Asing the Question... - "gay" Version

Tom had been lying on the bed, eyes closed, listening, trying to make sense of the sounds, the smells, the hardness of the bed -- something that was difficult to do through his sore head. He had a headache like a migraine, but more -- what felt like a cut, or a gash, or a graze. He was unsure of how long he lay there -- he had woken up, and things were wrong.

It wasn't just his head. His arm hurt. And his side. And when he tried to move it felt like everything hurt. He tried to focus his mind on what happened to him, what had happened -- well what was the last thing he remembered?

"Are you okay, Mr Hanson?" He heard a friendly female voice, and forced his eyes open. His sight was a bit blurry, but he could make out the young nurse speaking to him.

Tom answered as he struggled out his own questions. "Where am I? What time is it? What happened?"

"Tuesday, 10.30am." Tom worked out he had been there since the previous evening. The nurse continued. "St. James hospital. They brought you here last night -- you were found beaten up in a local park, I think."

Suddenly panic came over Tom. "He's not here? Am I safe...?"

The nurse smiled. "I don't know who he is, but there is a security guard outside your room, and no-one else here." Tom felt relieved, but slowly dozed, then dropped off to sleep again. He woke again much later, this time much more alert.

Tom pulled himself up carefully, slowly, stopping when anything hurt, or didn't seem right. He looked from the bed and began to look around his surroundings. A hospital room. Monitors. Some wired up to him. There was a drip next to him. He did hurt, but it wasn't as bad as earlier. He did have a number of bandages. He still felt his mind was a fog, and still had the headache, and still hurt by his cheek, and there seemed to be something over part of his face.

It was a few minutes before a nurse came in. He couldn't make out whether it was the same one as earlier. "Glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Tom thought for a moment. "Terrible. What happened. Why am I here?"

The nurse smiled. "Well, you're not too bad -- a bit concussed, a few bruises, and a nasty gash on the side of your face. You seem to have been in a fight or something. They found you in the town park. We've said to the police that they can't talk to you today, but they will want to see you tomorrow."

Tom's face turned dark. "The police...?"

The nurse smiled again. "Yes, they will want to know why someone was found beaten up in the park! But now -- you can have a drink, or something to eat. You didn't have any ID on you. I need to ask a few question too. Is there anyone you want us to contact?"

Tom willingly answered the nurses question, giving his details. He had deliberately left his ID in his car... his car out by the hotel still... His parents lived the other end of the country, so he didn't want to worry them. He would think about anything else in the morning. A doctor also came into the room, saying he might be there a day or two until the concussion had gone, and they could monitor him to see if there were any other problems.

It was the middle of the night when Tom woke again. This time he had space to think. To remember. To recall what had happened, before dropping off to sleep again. The next morning he ate a small breakfast, sat by his bed, and recalled as much as he could remember. He now remembered a lot. The police were to come in the afternoon, so he had the luxury of the morning to decide what he would tell them. It was so embarrassing. But this shouldn't have happened...

It had started several months before. His divorce had come through. Elaine had found someone else and had moved in with him. Tom had realised something was going on -- but it was only two weeks before she had gone. Luckily, even though in their late 20s, they didn't have any children, and lived in a rented flat. Tom stayed in the flat for a while.

Tom was sad that Elaine had left, but he knew it was all over. Elaine was a "cold" woman, who had promised much in their early days. Elaine was wrapped up in her own career as an accountant. She didn't seem to have much interest in whatever Tom did, working in a local theatre as an electrician. And sex certainly wasn't great. To Tom it felt like Elaine would have liked to wear rubber gloves while "they were doing it." Tom hoped for variety, and blow jobs, and a chance to eat her out, but it never happened. In three years of marriage they had never done anything except missionary position once a week. Tom couldn't even remember why they had got married.

Tom had simply carried on living in the flat for a couple of months, then moved to something smaller. The break up had been pretty amicable, it was over, mainly because Tom didn't want a fuss.

The break up had been odd for Tom in a different way. On the one hand he felt he couldn't go out looking for women, looking for sex -- he just wasn't that type. But he felt "released." And released into the world of online porn! He searched for things, watched videos, read stories. About anything and everything. Of course his work didn't suffer -- he was good at what he did. But one thing came to dominate his thoughts. He had watched gay porn. He wasn't gay. He knew he wasn't gay. And yet there was a fascination. He wondered even about dressing up for another man.

About six months after Elaine had left Tom took the decision. He had to ask someone the question.

How do you ask the question? Who do you ask? How do you ask? He had to choose a guy and ask him.

For a couple of months Tom thought about who. Someone close? Someone at work? Someone who was only a vague acquaintance? Who was the guy he could have sex with? Who was the guy who would take him?

