Anal Awakenings Part 2

The favourite sexual position of most of my girlfriends has been
missionary. I can understand that. One ex once told me that she enjoyed the
sense of closeness and mutuality that she felt when we were face to face;
that we could kiss each other and look into each others' eyes.

I don't really think that's it. Most women, in my experience, have
difficulty facing up to their true desires and pleasures; talking about
their sexuality in terms of intimacy and emotional closeness feels safe. It
seems to me that missionary can be intimate and sensual, but let's get real
- it's a wonderful position for women to experience submission in, as it's
the most passive. To me the intimacy stuff is about justifying and
legitimising the pleasure of submission - about taking away any sense of
humiliation or exploitation.

I feel like I have a better understanding of sexual submissiveness since I
let my gay best friend fuck me. There's something dangerous and wanton
about making yourself truly passive. I can understand why women might want
to construct an emotional way of handling that - after all, they have to
eat a lot more shit in the world than men. If that's your life experience
then to stand any chance of enjoying subjugation in a sexual context you're
going to need to find a way of understanding it as something other than
subjugation - like intimacy. What made getting fucked okay for me was that
I'm pretty secure in my masculinity. A lifetime of rugby playing and
womanising - what better macho credentials can a man have?

But I understand where my ex was coming from when she said that she enjoyed
the closeness and mutuality of missionary. Getting fucked up the arse was a
big deal for me - I'm straight, for god's sake - but I love my friend Tom
like a brother. Getting sexually intimate with him felt like a natural
extension of getting into a scrum together - his macho aura, the sheer
masculinity and power of his physical presence felt like a reflection and
reinforcement of myself. And who am I kidding? The fact that I love having
my arsehole played with helped a lot too! I've been fingering myself for a
long time, I even tried a girlfriend's vibrator once - hated it - felt hard
and unnatural. I love fucking women up the arse; for me it's the ultimate
sense of intimacy I can experience, and I'm now getting my head round the
fact that this is because I can relate to what my sexual partner is
experiencing, as well as appreciate the extraordinary sense of sexual power
that it gives me.

For what it's worth, if I'm going the conventional route, my favourite
position is to have her riding my thick cock. I enjoy a sense of
separation. I'm an incredible voyeur - I've always been aroused by porn -
and when I'm on my back with a gorgeous woman using me, I can lie there and
watch her, and watch my cock going in and out of her, and the pleasure of
watching intensifies the pleasure of the intercourse. What man doesn't
enjoy seeing his cock moving in and out of the cunt of a woman he desires?
What greater sense of validation can he ever get of his masculinity, of his
potency? I guess my answer would be, to see my cock moving in and out of
her arsehole. Fuck, that gets me off! I love it when women enjoy getting
buggered. I love the fact that they know they're not supposed to like it -
that it degrades them as women - and yet they still can't help themselves.

After my night with Tom and his boyfriend Jude I thought that I'd done
serious damage to myself. At first I was euphoric - if I'm honest, I'd
always been curious about what it would feel like to be fucked. My first
experience was pretty extreme, not only in terms of accommodating Tom's
huge cock up my hole, but in terms of what it did to my head. It's a
disconcerting thing for a virile, macho straight man to experience his most
intense sexual pleasure with another man. Tom and I haven't really spoken
since. I'm not proud of that - he's my best friend. But I don't really
think we can deal with each other right now. It feels awkward. In the cab
on the way home my sense of euphoria had already stated to ebb
away. Sitting on the car seat was painful - my rectum felt damaged, really
ruined, and that was scary. I had visions of shitting blood, of having to
go to casualty and try and explain what I'd been doing.

It was then that I really felt the shame of what I'd done for the first
time. I don't have a problem admitting to myself that I like having my arse
played with. I have a major problem with the idea of other people knowing
about it. I'm a big man. I'm over six and a half feet tall, and broad
shouldered. In the last few years my belly has slackened and filled out,
but I'm still in shape. I have a professional, well paid job. I'm used to
being treated with respect, of moving through the world anticipating it
making way for me. I'm not used to people sniggering behind my back. One of
the reasons I respect men like Jude, Tom's boyfriend, is that they manage
to maintain a sense of dignity, of personal power, despite the fact that
most people around them perceive them to be gay. Jude's not effeminate, but
he certainly isn't macho. He's good looking in a boyish sort of way, and he
has an open, personable manner. Many of his gestures and expressions are
rather exaggerated - he can be very camp. I don't want to have to deal with
the kind of shit men like Jude have to deal with, same as I couldn't cope
with the kind of constant low level humiliation women have to process
daily. I'm not about to allow my personal tastes to undermine my social
status.

Emma's tits have a wonderful sense of fleshy mass about them. She's fairly
well endowed, and they hang low on her chest. As she rode my cock they
swayed heavily with a delicious light slapping sound as their weight swung
them out and to the sides and then back into her body. I wanted to reach up
and cup their weight in my hands, I wanted to feel my hands full of her
tits; but I was enjoying their free movement too much to compromise
it. Instead I concentrated on watching her face as she fucked herself
vigorously. Her broad mouth was slack with pleasure whilst her eyes were
screwed up in concentration. I knew that this was a good position for
her. My cock bends upwards quite markedly - what you might call a banana
dick. If I let her wriggle around on top of me I know she can line up the
head of my penis with the root of her clitoris as it hits the back of her
vagina.

Emma is lousy at giving me head, but she more than makes up for it with her
sincere conviction that my penis is very large. It isn't, but her relative
lack of experience, and my relative thickness and curviness happily
coincide to give us both what gets us off. Looking at her face I knew that
the head of my cock was hitting that G spot every time she sank down on to
it. She was making lovely grunts and pants of exertion as she pumped
herself up and down. Her knees were astride my thighs and she was leaning
back on her hands. Her whole body seemed presented towards me. Her
untrimmed bush glistened moistly, and I could see the pinkness of her outer
lips curling and uncurling around the shaft of my cock as it moved in and
out. The angle of her body was pulling my penis down and away from my
belly, causing a thrilling tension in my groin. I could feel my pleasure
building, could feel the heat in my loins intensifying. I sat up and leaned
into her body, cupping her plump buttocks with my hands, and drawing my
knees up behind her. She pushed herself up on her knees and held still as I
started humping up into her. My thrusts were fast and hard and she grunted
sharply each time my cock banged up her. She let her arms fall against my
back and I pushed my face into her tits, revelling in the smell of her. She
started to cum, yelping out her pleasure in thrilling gasps as her cunt
tightly spasmed on my shaft. I groaned deeply into her tits as my penis
started pumping my orgasm into her. I felt big and powerful, surrounded by
softness, by Emma's deliciously yielding femininity. As our climaxes
subsided she sank down into my lap, absently stroking my hair. I felt our
juices dampening my thighs. I put my head back and found her mouth with my
lips. She kissed me passionately. Her tongue felt small and soft in my
mouth. My stubble felt rough and crude against her skin. I pulled her
towards me strongly; I felt my softening cock pulse in her cunt as her
breasts mashed up against my hairy chest. Gently she pushed me back down on
to the bed, and followed, snuggling into my armpit. Her left leg was still
thrown over mine, and the head of my cock was still lodged just inside her.

