereotypes but I didn't expect a big guy like you to be gay.""
"No harm no foul buddy" I said. "I'd hate to break your illusion, but I know many who would make you seem like a wimp, and I would hate for you to make Gino mad. He adores Shelly and would probably level you from sheer adrenaline."
"Well to make a long story short, The Coach invited me back to his room at the hotel. He said it was because he had beer and the bar was closing, but I knew better. Before too long I introduced my tongue to his mouth, then his butt. Gawd he was tasty. We wrestled naked on his bed for a bit, and somehow I beat the gold medal champion at his own sport. I pinned him with my seven inches, then spent half the night letting him pin me."
"Yeah, He was late for his usual phone call that night" Gino said. "But when I got the play by play the next day it all made up for it."
"FUCK that's a hot story" Derek interjected. "If either of you want to play just tell Pete, he has my number."
Just then the driver of the Party Bus entered the room. "We're leaving in five minutes people, drink up."
Pete handed out the tickets for the event, then lead us out a side door to the bus. We might have been a bit boisterous, but the bus driver kept us in line. For a while I thought that inviting Micah was a mistake. He was almost shy amongst everyone at the bar, but his business sense ruled the day as he sat with Angela and Mike and discussed the remodel budget.
Derek's attention was all over the place, but kept coming back to Justin. To be honest I welcomed that development. Pete and I had been working on our relationship, and I didn't need the intrusion of a new or old fling to screw things up.
The party bus was a smart idea. We were at the front door of the DECC within minutes, without having to worry about parking. Our seats were easily found, just a few rows back from front row. Maybe I was naïve, but I never really understood the celebrity status that Pete, Barry and Giorgio still had.
Pete true to his character, did the Ivan pose numerous times while we made our way to the seats. Cameras were flashing left and right in this pre-smart phone era, taking pictures of the local legends. Our area had a constant barrage of autograph hounds, some even pushing their program in front of me, mistaking me for some long forgotten wrestler. Rodney sat close to us, and got requests. All of them he signed as Midnight.
Fred was sitting beside me. I really didn't have a good chance to connect with him that night until that point. I didn't know how invested he was in the current group of wrestlers, until we started talking. He was certain that Mario would win that night, being the hometown boy and all. He was filling me in on the line up, chattering away, then he looked up and went silent.
I looked in the direction that Fred was staring at. There sat Omar, and another man. I felt the same protectiveness with Fred, that Brent felt with Shelly that night in the bar. If this was another time and place I might have confronted Omar, but I didn't have the option. I could only grasp Fred's shaking hand. "He's not worth it buddy." I said, and meant every word.
I nudged Pete who looked over at his former wrestling foe. He whispered in my ear "Something about the guy he's sitting with looks familiar. It's like I used to know him somehow."
I could tell that Fred was crest fallen. Even though he and Omar had a brief fling, I knew he still had a love for him. It must have been tough seeing him out with another man.
I decided to change the subject. I reached into my shirt, and pulled out my backstage pass lanyard. "Here buddy, this is more up your alley anyway."
The whole night was more up Fred's alley. Pro wrestling meant little to me when I was young, beyond my crush on Ivan. The steroid enhanced caricatures I was seeing parade before me held no interest. That was until I saw Mario.
FUCK! If Mario's father Giorgio was a handsome Italian, Mario was the next level. I had seen the pictures in the paper, and on the TV, but what I saw in flesh was something else entirely. His body was naturally built, not enhanced through chemistry. His singlet worked overtime to enhance the great body, and what he was packing.
He arrived to Jay Z's "Can I Get A.." Let me correct myself, he danced and strutted his way out to "Can I Get A.." His ass commanded attention during that dance, and the "DAMN" I thought I said in my head, slipped out.
"Great ass isn't it?" Pete whispered to me huskily. "This isn't usually my kind of music but if that's how they dance to it, sign me up."
I clasped my hand on Pete's meaty thigh, "Now this is getting interesting" I whispered back. "That is a real man's body, doesn't look like he takes steroids."
"He doesn't" Pete replied. "He's been working naturally on that body for a long time. He's got good genes, look at Giorgio. But the rest is a lot of hard work."
From what I could see Mario took after his godfather Pete when it came to ass and dick. "That ass..." I thought. I wondered if there was the modern day version of me in attendance. Some fifteen year old in the audience seeing "that ass" and realizing like I did at that age, that he was gay. If he was lucky enough he would grow up like me, and find his own Mario, whether or not it was the real thing.
