I have categorized this as "Group Sex" since I believe that fits better overall than "Gay Male".
In Part One Vince and Chad pleasure Amy, though there is some contact between the two men. In Part Two Vince relates his first time with a another guy. Be forewarned that section is all MM action.
Overall this chapter has a darker tone.
*****
Part One
Vince rolled onto his left side, punching the pillow into a tight ball to support his head. He pulled a corner of the blanket over his shoulders. He could see the red glow of the cable box reflected in the glass patio door. He squinted and reversed the digits in his head not believing it was only a few minutes past ten. The day felt like it had lasted a week. Or perhaps it was only the memories that lasted a week. He cherished his memories of Ann though they often left him feeling adrift. Adrift in, what was the line, "above a raging sea", that was it. He wasn't above it; he was in it. He was a good swimmer but when his strength gave out he knew what he hoped his last thoughts would be.
He slept, not well, but he slept. He dreamed of Ann but everything was jumbled. She skipped through his dreams seemingly at random. He dream of her in places he had never taken her. He dreamed of others in memories that belonged only to Ann. In the final dream of the night he dreamt of her in the tearoom, the one back in Fraser Hall, where he use to stand just watching all those years ago.
She leaned against a wall. He knelt, naked, on the cold tile floor in front of her. She pulled her skirt up and he buried his face between her legs. Aroused she was always amazingly wet but when she came in his mouth this time it was too much, a torrent. He couldn't keep up with her. He felt liquid run from his mouth. He couldn't breathe. He tried to pulls his mouth away but couldn't. The harder he pulled the more his mouth filled with hot fluid. He swallowed convulsively but could not swallow fast enough. Hot liquid spewed from his mouth and splashed onto his chest.
He put his hands on the wall behind her and shoved with all his strength. Anne's arms were around his shoulders, holding him tight. She was suffocating him. His mouth was full. Unable to hold his breath any longer he inhaled. His throat filled with liquid and he began to choke. His vision funneled down to a tiny point of light and he heard the ocean roaring in his ears. He had time to wonder how he could hear the ocean in Kansas before the invisible cord that bound him to her snapped. He pitched onto his back, head striking the tile floor. The single pinpoint of light that had filled his vision exploded into shooting stars, white and black that corkscrewed across his eyes.
The dream Vince drew in a shuddery breath and began to cough. His mouth tasted of cum, cum and something else, something metallic. He shook his head, struggling to clear his vision. Ann was no longer standing in front of him. She stood to one side, staring. Her eyes were wide but the shine was gone. Her beautiful face was marred by a sick half smile of horror. Her hand hovered motionless half way to her mouth. In her other hand she held the simple bouquet of daisies and Queen Anne's lace she had carried down the aisle on their wedding day. She was clad in the simple white dress she had chosen to wear the day she had wed him. The front of the dress was spattered with red.
He stared, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. His chest hurt. He remembered she had bit him in her passion but that made no sense. That had happened long before they married and there had been no blood. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Something dripped from his mouth and landed on his chest. He touched the spot with the fingers of his right hand and then held them to his face. They were smeared with red. He looked down at his chest. His left nipple was gone. Where it should have been a ragged hole pulsed with blood, shockingly red in the harsh glare of the men's room's lights. Red, red running down to puddle in his navel, red running off his sides, there was red everywhere. It was too much, impossible for it to be blood. But it was blood.
He sat up. Staring again at the red fingers of his right hand, he wiped his lips and chin with his left. He did not want to look at his left hand but this was a dream and though he screamed to himself not to look; he looked. Red. His mouth was full of blood. He tried to stand but his feet kept slipping from underneath him. He was sitting in a widening pool of blood, deep enough that it almost covered Ann's bare feet. But it was his cock not the blood that fixed his gaze.
His cock was huge. It reached as high as his chest and was as big around as a softball bat. It was hard, hard and throbbing. As he stared an orgasm tore through his body without warning. He ejaculated and the ejaculate was blood, hot blood, scalding blood that spattered his chest and face etching splotches of searing pain.
He pawed at his face, trying to rid himself of the fire. When his vision cleared he saw the figure of a man, leaning against the wall where Ann had stood. Vince recognized him and shuddered. Ann did not appear to see the man or in any case her face remained turned toward Vince.
The man was naked. He shouldn't have been. When Vince had sucked him off the man had simply pulled his erection from his pants, offering it to Vince framed in pleated wool and a brass zipper. He was naked now. His hands were clutched between his legs and blood dripped from between his fingers.
His dick lay on the tiled floor at his feet, just his dick, no balls. The base was jagged, gnawed. Vince put a hand to his mouth. Impossibly, the dick was still hard, just as impossibly it continued to eject streamer after streamer of cum that latticed the blood on the floor with white.
Vince's hands and feet slipped and splashed in the blood as he scrambled backward on his ass to get away from the mutilated figure. The man mocked him with a smirk. His back thudded against something hard that toppled and fell with a crash.
Vince tore his eyes from the bleeding man and looked at the floor beside him. The tile was gone. He sat on bland featureless carpet, carpet designed to quiet the step without drawing attention. An easel lay there, under a spray of flowers bedecked with a ribbon he could not read. He jerked his head to the other side. A satiny red hued casket sat atop a catafalque surround by flowers.
Behind him a voice spoke. It was the voice of his old bitch of a landlady.
"Yes, it is all so sad, so awfully sad. You heard what happened?"
The words were spoken in a tone that made it clear that the old bitch would tell her tale regardless of her listener's answer. A pause. A whispered answer he could not decipher. Then the old bitch spoke again.
"Oh no, that wasn't it at all. No, her husband killed her."
-
Vince jerked away from the hand on his shoulder, swinging wildly. He heard a soft cry of surprise. He scrambled backward until his back slammed into the media cabinet. It rocked, threatening to toppled over on top of him. The pain in his shoulder woke him but it took a moment to recognize where he was and who the woman was that stood staring at him, looking half worried and half afraid. It clicked as Chad came rushing in from the bedroom, his hard-on flopping from thigh to thigh, looking ridiculous as hard-ons do when viewed objectively.
Chad did not look concerned or frightened, merely alert. "What's going on?"
Vince's mouth was dry and his heart was still pounding in his chest. He made no effort to answer.
"I got up to pee," he heard Amy's shaky voice begin. "I didn't know where I was at first. You," she nodded her head toward Chad, "were asleep. With a boner." Unbelievably she paused to chuckle. "That brought everything back. Then I heard someone in the living room. I figured it had to be Vince but he didn't sound right. It was more of a groan than a voice. When I went to see what was up, he was on the floor all twisted up in a blanket. It was obvious he was having a nightmare. I tried to wake him up. I called his name but not very loud. I didn't want to wake you." She gave Chad a sidelong glance then turned to look at Vince.
"When I shook you, you stopped and opened your eyes. You looked like you were awake. You even talked to me. Then you started jerking around and slammed into the TV stand."
As she spoke her face fell in on itself and assumed a look of both fear and concern. Seeing it Vince's mind snapped back to his dream. Amy's face wore an identical expression as the dream Ann's.
Vince licked his lips and managed to speak. His voice sounded old, old and creaky as if his jaws and tongue needed lubrication.
