I've never written a story like this, so i would appreciate any and all feedback you have for how I can improve my future writing. Thanks and happy reading…
All characters in the story are in their mid/late-30s. My name is Lester Tuell, but most people call me Les.
Backstory:
I met Jax (Preston Perry Jackson, IV if you want to get technical) in high school. I was assigned to be his math tutor. I know this sounds cliche, but Jax was the most popular guy at our school. However, unlike some of the other guys who sat at the apex of the social pecking order, Jax was a genuinely nice guy and was friendly toward everybody. From the first day I met him, he was affable and accepting and made efforts toward pulling me out of my nerd shell. I could go on about the experiences we had in high school, but that would probably get monotonous. Essentially just know that Jax accepted me like a bro, which was a novel experience for the shy math geek back then. He was the first person I went camping with. He was the first person to teach me the rules of football and get me hooked on watching college games. And he was the first person I confided to that I was gay. I didn't understand all the feelings I was having at the time, but I realize now that I was hardcore crushing on Jax and there was a decent amount of hero worship mixed in.
Unfortunately, our paths parted ways after high school with Jax getting a soccer scholarship at a school across the country and my staying local at a state school on an academic scholarship. I was devastated by his leaving, but life goes on. Jax and I occasionally communicated via social media, and I had done a fair amount of cyber stalking over the years to stay up to date on the highlights and milestones of his life, but rarely got a chance to see him after our college years were over.
In the meantime, I had moved on with my life–graduated college, gotten a job, moved up the corporate ladder into middle management, married a nice guy (Dave/David), and bought a house. By most metrics, I had all the trappings of a successful life.
Present Day – Twenty-Year High School Reunion:
I normally wouldn’t bother attending my high school reunion. The only reason I RSVP’d was because I had seen a post from Jax on social media that he was planning to attend. It was a two-day affair with cocktails on Friday night at a local restaurant and a Saturday afternoon family picnic. When I arrived at the restaurant on Friday, the entire bar area was already full of people that I only half recognized wearing name tags and sloppily drinking colorful drinks. I wove my way to the bar and ordered my usual gin and tonic while I scanned the room for Jax. At the far end of the bar nearly twenty people were clustered around a central figure—Jax. He was commanding the room just like he did in high school with a score of people pressing in just for the opportunity to be near him. All of my high school insecurities came back while I sipped my drink alone at a bar stool fearful that he might not even remember me.
“Les,” I heard my name shouted across the bar and looked over to see Jax waving at me from the center of the people fencing him in. I smiled and gave a noncommittal nod in his direction. He announced to the group that he needed to go catch up with his best friend Les and rudely pushed his way out of the stunned crowd. Yes, he called me his best friend. I was glowing.
“How the hell are you, man?” he asked as he threw his arms around me in a massive hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“You, too,” I stammered back feeling too stunned by his attentions to say more.
Jax: “Where’s your husband? David, right? Is he here tonight?”
Me: “Couldn’t make it, but he should be at the picnic tomorrow.”
Jax: “Great I was looking forward to meeting him. So, what’s up with you these days?”
I proceeded to tell Jax my life story while he kept attentively prodding me for more information. Several times classmates came up and attempted to talk to Jax, but he kept blowing them off by saying “I’m catching up with my friend, Les. Maybe I can find you later.” It was like no time had passed. I was right back in puppy dog mode in complete admiration of this god who commanded everyone’s attention, but for some reason chose to spend his time with me. We chatted about everything for hours. Through the class president making his speech. Through several missed texts from my husband. Through several ignored notifications chiming from Jax’s phone. The crowd thinned while Jax and I kept drinking and talking about the good ole days until eventually the bartender announced that it was last call. “I got you, buddy,” Jax said as he handed the bartender his credit card to close us out.
I sipped my last drink as slowly as I could trying to extend my time with Jax. Eventually we made our way to the parking lot and went our separate ways with plans to see each other the next day at the family picnic.
