Myth Debunked

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lmhsfan
lmhsfan
3 Followers

"Just close your eyes again," Russell suggested. "Pretend I'm Becca. Just start slow and it'll be fine, no prep needed. I was in the Navy, I can take it."

"I can't. I'm not." Ian didn't know what to say until he saw it. Russell's testicles, smooth and tight, swaying gently. "Turn over."

"I don't see how-"

"Shut up and turn over!" Russell quickly complied. "Now stroke it."

Ian kept his eyes locked in place as Russell took himself in hand. A man's ass and back held no appeal for Ian, but a cock, the long, hard instrument of pleasure that it was, that he could appreciate. He followed Russell's movements as he had at the start, mirroring them on himself until Russell began to work himself in earnest. Harder, faster, as though he intended to finish on his own.

Just on the verge of release, Ian stopped and grabbed Russell's legs, halting his movements as well. "I hope you weren't kidding about the prep," he said. "Cause I have no idea what I'm doing." Ian pushed himself against Russell, tentative at first, then harder when he realized the resistance. He timed his thrust perfectly with Russell's eager arch and suddenly his head was in another man's ass. In an attempt not to think about that, he diverted his attention from his own cock to Russell's. And while the reminder of his maleness should have been a turn-off, Russell's light stroking egged him on, willing him to find that same friction.

His hips pushed forward of their own accord, instinctive as breathing. The wetness he was used to wasn't there, but it was tight. So fucking tight. Ian blindly reached into the open drawer at his bedside, pushing aside the box of condoms to find his personal lubricant. He dribbled some on his length as he pulled out, then surprised himself by putting some on Russell as well.

"Set the pace," he told him. "Show me how you like it."

Russell spread the lube over himself slowly, seeming to relish the slickness. Ian followed his example, gripping the base of his cock and stroking along what he could reach. He didn't dare remove himself completely from Russell's body. He didn't think he could push through that barrier again without cumming.

When Russell had wet himself sufficiently, he fisted his hand at the tip of and slowly pushed it down with an iron grip. Ian followed his lead, watching the hand, imagining it was his own. His own hand, his own cock, lubed up and held tight. As Russell slowly increased his pace, Ian's body obeyed, as though his hips were connected to Russell's arm on a string. Up and down. In and out. Russell shifted his hold and yanked hard in one direction, Ian swiveled in response.

"Oh shit!" Russell cried out. "Right there, Ian! Right there!"

Ian found a sock near the bedpost and heedless to its level of cleanliness, reached up and stuffed it into Russell's mouth—where it stayed without argument. As a reward, Ian swiveled again, finding the spot he'd screamed about and pounding it repeatedly.

Ian watched Russell carefully for reaction, not his face, but his groin. When Ian hit the G-spot (he refused to think of a prostate), the cock in front of him twitched. When the cock in front of him twitched, his own got a phantom thrill, adding to the already powerful sensation of the tightest, wettest hole he'd ever had the privilege of fucking. With every twitch, he groaned, feeling closer to the edge, knowing he'd lose it soon, but not before the other one. He wanted to see it explode. He wanted to know the power of making two cocks cum, one without even touching it.

The other cock started to leak, even as his own balls tightened. The two were so in sync, they may well have been one. Ian saw in his periphery Russell clawing the sheets. It would all be over soon, his one and only encounter with another man's dick. Ian slowed down at the realization, savoring, even as Russell bucked in protest. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he'd never do this again. He wouldn't. Not in a million years. So why not draw out this moment? Use it to its full potential.

Even as the idea struck him, Ian resolved to follow through. This was his once-in-a-lifetime, and he was through with thinking. Russell had asked him if he'd ever wished he could suck himself off. Yes, was the answer. Every time he watched Becca suck a Popsicle, lick an ice cream, hell, pop a grape, he wished he could recreate the feel of her mouth, since he couldn't have the real thing. And if he could suck his own dick, he knew what that would feel like... on one end. But what about the other?

Grateful they were both in shape, Ian tilted Russell's hips up, earning a stifled groan and a cock twitch. Wetness seeped from the tip, begging to be tasted, and in one swift act of flexibility, it was. Ian bent down and licked Russell's stomach where most of the wetness had smeared. It was salty and musky, not Ian's favorite taste, but honestly, neither was a woman. Russell shuddered beneath him, but Ian ignored it. He had to if he wanted to finish this.

