Anal Awakenings

Author: wilde_sort@ntlworld.com Story: Anal Awakenings Part Two

(c) wilde sort

m/f, m/m/m

Thanks to everyone who emailed me about Anal Awakenings Part 1. I'd love to hear what you think about part 2... obviously the filthier and more detailed your thoughts the better... Don't know yet if there'll be Part 3. I'd be interested to know where you think it might go - what would turn you on? I have some ideas, but it might be best to leave our gallant heroes where they are...

These characters live on my hard drive, and so they don't need to use condoms. The reality of sex is that we often act from complex motivations, and not always in our own long term interests. Everybody should enjoy getting fucked if that's what they want, but take responsibility for yourself and others and make informed and empowered choices about condom use, whatever that may mean for you.

The favourite sexual position of most of my girlfriends has been missionary. I can understand that. One ex once told me that she enjoyed the sense of closeness and mutuality that she felt when we were face to face; that we could kiss each other and look into each others' eyes.

I don't really think that's it. Most women, in my experience, have difficulty facing up to their true desires and pleasures; talking about their sexuality in terms of intimacy and emotional closeness feels safe. It seems to me that missionary can be intimate and sensual, but let's get real - it's a wonderful position for women to experience submission in, as it's the most passive. To me the intimacy stuff is about justifying and legitimising the pleasure of submission - about taking away any sense of humiliation or exploitation.

I feel like I have a better understanding of sexual submissiveness since I let my gay best friend fuck me. There's something dangerous and wanton about making yourself truly passive. I can understand why women might want to construct an emotional way of handling that - after all, they have to eat a lot more shit in the world than men. If that's your life experience then to stand any chance of enjoying subjugation in a sexual context you're going to need to find a way of understanding it as something other than subjugation - like intimacy. What made getting fucked okay for me was that I'm pretty secure in my masculinity. A lifetime of rugby playing and womanising - what better macho credentials can a man have?

But I understand where my ex was coming from when she said that she enjoyed the closeness and mutuality of missionary. Getting fucked up the arse was a big deal for me - I'm straight, for god's sake - but I love my friend Tom like a brother. Getting sexually intimate with him felt like a natural extension of getting into a scrum together - his macho aura, the sheer masculinity and power of his physical presence felt like a reflection and reinforcement of myself. And who am I kidding? The fact that I love having my arsehole played with helped a lot too! I've been fingering myself for a long time, I even tried a girlfriend's vibrator once - hated it - felt hard and unnatural. I love fucking women up the arse; for me it's the ultimate sense of intimacy I can experience, and I'm now getting my head round the fact that this is because I can relate to what my sexual partner is experiencing, as well as appreciate the extraordinary sense of sexual power that it gives me.

For what it's worth, if I'm going the conventional route, my favourite position is to have her riding my thick cock. I enjoy a sense of separation. I'm an incredible voyeur - I've always been aroused by porn - and when I'm on my back with a gorgeous woman using me, I can lie there and watch her, and watch my cock going in and out of her, and the pleasure of watching intensifies the pleasure of the intercourse. What man doesn't enjoy seeing his cock moving in and out of the cunt of a woman he desires? What greater sense of validation can he ever get of his masculinity, of his potency? I guess my answer would be, to see my cock moving in and out of her arsehole. Fuck, that gets me off! I love it when women enjoy getting buggered. I love the fact that they know they're not supposed to like it - that it degrades them as women - and yet they still can't help themselves.

After my night with Tom and his boyfriend Jude I thought that I'd done serious damage to myself. At first I was euphoric - if I'm honest, I'd always been curious about what it would feel like to be fucked. My first experience was pretty extreme, not only in terms of accommodating Tom's huge cock up my hole, but in terms of what it did to my head. It's a disconcerting thing for a virile, macho straight man to experience his most intense sexual pleasure with another man. Tom and I haven't really spoken since. I'm not proud of that - he's my best friend. But I don't really think we can deal with each other right now. It feels awkward. In the cab on the way home my sense of euphoria had already stated to ebb away. Sitting on the car seat was painful - my rectum felt damaged, really ruined, and that was scary. I had visions of shitting blood, of having to go to casualty and try and explain what I'd been doing.

It was then that I really felt the shame of what I'd done for the first time. I don't have a problem admitting to myself that I like having my arse played with. I have a major problem with the idea of other people knowing about it. I'm a big man. I'm over six and a half feet tall, and broad shouldered. In the last few years my belly has slackened and filled out, but I'm still in shape. I have a professional, well paid job. I'm used to being treated with respect, of moving through the world anticipating it making way for me. I'm not used to people sniggering behind my back. One of the reasons I respect men like Jude, Tom's boyfriend, is that they manage to maintain a sense of dignity, of personal power, despite the fact that most people around them perceive them to be gay. Jude's not effeminate, but he certainly isn't macho. He's good looking in a boyish sort of way, and he has an open, personable manner. Many of his gestures and expressions are rather exaggerated - he can be very camp. I don't want to have to deal with the kind of shit men like Jude have to deal with, same as I couldn't cope with the kind of constant low level humiliation women have to process daily. I'm not about to allow my personal tastes to undermine my social status.

Emma's tits have a wonderful sense of fleshy mass about them. She's fairly well endowed, and they hang low on her chest. As she rode my cock they swayed heavily with a delicious light slapping sound as their weight swung them out and to the sides and then back into her body. I wanted to reach up and cup their weight in my hands, I wanted to feel my hands full of her tits; but I was enjoying their free movement too much to compromise it. Instead I concentrated on watching her face as she fucked herself vigorously. Her broad mouth was slack with pleasure whilst her eyes were screwed up in concentration. I knew that this was a good position for her. My cock bends upwards quite markedly - what you might call a banana dick. If I let her wriggle around on top of me I know she can line up the head of my penis with the root of her clitoris as it hits the back of her vagina.

