Three

By Peterbilt / Devon Campbell

Published on Dec 20, 2007

Bisexual

This story contains situations and scenes of graphic sex between consenting adult males. All legal disclaimers apply. If this topic offends you, do not read any further; and ask yourself why you are at this site.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, although it may be loosely based on real events and people.

If you are under the age of 18 (21 in some areas) and too young to be reading such material or if you are in a locale or country where it is not legal to read such material then please leave immediately and come back when it is legal for you to do so. We'll be glad to have you back.

If you meet the criteria then read on, enjoy, and kindly let me know what you think. On the sites that provide for you to rate the stories or leave comments, I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome. Contact me at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com

Three

(Revised)

The room was deathly quiet as Jim Conner faced his wife across the table. She sat in her robe, staring down into her cup of coffee that she held with both hands. "Why?" he asked quietly. When she didn't answer right away he hit the table with his open palm. "WHY dammit!" he yelled. "I don't deserve to come home to see some guy coming out of our bedroom. Not after eighteen years of marriage!"

"There's nothing I can say that's going to help," she said.

"There's a reason. You can say that much," he said. "Just tell me the reason." His voice quivered and he could feel the wet in his eyes.

"God knows, I never intended for it to happen, Jim," she said.

"Wasn't I enough for you?" he asked. "I thought we've always had a great sex life. Where did you meet him? How old is he? How long has it been going on?"

"Almost three months," she replied. "He's twenty-three and I met him at work."

"Shit, I'm old enough to be his father," Jim said sarcastically.

"He's a truck driver," Linda went on. "He was unloading his truck when I went out on the dock to get Mr. Sanders."

"Just like that! You walk out on the dock and decide you want to take this young truck driver to bed?" he asked incredulously.

"It wasn't like that," she said defensively. "We were only friendly at first. Then he began to get friendlier and....then you were gone on a trip out of town and he jokingly asked me if I wanted to see his etchings. He meant show me the inside of his truck. It's a sleeper."

"Geezusss, Linda, you climbed up in the guy's truck right there on the docks?"

"No. No, it was the next day. I...I met him at a truck stop."

"For something you didn't intend to happen, you really went out of your way," Jim said. She hung her head, but he could sense no shame. Only guilt that she had been caught. "This is my ego talking, but what's he got that I haven't got?" he asked. "What can he give you that I wasn't giving you? I thought I was pretty good in bed. Is he that much better?"

"He makes me very happy," she replied. "I'm in love with him, Jim."

Her last words rang out and hung over the table like a death knell. He was stunned speechless. The wet in his eyes formed into a tear that ran down his cheek. "Does he love you?" he asked, barely able to get the words out.

"He says he does."

"Does he love you?" he asked again.

"Yes."

He looked down at his hands clasped on the table. "Not as much as I love you," he said. "Stop seeing him. Whatever's missing between us, I'll find it. Whatever it is that I'm doing wrong, I'll fix it. Just stop seeing him and we'll forget this ever happened."

"You know we can't do that, she said. "I can't even ask you to forgive me."

"You don't have to. I love you enough to do that without being asked." When she didn't respond he asked her, "Do you love me?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"How? How can you? And if you do, how can you go running to another man?"

"How can you love me after what I've done?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she went on. "I love you both, Jim. I wish I didn't. It would make it so much easier."

"I don't think that's possible, loving two men at the same time--not the same. Somebody's bound to get the short end of the stick."

"I'm guilty of that, leaving you with the short end of the stick," she said.

"One of us is leaving, then, is that what you're saying?" Jim asked.

"I have to. I can't stay here with you feeling the way you do. "

"I told you, I love you. You can't live with that?"

"We can't go on as if nothing's happened," she said.

He let out a long sigh. "I don't want a divorce. You said you love us both, yet you're willing to leave me. If you love me, don't leave. If you love him, then bring him into your life. I can live with that for awhile, till maybe you make up your mind....make a choice, maybe get him out of your system."

She hunched over in sobs. "Please, Jim, don't do this. Be mad, but don't be kind. I don't deserve that."

"And I don't deserve to have you leave," he said. "Just give it a chance. Give me a chance, that's all I'm asking. I won't interfere. I won't grill you about where you go or what you do. Just come home to me....at least part of the time."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You are either crazy or you're a candidate for sainthood."

"Selfish," he said. "I'm doing this for me, first--for us, second." She laid her head back with a loud sigh. "Will you stay? We can work something out, about how and when you see him."

"All right," she said finally. "As long as you promise that you'll tell me when you no longer want me around. I don't want you to pretend you love me. I couldn't take that."

He got up and walked around the table as Linda was picking up her cup. He put it back down and wrapped his arms around her. "I could never pretend to love you," he said.

True to his word, Jim never questioned his wife about where she was going, not even on the nights when she wasn't beside him in his bed. She told him in advance when she wouldn't home from work. Jim could see that the guy was making her happy. Linda was like she was then they were first married and he tried to remember what he had done then that he wasn't doing now. It ate at him like a voracious cancer and he wondered what the young trucker did to make her so happy. It ate at him more when he was making love to her, wondering what he might be doing right or wrong that would make her leave or stay; how he stacked up against the younger stud. He refused her suggestions that he go out as well, see other women.

"It would make me feel better," she told him.

"You love two men. I don't love two women," he said.

Then one night she hit him between the eyes again. "I have to leave, Jim," she said. "I can't even imagine what I'm putting you through when I go out. It eats at me something terrible."

"I'm coping," he said. "I've always been a patient man."

"Michael is getting kicked out of his apartment," she said. "They're turning the building into a condo. It would cost him twice the amount of his rent to stay. It's a good time for me to move out as well."

"Get a place together, is that what you're telling me?"

"It would make things simpler, don't you think?" she said.

"It would be the first step to loosing you," Jim said. "He can live here."

She stood gaping at him in disbelief. "My God! You would do that?"

"How would it be so different than what we're doing?"

"Oh, Jim...I don't know..."

"Please....just give it a try," he said.

"I would have to see what Michael thinks," she said.

"If you want me to talk to him, I will," Jim said.

"No, I need to be the one to talk to him," she said. "But you two will have to meet."

"Obviously."

"We, uh....we need to talk about....well, the arrangements," she said.

"Sleeping arrangements, you mean," he said.

"Yes."

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Jim said. "I can take my turn sleeping in the guest room. It has to be understood that I'll expect Michael to take his turn as well. He might not like that, knowing he's the cock of the walk, so to speak."

"I'll see that he does," she said. "I can't imagine it," she said, shaking her head. "I'm trying to picture it, but I can't imagine any man doing this."

"Promise to do me one favor," he said. "If you ever start thinking me less of a man for doing it, tell me. I'll move out."

"Oh, no, not less of a man," she said.

