I Thought I Knew -- Book Two
The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy
Chapter 19, Part IV
From Justin's viewpoint
I called Billy to see if he could track down Tom and get some answers. No answer. I left him a text message. My stomach was in knots. I thought I might blow chunks any minute.
About 30 minutes later, Billy texted back. “shud i ask him?”
What did he think I wanted him to do? I was getting as irritable as Joe over this whole thing. It was really messing me up. I felt like my whole credibility with Joe, my future working with him and working for him was at risk. I could see everything I had hoped for starting to collapse around me and I didn’t know why.
When Tom finally returned Billy’s calls later that afternoon, his answer was simple. Maybe too simple.
Billy explained it to me when I got home. As Joe had already discovered, Tom wasn’t a student at Billy’s college. Or any other college for that matter. He was only in high school. At least he was a senior. Or said he was.
It seems that when he started to come out to people he knew at his high school, it hadn’t gone that smoothly. I could relate to that. And since he was mostly attracted to older guys, he decided to try hanging around with guys older than him. That led him to the clubs and to the bars near campus that were known to be gay friendly. But he kept getting turned away.
He needed a really good fake ID and lucky for him he already knew a guy who made the best. A friend of his brother’s who worked for the Division of Motor Vehicles. In the drivers license and I.D. department. Making drivers licenses.
It wasn’t cheap and it took a couple of months, but finally Tom got a state driver’s license that said he was 21. It was real. His picture. His address. His driver’s license number. Not a forgery. It would stand up against anything but a check of his age with the DMV’s database. And no bar did that.
But to get it, he not only had to pay through the nose, he had to convince the guy that he could put on a believable performance explaining that he really was just a young looking 21-year-old guy. The DMV guy sure as hell didn’t want to sell Tom the license and then have Tom get busted and turn him in.
So the first time Tom met the guy, the guy had started asking him what he was going to say when he was asked where he worked.
Tom started to explain how he worked in an office in a new job and . . . What job? . . . In a bank . . . What bank?
Tom had gotten flustered. Couldn’t think his story though fast enough. The guy told Tom to get serious and not to come back till he had a good story down.
That’s how he came to start telling the story that he was a 21-year-old college student. His mother was a professor there and so he knew a lot about the college. In truth, he’d practically grown up there. And his brother had gone there. He knew what major to say he was studying. Courses to say had taken. Teachers he’d had.
The address on his driver’s license was his parents’ address, because that’s where he lived. It was faculty housing on campus and to most everyone it would look like a regular campus address. Most likely a dorm.
So that was his story. It was pretty much what he’d told Billy at first. Before he had let on that he wasn’t really 21. But he’d never dropped the rest of the story.
Tom’s parents lived near Harkness Hall. So when Tom needed cover, he’d have guys pick him up and drop him off at the dorm. It was a good story. A good cover. It had fooled Billy. And me.
But after listening to Tom’s explanation, Billy said he completely believed him what he was saying.
“But you completely believed him when he was lying to us before,” I said. I know I sounded way too angry, but I just left my anger hanging out. So what if I was angry. Not so much at Tom. Just angry. At how fucked up my world was getting.
Billy just shrugged. “What can I say? I like him. I believe him. I don’t really see what difference it makes. He said he understood that we wouldn’t be getting together this weekend.”
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I said I’d let him know.”
I didn’t want to call Joe. I had no idea what Joe would believe. Or do. I didn’t want this to be happening.
Assuming Tom’s new story was true, it was pretty innocent. The kid had lied, but that seemed completely understandable to me. What I thought was going to bother Joe the most was that Tom was only 18. How would that look? Joe worried about appearances. I didn’t know what he would say, but I didn’t think his invitation to Tom would still be open.
Billy and I decided to go get a quick dinner before I called Joe. It delayed the inevitable, but gave us a chance to talk. But not much came of it.
