Wide Receivers Pt. 01

When new neighbors move in, I play a little game in my head trying to figure out who's moving in, who are the friends helping, and who are the hired movers. Normally, I'd offer to help, or at least introduce myself, but this time it was Grand Central Station there. I'd only get in the way, and still had a couple hours of work ahead of me, so I would wait a day or two till the dust settled.

I went out of town that weekend, and the newbies kind of slipped my mind. I work from home, and started a new project when I got back. I often get lost in my work, and that day I looked up at the clock and realized that I hadn't stepped away from the computer in hours, and the the afternoon heat was kicking in. I took a break to stretch my legs and headed to the convenience store a few blocks away for a cold drink.

As I walked by their house, I made a mental note to bake them a pie or batch of cookies or something. On the other hand, there was a BevMo two blocks past the convenience store, and picking up a bottle of wine or scotch would be easier.

There was a black man sitting on the porch swing, reading the paper. He noticed me, lowered the paper, and gave a casual wave. I smiled and nodded, then quickly saw that he was wearing a Doctor Who shirt, which I couldn't ignore. The newbies were Whovians, and that was a perfect opening to introduce myself.

I approached, and we started talking, which led to sitting on the swing next to him, downing a couple of beers, and the afternoon just flew by. Marcus was tall and slim, a retired NFL player. He was a runner, not a lineman, so he never needed to lose those extra pounds. He could have played a few more years, but his wife's brother was an investment banker, and instead of jewelry and cars, they bought a very modest house and invested the rest of that money, wisely. Marcus got out of the game while he still had two good knees and could enjoy retirement without groaning every time he stood up.

Now, they had the funds to live however they wanted, but were used to living frugally, so instead of a mansion, they bought this; a nice house in a good neighborhood, a temperate climate so no winter heat bills, enough bedrooms for family visits and room for home improvements, like turning the basement into a game room.

Soon, Marcus and his wife, Caprice, became not just friends, but really good, close friends. They were terrific people: smart, funny, well-read, loved to play games, and I counted myself lucky that they wanted me around at all. Soon they were calling me over four or five times per week, and although my sex life had almost disappeared, I enjoyed the time with them so much, I hardly thought about dating at all.

One afternoon we were having a few beers on the porch when a couple of workmen came out the door, got in their truck, and gave a friendly wave as they drove off. With all the little improvements and appliance installations, this wasn't unusual. A few minutes later, Caprice came out to tell us the good news. Their new hot tub was fully up and running, and we should go break it in.

I said I'd go home and get my suit, but Caprice chuckled a bit, and Marcus explained how, with detergent and colors, cloth is bad for hot tubs. It's hard to keep the chemistry right in a hot tub. It's much easier with a bigger body of water, and they had looked into all the work and permits necessary to put in a swimming pool, but we lived less than five minutes from the ocean, so they decided it would be a waste of money, plus, a hot tub would be much more fun. There was already an 8 ft privacy fence in back, because the last owners had a dog that was a real jumper.

When we got to the back yard, Caprice chirped: "Last one naked brings the beer", and I stood there stunned as, in seconds, they dropped their clothes and hopped in, so I turned to get us a round. Marcus called out for me to bring the bourbon, too, so I grabbed three plastic shot glasses as well.

Although I knew they were naked, I couldn't actually see anything beneath the bubbling water, so I was more than a little self-conscious stripping down while they didn't even pretend to not watch.

Once in, I poured shots, and we toasted to the new hot tub. Marcus turned the jets to their minimum so that we could talk without shouting, and Caprice said that she wanted to play "Truth or Truth".

"Don't you mean Truth or Dare?" I countered.

"No," she said, "The tub is too comfy to get out for a dare, so let's just have a talk, get to know each other, and maybe share a few secrets. The rules are: one question, one answer, elaborate only if it's part of the question, or if it's a really good story. If you just can't bring yourself to answer, you have to take a penalty shot."

"But wait," I said. "You two know everything about each other, so won't it be you two just firing questions at me?"