It bothered Jim that Michael agreed to the arrangement without hesitation. He wasn't sure what that said about the man, but on the other hand, what did it say about him, who suggested it? Linda insisted that the two men meet first, away from the house. Jim insisted that it be just the two of them, without Linda. She arranged for them to meet in a bar that she and Michael frequented. Jim knew the bar; Howard's Place. He asked Linda to be out of the house the night he was to meet the younger man. He didn't want her to see how nervous he was, and he wasn't sure how he would act when he returned home. He dressed in Dockers, hiking boots and a yellow knit T-shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror, satisfied that he looked damned good, but good enough to be taking Linda out, not meeting her lover in a bar. He changed into nicely-worn jeans and the same yellow shirt. He liked the way the shirt hugged his muscular arms and his chest. He felt like a boy going on his first date as he drove across town to Howard's Place. He drove around the block twice before he had the courage to park and get out.

The short distance from the parking lot, he willed himself out of the jitters. This was a kid, really, that he was meeting--young enough to be his son. Nothing else needed to be said about Howard's except that it was a typical neighborhood bar; a long bar down one side with high back bar with ornate mirrors, and tables and chairs along the other side and in the back. As he walked along the bar he realized that he didn't know what this Michael looked like.

"Jim?" He stopped at the sound of his name behind him, from someone he walked past at the bar. He glanced back to see a young man turned around on his stool, leaning out from the bar. Jim didn't know the guy but it had to be Michael. His heart sort of thudded at the sight of him. Geezuss...no wonder!

"Yeah," he said, turning around.

"I'm Michael," the man said with a nervous smile, putting out his hand.

A mass of bewilderment came over him. The guy was so friendly and casual. He was his wife's lover and in that moment, Jim understood why Linda was attracted to him. Jim was there to meet him, and now that they were face-to-face he didn't know what to say. Michael did.

"Well, I guess I can't expect you to say you're glad to meet me," he said.

"I was going back to a table," Jim said.

"Yeah. Right. I'll get us a beer," Michael said.

"Sam Adams," Jim said. He found a table in the back where there was less light than shone in the front windows. He didn't particularly want to be seen with this guy after the two of them had no doubt been seen there together. He could understand, though, how Linda could go for him in a big way, except that she was married. He was tall, black hair and snappy dark eyes with a dark tan that showed off his even white teeth. He was dressed more casually than Jim. He had on jeans and a white T-shirt, both of which hugged his well-muscled body like every guy should look. The sleeves hugged his big arms that bulged when they shook hands. His pecs stood out against the thin white material like two steaks; even his nipples which looked like two big pencil erasers, poked at the material. The shirt fit more loosely down from his chest, draped over his flat stomach. His thighs bulged inside the worn denim of his jeans and Jim couldn't help noticing the impressive bulge in front. He had a butt that women drool over; round and tight-looking muscles that sort of churned and flexed when he walked. He walked with a confident swagger reserved for men of his stature.

Jim waited nervously for Michael to get their beers and come back to the table. At least Linda had good taste, he thought. He was hoping so, but he hadn't imagined that he would look like this. He tried not to feel insignificant or inferior. But he was forty years old and this guy was a twenty-three-year-old stud. He wasn't at all sure how he would stand up to him.

Michael came with two beers and sat down. "I've got a standing order in for more beer, so you give the word when you've had enough," he said.

Jim nodded and tipped the bottle to take a much-needed drink. Michael, he noticed, drank his more casually.

"I couldn't believe it when Linda told me you wanted to meet me," Michael said.

"I can't believe I'm here," Jim said.

Both men stared down at the table. Michael was moving his beer bottle around in ever-widening circles. Jim was glad to see it; it meant he was nervous, too.

"Well.....since we are here..." Michael didn't finish it and it made Jim feel more like he was on an even playing field. "I gotta hand it to you, I admire your guts, coming to meet me face to face like this," Michael said. "And without a gun," he added jokingly.

Jim didn't laugh and Michael's chuckle died in his throat.

"Did Linda tell you why I'm here?" Jim asked.

"Yeah."

"When is your rent up?" Jim asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Then I guess we don't have much time," Jim said.

"Yeah, I guess there are a few things we have to talk about first," Michael said. He spread his hands. "It's your house, you make the rules," he said.

"You're not exactly coming into the game with no cards," Jim said. He took a long, thoughtful drink from his beer. "Do you love my wife?" he asked.

"Yes, I believe I do."

"You believe you do?"

"I've never felt this way about a woman, I don't know."

"Well, she has felt this way about a man before and she says she loves you," Jim said.

"I'm glad to hear that. For me, not you," he said.

Jim looked across the table at him, letting his eyes rove openly over his good looks and his well-muscled body that clothes couldn't hide. "I shouldn't say this, but I can see why she would be attracted to you."

Michael looked down, embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess. It's a rather awkward compliment, isn't it? You must know why I was attracted to her, too."

"Yes."

Michael put out his hands in a helpless gesture. "Look, I don't know where this is going; I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"It's going something like this," Jim began. "I love my wife, more than anything or anybody on this earth. I love her so much that I'll forgive her anything she does as long as I can remain in her life and have her as part of my life. So much that you're moving in with us."

Michael swallowed hard, shaking his head in disbelief.

"We'll get you moved in today, if that's convenient," Jim said.

"Yes."

"No rent or room and board till you find a job and get on your feet. That's a given, and it needs to be quick. You're not going to live like a leach."

"No, sir, I wouldn't do that," Michael said.

It surprised and bothered Jim to hear the guy call him sir, but it meant that he had control of the situation.

"We, uh.....we've covered the logistics and the economics of it...there're a couple of other issues...," Michael began.

"Linda calls the shots on the other issues, not us," Jim cut in.

"So we....we're going to, uh....share your wife," Michael said.

"It's a living arrangement," Jim said.

"I'm not moving in as the gardener or the handyman," Michael pointed out.

"You're right. Let's call it what it is. You're moving in as my wife's lover, with the man who loves her more. You will have the same privileges as me, obviously. How equally we share her is up to her. I'm not making any demands on her one way or the other. And I don't expect you to."

"You're either nuts or understanding to a fault," Michael said.

"I'm nuts about my wife so I can be understanding to a fault," Jim said.

"I wish to hell, for your sake, I could back out of the situation, walk away from her, but I can't," Michael said.

"And apparently she can't walk away from you, so we make the best of it," Jim said.

"Look, we haven't quite called it like it is," Michael said. "I'm going to be sleeping with your wife, under your roof. I don't know the bedroom or sleeping arrangements. I don't know if I'm going to wake up looking down the barrel of a gun some morning."

"We both know you're going to be sleeping with my wife, as I will be, too. The when, where, how often is left up to Linda. You're safe from me as long as you're good to her. Mistreat her and I'll blow your brains out."

Michael gave a surprised, nervous laugh. "Well, that's good to know where I stand. I won't mistreat her. I'll be as good to her as she'll let me."

"We both will," Jim said. "Any problems, you and I work them out. No family pow-wows, just you and me."

"All right."

Jim finished his beer. Michael held his beer up in a salute. "Here's to civilized men." He downed his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Being civilized has nothing to do with it. I love my wife," Jim said flatly.

"I can see that. Which makes it all the more painful that I can't walk away from her. I wish I could. I really do, for your sake," he told him again.

"My sake doesn't count in this. If you walked away now you would break her heart. I don't want to see that happen.

Michael gave a thin, lop-sided grin; maybe a mischievous grin. "That sounds almost like a threat; like I'm committed, like it or not."