Mario had the body of a god, and a face to match. There was one moment in the introduction where the spotlight caught him in profile. A tight goatee accented his strong chin, the sweaty whiskers glistened in the light. His tongue darted out and licked some sweat from his thick lips. His nose, his perfect Roman nose created balance for his profile. He was looking up at his fans. He motioned for the spotlight to be turned from him, towards the hometown crowd.
The spot light started to pan the crowd and his muscular arms swept out to follow it, pointing to his fans, getting them hyped. They started with those in the nose bleed section. You could feel the arena erupt. The spotlight got closer and closer to the seats on the floor. Each section in the spotlight basked in their moment, adding energy to what had been a flaccid night.
As the spotlight got closer to our section, Mario looked down and saw us. The recognition was instantaneous. As hyped as the crowd was for Mario, Mario went to the next level seeing Pete.
He grabbed the mike from the ring announcer. "Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for my friend and godfather IVAN THE MAD RUSSIAN" Mario pointed at Pete, then motioned for him to stand. The spotlight found Pete, and he as the crowd screamed he stood and copped his pose.
Mario didn't stop there. He pointed out Barry The Bod, Midnight, and The Sheik. The responses were loud, but not at the same level as Pete's. I sensed Mario was getting emotional. "And last but not least I want you all to stand for the man. The man who made me who I am. The reason I am here, wrestling my last match in Duluth. GIVE IT UP FOR THE ROAMIN' ROMAN GIORGIO GALENTI! Come on up dad."
The crowd went silent at the news. Pete looked at me with a stunned and unspoken "What?" Then someone started a "Giorgio, Giorgio" chant as Pete's friend climbed up onto the mat. By the time Mario bear hugged and lifted his father up into the air. the chant was thunderous.
Mario continued to hug his dad as he took control of the mike again. "This is my last match here in Duluth. I have five matches left. Then I am coming back to my hometown, THE BEST PLACE ON EARTH. GIVE IT UP FOR YOURSELF DULUTH"
Every spotlight in the place panned the crowd. Fans were on their feet, stomping and screaming. Mario gave up his moment to focus on the fans, and they were celebrating it. If there ever was a hometown advantage, this was it. I suddenly felt the excitement that Pro Wrestling held for it's fans. I was enjoying the same rush I had felt at any great rock concert or sporting event. In fact it felt like a little bit of both.
However, I suddenly felt sorry for his opponent. Compared to Mario, a god at the height of his powers, the opponent looked like the male version of some silicone filled, b-movie actress. Mario was at his prime, the other guy, well past it. The differences that night were so stark, from the entrance music, to the crowd hype to the wrestler himself. Being so close to the mat, I could see his face. Something about it felt dead, lacking life.
But he was a professional, there to do a job. When the match started, Mario's foe came to life. Maybe he was a better actor than I expected, because he commanded the mat for the first minute. I knew they were following a script, but their match was believable. Both men showed far more athleticism than the wrestlers in the previous matches. Their choreographed moves felt real, I could feel the pain in the hits.
Giorgio was in his son's corner between rounds. The father-son connection was palpable. As Giorgio wiped the sweat from his son, I saw love and admiration flow between them. This intimate moment in a spectacle of bravado captured me. I was close enough to hear Mario say "Love you dad."
The closeness meant I also heard Giorgio quietly say in his ear "Forget the script, go out and get him."
He did. I don't think the other guy knew what was coming. It was like New Years Eve when I caught Midnight by surprise. Mario piled into his opponent, flattening him in seconds. I was suddenly seeing wrestling, not rasslin'. The other wrestler rose to the occasion. He proved to be a worthy opponent to Mario. Sweat was flying as the two went at it.
Pete whispered in my ear. "This is what I like to see, they are giving their all."
"Yeah, and it's hot" I said. Then I grabbed Pete's hand and placed it on my growing hard-on.
"Oh shit, you too? But he's my godson, this isn't right."
I reached over and felt the fat slab that snaked down his leg. I slowly stroked it while the two men grappled just a few feet away from me. Mario got his opponent in a hold and raised the man's ass in the air. I suddenly envisioned them as two naked men, one about to fuck the other. But instead I saw a younger stronger specimen, pinning his foe.
