Support Group Sex

With both said that sounded even riskier now than before he tapped on the window, and maybe we should go to Bruce's or my house.

Barry smiled, "Do you guys even remember where I used to work before I retired?"

I said, "Holy shit, right!"

Bruce looked confused, and then the lights went on. Barry had been deputy superintendent of the park until he'd retired at 55 to take care of his wife. He had retired with 30 years and was drawing a federal pension. Barry had worked at the park for 14 years.

"I know a great place about 200 yards from here."

We both got out of the car and followed him. Bruce gave me a look like 'are you sure about this?' I gave him a shrug and a 'let's see and find out' glance.

He smiled.

Barry led us through trees and the occasional underbrush into a small clearing occupied by a log cabin. There was no door on the doorway and and only one window that had glass and wasn't boarded up. The floor was littered with cigarette butts, the paltry remains of joints and a few beer cans.

"Some of us used to sneak off here for breaks," Barry said, "But I'm pretty sure no one comes by here much any more. Since they built the new equipment shed, I think all the smokers and tokers hang out there."

In one corner was a stack of old, vinyl covered exercise mats. The vinyl was dry and cracked at some of the edges.

"We used to take cat naps on these things," Barry said as he threw two to the floor.

I looked at Bruce and then at Barry, and started to strip.

"Fuck, yeah," Barry muttered.

Soon, I was naked and kneeling on the mat. Bruce unzipped step forward and offered me his cock again. The cock-lust I had earlier returned with extra energy. Having Barry watch me sink to my knees to please another man was the source of that energy. Being watched in my submission is libido trigger for me.

For his part, Barry pulled his cock through his fly and began stroking himself. His cut cock was about the same length as Bruce's but his girth was what impressed me most. It was like a stout and potent nightstick.

Bruce was quiet until we both heard Barry mutter "cocksucking slut." Bruce tested the waters.

"Come on, Tommy. Show Barry how much you love my cock."

I moaned in response, and Barry upped his volume and said out-loud, "I never even guessed you were a closet faggot, Tommy. Is that what you are?"

I just kept sucking, but Bruce was getting into it, too. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and slapped my face with it.

"Answer the man, slut."

I looked at Barry right in the eyes and said, "Yes, I am a cocksucking faggot."

Barry said, "Oh, Jesus, that's so kinky, so good." He started stroking his own rod more vigorously.

Barry looked at Bruce and said, "Man, I wish we had some lube so we could spit-roast him."

I kept sucking Bruce without comment, but my own erection twitched in response, unseen by both of them.

"That's a fucking hot idea, Barry," Bruce said. "Let's make that happen soon. Until then, why don't you come over here and try out Tommy's mouth for yourself."

Barry leaped at the chance. His crotch has a stronger smell, redolent and musky. I brushed my face and cheeks against his cock and balls, reveling in the contact. That's when there was a flash from Bruce's smart phone camera.

"Yeah, man, I had to get a shot of that for my spank bank."

Barry chuckled, but the image made me a little nervous.

"If you don't want those photos on the internet, Tommy, you better get to sucking my cock," Barry said.

Bruce said not to worry, but in truth, I have to admit the risk of humiliation turned me on, the thought of people seeing me like this.

God, Barry was thick. The width of his dick forced me to widen my lips and stretch my jaw even more than with Bruce. I thought of my mouth as a pussy. I thought of me as a pussy, a vessel for the penises of other men. I imagined myself feeding on their pre-cum and ultimately on their semen. Their seed would be potent with masculine life force and I NEEDED it.

Barry thrust in and out of my mouth pussy and I struggled to keep up. I managed to maintain the pace well enough to refrain from vomiting, but I saw later from the photos that Bruce continued to take that my face was red with exertion and oxygen deprivation. Drool dripped from my lips. Lust was making a mess of me.

Bruce pushed Barry to the side and reclaimed his spot.

"That's it, Tommy," he said. "Suck my cock. Suck Barry's cock. We're going to make you into our little faggot slave. Is that what you want?"

I moaned and nodded, bobbing my head on his cock.

"Tell me you want our cum, Tommy."

"I want your cum," I gasped. "I want yours and Barry's and all the cum I can find, please."

Barry said, "Goddamn, he is one desperate bitch. Are you hungry for it, bitch?"