Saturday I was rushing Dave to get ready so we could get to the picnic early. I wanted to spend as much time with Jax as I could. At the picnic, a surprising number of people greeted me by name but quickly betrayed their true purpose when they asked where Jax was. I was constantly scanning the cars pulling into the parking lot hoping the next would be Jax’s rental pulling in. Dave and I made small talk with several of my classmates and their families throughout the afternoon, through hamburgers and hotdogs being served from the grill (and an embarrassing mustard stain on my shirt). I was talking to a classmate and her squirming toddler when I noticed Dave fixating on something behind me. I heard Dave swallow a gulp of air and then whisper “holy shit” under his breath. I turned to see what had Dave’s attention and striding across the lawn was Jax looking like he had just stepped off the pages of the Ralph Lauren spring catalog. My god, he was a beautiful man. His salmon-colored polo hugged his chest and biceps in all the right places and his khakis strained against his thick thighs.
“You must be Dave,” Jax said to my husband whose voice literally cracked when he tried to respond. I would say that I was jealous of my husband being so taken with Jax, but honestly, this always happened when Jax was around. People couldn’t see me when they had the option of looking at this Greek god.
Throwing his arm around my shoulders, Jax said to me, “I am in desperate need of a drink. Want to show me where the bar is, little buddy?” He then looked at Dave and asked if we should get him anything. My husband practically giggled and batted his eyes when he asked for a Coke.
There was something about standing next to Jax in front of my husband that made our differences more amplified. I had maintained my geeky frame from high school, maybe with a little bit softer middle than I used to have while Jax had just filled out over the years. He was several inches taller than I with a broad frame and hard muscles. Where my hair had started to thin, Jax was sporting a full head of thick hair as well as an ample amount of hair poking out from his open collar and thick hair on his forearms.
During the remainder of the afternoon the three of us continued to talk. Dave was obviously taken with Jax and when Jax mentioned that he was in town for the week, my husband immediately insisted that we would have to have Jax over for dinner. “Do you have plans tonight?” my husband asked. “I know Les would like to catch up with you.” My husband’s transparent ploy was nearly laughable as it was obvious that *he* wanted an opportunity to spend more time with Jax, but I wasn’t complaining. Jax graciously accepted the offer, and a plan was made that Jax would follow us home after the picnic.
In the car, my husband was practically giddy. I think if it had been anyone else, I would have been jealous, but I knew how hot Jax was and couldn’t blame my husband for being attracted to him.
“How did you manage to get a friend that hot?” my husband asked before realizing what he had said and tried to backtrack.
“I’ve wondered the same thing myself,” I replied. My husband’s question may not have been asked in the most diplomatic way, but it was true. There was no world in which someone like Jax would have been friends with someone like me, but here we were.
Back at the house, drinks were poured, and I fished out some steaks from the freezer that I hoped I would be able to thaw and cook within a couple of hours. I plopped them in a low oven to bring them up to temperature slowly and then the three of us made ourselves comfortable in the living room.
Drinking eventually turned to drinking games where we started playing “Never Have I Ever” which quickly devolved from PG-rated statements like “Never have I ever visited a foreign country” to racier statements like “Never have I ever been caught masturbating”. Over the course of the game, I learned several things. First, my husband has a far more colorful sexual past than I was ever aware and second, Jax wasn’t as straight as I had always assumed revealing that he had hooked up with several guys over the years. Jax claimed that he still identified as straight but admitted that he “wouldn’t pass up a good piece of ass when given the chance”. As the two of them volleyed with more salacious statements and invariably both had to drink. I was starting to lose my buzz with my vanilla sexual history.
“Never have I ever tied someone up and dominated them” was the statement that resulted in Jax finishing off his drink and suggesting that we play a different game. “How about Truth or Dare?” my husband quickly suggested. “I’m game,” said Jax. I nodded in agreement.
As before, the first rounds of banal truths and unimaginative dares eventually became more audacious requests. To one of Jax’s Truths, I asked what kind of guys he had hooked up with in the past. “I usually like guys who are a couple of years younger, thin, and hairless with nice pouty lips.” Jax looked at my husband, who he had described perfectly, and winked. My husband’s face reddened instantly. When it was my turn, I picked Dare and my husband dared me to swap clothes with Jax. I looked to Jax unsure how to respond as the Dare involved him as much as me. “Yeah, that’s cool. I need to take a piss anyway,” Jax said as he got up and walked toward the bathroom.
I followed Jax into the bathroom where he had already stripped off his shirt and dropped his pants and was stepping out into just his boxers. He sidled up to the toilet and I had a view of his muscular, V-shaped back. I hadn't seen this much skin on my friend since our high school days and the years had been very kind to him.
