Mike, Helen, and Hannah

Slowly she stilled, and then she put both hands on my head while breathing hard, and pressed my face into her open cunt while breathing over and over, slowly and more quietly, "MMMMMM! mmmmm! mmmm. mm."

I could barely breath pressed against Hannah's hairy vagina opening and pussy lips, but that in it's own twisted way was hot, and my whole face was now coated with Hannah's juices and scent.

But then Hannah pulled my head up to her, and I got out of that uncomfortable position and lay up next to her and held her.

And to my shock, Hannah was quietly crying, with tears leaking out of both of her eyes.

To my look of alarm, Hannah smiled and said, "Don't worry! It was just so intense. This happens to me sometimes. Thank you, my hard working man, for making me feel so good. Thank you."

She held me to her, and I held her.

A somewhat silly thought crossed my mind: Maybe Hannah loves me now—at least somewhat?

I was lost in that reverie for a few minutes, as I lay in a heavenly way in Hannah's arms, and she lay in mine.

But then Helen interrupted and said: "Ok, Ben. It's finally your turn. Let's just let Hannah rest for a bit."

Helen pulled me up out of the bed, and then had me sit on the edge of it.

After all this time, Helen was still dressed in jeans and a t-shirt—and apparently she wasn't going to strip for this.

But that didn't matter much for what I got next—an amazing blow job.

Helen knelt down before me and first looked at my cock with her beautiful face as if she were looking at a beautiful work of art. I think this was an act. But I didn't care. Who would?

Then Helen took one hand and very gently cupped and cradled my balls. She was super gently massaging my testicles with her hand as if they were fragile and wonderful treasures,

After all this my penis was sort of hard, but not yet fully hard. But then she put it in her beautiful mouth and nursed on it till it quickly grew to full length.

Then, she just cradled my cock head in her mouth gently, licking the head just a little, while her one hand gently but firmly massaged up and down my now-wet shaft, and the other still cradled my balls.

As she held just my cock head delicately in her mouth she looked up at me with her pretty blue eyes. She blinked seductively, and nodded as if to say, "I'm ready for you. Any time."

Helen's face was so angelic looking—which was so incongruous with my cock in her mouth. But somehow that made me even more lustful.

I wanted to cream into that beautiful face.

Her tongue licked delicately around my swollen head as her hand continued to milk me like a huge cow udder, harder and harder.

I could feel my sperm finally rising up for release, like a sweet, impossibly beautiful jeweled treasure.

Finally, I couldn't hold it back another second.

"Helen!" I said, as started to shoot my load into her mouth.

"UUUH!" Suddenly I involuntarily bucked against her face as my cum was shooting on her tongue.

"uh!"

I then pulled her head with my hands closer, so her mouth was a little more on my penis as it continued to pulse and shoot in her mouth.

She somehow was still slightly smiling as she looked up at me as she took all of my load into her now slightly bulging mouth.

She then started slowly pulling my cock out of her mouth, but she made sure to get every last drop before she separated.

Unlike Hannah, however, she didn't swallow. Instead she picked up a nearby empty wine glass and spit my cum into it.

The glass had pool of white jism at the bottom of it when she was done.

****

The next day I was in Mike's room, which is slightly larger and rather neater than Hannah's. He had various music and art posters around his walls. And his bedspread, pillows and throw carpets were always very tasteful, clean and tidy.

Like the stereotype of some gay guys, Mike had good taste and a developed aesthetic sense. Hannah did too, in her own way, but....Well, it wasn't that either's taste was better or worse—but just different.

Mike and I were both sitting on nice chairs with his little antique table between us, having a glass of his parents' really good red wine this time. They parents were, as I mentioned, out of town at a medical conference.

We sipped this rich and mellow Merlot, and we tried to talk about the aftermath of what had happened. You might be saying to yourself that all of us were decadent, upper-middle class brats, amoral and over-sexed—and shamelessly mooching. True on all counts. No defense offered.

I had actually suggested the wine to try to break the ice with Mike that afternoon, to try to make up with him, and then see what—if anything—might happen next. Hannah and Helen had promised that they wouldn't be in the house to let us try develop what might develop—and indeed, they were nowhere around.