It was silly. One evening Tom had even sat at his computer and made a list of all the men he knew. He had a column of pros and cons. He put pictures by those he could. But there seemed to be a reason why each one seemed unsuitable. Paul at work. Nice guy, real friend. But happily married to Pat. Brian his manager. No -- rather unattractive! Joe down at the pub. No -- too much of a gossip.

The longer the list, the more reasons to say no.

It had all changed one day at the theatre when a touring group had been putting on their production, and Tom had been working with them do the lighting. It had been a rather "angry" play, but Tom had liked the four actors in the group. A husband and wife. Or at least partners. An older woman, and a "muscled" guy, perhaps in his mid forties. The partners played a daughter and her husband, and the other two parents of the husband. It was a play about abuse -- psychological abuse. Not Tom's cup of tea.

But there was one thing Tom noticed. The older guy -- Mike -- seemed to flirt with him. He didn't even know why he thought it. But it was there, some sort of undercurrent.

It was the last but one night of the run at the theatre. Tom knew this might be the opportunity. The moment. The following week the touring group would be off to the next city. He would have to ask the question, say something...

It was easier than he thought. The show had gone well, the actors had returned to their hotel, and Tom was resetting the lighting with Paul for the next evening. His phone went. Mike. Mike had left his mobile phone in his changing room. Could Tom bring it around to the hotel on his way home.

Ten minutes later Tom was in Mike's hotel room. Tom had given him his mobile. Mike was smirking. Tom was too innocent to even get the hint or sarcasm. But somehow this was a different Mike. The veneer of friendliness had been taken over by something different, less pleasant. Mike was saying very provocative things. "Bet you like being in the actor's bedroom?" "I guess you're the sort who prefers men to women." "I like to lead your sort along because I get all sorts of help from them."

Tom blurted it out. Tom asked his question. "Will you take me? Will you fuck me?"

Suddenly Mike's face went dark. "Do you think I deal will queers like you? Do you think I would touch scum like you?" Tom never saw the punch coming, but crumpled to the ground in pain, unconscious. He was never aware of Mike kicking him before carrying him out through the dark and dumping him in the park opposite. Never aware of the ambulance...

By the time the police came to see Tom in the hospital he knew he had little hope of any help from them. If he told the true story they would think it was a gay lovers tiff. Could they touch a "name" in the theatre? He gave them a bare bones of story. Walking outside, someone had attacked him, buty didn't taken anything -- he had left his valuables in the car. The police new it was only half a story, but they had a lot of other things to do. The next day he returned home. He had a few days off, before returning to work. He was grateful that Paul had come to see him. Mike had said some odd things the next day at the theatre. Paul had pretty well put things together, and from Tom's comments had worked out what had happened more fully... And Paul had said -- we won't let him get away with it...

It was about two weeks later well after Tom had returned to work that Paul spoke to him. "I was talking to Pat the other day, and we were wondering if you wanted to come around on Friday? After all I've said about you, Pat reckoned it would be nice to meet you."

They agreed lunch and the afternoon -- the theatre would be open in the evening and they would have to be at work late in the afternoon.

Friday lunchtime Paul greeted Tom at the door and took him through to the kitchen. He point to the person cooking there "This is Pat, Pat, this is Tom." Tom was utterly startled as a slim, six foot tall guy with a broad friendly smile approached, arms outstretched in welcome."

Pat stopped and laughed. "I got it. He let you think I was a woman! And I'm a man!"

Tom laughed, embarrassed, the other two joining in. Pat stopped and continued. "He's a naughty man! Does it all the time! Maybe we'll have to punish him later! Lets get lunch first."

Lunch -- a salad -- was tasty. As they chatted -- superficially -- Tom was checking out Paul and Pat anew. Paul -- perhaps in his late thirties was tallish and muscular. He was confident, but was warm. He had been Tom's best friend at work, but had never let on he was gay. It wasn't the thing they would talk about. They talked lights. And equipment. And ideas. Pat was gentler, friendly too. He was tall, slim, with long curly hair. Apparently he was some sort of artist. Compared to both Tom was smaller, with short fair hair.

As they were tucking into some cake, Paul turned to look Tom straight in the eye. "Tom, I know it was tough with Mike. I tried to tell you what he was like, really. I knew his reputation as a nasty bit of work, who hid it well. Trouble is, you wanted to ask the question."

Tom was startled. "Question? What question?"

Paul smiled. You know, the question. The question we're going to ask you in a few minutes."

Tom was still confused, and it showed on his face.

Paul laughed. "It isn't a particular question. Has lots of different forms. Like "Can I kiss you?" or "will you fuck me?" or..."

Tom was startled by the use of the apparently casual use of "f" word.

Paul continued. "So, here is our question. Can we spit roast you?"

Tom paused, his heart thumping. He knew what the phrase meant. He had never thought it might happen to him. But he could not say no...