Billy thought Joe was hot for young guys and wouldn’t care if Tom was 21 or 18 or 16. Not if Joe was really hot for him. But Billy also thought that the lying would really bother Joe and that it would probably be the end of things. At least for Tom. At least for this weekend. And Billy said that if Tom didn’t go and if I had to go – which I did – that he’d probably stay home with Tom.
Now that pissed me off. And right there in the restaurant over our burgers and fries, Billy and I got in a real argument. I thought it could be the end of us when we started, because it went to the roots of our relationship.
To my surprise, after a minute or two, Billy just went silent. I stopped arguing, too. Waited a minute. Billy had his head down. It looked like he was trying to figure out what to say next. But when he didn’t say anything, I started in with my points again, about loyalty and commitment and if one of us says no.
“Just shut up for a minute and let me think,” Billy finally said. He was pissed off. I fell silent and waited again.
Finally, he looked up at me. “I get it. You’re right. I know that. But it seems so crappy for Tom. He didn’t lie anymore than any of us has lied. It’s part of coming to grips with who you are. Who you want to be. Who you fucking can be! So he’s got some slip of paper that says he’s 21 and he said he goes to college. Big fucking deal! He’s still the same guy. Still my friend.
“But you’re right about this weekend. I should be with you,” Billy continued. “And I will be with you. Tom is a friend. A good friend. No, a fucking great friend! But he isn’t you. So . . .” and that’s where the discussion ended.
When we got home, I called Joe.
I explained what Billy had learned. Joe didn’t sound angry, but he seemed like he was really tense. Like he was trying to hold it all in. I thought this was all still bothering him a lot more than he wanted to let on. He asked some questions, but just little stuff. There were two of his questions that kind of caught me off guard though.
“Did Tom say he was sorry?”
I couldn’t really remember if Billy had said anything like that or not, but I decided just to say, “Yeah. He said he was real sorry.” If it was a lie, and maybe it was, it was better that way.
“Did he seem upset?” Joe had paused when he asked that. And then asked, “Did he seem upset about this weekend? Not coming with us?”
“Well, he just told Billy that he realized he might not be welcome and I think Billy told him he’d let him know. So should Billy call him and tell him it’s off?” I asked. When Joe didn’t answer right away, I said, “Yeah, I guess he should.” More silence from Joe. “I’ll tell Billy.”
With that the conversation ended. Billy called Tom one last time. And a tense evening of futile efforts to study followed. I don’t think either of us slept well that night.
The next morning I was up early to pick up Joe and head for the country house and our meeting with the client. Joe looked as somber as Billy and I had last night. This should have been a great day. Driving my new car. My first. Off to meet a potential new client. My first. Off for a weekend in the country. Again my first.
Instead Joe and I rode for the first hour in almost total silence. Finally, I said just loud enough to be heard over the road noise, “I’m sorry how this turned out.”
“No you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not about you. Not really. Or Tom or Billy or any of you,” Joe said and then he went silent again. I knew he was looking at me. I looked away from the road long enough to see the sadness in his eyes.
Then he started to talk. Not fast, but with hardly a pause as he told me what was bothering him. What had been bothering him.
The Sunday night he had called to ask us to the country was a sort of gift to himself, he said. He said it like he felt bad, or maybe guilty about it. My mind flashed back to that conversation and what mixed messages I had gotten from it. A gift to himself? What did that mean?
I didn’t have to ask. He started talking again. He told me he had just talked to his wife before he called that Sunday. His wife had just told him she was going to be staying in England with her parents a bit longer. What he hadn’t said was that she had decided to go ahead with the divorce they had talked about before she left. This was new. I had no idea he was thinking about divorce.
He said he had felt elated by the news. Free. “At last I could become myself,” he said. “I called to invite you and Billy as a gift to myself. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. I mean it as a great complement. I wanted to finally have my freedom and to celebrate it with the two of you. Like we hadn’t done before. Now I was going to be free.”