We lay there companionably for a while, listening as our breathing returned
to normal. I loved these moments with Emma. She was always so contented by
our fucking. She never ruined our post coital bliss with anxious queries
about how it was for me, or with passive aggressive little pointers about
how it could be better for her.

'Let's have Tom and Jude over for dinner on Saturday' Her head was tucked
under my chin; she was absently fingering the hairs on my chest, 'You
haven't seen Tom for a couple of weeks, and you know how much I like Jude.'

'Yeah, he really likes you too.' I kissed the top of her head, 'I forgot to
tell you that Jude asked me to send his love the last time I saw them.'

'It'll be fun to see them. We could make cocktails - the last time we had
margueritas Tom was hysterical.'

'Yes he was.' My tone was flat and unenthusiastic.

'What's the matter, don't you want them to come?' She tilted her head up to
look at me.

I didn't know what to say. Wrapped in Tom and Jude's arms with a belly full
of their cum and Tom's piss, my arsehole truly liberated, all I'd wanted to
do was come home and share with Emma my sense of euphoria. I'd wanted her
very badly then. Had wanted exactly what we now shared. I'd wanted to hold
her and murmur my intimate desires into her hair and feel her great
comforting approval as she put her arms round me.

The next Friday, I couldn't wait to get home. It'd been a shitter of a day,
and I longed to get out of my suit. As the road eventually cleared I pushed
down hard on the Saab's accelerator and felt a delicious corresponding roar
from under the bonnet. The day's only consolation was that I'd managed to
get out of the office at lunchtime; Marie had held back the tide of
incoming bullshit for an hour and a half and I'd managed to get up to
Soho. I glanced at my briefcase on the passenger seat next to me. I'd
bought a beautiful leather strap on for Emma, complete with the most
perfect jet-black dildo. It curved upward at the end and had a series of
deep ridges around its head. It reminded me, in shape and size, of Jude's
penis. My arsehole contracted in my underpants. It felt tight and
clenched. I couldn't imagine it spreading to accept the dildo, let alone
Tom's massive member. I felt a painful pang in my chest as I thought of my
best friend. What was I doing ignoring him? And yet it didn't feel okay to
imagine contacting him. I was confused.

Emma, bless her, had anticipated my day. The house was in darkness as I
closed the front door behind me. I found her in the dining room, surrounded
by candles, holding out a large tumbler of single malt towards me. I felt a
rush of warmth for her. As I took in what she was wearing I felt my penis
stiffening uncomfortably in the confinement of my pants. She'd loosely tied
her hair up. Strands of it had escaped, accentuating the length of her
neck. Her magnificent breasts were pushed upward and out by a black lacy
bra that I hadn't seen before. She was wearing a long sheer gown that tied
just under her breasts. As I looked closer I could see that she wasn't
wearing pants. I felt my breath coming more heavily. To complete her
upmarket whore look she'd put on a pair of spectacularly elegant high
heels. I took a gulp of malt. I felt it burning in my throat as I roughly
crushed her to me. She'd clearly been anticipating my return. As I pushed
my tongue into her mouth she sucked on it eagerly, groaning and writhing
against me. I loved the feeling of her squirming body through my suit. I
loved her semi nakedness. I cupped her breasts and pushed the bra up over
them. They escaped enthusiastically, and bounced warmly and heavily against
my hands. We were panting into each other's mouths. She was frantically
trying to get my dick out, but was feckless in her excitement. I let go of
her tits and opened my belt and trousers. My penis sprang up against the
bottom of my shirt as I pushed my trousers and underwear over my arse and
down my thighs, and then felt thrillingly sandwiched as she crushed herself
against me. My cock felt hot against her belly. I had to have her, right
now.

I turned her round roughly and pushed her down onto the dining table. I
draped her negligee over her plump rump and exposed her bare bottom. She
tilted her pelvis back towards me. I grabbed my cock and pushed it against
the notch of her vagina; she was very wet. She wriggled slightly at the
contact and I bent my legs to get the angle right. I pushed forward
strongly and we both gasped as my penis slid right up inside her. Blood
rushed to my head and it pulsed with heat. I could feel the rhythm of my
pulse behind my eyeballs. I didn't pause for either of us to get used to my
being inside her, but started thrusting in and out. I looked down and
watched as her lips curled and uncurled frothily around my girth. Her
arsehole looked tight and inviting, winking at me just above my cock. I
stuck my fat thumb in my mouth, wetting it, and then pushed it against her
anus. She moaned at the touch and started humping roughly back against me
as I pushed my thumb into her arse. I was screwing her hard and
crudely. There was no finesse to my movements. I banged out the
frustrations of the day and heard myself groaning deeply. I knew I wasn't
going to last long, and from the urgency of her panting, I knew she wasn't
far off either. I pulled my cock out of her cunt. It glistened in the
candlelight. I pushed it against her anus. Emma turned to look back at
me. Most of her hair had escaped and her tousled tresses framed her face.

'Please. Yes. Fuck my arse.' I still hadn't got used to Emma with a dirty
mouth.

Thankfully I was leaking pre-cum like a fire hose. That and the coating of
her juices was just enough. I pushed forward, a little more gently, and
felt her anus contract around my cock head. My breathing was ragged. I
waited a moment, and then felt her arsehole dilate.

'Oh God.' She dropped her head back onto the table as I pushed my dick up
to the hilt; she rolled it violently as I started packing cock in and out
of her arse. The tightness felt overwhelming. I grabbed her hips and
pounded her, relishing the slapping of her buttocks against my thighs. I
felt her shifting slightly as she pushed a hand down to her cunt. She
wriggled as she started masturbating with her characteristic urgency. I
loved how much pleasure she got from having her arse stuffed. I had a
better sense now of what she was experiencing. Her groans were deep each
time my cock filled her up. She made high-pitched crying sounds as her
orgasm hit and her arse released a series of wet farts around my cock as
her anus spasmed. The rhythmic gripping of her climax pushed me over. I
staggered against her as the heat consumed me. I held my penis hard inside
as it pumped spunk into her rectum.

We took the bottle of malt to bed. We frequently ended up in bed early on
Friday evenings; being tucked up under the duvet felt like a comforting
nest for both of us. We could process the week, pick from take away food
cartons, sip whiskey, unwind our tensions, and all the time engage in low
level, sporadic sex. I had the tip of my left index finger lodged between
the lips of her cunt. She was feeding me a juicy chunk of satayed pork. I
chewed on it noisily, relishing the rich sweetness. I swallowed the pork
and took a swig of single malt. My head was buzzing pleasantly. I felt warm
and relaxed.