I peeled off my shirt and pants down to my briefs and then asked what about our underwear? Jax’s forceful urine stream was hitting the side of the bowl when he looked at me over his shoulder saw the briefs I was wearing and said, “I don't think that's going to work, little buddy.” I agreed and reached for Jax’s clothes off the floor. Pulling on the pants I had to cinch the belt up to its last hole and still roll the waist over to keep the pants from falling off. I pulled Jax's polo over my head and my nostrils filled with the smell of his aftershave. Jax finished peeing and was flushing the toilet as I left him to get dressed in my clothes. I waddled back to the living room where my husband immediately started laughing at the comically oversized outfit. Within a couple of minutes Jax followed looking incredibly uncomfortable. My shirt wouldn’t even close across his chest with only a couple of buttons that barely reached across his stomach. My pants, straining against his thick legs, couldn’t be fastened and the fly had been left open revealing his bunched up striped boxers. The sleeves barely passed his elbows and the pants only reached his shins. Both Dave and I erupted in laughter with Jax joining in.
“You look like the incredible hulk,” Dave said between laughs.
“Oh, yeah?” Jax retorted as he hunched forward to a weightlifting pose and flexed. One of the buttons popped at his abs and then we heard the sound of the seams ripping across his back. “Oh fuck, dude. I’m sorry,” Jax said trying to extricate himself from the ruined shirt eventually pulling it off and revealing a muscular chest covered in course, thick hair. Unable to tear my eyes away, I just replied that it was not a big deal, and it was probably already ruined from the mustard stain earlier anyway.
“I should probably take these pants off before I split them, too.” Neither Dave nor I lodged any objections with Jax having to force the pants inside out in order to peel them off.
I offered Jax his clothes back and he gave a non-committal shrug saying, “if you boys don’t mind, I usually just hang out in my boxers anyway.” Before either of us could object (which neither of us seemed inclined to do), Jax plopped himself in the middle of the sofa with his legs spread wide and his arms spread on the back of the couch. I sat in a remaining corner of real estate left on the couch and Dave retook his place in the chair across the coffee table.
Dave to Jax: Truth or Dare?
Jax: Truth.
Dave: How big is your dick?
Jax [shrugging]: I don’t know. I’ve never measured.
Dave: C’mon. Every guy has measured.
Jax: Not me. It’s the insecure guys who are obsessed with measuring their dicks.
Jax winked at me when he said this. I’m not sure what that wink meant, but it seemed as if he was suggesting that I was insecure about my dick, which I am, I guess. I have been measuring my dick my whole life in hopes of it getting bigger, but to no avail. If I am having a very good day and cheating the ruler a bit, then I am just shy of being average.
Jax [cocking his head toward me]: Ask your husband. He can tell you how big it is.
Me: I don’t know. I’ve never seen your dick.
Jax: Really? But we’ve, like, changed clothes together.
Me: Yeah, but I never looked at your dick.
Jax: Why not?
Me: I was worried that it would make things weird between us. I was afraid you would think that I was attracted to you.
Jax: You weren’t?
Me: Well, yeah, of course I was. But I was afraid that if you knew that I was crushing on you, then you wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore.
Jax [reaching over to ruffle my hair]: Awww, little buddy, that is so sweet…but I knew. Fuck, dude, everyone at school knew you had a crush on me. I thought it was flattering.
I punched Jax in the shoulder. Damn, his shoulder was hard. It was like punching a concrete wall.
Me: Dave, I never saw Jax’s dick, but I will tell you what his nickname was in high school.
Jax [leaning in with interest]: I had a nickname? Because of my dick? I’ve never heard this story before. Tell me.
Me: They used to call him “two cans”.
Jax and Dave were both confused.
Dave: Toucan? Like the parrot? Toucan Sam?
Jax [dismissively]: Oh, that. Yeah, they started calling me that when I broke my nose junior year. My nose was all swollen and bruised, but that didn’t have anything to do with my dick.
Me: No, dude. Not the parrot. They weren’t calling you “toucan”. They were calling you “two cans”. One of the cheerleaders started it.
Jax and Dave still not hearing the distinction between the two.
Me: Two cans. Like two [holding up two fingers] can-zzzz [emphasizing the s sound].
