Touchdown

[This is my third story, a continuation of Todd and Tony . . . or the hot man whose name I've changed to protect his privacy and me some time ago and am calling "Tony" for the sake of this story. I hope you enjoy Touchdown 3. If you do, write me and tell me. And also, PLEASE make a donation to nifty.org if you are able to, in recognition of the site's convenience and entertainment value. –Al]

When we got outside, I offered, "I'll be glad to drive you and bring you back when . . . " and I stopped awkwardly. WHEN WHAT, DREESEN? WHEN WE'RE `DONE'? WHEN YOU'RE TOO SORE FOR ME TO FUCK ANYMORE? WHEN MY COCK IS FUCKED OUT AND CAN'T GET IT UP ANYMORE? GOD, DREESEN, YOU'RE LAME SOMETIME!

Tony seemed to be pondering. Maybe he was pondering my awkwardness. Maybe he was pondering that it would be better to have his own car so he could get the fuck away from the inarticulate jock whenever he wanted! Maybe . . .

"You know what? That would be great. Lower our carbon footprint by minimizing the car travel." If that's what it took to get him in my car, I'd take that.

I walked toward my car while he went to a keypad and closed his garage door. I stood by my car and enjoyed the sight of his broad shoulders, tapering in a perfect V down to his narrow waist and amazingly well-sculpted ass, which I knew then was as perfect on the inside as it was on the outside. His long, hairy, muscular legs were pretty awesome, too. His fur seemed to glisten in the sun, perhaps still some unevaporated sweat from our fucking. THAT sent a blast of flame through me. And when he turned and walked back toward me, smiling, the late afternoon sun catching his olive skin, something inside me twanged . . . loud.

He got to the car and I was still staring at him, hadn't even opened my car door yet. He stood against the passenger side and leaned across my low sports car. I matched him, and on my toes, our lips touched. Electricity! And my already stirring cock was close to hard within a second.

"For a jock who doesn't like to kiss, you sure give great lips!" he teased me, a broad, devilish grin on his face.

I'm sure I blushed. I'm sure I saw his grin register my blush almost imperceptibly. Most importantly I felt the warmth of his light-hearted tease and knew he meant it, knew, staring into his beautiful, dancing gold-brown eyes, that he felt the electricity, too.

"Another," he asked, more of a challenge than a question. "Or should we get to your place, where we don't have to stop there for fear of risking the SMPD arresting us for lewd conduct?" he finished, with that devilish grin promising that it would, in fact, be very lewd, very soon.

I leaned across again. "A quick `nother," I prompted him stupidly. But his lips hit mine as the last syllables were being uttered, and this wasn't nearly as short as the last one . . . or as chaste. His tongue was insistent against my lips, and I couldn't stop myself from opening for him. And there we were, two grown men standing over a low convertible, sucking face and groping each other clumsily for the separation of our bodies.

I pulled away and took in some breath, and I heard Tony doing the same. "I feel like I just learned some new plays and need to practice them to get them right," I joked, opening my door.

Tony opened his door and was saying, "Todd, if that's you before practice, I'll be totally GONE on you when you're at your playing level!" It was said with humor, but there was also more to it.

GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF HIS ASS, DREESEN. THERE WASN'T ANYTHING MORE TO IT THAN A JOKE, MATCHING YOURS, my annoying inner coach was taunting. But I wasn't so sure.

The car was hot and musty from being in the sun, even though it was cool out, the usual for the California beach area. It also REEKED of my sweat from when we left the gym without showering. I was about to apologize when Tony took an exaggerated deep breath with a big smile on his face and exhaled slowly. "GOD, your scent, Todd. If we bottled that, we could sell it to every gay man who buys a bottle of lube to jackoff!"

I flushed from the compliment. To me it was just part of life – sweat – and not the better part of it, unless it was the sweat of a hot man, naked with me. I leaned over and gave Tony's neck a good long whiff then a long swipe with my tongue. "I like your scent better, and your taste most of all!"

"Wow," Tony mocked. "Who knew Todd Dreesen was a big ol' romantic?"

We both laughed at that, and I hit the starter button, which resulted in a rancid blast of my sweat stink from the now-blowing air conditioner vents. "Mmmmm more Todd to offset the sex-stench of the two of us," Tony cooed.

I looked at him to see if he was serious, and when I did, he busted into laughter. "Pretty bad, huh?" I needlessly asked.