Emma is lousy at giving me head, but she more than makes up for it with her sincere conviction that my penis is very large. It isn't, but her relative lack of experience, and my relative thickness and curviness happily coincide to give us both what gets us off. Looking at her face I knew that the head of my cock was hitting that G spot every time she sank down on to it. She was making lovely grunts and pants of exertion as she pumped herself up and down. Her knees were astride my thighs and she was leaning back on her hands. Her whole body seemed presented towards me. Her untrimmed bush glistened moistly, and I could see the pinkness of her outer lips curling and uncurling around the shaft of my cock as it moved in and out. The angle of her body was pulling my penis down and away from my belly, causing a thrilling tension in my groin. I could feel my pleasure building, could feel the heat in my loins intensifying. I sat up and leaned into her body, cupping her plump buttocks with my hands, and drawing my knees up behind her. She pushed herself up on her knees and held still as I started humping up into her. My thrusts were fast and hard and she grunted sharply each time my cock banged up her. She let her arms fall against my back and I pushed my face into her tits, revelling in the smell of her. She started to cum, yelping out her pleasure in thrilling gasps as her cunt tightly spasmed on my shaft. I groaned deeply into her tits as my penis started pumping my orgasm into her. I felt big and powerful, surrounded by softness, by Emma's deliciously yielding femininity. As our climaxes subsided she sank down into my lap, absently stroking my hair. I felt our juices dampening my thighs. I put my head back and found her mouth with my lips. She kissed me passionately. Her tongue felt small and soft in my mouth. My stubble felt rough and crude against her skin. I pulled her towards me strongly; I felt my softening cock pulse in her cunt as her breasts mashed up against my hairy chest. Gently she pushed me back down on to the bed, and followed, snuggling into my armpit. Her left leg was still thrown over mine, and the head of my cock was still lodged just inside her.

We lay there companionably for a while, listening as our breathing returned to normal. I loved these moments with Emma. She was always so contented by our fucking. She never ruined our post coital bliss with anxious queries about how it was for me, or with passive aggressive little pointers about how it could be better for her.

'Let's have Tom and Jude over for dinner on Saturday' Her head was tucked under my chin; she was absently fingering the hairs on my chest, 'You haven't seen Tom for a couple of weeks, and you know how much I like Jude.'

'Yeah, he really likes you too.' I kissed the top of her head, 'I forgot to tell you that Jude asked me to send his love the last time I saw them.'

'It'll be fun to see them. We could make cocktails - the last time we had margueritas Tom was hysterical.'

'Yes he was.' My tone was flat and unenthusiastic.

'What's the matter, don't you want them to come?' She tilted her head up to look at me.

I didn't know what to say. Wrapped in Tom and Jude's arms with a belly full of their cum and Tom's piss, my arsehole truly liberated, all I'd wanted to do was come home and share with Emma my sense of euphoria. I'd wanted her very badly then. Had wanted exactly what we now shared. I'd wanted to hold her and murmur my intimate desires into her hair and feel her great comforting approval as she put her arms round me.

The next Friday, I couldn't wait to get home. It'd been a shitter of a day, and I longed to get out of my suit. As the road eventually cleared I pushed down hard on the Saab's accelerator and felt a delicious corresponding roar from under the bonnet. The day's only consolation was that I'd managed to get out of the office at lunchtime; Marie had held back the tide of incoming bullshit for an hour and a half and I'd managed to get up to Soho. I glanced at my briefcase on the passenger seat next to me. I'd bought a beautiful leather strap on for Emma, complete with the most perfect jet-black dildo. It curved upward at the end and had a series of deep ridges around its head. It reminded me, in shape and size, of Jude's penis. My arsehole contracted in my underpants. It felt tight and clenched. I couldn't imagine it spreading to accept the dildo, let alone Tom's massive member. I felt a painful pang in my chest as I thought of my best friend. What was I doing ignoring him? And yet it didn't feel okay to imagine contacting him. I was confused.

Emma, bless her, had anticipated my day. The house was in darkness as I closed the front door behind me. I found her in the dining room, surrounded by candles, holding out a large tumbler of single malt towards me. I felt a rush of warmth for her. As I took in what she was wearing I felt my penis stiffening uncomfortably in the confinement of my pants. She'd loosely tied her hair up. Strands of it had escaped, accentuating the length of her neck. Her magnificent breasts were pushed upward and out by a black lacy bra that I hadn't seen before. She was wearing a long sheer gown that tied just under her breasts. As I looked closer I could see that she wasn't wearing pants. I felt my breath coming more heavily. To complete her upmarket whore look she'd put on a pair of spectacularly elegant high heels. I took a gulp of malt. I felt it burning in my throat as I roughly crushed her to me. She'd clearly been anticipating my return. As I pushed my tongue into her mouth she sucked on it eagerly, groaning and writhing against me. I loved the feeling of her squirming body through my suit. I loved her semi nakedness. I cupped her breasts and pushed the bra up over them. They escaped enthusiastically, and bounced warmly and heavily against my hands. We were panting into each other's mouths. She was frantically trying to get my dick out, but was feckless in her excitement. I let go of her tits and opened my belt and trousers. My penis sprang up against the bottom of my shirt as I pushed my trousers and underwear over my arse and down my thighs, and then felt thrillingly sandwiched as she crushed herself against me. My cock felt hot against her belly. I had to have her, right now.

I turned her round roughly and pushed her down onto the dining table. I draped her negligee over her plump rump and exposed her bare bottom. She tilted her pelvis back towards me. I grabbed my cock and pushed it against the notch of her vagina; she was very wet. She wriggled slightly at the contact and I bent my legs to get the angle right. I pushed forward strongly and we both gasped as my penis slid right up inside her. Blood rushed to my head and it pulsed with heat. I could feel the rhythm of my pulse behind my eyeballs. I didn't pause for either of us to get used to my being inside her, but started thrusting in and out. I looked down and watched as her lips curled and uncurled frothily around my girth. Her arsehole looked tight and inviting, winking at me just above my cock. I stuck my fat thumb in my mouth, wetting it, and then pushed it against her anus. She moaned at the touch and started humping roughly back against me as I pushed my thumb into her arse. I was screwing her hard and crudely. There was no finesse to my movements. I banged out the frustrations of the day and heard myself groaning deeply. I knew I wasn't going to last long, and from the urgency of her panting, I knew she wasn't far off either. I pulled my cock out of her cunt. It glistened in the candlelight. I pushed it against her anus. Emma turned to look back at me. Most of her hair had escaped and her tousled tresses framed her face.

'Please. Yes. Fuck my arse.' I still hadn't got used to Emma with a dirty mouth.

Thankfully I was leaking pre-cum like a fire hose. That and the coating of her juices was just enough. I pushed forward, a little more gently, and felt her anus contract around my cock head. My breathing was ragged. I waited a moment, and then felt her arsehole dilate.

'Oh God.' She dropped her head back onto the table as I pushed my dick up to the hilt; she rolled it violently as I started packing cock in and out of her arse. The tightness felt overwhelming. I grabbed her hips and pounded her, relishing the slapping of her buttocks against my thighs. I felt her shifting slightly as she pushed a hand down to her cunt. She wriggled as she started masturbating with her characteristic urgency. I loved how much pleasure she got from having her arse stuffed. I had a better sense now of what she was experiencing. Her groans were deep each time my cock filled her up. She made high-pitched crying sounds as her orgasm hit and her arse released a series of wet farts around my cock as her anus spasmed. The rhythmic gripping of her climax pushed me over. I staggered against her as the heat consumed me. I held my penis hard inside as it pumped spunk into her rectum.