I knew he meant that he expected to fuck Billy and me. Or something like that. That with his wife out of the way, he didn’t think there was anything we couldn’t or wouldn’t do. As he talked I realized how little he thought about what limits we had. That seemed sort of . . . well, in a way it seemed sad to me. But I didn’t say a word. I just went on listening as I drove.
“And then you mentioned your friend Tom and I thought it would foul up everything.” He saw Tom as an impediment to his divorce celebration. At least until he met Tom.
It was clear when he talked about Tom and dinner that Wednesday night that he had been touched by our mop-headed, lying friend. “He seemed like the right person for me,” Joe said before lapsing into another long silence.
“I think he’s a great guy,” I finally said. “He didn’t do anything more than any of the rest of us have done. It’s pretty hard to grow up realizing you’re gay and not fall into a life of lies.”
Joe kept quiet for a while and then said, “I missed so much growing up. I never let myself be gay. It just seemed I couldn’t. I guess I always knew, but I kept it hidden. Even from myself.”
His divorce would mean an end to all of that. Apparently his wife knew he was gay. Maybe she’d always known. He didn’t say. The divorce would be a friendly affair. His position with the galleries would remain unchanged. Maybe even be a bit stronger.
But now he could be himself. Live the life he always wanted. And he wanted to recapture some of what he had missed. That, he said, was why he thought he was attracted to younger men. The men he had done his best to ignore when he was their age.
Now he wanted to help them. I think most of what he was saying was about me directly. He wanted to help them have all the things he never had. Never knew existed. “I wanted to share and enjoy their youth and their discovery. Show them the world. Be there when they first experienced all the things I missed. I wanted it to be wonderful. A wonderful world. Our world. ”
He fell silent again.
“And Tom?” I asked.
“And Tom. . . .” he paused and waited until I glanced over to look at him. “Justin, you know I am giving you the world. My world. I thought at first we would share it. But there was already Billy. Then I thought maybe the three of us could share it. I hoped for that anyway. And in many ways, well, you know.” He paused again.
“Almost as soon as I proposed this weekend getaway, I started having second thoughts. I knew I needed to be backing away from . . . well, you know. But I was drawn to you. Or the dream I had of sharing all I had and knew and . . . well I wanted to show you the world. Give you the world.”
But it seemed that Joe had realized he was asking too much of Billy and me. Not that that had stopped him from asking. Not that we hadn’t accepted. He apparently still hoped to enjoy this weekend as he had first imagined it.
“But then came Tom. Like another possibility. And, I hope you don’t take offense, but he seemed to be a better possibility. I always knew that with you I was overstepping. You understand, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“With Tom there was none of that. From the first I was as at ease with him and him with me. No student-teacher. No society watching. No hindrance. No wife. No . . .” his voice trailed off.
“So why did you say he shouldn’t come? Because he lied? Because he’s only 18?” I asked.
“No,” Joe said, “because I lied about my expectations. About my divorce. About, you know, my expectations. I felt like a predator. And when I learned he was only 18, I felt even worse.”
“I don’t really think any of that matters a bit to Tom,” I said. “He really liked you. He really wanted to be with you . . . with us . . . this weekend. I’m pretty sure he even wanted to, well, you know,” I said mimicking Joe’s way of avoiding talking about sex too directly.
With that we got into a hot discussion of Tom and his likes and, well, you know. I let it get pretty graphic and talked about some things I maybe shouldn’t have. But I could see it was turning Joe on. And that’s what I wanted to do.
It wasn’t long until Joe seemed to be back to his old self. Maybe even better than that. He couldn’t stop talking about Tom and his knowledge of poetry, his manner and his looks and his . . .
“Should I call him?” I asked.
“Why would you call him?”
“To invite him to join us after all.”
Joe didn’t say anything. I could tell he was thinking about this.
“Should I call?”
“Sure, go ahead. That’d be great.” Joe’s smile was immense. It barely fit on his face.
When we got to the summerhouse, it was smaller than I had imagined, and more remote. Also more beautiful, and more . . . more everything. It was so beautiful. So nice. So cozy.