Jax and Dave still confused and looking to each other then back at me.
Me: Like two cans of soda…stacked on top of each other.
Dave finally nodded with understanding the reference and then his eyes went huge with comprehending the meaning. Jax’s expression took on a far-off puzzled look. Jax brought his left hand up and posed his fingers holding an imaginary can of Coke, judging its diameter and weight. Then he brought up his other hand as if holding another can of Coke and positioned the two imaginary cans of coke on top of each other with both hands still gripping the pretend cans. Then Jax moved the two cans to his crotch and took a couple of tentative strokes simulating masturbation before realizing that both Dave and I were staring at him trying to puzzle through this.
Jax [shrugging]: Yeah, I can see that.
Dave’s face went white as a sheet and his jaw literally fell open as his eyes shot to Jax’s boxers-clad crotch. Dave swallowed hard trying to regain his composure but he was visibly breathing harder.
Dave: Can I see…I mean, can we see it?
Jax [playfully winking at Dave]: Nah. Your turn’s over. I guess you’re just going to have to use your imagination.
Me: Okay, fine. It’s my turn. Jax, Truth or Dare?
Jax [chuckling]: Whatever, dude. Dare, I guess.
Me: I dare you to take your cock out and show it to us.
Jax: You sure about this, little buddy? I mean there are some things in this world that you can’t unsee.
Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cut the crap. Whip it out, Two Cans. Let’s see what all the fuss is about.
Jax: I tell you what, little buddy. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. Dave can be the judge of whose is bigger.
Me: What’s the point? We all know who has the bigger dick. We just want to see it.
Jax: Fair is fair, dude. If I have to whip mine out, then so do you.
Dave was looking at me with pleading eyes. It was humiliating to see the look of desire in his eyes and know that it was meant for someone else. I took a deep breath and stood up. I had been sporting a boner for the last hour hiding it with the oversized clothing. I had felt a wet spot of pre-cum forming in my briefs that I hoped hadn’t bled through.
Jax: Looks like someone’s ready to go on a camping trip with that little tent you’ve popped.
Me: Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.
Jax [feigning insecurity]: I don’t know that this is a fair comparison. I’m still soft, but if you’ve got an erection then you have the advantage here.
Me [anticipating the inevitable embarrassment]: It’s not a competition. You’re just showing your dick.
Jax: Hummm. That’s an interesting idea. What if it was a competition?
Me: What do you mean?
Jax: Like a bet. If I’m bigger, then you have to be my drink bitch for the rest of the night.
By way of emphasis, Jax finished off his drink and shook the ice in his glass indicating that he needed another.
Jax: If my soft dick is bigger than your hard dick, then you have to get me a new drink whenever I ask for it tonight…and whatever else I ask for.
I wasn’t at all confident that I stood a chance of winning, but I probably would have gotten my friend as many drinks as he wanted anyway, so the stakes didn’t seem that high. My greater concern was having my husband see our two dicks side-by-side and having that image burned into his memory forever.
Me: Fine. And if I win, then you’re my drink bitch.
Jax was still seated on the sofa making no move to stand up.
Me [impatiently]: Well…are we going to do this or not?
Jax: You go first.
Me: I never agreed to that.
Jax: Look, we both know I’m not going to chicken out. If you want me to show my dick, then you go first. Dave, your husband is shy. Go help him out. Pull down his pants.
Dave jumped to Jax’s command without a word and knelt in front of me with his hands on my waistband. Dave pulled down my pants and underwear. My cock, still at full mast, popped out.
Jax: Lift your shirt up, Les. Whoa. I was not prepared for that. It’s not just short, but it’s thin, too. Are you sure that you’re fully hard?
Me [annoyed by his comment]: Yes, it’s hard.
Jax: Dave, stroke him a bit. Make sure that your husband is fully hard. This needs to be a fair comparison.
Dave obeyed and I felt his warm hand wrap around my cock and slowly jerk me a few times. A drop of pre-cum oozed from the head and dripped to the floor. Jax rose and stood beside me putting his gorilla-sized arm over my shoulder.
Jax: This is going to be easier than I thought. Davey boy, do you want to do the honors?