I told him yes.

"Are you going to be our bitch now, Tommy? Really? Are you going to suck us every day if we ask?"

I told him yes.

"Then kiss our feet, Tommy."

I was humiliated, truly. I thought Bruce was showing off for Barry by making this power play. I almost started to rise from my knees and refuse, assert my independence and standard conception of masculinity, but even as a part of me wanted to I found myself kissing their feet. They had silently removed their shoes. My lips touched the skin of those sweaty, newly naked feet, and their scents were strong with their pheromones, not just their perspiration and funk. My cock was painfully erect, like blue steel.

The sight of my submission brought Barry near the brink of climax. I heard him mutter, "Cock slave... our cock slave" then descend into moans and groans.

After kissing the tops of both men's feet, I raised my head. That's when Barry stepped forward to put his cock right in my face and spewed his seed onto it. I felt its warmth like it was hot with sizzle and lust. I smelled its sharp scent. Although I closed my eyes so it didn't drip into them, I almost felt like I was closing them in a prayer of thanks. To have this life-creating fluid on my face was like a christening, a transformation and a relief of the last few months spent in grief and confrontation with mortality.

"Yeah, that's the ticket, Barry," I heard Bruce exclaim. I felt his index wipe the drop of Barry's cum away from my eyelids as he ordered me to look up. He pushed his finger into my mouth as I did and licked his finger clean. Barry's taste was different from Bruce's, cheesy. I don't know how to describe it.

Bruce told me to give his cock another suck as he pushed the head of his penis into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around it, tasting the sweet precum. I felt the head of his cock swell even more and Bruce pulled out, shooting ropes of cum onto my face with Barry's. My eyes again were closed.

Once Barry's gasps and moans of release were over. He proceed to rub his softening cock on my face, smearing his cum and Barry's until my face was a virtual mask of semen.

Barry said, "Wow, look at Tommy the Cocksucker. I sure as fuck didn't wake up this morning thinking I would see this. He really, really loves cock."

That did it. It had never happened to me before in my life and only handful of times since, but Barry saying that, the scents from my semen mask and the whole power dynamic and scene made me cum without touching my cock. It remains my biggest load ever, ropes of it shot multiple times from my penis, covering my thighs and some of the ground in front of me.

All three of us were stunned by it. I didn't black out but everything did go a little gray for a few seconds and I swooned. Rather than risk falling over, I lied down on the rough, dirty mat, gasping for air.

Bruce and Barry engaged in a conversation of which I was barely aware. The sounds of their words were indistinct murmurs. I'm not sure how much time had elapsed when Bruce helped me to my feet to get dressed. By the time I was fully dressed my mind had cleared. As we returned to Bruce's car and got in, I noticed Barry's vehicle was already absent from the parking lot.

"Wow, that was intense," Bruce said.

"Actually, it was in a cabin," I dad-joked.

Bruce looked mildly confused then burst into laughter. That seemed to break the silence and a conversation ensued about what had happened. We both agreed that the inclusion of Barry was a good idea, that we wanted to keep doing this, that it was helping with recovery from our losses.

Bruce offered me a wet nap from a box in his car. I took it but didn't wipe my face clean. Surprisingly, my libido still burned, and I think the mask was fueling it. I already had decided to rub another one out when I got home. I did.

Over the next month, I hooked up again with Barry once and Bruce twice. Both times it was just me sucking them off separately. Neither one of them mentioned anal sex again, which surprised and disappointed me.

At the end of my second liaison with Bruce, he told me he wanted to put together a birthday party for me. That surprised me. I had told him during a casual conversation that I had one coming up, but I didn't have any special plans to do anything other than to take the day off from work that Friday. Gently, I pushed back, but Bruce countered that the gathering would be low key -- Barry, Ken -- the group leader, and one or two of Bruce's friends he said I should meet. I couldn't think of a good reason to object further, so I acquiesced.

Bruce did tell me that after the party, he planned to pop my anal cherry, and that I should prep. When I asked, he said with a smile that he had been waiting for my birthday so it would be easy for me to remember it in future years.

So that's what I did. I went to Kinkster in Central City and bought a prep kit that purported on the packaging to have everything I would need to 'optimize' my 'anal experience.' It contained an douchebag to hang in the shower, a solution for that, a butt plug to wear and a series of dilators and lubes.