"The only threat is if you mistreat her. It's up to you, too, to make this work. I'm the one who has to pick up the pieces if it doesn't. Understand, I'm looking at this as a temporary situation; till she gets you out of her system."

"You don't have much faith in me, do you?" Michael said.

"I have faith that you must be a hell of a man, because I am, and she's turned her attention to you."

"But she isn't exactly dumping you for me. That says something," Michael pointed out.

"It says she trusts me more than she does you," Jim said. "So, what say we go get your stuff. I'm driving my pickup."

"You won't need more than that; I don't have much stuff."

"You won't need much, your room will be furnished," Jim said.

Michael led the way to his apartment. As they were loading his meager belongings onto the truck, to Jim, it was like he was moving his younger brother or his son back in. He couldn't comprehend that this young muscle-stud was moving into his house as his wife's lover. It began to soak in when they got home and they were moving his stuff into the guest room; a chair, a chest of drawers, a lamp, his clothes and some boxes of personal stuff. When they were finished there was a nervous moment when neither of them knew what to say or do.

"Well, I think I'll go looking some more for a job," Michael said.

"Good."

Linda was still out of the house. Jim was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cold beer when she came home.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied.

"Did you and Michael meet?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And?"

"He's moved in," Jim said.

"Oh! Oh, my. You must have hit it off," she said.

"We didn't have much choice," he said dryly. "I put him in the spare bedroom, is that all right?"

"Yes. Yes, but where will you...?"

"In my den," he cut in.

"You can't sleep on that old couch," Linda said.

"I'll be fine."

She went behind him and began massaging his neck and shoulder muscles. "Jim, I can't tell you how much I love you for doing this," she said.

"I just wish you could love me without me doing it," he said, reaching back to pat her hand.

"Where is Michael? Is he here?" she asked.

"No, he went out job hunting."

"He said he wouldn't be a mooch," Linda said.

"We already had that understanding," Jim said. "We haven't talked about how we we're going to work this," he went on. "Do I come to you or do you come to me...or to him? Or do Michael and I work it out between us?"

"I would rather it be spontaneous."

"That could prove embarrassing if I decided to pay you a visit and Michael is already there, or vice-versa," he said.

"I don't think Michael would be embarrassed," she said.

"Would you?" Jim asked.

"It's not like we don't all know what's going on," she said.

Jim nodded. "All right, I'll take my chances."

Michael came home late from job hunting. Linda held supper for him and she and Jim were at the table. He came in with dirt all over his face and arms and his clothes were dirty.

"My Lord, what happened to you?" she asked.

"I got a job and they said I could start right away," he replied, with a subtle glance at Jim. "So I'll start paying rent right away."

"That's wonderful," Linda said.

"Yeah, that's great," Jim said.

"Well, I need to shower, as you can see....if that's all right."

"Don't be long, we've held supper for you," Linda said.

Jim sat at the kitchen table staring out the window while Linda started putting supper on the table.

"Jim...?"

"I'm just trying to let this all soak in," he said.

"Yes, so am I."

"It seems so surreal. I know it but I can't believe we're doing it," he said.

"You're being wonderful about it, honey," she said as she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

"Shit, what will people think? If your family finds out, or mine..."

"Well, both of our families live so far away, there's not much chance that they'll ever find out. As for anyone else...we don't have friends over that often. Of course some people at work know about us."

Just then Michael came downstairs, wearing a pair of old gym shorts and socks. No shoes and no shirt. Jim couldn't help being impressed; shit, he was built, and he wondered if he was purposely showing off his body.

"You'll have to put a shirt on at the table," Jim said. "It's one of her house rules."

"Oh. Okay, yes, sir," Michael said respectfully. "I'll see if I can find something. Only thing is, everything I brought was laundry. I don't know if I have a clean T-shirt."

"I'll get you one of mine, then after supper you can get your laundry caught up," Jim said as he got up from the table. Michael followed him upstairs to his and Linda's bedroom where he dug out a clean T-shirt.

"Are you as nervous as I am?" the younger man asked.

"No, why should I be?" Jim said. It was a lie, but it gave him the upper hand.

"I guess you're right. It's your house."

"And my wife," Jim added.

"Yeah..."

They went back downstairs where Linda served up Michael's supper. She poured coffee for her and Jim. There was silence around the table, with furtive glances and nervous smiles. Michael choked down his food between answering questions about his job. Except that he would be bringing in some money, Jim didn't give a damn about his job but he liked seeing the guy so nervous. It surprised him a little after the confidence he displayed in the bar. He finished eating, Jim thought, before he'd had enough; he just wanted to break up the situation around the table.

"Well, I...I think I'll go on upstairs," Michael said.

"So soon?" Linda asked.

"I have to be at work at five," he said.

"My goodness, so early."

"Yeah." He glanced at Jim as he stood and shoved his chair back. "Supper was very good," he told Linda.

"One more thing," Jim said.

Michael stopped at the doorway and turned around. It was almost like a picture, the way the big, young stud's muscular frame filled the doorway.

"If we happen to have visitors, like family, you're a buddy of mine from work, down on his luck, and we're letting you stay here till you get on your feet. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Not a move, not even a look at my wife," Jim said.

"Yes, sir," Michael said and then he went upstairs.

"He's nervous," Linda remarked when he was gone.

"I wonder why," Jim said.

It went without saying that Jim and Linda would go to bed together as they had been doing for eighteen years. Jim was nervous too, but not too nervous to make love to her. It was strange, knowing that her lover was just down the hall, and it made him feel good, knowing that Michael was lying in bed, aching to be where he was. Good as his performance was, Linda was restless, and he thought, unsatisfied as she tossed and turned.

"You want him, don't you?" Jim said quietly.

"I thought you were asleep," she said.

"I'll go get him," Jim said as he threw the sheet back.

"No...no, you don't have to do that. I....I don't feel right about you doing that," she said.

He sat on the edge of the bed looking at her. "You're lover is down the hall, aching to have you, and you wan him here, that's what doesn't feel right," he said in a surly tone. Then he leaned over and kissed her gently. "Hey, this was what it's all about, I'll go get him," he said. He slipped on a pair of shorts. Down the hall he tapped lightly on Michael's door. He could see the light under the door.

"Yeah. It's open." He opened the door to find Michael stretched out on the bed with the sheet down to his waist, showing his muscular, naked upper body. There was a lump under the sheet, like he had a hardon, but it wasn't moving. He was reading.

"She kick you out?" Michael asked.

"No. I came to get you, that's all," Jim said.

Michael smiled. "Didn't get the job done?" he asked smartly.

"Oh, I did the job," Jim shot back. "She didn't ask for you. But you're part of what this is all about. I'll be downstairs in my den; I won't bother you."

Michael nodded, smiling and laid the sheet back and swung his muscular legs over the edge of the bed. Jim did a double-take. He didn't have a hardon. The lump under the sheet was his cock in its natural state, and he was huge. His cock swung out from his hairy loins like a hunk of radiator hose, easily six inches, thick and meaty and long and veiny. He was cut but there was a generous collar that remained--a sure sign of great potential. Michael saw Jim looking at him.

"Don't worry, she can handle it," Michael assured him with a grinning smirk.