Tony put his fingers up, clipping off his nose. "You and me, that's hot. You, freshly stinking, that's maybe even hotter, I'm not even sure. But the fermented in-the-vents regurgitated you-sweat, well, I'd only jack off to that if it was all I had and it had been a VERY long time," he laughed.

I hit the button for the convertible top to retract, the windows receding at the same time. It wasn't that cool, and it wasn't that far. As the sun bathed us, the air became better almost instantly, and we both inhaled deeply of the slightly-salty fresh air. Tony had turned his head off at a forty-five degree angle, slightly upward, so the sun was direct on him. He was beautiful, there was no question, like a movie star glowing with the sun-God's favor.

"I'm trying to pretend like I get into hot jocks' expensive sports cars every day, you understand?" he explained, not moving from his sun-favoring position. "Usually, if they even HAVE a car, well, even that isn't usual, so I'll stop there."

I'd stopped the air conditioner when the top went down, so it was just distant traffic noise from Montana a few blocks away. His deep voice was soft, and he'd trailed off at the end. "What's not usual, Tony?" I asked. "You with another man in his car or that the other man has a car?" I asked, finding that I was genuinely interested, not just over-analyzing.

Tony turned to me slowly, with a nice smile. "I'm not a monk, Todd," he said quietly. "But I'm also usually a flirt, not a slut," he added, his eyes set on mine, almost challenging.

I reached over and rubbed his inviting thigh, enjoying his fur and the warm tautness of his skin stretched over corded muscle. "I'm not only grateful, then, but I'm honored, Tony," I told him, meaning every word more than I could grasp at the moment.

We were kissing again, for who knows how long, other than we were all twisted in the seats and arms everywhere and huffing for breath when a woman's voice yelled as it passed, "You go, Tony – nice catch!" and we began to laugh. A family on bikes, the mother fielding the taunt – though I admit I enjoyed the compliment – who obviously seemed to be neighbors because they knew him.

"Take me to your house before that police car shows up, Todd," he said, turning his face back to the sun.

It really was an embarrassingly short drive up the hill and over four blocks. When we got to my overly-pretentious (yes, that's intended emphasis, not redundancy!) gates, which I'd always hated but had been there when I bought the place, waiting on the large oval turnaround while they opened, Tony teased me. "Wow. Hope you'll let me out when I'm ready to stop being your sex slave!"

"Nya nya nya," I mugged, a la the prototypical bad guy. And then I threw in another inane bomb. "We'll just see, my pretty," and I cackled in my best, which was piss-poor, imitation of the amazing Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch of the West.

Tony perked his face. "You really think I'm pretty?" he asked, batting his beautiful dark, thick eyelashes and tilting his face from side to side with a stupid grin.

YES, I thought to myself, and I'd apparently lost my ability to speak. When Tony finally noticed and gave me a long look, he blushed a little. But he recovered quickly.

"You like me! You really like me!!!" he mugged.

"Yeah, I really do," I was horrified to hear myself saying it very, VERY seriously out loud.

Tony's face registered the surprise. "Wow," he said, in a tone matching mine.

"Is that a good `wow', Tony?" I asked.

In response, he leaned over and kissed my neck softly and put his head on my shoulder. "Take me, Todd. I'm all yours," he murmured.

I'd put the car in gear again and left my hand on the shift knob, wishing I had the courage to put it on Tony's warm, sinewy thigh again. It would have been awkward anyway, shifting as we wound up my drive, having to take my hand away and put it back again. But as we went through the gates, Tony solved the problem. I put his right hand over mine very gently and left it there. "Okay?" he asked.

"Very," I said.

WHOA, FUCK, THIS IS GOING WAY OVER THE LINE, DREESEN, the coach in my head chided. But I'd become a Hall-of-Famer the season I defied my coach the most often . . . and I'd been lucky enough that season to have been right every time. The coach had reminded me of that every game at least once with an unspoken warning about what would happen if I was wrong. Well, unspoken after the first time he came unglued and threatened to sideline me for an entire game if I defied him and was wrong. I figured he was being dramatic and wouldn't risk his tar being out for play and causing a loss, but fortunately I never had to test it.

When we rounded the turn and came out of the trees, Tony sat up and gawked with a long, "Mannnnnnnnnnnnnn!"