Dave nodded vigorously and quickly scooted over in front of Jax. Jax’s huge bulge filled the front of his boxers. It looked like Dave drew in a deep sniff before moving his hands to Jax’s waistband. Then, almost ceremoniously, Dave started to slowly pull down Jax’s boxers. Inch-by-inch the lowering waistband revealed the full bush and then shaft of a cock that seemed to go on forever. When the boxers were lowered enough that they cleared the bulbous head and Jax’s full length was revealed, Dave was audibly panting. “Two Cans” may have been an exaggeration, but not by much. Even soft, Jax’s cock was a massive piece of meat that hung between his legs. Jax reached down and grabbed his cock and shook it to emphasize that it was still soft and flexible compared to my dick that was reddened and throbbing. Jax even pivoted and slapped his dick across mine with my dick failing to support the weight, dropping, and then popping back to attention.
Jax: Well, Dave, I guess you’re the official judge. Who’s going to be the drink bitch? Me or my little buddy Lester Tuell? Wait, dude. Your name is Lester Tuell. Your parents literally fucking named you “Less Tool”?!? God damn, dude, that is the most cuck name I’ve ever heard in my life. How have I never realized that before now?
I rolled my eyes. I had endured the “Less Tool” moniker since kids started teasing me about it in elementary school. If Jax genuinely wasn’t aware of my nickname, then he was a much better person than even I thought.
Me [feigning annoyance and trying to push Jax off of me]: Maybe because you’re not very bright, you big ape.
Instead of releasing me, Jax bent the arm around my shoulder trapping me into a headlock and forcing me to bend over. He used his knuckles to roughly rub them into my scalp.
Jax: C’mon, little buddy. Don’t get your panties in a twist just because your parents gave you a bitch ass name. You know I’m teasing you because I love you, Less Tool.
I was genuinely pushing as hard as I could to get Jax to release me from his iron grip nearly tripping over the pants that were still around my ankles.
Me [voice cracking]: Let me go you jerk.
Jax [chuckling at my impotent squirming]: Awww, don’t go getting all mad, little man. That’s no way to talk to your betters. If you tell me who the drink bitch is, then I’ll let you go.
Me: Me, alright. I’m the drink bitch.
Jax: And why is that, Less Tool?
Me [sighing with exasperation]: Because your dick is bigger than mine. Are you happy?
Jax: Supremely happy, little buddy. Now be a good drink bitch and go refill my glass.
Jax held me in a headlock for a moment longer than was necessary as if emphasizing that he was only releasing me because he chose to do so and not because I had any hope of escaping on my own.
As soon as my head was released, I reached down to pull the pants back up noting with some amazement that my dick was still rock hard after the tussle. Jax, however, stepped out of his boxers and left them on the floor as he returned to the sofa sitting down with his legs spread wide while the length of his cock easily reached the cushions and the head rested comfortably with a turned-up end.
Jax [smug with his victory]: My glass is over there, drink bitch. And be quick about it, would you?
I grabbed the glass with an annoyed sigh and headed toward the kitchen, but before I reached the door, Jax called out to me in a sing-song-y voice.
Jax: Oh, drink bitch.
Me: What?
Jax: That was rude. Shouldn’t a drink bitch refer to his master as “sir”?
Me: What else would you like, good sir?
Jax: Why don’t you get your husband a shot of that Fireball while you’re in the kitchen.
I agreed haughtily and went to retrieve the drinks, taking a generous shot of Fireball myself while checking on the steaks in the oven. They still needed some more time. I returned with the drinks. Dave was a lightweight and already had the tell-tale signs of being drunk. Jax took his drink and downed most of it in one gulp.
Jax: I guess it's my turn. Dave, Truth or Dare?
Dave: Dare.
Jax: I dare you to strip down and give Les and me lap dances.
Dave shot me a look.
Jax: Les doesn't care, do you, bud? Go ahead and find a song that Dave can shake his ass to.
Maybe Dave was hoping I would save him from the embarrassment of stripping. Instead, I chuckled along with Jax knowing how insecure Dave was dancing in front of people, but that's the point of Truth or Dare, right? Plus, I had already endured the humiliation of dropping my pants and fair is fair. I scrolled through my phone until I found a pop song that I knew Dave liked to sing along to and played it over the living room speakers.
Dave stood nervously and started to sway to the music tentatively unbuttoning his shirt. Jax and I hooted and encouraged him to continue. By the time the chorus came around, Dave was starting to get into a groove and peeled his shirt off. I teased Dave knowing that he must feel embarrassed and assumed Jax was doing the same, but when I looked over at Jax, it seemed as if his huge cock had started to swell a bit and then I saw it twitch.
