When my boyfriend, Enrique, got back to the apartment, he almost threw a fit when he found out he'd been left out of the group sex. He was having an emotional meltdown after hearing me describing his hung ex-boyfriend Max's transformation into a cockwhore. Of course, I exaggerated the scenes where I topped his muscular ex. He felt betrayed, saying that I should have waited for him.
I only managed to calm him down when I remembered the used underwear Lorenzo had given me the first night we were in that apartment. It was like a consolation prize, but the fabric somehow still had the strong scent of his post-exercise sweat, of his balls, of his ass. I made him inhale the scent that it gave off, while I teased him with descriptions of the scenes I had witnessed. "Almost 11 inches inside this underwear." "Very thick." I kept whispering these things in his ear while he moaned.
"I know this is new, but thank you for being so understanding," he told me after cumming. This trip had made him reveal to me his addiction to big dicks. After some seconds, he asked me to cuddle him from behind. My chest and arms were bigger than his; he always told me he felt comfortable in the arms of a stronger man. Perhaps to see if the conversation had turned me on, he rubbed his ass against my dick before pressing the subject. "Given that tomorrow is our last night here, do you think there's any chance we could invite Lorenzo for a threesome?".
I knew Enrique was being delusional, but I decided I would not be the one to spoil his fantasies. I won't deny it: seeing a mature man, a serious professional, almost crying because he wasn't fucked by Lorenzo's giant cock made me feel great, considering the things he had done to me. In silence, for twenty seconds, which felt like minutes, I made some circular movements around his back. Then I decided to play along: "We had a threesome with Max, I was willing to do it for us. But Lorenzo is on a special league. His cock is much bigger and thicker than Max's. Do you really think you can handle him?".
"I don't think we would ever get another chance to experience a cock this size." I noticed he was using "we", as if we were a couple experienced in cuckolding. "I must try it. I know Rodrigo and Max are leaving in a couple hours. I heard the Venezuelan saying he has work duties in Barcelona. Max is going to pretend these days here never existed. If you prefer it like that, we can do the same as soon as we are back in Madrid. But, yeah, I need him to fuck me."
I didn't bother to reply. I realized we were both having a hard-on. I don't even remember how we fell asleep, but at eight in the morning I woke up in the same position. Lorenzo's underwear was still near our faces. I was thirsty, it was the closest piece of clothing, so I put it on.
In silence, I went to the kitchen. I hadn't thought so much about sex in a long time. All my senses seemed awakened to it. To aggravate the symptoms, in the kitchen were Lorenzo and Max. They both oozed masculinity and had a high big dick energy without even trying. Like two muscle deities befriending each other.
The Italian Alpha man was wearing a white tank top, cut, filled by his muscular chest. You could even see the definition of his abs under the fabric. His arms were bulging, probably from the result of a visit to the gym. His left arm, covered in black and white tats, gave him a rough look. Max, on the other hand, was shirtless. He was somewhat furry and yet his abs were there, like two pillars of shredded rocks. Wasn't he supposed to be back home?
"Good morning," Lorenzo told me. Both were sweaty, back from the gym. They were more committed than I, a professional in the area. I learned from them that Max had decided to stay. Rodrigo, the Venezuelan bodybuilder, had returned to Barcelona alone, but Max wasn't ready yet.
"I was just going to wake you up. Ander asked me to take you to his uncle's house, do you remember? It's today. He really wanted to talk to you." The truth is that I had completely forgotten about it. There were about three messages from him on my cell phone, asking me to have an important conversation.
"Take a shower and change and I'll take you in 30 minutes." It was almost impossible to argue with him. In addition to a handsome smile, he sounded like a born leader. Used to being the one who call the shots, I never thought I'd see myself in this subservient position. I was glad he didn't notice or mention I was wearing his underwear.
When I got ready, Enrique was still sleeping, and Max was no longer in the house. Just me and Lorenzo again. I was more and more appreciating those little moments in which we were alone.
In the way to where Ander was staying, we talked about some amenities, like two longtime friends. In common, we both loved the Olympics and the Italian coast. And that subjects paid off. But suddenly he stopped the car next to a charming beach called Antilla. "Shall we get some sun here? We have time." The day was beautiful, the sky shining. But I wasn't prepared. I hadn't brought any proper clothes.
"Don't worry," he said, digging through a backpack for the red swim trunks he'd caught Enrique's attention with.
"Is it clean?" I asked.
"It's used, by me, and you don't care. I gulped. "Damn, earlier you were using my underwear from the first night. Put it now." So, he had noticed.
"Here?", I became a little bit uncomfortable.
"Of course, bro. Do you have something to hide?" He clearly had used it for a few days straight without washing it, because it reeked like men in locker room after practice. It had a strong masculine odor. I tried to dodge the task one last time, by asking if I would be the only one in a beachwear. He immediately lowered his shorts, revealing that he was wearing swim trunks of the same brand, but in a different color, navy. Fuck! That bulge again. And those thighs. And his ass. Especially his ass. His body was perfect.
Quickly and a little clumsy, I took off my boxers and shorts. I didn't want him to see me naked for too long. The main reason was I was having a semi. He didn't even look at me, but anxiety made me awkwardly put on his famous red swim trunks.
Sometimes, during these days, I found myself wondering if this brand he wore had any custom-made pouch that created a visible dick line, because it was indeed very revealing on him. But not. When I wore them, there was no bulge at all. It looked flat, devoid of volume. On the other hand, for the Italian man, the outline of it would made anyone drool. I guess it was really about the package. Ouch.
We spread the towels in a quiet place. He asked me to help him apply sunscreen to his muscles, which I did shyly. He returned the favor. When it was his turn to go behind my back, he took his time. I suspect he fixed his eyes on my ass. And then he brought up a subject:
"The good thing about hanging out with you is that we can talk about butts for a change. Look at that couple over there." They were two men in their late 40s, very muscular.
"I didn't know you like older guys," I replied.
"I like men's butt. Tell me, wouldn't you fuck them?"
"I don't know, man."
"Ah, don't be shy. Anyway, when I dated your best friend, Ander told me you like soft things. Romance. Vanilla. There's no problem with that." He paused. "Things are going to get pretty heavy tonight between Max and me. It's not for you. Besides, last night here, you should stay with someone who value you the way you are, who care about you. Enrique is a slut."
I gulped and I'm sure he noticed: "What are you talking about?"
He was very direct: "Yesterday, your boyfriend asked me to humiliate you. He even said you would enjoy it."
I was in shock. He showed me some private messages he had received from Enrique asking for it. He was saying I had agreed on being cucked on that night, that I would enjoy watching him getting fucked by a man who had a cock much bigger.
I got angry, feeling I had been debased. "Come on, what was that about? What is Enrique talking about?
"Bro, I don't want to hurt your feelings. It was all Enrique's idea. He wanted to measure us both and make you feel ashamed of your tiny dick in comparison to my massive one. Those were his words, not mine. You can read it all here. But I don't want to trigger those feelings in you," he sentenced.
I gulped again. Conversation was going to an uncharted territory. I had never worried about this before. Sex had always been easy: find a bottom guy, fuck him, end of story. This power play, some rivalry, was new to me. But, as an unexpected erection betrayed me, I was also thrilled. I tried to balance things by stating:
"I don't like being humiliated and I am definitely not small," I said, ignoring my hard-on. I am within the average, so nothing that starts with small applies to me." I was proud I said that. "Tell Enrique to fuck off."
"You should tell him yourself."