"Please don't. It's embarrassing enough that I bought this monstrosity, but it was for tax purposes. Believe me I'd much prefer to live in something far more . . . normal," I trailed off, hoping he didn't get that I'd thought of about four words before that for his small bungalow, but I ditched them all for worry of hurting his feelings: small, humble, tiny, mundane. SHIT, I thought. Why didn't I just choose cozy, manageable, less obtrusive or something like that.

"Would you mind terribly if I just let myself enjoy this dream a while longer?" he asked, his face wide-eyed. "The HOT quarterback returning my interest was hot enough. The fuck was infuckingcredible. The hot quarterback turning out to be a sweet guy was over the top. The kisses over a car that costs more than my house, beyond comprehension. And now . . . shit I've never been to a house this big, much less one that has a pool in the front yard. And the view of the ocean . . . OH MY GOD, that's Catalina way down there isn't it?"

He was gushing like a kid, and I have to admit I was blushing like a schoolboy whose crush just said he liked him. I had no words – at least I wasn't risking opening my own mouth and blathering like a teenager – but fortunately we were at the front steps. I'd never parked there since I closed escrow on the place, but dammit I wanted Tony to have the full treatment, and that included the ridiculous forty-something-foot-ceilinged ballroom that the architect had thought up for an entry gallery.

I fished my gym bag out from behind my seat and headed around. Tony had gotten out but had wandered in front of the car and was looking out at the ocean not far in the distance, but the beautiful, crisp day gave him a view that but for the curvature of the earth, he'd have seen Hawaii. He was stunning, standing attentively, handsome profile gleaming in the almost horizontal rays from the sun, far off over the water. Tall, lean muscled, dark and furry, and that ass . . . my cock stirred again when I got to that ass of his!

MAN TRAP, THAT'S WHAT THAT IS, coach warned. HAPPILY CAPTIVE, I retorted in my head with a chuckle and gave Tony's ass a grope as I passed and headed up the wide brick steps to the door that I could have driven my car through.

I fumbled my key out of my wallet pocket where I kept it, not ever having intended for situations like this, but for an inadvertently locked door to the mud room from the garage, which, after it happened twice by well-intentioned cleaning people who apparently couldn't read my ever-larger cautionary notes, had spawned the practice of carrying it to begin with. A hassle at the TSA, because the key was large enough to tip the scanner over the tolerance, so I always had to take it out of my pocket. But handy now. The latch turned easily to my surprise, and I pushed the huge, thick, well-hung door (wait, where was my mind?!), and it easily swung wide inward.

My dog, an incredible, oversized (translation: not show quality) Airedale Terrier, Hamish, was used to me coming in from the garage, and he generally slept in the mud room or hall outside it, waiting for me to come home. He'd heard the front door, but apparently had slept through my car's approach, because as soon as the latch clicked, he'd started raising a racket, and I heard his toenails and the most endearing whiny barking-slash-howling as he galloped through the house toward me. He rounded the far end of the hall, some forty feet away, at full speed and skidded on the terrazzo, which I'd always thought was beautiful, but incongruous with the Tudor styling of the house. Hamish was in mid-skid but finally got purchase and headed toward me at a gallop.

I loved my dog, truly my very best friend, and I'd momentarily forgotten about Tony, who'd stepped up behind me. "He's magnificent, Todd. I'm assuming that bark is happy, not indicating that he thinks I'm dinner?"

"He's a lover," I said, as Hamish finally arrived. He slowed to a stop by me, his tail out of control, causing his entire curly-haired rear end to be wagging. After he nuzzled my leg and my petting, rubbing hand, for a few seconds to let me know I'm number one – he knew where his bread was buttered – he gave Tony the same treatment. He was indeed a lover, but he was never one to easily make new friends. But Tony got the full treatment, nuzzling long and hard against him, working the pets and attention like I'd been forgotten. "And he obviously likes you, Tony. Wow!"

At that point Tony got to his knees and was hugging Hamish back. It was a regular love-fest, and I was feeling a bit left out. "You're a beauty, Hamish, just like your daddy," Tony was cooing to him as he rubbed his head against Hamish's body, like Hamish was rubbing his head against Tony's. I called those Hamish-hugs . . . and Hamish was indeed a huggy boy.

"Ohmygod, Todd, I love your dog!" Tony exclaimed like a kid. "Yes I do. I certainly do," he went back to his Hamish-tone. "I love this big boy!"