Jax: That's it, baby. Take it all off. Show us your juicy ass.
Dave was getting into the show now turning to poke his butt out while he unfastened his belt. I was surprised when Dave finally dropped his pants to see that he was wearing his red jockstrap. I know he had been wearing boxer briefs earlier when we got dressed for the picnic and I wondered when and why he had switched to the jockstrap.
Jax: Look at that fuzzy twink ass. You could take a bite of that peach, couldn't you, Les? Dave, give my buddy Les a lap dance.
Dave dutifully obeyed and turned to sit down in my lap supporting his weight on my knees. As he began sliding his ass back and forth across my lap, my erection returned and the situation didn't seem as humorous as before. My husband had a beautiful ass.
Jax: Slap it, Les. Show Dave how turned on you are by that ass.
I slapped Dave on the ass lightly.
Jax: C'mon, Les. Don't be a pussy. Let Dave know that you want to own that ass.
I slapped a bit harder, and Dave let out a yelp. Jax reached over and nearly cupped Dave's entire butt cheek with his enormous hand. He squeezed and jiggled Dave's butt.
Jax [to Dave]: Yeah, that's right, baby. You're looking for an owner for this juicy ass, aren't you? [To me]: You've got to show your man who's boss, Les. These bottoms want to serve.
I tried slapping Dave's butt harder. My boner was throbbing as Dave bounced and rubbed in my lap.
Jax: There ya go, bud. Now you're getting into it. But don't forget you're wearing my pants and I don't want your spunk painted inside them.
Dave continued to grind in my lap until the song ended and then he rose to return to his chair winded from the exertion.
Jax: Hold on, baby. You're not done yet. You still owe daddy a lap dance.
As the next song started, Jax spread his legs even wider and patted his inner thighs. His cock was obviously more swollen than it had been earlier but still not fully erect. Dave moved in front of Jax and started to lower himself into Jax's lap. Dave was still wearing his jockstrap and it suddenly dawned on me that his bare ass would be rubbing against Jax's bare cock. I wasn't sure if I should stop this or not, but Jax had put his hands behind his head and scooted forward in anticipation and Dave didn't seem apprehensive anymore, so I just watched in awed silence as Dave hovered above Jax's lap.
Jax: That's it, baby. Show daddy some love.
Jax moved his hands to Dave's waist and was pulling him into his lap as he lifted his crotch up to meet Dave.
Jax: Fuck, Les. You are a lucky man having a hot little fuck boy like this in your house. Look at how this ass jiggles.
Jax continued encouraging Dave and Dave was showing no signs of embarrassment. This situation wasn’t funny anymore. My husband was grinding his bare ass against my best friend’s lap and I was too stunned to know how to stop it.
As the song ended and Dave started to stand up, Jax pulled him by the waist back into his lap. “Not so fast, Davey. Why don’t you sit here in daddy’s lap for a while and keep me warm. Your husband won’t mind.” Jax looked over to me and winked as if suggesting it was all in good fun.
Jax instructed Dave to hand him his drink from the coffee table which Dave dutifully retrieved and handed to Jax. Jax finished the drink in one gulp, and as he thrust the empty glass in my direction he said to Dave, “tell the drink bitch want you want, babe. He can go get us both another round.” Still too stunned to talk, I took the empty glass from Jax and Dave’s order and slinked out of the room with Dave still in Jax’s lap and giggling conspiratorially when Jax whispered something in his ear.
My mouth felt like it was full of cotton and I realized that my hands were shaking as I tried to refill the glass with ice. I needed time to collect myself and took a healthy swig of whiskey from the bottle before refilling Jax’s glass. I mixed Dave’s drink and then realized that the steaks in the oven needed to be tended and rearranged. The wireless thermometer had to be linked to my phone and the set-up took several minutes, but by the time I had that handled I felt calm enough to return to the living room with the fresh drinks.