We took the bottle of malt to bed. We frequently ended up in bed early on Friday evenings; being tucked up under the duvet felt like a comforting nest for both of us. We could process the week, pick from take away food cartons, sip whiskey, unwind our tensions, and all the time engage in low level, sporadic sex. I had the tip of my left index finger lodged between the lips of her cunt. She was feeding me a juicy chunk of satayed pork. I chewed on it noisily, relishing the rich sweetness. I swallowed the pork and took a swig of single malt. My head was buzzing pleasantly. I felt warm and relaxed.

'I've bought you a present.'

Her eyes shone expectantly. She knew it was something sexy. A couple of weeks ago I'd brought home a French maid's uniform. She'd had a colossal orgasm as I'd ripped it off her, fucking her hard up against the kitchen door.

I got out of bed and padded over to my briefcase, which I'd thrown on a sofa in the corner. My cock swung between my thighs, making a thick slapping sound. It'd lengthened considerably just thinking about the beautiful leather harness.

Her eyes had widened fearfully when I first showed it to her. I think she'd thought it was a bondage device. I knew that for all her enjoyment of submission she hated the idea of being tied up - I'd tried to tie her wrists to the bedposts once and she'd started sobbing.

I buckled her into the harness and she caressed the leather lovingly. She looked amazing in it. She caught my eye and laughed. She started dancing round the room, the dildo bobbing obscenely in her crotch.

We drank a lot more malt. I got out my digital camera and took some amazingly horny pictures of her brandishing her new cock as I jacked off.

Later we were back on the bed. My tongue was down her throat. My hand was in her crotch, my index finger and thumb encircled the base of the cock, whilst the rest of my hand pushed under the harness into her wet cunt. My cock was very hard.

'Would you like to try fucking me?' My voice was thick and quivered as I spoke.

'Would you like that?' Her voice was full of questions. This clearly didn't line up with her image of who I was.

I slathered the dildo with lube and got on all fours in front of her.

'Hold my hips and push it against my hole.'

I could feel movement behind me; the dildo poked my buttock. I heard her giggle. I rested my head on the bed and reached my hands up and parted by arse cheeks. She got the dildo in my crack, but it was too high.

'Lower.' I gasped in frustration.

Suddenly it jabbed inside me. I howled. She gasped an apology and I felt the rubber cock withdraw.

'Try again.' This wasn't working for me. I felt slightly ridiculous. There was no sense of will coming from her. No urgency. No feeling of control. I had no confidence that she could fuck me as I needed.

This time she pushed the dildo inside gently. My arse opened easily and I felt it slide, jerkily, inside. Her hands felt small and light as they gripped my hips. I ground back against the dildo; it was starting to feel good. My cock, which had shrivelled, started to thicken. I moved back against the shaft inside me, attempting to intensify the sensations inside; but rather than brace herself against me, she moved back with me. I panted in frustration. I had no sense of being taken. I wanted her to take charge. I wanted her to fill me with her lust, I wanted her to take the initiative, to transcend her natural passivity. She started jerking the rubber cock in me, but there was no strength in her thrusts, and no real movement occurred inside me. I longed for the feeling of friction I'd felt as Tom's penis slid in and out, rubbing against my anus and prostate.

I started wanking my semi-hard cock, but I knew I wasn't going to cum. I'd had too much whiskey and wasn't aroused enough. I pulled myself off the dildo. It came out with a slurping plop. I felt rather stupid and childish. I didn't want to face Emma; I'd offered up my sexual power to her and she'd been unable to respond with any kind of sexual authority of her own. I felt humiliated. My arse stung.

She looked sheepish and deflated, and wouldn't meet my eye. I instantly felt a surge of affection for her. I enfolded her in my arms and pulled her towards me, and she snuggled her head under my chin. The dildo poked my thigh; the lube and my anal mucous made it cold against my skin. I heard her sniffing, and pulled her face up towards me; there were tears in her eyes.

'Sweetheart, what's the matter?'

'I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' Her voice was small and fragile. 'Do you still want to take care of me?'

Early in our relationship, as we'd been enjoying a particularly exhausted post coital moment after I'd fucked her in just about every conceivable position and made her cum screaming my name, she'd asked me if I wanted to take care of her. At the time I'd felt a surge of masculine protectiveness, and crushed her to me, reassuring her with gruff avowals. Now I knew what she was asking, what she'd been unable to relate to. For her I was a protector, a safe place to explore her deep desires for sexual submission. She was my baby, and I was her man. No wonder she'd not been able to fuck me worth a damn - she didn't have a script for that, didn't have any desire to dominate me, didn't have any ability to take a protective, controlling role in relation to a man who turned her on precisely because of his intense machismo. Anal sex for her wasn't about probing the boundaries of sexual roles, of opening up dirty, transgressive possibilities: it might have been a dark, wild and kinky pleasure for her, but it was one that reinforced her traditional identity, rather than unsettle it. I knew that her sexual willingness, and her appreciation of my masculinity, her lust, fulfilled a fundamental need in me. But I also realised that there were places in my identity I needed to explore that I'd never be able to share with her.

Later, whilst she was soaking in a bath I'd run for her, I called Tom. Emma and I had chucked the strap on under the bed, and then I'd made love to her. Lying on top of her as I fucked her cunt, stared into her eyes, and whispered tender obscenities, I'd exulted in her pleasure in my virile dominance.

Tom answered on the third ring.

'Sorry I haven't called.' I didn't announce myself.

'That's okay, matey. I figured you were feeling a bit thrown off track. I wanted to leave you alone till you were feeling okay.'

'I need to see you.'

'Thought you might. Come round tomorrow night. Jude's got choir practice.'

'Thanks.'

We didn't do much talking, at least not for the first couple of hours. He opened the door, and seeing the look on my face, immediately enfolded me in a strong bear hug. I relaxed into his chest and he tightened his arms around me. I rested my chin on his shoulder and put my arms around his waist. He was broad, but firm. He'd stopped playing rugby some years before when he'd got into yoga and meditation. I hadn't believed that anything as flaky as yoga could have kept a man like Tom in shape, until he'd taken me to one of his Astanga classes. I'd panted my way through the class like an old man, watching him elegantly slide and glide from one extraordinary shape to another. Of course, I knew that Tom liked indulging his feminine side, as only a man with as much quiet machismo as he had can do without anxiety. It was quite something to see Tom, with his shaved head, tattoos and practically shaggy torso, padding around a yoga studio with bright red toe nails. I loved him for it.

Eventually he pulled out of our embrace.

'What do you need, me old fruit?' His voice was soft; his eyes were warm.