Love me, love my dog went through my head. WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?! coach chided in my head. SHUDDUP, I thought back, enjoying every minute of it.

"Can Hamish go out the front?" Tony asked up in my direction.

"Only with us, er, I mean with me. Never alone. I wouldn't risk the gate being open or it opening while he was out and him wandering out onto San Vicente." I shuddered just thinking about it. Probably my only fear, now that I'd gotten over my playing career being terminal.

Tony took Hamish's big head in his hands and rubbed his ears, orgasmic to Hamish, as his awkward boner attested, though Tony couldn't see it from his angle. "Hamish has to go out, I'm sure, after being inside for a wong, wong time," he Hamish-spoke to him. "Yes he does! Yes he does! But I have to use the restroom, so daddy's probably going to let you out back after he shows me where it is. Is that okay big boy? You wanna go outside?"

Hamish was having none of any thoughts of this stopping. Usually "out" made him dance with glee, but at this moment, Tony was his entire world. I was glad Hamish had been groomed the day before – I loved Tony's smell, and I was fine with Hamish, even at his doggiest, but I didn't want Tony to smell that way. Hmmmmm . . . doggy style . . . HOLD THAT THOUGHT, DREESEN.

"Okay, okay, break it up, boys! Hamish!" I barked, and Hamish came to attention and looked at me. "Outside, NOW!" I said, and he gave one last look at Tony, then back at me, but I pointed toward the back of the house, and he gave Tony a quick nuzzle and disengaged and walked slowly away, looking back over his shoulder as he did.

"I see you like your men obedient!" Tony smirked at me as he was getting to his feet. "I can do that!" he added, full of filthy intent, which sent a bolt of lightning from my balls to my again-hardening cock. "But first, I really could use the restroom, Todd."

Hamish was at the end of the hall and looked relieved to see us moving in his direction, confirming he wasn't being penalized, as evidenced by his quieted tail wagging again, and his pace picking up as he went to the passageway. I stopped by a passageway off to the left before the end of the hall. "The second door on the right," I said, pointing down the hall. "You'll know if you get the wrong door – there are no toilets behind the other ones!" I joked. "I'll let Hamish out and come back and wait for you so you don't have to find your own way. And by the way, Tony," and he stopped and looked back at me. "In my house, they're bathrooms, toilets, cans, anything but restrooms. This is my HOUSE, a MAN's house, not a hotel!" I said it with mirth, but I meant it. I didn't want Tony to feel like this was anything other than a guy's house. A guy who was about to fuck his brains out again!

"Got it!" he replied crisply and went on his way, looking at the walls, the art, the furniture as he did. Hamish gently tapped his toenails on the tile to remind me of my next task. Which was good, because I could look at Tony forever.

FOREVER?! WHAT THE—

CAN IT! I'M ENJOYING MYSELF!

WHAT THE FUCK EVER, coach muttered in my head.

I let Hamish out, and he was OFF, chasing squirrels and birds and would, at some point, abruptly stop and lift his leg or do whatever he had to do, then would resume his chases. I left the French doors open to the cool air, and I realized I'd left the front door gaping as well, when I felt the breeze flowing all the way through the house.

I enjoyed my dog's exuberance on any given day, but today I felt a special thrill, as his matched what I was feeling. I turned and walked through the empty rooms of my house, my step springy with anticipation. When I got to the front gallery, indeed the door was wide open, and the breeze was gentle, but head-on.

I'd rounded the corner just in time to hear the door open down the side hall, and it dawned on me that I'd missed the opportunity to hear Tony piss. DAMMIT! I imagined his piss stream to be heavy and long and manly, just like him, and my cock stirred again, rather decisively this time, based on Tony's eyes going straight to my crotch when he turned into the gallery. "Someone's ready," he observed with a leer and a long swipe of his tongue between his lips.

That set me aflame. I crossed toward him, and he toward me, and we were instantly locked in a rough, deep kiss, hands everywhere, grinding together. It took no time for evidence of his excitement to match mine. "GODDAMN, Tony," I exclaimed, breaking away at length. "You make me lose all control."

"Uh, I'm sorry?" he ventured through an evil grin.