Jim nodded and tore his eyes away from the awesome manhood and walked to the stairs. Of course she could handle him; she'd been handling him all along. He heard Michael's soft footsteps going down the hall, into his bedroom; to his wife. Downstairs, Jim grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen and went to his den. He didn't know what he was feeling; anger, doubt, inferiority, inadequate...he didn't know but he couldn't cope with them without the whiskey.

His bedroom was situated directly over his den and he hadn't realized before how the sound carried. He could hear their muffled voices and he strained to hear the words. Moments later he heard Linda's moans and muffled squeals, then the gently thumping of the bed. "God, he's fucking her," he mumbled to himself. "I'm sitting down here letting another man fuck my wife!" A tiny part of him wanted to set the whiskey bottle down and rush upstairs and stop it. But the way Michael was built, it would be a real tussle if he decided to resist, and he wasn't sure how Linda would take it if he barged in. The thumping stopped and he heard louder moans and `Ohh Godds'. What was he doing to her? Finally, he couldn't resist; he crept back upstairs and moved quietly down the hallway to his bedroom. He knelt down to peek through the keyhole with a gasp.

Michael was squatted down beside the bed holding Linda's legs up and out wide and his face was buried between them. He was eating her pussy! Jim had never done that. The guy's cock stood up at an angle, monstrous and menacing. It looked like it was ten inches long...possibly a foot, and big around as his wrist. Had she actually taken all of that, Jim wondered. A moment later he didn't have to wonder. Michael raised his head, stood and hunkered over her and buried his huge cock in her pussy.

"Ohh, My Goddd, Michael...I love it when you do that...take me by surprise right in the middle of it," Linda moaned.

"Doesn't Jim ever do that for you?" Michael asked.

"No, he never has," she replied.

"Maybe I ought to call him up and give him lessons on how to treat his wife."

"I wish we could, but I don't know if he could handle it," she said.

Jim remained at the door, watching the young stud fuck his wife. Then he pulled out and hunkered down to eat her pussy again. She grabbed the pillow to stifle her screams of pleasure. It went on like that, Michael alternating between eating her pussy and fucking her. The more Jim watched them the more sure he was that he could handle it. He found himself developing a fascination for the big stud; his perfectly muscled body combined with his good looks and that huge cock...yeah, he could take lessons from the guy if he could swallow his pride long enough.

His own cock tented his shorts as he watched Michael having sex with his wife and more than once he almost worked up the nerve to go in, but there was that tiny streak of cowardice that stopped him. It was wrong, but he was enjoying watching them. It was better than any porno flick he'd ever seen. He thought of Bradley, a guy he worked with, who talked about him and his wife hosting and going to sex parties with other couples and swapping mates. He'd tried more than once to get Jim to talk to Linda about it, but he wasn't at all turned on by the idea; till now. He watched till Michael brought her to a shuddering climax then he pulled out and shot his load all over her and collapsed beside her. He was jolted to feel his shorts being soaked with his own cum.

Witnessing their lust satisfied, the guilt and remorse set in. The whole thing was perverted. Allowing this strange man to live with them and have his wife any time he wanted. Taking turns with another man, for chrissakes--for the affections of his own wife--and now, watching that same man make love to his wife. He couldn't take any more. He would ask...no, he would tell Michael to leave.

His chance came the next morning when Linda left him and Michael at the breakfast table while she went upstairs to get ready for work. They were naked, as was Linda. It was something they'd started doing, eating breakfast naked, right out of bed.

"I want you to leave," Jim told him.

"You want me to leave?" he asked with a frowning smile. "Have you talked to your wife about this? Does Linda want me to leave?"

"It's not her choice," Jim said.

"Oh. Well, if I do, she'll go with me, you know that," Michael said.

"I don't think so," Jim said.

Michael stood up from the table, smiling down at his huge manhood. "You really think she's going to let me walk away with this?" he said.

"Love is more than a big cock," Jim said.

"Maybe so, but a big cock sure helps, I've proved that," Michael said.

"Just pack your shit and get out," Jim said.

"You moved me in, are you going to move me out?" Michael asked.

"No," Jim replied.

There was nothing else said. Not till Jim came home from work and found Michael's car still there. He went upstairs to find him packing his stuff.

"Sorry, but I had to find a place to go," Michael said. "Oh, and, uh...Linda's coming with me," he added.

"You talked to Linda?"

"I wasn't going to walk out on her without saying anything. I owe her more than that," Michael said.

"You don't owe my wife anything," Jim said.

Michael shrugged. "Well, I talked to her, and she's going with me."

"She said that?"

Michael smiled. "Her stuff is already in my car. I'm picking her up from work tonight."

Jim felt himself going pale as his stomach churned. Dam, what had he done? He was running her off. She was leaving without even telling him. It cut him to the bone but he should have known she couldn't give up the big stud. He stood there in numb silence, watching Michael empty the dresser drawers into his suitcases. If he didn't do something, his wife was going to be out of his life for good. He swallowed hard, trying to form words. Finally, he choked it out. "Don't go," he said huskily.

Michael paused in the middle of closing his suitcase, a thin smile on his handsome face. "What?"

"Don't go," Jim said again. "Pick her up after work, but bring her back here. I'll go bring her stuff in from your car." He started to move to the door but Michael stepped in front of him.

"Huh-uh," he said, shaking his head with that same leering smile. "You can't jack us around like that."

"I'm not jacking you around," Jim said. "I'm asking you to stay."

Michael laughed. "Are you sure? I mean, your time with her was dwindling down. I've been the one keeping your side of the bed warm."

"I...I know, but...I'll take any time she'll give me," he said.

Michael shook his head. "You are fuckin' pitiful, you know that?" he said.

"I'm in love with my wife," Jim said.

"I don't think she's in love with you," Michael said. "I don't even know if she's in love with me. Sometimes, I think she's in love with my cock and my body. And if that's true, well, your time is going to be less and less. You can't compete, man. Who don't you just face it and let it end? We would all be happier. In fact, why don't you pack up and leave and leave us to our life together?"

Jim was devastated by the man's reaction. He was so angry and hurt that he didn't know whether to cry or light into him.

"On second thought," Michael said as he closed his suitcase. "It's your house. We'll leave you to it." Now it was Jim who leaned his back against the door.

"You're not going to try to stop me," Michael scoffed, tightening his muscles.

"I'm asking you...don't go...I'll do anything. It doesn't matter, even, if I don't have sex with her as long as I can be close to her and know she's happy. And you make her happy, I know that."

"Yeah, I never had a problem with that," Michael said cockily. "But sometimes it's just too crowded here."

"I won't be in your way," he said. "I just want her under the same roof. I'll get down on my knees and beg if you want me to."

Michael looked at him. "I wonder if Linda has any idea how devoted you are."

"Will you stay?" Jim asked anxiously. When Michael didn't reply and he looked like he was thinking about it Jim slowly slid down the door and dropped to his knees.

"You really are willing to do anything," Michael said.

"Yes."

"Anything," Michael said.

"Yes. Just don't take her away," Jim said.