'Tom, I need you... to take care of me.'

He led me towards the bedroom. His hand, holding mine, felt cool and strong.

He undressed me with quiet efficiency. I stood, calmed by his economical movements. I'd observed Tom in moments of high excitement - not least when I'd watched him fucking the living crap out of his boyfriend Jude - but he always exuded an air of containment, of calm, reasonable self control. He didn't meet my gaze as he unbuttoned my shirt, and took off my tie, but watched his own hands manipulating the task at hand. I became aware of the rhythm of my breath as he took off my shirt, and I felt the air playing across the hairs on my chest. Each of his movements sent out ripples and eddies of draft in the space between our bodies. His hands on my belt were deft and light. The coarse, sexual sound of my zip momentarily broke the almost meditative atmosphere in the room. He eased the jeans over my chunky buttocks, and let them fall into a puddle at my feet. Ignoring the bulge in the front of my trunks, he crouched at my feet and unlaced my shoes and unrolled my socks. He gently lifted each foot in turn, and I stepped free of my trousers. The deep pile of the carpet was deliciously luxurious against the naked soles of my feet.

His head, dark with stubble, was level with my crotch. I could hear him breathing heavily. I looked down. There was a yellow stain in the front of my white pants, which were being pushed out by my rapidly engorging penis. Unlike many men, whose dicks hang from their bodies straight down, mine, even when soft, juts out at a 45-degree angle. That and the size of my balls, means that I display a man sized package, which is especially gratifying given that my dick isn't huge; I'm pretty thick, but nothing spectacular. My cock wasn't fully erect, but poked impressively outwards at Tom. Under his calm, restrained gaze I felt my excitement build. Eventually he gently put his fingers under the elasticated waistband of my pants. The cooler air felt delicious where I'd been constricted, hot and sweaty all day. As he pushed them back over my bum my dick throbbed. Tom pulled the strap wide at the front and pulled the pants clear of my penis, which slapped up against my belly. I was so hard it hurt. I felt an urgent need for some kind of relief. My breath was coming hard. A shiver ran down my spine and made me wriggle deliciously.

Tom encircled the base of my cock, and pulled it down off my belly. He leant forward. I could feel his breath on my wet glans. I'd given up trying to teach Emma how to give me a decent blowjob. She just wasn't very orally orientated, and I have to confess that neither am I. She didn't enjoy having my meat in her mouth, and so didn't relate to it in a meaningful way. Tom might be able to fuck men's arseholes in a way that had them believing they'd seen the face of god, but he was also clearly extremely oral. He took my cock in his mouth like he was savouring every sensation it had to offer him. He slowly rolled my penis round his mouth, breathing heavily into my bush. He was taking in its every smell and taste, exploring every ripple and contour of my foreskin, sucking up every drop of my pre-cum. It felt spectacular. I rested my hands on his bald, stubbly head, which felt weird, but thrilling - I was used to having my hands knotted in women's long soft hair while I fucked their faces. Here I was with Tom's butch cranium under my hands, behaving more passively whilst getting my knob sucked than I'd ever known. I was literally swooning as he made love to my cock. When he'd finished with the head, licking up all the fluids and tastes he could find there, he slowly swallowed the shaft until his nose was in my pubic hair.

His mouth was warm and wet, a squirming agile interior that engulfed my throbbing penis like liquid velvet. Tom's hands grasped my buttocks, firmly pulling my cock down his throat as his fingers nestled in my crack. His touch was firm and controlled, and the contact with my sweaty, hairy butt was grossly intimate. I spread my legs to allow him greater access, and groaned as his index fingers met at my anus, lodging just inside my wrinkled pucker. We were locked like that for what seemed like hours, until he removed one of his fingers; my dick was still down his throat as he reached his arm up towards my face, middle finger stretched out towards my mouth. I leaned forward and took his long thick finger in my mouth. It tasted salty, and slightly bitter. I sucked on it greedily, coating it with saliva. When I'd slathered on it so much that drool was running down his arm, Tom removed his finger and then I felt its cool wetness at my hole. Tom sucked hard on my cock, and firmly pushed at my arse. His finger slid right inside, in one surprising movement. I gasped at the inner contact, shocked at how relaxed my sphincter was. He rotated his finger and my legs buckled as he pushed hard against my prostate.

By the time he'd got three fingers up my rectum I could barely stand. My head was pounding and I was pushing my arse down onto his hand. My cock was still in his throat, but had softened somewhat. It felt disconcerting to be overwhelmed with such intense pleasure and yet not feel any orgasmic heat consolidating in my dick.

At last I felt the fingers withdraw, with some sense of relief. It felt intolerably frustrating to be so stranded in deep sensations with no build towards climax. The shock of the cool air on my wet penis made me gasp as Tom withdrew it from his mouth and stood up. He crushed me to him and with my nakedness pressed against his clothed, hard body, I felt slutty. My arse felt loose and open. I was shocked when he leaned forward and kissed me. The saltiness of his mouth, the roughness of his skin against mine, yielding to moist silkiness inside, felt thrillingly intimate. But this was my best friend. Having his tongue firmly exploring my mouth felt so much ruder than having his hand up my butt. Our stubble chafed and I moaned into his mouth, tasting him, feeling my mouth flooding with his saliva. My cock was again stiff and demanding. I felt consumed by him, even more than when, with his penis deeply buried in my gut, he'd filled me with his cum and piss. I could feel the hard mass of his cock in his pants, pressing against my naked thigh. We'd crossed a line and our friendship would never be the same. I pushed the thought from my mind. I needed this too much to doubt it.

Tom pulled back from the kiss. 'Tim, what do you want?'

'You know what I want... I want you.' I felt thrown, humiliated.

His gaze was hard, evaluating me. 'What do you want from me?'

'I want... I need you... to fuck me.' My voice was small.

'Why, Tim? You're straight.' There was a glint in his eye, but his face remained deadly serious. I relaxed a little.

'I need your cock inside me.'

'Why?' His voice was harsh, but his eye still glinted. My cock throbbed.

'Because I'm a slut. Because I love having my arsehole stuffed with dick.' Something had been released in me. I couldn't stop. 'Because I want to be taken, dominated. I need you to use me, to want me... I just want your cock in me.' I dropped my gaze to his chest.

He crushed his mouth against mine, and I felt his tongue possessively exploring, this time much more passionately.

'Get on the bed. On your back.' The bottom of his face glistened with our saliva. His voice was still hard, but I could hear it quavering with desire.

