Reciprocity Ch. 01

"Did you fuck her?"

"No; we were way too drunk."

"Then she doesn't count," Carl paused for a long time as if in thought, and then asked, "How many guys?"

"Four counting you, but since we haven't actually fucked you shouldn't count either."

"Funny," Carl said with a hint of sarcasm and then paused again before continuing, "Who do you like better?"

"What do you mean by 'better'?"

"Was sex better with the guys, or the girls? In general, I mean."

I was not sure where he was going with this or what were the reasons behind his questions, but I could tell that his inquisitiveness was having a sort of therapeutic effect in relaxing him, probably more so than even my massage. I started to rub more oil on his buttocks, and then reached under him and started pulling gently on his testicles.

"I don't know," I finally said in a cavalier manner, "I haven't really thought about it that much."

Carl had raised his ass slightly as I started to gently stroke his hardening shaft with my fingertips. I was still rubbing his buttocks with my other hand but occasionally I would press down on his anus with my thumb.

"You've had to have given it some thought," Carl persisted, his voice starting to get that dreamlike quality one gets right before falling asleep, "Did you find sex better with the guys, or the girls?"

I had my thumb fully within him, and was easily sliding it in and out of his anus. I wrapped my other hand completely around the base of his cock and scrotum and was gently pulling both organs simultaneously. Carl lifted his lower torso even further in the air as a response.

"It depends," I said with a slight laugh.

I was easily shifting between my thumb and two fingers, penetrating him first with one set of digits, and then the other. However, every so often I would momentarily leave my thumb in as I inserted my two fingers, and in this manner I had been able to loosen his sphincter enough so that I could insert three fingers in at least part of the way.

"It depends on what?" he finally asked as he breathed heavily.

"It depends on the person," I said kissing him at the small of the back, and then added, "I think you're ready."

Carl reflexively got up on his knees.

"I think that since this is your first time it would be better if you got on top. That way you can control the amount and rate of penetration," I said as I lay on my back.

Carl straddled me, and slowly lowered himself onto my cock. Even with the extensive massaging of his sphincter it was still a very snug fit. Inch by almost imperceptible inch Carl continued to lower himself, pausing briefly at times to get adjusted to my size, and then he would continue my cock's slow slide into his anus.

Once he had me fully within him, Carl began to slowly lift himself up and down. His eyes were closed, and his breaths came deep but sporadically, punctuated by intermittent bouts of moaning.

Carl was bouncing up and down faster now. He was leaning backwards with his hands behind him and firmly resting on my knees for support, and as such his overarching back thrust his cock far in front of him and danced invitingly before my eyes. I watched in amusement at how his cock would slap down against my stomach or spring upward, back and forth, up and down it would jump like some perverted metronome that was keeping time with Carl's gyrations.

By the look on his face Carl was at that point of erotic bliss. It occurred most often with me during anal sex, and occurs at that point where the prostate is sufficiently stimulated enough to where one loses the full-bladder feeling and instead becomes enveloped in a pervasive euphoric sensation emanating throughout the area of the groin.

The problem with the feeling is that no matter how hard I tried, I could never provide enough anal stimulation to cause ejaculation. I've heard that some men could ejaculate through anal stimulation alone, but I could never achieve that end without, at least, some additional stimulation to my cock. Without the additional stimulation, the overall effect is a constant sensation of being on the verge of coming, but never accomplishing the deed. It was both delightful and maddening. Carl was at this point, and was literally jumping up and down on my cock with an ever more frenzied zeal trying vainly to orgasm.

If only I were flexible enough I could take him in my mouth. That's the ultimate, of course, to have another person suck on your cock while getting fucked in the ass. However, seeing that it was just the two of us and I wasn't limber enough, I just placed my hand in a position so that my thumb would gently stroke the underside of Carl's cock on each of his down-strokes. It was all that was needed.

Carl's orgasm was not as forceful nor contained the volume as his previous ones, but it was no less pleasurable given his reaction, as he continued to slam into me hard on the down strokes while uttering a crescendo of moans and groans; and as the stream of cum subsided Carl slowly lowered himself, and came to rest upon my chest.

"Well, that was fast," I said with a chuckle, "It was hardly worth all my effort at getting you primed."

Carl was still breathing hard, and said in a sheepish tone, "Sorry," deep breath, "It just came up on me," another breath, "but I'm sure you can figure out a way for me to make it up to you."

"Reciprocity is really going to be a bitch for you from now on."

Carl slid off of me and onto the bed. His breathing was starting to come back to normal, "I'm so glad you taught me that word."

"I haven't started teaching you yet," I said with a laugh.

A wry grin crossed Carl's face, "Is that what you are? My teacher?"

I just smiled in answer. We lay in silence for a while, both of us having fallen into our own contemplations. Carl must have been thinking about our prior conversation when I was massaging him because he went back to that track, "So when you told your girlfriends about fucking other guys, they were cool about it?"

"For the most part," I said, "some of them had a problem with it so they broke it off with me, but most were pretty interested in it if not turned on by it. Why?"