It wasn’t long after we got there and were setting up for the client’s arrival that Billy called. It was set. Tom was back on. I hadn’t been able to explain to Billy why the change in plans, but Billy seemed OK with it and he said Tom did too.
The meeting with the client went well enough. He seemed to really like my work. Of course, he thought Billy was a great model and wanted to know all about him. Maybe to meet him. We sidestepped that. At least for the moment.
I think our price was a little high for him, but we agreed to talk some more in the weeks ahead. He showed me pictures of some “models” he might like to have drawn and wanted my opinion. They were all amazingly hot, hung and handsome. The pictures were very professionally done. And very explicit.
The client himself wasn’t that good looking. Maybe 50. He was in good shape, but he had bad skin and thinning hair. A bad combination. I couldn’t help notice as he looked at my work that he was getting hard and not hiding it. He appeared to be well hung from what I could see, but I was a lot more interested in getting a chance to meet his models than to see what he was packing.
Joe and I had a late lunch with him and Joe showed the client and me around the property with its beautiful woods and gardens and fountains. A classy place.
The client had been gone for about an hour. Joe and I had both finished unpacking . . . in our separate rooms. I had just called the restaurant to change the reservation back to four again when we heard a car pull up.
Joe and I headed out to greet it and saw Billy stepping out of the car. His jaw was slack as he looked around in amazement at how beautiful this place was. How perfect.
“This is awesome,” he said as he stepped toward Joe and gave him a big hug.
Tom climbed from the car looking sheepish and a little scared. He looked so vulnerable. And so very young.
Then he seemed to stretch himself out. I thought I could almost hear his spine crackle as he arched his back and flexed his shoulders after the long ride. As he straightened up, he stared at the three of us. A look of self-confidence settled over him. He walked over to Joe and extended his hand. “Thank you so much for accepting my apologies. And thank you even more for welcoming me to your home.”
After a few simple words back and forth about no need for apologies and thanks for understanding, Billy and Tom were being led into the house. For some reason Joe and I were carrying their bags.
I had wondered what Joe was going to do about sleeping arrangements. He had told me to unpack in one of the guestrooms. He had put his things in what served as the master bedroom for his wife’s parents. There was another small guestroom at the end of the hall. Would he tell Tom to put his things in there?
As Billy and Tom stood looking around the living room, taking in their new surroundings, Joe and I stood there like bellhops. Then Joe set Tom’s bag down by the fireplace. He turned to me and said, “Oh, just set that bag over there,” gesturing toward Tom’s bag. “We can sort all that out later.”
Turning back to Tom and Billy he asked, “Can I get anyone a drink?”
Billy and Tom each asked for beer. I joined Joe in a glass of pinot noir.
As I was about to take my first sip, Tom raised his beer and said, “To our host.”
And Joe added, raising his glass, “To a wonderful weekend.”
We all raised our glasses and drank to the toasts. As glasses and bottles were lowered, you could almost hear the tensions flowing out of each of us. Postures, which had been stiff and formal from the moment the car arrived, relaxed. Everyone seemed more casual. Happier.
As Billy and Tom started to tell Joe how beautiful the house and grounds appeared, the driver was suddenly at the door. “Sir, will you be needing me?”
“Perhaps to take us to dinner later,” he said. “I’ll ring when we’re ready but reservations are for 8. We should plan to leave by 7:30.” With that the driver was gone.
“Well, that gives us enough time to look around the place,” Joe said. “Would you like to see the grounds?”
I’d had a short tour of the property around the house earlier with our client. But now I could see how extensive and magnificent the property was. Gardens both formal and rustic. Fountains. A small stream with several little wooden bridges crossing it. A substantial woods with neat and well-marked trails. And a lake.
As we walked, Joe took the lead with Tom by his side. Billy and I were directly behind them. At first Joe was pointing out most everything and telling us all bits of history or lore about the place. But as we started into the woods, his tour guide role diminished and he fell more and more into conversation with Tom.
