Sitting by the window at The Warren View and staring at the traffic, my mind drifted back to my last threesome with James and Ashraf. It was Friday evening, two nights earlier, I arrived home in a high state of anticipation. I received a message from Ashraf earlier in the week asking whether James and I wanted to catch up. He had the night to himself and was able to host. James readily agreed when I asked him.
When I got home, I retrieved a brand new bottle of anal lubrication with the label that James preferred because it had a pleasing flavour, and he liked to ATM during anal sex. I showered, shaved, and groomed before deodorizing and applying a liberal dose of eau de toilette. dressing smartly, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, jumped on a bus, and made the short trip to Ashraf's house.
After knocking on the door, I was greeted with impeccable politeness and was invited across the threshold. Ashraf was similarly dressed with a pleasing musky aroma. His black beard was neatly trimmed and his brown eyes twinkled in the soft light of the lounge room. He took my bottle and came back with his and three glasses.
Sitting on the couch, we chatted and sipped on wine while waiting for James, who had earlier messaged that he was running late.
"How's it going with James?" Ashraf asked with his usual good grace.
"Really well, " I smiled while blushing, "We catch up regularly."
"I can see that," Ashraf nodded toward my improved physique, "He's been good for you."
"In more ways than one," I acknowledged, honestly, "He's a good influence."
"Any more kinky stuff?"
I nodded and blushed, but went on to explain how James was a latent cross-dresser. It started when James had waxed his legs and crotch before dressing up in his mother's lingerie and make-up. For additional flourish, I admitted how much this new kink had excited me, which resulted in several stunning orgasms. I purposefully omitted the fact that I let James fuck me because I felt that submission was an intimate moment between James and me. Ashraf did not know that James and I were a versatile (and exclusive) couple.
"You in love?"
Initially, the question took me aback because I never really analysed my feelings. Perhaps I did because I harboured an intense feeling of deep affection for James and thought about him constantly. However, James and I never discussed anything so deeply. Our relationship, if you could call it that, was strictly rooted in the realms of kink and mutual sexual pleasure.
"We don't talk about that stuff, to be fair," I answered, "How's it going with your man?"
"Good, but I don't get to see him as much as I'd like."
Ashraf was married with a family, whose wife, after birthing three children, had seemingly lost interest in sex. This was convenient timing because Ashraf had discovered a love for man-on-man action and had discretely indulged when the occasion allowed. He was in his mid to late forties, a decade senior to me, but in fine fettle. With a hairy but toned physique, a ramrod straight cock, firm balls and a welcoming arse, Ashraf was a fine fucker indeed. Our threesomes were rare affairs, but their intensity compensated. Both James and I were comfortable with the cadence of these catch-ups because we preferred to play together, alone, where the intimacy was maximised. By contrast, these threesomes were simply porno shoots.
"Ah, the last element has arrived," Said Ashraf, rising from the couch and proceeding to the door.
James, his youthful good looks enhanced by a fresh facial shave, walked inside. I stood and hugged him after he shook Ashraf's outstretched hand.
"Good to see you again," We both said.
Ashraf handed James a glass of wine, which he downed in one swallow.
"Nervous?" Ashraf asked politely before refilling his glass.
"Not for this," James replied, his cheeks reddening, "Something at home."
I received a worrying glance from James' before he forced a change of countenance. He would tell me later what was on his mind. Hopefully, it was not serious.