I reentered the living room behind the sofa and didn’t see Dave in Jax’s lap. I was momentarily relieved thinking he must have gone to the bathroom (and was hopefully getting dressed) until I got closer to the couch and saw that my husband was on his knees in front of Jax struggling to get his lips around Jax’s thick shaft. Dave and I have hooked up with other guys before over the years, so seeing Dave fellating another guy wasn’t new, but it had never been like this before where I felt like the third wheel. I looked at the glasses in my hands realizing that I was literally fetching them drinks while they were hooking up!
“That’s it, babe. Look up at me with those Bambi eyes while you slide those dick-sucking lips down my cock.”
I cleared my throat loudly. Dave started gagging and tried to sit up, but Jax put his hand on the back of Dave’s head and instructed him to keep going.
Jax: Hey, Les. Your husband dared me to get my dick hard and I guess that was all it took. Your husband here is one of the best cocksuckers I’ve ever had. Just look at how he’s struggling to take as much as he can. That’s it, babe. Worship daddy’s big cock. Don’t forget to play with my balls, too.
Jax extended his free hand for the drink I had made and took a big swig as he continued to push my husband’s head up and down his cock.
Me [unsure what else to say]: Umm…this is Dave’s drink.
Jax: You can go ahead and drink that, buddy. Dave is busy right now. Why don’t you have a seat over there.
Jax off-handedly motioned to the chair across the room. I sat down more because my head was spinning than for any other reason and took a deep draft of the drink my husband had requested.
Jax: Damn, Les, did you know your husband was this much of a cock-slut for a big dick? The boy was practically begging me to let him suck my cock. That’s it, baby, you’re doing a great job. Yeah, that feels great. Keep going.
I struggled for words as I watched my husband on his knees with his bare perky ass poking out. My dick was rock hard listening to my husband’s gagging and Jax’s deep guttural groans of pleasure. As weird as this situation was, I was definitely turned on and eventually decided that a three-way with Jax and my husband didn’t have to be a bad thing. I stood up and started to make my way over to the couch to join them, but my phone let out a piercing alarm right then.
Me: Oh, fuck. It’s the steaks. They need to come out of the oven or they’re going to over-cook.
Jax: Steaks sound awesome, man. Why don’t you go get dinner ready and Dave can give me a tour of the house.
I started to object, but the phone let out another alarm letting me know that the temperature of the meat had climbed another degree.
Jax: It’s cool, Les. Go be a good host and take care of dinner. Dave and I can entertain ourselves.
I had been dismissed. I stomped back to the kitchen and threw open the oven door, nearly burning my hand when I reached for the pan without a towel. I was so fucking angry, but at what? Was I angry at Jax for being such a fucking stud? Was I angry at my husband for being so quick to cheat on me? No, I was angry at myself for not stopping this! I slammed around in the kitchen grabbing pans and taking supplies from the fridge. My dick was still hard. Did that mean that I was aroused by all this? I was too confused and keeping my hands busy preparing dinner gave me something to focus on and I started losing myself in the activity and calming down. What the fuck did “Dave can give me a tour of the house” mean?
I finished dinner preparations in record time and laid out the meal on the table. They should have been done touring the house a long time ago. I climbed the stairs and saw that the door to the master bedroom was closed and there were the unmistakable sounds of sex coming from within. I vacillated unsure what to do. I knocked on my own goddamned door!
Me: Hey, guys, dinner’s ready!
Jax: We’re almost done here, Les. We’ll be down in a minute.
What the fuck! Was I supposed to barge in and force Jax off my husband? From the sounds I heard, Dave was clearly not doing anything against his will. I returned to the table with my tail tucked between my legs.
I sat at the table. The house was silent except for the noises that drifted from upstairs. I waited. I scrolled through my phone. I checked the time. I decided to fix everyone’s plate just to stay busy. I pushed the food around my plate with the fork. Would it be rude of me to start eating without them? It didn’t matter; I wasn’t hungry at all. I got up and fixed myself another drink and then went back for a second. My head was swimming. It had been more than an hour and the noises from upstairs had been steady the whole time. I just listened.
I heard the bedroom door open and the sound of bare feet slapping down the stairs as Jax bounded into the dining room still buck naked with his meaty flaccid dick swinging between his legs.
Jax: This smells amazing, Les. I’m famished.
Me: Where’s Dave?
Jax: He passed out. I think he had a little too much to drink.
Me [sourly]: Yeah, I bet.
