Doubling Up Pt. 01
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I opened the front door to find Guy grinning at me broadly, his son Simon following right behind. I showed them through to the sitting room, where Jake introduced Simon, who he’d been to school with, to Marcus, his friend from university.
While I was busying myself collecting in coats, gloves and scarves from Guy and his son, I was pretending not to notice the interest which Marcus obviously had in Simon.
“Well, hello there!” he chirped in a way that could have been passed off as jokey, but which sounded, to my ears, almost predatory.
He kept grinning at Simon, almost leering at him, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to have heard him saying to Jake, “You didn’t tell me that you had such… an attractive friend.”
I glanced over at the two of them before I took assorted outerwear to be hung up, and saw Marcus eagerly asking Simon which university he was at, what course he was taking and the like. I fully expected to see the front of Marcus’ dark blue trousers tenting upwards, his flagpole flying at full mast for his new firm favourite, but it seemed he was able to keep that aspect of his excitement more tactfully obscured.
When I brought some drinks in, I heard Marcus trying to persuade Simon to stay over with us all.
“Sorry but I’m driving my dad’s car back over to mum’s,” Simon told him. “He’s bunking up here tonight.”
“Oh, right,” Marcus said, and then, turning to Jake, “Simon’s dad’s staying here tonight?”
His eyes were full of interest: he knew full well what was might be on the cards. I’d already told him that Guy and I were rather more than just friends.
Jake nodded, looking distinctly unimpressed by Marcus’ obvious attraction towards his old schoolmate.
Marcus turned back to Simon. “Well, if you fancy having a few drinks with us, I’m sure you could stay over too.”
“Sorry, mate, but I’ve got a job at the Post Office for the Christmas holiday. I’m due in at the sorting office at five. So I’ll probably just have a coke or something here and then I’ll head back off to mum’s.”
Marcus turned away from him and looked glumly at his drink.
I smiled to myself at how blatant he was being. Simon was a nice, sweet lad with hair neatly parted hair; the type of young man who wore button-down collars for fear he might end up with one collar tucked into his jumper and the other poking out. There was no way Marcus was going to get his leg over him, no matter how hard he tried. Even if Simon was gay or swung both ways, and I felt he was far too boring to do either, he’d probably want at least a civil partnership before he would be prepared to prize his arse-cheeks apart.
Guy broke the silence by saying, “Yeah… I always stay over when I’ve had a few. Can’t risk getting caught by the fuzz, eh?”
And Marcus’ eyes brightened up again at the prospect of having Guy in the house and at being in the next room to two men who were likely to have sex before sleeping.
Guy was helping me in the kitchen with some microwaveable pizza slices and oven chips. I say ‘helping’, but his main contribution was to stand back with his backside against the freezer, chatting while he swigged from his beer-can.
“Does Simon ever ask you about why you sleep here so often?” I asked him, taking the half-baked chips out of the oven and shaking them around a bit on the tray.
“I always tell him, just like I did out there, that it’s so I can drink without worrying about how to get home,” Guy informed me. “If he asks – which he won’t – we’ll say I always kip in your spare room.”
“Of course,” I smiled, sliding the chips back into the oven. “But what if he asks where you’re going to sleep tonight, while Marcus is here? I’ve only one spare room after all…”
It was interesting to note that, in spite of there being two male friends staying over in the house with Jake and me tonight, the bed in the spare room would remain completely unslept-in.
Guy considered the question before answering, “If he does ask – and, again, he won’t because that sort of thing wouldn’t cross his mind – we’ll say that I’m sleeping on the couch. Marcus must be in the spare room, I assume.”
“Actually, he’s not,” I said, closing the oven door. “He’s bunking up with Jake in his single bed.”
“Really?” he asked with an interested grin. “It’s like that is it? I kind of suspected as much from how touchy-feely they are around each other.”
“It’s very much like that,” I replied, returning his smirk before taking a sip from my wine. “The two of them were getting very cosy together the other night after you left us.”
Guy laughed and continued to look distinctly interested that my son and his friend were, like him and me, rather more than just friends.
“It’s quite funny hearing them say such sweet things to their girlfriends on the phone,” I went on, “before they both head to Jake’s bedroom to have some very noisy fun together.”
“When the girls are away, mate,” he said, laughing again, “the boyfriends still need to play!”