Let me first briefly describe Mike. Like me, he has dark hair, but at almost six feet he's slightly taller than I am, and slightly more muscled—because he actually works out. But he's still slender in that teenage guy way. His face is pretty, and almost angelic at times—which is just part of his face and bone structure, but which he emphasizes by careful grooming and sometimes wearing a very light amount of make-up.

Today Mike seemed polite but a little cold when we started hanging out—not the normal, natural feeling of camaraderie which for me sometimes had become almost a buddy action picture vibe that I felt like we normally had.

Clearly me having sex with Hannah and Helen had changed my relationship with Mike—perhaps forever, and not for the better.

He came right out and said what was on his mind:

"Ben, let me just start by saying I've heard about the sick plan those bitches came up with, and I don't think I want any part of it."

"Oh," I said, and then took a big gulp from my glass of wine. He took a more delicate draw on his wine, studying me.

Clearly this was going to be awkward—if not impossible—on both sides.

I was about to give up, but then—and I know you'll think I'm a bad person for this—but I realized how much I wanted to lose my virginity to Hannah—and if fucking Helen could be thrown in that sounded hot too.

And if the only way that could happen....

I took another swallow of my wine, this time trying to be more elegant like Mike, but clearly trying to get some liquid courage.

I felt like the truth was the best thing, and finally said,

"But Mike, what if I really wanted to...try to fool around with you?"

"Do you?" Mike said, sounding skeptical.

"I've never hidden that I'm straight, But, I have to admit, sometimes when we hug and I feel you....."

"Yes?" Mike said.

"I've felt that you're kind of excited, and it kind of turns me on too."

"Does it?" Mike laughed—and also blushed at the same.

Then he added, more seriously, "I'm sorry I can't hide my feelings for you. I've tried to fight it, knowing there's almost no hope. But you just happen to be my 'type'."

I swallowed at one go the rest of my first glass of wine, and then poured myself another big glass and took a another long draw.

Mike raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, waiting for me to go on.

Finally, I managed to say, "Actually, for a while now I've been curious to see your...."

Then I suddenly I didn't quite know if I could say it. Probably this was the wrong approach and he would—what?—be insulted? or even slap my face like an affronted woman in those old Hollywood movies that he loved and had gotten me into?

"Go on," Mike said, and his smile now was actually amused and encouraging. He added, "I think you can say it."

"If you'd let me," I said slowly, "I think I'd like to see your....penis," Somehow it was tough to get that last word out.

"Well," Mike said, still somewhat amused, "I almost think you're telling the truth."

"I am!" I said, a little too enthusiastically. The wine was hitting me now, and I realized I did really want to at least see his cock. The drawing Hannah had shown me of Mike's uncut soft cock was impressive. And so what might it be like when....

Mike then said, in a significant way, "You know, there is at least one big difference between me and Hannah and Helen when it comes to you,"

"You're a man and they're women!" I said, laughing at the obviousness of it.

That was a mistake.

Mike looked hurt, but seemed to force himself to go on, "Yes, that of course, but perhaps the bigger difference is that I actually love you—and they don't."

That hit.

"Yeah, well," I sighed, "what a twisted world we live in...."

I didn't know where to go from there, and I was starting to get depressed even with the buzz of the wine.

"But because I love you," Mike said, slowly, and again with significance, "I'd do almost anything for you. All you have to do is ask."

I looked at him, studying his brown eyes. It took half a minute for that to sink in.

"Really?" I said, somewhat amazed.

"Really," he said, now looking a strange mixture between amused, worried, and somehow longing.

Now it was Mike's turn to suddenly drain the rest of his first wine glass. He then poured the rest of the bottle in for his second glass—which wasn't quite as big as my second glass.

And then he surprised me by looking at me and draining most of the glass down in two long draws.

"Well!" I said, and laughed nervously—and Mike laughed too.

I still had trouble getting the words out, and it all seemed so awkward and strange, but after a few seconds I said, "May I see your...cock?"

"Yes," Mike said, "all you ever had to do is ask—or just do it without words."

Mike stood up. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a short sleeve polo shirt.

Then Mike added, "But if you really want it, you're going to have to get it out yourself."