The longer we walked through these fabulous woods with their towering tress, the more intimate the conversation between Joe and Tom seemed to grow.
Finally we came to the edge of the lake. There was a clearing and a small beach. Three benches looked out over the water.
Joe and Tom walked over to one and stood behind it as Joe pointed out across the lake and said something to Tom we couldn’t hear. Then Joe leaned over and kissed Tom. Just a gentle kiss on the lips. It didn’t linger. But it took me by surprise.
The two then moved around the bench so they could sit and look out at the water and the ducks that were swimming nearby.
Billy and I sat on a bench of our own. From where we sat I could see Joe put his arm around Tom’s waist and Tom lean into Joe. They looked for all the world like a couple.
They didn’t speak. They didn’t move. They just sat. Looking out. Looking content with each other.
So Billy and I sat too. It was beautiful and calm and I should have been completely relaxed. But what seemed to be happening with Joe and Tom left me feeling completely off balance. I could not believe how comfortable our host and friend seemed together. It was wonderful, but so far from what I somehow expected.
After what I guess was like 10 or 15 minutes, Joe said we should be getting back so we could get ready for dinner. Joe and Tom again took the lead. This time walking hand-in-hand. I was glad to see it, but . . . It didn’t seem . . . I guess I just didn’t expect them to relate in this way. I’d never seen Tom like this. I guess I’d expected him to be more . . . Oh, well. I don’t know. That’s just how it looked to me.
When we got back to the house, Joe offered fresh drinks. We all accepted and settled into the overstuffed couches in the living room. Joe and Tom sat, each leaning against the sofa arm on their end. It seemed odd that after they had been so close on the walk they were sitting so far apart.
Then I realized it allowed them to look directly at each other. And they were looking at each other. Grinning like two kids experiencing their first crush. It was kind of cute. Kind of weird.
No one spoke for a minute or two. Then, as if to break the ice, Joe looked from one of us to the other and asked, “So how did you guys get to know each other? Where did you meet?”
It may have seemed an innocent enough question, but what Joe didn’t know was . . .
“We met at a club,” Tom spoke right up. “We have some mutual friends and we – at least me and Billy – were each supposed to meet them at this club.”
“I was working on one of your projects that night,” I offered in explanation for my absence.
From there Tom jumped into a description of the evening, at least as it involved him and Billy. Billy filled in bits of information here and there. I knew Tom was leaving stuff out and hoped he didn’t feel compelled to tell Joe everything. But then he started telling about the dance contest and how he talked Billy into dancing.
When he got to the part where Billy climbed onto the bar in the sheerest of underwear, I was thinking this isn’t gonna be good. But soon I could see Joe’s cock stiffening in his pants. “So you don’t happen to have those underwear on now, do you?” Joe asked Billy, leering at him.
This could easily get out of control, I thought.
“No, I’m commando,” Billy said and quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his cargo shorts and opened them enough to make his point. I wondered where the hell this was going to go. It could be a very wild night. And that could be very good. Or very bad.
Tom and Billy started going back and forth telling their story. Not leaving anything out. It’s such a hot story.
By the time they got to the part where Tom sucked Billy off, Billy was rock hard. He’d opened his shorts and was all but stroking his cock in front of everyone. It wasn’t like everyone in the room hadn’t seen Billy hard and stroking before, but this wasn’t part of our plan. It seemed so out of place. But then so did the story. So did most everything that was happening.
It wasn’t just Billy. Tom and Joe were both rock hard, too. I could tell that easy enough. They weren’t being shy about rubbing their aching cocks through their pants. OK, yeah I was hard too, but I was keeping my cock in my shorts and had hardly touched it. Not like everyone else.
By the time their story was done, Billy was leaking like crazy. I couldn’t see his pre-jizz, but I saw him raise his hand to his mouth at least twice. I knew what that was about. I thought he might be close to cumming. But he didn’t. He just laughed and laughed and worked his hard cock as Tom told about all the guys pawing at him. Trying to touch him and suck him and cum on him.