Michael's scowling smile slowly turned into an evil grin as he flicked open the top button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. Jim watched in fearful disbelief as he realized what Michael was going to make him do. Or maybe he was just bluffing. But he shoved his jeans down off his hips then bent over to shove them past his knees as he stepped out of his sneakers. He stood on one leg then the other to take his jeans off and stood in his briefs. Jim was spellbound by the sight of the man...so big, so muscular and masculine...his cock bulging inside his tiny briefs. Then he was walking toward him, his thumbs curled inside the waistband, pulling it down, the bulge shifting from side to side as he walked. The dark flurry of hair came into sight, then the thick root of his cock. He came closer, the thick muscles in his thighs bulging and leaping with each step, and his abs pulling and rippling beautifully. As he stood squarely in front of him, he pulled the front of his briefs all the way down and tucked the waistband under his balls. His huge cock swung out in Jim's face, rubbery and thick and menacing.

"Are you willing to do this?" Michael asked huskily.

The head of his cock was the size of a baseball, so big that Jim didn't think he could get it in his mouth even if he wanted to, and he wondered what it must feel like for Linda to have the huge tool boring into her. The shaft was thick and veiny, the network of veins pulsating with the life blood that caused the big cock to expand. There was pearl-like moisture quickly forming a pool in the wide piss slit.

"Well?" Michael asked as he twisted his hips, causing his big cock to swing back and forth.

He was so close that Jim could feel the heat of his cock, and smell the sweet manly musk of his crotch. Strangely, it made him heady, like an aphrodisiac.

"I..." He swallowed hard. "I c-cant."

"Oh, you don't love her quite that much," Michael scoffed.

"Yes, but....d-don't ask me to do this," Jim said.

"I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm just offering you a chance to prove how much you love your wife...to show me what you'll do to keep her."

Jim felt the wet in his eyes and fought to keep them from becoming tears. Shit, he couldn't cry in front of this guy! He cursed the tear that fell down his cheek. Michael wiped it off with his fingertip then scooped out the ball juice from the end of his cock and offered it to Jim. He let his lips go slack for Michael's finger and he shoved it in his mouth and wiped it on his tongue.

"How's that taste?"

"Sort of salty," Jim replied huskily.

"That's from your tears. My cum tastes sweet," Michael said as he probed Jim's mouth with is thick finger. He shoved it in and out of his mouth, between Jim's tightly pursed lips. "Let me know when you've had enough practice sucking on my finger, I'll give you the real thing."

Jim was terrified at the prospect of having the huge cock shoved in his mouth; possibly down his throat! Could he even get it in his mouth? He sucked and lavered his tongue around Michael's finger, hoping to call his bluff, or hoping to delay the inevitable. Then Michael pulled his finger out.

"I think you're ready," he said.

"Don't make me do this," Jim said in a hoarse whisper, yet his lips remained slack, the tip of his tongue resting on his lower lip.

"I'm not asking you, I'm not making you. It's all about how much do you love your wife," Michael said. "Cause you know she's gonna go with me, hanging onto this big cock, and she probably won't even look back."

Jim wanted to believe she wouldn't go, but deep inside he knew she would. She couldn't help herself; she was addicted to the big, muscular stud.

"I don't have a lot of time fuck around here, she's expecting me to pick her up," Michael said as he stepped over and picked up his shorts. He had them flung out, about to put them on when Jim stopped him.

"Wait," he said as he reached out and took the shorts from him. He heard Michael chuckle. Finally, he closed his eyes and wet his lips and opened his mouth.

"Aww, yeah, you want it," Michael said, laughing.

"I don't want it, but I'll do it," Jim said. And suddenly his mouth was filled with warm, live, meaty cock--filled to the brim. He instinctively explored it with his tongue; the broad head with its thick rim that formed a big mushroom on the end of the shaft. He could taste the ball juice flowing onto his tongue and Michael was right, it tasted good. He didn't know how much cock he had in his mouth and he was afraid to open his eyes and look. Michael started pumping his cock in and out of his mouth.

"Awww, yeahhhhhh, that's good," he moaned. "Fuck, yeah, use your tongue on it. Fuck, are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Jim hated the humiliation that Michael was heaping on him but he endured. He only prayed that he didn't tell Linda about it. Michael put his hands on top of Jim's head and pumped harder, pressing the head of his cock hard against the opening of his throat. Several times, the warm meat conformed to the opening and nearly slipped through but Jim backed off of it. After several tries, he backed off completely.

"I can't take it all. I'll suck it but I can't take it all the way," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I think you could if you tried; you were doing real good," Michael said. "But you can take your time and work up to it. Like I said, I'm not gonna force you."

Jim slobbered and sucked as best he could, hoping to end it as quickly as possible. He prayed Michael wouldn't insist on shooting in his mouth. He would be sick for sure if he did that. He soon realized that it was about humiliation and power, more than sex. It was as if he were being mentally bludgeoned with the huge cock as well as being orally assaulted. At one opportunity to breath, Jim made his final plea.

"Don't cum in my mouth, okay?"

"I'll try to pull out, if I can...if I remember," Michael said.

"I can't do that," Jim said.

"You said you couldn't suck cock but you're sure as hell doing it."

"But not that," Jim said firmly. "I can't do it. Please don't make me."

Without a word, Michael shoved his cock back in his mouth and fucked his face. Jim knew he was trying to work up his load, and that he would probably deliver the final blow of humiliation. He braced himself, choking and slobbering on the big, driving cock.

"I'll warn you, okay," Michael said as he thrust his huge cock in and out Jim's mouth. "Like now...I'm getting there...awwwhhh, it's coming! Fuck, man, I'm gonna shoot!!" And the whole time he was groaning, he was coming.

As much as he tried, Jim wasn't prepared for the experience of taking his first load of cum in his mouth. The stuff shot out like a water cannon, thick and hot, and splattered against the back of his mouth. It came hard and fast. "Uuggghh....Aawwgghh...." He choked as his mouth was filled with the stuff.

"Don't choke, swallow it," Michael said as he squeezed Jim's nose.

Jim closed his eyes to the tears and forced himself to swallow. He was surprised how easily he gulped the stuff down. It slid down his throat sort of in globs.

"Aww, fuck, yeahhhh! Goddam, you can swallow, too. Thought you said you couldn't do that!"

Jim hated the man for humiliating him, but what was one more humiliation? He hated himself, too, for allowing himself to be turned into a eunuch in order to be the man he longed to be for his wife. It was laughable, when he had in his mouth the cock of the guy who was being the real man to his wife. When Michael pulled his cock out of his mouth, Jim swiped at the trail of cum he left on his mouth. Tears were running down his cheeks, not from crying but from choking. He stood up.

"Tonight, you go first," Michael said. "I'll come in later and finish the job right."

Jim got to his feet, his legs shaking, and stumbled through the door. He heard it close behind him, and Michael laughing to himself.

The hours before Linda got home, Jim was beside himself with anger and guilt and frustration. He wished he had the courage to pack his stuff and get out, but the mystique of his wife clung to him like a shroud. He would do their bidding, no matter what the cost in humiliation and degradation. He would take his turn first and then let Michael come in to take his place, and the younger stud probably would put the finish touches on his lovemaking. It was ludicrous and unbelievable, but it was his painful reality.