"Do you want me to show you around? More fucking? Are you hungry? Do you want to relax? Swim? Jacuzzi? Throw the bone with Hamish?" I was babbling, but I was happy, standing there with my cock jutting out, tenting my workout shorts, which I'd put on commando for sake of expedience when we'd left Tony's. I wondered if I'd left my jock strap there.

"Switch one and two, and throw YOUR bone into one, and we've got a deal," he answered cheekily.

It took me a moment to process it, but then I grinned wide. "Sexy AND clever!" I pronounced.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he said, and that one took a little longer for me to process, until his grin made me realize he was clever because he'd gotten me to bring him home.

My eyes narrowed, and I bet my nostrils flared, as my balls sent waves of heat and need through me. Tony looked uncertain for a moment at my change of face, which was perfect for me to dive low, get him around his thighs and bring him up over my shoulder in a fireman's carry before he could finish "WHAT THE—"

"You said you're mine, remember?" I growled as I headed to the center back of the gallery and the main stairs, which I could count the number of times I'd used on the fingers of one hand.

"I did, and I stand by my statement!" he affirmed, laughing over my shoulder and groping my ass. "Nice ass on you, by the way. Mmmmmmmmm!"

"Don't you be getting any ideas, there. Remember who's carrying whom to whose cave here to have whose filthy way with whom!"

Tony laughed. "I might have to think about that one when my head is above my heart again, and my brain is working better."

"I can feel your other brain in my shoulder, and it feels to me like you're thinking just FINE," I laughed, as I bounded up the stairs with him like I was carrying my gym bag. For a big, muscular guy, he was well-balanced and . . . well . . . enjoyable to carry!

We finally got to my bedroom's sitting room after the long walk from the main stairs and back around the gallery to the west end of the second floor. As we passed through the way-too-big sitting room and into my bedroom, Tony said, "Todd, not for nothing, but your house is as big as a fucking hotel," with a chuckle.

"Todd, not for nothing, but this weekend, it's going to BE a FUCKING place, whatever it is!" I retorted lamely, but I was rewarded with a resonant laugh from him anyway.

I kicked the bedroom door closed behind me when we'd got in, a signal for Hamish that this was "dad time". I had no worries that he'd go out the front door when he came back in. He would never cross the threshold without me saying it was okay to do so. Hamish was a marvelously well-trained, obedient boy.

DOGGY STYLE.

YES!

When we got across my playing-field-sized bedroom to my big bed, I gently let Tony roll off my shoulder and immediately went to work pulling off his shorts. "FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!" I exclaimed.

"You don't mind, I take it?" he said, his eyes smoldering up at me.

He had put on my sweaty jock strap under his running shorts. I hadn't noticed in the rush to get out of there so we could get here and to . . . THIS. I was speechless, the activity in my nuts taking my entire consciousness.

"Leave it on me, Todd. I want to be fucked in your jock strap."

That snapped me out of it. I ripped more than pulled his shorts off and wrenched his shoes off, leaving his socks. "On all fours!" I ordered, ripping my top and shorts off and toeing my shoes across the room as he scrambled onto his hands and knees and waived his still-slicked ass in my face.

I didn't give a shit about lube taste; I went IN, face-first. I had lunged onto the bed behind him, grabbed his thighs firmly with my hands and pulled him into my face and had my tongue in him before he could complete a single long cry of pleasure. I ate, chewed, tongue-fucked and devoured his hole, as he moaned, gasped and cried out intermittently as I had my way with his already-sore, swollen hole.

"OH GOD, Todd, I want you IN ME!" he finally cried after who knows how long I'd been eating him. I was so close to cumming from the enjoyment of his ass that I worried if I'd blow the second I entered him.

"Moment," I abbreviated, disengaging and lunging to the other side of the bed next to him, grabbing at my side drawer for condoms and lube.

Tony took advantage of my cock being so close and went down on me, taking me in one long gulp like a pro. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I cried, hoping against hope that his hot, wet, talented mouth didn't ignite my fuse. "I'm too turned on, Tony," I yelled, rummaging in my drawer and finally coming up with a foil packet strip to go with the lube I'd grabbed at first.

"MMMMMGGGMMMOOOOOODDDMMMMMM," he gulped around my cock, not stopping for a minute.

I fucking loved it, but I really wanted to fuck him, and if he made me cum now, at forty-something years old, it might be all over. I got myself away from him, which got me a moan and a pout, then a leer as he replanted his hands and waved his ass in invitation.