"Okay," I said, laughing again a little nervously. I got up and walked over to him. I was a little tipsy, and on impulse I gave him a little peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, Ben," Mike said, rather formally.

I then tried to unbutton his Levi's from above, but this was more difficult than I thought it would be.

After a few seconds, Mike smiled and said, "I'm not sure, but I think it might work better if you were on your knees."

I laughed, and then got down on my knees in front of Mike's crotch.

"You're right," I said, laughing again a little, as from this position I was able to unbutton his jeans.

"When I fantasized about us," Mike said, and I looked up at him before going on, "I always thought it was going to be the other way around—with me on my knees in front of you."

He seemed serious, but tried to encourage me by smiling and adding, "But I'll take what I can get."

"Ok then," I said, laughing a little out of nervousness, and to try to keep it light.

And then I unzipped his jeans, which was impossible to do without feeling a little bit his cock behind in his underwear.

He helped me get his jeans all the way off, and then he even stripped off his polo shirt.

And now, since he's already been barefoot, except for his dark purple gourmet briefs with his package, Mike was nude.

It was a moment of truth for both of us.

But clearly there was no backing out now, even though I thought of that, I'm ashamed to say. I'm still think of myself mostly straight, even if this experience, as you're about to read, did expand my mind and sexuality in ways I didn't expect.

"I've kind of got performance anxiety," Mike said, clearly anxious, "I'm not actually...."

"That's ok," I said, kindly, "I completely know the feeling."

I put my hands on both sides of his elastic and gave him one last chance to back out, but tried to make it into a joke by saying:

"Simon may I?"

Mike replied back, solemnly, "Yes you may, Ben"

And so, kneeling right in front of Mike's crotch, I lifted his briefs out and down in one swift motion—

And his uncut semi-erect penis bounced out and touched my cheek—and I could feel its warmth.

I couldn't help myself from flinching back just a little, because, oh my god—Mike's cock was definitely bigger than mine—maybe an inch and a half bigger.

But I didn't want him to think I was recoiling in disgust or anything—it was more like awe and surprise.

Before I got it out, I wasn't sure If I was going to touch his dick, at least not right away, but since it was already touching me—I could still feel his cock's warmth resting against my face—I decided to take things in hand right away.

And so, I intentionally smiled, and then took hold of his near-monster cock in both of my hands and tried to think of something nice to say.

But all that came out was the obvious: "Wow. You are really big."

"I know," Mike said, smiling, but also looking shy. And then he added, "Actually, most of the time I wish I weren't quite so big."

I also now noticed that he was completely shaved, which gave an almost streamlined look to his penis and his large ball sack.

At this point I was pretty tipsy, which was lowering my inhibitions, but also I was to my shock genuinely turned on by this very warm slab of man meat in my hands.

My own smaller cock started stiffening immediately in my jeans.

"I love it!" I said after a few seconds, trying to make him feel attractive rather than self-conscious.

Love was maybe too strong a word, but to my surprise I did like it a lot.

What most fascinated me about Mike's cock, beyond it's length and girth—and it was also thicker than mine—was that his head was encased in skin. But I could still see the clear outlines of his large almost snake-like head beneath that skin.

The skin stretched over the head opened at the end in a slightly loose cone of cock skin with an O-shaped opening.

As I looked at it and felt it, I realized now that I'd had no plans beyond getting his cock out, which seemed stupid.

Now that I had this veiny, thick, and very warm white snake in my hands, not fully erect so it was bent down kind of like a banana in that position—and almost that size—I realized I had to do something.

And so, without asking him, and suddenly on impulse, I gently lifted Mike's warm penis into my mouth to see how much I could fit inside.

As I was stuffing my mouth full of Mike's warm and thick man meat snake, I suddenly and involuntary flashed back to a porno video I'd seen a few months before.

Like almost all guys, I suppose, I look at porn sometimes when massaging my meat. And this particular video that I happened to click on showed a young woman about to give a young guy a blow job.

What she seemingly didn't know as she was undoing his pants was that this average looking guy had a way above average cock. From the video it seemed even larger than Mike's, but the look on the woman's face was maybe a little like mine when I pulled down Mike's underwear.