Michael and Linda were cheerful as always at supper. Jim tried to be but he couldn't get past the humiliation Michael had heaped on him earlier, and what he would heap on in just a little while. He prayed he wouldn't tell Linda. Michael wasted no time in making his intentions known.

"Okay, I'll do the dishes," he said as he stood up and pushed his chair back.

"Why, Michael, that's awfully nice of you," Linda said.

"No, it's selfish of me," Michael said. "I want to let you guys get started."

"Michael! Don't talk like that!" Linda exclaimed. She took Jim's hand and led him up the stairs. "It's so sweet of Michael, don't you think?"

"He wants me out of the way," Jim said.

"What?" she asked with a frown.

"He wants me out of the way so he can come in and do the job right, were his words."

"Oh, Jim, he's only joking around."

"Is he?"

She ignored him and led the way up the stairs and into their bedroom. Jim was pleased that she acted like she really wanted him. He was pleased with her moans and her whispered vulgarity that Michael had taught her that turned them both on so much. He was satisfied that he was doing the job, fucking his wife like she ought to be fucked. But the image of Michael lingered in the back of his mind, knowing the big stud was going to come in and finish it the way he couldn't.

When they were finished, she lay in his arms, loving as always, as if they were alone in the house, only Jim knew Michael was lurking somewhere, waiting. Linda seemed in no rush for him to leave and have Michael come to her. Jim thought how funny it would be if she turned him away. Linda was getting lovey again, like she wanted it again and Jim's cock was getting hard. Suddenly there was a tap at the door and it opened.

"I see you guys started without me," Michael joked.

Linda laughed and Jim tried to smile. Was he there to kick him out of his own bed? To send him to another room like a bad boy? Jim didn't move. Rather, he kept caressing Linda's body, sliding his hard cock against her thigh, and she was responding. Maybe she wanted to tease Michael. Jim wanted it to be a slap in the face, for the big stud to watch him fuck his wife, the woman he pretended to own.

"Hey, that's great, we can have a three way," Michael said as he began taking off his clothes.

Jim started to protest. He didn't want to be in competition with the guy and have him show him up, all face-to -face. Jim rolled on top of Linda and began fucking her again. She moaned and wrapped her legs around him and for a moment Jim felt the old husbandly pride that had been absent for so long.

"Staking your claim, I see," Michael said, laughing as he climbed on the bed with them. "That's okay," he said as he began stroking Jim's butt. "I'm gonna stake my claim right here."

Jim froze in mid-stroke, looking over his shoulder in horror. He was even more horrified at Linda's squeal of approval.

"Oh, let him," she cooed. "It'll be wonderful, having the weight of both of you on me, and that big cock of yours buried so deep. Let him fuck you, Jim. It's a wonderful way we can all be together."

His mind was amuck with confusion and fright and humiliation and a dozen other emotions all jumbled together. He didn't know what to do. If he refused, he would be refusing his wife. He would probably be shoved aside like trash and the big stud would take his place in the saddle. He tried to weigh what he would loose and what he would gain by that. If he let it happen, he would be loosing the last vestige of his manhood; a tiny vestige that he'd clung to after Michael made him suck his cock. He jumped at the feel of Michael's slick finger probing his ass.

"I don't think so," Jim said and pulled his cock out. He climbed off the bed and left the room, leaving Michael chuckling again. By the time he got downstairs to the den, he could hear the bed creaking overhead. He went to the kitchen for the bottle of whiskey and returned. As he drank himself into a comfortable stupor he thought of Bradley, at work, and wondered how in the world he was able to trade his wife off for another man's wife, and watch the guy fuck her. Yet they were both happy with the arrangement.

Bradley. He joked all the time about bringing him and Linda in on it, and harped that he should at least talk to Linda about it. Brad was a stud. A big man with a barrel chest matted with hair that he kept trimmed, and huge arms and thighs, and from what Jim had seen hauled at the urinal from time to time...well, guys joked that he hauled out a beer can to take a piss. He wasn't even aware that his mind was made up till he woke up the next morning with the decision that he would talk to Brad.

He made it a point to approach him at the most opportune time; while they were standing side by side at the urinals. It was Saturday and they were working overtime.

"Listen, I've been thinking about what you said...about me and Linda," he began.

"Oh, yeah? Great!" Brad exclaimed excitedly.

"But I don't want you to bring your wife; not at first. Just you, till I see how Linda handles the idea."

"Sure, I've done that before, had a little preview," Brad said. "When?"

"Tonight would be fine if you can make it."

"I'll make it," he said eagerly.

"One thing...Linda doesn't know."

"Whoa, I don't know about that," Brad said as he stuffed his cock back in his jeans and stepped back to button them up. "

"I wanta surprise her," Jim said.

"That could get hairy," said Brad.

"We'll play it by ear. I'll call her and tell her you're coming to dinner; tell her your wife is out of town."

"All right," Brad said, nodding. "Sounds interesting. Possibly hairy, but interesting."

"Oh, one more thing. There'll be another guy there. A younger guy; he lives with us."

Brad arched his brow with a curious smile. "A four-way?" he asked.

"It could work out that. Probably will," Jim said.

"Sounds very interesting," Brad said, his smile widening. "Yeah, I figured you might show the kid how its done."

"You're sure Linda's gonna go for this," Brad said, sounding doubtful.

"I think she will."

Linda seemed rather pleased that Jim had invited Brad for dinner. He thought she probably believed he was setting something up but she didn't ask. Michael, on the other hand, didn't seem as pleased. He was civil and polite but that was all. Jim was sure he also thought he might be setting something up, like some competition for him. Maybe he was; he really didn't know himself. What he did want to do was pry Linda away from him; to let her know that he was okay with bringing other guys into their marriage if that made her happy. He just didn't want it to be one guy, who he was afraid would eventually take her away from him.

It was a good dinner, and Brad ate his fill. Jim knew his wife wasn't big on cooking. Nothing had been said, or even hinted at, about the real reason Brad was there. Jim was sure Linda, and Michael, were suspicious and anxious, and he knew Brad was waiting to see how it was going to play out. After dinner he invited Michael and Brad to the den to drink beer and watch a football game.

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to help with the dishes to repay your wife for one of the best meals I've had in months," Brad said.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said. "You men go on and watch your football game."

"No, I insist," Brad said.

"Come on, Mike," Jim said and got four beers out of the fridge. If Brad wanted to get the ball rolling himself, that was fine with him. Mike didn't want to go with him and leave Linda with Brad, but he couldn't get out of gracefully. They were barely into the game and their first can of beer when he brought it up.

"Is this a setup?" he asked, eyeing me over the top of his beer can.

"A setup?" Jim asked with a scowl.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about; did that guy come just for dinner?"

"That was the invitation," Jim said with a straight face.

He nodded with a look that told him he didn't believe him. They watched the game through another beer apiece and Jim went to get us some more.

"Just one for me," Michael said.

Brad and Linda were talking and laughing while he dried the dishes.

"How're you guys getting along...with the dishes," Jim asked.

"We're getting along fine...with the dishes," Brad replied with a knowing smile.

"Brad is telling tales from work; about some of the shenanigans you guys pull at work," Lind said, laughing.