'I've bought you a present.'

Her eyes shone expectantly. She knew it was something sexy. A couple of
weeks ago I'd brought home a French maid's uniform. She'd had a colossal
orgasm as I'd ripped it off her, fucking her hard up against the kitchen
door.

I got out of bed and padded over to my briefcase, which I'd thrown on a
sofa in the corner. My cock swung between my thighs, making a thick
slapping sound. It'd lengthened considerably just thinking about the
beautiful leather harness.

Her eyes had widened fearfully when I first showed it to her. I think she'd
thought it was a bondage device. I knew that for all her enjoyment of
submission she hated the idea of being tied up - I'd tried to tie her
wrists to the bedposts once and she'd started sobbing.

I buckled her into the harness and she caressed the leather lovingly. She
looked amazing in it. She caught my eye and laughed. She started dancing
round the room, the dildo bobbing obscenely in her crotch.

We drank a lot more malt. I got out my digital camera and took some
amazingly horny pictures of her brandishing her new cock as I jacked off.

Later we were back on the bed. My tongue was down her throat. My hand was
in her crotch, my index finger and thumb encircled the base of the cock,
whilst the rest of my hand pushed under the harness into her wet cunt. My
cock was very hard.

'Would you like to try fucking me?' My voice was thick and quivered as I
spoke.

'Would you like that?' Her voice was full of questions. This clearly didn't
line up with her image of who I was.

I slathered the dildo with lube and got on all fours in front of her.

'Hold my hips and push it against my hole.'

I could feel movement behind me; the dildo poked my buttock. I heard her
giggle. I rested my head on the bed and reached my hands up and parted by
arse cheeks. She got the dildo in my crack, but it was too high.

'Lower.' I gasped in frustration.

Suddenly it jabbed inside me. I howled. She gasped an apology and I felt
the rubber cock withdraw.

'Try again.' This wasn't working for me. I felt slightly ridiculous. There
was no sense of will coming from her. No urgency. No feeling of control. I
had no confidence that she could fuck me as I needed.

This time she pushed the dildo inside gently. My arse opened easily and I
felt it slide, jerkily, inside. Her hands felt small and light as they
gripped my hips. I ground back against the dildo; it was starting to feel
good. My cock, which had shrivelled, started to thicken. I moved back
against the shaft inside me, attempting to intensify the sensations inside;
but rather than brace herself against me, she moved back with me. I panted
in frustration. I had no sense of being taken. I wanted her to take
charge. I wanted her to fill me with her lust, I wanted her to take the
initiative, to transcend her natural passivity. She started jerking the
rubber cock in me, but there was no strength in her thrusts, and no real
movement occurred inside me. I longed for the feeling of friction I'd felt
as Tom's penis slid in and out, rubbing against my anus and prostate.

I started wanking my semi-hard cock, but I knew I wasn't going to cum. I'd
had too much whiskey and wasn't aroused enough. I pulled myself off the
dildo. It came out with a slurping plop. I felt rather stupid and
childish. I didn't want to face Emma; I'd offered up my sexual power to her
and she'd been unable to respond with any kind of sexual authority of her
own. I felt humiliated. My arse stung.

She looked sheepish and deflated, and wouldn't meet my eye. I instantly
felt a surge of affection for her. I enfolded her in my arms and pulled her
towards me, and she snuggled her head under my chin. The dildo poked my
thigh; the lube and my anal mucous made it cold against my skin. I heard
her sniffing, and pulled her face up towards me; there were tears in her
eyes.

'Sweetheart, what's the matter?'

'I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' Her voice was small and fragile. 'Do you
still want to take care of me?'

Early in our relationship, as we'd been enjoying a particularly exhausted
post coital moment after I'd fucked her in just about every conceivable
position and made her cum screaming my name, she'd asked me if I wanted to
take care of her. At the time I'd felt a surge of masculine protectiveness,
and crushed her to me, reassuring her with gruff avowals. Now I knew what
she was asking, what she'd been unable to relate to. For her I was a
protector, a safe place to explore her deep desires for sexual
submission. She was my baby, and I was her man. No wonder she'd not been
able to fuck me worth a damn - she didn't have a script for that, didn't
have any desire to dominate me, didn't have any ability to take a
protective, controlling role in relation to a man who turned her on
precisely because of his intense machismo. Anal sex for her wasn't about
probing the boundaries of sexual roles, of opening up dirty, transgressive
possibilities: it might have been a dark, wild and kinky pleasure for her,
but it was one that reinforced her traditional identity, rather than
unsettle it. I knew that her sexual willingness, and her appreciation of my
masculinity, her lust, fulfilled a fundamental need in me. But I also
realised that there were places in my identity I needed to explore that I'd
never be able to share with her.

Later, whilst she was soaking in a bath I'd run for her, I called Tom. Emma
and I had chucked the strap on under the bed, and then I'd made love to
her. Lying on top of her as I fucked her cunt, stared into her eyes, and
whispered tender obscenities, I'd exulted in her pleasure in my virile
dominance.

Tom answered on the third ring.

'Sorry I haven't called.' I didn't announce myself.

'That's okay, matey. I figured you were feeling a bit thrown off track. I
wanted to leave you alone till you were feeling okay.'

'I need to see you.'

'Thought you might. Come round tomorrow night. Jude's got choir practice.'

'Thanks.'

We didn't do much talking, at least not for the first couple of hours. He
opened the door, and seeing the look on my face, immediately enfolded me in
a strong bear hug. I relaxed into his chest and he tightened his arms
around me. I rested my chin on his shoulder and put my arms around his
waist. He was broad, but firm. He'd stopped playing rugby some years before
when he'd got into yoga and meditation. I hadn't believed that anything as
flaky as yoga could have kept a man like Tom in shape, until he'd taken me
to one of his Astanga classes. I'd panted my way through the class like an
old man, watching him elegantly slide and glide from one extraordinary
shape to another. Of course, I knew that Tom liked indulging his feminine
side, as only a man with as much quiet machismo as he had can do without
anxiety. It was quite something to see Tom, with his shaved head, tattoos
and practically shaggy torso, padding around a yoga studio with bright red
toe nails. I loved him for it.

Eventually he pulled out of our embrace.

'What do you need, me old fruit?' His voice was soft; his eyes were warm.

'Tom, I need you... to take care of me.'

He led me towards the bedroom. His hand, holding mine, felt cool and
strong.

