It had been perhaps 6-8 months since my encounter with Joe. During that time, I had a few encounters, but mostly to hone my skills, particularly with sucking cock. While I wouldn't consider myself a master, I learned a lot about technique and what I really enjoyed. The swelling of a dick in my mouth and the feeling of that load rushing from base to tip was far too intoxicating for me to do it any other way. Of the 3 cocks I had sucked since that night, I made a point to make it clear that I was not interested in facials, cumming on my body or anything of the sort: I would only suck if the load was delivered down my throat. As you can imagine, I didn't get any resistance to that.
Getting penetrated, however, was strangely much more difficult to come by. It seemed (at least where I lived, anyway), that most of the "tops" were looking for femboy types, and I most certainly didn't fit the bill. I did have one guy bend me over, but it wasn't quite as good as I had hoped. While he was big enough, he was pretty unsure of himself. While he did finish, I got the sense that he didn't enjoy it very much. He told me later that fucking another guy was too much for him to handle mentally, which I understood. It was good for me though, because it affirmed that getting hulled wasn't just something that I would do when I was just too horny to care: I liked the sensations, the positions, the work that goes into being taken that way. I also learned that it wasn't something that I would do frequently. Not that it hurt, or if I was worried about getting "loose". I just liked the feeling of the first time, and figured that if I didn't make it a daily or weekly thing, then I could preserve that new car scent for as long as possible.
So it was surprising and exciting when I saw a familiar email address in my inbox. Just like you never forget the phone number of the first girl you ever kissed, you never forget the email address of the first guy to go balls deep in your ass, I suppose.
"Remember me?", it read. "Was wondering if you might want to stop by this weekend...."
I was instantly horny, the rush of that night coming back to me. I wanted to show Joe what I had learned. Since he was the baseline and had been so forgiving of my inexperience, I was sure he would appreciate that my holes would be far more receptive and capable of milking the sap out of him this time around.
"Absolutely, what time?"
He responded with a time, and with a twist
:
"What if I told you that maybe another person would be joining us?"
It took me a minute to think about that before replying. Was it that fear of the unknown that I had felt the first time? I mean, I just learned how to adequately service one man, but two? What would the other person want? Would they want to tag team my ass, or was I to fuck the other guy. Maybe I was just needed to suck them both off.
All of the possibilities and combinations were too varied for me to respond with anything other than, "I'm down. I'll see you then."
Saturday rolled around soon enough, and my excitement only grew. Expecting the unexpected was a wonderful thing. Still, some preparation was necessary. When I got up that morning around 11am, after shaving myself bare as usual, I decided to wear a medium-sized buttplug all day. Not knowing if I would have two cocks up my ass, nor how big the other one might be, I wanted to make sure that my hole was primed for prolonged action. This had the side effect of making me feel especially dirty and slutty. Being acutely aware of something inside you, with every motion and every footstep reminding you of what your role for the day was, induced a persistent state of arousal that you could not ignore. If there was any doubt in my mind of my desire to be used, this pre-game warmup certainly dispelled the notion.
I didn't wear it over to Joe's house though. Slowly easing the toy out of my ass, I was surprised at how angry my greedy ass was about being empty. The precum dripping from my tip tasted salty and sweet as I took a drop with my fingers and put it to my lips. As I got dressed in the customary, "Bend me over and fuck me" attire, a t-shirt and sweatpants, I grabbed a cock ring from my drawer and shoved it in my pocket. I wanted to make sure that I didn't accidentally cum too soon.
Joe's place hadn't changed much since my last visit. A bit of updated artwork hung on the wall, but we both knew that I wasn't there for that. He greeted me, this time wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I could tell he wasn't wearing any underwear, and I'm sure he could tell that I wasn't wearing any either. I made no effort to hide the bulge growing at the thought of what would be happening that night.
"So, you said there's someone else coming over," I asked.
"Yea, someone I met a few weeks back," he said, walking over to the fridge to get the customary prelude to anal sex beers. "He's kind of shy, but curious?"
"Ha. Like I was?"
He laughed back. "I suppose so, but I don't think he'll be quite as, shall we say, eager as you."
I took a big gulp. "You don't have to play with me. You meant open for business."
"It's only business if you pay for it, my friend."
"Good point. There is a difference between being a whore and just a slut. The latter is classier." We shared another laugh and a toast and I asked, "So where do you want this to go?"
"I should ask you that. Anything new with you?"
I knew exactly where that question was leading. "Well yes. I've had a few experiences since then. And, I realize that I really enjoy swallowing a nice load."
Joe stepped closer, almost nose to nose with me. "Is it because you like it for you, or do you like it because I want it," he growled, grabbing my crotch.
"Goddamn it," I whispered. He snared met yet again. Just a few words and that smoldering kernel of losing the to say no. "It doesn't matter when it's inside me."