Bending awkwardly, Ian did the unthinkable and took Russell's head into his mouth, rolled it around on his tongue for a moment, then came back up for air. Russell wriggled, reminding Ian that his hips had stopped moving whilst he explored. Ian moved again, setting a shallow rhythm so that he had plenty of room and ducked back down, taking Russell as far into his mouth as possible. It was better than he'd imagined. Push in, suck hard. Ease out, hollow cheeks. If he timed it just right, it was like he was fucking his own mouth.

Movement became difficult in his prone position, but Russell helped, fucking himself alternately on Ian's cock and into his mouth, clearly straining with all he had to keep going, wanting, like Ian, for this feeling to last forever. All too soon, Ian's body tensed and he knew this was going to be it, there'd be no slowing this one. He rose and grabbed Russell firmly by the hips.

"Cum with me. Cum on me." Russell nodded and aimed his cock at Ian's abdomen. He stroked slowly with one hand while the other massaged his balls, waiting. Ian pulled almost all the way out before slamming home, swiveling his hips to find that G-spot. And when he did, he pulled it back and did it again, and again. His thrusts became erratic, so he pulled himself in deeper and massaged that spot over and over, grinding until he felt a pulse, then an almighty squeeze that hurt almost as much as it pleased him.

It was uncomfortably tight, so tight he thought he might not be physically capable of cumming, but when he looked down and saw the thick globs of cum shooting from the other cock, felt the heat of the puddles on his belly, the orgasm couldn't be stopped.

"OH GODFUCKSHIT DAMNIT RUSSELL BECCA FUCK!"

Ian's hips kept thrusting without him as his brain took a field trip to Pluto. He didn't think he'd ever cum so hard in his life, and doubted he ever would again. He wasn't sure he even wanted to. His body felt like weighted down jelly and his head was clouded with fluff. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to, and he didn't like that vulnerability. He especially resented the fact that Russell seemed to find this hilarious. For a moment Ian wished he'd crushed the fucker under his body weight—the payback would be well worth any discomfort on his end—but all-in-all he was pleased to find that he'd landed safely to one side, though he couldn't even remember pulling out.

"What the fuck are you giggling about?" It had taken Ian some time to regain use of his face muscles, but Russell was still laughing when he did.

"You, my man. I was totally wrong about you."

Ian couldn't help his curiosity. "How so?"

"Honestly, I had you pegged for a fully gay bottom, but you really are a straight guy completely obsessed with cock. Who knew? I thought those were a myth."

"So all that shit about porno and threesomes?"

"Total BS. I've heard people say it before, but I figured it was just their brand of denial. But you're the real deal, dude."

A fist entered Ian's field of vision, as though Russell expected him to reach up and bump it. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Russell sighed and pulled his arm away. "Such a waste. Anyway, lover boy, just give me a second. You fucked me up but good."

Ian nodded, though he wasn't sure Russell could see. In a way it was gratifying to know he'd been able bring someone to the point they couldn't stand up and walk away, even if it was an obnoxious asshole he hoped never to speak with again. He prayed he'd communicated the "one-time only" clearly enough, and that the fucker actually listened. On the plus side, whether Russell stuck around or fell off the face of the planet, he was fairly certain he wouldn't have to be jealous anymore. Becca didn't seem to be Russell's type.

A faint scratching sound from outside caught Ian's attention, followed by a light jingle. He shot up and stared out the still open window. "Oh shit, the cat."

Russell's laughter redoubled at this. He let out a hearty guffaw and the jingling ceased.

"What? Now you've scared it away."

"Ian, dude, are you really that stupid?"

"What?"

"I don't have a cat."

"WHAT? Then what was tha-"

"Ian, I'm home! Ian? Where are you? Is someone else up there?"

"Fuck."

lmhsfan
lmhsfan
3 Followers
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3 Comments
MuskratSamMuskratSamabout 11 years ago
Amazing, twisted...

and VERY good.

psycheunknown1psycheunknown1about 11 years ago
More

This was great! Please write more.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
Funny as hell

You just never know, do you.

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