"I'm debating whether to tell my fiancée or not."

It was delivered as an off-hand remark as if it was minor bit of information that one had to get out of the way before commenting on the really important material. Unfortunately for Carl, I did not think it was such a minor tidbit.

"What fiancée?" I asked, barely hiding my surprise.

"Mary," Carl said again in an off-handed manner and still unaware of my growing agitation.

"I thought you told me she was just your girlfriend."

Carl finally heard the tension in my voice, and looked at me with surprise, "I did...she is...I mean was, until about a week ago."

"When the fuck were you going to say something?"

Carl still did not understand what was going wrong. "I just did. Why, do you want to come to the wedding?"

"No, you fucking moron, but I would have done things differently if I'd known you were getting married."

"Differently, like what?"

I yelled, "Like maybe I wouldn't have fucked you!"

Carl started to get defensive, "Jesus; what's the big deal? It's not like I am married."

"No, you're almost married, and it's a big deal to me."

Carl tried to brush off my last comment, "I still don't see what your problem is. It's not like you're going to hell or anything."

I looked at him in stunned silence for a moment, and then said with dripping sarcasm, "Well thank you so much for that vote of absolution, Mr. Jesus, I had no idea you were so in tune with the Almighty," and then I added rhetorically, "Religious scruples aside, did it ever occur to you that I might have some personal ethics that I would rather not violate?"

"Sorry," he said meekly, "I didn't think it would be a big deal."

Carl was right, of course, but only in a mealy-mouth, legalese sort of way. He was not married yet, but he had made a commitment to another person and I believe those types of commitments change the dynamic in all other relationships. It's kind of like the guy who fucks the stripper at his bachelor party. Sure, he wasn't legally married, so no harm no foul, right? He still loves his fiancée, and he'll be ready to commit to her and the marriage, but just not for another four hours. Tell your new wife that, 'Honey I just fucked a stripper a couple of hours ago, but it's okay because we weren't married yet and now I'm ready to commit to our marriage,' and we'll see how long it takes you to get her foot out of your ass.

"Are you going to tell her?" I asked.

"Tell her what?"

"That you've been fucking around."

It was Carl's turn to get excited. He looked at me like I had just slapped him up side the head, "Fuck no! What are you, nuts? I'm certainly not going to tell her I was fucking another guy."

I started to laugh. Yeah, shoe's on the other foot now, I thought, and then said aloud, "I guess it's a big deal after all. What happened to this great debate you were having with yourself? Gee, should I tell her or should I not," I ended in a mocking tone.

"That was before I got your reaction. There's no way..."

I cut him off, "That's fucking right you're not telling her, because it changes everything."

"If it changes everything, why do you tell them?"

"Not that," I said in exasperation, "The fact that you entered into a commitment with her, that changes everything."

"Oh, that. I don't think so. We made a pact with each other that we could still see other people when we started dating. I don't think our engagement changes that. What would be worse is if she found out I was boning some guy."

I just shook my head, and said, "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Women can surprise you at almost every turn."

"You think I should tell her, don't you?" he asked with a bit of anxiety.

"That's up to you..."

"But what would you do?" Carl asked, cutting me off.

There was something else bothering him. "I can tell you're trying to get at something, but you're beating it around the bush. Just tell me what's on your mind."

Carl paused for a moment before answering, "I just want to know if you're going to tell her when she gets here on Wednesday?"

No wonder he was worried. "Mary's coming here?"

"Yeah, she's flying in for the long Fourth of July weekend, and I'd rather you not tell her."

I just shook my head. I was bit insulted that he thought I was vindictive enough to rat him out to his fiancée. "Why the fuck would I tell her that?"

Carl got defensive again when he saw that I was getting angry, "I don't know; because of your ethical scruples or whatever the fuck it was that got you so pissed before. I thought you might...I don't know...feel you needed to tell her or something."

I started to laugh at Carl's bumbling way of explaining himself. One thing for sure was that I could not stay mad at the guy no matter how hard I tried. I started to tease him, "Tell her what, how good you sucked on my pole? You don't want me telling your girlfriend that you like it when I fuck you in your tight little hynnie? You don't think she'd want to watch as I..."

Carl started to laugh. "Shut up, man. Don't even joke about it."

"No, I'm not going to tell her. My ethics are my own. I don't impose them or my sense of morality on others."

Carl audibly sighed in relief, "Thank you. Still friends?"

"Yes," I said as I got off the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to take a shower."

I was just about to the bathroom when I heard Carl ask, "Can I join you?"

My ethics are my own, I had said, and so was my sense of morality; and that was the rub. That is why I got so mad earlier. Carl inadvertently had put me face-to-face with those ethics, which were no kids and no married people. Once I found out Carl was planning on getting married it was clear what my answer should have been. He should have become persona non-grata. I thought about his request, and what it would mean. I thought about how I should answer in keeping with my ethical side. Then I thought about spending the rest of the summer alone and celibate.

"Absolutely," I said, leaving my ethics on the bathroom floor.