"Don't believe a word he says," Jim said. Then he decided to give things a nudge. Partly, it was because to wanted to make Michael squirm. "Look, Brad, your wife won't be back till late tomorrow night, why don't you spend the night here and get filled up on Linda's great cooking. Sunday dinner is fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy."

He looked at Linda. "I don't want to intrude."

"It wouldn't be an intrusion," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, we'd be glad to have you," she said. Jim couldn't tell whether she was picking up on what was coming down; he didn't know what she and Brad had been talking and laughing about.

"Well, it's awfully tempting, if I wouldn't be putting you out," Brad said.

"So, it's settled," Jim declared and went back to Mike in the den with fresh beers. He had overheard.

"He's staying the night? Where he's going to sleep?" he asked with a frown.

"Probably anywhere he wants to," Jim said.

"It was a setup," he said.

"No, not really. But I do know he and his wife swap around. And he is getting along real well with Linda," Jim said.

"You fucker. How could you do that?"

"How could I do what? Brad was invited; you weren't," Jim reminded him.

"She's going to hate you for this," Michael said.

"Or thank me," Jim said.

Mike shook his head with disgust and stood up. "I'm going up to bed," he said.

Plenty of time had passed to have the dishes done and the kitchen cleaned up and Jim went in to check on them. He stopped cold in the doorway; neither of them could see him. The dishes were indeed done and Linda and Brad were indeed getting along just fine. He had her wrapped in his powerful arms, his body smashed against hers, pressing her back against the refrigerator. One of her legs was wrapped around his calf as he ground his loins hard against hers, and her hand was down between them.

"Oh, My Lord!" she squealed

"Yeah you like that, huh?" Brad growled.

They shifted positions and Jim could see that Brad's belt was undone, his fly was laying open and she had his cock in her hand. He watched their rut for a moment then moved into the kitchen.

"You guys need to get a room," he said.

Linda squealed with surprise and looked around Brad's shoulder, and Brad looked around with a leering grin.

"You got a vacancy?" he asked.

Up the stairs, last door on the right," Jim said.

"How about it, do you wanta get a room?" Brad asked her.

"Oh, Yess," she replied, her eyes dancing as she smiled at her husband.

Brad picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Jim followed them. As he came to the top of the stairs, Michael was standing in his doorway in his shorts, watching Brad carry her to their bedroom, looking really down.

"You might as well get some sleep, I think she's going to be occupied for awhile," Jim told him.

"I can't believe you did this," Michael growled, and went in his room and closed the door.

"Hey, she wasn't fighting him," Jim pointed out, but he had already closed the door. He walked on down the hallway to the bedroom and paused at the partially closed door. He wanted to go in but wasn't sure he should. This wasn't Michael, her lover. He stood at the door and listened to their muffled voices, then heard Linda moan and Brad laugh softly.

"I'll take it easy with you," he told her.

"Please, at least at first," she said.

"This guy, Michael, where does he fit into the picture?" Brad asked her.

"He's my live-in lover," she replied.

"Fuck! No shit! Jim allows you to have a lover living right in the house?"

"Jim is a very generous and understand man."

"Or he can't get the job done himself," Brad said.

"Trust me, Jim has no trouble getting the job done," Linda said. "But he understands that a woman can love two men."

"Or three," Brad said. "You ready?"

"Yes, but be easy. I've never even seen such a thick cock before."

After a sharp intake of breath, there was quiet for a moment, then a loud sigh.

"You've got it all, babe," Brad said.

All Jim could hear was a choked gasp. He waited a moment more then couldn't restrain himself. He squatted down on his haunches then very slowly eased the door open till he could see the bed. His mouth flew open. They couldn't see him; Brad lay sprawled on his back with Linda on top of him, also on her back while he pumped her cock into her pussy from behind. Jim gaped at their juncture; his wife legs were spread wide, her feet set on either side of Brad's thick thighs and her pussy stretched around a cock the size of a baseball bat; the business end.

"My Godd!" Jim murmured under his breath. Brad was showing her no mercy; he was fucking her with the power of a piledriver, with one muscular arm around her waist to hold her in place. His cock spread her pussy so wide that Jim could see her clit. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around to see Michael standing there. He peered into the room and his hand went to the front of his bulging shorts.

"Fuck!" he whispered.

Jim stood up, easing the door closed a few inches. "Yeah, I hope he doesn't ruin her for you," he said.

"He's ruining her for both of us," Michael said as he mauled his manhood through his shorts. Finally, he shoved them down and stepped out of them, stroking his big cock.

"You wanta take care of this for me, or I'm going in," he said, waving his cock at Jim.

Jim ignored him. He watched for a moment then nudged Jim out of the way and opened the door and strode inside.

Jim watched as he crawled up over the foot of the bed and hunkered down to lick Linda's clit.

"AAAaaahhhhh!" she cried out with surprise.

"What the fuck...!" Brad moved his head to the side to see what was going on. "Well, fucker, join the party," he said with sarcasm.

Jim envied Michael's boldness and hated himself for not having the courage to barge in like that. Just then Linda lifted her head to watch Michael licking her clit and saw Jim standing at the door.

"Ohh, Jim, Honey, come in!" she cooed. "Come to me."

He entered the room on shaky legs and stood at the side of the bed and Linda reached out for his hand. She fumbled with his fly and Jim began taking off his clothes.

"Dam, Jim, we gotta get you two in our group," Brad said. "The guys are going to go nuts over your wife."

When Jim was naked, suddenly Michael reached out for his arm, urging him to get on the bed. At the same time he pulled Brad's cock out of Linda's pussy. "Come on, get up here and do your job; she's your wife," he said as he sat back on his haunches.

Brad let out an agonizing groan at the sudden loss of her warm pussy. Jim stared at the gaping hole that was his wife's pussy. The lips palpitated way up inside her, she was so stretched that he could see the velvety pink lining. He let Michael steady him as he climbed on the bed, between his wife's legs. He didn't know how he was going to fill the hole that Brad had left but he hunkered down and shoves his cock in her. He was happy that she cried out with pleasure, and his ego fueled his macho and he began fucking her. Barely a moment passed before Michael started feeling his butt and he was afraid he would try what he'd tried before.

"Hey, can we alter positions here?" Brad asked. "I'm a big guy, but I can't support the weight of the world. If you're gonna be selfish and fuck your own wife, at least let me watch get in a position where I can watch."

They all broke position so Brad could get out from under Linda, then Jim started fucking her again. Now Brad and Michael were both behind him and he could tell from the feel of Brad's big rough hands that he was playing with his butt, too.

"Hey, I've got some shit here we all ought to try," Brad said as he got off the bed to retrieve his jeans. He got back on the bed, holding an opened, small brown bottle up to Jim's nose. Jim jerked his head away. He didn't want to get high on poppers; he knew the stuff would break down his inhibitions.

"Come on, try it," Brad insisted, forcing the bottle to his nose.

He couldn't get away from him and inadvertently breathed in a couple of whiffs and the immediate effect relaxed him so he took several more hits willingly.

"Yeah, you're gonna be sailing," Brad said as he offered the stuff to Linda. When he refused, he didn't force her. He took several snorts himself then gave the bottle to Michael who also took a strong hit.