"Oh, no. First, we surely don't know EVERYTHING about each other. We think our own thoughts, have secret fantasizes and such. And the things we do know, there are a lot of good stories worth a second hearing for us, and absolutely worth a first listen for you. I'll start with a good example. Marcus, why don't you tell us the story of how a bunch of your teammates ended up on a nude beach?"

"What's the magic word?" he said with a tease.

"Pretty please?" she answered with a cheesy grin.

Marcus sat up a bit and leaned forward before taking a sip of beer. By his expression and body language, I knew this would be a good one.

He's a terrific storyteller, and funny as hell. I won't ruin it by trying to re-tell it, because it was really great. But basically, his team was in Europe for an exhibition game, (or what Europeans call a "friendly"), to support the European League of American football. During a day off, a bunch of them went to what they thought was a nude beach, but wasn't. Instead of backing down, they spent a couple hours throwing a football and Frisbee while waist-deep in the ocean. The black guys were ok, but all the white guys were waist-up deep red, and fluorescent white from the waist down, like when you dye Easter eggs and dip then half-way.

The stories started like that: silly, embarrassing, surprise nudity, getting caught, etc. No one had to take a penalty shot, but we did do rounds to toast an especially funny or naughty story. She was beginning to ask quite pointed questions, and seemed to be paying very close attention to my answers; what I was actually saying, and things I would only hint at. She pulled no punches with Marcus, either. Of course, she knew his answers, (well, a couple surprised her, which I loved), but while he answered, sometimes sheepishly, she would watch me, gauging my reaction to what he said. Things started getting more personal, dirtier, and questions changed to: "Have you ever, even once...", "What kind of porn...", and even "Have you ever masturbated while fantasizing about...". That last question got REALLY dirty.

Talking with them, just spending time with them, it was clear to see how much in love they were, and enjoyed playing together. I had no doubt that Marcus would do anything, absolutely Anything if she asked. At least he'd try it a time or two. Hell, if I had a woman like Caprice, I'm not sure how many things I'd say no to.

We moved around, trying each place in that big 8 seater, until finally she sat between us, one hand on his thigh, another on mine. She leaned toward him, kissed him softly, and came back to me and did the same. Then she asked, in a hushed, conspiratorial tone, if I had ever fooled around with a guy. Hesitantly, I admitted that yes, I had, but offered nothing further. I wasn't sure how much to commit.

"I thought so" she said, holding my gaze captive.

"What about you with other girls?" I challenged.

She said that although she had fantasized for years, she'd only started playing with girls in her Freshman year of college, with her roommate, Evie, and relayed in some detail how it began one night when a guy who lived in the same dorm walked them both home from a frat party.

They invited him in for one last beer, and she started making out with him while Evie sat across the room. He ended up fingering her to a powerful orgasm, which delighted her, because she had only ever done that herself. She was no virgin, and a couple guys had made her cum by going down on her, but this guy's nimble fingers played her like a piano. She rewarded him with the most enthusiastic blowjob she could muster, having completely forgotten that her roommate was even there. But Evie was quietly watching there in her bed, on the other side of the room, masturbating to her own private sex show.

That began a life-long friendship with Evie. Talking about that night allowed them to open up to one another, which led to admissions, confessions, sharing fantasies and favorite porn sites, sometimes accidentally revealing secret porn, until there was practically nothing that was off-limits.

They talked about sexual techniques and their first sex toys, (a hairbrush and a rocket-shaped bottle of roll-on deodorant), and many more secrets were brought to light for the very first time.

Then, during one particularly hot discussion, Evie thrust her hand down inside her yoga pants, and Caprice followed suit. From that night on, mutual masturbation was a naked activity, and an almost nightly affair, joking that they were getting Carpel-Tunnel, because watching one another was such a turn-on.

They were fascinated with each others' breasts; Evie's tiny titties were like Caprice had never seen: with pretty pink nipples that turned darker and puffy when she got excited. Everyone thinks that big tits and deep cleavage steal the show, but Evie had no need for a bra, and knew full well that her pokies were show-stoppers.

Meanwhile, when Evie's fingers were running those little circles on her downstairs, she was frozen, hypnotized with Caprice's Hershey-coloured globes, with those deep, dark areola and nipples that got so hard they reminded Evie of pencil erasers. They began playing with, and sucking each others' breasts while they masturbated, which led to long make-out sessions, heavy petting like the teenagers they were, while still never daring to explore below the waist.