By the end Billy was holding his throbbing cock by the base of its shaft. Squeezing it. Making it swell and redden. Making it look enormous. As though this somehow helped make more sense of the story and the dancing and all that went with it.
With the story completed, a silence fell over us. Billy stopped playing with his hard cock and made a half-hearted effort to flip the fly of his shorts closed so his cock didn’t show so clearly. But he didn’t button or zip them up.
Joe finally said to Billy, “So did you enjoy that? Being the center of attention?” The look on Joe’s face was lusty and wicked. He was really into the idea of Billy being pawed and licked and touched by all those men. I could tell how much he wished he’d been there.
“Fuck, yeah!” Billy said. And we all laughed.
“I’ve got an idea,” Joe said. I was sure he was going to propose that we all get naked and get to it, but instead he suggested we not go out to dinner, but send the driver to pick it up for us. We could eat in.
I think we all had forgotten about dinner until then. But eating in sounded good.
The directions were given, more drinks were served, and the conversation turned slightly less erotic.
Dinner came soon enough and the driver left it in boxes on the kitchen table, before Joe sent him off to wherever drivers go when they’re done for the night.
We ate. And drank some more. The food was good. The drinks went down easy. We talked and laughed and eventually ended up back where we had begun. Sitting on the sofas.
Well Joe at least was sitting just where he had been before. Tom was stretched out on the sofa. His head in Joe’s lap as Joe stroked his thick brown hair.
“Can I ask you all a very personal question?” Joe asked.
I shrugged like I don’t know. Billy said something like whatever. And Tom arched his neck so he could look up at Joe and said, “Sure. I’m not shy.”
Joe leaned down and kissed Tom on the lips. It was the second time I’d seen him kiss Tom that day. But as he started to straighten up again, Tom wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him back. Tom opened his mouth and seemed to almost suck Joe’s mouth into his own.
I looked at Billy and we exchanged knowing smiles. Billy moved closer to me and let his hand settle in my lap. Right by my cock. The night was getting very interesting again.
When Tom had freed Joe from their kiss, Joe finally tried to ask his question. “So have the three of you . . . you know . . . explored . . . or, I mean . . .” Joe was stumbling trying to find the right words. Apparently not having a clue how to ask what he wanted.
“Yeah,” Tom said very matter of fact. “We have. We’ve become really good friends, if you know what I mean.” And to make his point Tom reached one hand behind his head and gave Joe’s crotch a gentle squeeze. And he didn’t move it away.
“I was just wondering,” Joe said sheepishly.
“Well, stop wondering,” Tom said and turned his head toward Joe’s crotch. He lifted his head enough that he could unbutton and unzip Joe’s pants. He nuzzled his mouth over the obvious mound where Joe semi-hard cock was trapped in his underwear.
Joe seemed flustered at first, but soon let his head fall back as though in a swoon. Meanwhile Tom continued to work his cock through the thin fabric of his briefs. Soon Joe let out a groan that was so deep. So guttural. So sexual. He was off in his own world of sexual bliss as Tom sucked his cock.
Billy and I watched Tom work his magic on Joe. And Billy wrapped his hand around my hardening cock and gave it a squeeze. That wasn’t going to cut it for me. I stood up and unfastened my pants and let them fall to the floor. I pulled Billy up behind me. As he stood, his shorts, which were still unfastened, fell to his ankles. He stepped out of them and the two of us settled back down on our sofa.
We kissed deeply. Our hands explored each other’s bodies. Each other’s hard cocks. On that night, at that time, it was like we were just exploring each other for the first time. The way we had in my bedroom year’s earlier as Billy’s sexual limits melted away. As we learned how to make love to each other. As we learned how to love each other.
Billy’s body felt amazing to me. His smooth skin. His hard cock. His taut nipples. The smell of his armpits. The heft of his nuts. It was all amazing and exciting. I don’t know if I was somehow feeding off the excitement of Joe and Tom being together for the first time or what. But it was special and new for Billy and me. Or at least for me. And it felt to me like Billy was right there with me in this.