The crowd jumped to their feet as the ref got on the mat and counted him out, ending the match. Pete and I covered our hard-ons with our programs. Giorgio rushed to the center of the mat and lifted his son in the air. He then offered his hand to the man who had been a worthy opponent to his son and lifted him off the mat, and into the air. As he put him down I saw him mouth "thanks."
There would be no way to top that match. Giorgio jumped off the stage, and ran to hug Pete and Barry. "You're coming with me, you too" he pointed to me.
"Can't, I gave my backstage pass up to my friend Fred here."
"He's joining us too. Do you think they are gonna stop me from bringing my friends backstage to meet my son on this night? They got another think coming if they try."
They didn't even try. The bull-necked security guy only needed to see Giorgio and Ivan, then he rushed the five of us backstage. Giorgio knew his way, so we followed him into the locker room. A sweaty, jock strap clad Mario was talking to a man dressed in Levi's and snug white t-shirt. When he saw us he leapt to his feet to greet us. "Pete! Dad! Barry!" He shouted then gave each a bear hug. You must be Pete's man Kyle. Dad's told me so much about you." The man in the t-shirt raised an eyebrow at the last comment. It didn't phase Mario as he gave me a sweaty hug.
"Mario, this is my great friend Fred, he's one of your biggest fans."
Mario gave Fred a sweaty hug too. I could tell he was still high on adrenaline after his match. Even out of the spotlight he had a megawatt smile.
"Guys, meet Slim. He's not too happy with Mario right now, I kinda went off script. Slim this is Fred, and Kyle and Barry and..."
"No need to introduce me to Ivan, he was my favorite wrestler back in the day. Did I hear Mario right? Are you two a couple?" He almost hesitated on the last line, saying it under his breath.
"OOOPs sorry guys, I didn't mean to out you."
"No worries my friend" Pete said. "Yep, I am the lucky guy. I got a great godson like Mario, and this guy for my man."
"Whoa, I'd say these guys are the lucky ones" Slim said. "I only hope I get so lucky some day. As for Mario, he's lucky the match went off without a hitch tonight and he is retiring soon. Any other wrestler who goes off script would probably find himself written out of matches for a while. But I have a feeling they'll be milking his retirement as much as possible over the next month."
We talked back stage as Mario wound down. He was looking forward to his retirement from wrestling, and being back home. He jokingly commented that he wanted to get to know me, his godfather-in-law. I suddenly looked forward to greeting him into our extended family.
"Gotta get you showered, dressed and out to meet the press." Slim said. "I hope to see you guys later, but right now I got a job to do."
"If you're ever in Duluth, stop by. Giorgio's got the address. You and Mario can catch up on old times over a steak or three."
My adrenaline high carried me back to our seats. It was obvious that despite the promoters intentions, the main event had already been held. About a third of the seats were empty, their occupants were probably out warming their cars to exit the DECC's parking lot.
Our crew soon joined them. The party bus was parked outside as we filtered in. Fred held court with Justin and Derek, filling them in on the back stage experience. Mike and Angela sat close together. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, countering the chill night air.
On the way back to the bar Pete and Barry sat together. They were talking quietly, almost like they were sharing a secret. I remembered our recent talk, so I kept my distance. I would have to trust that Pete would clue me in when and if I needed to be informed.
We got back to the bar and just as expected, Pete invited the whole gang back to the house for a sauna. Mike and Angela declined understandably. Micah had clients scheduled for early the next day. With a little over four weeks left before tax day, our CPA was in the middle of his busy season. Justin begged a ride to our place with Derek. Fred offered to be their designated driver. They were barely out of the parking lot when I saw them slink down in the back seat of Derek's car.
At the house Pete offered drinks all around while I started up the sauna. Most declined, still riding the rush of excitement caused by the match.
"Sauna's ready" I shouted. "You all know the rules, but I have a new rule tonight. He who plays here, stays here. If we run out of rooms here, the overflow rooms are down at the farmhouse."
Derek and Justin were already downstairs making out. They slowly stripped each other in between kisses. Derek's dirty-blond beard blended with the fiery red goatee of Justin. Justin soon had his thick hands on the beautiful ass of his new friend. I was handing out towels to the guys entering the sauna as I watched their intimacy. I almost wanted to tap their shoulders and tell them to get a room, but I threw two towels at them.