I turned and climbed on the bed, and lay on my back, propped on my elbows so I could watch him. He'd already shucked his trousers and shirt. As I watched he slipped off his pants. I felt a shock of lust and fear as I saw his penis. I've read a lot of porn. It's easy to convey the idea that his dick was very big, but all those words, massive, huge, throbbing, don't really do justice to what I saw right then. The size of his penis was impressive in itself, but not in some abstract way, but because it was fleshy and veiny, this member that swayed between his legs. It had a sense of mass about it: it looked heavy, it was broad and bent to one side and upwards, with a thick foreskin pushed partially back by his huge red glans that poked out of the end. It stuck out from his hairy body horizontally, bobbing as he moved. I was fearful, because of its size, but I was more shocked by its realness. This wasn't a dildo, or the symbolic idea of a big cock; this was a warm, pulsing organ that was coming towards me, that was going to be inserted inside my body, that would feel hot, that would move inside me and excrete gross fluids, finally flooding me with sperm. This penis had a will behind it: I'd lost control of this situation. I was going to get fucked, hard, continually, until this cock had reached its conclusion, until I'd accepted its warm fluids in my belly. My heart thumped in my chest.

I spread my legs wider. My own cock ached in its hardness against my tummy, leaking pre-cum into the hairs there. The bed sagged as Tom climbed on. There was no awkwardness, just purposeful control, as he lifted my legs up and wrapped my inner thighs round his waist. I moved my elbows out from under my torso and lay back on the bed. My breath was coming in ragged gasps. Looking down he adjusted his cock and lined it up against my hole. He reached over to the side of the bed and deftly pumped some lube into his hand. I briefly felt his sticky finger probing me, and then I felt the warm, blunt, spongy head of his penis pushing against my anus. My cock jumped as I opened my arse and felt him push into me. I again felt a strong urge to shit, as I had last time, and it felt gross and thrilling. I cried out loudly as he pushed the shaft inside, and my arse felt stretched and electrified by the friction. As my rectum filled with his meat I wanted to piss. I rolled my head on the pillow, overwhelmed. There was still movement through my anus, a delicious tight friction of hot skin against hot sticky skin. I felt stuffed, couldn't imagine there was any more room for cock inside me.

Finally he stopped packing cock up me and held still. I felt gorged. Sweat was pouring off me. My arse, stuffed with dick, was pulsing little tense contractions round his thick shaft. Tom reached down and grasped my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and rolled them firmly. Liquid heat burned in my chest and I tossed my head from side to side. My anus let out a slack fart as it relaxed. His penis slid further inside and I cried out at the sensation. Fully relaxed, I was stunned at the intensity of pleasure deep in my arse. I shifted my buttocks in his crotch and felt the hardness of him moving against my inner walls. It was an astonishing feeling, moving against him, fully relaxed and sensing the thickness embedded inside. I moved again, more strongly, and felt his shaft press against my prostate. A thick stream of pre-cum pulsed out of my cockhead. I looked into Tom's face and saw him watching me, and under his curious, but calm gaze, I felt heat move across my body. I spread my legs as wide as I could, unfolding them from around his waist. With my buttocks still resting on the top of his thighs, I braced my legs against the bed and shifted my rump backwards, off his cock. The movement inside me was obscenely vast, and I felt a quick pang of panic: I imagined by bowels being pulled out with his cock. The space inside me felt intolerable and I pushed myself back down onto his shaft, gasping in relief as my rectum was again full of my best friend's meat. An appreciative smile played at the corners of Tom's mouth. My slack hairy belly heaved as I starting humping myself on Tom's big meat, establishing a strong rhythm, grinding my arse into his loins. Tom took a hand away from my nipple to brace himself against the force of my movements. With his other hand he grasped my dick and slowly wanked me.

'Oh shit. Oh shit. Fuck.'

I felt like I was tripping out. My eyes were rolling back in their sockets. My body felt suffused by hot waves of pleasure. And all the time I was aware of Tom's hard evaluative gaze. Never had my sexual behaviour been so abandoned, so surrendered, so lacking in control. I felt a cramp developing in my legs, which were shuddering from the effort of fucking myself, but I couldn't stop. Pleasure expanded in front of me, limitless, and I threw my head back and cried out for it to consume me.

Tom's breathing was becoming more ragged, and he started to grunt as the pleasure of my friction on his cock forced him to move. Letting go of my penis, he pulled my legs up onto his shoulders and bent them forcefully towards my chest, straightening his own legs out behind him. He pushed his dick hard up inside me and then started long continuous strokes fully in and fully out of my arsehole. His fucking became faster and harder, until all I could do was grunt under his assault. My arse was letting out a continuous stream of staccato farts on Tom's outward movement, rapidly cut short as he shoved his cock back inside. I ached for contact with my dick, but my body was so severely bent in two that I couldn't get a hand to myself without stopping Tom's movements and sliding my arm between my chest and thigh, and there was no way I was going to interrupt his vigorous rhythm. Drops of cold sweat were falling from his forehead and nose onto my face and chest.

'You. Fucking. Love. It. Don't. You.' Tom gasped at me, working hard at the fucking, staring deeply into my eyes.

I felt very naked under his gaze.

'Yes. I love you fucking me. Fuck me. Fuck me harder.' I felt bold and wanton, but grunted in pain as he took me at my word and slammed his penis up me like a weapon.

'You. Straight men. You're. All. The. Same.' His words punctuated his thrusts. 'The. Butcher. You are. The. More. You. Want it.'

I just groaned under the barrage he was unleashing on my exposed, slackened arsehole.

We were panting and heaving with ever greater urgency. The energy we were expending, him slamming into me, whilst I humped back up against him, was extraordinary. Our fucking was rough; energetic in a way I'd never experienced with a woman. I felt the pleasure building and building within me. I couldn't have imagined such intense sensations could rip through me without my body exploding. That this was happening as a function of my body being so roughly used, bent double, so as to be unable to touch my own throbbing genitals, would have been unimaginable a few weeks ago. Now I could hear myself moaning and begging incoherently, almost sobbing as Tom pounded me.

Shockingly I felt myself cumming. I was stunned as my cock started jetting sperm. It hit me in the face, neck and chest. Hot thick ropes of cum stuck in my hairy torso, and then more pooled on my belly. I could feel my arsehole clamping around Tom's fat dick, and he cried out, ramming in me viciously and holding his penis inside as he shuddered between my legs, pumping his spunk into my belly. My orgasm continued to crash through me in waves. I still hadn't touched my cock, but could see it between my legs, jumping on my stomach. It continued to pulse sperm, which was drooling from my cock head onto the hairs below. I hadn't come so much since I was a teenager. Tom was prolonging the last moments of his own orgasm, jabbing his cock in my bowels, and grunting, when he started violently. I heard a sound behind him, and reluctantly regained consciousness of the room around us.

Jude was stood in the doorway, slowly clapping.