I was behind him, tearing the foil packet and uncapping the lube in an instant. "No more lube – I'm fine still," he said.

"You sure, Tony?"

"Jesus, Todd, would you fucking MOUNT ME goddammit?!" he growled and waved his ass at me.

I did. ROUGHLY, causing him to cry out and giving me a moment's pause when he did. "Now FUCK ME you dirty fucker!" he ordered, pushing back on me until my balls smacked his.

I started pounding him immediately, good player that I am, following all the coach's plays . . . when they're what I want to do, as I very much did, then. I pounded that hole, garnering a loud, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK YES!" from him every time my groin collided with his crack.

I had him firmly by the waist, my fingers looped through my jock strap, which was still on him, pounding him hard and fast because I didn't know how long I could last but wanted to get in as many strokes as I could before I lost it. Todd wasn't helping me hold back because he was grinding his hips around into me and meeting my thrusts, spewing filthy talk, which was making my head spin.

"Oh FUCK that huge fuckmeat of yours FILLS me so GOOOOOOOOOOD!"

"Yeah, you fucking love it, don't you?" I growled

"Go ahead, you dirty fucker," he taunted breathily. "Call me what you were thinking!" he said, as if reading my mind and my abrupt stop before.

"You dirty cockwhore, you fucking love taking it, don't you, BITCH?" I spat, surprising myself that it was, in fact, exactly what I was thinking and actually being able to say it.

"FUCK YES!" he cried. "I'm YOUR fucking cockwhore bitch! NOW FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!" he shouted, slamming back onto me even harder.

I was so fucking close, but somehow I rode the edge until I finally felt his assmuscles begin to spasm around me and felt his body tense and knew he was cumming. Of course, the "OHJESUSOHFUCKOHMYFUCKINGGODYOUREMAKINGMECUMWITHOUTTOUCHINGMYCOCK!" was a good clue, too.

I wrenched his body up, so we were both up straight on our knees, and I drove into him as hard as I could as I yanked his jaw around and we awkwardly sucked each other's faces and I let go and begin pumping my seed into the condom inside him. I was grunting like a man passing a kidney stone with every last thrust, muffled into his face as our tongues and teeth dueled. We kissed on through it, and then we were still kissing in that awkward position, his neck twisted around, my chin battling his shoulder, but my hands on his sweaty, heaving torso felt like they were right where they should be, and my torso sweat-slick torso against his sweaty back seemed to be molded together to fit.

When we finally broke the kiss, Tony dropped his chin, and I kissed the back of his neck, savoring the smell of him. He "Mmmmmmmmmm"ed when I did it, and he moved his head back into me and nuzzled me with the back of his head against my face. When I felt his sweaty scalp rubbing against me and inhaled him again, I wrapped my arms around him tighter. Tony hugged my arms.

"Hey," I finally spoke, in a slow voice. "How `bout we get in a more comfortable position?" I suggested.

"I don't know about you, but I'm loving the position we're in now," Tony countered, wagging his ass just enough to remind me that I was still inside him, barely.

"I need to take care of that," I said matter-of-factly.

"Mmmmm hmmmm," he moaned by way of response.

I kissed him once more on the back of his neck, and I was rewarded with another long moan, which warmed my still-heated core to almost over-heated. I was definitely loving this way too much. Strangely, though, coach hadn't butted in again . . . yet.

With great reluctance I slowly took my left hand away from his sexy abs and lats and put it between us to hold the base of the condom on my cock as I slowly pulled out of Tony. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" he exclaimed.

"Sore?" I asked, again kissing the back of his neck.

"Very," he replied quickly, "But it's an awesome kind of sore, Todd."

I didn't know exactly what to think of that. I knew – or thought I did – that he wasn't a pain pig, but were there shades and levels to a bottom's desire for pain? I knew for certain that the infrequent occasions I bottomed, pain during was fine and quickly transcended to pleasure, but pain afterward, beyond simple discomfort of the reminder type was NOT fine, not fine at all, at all, as my Irish grandmother used to say.

"I need that shower," Tony said, turning as I got on my feet. "Together?" he asked, grinning.

"Thought you'd never ask!" I answered, with a wink and gesture with my rather full condom in my hand.

Tony's hopeful smile went to a broad grin, and he bounded off the bed and followed me toward my bathroom. More comfortable position one, coming – cumming? – right up!