All on my own, I decided to do something else. I shaved all my body hair. Although I had never been especially hirsute, I had chest hair and of course thick hair in my pubes, armpit, legs and arms. I used clippers where it was thickest, then cream and a blade. The end result was that apart from my head hair and eyebrows, I was completely smooth.

Although cross-dressing was not a kink of mine, I enjoyed the feel of it. I felt vulnerable and somehow less of a man, some new kind of man; a beta bitch, I guess. My cock was hard as stone as I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror. Grabbing some lube, I kneeled there in front of the mirror and began stroking my cock.

Out loud, I called myself names -- faggot, cocksucker, beta, bitch, slut. I told myself that I was going to get fucked soon. I brought myself to the edge and stopped. I did that two more times. Getting up to put laundry in the dryer, back to another edge, and then starting the dishwasher and checking that day's mail that had dropped through the door slot. This time, I couldn't hold back and I came onto a dark blue saucer. There was my cum, visible in white dollops, ropes of it. Looking myself in the eyes, I watched myself act like a total cockpig and lick it up. I swallowed.

Next, I started playing with the kit and going through the steps of shaping my asshole into a real manpussy and just getting used to the feel of having dildoes of different sizes in my ass. I edged in the morning every day. Each day it became more and more difficult to restrain myself from cumming. I let myself cum every third day. The more I tortured myself the more eager I was for my birthday to arrive.

The birthday celebration was ordinary but fun. It was the first time in a long time since anyone had done anything for my birthday other than Diedre taking me out to dinner and fucking me.

I met Bruce's friends whom he'd met online recently. It was the first time he had met them in person. We had filet mignon that Bruce had grilled, new potatoes and spinach, all of it delicious. Bruce even had a cake with candles to blow out and make a wish on. By 9 o'clock, folks started filtering out -- Ken and the two new guys.

Only a few minutes after the guests left, Barry and Bruce told me to strip. I did.

"Jesus, what happened to your body hair," Barry said.

Bruce smiled and said, "You look even more like a little bitch." I blushed as my dick stiffened.

Barry said, "We have a couple of surprises for you. First, get on your knees."

What happened next was a surprise. Neither Barry nor Bruce whipped out their dicks. Instead, Barry pulled a leather collar out of his back pocket and held it up in front of my eyes by two fingers. I could make out the words 'Property of Bruce and Barry.'

Bruce said, "You have a choice here, Tommy. You can end things right here and walk out of here with no questions from us. Or, you can agree to be our bitch until your next birthday. It'll be a one year contract with the two of us, and we'll spell everything out in writing later."

It took me a little less than a minute to decide.

I simply said, "Yes."

"Hell, yeah," Barry said. He and Bruce high-fived each other and Bruce placed the collar around my neck and then locked it with a tiny padlock.

"Well, Tommy, since you have consented to being our slave for the next year, we're going to put you to work."

He clipped a leash to my collar and pulled me up. Barry and Bruce led me to the attached garage where I saw a pipe and drape set up and a padded bench that later I would learn Barry had bought and Bruce had modified. It was wider than a standard workout bench but narrower than a twin bed. What made it useful was its stability and flexibility in tilting. The "butt bench" as it came to be known among the three of us, even had indentations for the knees and feet of the fuckee and a knee rest for the fucker.

"Well, first you're going to get fucked, Tommy," Bruce said. "Get on the bench on all fours, bitch."

Barry laughed, "Man, I cannot wait to feel that tight, virgin ass around my dick."

Bruce chuckled, "Me too, I don't know whose celebration this is, Barry."

As they exchanged self-satisfied anticipation, I climbed on to the bench. When I did, Bruce reached under me to grab my cock, but it wasn't intentionally erotic. Instead, he had the manner of a rancher checking a piece of livestock, as though he was sizing me up for purchase. I sensed him consulting with Barry, and then felt him reach under again. He squatted as he bound my cock in latex straps. I felt both constrained, more aroused, even harder and now incapable of cumming.

Next, Bruce told me to pull my legs forward into what would have been a squatting position if I had been vertical. Next, Bruce inserted a vinyl coated metal rod behind my knees to hold them in position then fixed it in place to another rod in the undercarriage of the butt bench. Finally he locked both in place and pushed me head down. I could feel my asshole gape.