'Spectacular show, gentlemen. You can join me in the living room when you're ready.'

As he walked down the hallway, Tom and I looked at each other dumbly. I'd been so wrapped up in my own explorations, in my own transgressions, that I hadn't considered the implications of us having sex on Tom's relationship with Jude.

Tom pulled his cock out of me abruptly. I grunted as I felt the thick mass being roughly withdrawn, and it cleared by slackened hole with a rude slurp.

'Get dressed, Tim.' Tom had already pulled on sweat pants and was reaching for a t-shirt. I hadn't got into my underwear when he left the room. I felt rather desolate. One of the most intense experiences of my life had been cut short. I was reeling, trying to make sense of the complex, and not entirely pleasant, emotions buzzing through me. I'd come here to try and resolve what had become a severe conflict between my social and emotional identity as a man and my sexual urges. Having just had the most intense orgasm of my life, having just been willingly fucked to a point of incoherence, by my best friend, the man I felt closest to in the world, he'd abandoned me, even before the cum had dried on my body. I didn't know what I wanted from Tom, but it wasn't this.

I heard them murmuring as I approached the living room. As I walked in I could see them hugging near the couch. I felt awkward. An intruder. Abandoned. My rectum felt raw and painful, and I could feel cum and lube oozing into my pants, making a sticky mess.

Tom had his hands in Jude's thick, wavy hair, was consoling him. Jude saw me over Tom's shoulder and smiled - not as warmly as the last time I'd seen him, but still affectionately.

'Jude, I'm so sorry... I don't know what to say.'

Jude broke away from Tom and walked towards me. He took my hand and we moved towards the sofa.

'Now Tim, don't start getting into a guilt frenzy. Me and Tom aren't monogamous, you know, and I was, shall we say, involved, the last time you and Tom got naked.' He smirked at me and my arsehole contracted, oozing out more cum. 'But as Tom very well knows,' he leered at his boyfriend, 'we have ground rules about fucking other people. And one of those is that we don't do repeat business with outsiders. Another is that we don't rub each other's noses in our extra curricular activities. Much as I enjoyed your rather spectacular display, I think it most definitely counts as rubbing my nose in it. If Tom wanted to have sex with you again he should have made sure I was here too, otherwise it just feels too fucking sneaky and disrespectful.'

Tom passed us both tumblers containing generous measures of his scotch. I gratefully took a long slug of mine, relishing the burning warmth as it slid down.

'I didn't come here to come between you guys.' I paused and looked at Jude. When he nodded his understanding, I carried on. 'I didn't even expect us to have sex. I've been in a bit of a mess since what happened between us, and I needed to talk to my best friend. Trouble is, he's part of the problem...' I trailed off miserably.

'Oh for fuck's sake, Tim, what's your problem?' Tom was exasperated, but there was still softness in his voice. I felt dislocated: this was the man who'd been fucking my brains out not ten minutes earlier; whose cum was dribbling down my leg; whose sweat had mingled with mine and dried in crusty patches on my face and shoulders. Now here we were trying to make rational sense of all of this, like grown ups. I wasn't ready to be a grown up. I wanted to languish in bed, making sense of my feelings.

Jude took my hand in his and absently stroked it. 'Tim, are you having trouble coming to terms with your bisexuality?'

I roughly pulled back my hand. 'I'm not bisexual. I'm straight. I've got a girlfriend.'

'And you like getting fucked up the arse by gay men!' Tom's voice was incredulous.

'But I'm not sure that I fancy men.'

'There's different ways of experiencing desire, Tim.' Jude had shifted on the sofa to face me. His body language was soft and unthreatening; I could see that he was trying to placate me, yet his manner was so charming that I could feel myself being seduced. His eyes shone with passion. 'You're clearly very excited by having sex with men. But you're used to relating to other men in competitive, male bonding environments. Let's face it you're a pack leader, you're powerful, respected, you expect to be treated with a degree of deference to your authority... If I didn't know you as I do, I'd dismiss you as a macho shit head. Perhaps you need to get used to the idea that whilst that might be important to your identity in the world, you also have another aspect to your identity that's about being more sexually...' He trailed off, unable to find the right word.

'Passive?' Tom was smirking at me cheekily.

I felt some of my disorientation slip away. They might have been forcing me to tackle difficult stuff, but they were both such warm, affectionate men, that I felt cared for by their calmness and generosity. The whiskey was hitting the spot, and I started to feel less of an outsider, more included again. Even a little flirtatious.

'I prefer the term actively receptive myself.' I pouted at Tom.

Jude howled with laughter. 'Oh you definitely looked actively receptive to me, you horny slut!'

'Bitch!' I lunged at Jude, wrestling him off the sofa. We rolled onto the floor, each trying to get on top of the other.

I could hear Tom laughing above us. 'Girls, girls, girls!'

Jude and I were a sweaty, heaving mass. We were both grunting and giggling in equal measure. He managed to pin one of my arms under his knee and got my flies undone. I got free and lifted my feet to his chest to push him away; we rolled to one side as we tussled and Jude grabbed my jeans as we separated. As Jude pulled at my Levis and trunks they slid down my thighs, exposing my bottom. I howled, in laughter and in outrage, and lifted myself onto my hands and knees, instinctively trying to cover my nakedness. Jude had rolled away and was trying to lever himself upright. I lunged at him again, pinning him down. He giggled uncontrollably as I stuck my hand down his pants. His cock was hard. I realised that mine was too when I felt a sharp smack on my backside. As I wavered under the assault my cock slapped up against my belly.

'You're very naughty boys. You're going to have to be punished.' Tom slapped me again. He could barely keep a straight face, but he was also flushed. His dick made an obscene lump in the front of his sweats. He slapped me again, but this time neither of us found it funny. I was looking over my shoulder at him; I could feel my hairy cheek stinging like hell. He was looking intense.

'God your arse looks red...' He slapped me again. He exuded a calm excitement; he was watching my rear end with concentrated curiosity. I loved the sense of possession he exuded; I suddenly felt still, patient. I was waiting for the next move he would make on me. He caressed my buttocks, enjoying the heat under his palm. Jude wriggled under me. I turned back to look at him and he leaned into my face and kissed me. His touch was softer, more exploratory than his boyfriend's. Jude's hands were in my crotch, massaging my cock. Tom smacked me again. He wasn't being particularly vicious; more than the severity of his hits, I was enjoying his feeling of control.

'Shit your arse looks sexy.' He pushed his fingers into my crack. I was still sticky from our earlier fucking. He fingered my slackened hole roughly. I felt slutty.

'Jude. Go and get the lube. I'm going to fuck you stupid.'