Then, one night Evie said that she couldn't take it anymore, she wanted to touch, to play with Caprice's pussy, to feel another woman's clit grow hard under her fingers. It turns out, they both had wanted more, but felt there was some unwritten rule from the other. Well, the floodgates opened, and the only limits became their own imaginations and desires.

Guys assume that women automatically know how to make another woman cum, but every woman is different, every pussy is sensitive in different ways, different places, different amounts of pressure and suction on the lips, the clit, and the question of one finger, two, three, more? to reach in and tease, stroke, or even aggressively kneed the G-spot. They had plenty of time, and spent many, many hours finding exactly how to coordinate fingers and tongue to best please each other.

Once they learned the term LUG, (Lesbian Until Graduation), they realized this fit them perfectly, so they made a pact to concentrate on grades and not complicate their lives with the drama and turmoil of men. The closest they came was watching men in porn, a lot of porn, but they stayed true to their education, and never touched another guy until after they graduated. They both knew that they'd marry men, but for college years, they only needed each other to scratch any itch that arose.

The wildest, dirtiest times, though, were when they would bring in a third girl. Once they were open to that possibility, it wasn't hard to find playmates. They seduced one of the law librarians, together, in the library, between the stacks, after hours. And, for almost two full semesters, they were even regularly fucking Evie's brother's girlfriend, who was a year ahead of them, until she graduated and moved away, breaking it off with all three of them. He still doesn't know.

While she was telling the story, she slowly caressed me, and the back of her hand casually came into contact with my now raging erection on the way up and down my thigh, and I had no doubt Marcus was getting even more attention.

"What about you, my love? Tell us a story," she said, leaning to tenderly kiss him.

"Well, you know my story. You were there."

"Yes, but I'd like to hear you tell it."

"I'd like to hear it, too," I chimed in, which seemed to please Caprice, and she rewarded me by suddenly grabbing me by the shaft, and gave it a surprisingly hard squeeze, which would have hurt, but it had already transformed into an iron bar. She must have approved, because she kissed me, then ended the kiss with a surprisingly intimate lick across my lips, returned her hand to my thigh, and looked at him expectantly, as though awaiting her bedtime story. I was hoping he had his own confessions, so it would be easier for me to open up and detail my own "secret origin" story.

He began by admitting to the occasional guy-on-guy masturbation fantasy, like every man, (whether he admits it or not), though he never acted on it until he married Caprice. The closest he had come was jacking off in college with his roommate, and later again in the NFL while sharing hotel rooms on the road. Sometimes, the other guy would ask if he minded watching some porn together, which was always straight, lesbian, or maybe a MFF 3-way. They always pretended that they weren't watching each other, and nothing was EVER said about it, before, during, or after.

Except for one guy, in Marcus' last year in the NFL. He was asked to take this rookie under his wing, knowing this was his replacement, with even better speed and college stats than his own. All year, be it training camp, away games, or anytime a hotel was involved, they bunked together, and became good friends. He was never shy about watching porn, and after the first night, never even asked. His laptop had the biggest screen Marcus had ever seen, and although he often started with straight or lesbian porn, it always ended with MFM 3-ways.

It was never Bi porn, the guys didn't touch each other, just tag teaming, spit roasting, or DPing the woman. But the kid always talked through it, imagining that he and Marcus were the ones fucking her instead of the guys on the screen. Neither he nor Marcus were world-record big, but he wasn't shy about commenting on the cocks on the screen or in the room, in a playful way.

"If she can take that up her ass, I wonder if she could take yours," or, "She'd never get both our cocks in her mouth like she did those two," and things like that.

Caprice was, and is still, convinced that he was trying to find an "in" to see if Marcus had any interest in exploring a little. Or maybe a lot. As tempted as he sometimes was, Marcus never dared make a move. In the jock world, he'd seen a lot of guys pay a heavy price for even being suspect, so just jacking off with another guy, slyly watching each other, had to be enough to satisfy any fantasies, at least as long as there could be any repercussions to his career or financial security.