He undressed me with quiet efficiency. I stood, calmed by his economical
movements. I'd observed Tom in moments of high excitement - not least when
I'd watched him fucking the living crap out of his boyfriend Jude - but he
always exuded an air of containment, of calm, reasonable self control. He
didn't meet my gaze as he unbuttoned my shirt, and took off my tie, but
watched his own hands manipulating the task at hand. I became aware of the
rhythm of my breath as he took off my shirt, and I felt the air playing
across the hairs on my chest. Each of his movements sent out ripples and
eddies of draft in the space between our bodies. His hands on my belt were
deft and light. The coarse, sexual sound of my zip momentarily broke the
almost meditative atmosphere in the room. He eased the jeans over my chunky
buttocks, and let them fall into a puddle at my feet. Ignoring the bulge in
the front of my trunks, he crouched at my feet and unlaced my shoes and
unrolled my socks. He gently lifted each foot in turn, and I stepped free
of my trousers. The deep pile of the carpet was deliciously luxurious
against the naked soles of my feet.

His head, dark with stubble, was level with my crotch. I could hear him
breathing heavily. I looked down. There was a yellow stain in the front of
my white pants, which were being pushed out by my rapidly engorging
penis. Unlike many men, whose dicks hang from their bodies straight down,
mine, even when soft, juts out at a 45-degree angle. That and the size of
my balls, means that I display a man sized package, which is especially
gratifying given that my dick isn't huge; I'm pretty thick, but nothing
spectacular. My cock wasn't fully erect, but poked impressively outwards at
Tom. Under his calm, restrained gaze I felt my excitement build. Eventually
he gently put his fingers under the elasticated waistband of my pants. The
cooler air felt delicious where I'd been constricted, hot and sweaty all
day. As he pushed them back over my bum my dick throbbed. Tom pulled the
strap wide at the front and pulled the pants clear of my penis, which
slapped up against my belly. I was so hard it hurt. I felt an urgent need
for some kind of relief. My breath was coming hard. A shiver ran down my
spine and made me wriggle deliciously.

Tom encircled the base of my cock, and pulled it down off my belly. He
leant forward. I could feel his breath on my wet glans. I'd given up trying
to teach Emma how to give me a decent blowjob. She just wasn't very orally
orientated, and I have to confess that neither am I. She didn't enjoy
having my meat in her mouth, and so didn't relate to it in a meaningful
way. Tom might be able to fuck men's arseholes in a way that had them
believing they'd seen the face of god, but he was also clearly extremely
oral. He took my cock in his mouth like he was savouring every sensation it
had to offer him. He slowly rolled my penis round his mouth, breathing
heavily into my bush. He was taking in its every smell and taste, exploring
every ripple and contour of my foreskin, sucking up every drop of my
pre-cum. It felt spectacular. I rested my hands on his bald, stubbly head,
which felt weird, but thrilling - I was used to having my hands knotted in
women's long soft hair while I fucked their faces. Here I was with Tom's
butch cranium under my hands, behaving more passively whilst getting my
knob sucked than I'd ever known. I was literally swooning as he made love
to my cock. When he'd finished with the head, licking up all the fluids and
tastes he could find there, he slowly swallowed the shaft until his nose
was in my pubic hair.

His mouth was warm and wet, a squirming agile interior that engulfed my
throbbing penis like liquid velvet. Tom's hands grasped my buttocks, firmly
pulling my cock down his throat as his fingers nestled in my crack. His
touch was firm and controlled, and the contact with my sweaty, hairy butt
was grossly intimate. I spread my legs to allow him greater access, and
groaned as his index fingers met at my anus, lodging just inside my
wrinkled pucker. We were locked like that for what seemed like hours, until
he removed one of his fingers; my dick was still down his throat as he
reached his arm up towards my face, middle finger stretched out towards my
mouth. I leaned forward and took his long thick finger in my mouth. It
tasted salty, and slightly bitter. I sucked on it greedily, coating it with
saliva. When I'd slathered on it so much that drool was running down his
arm, Tom removed his finger and then I felt its cool wetness at my
hole. Tom sucked hard on my cock, and firmly pushed at my arse. His finger
slid right inside, in one surprising movement. I gasped at the inner
contact, shocked at how relaxed my sphincter was. He rotated his finger and
my legs buckled as he pushed hard against my prostate.

By the time he'd got three fingers up my rectum I could barely stand. My
head was pounding and I was pushing my arse down onto his hand. My cock was
still in his throat, but had softened somewhat. It felt disconcerting to be
overwhelmed with such intense pleasure and yet not feel any orgasmic heat
consolidating in my dick.

At last I felt the fingers withdraw, with some sense of relief. It felt
intolerably frustrating to be so stranded in deep sensations with no build
towards climax. The shock of the cool air on my wet penis made me gasp as
Tom withdrew it from his mouth and stood up. He crushed me to him and with
my nakedness pressed against his clothed, hard body, I felt slutty. My arse
felt loose and open. I was shocked when he leaned forward and kissed
me. The saltiness of his mouth, the roughness of his skin against mine,
yielding to moist silkiness inside, felt thrillingly intimate. But this was
my best friend. Having his tongue firmly exploring my mouth felt so much
ruder than having his hand up my butt. Our stubble chafed and I moaned into
his mouth, tasting him, feeling my mouth flooding with his saliva. My cock
was again stiff and demanding. I felt consumed by him, even more than when,
with his penis deeply buried in my gut, he'd filled me with his cum and
piss. I could feel the hard mass of his cock in his pants, pressing against
my naked thigh. We'd crossed a line and our friendship would never be the
same. I pushed the thought from my mind. I needed this too much to doubt
it.

Tom pulled back from the kiss. 'Tim, what do you want?'

'You know what I want... I want you.' I felt thrown, humiliated.

His gaze was hard, evaluating me. 'What do you want from me?'

'I want... I need you... to fuck me.' My voice was small.

'Why, Tim? You're straight.' There was a glint in his eye, but his face
remained deadly serious. I relaxed a little.

'I need your cock inside me.'

'Why?' His voice was harsh, but his eye still glinted. My cock throbbed.

'Because I'm a slut. Because I love having my arsehole stuffed with dick.'
Something had been released in me. I couldn't stop. 'Because I want to be
taken, dominated. I need you to use me, to want me... I just want your cock
in me.' I dropped my gaze to his chest.

He crushed his mouth against mine, and I felt his tongue possessively
exploring, this time much more passionately.

'Get on the bed. On your back.' The bottom of his face glistened with our
saliva. His voice was still hard, but I could hear it quavering with
desire.

I turned and climbed on the bed, and lay on my back, propped on my elbows
so I could watch him. He'd already shucked his trousers and shirt. As I
watched he slipped off his pants. I felt a shock of lust and fear as I saw
his penis. I've read a lot of porn. It's easy to convey the idea that his
dick was very big, but all those words, massive, huge, throbbing, don't
really do justice to what I saw right then. The size of his penis was
impressive in itself, but not in some abstract way, but because it was
fleshy and veiny, this member that swayed between his legs. It had a sense
of mass about it: it looked heavy, it was broad and bent to one side and
upwards, with a thick foreskin pushed partially back by his huge red glans
that poked out of the end. It stuck out from his hairy body horizontally,
bobbing as he moved. I was fearful, because of its size, but I was more
shocked by its realness. This wasn't a dildo, or the symbolic idea of a big
cock; this was a warm, pulsing organ that was coming towards me, that was
going to be inserted inside my body, that would feel hot, that would move
inside me and excrete gross fluids, finally flooding me with sperm. This
penis had a will behind it: I'd lost control of this situation. I was going
to get fucked, hard, continually, until this cock had reached its
conclusion, until I'd accepted its warm fluids in my belly. My heart
thumped in my chest.