“Like us,” I said.
“Exactly,” erzurum escort he grinned.
“Boyfriends playing around,” I mischievously added, succumbing to the temptation to use the word ‘boyfriend’ deliberately provocatively just to gauge his reaction.
His smile vanished and his posture became more guarded.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked coldly.
I shrugged innocently and maintained my smile. “Just what you said. When the girls are away, the boyfriends are going to play around together.”
“Well… yeah… okay,” Guy said hesitantly. “I don’t mind that. But I’m not your boyfriend in, like, a couply of sort of way.”
“Oh!” I laughed, as if suddenly understanding the reason for his unease. “You mean like Marcus said the other night. That joke he made.”
“Yeah, you remember! When he said it was like I was your boyfriend.”
“Oh, yeah, that,” Guy said dourly. “I don’t mind stuff like that being said as a joke, but we’re just two blokes with added benefits, Rob. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
I felt a peculiar twinge of upset at the indifference of his manner. It was almost like an echo of when Linda had told me she was leaving me.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have opened this particular can of worms.
“Of course, Guy!” I smiled, hiding the feeling. “I mean… to think of you as another man’s boyfriend… it’s laughable!”
And yet he didn’t laugh. The idea wasn’t funny to him: it held a real and very personal threat to what he felt his sexuality was.
“We’re just fuck-buddies, Rob,” he emphasized, his voice oddly distant. His eyes were scarily hostile: I could almost believe that if I were to push this with him, he could actually thump me.
“I know that!” I said, still keeping up the pretence of that this was all light-hearted. “Of course I know that!”
His posture became less defensive again. He could see I wasn’t going to labour the point, and yet I think he knew that my comment about us being “boyfriends” was far from accidental.
“I mean,” he continued, “if we really were boyfriends we’d… you know… kiss and stuff, wouldn’t we?”
“Exactly,” I smiled. “And we don’t, so we’re not!”
“You keep asking me to, though,” he added with a challenging air.
“I keep asking you to what?” I asked, though I knew full well.
“To kiss you. Like we’re boyfriends.”
We were, perhaps mercifully, interrupted by Jake to ask if there were any more beers in the fridge.
He eyed us both up, me especially, being aware from the oppressive mood he’d walked in on that he’d just interrupted a somewhat uncomfortable exchange.
I opened the fridge to pass him a few more cans as Guy asked him point-blank: “Do you think it’s like me and your dad are boyfriends, Jake?”
He waited until I’d emerged with the cans so he could judge my expression before committing himself to a response.
I smiled neutrally to him as if this was just a bog-standard friendly chat that Guy and I were having. I could see that he’d figured out that this related to the comment I’d made, a few nights earlier, that Guy was ‘special’ to me.
I was thinking, “Come on, Jake, don’t be a dickhead. Play the game for your old dad here.”
He abruptly grinned at Guy like this was all so absurd. “You and him boyfriends? Come on, Guy – that is just so bizarre, it’s not even there!”
“So you don’t think we act like that?” Guy felt it necessary to ascertain.
Again, Jake glanced at me, as if hoping for some sign to let him know what this was about.
I kept my expression warm and casual.
“Of course not,” Jake assured him with another incredulous chuckle. “You’re just like a couple of mates. I mean, I know what else goes on – I’m not stupid – but it’s not like you guys are anything more than… well… just two good friends.”
Guy seemed to visibly relax on hearing that answer and I smiled and nodded to show Jake that he’d done well.
He threw me a quizzical look, obviously keen to know what this was all about, and then headed back towards the living room with his haul of beer cans.
That night, when Guy and I were in bed and I was leisurely sucking his cock while he reached over and fingered my arse with a spit-wettened finger, he muttered to me, in a quiet voice, “It sounds like your kid and his mate are having some fun again.”
I paused in what I was doing to listen out for sounds from Jake’s room. As I’d expected, their rhythm from the bedroom next door was steady and distinct.
I wondered whose turn it was to go on top tonight. They’d been at it every night since that first time when I’d joined them and I’d worked out that they operated a loose rota of which of them would get to mount the other.