I realized, making an abrupt turn when I did and bumping right into Tony, hot on my tail – and the sparks could have ignited the house if they'd been outside instead of inside, that's how hot we are together – that I'd forgotten something important. Then again, the sparks . . . I grabbed Tony's ass as we danced sideways so I could get past him. "Gimme a sec," I said, heading across the room.

As I expected, when I threw open the door to my bedroom Hamish was sprawled across the wide doorway. No chance of me getting past him! He JUMPED UP, not from surprise, but with his usual exuberance, and he was intent on showing me just how much doggy best friend love I'd missed out on. Fortunately my dog was far too well-behaved (because with Hamish, it was clearly HIS choice, not my training, that ruled!) to shove his nose into my cummy, sweaty nuts or cock . . . but he clearly enjoyed a few whiffs during the brief Hamish-hugs moment.

I gave him enough to show my contrition for having shut him out while Tony and I – there goes that spark again as I looked at him across the room, standing there, looking hot as FUCK, tall, dark, handsome, NAKED and fresh in my memory of having been in contact, fucking him silly.

Hamish picked up on Tony when I did, as he was wont to do when I had significant thoughts, and he BOUNDED over to Tony at the same time Tony called, "HEY BUDDY!". Hamish was ALL OVER Tony, and not being nearly so well-behaved as he chooses to be with me. "Awwwww, poor Hamish, left outside the door while daddy had all the fun . . . " he was cooing to Hamish as Hamish was up on his back legs, his paws on Tony's furry slab pecs, licking his chin and face . . . to Tony's obvious delight. I was jealous . . . of Hamish!

"Hamish," I called, low and cautionary, and he immediately got to all four on the floor, but made it clear with a plaintiff look to Tony and a pointed look at me over his shoulder that I was absolutely no fun.

"GOD, he's AWESOME, Todd!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his head against Hamish's, a Hamish-hug, exactly, and Hamish was hugging him back just as enthusiastically, his stubby tail like a propeller. My heart melted.

"Okay, okay, break it up, you two," I called, heading their way. Another pointedly disapproving look from Hamish back in my direction. My voice was a little husky – I really was choked up seeing how Hamish took to Tony – so I feigned a cough as if clearing my throat. Of course it might have been also the sight of Tony's rippling muscles under that pelt of dark fur, and his big cock and balls hanging and swinging as he crouched with Hamish. My mind added the recent memory of his beautifully perfect ass, my cock being forced into it, and by the time I got there I was hard . . . again.

"Looks like I need to give another DOG some attention," Tony smirked up at me, and then he kissed not my waving cock but my heavy ballsac. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!

As I'd caught my breath, Tony bounded to his feet, and Hamish took the hint and went to check out Tony's strewn cloths. Tony had other ideas, clenching one hand behind my neck and the other on my raging cock and pulling me into him. I could feel he was half-hard, too, as he kissed me fiercely.

I was reeling, about to lose my balance – swooning, if I'd been a Southern belle! – when he broke the kiss but left his lips close enough to brush mine. "Thanks, Todd," he murmured, his big hand still firmly on and barely around my cock.

I moved my head enough to safely look down, obviously surveying his grip on me. "You're thanking me?" I chucked.

Tony's eyes were sincere as he responded. "Yes, thanks for the best afternoon I've had in a LONG time."

I hugged him tight and whispered in his ear. "If I'm calculating right, before this weekend is over, we'll have scored three awesome afternoons, Ton." I surprised myself that I'd cut off his name. "Tony, I meant."

Tony, holding me just as tight, whispered back, "Call me `Ton' – it went straight to my aching ass, like a salve and a reminder of my need for MORE, both at the same time." FUCK that was HOT! Even softer, he added, with a bit of shyness at the end, "My calculation is that we have two full days in between, that is if you'll still have me".

It was tender and cute, but my cock was throbbing in his hand, and his was against my groin, so no façade possible. I growled in his ear, "Oh, Ton, you have NO IDEA the MANY ways I intend to have you!" and swatted his hard buttcheek . . . HARD.

Tony yelped, squeezed my cock and bit my neck, which I admit almost made me cum right there in his hand.

"SHOWER! NOW!" I ordered, pulling away enough to walk, but not letting go of my hold on this amazing stud and pulling him into the bathroom with me.

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