I spread my legs wider. My own cock ached in its hardness against my tummy,
leaking pre-cum into the hairs there. The bed sagged as Tom climbed
on. There was no awkwardness, just purposeful control, as he lifted my legs
up and wrapped my inner thighs round his waist. I moved my elbows out from
under my torso and lay back on the bed. My breath was coming in ragged
gasps. Looking down he adjusted his cock and lined it up against my
hole. He reached over to the side of the bed and deftly pumped some lube
into his hand. I briefly felt his sticky finger probing me, and then I felt
the warm, blunt, spongy head of his penis pushing against my anus. My cock
jumped as I opened my arse and felt him push into me. I again felt a strong
urge to shit, as I had last time, and it felt gross and thrilling. I cried
out loudly as he pushed the shaft inside, and my arse felt stretched and
electrified by the friction. As my rectum filled with his meat I wanted to
piss. I rolled my head on the pillow, overwhelmed. There was still movement
through my anus, a delicious tight friction of hot skin against hot sticky
skin. I felt stuffed, couldn't imagine there was any more room for cock
inside me.

Finally he stopped packing cock up me and held still. I felt gorged. Sweat
was pouring off me. My arse, stuffed with dick, was pulsing little tense
contractions round his thick shaft. Tom reached down and grasped my nipples
between his thumb and forefinger and rolled them firmly. Liquid heat burned
in my chest and I tossed my head from side to side. My anus let out a slack
fart as it relaxed. His penis slid further inside and I cried out at the
sensation. Fully relaxed, I was stunned at the intensity of pleasure deep
in my arse. I shifted my buttocks in his crotch and felt the hardness of
him moving against my inner walls. It was an astonishing feeling, moving
against him, fully relaxed and sensing the thickness embedded inside. I
moved again, more strongly, and felt his shaft press against my prostate. A
thick stream of pre-cum pulsed out of my cockhead. I looked into Tom's face
and saw him watching me, and under his curious, but calm gaze, I felt heat
move across my body. I spread my legs as wide as I could, unfolding them
from around his waist. With my buttocks still resting on the top of his
thighs, I braced my legs against the bed and shifted my rump backwards, off
his cock. The movement inside me was obscenely vast, and I felt a quick
pang of panic: I imagined by bowels being pulled out with his cock. The
space inside me felt intolerable and I pushed myself back down onto his
shaft, gasping in relief as my rectum was again full of my best friend's
meat. An appreciative smile played at the corners of Tom's mouth. My slack
hairy belly heaved as I starting humping myself on Tom's big meat,
establishing a strong rhythm, grinding my arse into his loins. Tom took a
hand away from my nipple to brace himself against the force of my
movements. With his other hand he grasped my dick and slowly wanked me.

'Oh shit. Oh shit. Fuck.'

I felt like I was tripping out. My eyes were rolling back in their
sockets. My body felt suffused by hot waves of pleasure. And all the time I
was aware of Tom's hard evaluative gaze. Never had my sexual behaviour been
so abandoned, so surrendered, so lacking in control. I felt a cramp
developing in my legs, which were shuddering from the effort of fucking
myself, but I couldn't stop. Pleasure expanded in front of me, limitless,
and I threw my head back and cried out for it to consume me.

Tom's breathing was becoming more ragged, and he started to grunt as the
pleasure of my friction on his cock forced him to move. Letting go of my
penis, he pulled my legs up onto his shoulders and bent them forcefully
towards my chest, straightening his own legs out behind him. He pushed his
dick hard up inside me and then started long continuous strokes fully in
and fully out of my arsehole. His fucking became faster and harder, until
all I could do was grunt under his assault. My arse was letting out a
continuous stream of staccato farts on Tom's outward movement, rapidly cut
short as he shoved his cock back inside. I ached for contact with my dick,
but my body was so severely bent in two that I couldn't get a hand to
myself without stopping Tom's movements and sliding my arm between my chest
and thigh, and there was no way I was going to interrupt his vigorous
rhythm. Drops of cold sweat were falling from his forehead and nose onto my
face and chest.

'You. Fucking. Love. It. Don't. You.' Tom gasped at me, working hard at the
fucking, staring deeply into my eyes.

I felt very naked under his gaze.

'Yes. I love you fucking me. Fuck me. Fuck me harder.' I felt bold and
wanton, but grunted in pain as he took me at my word and slammed his penis
up me like a weapon.

'You. Straight men. You're. All. The. Same.' His words punctuated his
thrusts. 'The. Butcher. You are. The. More. You. Want it.'

I just groaned under the barrage he was unleashing on my exposed, slackened
arsehole.

We were panting and heaving with ever greater urgency. The energy we were
expending, him slamming into me, whilst I humped back up against him, was
extraordinary. Our fucking was rough; energetic in a way I'd never
experienced with a woman. I felt the pleasure building and building within
me. I couldn't have imagined such intense sensations could rip through me
without my body exploding. That this was happening as a function of my body
being so roughly used, bent double, so as to be unable to touch my own
throbbing genitals, would have been unimaginable a few weeks ago. Now I
could hear myself moaning and begging incoherently, almost sobbing as Tom
pounded me.

Shockingly I felt myself cumming. I was stunned as my cock started jetting
sperm. It hit me in the face, neck and chest. Hot thick ropes of cum stuck
in my hairy torso, and then more pooled on my belly. I could feel my
arsehole clamping around Tom's fat dick, and he cried out, ramming in me
viciously and holding his penis inside as he shuddered between my legs,
pumping his spunk into my belly. My orgasm continued to crash through me in
waves. I still hadn't touched my cock, but could see it between my legs,
jumping on my stomach. It continued to pulse sperm, which was drooling from
my cock head onto the hairs below. I hadn't come so much since I was a
teenager. Tom was prolonging the last moments of his own orgasm, jabbing
his cock in my bowels, and grunting, when he started violently. I heard a
sound behind him, and reluctantly regained consciousness of the room around
us.

Jude was stood in the doorway, slowly clapping.

'Spectacular show, gentlemen. You can join me in the living room when
you're ready.'

As he walked down the hallway, Tom and I looked at each other dumbly. I'd
been so wrapped up in my own explorations, in my own transgressions, that I
hadn't considered the implications of us having sex on Tom's relationship
with Jude.