I sniffed at the air, hoping to be able to identify from the palpable anal odour that was wafting in from the corridor, which of their bums was the one being penetrated. I’d thought it was Jake’s turn tonight to be the recipient of his friend’s eskişehir escort strenuous attentions, and I was aware that my son’s behind had a characteristically harsh odour which made it instantly identifiable when he was the one being buggered, but it seemed that the smell tonight was curiously different from that. It was as if it somehow combined both of their distinctive anal scents.
However, I was aware that my own arse was kicking out quite a whiff tonight from the ministrations of Guy’s fingers, so I thought that maybe that was confusing the smell from my son and his friend no matter what configuration they’d worked their cocks and backsides into.
Guy pulled out of me and wiped off his fingers. I took my mouth off his swollen and dribbling bell-end and looked up to see why he’d stopped.
“Mind if I pop along the corridor and take a look at what the two of them are doing?” he asked with a smirk. “Your kid keeps his bedroom door open, doesn’t he?”
I chuckled and nodded. “He does, yeah.”
He got up and nipped out of my bedroom, his cock standing upright and bobbing about as he walked, the top half of it sopping wet from my mouth. He clearly didn’t mind being naked in front of my son and his friend: he probably assumed it would excite the pair of them even further to have a big, hairy man standing watching in the doorway with his large, mouth-wettened manhood curving upwards towards them.
I wondered if he’d masturbate as he watched them cavorting on Jake’s bed. I wouldn’t put it past him and the lads would be sure to egg him on. The two of them would love that, rutting on the bed together like rabbits, with our houseguest peering in at them, wanking his big erection off. If I heard Jake call out for him to go in and join them, I’d be sure to intervene – I’d already made it completely clear to my son that Guy was out of bounds for him.
I didn’t mind which other of my male lovers he chose to flirt with, but I’d told him quite clearly that Guy was ‘special’.
After just a few seconds, though, Guy’s face appeared back around my bedroom door.
“You’ve gotta see this, mate,” he whispered with disbelief. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
If Guy had never seen anything like what the two of them were doing, my imagination reeled at the position they must have got themselves into.
As we slowly crept down the corridor, my own larger cock getting tantalisingly close to the alluring cleft between his pert butt-cheeks as I followed right behind him, I became increasingly sure that the smell from Jake’s room bore signature traces of both their backsides.
On the nights when Marcus had been on all fours, allowing my son to pleasure himself using his rear, the smell from their sex had a rather lovely, sumptuous richness to it. That’s not to say it wasn’t obvious what was producing their sexual odour – its assertively anal and sometimes outright crude overtones made it clear it was coming from a lad’s bum being sodomised – but its overall flavour was must arousing and had fuelled several very energetic masturbatory sessions in my bedroom while the two of them had been at it next door.
When Jake was the recipient, in stark contrast, his odour was far more vulgar and carnal: a lot like my own when I’m being similarly used by a man. I wouldn’t call my son’s unmistakeable bum-stink unpleasant and Marcus was certainly vocal in his ardent enjoyment of it but, perhaps understandably, it hadn’t excited me as much as the alternative had.
The smell that was now gathering in strength in the corridor was both harshly uncouth and, beneath that, richly flavoursome.
So who could be fucking whom?
Whatever they were doing, it was making the bedsprings creak as if they were being tortured and the two of them were panting deep and hard. Their breathing was literally heaving: they were both gasping and grunting like they were going flat-out on a pair of rowing machines.
When I got to the door I found that Guy was right: this really was something incredible the two of them were doing.
What struck me first-off was that they were back-to-back. That threw me for a moment: how can two people have sex, whatever their genders, if they’re not even facing one another?
My son was looking towards the headboard of his bed, or perhaps at the black-and-white Arctic Monkeys poster pinned up above it. Marcus was facing away from him, towards Jake’s desk. And the two of them were writhing against each other, panting and gasping as they did whatever it was they were doing with their butts slapping together.
Their erect cocks were both poking upwards in front of them; Jake’s like mine would look, long and thick with the head of it looking dry, and Marcus’ a bit smaller and dribbling precum from his bright purple bell-end.
I turned to Guy and whispered, “What the hell are they up to?”
“Look at their arses, mate,” he said with grin. “They’ve gone and bought a double-ender. I’ve heard about them but I never figured out what gaziantep escort they were for.”
“A double ender?” I asked and then turned back to look at them.