She looked at his cock amazed, almost like she couldn't believe it. And then she was trying to take as much of it as she could into her mouth—and her mouth bulged with the thickness and length of it—and eventually her eyes bulged a little too as she tried to take as much of it as possible in.

The video was hot, and yet maybe also a little bit horrifying at the same time? But that slightly horrifying part was sort of what made it hot, if that makes sense.

Anyway, now I was feeling for the first time in my life what it was like to have a man's penis in my mouth—and it was weird and yet arousing at the same time.

There was something almost amazing about having this flesh of sexual desire in my mouth, and I started gently sucking on it, while at the same time licking around Mike's skin-encased head with my tongue.

"Oh, Ben, that feels so good," Mike said, in almost a whisper.

And so I kept doing it, and now Mike's man meat was growing to full erection, and I had to shift my position with it at it angled upward and got larger and even a little thicker.

Since I could only fit what seemed like half of his cock, although before it had grown I'd gotten most of it slick, I started gently massaging the shaft in a milking motion, as Helen did for me, and then, again like Helen, I very gently cradled his ball sack with my other hand, and massaged his balls ever so gently.

"Mmmmmm!" Mike said, somewhat breathlessly, "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

After a few more seconds, rightly or wrongly, I separated myself out to answer—and breath—"No," I said, "but I know what I like!"

"You know, Ben, I could give you so much pleasure too—and I hope you'll let me."

"Let me think about it," I smiled and laughed, still a little nervously, but I first want to see if I can do this."

"Okay, Ben, if you want to," Mike said.

During this little exchange I was looking back and forth between Mike face and his now fully erect cock.

His erect penis was indeed magnificent—and I have to admit I was quite curious about how long it actually was when hard.

"Mike," I then got myself to say, "How big are you, exactly?"

Mike smiled, but I feel like I'd lost a little point with him, which he confirmed when he said, "You men and your obsession with size...."

But he looked more amused than anything, and walked over to his desk—with his upright member swinging back and forth slightly as he did it—and picked up a ruler.

Then he walked back to me with that third leg, or one eyed snake, still doing a little bit of a dance back and forth, and handed the ruler to me.

"Go ahead," Mike said, tolerantly.

I took the ruler and put it up next to the base of his shaft. Going all the way to the snake head it was seven and a half inches.

In other words, it wasn't super human or truly monstrous or anything, but it was a full inch bigger than mine, and since it was also thicker, that made a difference that was more than the length alone.

Then, since I was tipsy and my inhibitions were down, I blurted out: "Can I take a picture?"

Mike raised his eyebrows and said, "That bitch Helen has totally corrupted you. But I heard she took video and dozens of pictures of your dick yesterday—as Helen made her beautiful drawing, which I saw. And so at this point I suppose I should be insulted if you didn't have a visual souvenir of my dick too. Maybe looking at it will warm you up on cold nights?"

And so I got out my phone and took three pix of his dick—one with the ruler next to it, I'm ashamed to say, one side view, and one top view.

And as I got to the top view I saw the same thing that Helen had—at the tip of the opening—and now I should say that his skin had pulled down a little bit because of his erection, and the top of his head was now visible—there was a clear bit of precum.

Remembering how much I liked it when Helen licked and swallowed my precum, I braced myself—since I'd never tasted my own cum or precum before—and got down on my knees and again swallowed his head

I then started licking around it gently to clean it with my tongue. And to my surprise, his precum tasted almost sweet.

"Oh, Ben," Mike said again, "that feels so good. But you don't have to do this. If you want I could try to give you some pleasure—I really think I could!"

I separated myself off to say quickly, "Maybe later. But right now I want to do this. I feel like if I don't do it now it might never happen. And I want to see if I can make you cum in my mouth."

"Really?" Mike said, "You don't need to do that, I—"

But at that I plunged my mouth back over the top of his dick, trying to use all the techniques I'd learned from Hannah and Helen about how to give a good blow job.

I cradled his balls again with one hand, ever so gently supporting and massaging them, while with my other hand I milked his shaft—making sure it was also slick with a little saliva so that the friction was pleasurable, and all the while with my mouth I continually nursed on and licked to top of his dick.