Paul took his hesitation as uncertainty. "You know, me and Pat have dreamt of having a nice guy to spit roast, and both wanted to ask you the question for weeks. So we thought we would. You know, spit roast -- I get your mouth, he gets your ass..."

Putting it in such direct terms pushed Tom to a place where he had to say. His voice could only manage a whisper. "Yes. Please."

Paul was now confident. "Okay babe, get up, take your clothes off. Everything."

At first Tom hesitated. Everything was moving so quickly. Then slowly he rose to his feet. He kicked off his shoes, then removed his socks. He slowly removed his shirt as the other two guys watched. He hesitantly undid his belt, the hook and zip on his jeans, and pushed them to his feet, before stepping out of them. He hesitated, before Pat pointed to his boxers, then gestured for them to be taken off. Tom pulled them down his ankles then stepped out of them. Naked.

There was a pause as Paul and Pat stared at him. Were clearly staring at his naked body. Staring at his cock. His balls. This was totally new and hot. He had never been stared at in a sexual way before. Particularly by a couple of guys. His heart was racing, the blood was filling his cock so it stood hard and throbbing.

Pat smiled, and asked him to turn around. They were looking at his ass. They were touching his ass. He could feel hands running over his ass. Along the crack, pushing a finger in between. Tom tensed as for the first time ever male hands had touched him.

Paul spoke gently. "relax, babe, let us enjoy you, you enjoy what we do."

Tom did force himself to relax, and felt a finger touch his asshole. It was so hot. No-one had ever touched him there. Ever. His cock throbbed and twitched even harder. For several minutes he felt the finger, Pat's finger, caressing his most intimate hole. And then Paul stood in front of him, naked, and kissed him, at first gently, but then hard, with tongues, as he wrapped his arms around Tom and pulled him close.

The first thing Tom was aware of was Paul's cock touching his. It was electric. He was pleased -- his cock was a bit bigger, and a bit thicker than Paul's. But then what does size matter? The next thing Tom was aware of was his body responding, his own tongue wrestling with Paul's.

Paul pulled away. "It's time, babe. And we have some lube to help, you know..."

Paul held Tom's hands, backed away and sat on the sofa, pulling Tom's face towards his cock, pulling Tom onto his knees in front of him. "Suck me, babe." he ordered.

Tom didn't hesitate -- he took Paul's cock in his mouth, tasted the pre-cum. As he did he felt something probing at his asshole. Warm hard damp. Then it was in. It was tight. It was invading him slowly. It was pushing inch by inch deeper into his guts. Tom thought he was big, but the invader was just as big.

Tom had tensed while the cock was entering him, but when he felt Pat's balls against his, he moaned. In seconds the two men were fucking him, at first slowly, but with growing speed. He felt a hand on the back of his neck holding him while Paul thrust his cock in and out of his mouth. He felt Pat holding his hips as he slid his cock in and out of Tom's asshole, now adjusting a little to the size of the invading man. They were fucking him. Not one. Two. Both. And it felt amazing.

Tom could do little but submit while the two men fucked him, but all he wanted to do was submit. They were increasing in pace. He tasted more of Paul's pre-cum. It was okay...

Suddenly both men together started to pound in and out of Tom harder, harder, faster, moaning loudly, grunting, then Paul first, then Pat thrust hard and deep, their cum pouring into Tom, filling his ass, filling his mouth. Tom swallowed hard, tasting the warm salty fluid that was being fired into his throat. There seemed to be gallons, but he swallowed as much as he could! Their orgasms seemed to go on for ever, but at last they slowed, their cocks pulling out of him at the same moment. Paul and Pat were sitting side by side on the sofa, Tom between them on the floor. For Tom it had been the best thing ever. Paul and Pat had discovered, or created a new slut for their circle of friendship.

"Tom, you've not finished yet. Stand up."

Tom stood slowly to his feet in front of Paul and Pat. As he did he felt the soreness in his ass. Paul reached out his hand and softly touched Tom's cock with the back of his fingers, running the nails up and down. Tom's cock twitched hard, as it did over and over while Paul ran his fingers up and down. Tom moaned, and asked "please, make me cum..."

Pat reached out and grasped Tom's cock and began to wank him, lubricated by Tom's pre-cum. Faster and faster he wanked, until Tom moaned, grunted, and was spurting cum at first high in the air, but then running down over Pat's hand. At last he slowed down, until he struggled to stay standing as he panted.

It took a couple of second as he realised what had happened, and as he saw Pat licking his cum off his hand. So embarrassing, he realised for these two guys to make him and see him cum. So hot.

The next few minutes seemed odd, as a sort of practicality came over them. They got showered. They go dressed, and Paul and Tom went to the theatre to work. It had been a fantastic afternoon for Tom. The first time... Paul was thrilled to have seduced his best friend at work. Pat had enjoyed being with this wonderful stranger.

As he left Tom still had a question to ask. "When can we do this again?"