Jude didn't hang about, but hauled himself from under me and jogged off down the hall. Tom's fingers were still up my arse. He pulled them out and started stripping off his clothes. My arse felt empty, but I got to my feet and stripped too. I felt a little disappointed that I wasn't going to get fucked, but I understood that this was about their relationship. Tom needed to show Jude he was still his man.

Jude came back brandishing the bottle of lube. 'Let's party! And this time, if you don't mind, I'll be the star attraction!'

Tom sat on the couch, with his big dong sticking up; a gross, fleshy mass, ridiculously proportioned, intensely thrilling. I took a chair at right angles to him.

Jude stood just inside the doorway; he threw the bottle to Tom, who deftly caught it. Jude reached for the hem of his top and pulled it up over his head, then stretched his arms up to release them from his sleeves. He dropped his arms, holding the top in his left hand as it trailed on the floor. The hair in his armpits was surprisingly dense and dark. He had a cocky, adorable expression on his face. His tousled hair had fallen over one eyebrow, and his eyes sparkled under Tom and I's gaze. Jude's chest was smoothly contoured, in a toned, lithe kind of way. I've never understood why so many gay men value bodies that don't look real - bodies so manicured they don't look like they have a smell. I'd always imagined that a taste for such idealised, unnatural perfection, was associated with fancying men, that if you got turned on by looking at knobs, you'd appreciate plastic bulges. For me the appeal of bodies is in their corporeality - their smells and textures and excretions. I couldn't imagine getting aroused by studying or touching skin that looked pre-formed. Given my increased heart-rate at the sight of Tom's man-sized cock I was getting my head round the idea that I might be aroused by men's bodies. It was a startling revelation for a man obsessed with women's arses; who loved to hold their swinging breasts as I banged their butt-holes. What was particularly striking about Jude's chest were his nipples, which were extremely large and dark; I hadn't noticed them the last time we'd been naked together. His swimmer's torso was smooth and hairless, and his belly button bulged outward slightly, which I'd never seen before. I found myself becoming breathless with curiosity as he reached for his pants. I'd had my hand on his cock only minutes before, but now, as he stripped for our pleasure, stalling us as he fingered the waistband of his Calvins, I felt a strong, surprising desire to see his erection poking up out of his bush.

I didn't have to wait long. Jude was in too much of a hurry to keep us in suspense. His pants came off in one swift movement, and as he stood up, leaving them lewdly discarded on the floor, his cock bounced against his hairless, firm belly. He wasn't circumcised, but unlike Tom and I, his foreskin fully retracted when he was hard. There was a deep ridge behind his glans, but they themselves were quite slender, coming almost to a point. No wonder he'd got up my arse with such relative ease last time.

I ended up watching them passionately kissing, writhing against one another, for some time before getting involved myself, and only then because Jude turned his cute green eyes toward me and made a suggestion so exciting that I nearly wet myself.

They were an attractive couple. They'd been seeing each other for about six months, and Jude was practically living at Tom's place. You could tell they were still in the zone. They'd known each other long enough to have ironed out all the awkwardness. Long enough to know what made the other close his eyes and exhale in ecstasy. Not too long that stimulating such a response had ceased to be fascinating. Jude's lithe, smooth slimness made a striking contrast with Tom's stocky hairiness. Tom had tattoos across his shoulder and down his left arm to the elbow, with more on his right leg and in his groin. His shaved scalp looked rude and phallic against Jude's shaggy locks.

I realised that something fundamental had shifted in me as I watched them. My cock throbbed. Not because I anticipated them playing with my arse; we'd gone way past the point where my interest in them was purely to do with sensations they could offer me. Seeing Tom's lips sucking at Jude's dark nipples, I felt desire rise in me. Desire to feel Tom's soft and moist mouth on me, to feel the stubble of his cheek chafe me. Desire to suck on Jude's nipple and feel it hardening under my tongue. I think I'd justified my previous sexual encounters with this gay couple by imagining that if I let them do stuff to me it didn't compromise my masculinity. I now realised that my masculinity was always going to be intact. Tom was one of the most macho, and yet most gentle, men I'd ever met. What was no longer intact was my heterosexuality. I fancied these two queer men having sex in front of me, and I had from the moment I'd first seen them fucking. Just like I fancied Emma, fancied, in fact, practically every woman whose arse could make my cock rise. I was bisexual.

I watched as Jude slathered Tom's dick with lube; I could see it jumping in his hands. He was kneeling between his boyfriend's legs. Tom was practically lying on the couch - thankfully it was big enough to accommodate him, being one of those broad, deep affairs, covered in acres of dark, matt leather. Jude got up and climbed onto the sofa, feet either side of Tom's waist. He crouched down over his boyfriend's crotch, grabbing the back of the sofa for support. As Jude's arse came in range, Tom grabbed his penis and held it steady. There was a concentrated fluidity to their movements. They'd obviously done this many times before and were focussed by their intense desire. Tom's face was serious, his chest rising and falling deeply. I stroked my hard cock, feeling blood rush to my face. Jude gasped when he felt Tom's glans at his anus. My view was extraordinary. Jude's back was so fully arched, his buttocks so spread by the angle of his legs, that I could see Tom's foreskin being pushed back, rippling against Jude's opening as the sphincter relaxed. They both exhaled, Tom's eyes closed, and I saw the top half of Tom's dick distend Jude's rectum and disappear. It was an amazing sight, seeing flesh actually moving inside a body. Jude sighed as he sank down on Tom's fat cock; when it was fully inside he groaned deeply and shifted, grinding himself into Tom's hairy crotch. It was shocking to see Tom's large dong so easily accommodated; but I remembered Tom telling me, weeks before we'd had sex, how much Jude enjoyed getting fucked, that he couldn't get enough. His rectum was clearly highly elastic.

I was about to find out just how elastic it was.

Tom's large hands held Jude's waist as the latter rode up and down, jamming himself onto the big cock. Tom's forearms were long and highly muscled, and darkly shadowed by hair. His ornate tribal tattoo glistened with his perspiration, and rippled and pulsed with the effort of the musculature beneath. I could smell them: musky, sweaty, maleness laced with traces of stale cock and ripe arse. Their odour mixed with that of the lube, and the leather sofa. They weren't making much noise; their rhythmic panting was punctuated with strong exhales and a groan from Jude now and then as Tom's cock strongly stroked his prostate. They paused to kiss, lewdly devouring each other's faces in a mass of wet lips, pink tongues and stubble-shadowed skin. Their hunger was exciting. Jude was writhing, tripping on the dick stuffed up him. Their heads were leant close, and I heard intimate murmurings. They looked over at me. Tom was grinning; Jude's slack, sweaty face looked urgent.

'Tim, come over here and stick your fat cock up my arse... I want to feel both of you in me.' His voice was tight and strained.