"The sauna's that way guys. Join us if you want."
I entered the sauna. Pete was soaking in the heat in his usual spot, the far right upper corner. I quickly joined him, falling into his arms, between his strong legs. "Quite the match tonight wasn't it?" he croaked in my ear. "Very inspiring" he said as he rubbed his hard dick against my lower back.
I looked around the room and saw more inspiration among the perspiration. Brent and Gino were huddled together in the other corner. Their love never ceased to amaze me. Angelo was seated one tier down between his two Buddha bellied friends Charlie and Fred. I saw Fred kiss Angelo's neck as Charlie's hand went down to the plowman's ass. A thick finger slipped down the crack, then disappeared.
Justin and Derek entered the sauna. Justin found a spot on the top tier while Derek surveyed the room. He was taking in the heat of the sauna, shaking imaginary kinks from his body as he walked over to the corner. There he stretched. The subtle movement augmented each muscle. Our home inspector was being inspected. The simple tension he would create as he stretched, helped define his musculature.
I doubt any of us who were intrigued by the clothed Derek, were disappointed by the naked one. He stepped one foot back, then leaned forward and pushed against the wall. Eight thick inches of dick bobbed as he looked back at Pete and I.
"Quite the man, isn't he?" Pete whispered. "Aren't you glad he's in our life?"
I was taken aback by the comment, didn't know what to make of it, but I watched Derek finished his impromptu show. He circled and stretched his strong arms above his head, then spied Justin on the top tier. He winked at his chosen man for the night, then forcefully strutted up between Justin's splayed legs.
"I got the hottest one here" he said, then bent down to continue the kisses that they had started outside. Somewhere in the kisses Derek's strong arms pulled Justin's meaty thighs forward, leaving his sweat-slicked ass dangling off the edge of the tier. Pete held me in his arms as I watched Derek slide his dick home.
Justin arched his back, opened his mouth and groaned out a throaty "Yeah" but the voice came from behind me.
I looked back at Pete. "I thought he was a bottom, what got into him?"
"He was born a top, just like us, he just needed the right inspiration, and it looks like our little red headed bulldog is the right one."
Whatever the incentive, Derek made love to Justin. I was expecting his rough and tumble side to come to the forefront, but his loving side trumped all. I had the feeling that in this open space, they felt they were alone.
For me it quickly became Pete and I, and Derek and Justin. Inspired by Derek, Pete lifted me slowly, then nudged his dick into my ass. He nuzzled my shoulders, kissed my neck, held me tightly as he slowly explored my tunnel. I was ready for Pete. His touch already had me heightened. My neck, my arms, my butt were already tingling as he held me, his dick had me shivering.
Pete and Derek were matching each other, thrust for thrust. Justin's thick fingers were holding onto the wooden slats for dear life as Derek started to pound his butt. Pete followed the tempo, holding me up while he thrust into my ass.
I saw Justin spurt onto the copper colored fur covering his chest. Seconds later I shot off. My cum landed on Charlie's back as he was skewering Angelo with his beer-can cock. "WHOA" Fred said coming up for air. "What a shot"
Soon the sauna was filled with a chorus of groans, grunts and growls as an almost simultaneous orgasm enveloped the room. Pete held me tighter as he filled my butt with his scum. It was as intense as my orgasm the night we got back together, the spurts never seemed to end. "What a great way to welcome him into our extended family, isn't it"
I clenched my ass on his dick, pulled his arms tighter, then used his hands to tap out our personal message. "1-4-3." Once my breathing got back to normal I was able to finally speak. "Guys, the showers are next door. Justin and Derek, you get the room across the hall, Brent and Gino, the office, and the three amigos, you get the overflow at the farm house."
"Breakfast is tomorrow at seven, no make that eight. I think I know a couple who might need some extra alone time." Pete said, winking at Derek and Justin.
I got up, regretting it when Pete's dick left my ass. I pulled him off the top tier, into my arms, and then to the showers. We started them all up, got each one to the perfect temperature, then held each other as we slowly rinsed off.
I held Pete, looked down into his eyes. To this day it always amazes me that my lover is actually shorter than I am. His outsized personality was always the equalizer. I looked at him, and couldn't stop a tear from falling.
"What's wrong?" he said and held me tighter.
"Not a thing, but I think I know what's going on, and I couldn't be happier."