I could hear murmuring coming from the sofa. Hear the springs creek and the slurping, sucking noises those two were making.
Eventually I broke from a long and very erotic kiss with Billy and glanced toward our friends. They were in a 69 with Joe on his back and Tom virtually doing push up over him. Raising and lower his hard cock in and out of Joe’s mouth as his head bobbed up and down on Joe’s throbbing cock.
They were beautiful. Two amazingly gorgeous men. Even if they were completely different from each other. Worlds apart. They looked perfect to me just then.
I went back to kissing my Billy. My love. As I kissed him, I moved him so his body was stretched out under mine. Our bodies naked from the waist down. Our aching cocks rubbing against each other. Our pre-jizz flowing so freely. Our tongues entwined. Our minds wrapped around each other’s desires and needs.
We were living through our hard, aching cocks. Feeling with our cocks. Thinking with our cocks. Loving with our cocks. Everything else had fallen away. Become meaningless. For a moment there was just the two of us. So much together we ached.
I had once again forgotten about our friends. Forgotten all about the world around us until . . . until I heard a stifled groan from Joe. Then he cried out, “Oh, yeah, oh god, Ohhhhh!”
I knew he was cumming in Tom’s mouth. I had to look. All I could see was that Tom was pressing his lips into Joe’s pubes. Joe’s cock buried deep in his throat. Tom was moving his head back and forth just a bit as though trying to work Joe’s cock even deeper. I’d had Tom suck my cock. I knew how good it felt. I knew what was like to cum down his throat as he sucked and hummed and worked your cock. Just as he had worked mine.
Joe’s hands were holding Tom’s hips. Holding them up so that Tom’s hard, wet cock was just inches above his mouth. Joe’s tongue, his long elegant tongue, stretched out and licked the length of Tom’s cock. That I saw clearly. And then again. And again. And again.
It was Tom’s turn to groan. I knew what was coming. Billy and I were both caught up in watching this action.
Tom pulled his mouth free of Joe’s cock, which fell limp back onto his stomach. “I’m gonna cum if you do that again,” Tom said to Joe, almost as though he were begging him to do it.
Joe’s mouth opened again. His tongue slowly stretched out like a serpent from its pit. He slowly ran his warm, firm tongue from Tom’s tight nutsack to the tip of his cock. I could see Tom’s cock spasm twice. And then it erupted. Cum splattered Joe’s face. His chin. His chest.
Joe tried to grab Tom’s cock and force it back in his mouth, but instead he only managed to spray his face with more of Tom’s creamy cum. Tom was moaning and cumming and trying to pump his cock back into the Joe’s warm, wet mouth.
He was almost spent by the time he managed it. And Joe’s face was covered with cum. Joe sucked Tom’s cock for a moment or two before Tom pulled free and swiveled around so the two were face-to-face. Kissing and licking and sucking. Swapping cum and enjoying sharing. Being close. Being in love?
I could smell their cum so clearly I could taste it. I had smelled and tasted them both before. Both had enthralled me. Turned me on so fiercely I had lost control when with them. It reminded me of how I had felt with Billy. How I felt with Billy now. Our cocks raging hard. Trapped between us. So excited. So in need.
Finally, Joe turned his head and looked our way. “You weren’t watching us, were you?” he asked with deep concern in his voice.
Billy and I just laughed a little in response. Joe’s face turned bright red. Tom flashed us a thumbs up. And I thought it was time that I give Billy one more kiss so our friends could enjoy themselves further.
As I slid my tongue between Billy’s welcoming lips, I drifted back into my solitude with him. Our aching cocks. Our love. Our need. The smell of our friends’ cum filling my nose. The taste of their cum a vivid memory in my mouth. My boyfriend and true love wrapped around me. All else faded away.
To Be Continued . . .
I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment. And until next week, stay happy. And stay hard!
) as you were dinning out. 
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