Once that was locked into place, he tilted the bench board slightly down. My ass was the highest point of my body and I could feel my asshole gape.

That was when Barry pulled my butt plug spreader out, and began squirting lube onto my anus. I heard him lubing up his thick meat stick.

"I won the coin toss, Tommy, so I am going to be one who pops your cherry," Barry said.

Bruce said, "Lucky bastard."

Barry and Bruce briefly discussed if I was ready. Barry was circling my anus with his fingers, teasing and assessing at the same time.

"I wouldn't have thought it, man, but I think he's gaped enough to try."

Bruce assented, and I felt the round, thick head of Barry's cock push against my opening. He met some initial resistance and I may have grunted, but it slowly sunk in. All the prep and following instructions was paying off.

Without lube but using his copious load of precum, Bruce was stroking and playing with his cock and balls as he watched Barry sink his meat stick into my ass. I groaned but did not protest.

"God, this is hot," Bruce said. "Tommy, you truly are our bitch now. That cock is turning your asshole into a nice, hot, wet mancunt."

What I was feeling and thinking was complex.

I'm a bitch... I'm a bitch?! I wondered if this would be as close as I would ever come to knowing how a woman feels being penetrated. It took some time before Barry bottomed out. I could feel his wiry pubes against the cheeks of my ass, and I was stretched to the max.

"Do you want to be our woman, Tommy? Do you want to be our slut?" Barry asked in my ear.

I moaned a response.

"Shut the fuck up, Tommy," Bruce said as he pushed his cock into my mouth and laughed. "Don't worry, Tommy. We aren't going to doll you up and make you a tranny. I know that's not a kink of yours, but you are going to be just as good as having a live-in whore aren't you? You're going to make yourself available when we need to dump some cum."

I moaned again, but this time with his cock in my mouth.

Barry was short stroking with his shaft still thoroughly buried in me. Getting off on the friction but keeping me stretched for the most part. Later, he explained he was preparing me for a rougher, faster pace.

Sucking Bruce's cock at the same time kicked it up another notch. I imagined a true spitroast, a cock going through me ass to mouth. Smelling their sweat, balls and all, was an aphrodisiac. I started sucking Bruce harder and faster and hungrier as he took an adjustable stool and brought himself forward to me head. The angle pointed me down into his lap. Bruce then fed me his cock again.

I was desperate for all that cock, so horny. I started squeezing and, as much as the position allowed me to, humping back onto Barry's dick.

The air became thick with the smells of male sex. The sounds of my slurping and ass fucking were punctuated by the occasional, "Oh, yeah" and "Fuck yeah" from Barry and Bruce.

I loved it so much. How could I have gone so long without it. Maybe because I never had sex with a man during our marriage, being a slut for Barry and Bruce was a callback more to my college years and it allowed me to lose myself in those memories and rekindle new experiences in the place of my muscle memories of Deidre. Their emphasis my 'feminine' submissive role added to the escape from grief.

Where was my mind when it happened? When I knew I was theirs to use? I think I was in what I later learned was subspace -- that sweet psychological state of being simultaneously aroused beyond belief and yet serene and passive, accepting of almost every sensation.

Then, it happened. With less than a second between them, I felt Bruce release in my mouth. I say release because it was like water being let go from a dam, flooding and filling my mouth with all that seed. For the first time, I felt a man cum in my ass. Its warm, wetness seemed to fill my ass with the seed of another man. It was something planted in me.

My bound cock was pulsing and doubtless red and purple. I could feel it again, the distraction of the cocks fading as they withdrew them from my body. My skills as a writer can't accurately describe the level of arousal I was at. It wasn't just my cock either. I NEEDED sex like a drug or food but deeper in my soul, too. I had been so lonely without Deidre and sex with Bruce and Barry had helped fill a void, an absence of connection. While the sensations and experience weren't the same, they occupied well more than half of that empty space.

So, for a moment, I was sad when they uncoupled me from the bench. Bruce stood me up and told me I should limber up so I shook and stretched for a minute. I expected that next they would unbind my cock and allow me to at least jack off. That's not what happened.

Bruce said, "You're not done, Tommy. We have another birthday surprise for you." They both chuckled, but I also could detect a vibration of excitement from them.