Tom pulled his cock out of me abruptly. I grunted as I felt the thick mass
being roughly withdrawn, and it cleared by slackened hole with a rude
slurp.

'Get dressed, Tim.' Tom had already pulled on sweat pants and was reaching
for a t-shirt. I hadn't got into my underwear when he left the room. I felt
rather desolate. One of the most intense experiences of my life had been
cut short. I was reeling, trying to make sense of the complex, and not
entirely pleasant, emotions buzzing through me. I'd come here to try and
resolve what had become a severe conflict between my social and emotional
identity as a man and my sexual urges. Having just had the most intense
orgasm of my life, having just been willingly fucked to a point of
incoherence, by my best friend, the man I felt closest to in the world,
he'd abandoned me, even before the cum had dried on my body. I didn't know
what I wanted from Tom, but it wasn't this.

I heard them murmuring as I approached the living room. As I walked in I
could see them hugging near the couch. I felt awkward. An
intruder. Abandoned. My rectum felt raw and painful, and I could feel cum
and lube oozing into my pants, making a sticky mess.

Tom had his hands in Jude's thick, wavy hair, was consoling him. Jude saw
me over Tom's shoulder and smiled - not as warmly as the last time I'd seen
him, but still affectionately.

'Jude, I'm so sorry... I don't know what to say.'

Jude broke away from Tom and walked towards me. He took my hand and we
moved towards the sofa.

'Now Tim, don't start getting into a guilt frenzy. Me and Tom aren't
monogamous, you know, and I was, shall we say, involved, the last time you
and Tom got naked.' He smirked at me and my arsehole contracted, oozing out
more cum. 'But as Tom very well knows,' he leered at his boyfriend, 'we
have ground rules about fucking other people. And one of those is that we
don't do repeat business with outsiders. Another is that we don't rub each
other's noses in our extra curricular activities. Much as I enjoyed your
rather spectacular display, I think it most definitely counts as rubbing my
nose in it. If Tom wanted to have sex with you again he should have made
sure I was here too, otherwise it just feels too fucking sneaky and
disrespectful.'

Tom passed us both tumblers containing generous measures of his scotch. I
gratefully took a long slug of mine, relishing the burning warmth as it
slid down.

'I didn't come here to come between you guys.' I paused and looked at
Jude. When he nodded his understanding, I carried on. 'I didn't even expect
us to have sex. I've been in a bit of a mess since what happened between
us, and I needed to talk to my best friend. Trouble is, he's part of the
problem...' I trailed off miserably.

'Oh for fuck's sake, Tim, what's your problem?' Tom was exasperated, but
there was still softness in his voice. I felt dislocated: this was the man
who'd been fucking my brains out not ten minutes earlier; whose cum was
dribbling down my leg; whose sweat had mingled with mine and dried in
crusty patches on my face and shoulders. Now here we were trying to make
rational sense of all of this, like grown ups. I wasn't ready to be a grown
up. I wanted to languish in bed, making sense of my feelings.

Jude took my hand in his and absently stroked it. 'Tim, are you having
trouble coming to terms with your bisexuality?'

I roughly pulled back my hand. 'I'm not bisexual. I'm straight. I've got a
girlfriend.'

'And you like getting fucked up the arse by gay men!' Tom's voice was
incredulous.

'But I'm not sure that I fancy men.'

'There's different ways of experiencing desire, Tim.' Jude had shifted on
the sofa to face me. His body language was soft and unthreatening; I could
see that he was trying to placate me, yet his manner was so charming that I
could feel myself being seduced. His eyes shone with passion. 'You're
clearly very excited by having sex with men. But you're used to relating to
other men in competitive, male bonding environments. Let's face it you're a
pack leader, you're powerful, respected, you expect to be treated with a
degree of deference to your authority... If I didn't know you as I do, I'd
dismiss you as a macho shit head. Perhaps you need to get used to the idea
that whilst that might be important to your identity in the world, you also
have another aspect to your identity that's about being more sexually...'
He trailed off, unable to find the right word.

'Passive?' Tom was smirking at me cheekily.

I felt some of my disorientation slip away. They might have been forcing me
to tackle difficult stuff, but they were both such warm, affectionate men,
that I felt cared for by their calmness and generosity. The whiskey was
hitting the spot, and I started to feel less of an outsider, more included
again. Even a little flirtatious.

'I prefer the term actively receptive myself.' I pouted at Tom.

Jude howled with laughter. 'Oh you definitely looked actively receptive to
me, you horny slut!'

'Bitch!' I lunged at Jude, wrestling him off the sofa. We rolled onto the
floor, each trying to get on top of the other.

I could hear Tom laughing above us. 'Girls, girls, girls!'

Jude and I were a sweaty, heaving mass. We were both grunting and giggling
in equal measure. He managed to pin one of my arms under his knee and got
my flies undone. I got free and lifted my feet to his chest to push him
away; we rolled to one side as we tussled and Jude grabbed my jeans as we
separated. As Jude pulled at my Levis and trunks they slid down my thighs,
exposing my bottom. I howled, in laughter and in outrage, and lifted myself
onto my hands and knees, instinctively trying to cover my nakedness. Jude
had rolled away and was trying to lever himself upright. I lunged at him
again, pinning him down. He giggled uncontrollably as I stuck my hand down
his pants. His cock was hard. I realised that mine was too when I felt a
sharp smack on my backside. As I wavered under the assault my cock slapped
up against my belly.

'You're very naughty boys. You're going to have to be punished.' Tom
slapped me again. He could barely keep a straight face, but he was also
flushed. His dick made an obscene lump in the front of his sweats. He
slapped me again, but this time neither of us found it funny. I was looking
over my shoulder at him; I could feel my hairy cheek stinging like hell. He
was looking intense.

'God your arse looks red...' He slapped me again. He exuded a calm
excitement; he was watching my rear end with concentrated curiosity. I
loved the sense of possession he exuded; I suddenly felt still, patient. I
was waiting for the next move he would make on me. He caressed my buttocks,
enjoying the heat under his palm. Jude wriggled under me. I turned back to
look at him and he leaned into my face and kissed me. His touch was softer,
more exploratory than his boyfriend's. Jude's hands were in my crotch,
massaging my cock. Tom smacked me again. He wasn't being particularly
vicious; more than the severity of his hits, I was enjoying his feeling of
control.

'Shit your arse looks sexy.' He pushed his fingers into my crack. I was
still sticky from our earlier fucking. He fingered my slackened hole
roughly. I felt slutty.

'Jude. Go and get the lube. I'm going to fuck you stupid.'

Jude didn't hang about, but hauled himself from under me and jogged off
down the hall. Tom's fingers were still up my arse. He pulled them out and
started stripping off his clothes. My arse felt empty, but I got to my feet
and stripped too. I felt a little disappointed that I wasn't going to get
fucked, but I understood that this was about their relationship. Tom needed
to show Jude he was still his man.