It took me a moment to register what he wanted. I'd never imagined such a thing. I'd seen porn videos where women had got dicks in their cunts and arseholes. The idea of Tom and I both cramming ourselves in Jude's bowels was gross; the thrill of its depravity ran through me. My head was spinning and I realised that I was holding my breath. My penis felt like a bone, leaking pre-cum, throbbing between my legs.

I walked to the couch and picked up the lube. The touch of my hand as I smeared the white gunk on my erection was like fire. We'd have had no chance had I not had one of the best hard-ons of my life. Jude was arching his back up towards me sharply. I stood with my legs outside of Tom's thighs and crouched slightly to bring the head of my dick towards the distended hole. I could feel the heat radiating from them, damp and randy. My cock rubbed Tom's as I lodged it against Jude's arse lips. I struggled for a while, rather ineffectually, defeated by the slipperiness of my cock and Jude's crack. Each time I pressed forward firmly, my dick would slide off or buckle against Jude's stuffed hole. I leaned forward, resting my chest against Jude's back. Tom looked up at me and we gazed at each other intently. I felt his love and affection for me, his appreciation of my manliness.

'Let's fuck him, Tim. Shove your dick up his slutty hole.'

'Oh yeah. Use me.' Jude's voice was eager, pleading.

I pushed again, holding my penis firm.

'Ah! Ah! Oh Jesus!' Jude threw his head back violently as the head of my cock pushed inside.

'Oh yeah! You got it!' Tom's voice was rich with lust and admiration.

We were both strongly identified with Jude; Tom had his hands round his boyfriend's face, encouraging him, reassuring him. I was stroking his back, helping him stay firmly in place, staked on our conjoined dicks. Jude's sphincter relaxed slightly against my cock. I pushed hard and felt his anus give, and then I was sliding inside, feeling slick movement against my cock, feeling the hardness of Tom's joint jammed against me. I'd never felt such tightness inside another body. I imagined Jude's sense of abandon, his need to submit to us, his lust for subjugation. I felt the responsibility of his desire, and wanted to give him what he needed. I felt a generosity and tenderness towards him, and a strong sense of intimacy with Tom; we were both working to satisfy Jude - it was our cocks he needed, our will, our authority as men. Our potency was an almost tangible force in the room. We started trying to co-ordinate are movements inside. It was tricky; Jude's sphincter felt elastic, and it was spasming hard around the gross girth of our cocks. It felt as though any long strokes would expel me from his arse. Our fucking was gentle but firm. It was my penis that provided most of the friction for us. Tom had less mobility of movement than me; he was concentrating on keeping his huge dong stuffed inside. My jabbing fucked Tom's dick as it fucked Jude's hole. Jude was grunting with animal-like abandon. He was clearly riding the outer edges of some deep fantasy, yielding to the intense submission. He kept tossing his head from side to side. He was radiating a massive amount of moist, sweaty heat.

As I continued my small, fucking motions, my pleasure started to build. I could still feel the rawness of my own rectum from the pounding I'd got from Tom earlier, and it heightened my pleasure. I was a man who liked to get fucked, fucking a man who was writhing on two fat cocks. My penis throbbed, Jude's arsehole slackened, and the mechanical difficulties of our position receded. I pushed down hard on Jude's back; his skin was slippery under my hand. He moved all the way down onto Tom, resting his head beside his boyfriend's. I shifted my hips and felt my penis slide inside another couple of inches. Jude's head reared up.

'Fuck!'

Tom grabbed Jude's head again and they started kissing, with wide open mouths, tongues squirming and probing. Their passion was one of the most arousing things I've ever seen. I heard Jude moaning into Tom's mouth

I was buried inside to the hilt. I felt them both passive beneath me. I was fucking Jude's arse, but it also felt like I was fucking Tom. I started making longer, more powerful pumping movements.

'Jesus! Fuck me baby! Stuff me with that cock.'

Jude's moans were becoming more incoherent. He was pleading, sobbing almost, as I fucked him harder. I felt Tom's knob moving against mine as he started humping from beneath, our shafts chafed against one another as they chafed the soft, slackening tightness of Jude's rectum. I looked down at my dick moving in and out; it was very red and thick. I could see Tom's bigger penis below. Jude's arselips were curling and uncurling around our shafts: the movement was grotesque, unnatural and thrilling. I jabbed harder, concentrating on the sensations I was getting. I could feel Jude's hole spasming.

'Oh god! Je - sus! Shit! I'm cumming. Oh god... fuck me. Fuck me. Please. God.'

Jude was manic, overwhelmed. He bucked back against me, almost pushing me out. I jammed my dick in him hard. His rectum was clenching fiercely on our knobs. His movements were frenzied as he tried to get some friction on his penis by rubbing it between their bellies.

'Oh baby, yes, go on. Baby, take it. Come on. There you go. Oh yeah.' Tom's hands were in his lover's hair as Jude came. I couldn't see his dick pumping semen onto Tom's chest, but I could smell his sperm thickly in the air, mingling with the other intimate, crude smells of our fucking.

Jude collapsed onto Tom's chest, resting his head on Tom's shoulder. With his arms round his lover, I felt Tom begin hard thrusts. I matched him, and our movements became synchronised. Our eyes were locked. We were fucking each other. Jude's groans were pained now that the vast intensity of his orgasm had passed.

'It's okay baby... nearly... there. I know. You're doing great.' Tom's words were soothing, but his fucking was savage. Jude grunted with the discomfort. It heightened our pleasure.

Tom's mouth gaped open, a silent cry. I gasped as the bottom fell out of my stomach. I felt Tom's penis jumping against mine as we spurted our seed into Jude's belly. We were turning him into a receptacle for our male fluids, a vessel through which we bonded, where our juices mingled. As my movements slowed I could feel the slick stickiness inside. We'd fulfilled Jude's deep desires, his primitive need to be used. But he'd fulfilled our need for savagery. I'd seen the look on Tom's face, as he'd seen mine, as we'd violently fucked Jude's rectum, relishing his moans of discomfort and pain. I knew that my pleasure lay, in part, in punishing Jude, in using my prick to abuse him. And I knew that he wanted that, as I had. My bowels were still leaking Tom's cum; the same cum that was coalescing with my own inside Jude.

I lay down on Jude's back, pressing my weight down on both of them. My penis was pulled upward, and the angle was too steep. It popped out of his hole. I could feel the cum oozing into his crack as my cock lodged there. I knew that there'd be blood on my penis. The smell of cum and shit was strong. Tom put his arms up round Jude, and rested his hands on my waist. His touch was firm, his hands broad. I put my arms on his, and we grasped each other, pulling our bodies together, each squeezing the other to Jude, who snuggled between us.