Guy was right: there was something black and glistening connecting their bodies. Emerging from Jake’s arse between his cheeks, then curving upwards again and disappearing up Marcus’ backside. They were working themselves on it, each of them pushing their bums back against it and grunting and struggling for breath as they pleasured themselves with their butt-cheeks keep smacking into each other.
“What the fuck is it?” I asked.
“It’s a dildo, you plonker!” Guy chuckled. “It’s got two ends so you can… well… do what these lads are doing! I always thought they were for women though. One end up the fanny, the other up the arse. Shows how much I know.”
“Jesus Christ! They’re loving it!” I said.
I was amazed at how red and sweaty both their faces were. This was clearly a deeply sensual experience for them.
And I could see how it would be: going butt-to-butt like that. Being pleasured and feeling another bloke’s bum-cheeks pushing against yours. Knowing that the huge sausage that was sliding in and out of your bowels was doing the same to his. His hole just behind yours, receiving the girth as eagerly as yours was.
I could see how this would be a lot of fun and I decided there and then I wanted to try it.
Marcus glanced over his shoulder and breathlessly whispered to my son, “I’m gonna need to wank off, Jake! I’m gonna have to!”
Jake gasped back, “Try to hold off a bit more! I’m fucking loving this, mate! And you do know we’ve got an audience, don’t you?”
The sneaky little shit! Is there nothing I can do without him knowing I’m doing it?
Marcus glanced over at us and looked a little taken aback.
“Are you okay with your dad and Mr Leeson watching us do this, Jake?” he asked.
For some reason Marcus seemed unable to call Guy and me by our first names. Even in the most intimate of situations, like this one, he was unwilling to refer to us as anything other than Mr Leeson and Mr Furlong. I guess it must have just been that he’d been brought up to address his elders with respect.
Jake grinned back at him. “Yeah… I knew they’d sneak a look!”
“They’re both running boners,” Marcus pointed out.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “And I kind of knew they’d do that too.”
I looked at Guy and he smiled back at me. So much for the two of us taking a stealthy peak.
“Okay, wank yourself off, mate,” Jake called out to his friend, “and I’ll finish off too.”
My son could be quite authoritative when it came to sex. I hoped I wasn’t like that.
Marcus grabbed his cock and started jerking his foreskin quickly back and forth; my son did the same on his much larger organ. They both sighed and gasped at the relief of being able to finally include their throbbing penises in their fun and their buttocks started slapping more rapidly together.
They both looked ahead of themselves, both looking in opposite directions, and smiled as they wanked themselves with their fists going at it like mechanical jackhammers, sweeping frantically up and down their grateful erections. They were making it blindingly obvious how much they were loving having two older men watching them masturbate in unison while they were panting and sweating at the feel of being fucked together.
The dildo held itself steady: their arses did all the work and movement, both moving away from it and then cracking their buttocks together as they pushed hard and firm towards each other.
“Jesus, this is so hot!” I said to Guy, standing behind him. “I can’t believe I’ve never thought of doing this!”
“Specialist shops, mate,” he muttered. “You wouldn’t have seen a double-ender unless you’d been in one.”
“Why would Jake have bought one?”
Guy shrugged. “Maybe they both like taking it. Kind of stands to reason, if you’ve got two fellas who both like having it up them!”
I wanted to this myself: of that I was certain. Feeling my buttocks slamming against another man’s, our holes both being fed by the same girth, was something I was determined I would experience and quite soon.
I pressed my erection into Guy’s lovely hairy arse crack, letting it nuzzle my throbbing cock head and gently worked it in and out between his firm, meaty buttocks. He often let me do that to him but wouldn’t allow me to push any further. I could press my stiffened member right up to his hot, sticky hole but he would never open it up for me to slide myself in.
I reached around and wrapped my fingers around his own throbbing organ, rubbing my thumb around his fat, slimy helmet. We were both fascinated to see my son and his friend like this, enjoying their sexual ecstasy with their hands slamming up and down their upright cocks.
The smell wafting over from them was absolutely exquisite. A bit sweaty from the strength of their exertions and a touch cheesy from their fist-beaten cocks, but mainly ripe and crude from what their two arses were smearing down the dildo. The lovely stink of male-to-male anal sex, but this time amplified by two.
They could both smell it too: the big grins on both their faces made that clear. And they were loving it! Loving that we breathing in their stink and that it was making our own cocks throb so hard.
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