When he was alone, and his libido drifted to guy/guy desires, he would always turn to Bi MMF 3-way porn. When he was really horny, and only hot guy-on-guy action would satisfy, but a woman had to be involved. The woman, the feminine sexuality, was an integral part of his fantasy. His erection, even when he was lusting for a cock, was even harder when she would take charge: guiding, encouraging the action. Not "forcing" the guys, just using her feminine wiles to encourage cooperation, exploration, fulfilling both their fantasies with experimentation, giving in to oral ministration. It pissed him off how often the woman was "forcing" the guy, physically abusing, verbally humiliating him, instead of just asking, bargaining, enticing. For many years, bi porn meant cruelty, not cooperation, so Marcus learned to watch most Bi porn with the sound off.

He alone knew that his cock only got to it's absolute biggest, almost painfully hard, while watching porn where a woman gently nudged, inspired and motivated until she got her man to admit what he wanted, and to believe that she, too wanted, for him to actually suck a real, live cock. It was his very own secret that, perhaps only once, bucket-list style, that he really, truly wanted to feel another man's hard cock in his mouth.

Women may watch gay and bi porn, but in real life, finding women who were truly interested, who would convince and encourage her man that she wanted him to try it for her enjoyment, were Extremely few and far between. Until Caprice. Unlike the few women he had ever dared to tell this fantasy to, with her, it really was ok, with no judgment or shame from her at all. And yes, it really did turn her on.

In those Bi porn movies, Marcus was right there, wishing he were the one on his knees, mouth filled with another man's erection, a loving wife watching, running her fingers through his hair. Never once while jacking off, or licking his own cum from his hand, so horny he stayed hard through at least two, sometimes three orgasms, never did he dare to think he would actually be lucky enough to have one of those dirty angels from the hottest porn scenes, until Caprice came into his life, and he was forever grateful. Caprice was, quite literally, his dream come to life, and with a smoking hot bod straight out of a big tits super-hero comic book.

Strictly gay porn never enough to do the trick. Well, almost never, except for maybe a really enthusiastic blowjob. If a guy was really, really into giving the blowjob, or, once in a great while, one guy surrounded by a bunch of cocks, sucking off one after another, making each one cum in turn. Caprice made him realize that kind of porn was really his own deep-dark fantasy of being on his knees with his team in the locker room showers.

They were married for his last two years in the NFL, and Caprice has an amazing ability to get people to tell her their secrets, (she missed her calling as a spy). Marcus told her everything, even his deepest-darkest, but since he was still playing ball, surrounded by "jockness", they kept their naughty playtime a secret between him, her, internet porn sites, and packages delivered in a discreet brown wrapper.

Eventually, they had to find a small trunk for all their toys. Some things, they discovered, were better as fantasies than reality, so certain toys were only tried once, while others they enjoyed so much, they got their own pet names.

After he retired and no longer feared for his reputation or career, they grew bolder, and had a few MFF 3-somes, (with Evie), which, let's face it, is nearly every man's fantasy. Then, after convincing him that she did want it, and it would, indeed, turn her on, and no, she wouldn't think any less of him, joking how he "owed" her for all the times he watched her lick pussy, he finally agreed to try it with another man once, as a birthday present for her. He didn't even have to touch the other guy if he couldn't go through with it. However, he did agree that the other guy and Caprice could suck Marcus together, even if it went no further.

It started off like the bi porn he would watch. Caprice was on all fours, Marcus fucking her from behind, while she was sucking and old friend of hers, James, frequently turning her head to lick the shaft and give Marcus a great show. Then she took charge, changing position. She lay on her back, Marcus began on top, fucking her with her head turned to suck James. He loved watching her, watching that cock fuck her mouth, mesmerized, not realizing that her free hand was on his shoulder, slowly pulling him down, closer, closer to her lips wrapped around another man's cock.

Then she turned to face him, the cock exiting her mouth with a little audible "pop". She pulled him down to her, kissing him hard, tongues playing, dueling. She pulled James' cock into position, between their mouths, and their tongues began working furiously, as though licking an ice cream cone, fighting to get it out of the way and kiss each other again. The sensation must have been intense, as they both felt this cock get unbelievably harder.