Unphased by my passive aggressive comment, Jax sat down and started hungrily cutting into his now cold steak. The only thing I could think about was that Jax’s bare sweaty ass and lube-slicked dick were now probably staining the white upholstery of the new dining room chairs Dave and I had just bought. I would need to look up how to remove lube stains from damask.
Jax [talking while he stuffed food in his mouth like an athlete in training]: This steak is amazing. Is that paprika I taste? This is the best Caesar salad I’ve ever had. Did you put anchovies in the dressing? When did you get to be such a good cook, Les?
The flattery was jarring. Dude, you were literally just balls deep in my husband and now you want to ask what spices I used to cook your fucking meal?
Jax: I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed a night like this, Les. It feels good to be able to blow off some steam with a couple of bros, doesn’t it? Fuck, this bread is the bomb. I haven’t eaten gluten in years, but for bread this good, it might be worth the extra gym time.
This was all too surreal. Jax was jumping from topic to topic in the same frenetic stream-of-consciousness way he had done in high school. I was watching his pecs flex and strong jawline as he shoveled bite after bite into his mouth like a caveman, barely chewing.
Jax: Your husband is a fucking hellcat in the sack, Les. He was way overdue for a decent fucking. He was as tight as a virgin on prom night. Hey, do you remember Brian getting fucked up at our prom night and puking his guts all over Tracy? Didn’t they get married? Is this dill or fennel on the Brussels sprout? Oh yeah, about Dave; once we got him loosened up, he took charge and rode me like a bitch in heat. Can you get me another drink, buddy? Maybe water this time. I’m parched. Even after he shot his load, he just kept begging me to fuck him harder and harder. Kept moaning that he had never been stretched out like that before.
By the time I returned with a bottle of water for Jax, he was soaking up the last of the au jus with a piece of bread and pushing his chair back from the table rubbing his swollen stomach in a satisfied way and reaching down to rearrange his balls.
Jax [crinkling the plastic of the water bottle as he downed it in one swig]: Thanks man, that was amazing. You know what I’m craving right now? A cigarette. Do you have any?
I went to fish out my emergency pack from a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a bowl we could use as an ashtray. Dave had a strict rule against smoking in the house, but fuck him and his rules. I sat opposite Jax as we both lit up and slowly dragged on our cigarettes.
Jax: It’s getting pretty late, man. I think I’ve had too much to drink to drive back to the hotel. I’m just going to crash here tonight.
Me: Yeah, that’s fine. I can make up the sofa for you.
Jax: I’ll never fit on that sofa, Les. It’s too short. I’m just going to crash upstairs with Dave and you can sleep on the sofa tonight.
On the surface, Jax’s tone seemed jocular, but there was an edge of authority in it as well. Was he asking permission to spend the night with my husband, or was he simply stating what was going to happen?
Jax: You won’t mind sleeping on the sofa. Dave told me that sometimes you sleep there anyway.
Ouch. The comment stung. It was true that occasionally Dave or I would sleep on the sofa, but I wondered why Dave would have shared such an intimate detail about our private relationship with Jax.
Me: Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. The extra linens are upstairs in the main bedroom though.
Jax: That’s fine. Why don’t you go ahead and grab them now? I’m beat. I’m going to head to bed in a few. Just going to grab another bottle of water.
I climbed the stairs again, but this time the door to the bedroom wasn’t closed. Even from the hallway, I could smell the odors of sex drifting out of the room. The bed was in complete disarray and Dave was passed out face down on top of the covers snoring contentedly. I cautiously approached and could see that his once tight, pink hole was gaping open and a trail of sticky fluid was leaking out of his ass. Was it too much to expect them to use a condom?
Jax [standing at the doorway]: Yeah, sorry about your husband’s hole, buddy. He’s probably going to be too loose for you for a while. Did you already get yourself a blanket?
I awkwardly stammered that I hadn’t and got up to retrieve the extra blanket and pillow from the closet. Jax practically escorted me out of the room and as soon as I crossed the threshold, he told me to sleep well and closed the door in my face. Then I heard the sound of the lock clicking into place.
I stood at the door bewildered by what had happened. I heard what I imagined being a slap to a bare bottom and Dave’s groggy moan of having been awakened. Through the door I heard Jax ask if he was ready for round two. I couldn’t make out Dave’s reply.
Jax: Yeah, he’s fine. He offered to sleep downstairs tonight.