Jude came back brandishing the bottle of lube. 'Let's party! And this time,
if you don't mind, I'll be the star attraction!'

Tom sat on the couch, with his big dong sticking up; a gross, fleshy mass,
ridiculously proportioned, intensely thrilling. I took a chair at right
angles to him.

Jude stood just inside the doorway; he threw the bottle to Tom, who deftly
caught it. Jude reached for the hem of his top and pulled it up over his
head, then stretched his arms up to release them from his sleeves. He
dropped his arms, holding the top in his left hand as it trailed on the
floor. The hair in his armpits was surprisingly dense and dark. He had a
cocky, adorable expression on his face. His tousled hair had fallen over
one eyebrow, and his eyes sparkled under Tom and I's gaze. Jude's chest was
smoothly contoured, in a toned, lithe kind of way. I've never understood
why so many gay men value bodies that don't look real - bodies so manicured
they don't look like they have a smell. I'd always imagined that a taste
for such idealised, unnatural perfection, was associated with fancying men,
that if you got turned on by looking at knobs, you'd appreciate plastic
bulges. For me the appeal of bodies is in their corporeality - their smells
and textures and excretions. I couldn't imagine getting aroused by studying
or touching skin that looked pre-formed. Given my increased heart-rate at
the sight of Tom's man-sized cock I was getting my head round the idea that
I might be aroused by men's bodies. It was a startling revelation for a man
obsessed with women's arses; who loved to hold their swinging breasts as I
banged their butt-holes. What was particularly striking about Jude's chest
were his nipples, which were extremely large and dark; I hadn't noticed
them the last time we'd been naked together. His swimmer's torso was smooth
and hairless, and his belly button bulged outward slightly, which I'd never
seen before. I found myself becoming breathless with curiosity as he
reached for his pants. I'd had my hand on his cock only minutes before, but
now, as he stripped for our pleasure, stalling us as he fingered the
waistband of his Calvins, I felt a strong, surprising desire to see his
erection poking up out of his bush.

I didn't have to wait long. Jude was in too much of a hurry to keep us in
suspense. His pants came off in one swift movement, and as he stood up,
leaving them lewdly discarded on the floor, his cock bounced against his
hairless, firm belly. He wasn't circumcised, but unlike Tom and I, his
foreskin fully retracted when he was hard. There was a deep ridge behind
his glans, but they themselves were quite slender, coming almost to a
point. No wonder he'd got up my arse with such relative ease last time.

I ended up watching them passionately kissing, writhing against one
another, for some time before getting involved myself, and only then
because Jude turned his cute green eyes toward me and made a suggestion so
exciting that I nearly wet myself.

They were an attractive couple. They'd been seeing each other for about six
months, and Jude was practically living at Tom's place. You could tell they
were still in the zone. They'd known each other long enough to have ironed
out all the awkwardness. Long enough to know what made the other close his
eyes and exhale in ecstasy. Not too long that stimulating such a response
had ceased to be fascinating. Jude's lithe, smooth slimness made a striking
contrast with Tom's stocky hairiness. Tom had tattoos across his shoulder
and down his left arm to the elbow, with more on his right leg and in his
groin. His shaved scalp looked rude and phallic against Jude's shaggy
locks.

I realised that something fundamental had shifted in me as I watched
them. My cock throbbed. Not because I anticipated them playing with my
arse; we'd gone way past the point where my interest in them was purely to
do with sensations they could offer me. Seeing Tom's lips sucking at Jude's
dark nipples, I felt desire rise in me. Desire to feel Tom's soft and moist
mouth on me, to feel the stubble of his cheek chafe me. Desire to suck on
Jude's nipple and feel it hardening under my tongue. I think I'd justified
my previous sexual encounters with this gay couple by imagining that if I
let them do stuff to me it didn't compromise my masculinity. I now realised
that my masculinity was always going to be intact. Tom was one of the most
macho, and yet most gentle, men I'd ever met. What was no longer intact was
my heterosexuality. I fancied these two queer men having sex in front of
me, and I had from the moment I'd first seen them fucking. Just like I
fancied Emma, fancied, in fact, practically every woman whose arse could
make my cock rise. I was bisexual.

I watched as Jude slathered Tom's dick with lube; I could see it jumping in
his hands. He was kneeling between his boyfriend's legs. Tom was
practically lying on the couch - thankfully it was big enough to
accommodate him, being one of those broad, deep affairs, covered in acres
of dark, matt leather. Jude got up and climbed onto the sofa, feet either
side of Tom's waist. He crouched down over his boyfriend's crotch, grabbing
the back of the sofa for support. As Jude's arse came in range, Tom grabbed
his penis and held it steady. There was a concentrated fluidity to their
movements. They'd obviously done this many times before and were focussed
by their intense desire. Tom's face was serious, his chest rising and
falling deeply. I stroked my hard cock, feeling blood rush to my face. Jude
gasped when he felt Tom's glans at his anus. My view was
extraordinary. Jude's back was so fully arched, his buttocks so spread by
the angle of his legs, that I could see Tom's foreskin being pushed back,
rippling against Jude's opening as the sphincter relaxed. They both
exhaled, Tom's eyes closed, and I saw the top half of Tom's dick distend
Jude's rectum and disappear. It was an amazing sight, seeing flesh actually
moving inside a body. Jude sighed as he sank down on Tom's fat cock; when
it was fully inside he groaned deeply and shifted, grinding himself into
Tom's hairy crotch. It was shocking to see Tom's large dong so easily
accommodated; but I remembered Tom telling me, weeks before we'd had sex,
how much Jude enjoyed getting fucked, that he couldn't get enough. His
rectum was clearly highly elastic.

I was about to find out just how elastic it was.

Tom's large hands held Jude's waist as the latter rode up and down, jamming
himself onto the big cock. Tom's forearms were long and highly muscled, and
darkly shadowed by hair. His ornate tribal tattoo glistened with his
perspiration, and rippled and pulsed with the effort of the musculature
beneath. I could smell them: musky, sweaty, maleness laced with traces of
stale cock and ripe arse. Their odour mixed with that of the lube, and the
leather sofa. They weren't making much noise; their rhythmic panting was
punctuated with strong exhales and a groan from Jude now and then as Tom's
cock strongly stroked his prostate. They paused to kiss, lewdly devouring
each other's faces in a mass of wet lips, pink tongues and stubble-shadowed
skin. Their hunger was exciting. Jude was writhing, tripping on the dick
stuffed up him. Their heads were leant close, and I heard intimate
murmurings. They looked over at me. Tom was grinning; Jude's slack, sweaty
face looked urgent.

'Tim, come over here and stick your fat cock up my arse... I want to feel
both of you in me.' His voice was tight and strained.

It took me a moment to register what he wanted. I'd never imagined such a
thing. I'd seen porn videos where women had got dicks in their cunts and
arseholes. The idea of Tom and I both cramming ourselves in Jude's bowels
was gross; the thrill of its depravity ran through me. My head was spinning
and I realised that I was holding my breath. My penis felt like a bone,
leaking pre-cum, throbbing between my legs.

I walked to the couch and picked up the lube. The touch of my hand as I
smeared the white gunk on my erection was like fire. We'd have had no
chance had I not had one of the best hard-ons of my life. Jude was arching
his back up towards me sharply. I stood with my legs outside of Tom's
thighs and crouched slightly to bring the head of my dick towards the
distended hole. I could feel the heat radiating from them, damp and
randy. My cock rubbed Tom's as I lodged it against Jude's arse lips. I
struggled for a while, rather ineffectually, defeated by the slipperiness
of my cock and Jude's crack. Each time I pressed forward firmly, my dick
would slide off or buckle against Jude's stuffed hole. I leaned forward,
resting my chest against Jude's back. Tom looked up at me and we gazed at
each other intently. I felt his love and affection for me, his appreciation
of my manliness.

'Let's fuck him, Tim. Shove your dick up his slutty hole.'

'Oh yeah. Use me.' Jude's voice was eager, pleading.

I pushed again, holding my penis firm.

'Ah! Ah! Oh Jesus!' Jude threw his head back violently as the head of my
cock pushed inside.

'Oh yeah! You got it!' Tom's voice was rich with lust and admiration.

We were both strongly identified with Jude; Tom had his hands round his
boyfriend's face, encouraging him, reassuring him. I was stroking his back,
helping him stay firmly in place, staked on our conjoined dicks. Jude's
sphincter relaxed slightly against my cock. I pushed hard and felt his anus
give, and then I was sliding inside, feeling slick movement against my
cock, feeling the hardness of Tom's joint jammed against me. I'd never felt
such tightness inside another body. I imagined Jude's sense of abandon, his
need to submit to us, his lust for subjugation. I felt the responsibility
of his desire, and wanted to give him what he needed. I felt a generosity
and tenderness towards him, and a strong sense of intimacy with Tom; we
were both working to satisfy Jude - it was our cocks he needed, our will,
our authority as men. Our potency was an almost tangible force in the
room. We started trying to co-ordinate are movements inside. It was tricky;
Jude's sphincter felt elastic, and it was spasming hard around the gross
girth of our cocks. It felt as though any long strokes would expel me from
his arse. Our fucking was gentle but firm. It was my penis that provided
most of the friction for us. Tom had less mobility of movement than me; he
was concentrating on keeping his huge dong stuffed inside. My jabbing
fucked Tom's dick as it fucked Jude's hole. Jude was grunting with
animal-like abandon. He was clearly riding the outer edges of some deep
fantasy, yielding to the intense submission. He kept tossing his head from
side to side. He was radiating a massive amount of moist, sweaty heat.

As I continued my small, fucking motions, my pleasure started to build. I
could still feel the rawness of my own rectum from the pounding I'd got
from Tom earlier, and it heightened my pleasure. I was a man who liked to
get fucked, fucking a man who was writhing on two fat cocks. My penis
throbbed, Jude's arsehole slackened, and the mechanical difficulties of our
position receded. I pushed down hard on Jude's back; his skin was slippery
under my hand. He moved all the way down onto Tom, resting his head beside
his boyfriend's. I shifted my hips and felt my penis slide inside another
couple of inches. Jude's head reared up.

'Fuck!'

Tom grabbed Jude's head again and they started kissing, with wide open
mouths, tongues squirming and probing. Their passion was one of the most
arousing things I've ever seen. I heard Jude moaning into Tom's mouth

I was buried inside to the hilt. I felt them both passive beneath me. I was
fucking Jude's arse, but it also felt like I was fucking Tom. I started
making longer, more powerful pumping movements.

'Jesus! Fuck me baby! Stuff me with that cock.'

Jude's moans were becoming more incoherent. He was pleading, sobbing
almost, as I fucked him harder. I felt Tom's knob moving against mine as he
started humping from beneath, our shafts chafed against one another as they
chafed the soft, slackening tightness of Jude's rectum. I looked down at my
dick moving in and out; it was very red and thick. I could see Tom's bigger
penis below. Jude's arselips were curling and uncurling around our shafts:
the movement was grotesque, unnatural and thrilling. I jabbed harder,
concentrating on the sensations I was getting. I could feel Jude's hole
spasming.

'Oh god! Je - sus! Shit! I'm cumming. Oh god... fuck me. Fuck
me. Please. God.'

Jude was manic, overwhelmed. He bucked back against me, almost pushing me
out. I jammed my dick in him hard. His rectum was clenching fiercely on our
knobs. His movements were frenzied as he tried to get some friction on his
penis by rubbing it between their bellies.

'Oh baby, yes, go on. Baby, take it. Come on. There you go. Oh yeah.' Tom's
hands were in his lover's hair as Jude came. I couldn't see his dick
pumping semen onto Tom's chest, but I could smell his sperm thickly in the
air, mingling with the other intimate, crude smells of our fucking.

Jude collapsed onto Tom's chest, resting his head on Tom's shoulder. With
his arms round his lover, I felt Tom begin hard thrusts. I matched him, and
our movements became synchronised. Our eyes were locked. We were fucking
each other. Jude's groans were pained now that the vast intensity of his
orgasm had passed.

'It's okay baby... nearly... there. I know. You're doing great.' Tom's
words were soothing, but his fucking was savage. Jude grunted with the
discomfort. It heightened our pleasure.

Tom's mouth gaped open, a silent cry. I gasped as the bottom fell out of my
stomach. I felt Tom's penis jumping against mine as we spurted our seed
into Jude's belly. We were turning him into a receptacle for our male
fluids, a vessel through which we bonded, where our juices mingled. As my
movements slowed I could feel the slick stickiness inside. We'd fulfilled
Jude's deep desires, his primitive need to be used. But he'd fulfilled our
need for savagery. I'd seen the look on Tom's face, as he'd seen mine, as
we'd violently fucked Jude's rectum, relishing his moans of discomfort and
pain. I knew that my pleasure lay, in part, in punishing Jude, in using my
prick to abuse him. And I knew that he wanted that, as I had. My bowels
were still leaking Tom's cum; the same cum that was coalescing with my own
inside Jude.

I lay down on Jude's back, pressing my weight down on both of them. My
penis was pulled upward, and the angle was too steep. It popped out of his
hole. I could feel the cum oozing into his crack as my cock lodged there. I
knew that there'd be blood on my penis. The smell of cum and shit was
strong. Tom put his arms up round Jude, and rested his hands on my
waist. His touch was firm, his hands broad. I put my arms on his, and we
grasped each other, pulling our bodies together, each squeezing the other
to Jude, who snuggled between us.