Jim felt hands on his butt again, this time more bold, strong fingers probing, this time slicked up. He winced when he felt a finger penetrate his ass but he didn't try to stop whoever had done it. The penetration only served to make his cock throb harder and made him feel hornier than ever. Then there was a second finger, and he thought it might be Brad's, joining Michael's finger. Fuck...can't let `em do this, he thought. But it was feeling sort of good, and besides, he couldn't fight them both off and he didn't want to stop fucking his wife to even try. They probed deeper, their fingers working in opposite directions and just as one of them hit a spot inside him, another hand held the poppers to his nose again. Unlike before, he grabbed the hand and held it steady while he sucked in the acrid aroma till head was spinning hotly, without missing a stroke of his plunging cock.

"Ohh, Jim, Honey, what're they doing to you? Your cock feels so huge and you're being so aggressive," Linda moaned.

"I dunno...something...playing with my butt," he muttered. "Uunnnhhhhh!" he groaned suddenly surprised to find that it didn't hurt like he expected. Michael, or Brad, probed hard and deep and found something in there that made Jim cry out again.

"Yeah, that's it. I found your love nut," Michael said. "You like that?" he asked, as he rubbed his fingertips over the tiny nut.

"Ohhh...OHhhhhh...Awwwhhhhhhh, what're you doing to me!" Jim cried, unable to control himself.

"Oh, Jim, I can feel your cock throbbing even bigger when he does that," Linda cooed.

"It'll throb even bigger when I start sliding my cock back and forth over this spot," Michael said.

Jim was suddenly scared out of his wits at the thought being impaled on the huge cock. And he knew Michael wouldn't be gentle or easy. He would fuck him like the man he was and he would turn Jim into the pussy he wanted him to be if he gave him the chance. But then Brad brought the bottle up to his nose again and Jim knew he was doomed even as before he breathed the stuff in again.

"It's probably gonna hurt, so take a few whiffs of this," Brad told him.

Jim sucked the acrid aroma into his lungs, first one side of his nose then the other, till he felt his head spinning and getting warm and then he felt like he was sailing off somewhere.

"Ohh, Geezuss, what's happening?" he asked, in a dizzy stupor, fearful that he had taken too much.

"This is what's happening," Michael said.

Jim felt the heat of the man's cock pressing against his asshole and the next instant, it was searing his insides as Michael bore his cock into him. It hurt so bad he couldn't even cry out; he could only gape, wide-eyed, with his head tossed back in stunned shock. But Michael found the spot with his cock and was rubbing it gently back and forth and Jim found himself responding, shoving his butt back to grind around on the big cock, oblivious to the pain till it began to subside.

"Ohh, Yess, honey...Ohhh, I can feel you like it," Linda cooed.

"Do you like it?" Michael asked. "Tell us you like it."

"Yesss, Dammit!" he hissed angrily as he bore back onto Michael's big cock. He hated himself for it but he couldn't deny that he did like it. "Yes, I like it...what the fuck are you doing to me?...I like it!...fuck me...ohhhh, fuck me, you big stud." He heard the words but didn't recognize his own voice. It was more like his body was talking.

Michael chuckled and began driving his cock in and out of Jim's willing ass. By the time the poppers began to wear off, Jim was well and willingly into it and there was no denying it, to Michael or to Linda, that he liked being fucked. He had almost forgotten about Brad till his deep voice came through.

"Shit, Jim, I didn't know...Fuck, the guys are going to love this," he said.

"No!" Jim said, snapping his head around. "You can't tell anybody at work about this! It's the first time I ever did anything like this; they can't know."

"No, not the guys at work," Brad said, laughing. "I mean the guys in our little circle. Don't worry, Jim-Boy, you won't be alone in the crowd. There are two more guys who like taking it up the ass, and a half dozen guys who like giving it to them."

The idea of being the fuck boy for strange men with other men and their wives watching horrified Jim but he couldn't worry himself with that at the moment. He was being consumed with lust that he'd never experienced before; Michael's big, hot cock pounding into his guts, and he was ramming back to meet his thrusts, and on Michael's forward thrusts, his own cock was rammed into his wife's quivering cunt.

"Ohhh...Ohhh, Honey, its like he's fucking us both," she groaned.

For the time Michael fucked him, Jim loved him as much as he loved Linda. They were wonderful together, and as much as he hated the guy, he wanted it to last forever. But it came to an abrupt and explosive end. Michael was pounding his ass like a pile-driver when he suddenly lurched and moaned and Jim knew he was about to cum. He was excited with anticipation, and let out a tiny, squealing moan when he felt Michael's cum spurting deep inside him. The pleasure was more excruciating than the pain before, and it took all the will power he had to stave off his own climax. He just didn't want it to end. The bed shook under the man's trembling, and Jim could feel his sweat dripping on his bare back. His pistoning cock slowed till he buried it deep and left it to throb empty. With a loud intake of breath and a sigh, he pulled out and toppled to one side.

"He's all yours," he told Brad.

"Oh, Godd, No!" Jim gasped in a whisper, but already, Brad was positioning himself in back of him, and the next instant he felt the bluntness of the man's hot cock boring against his gaping asshole. "For Godd's sake, take it easy," he begged.

"I'll take it easy, you just take it," Brad joked as he put the strength of his hard butt and solid abs to the task of pushing his cock through the hole.

Jim was suddenly thankful that Michael had fucked him and stretched him somewhat, at least enough that Brad wouldn't rip him apart. No doubt he would drill him a new asshole, and he was glad he would have a day for it to close up.

"AAAawwwhhhhh!" he moaned softly as Brad bored through his clenching sphincter and burrowed into his guts. My Godd, My Godd, he thought as he was stuffed unmercifully with the ball-bat sized meat. The bulbous head smashed against his prostate and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. The touch of the man's hot cockmeat against his love nut was the beginning and the end. It was like a drill boring into his prostate, incessantly, without penetrating, grinding at the very essence of his manhood. Godd, he couldn't stand it! He'd never felt such intense pleasure in his life! Suddenly the organ quivered violently and collapsed under the pressure, sending its man-potion exploding through Jim's seminal veins. Jim clung to the headboard to hang onto his sanity.

"I'm coming!" he gasped to Linda, and the next instant he felt Brad's cock explode, spewing hot semen against his prostate like liquid heat. He tossed his head back in pained agony. "Ohh, My Goddd!"

Linda, panting and gasping under the weight of both of them, cried out as he emptied his load into her pussy. It was the most mind-shattering climax he had ever had, and he knew he was fairly exploding inside Linda's pussy. He nearly lost consciousness as the blood pounded in his temples. And then, like the air gushing out of a giant balloon, it was over. The pleasure subsided quickly, the poppers wore off, and Jim was once again reduced to a slave with another man's cock buried in his ass now, and his sperm sloshing around inside him. He felt sick. He couldn't believe he had allowed it to happen. He couldn't believe any of it, that he had let Michael force him to suck his cock, and now fuck him in the ass, and now Brad drilling him a new asshole. He couldn't believe he'd let Michael into his life in the first place, and he cursed himself for bring Brad into their bed. For the first time, he began to believe that his wife, his marriage, wasn't worth it. He cringed as Brad pulled his cock out of his ass. He rose up and pulled his cock out of his wife and stumbled to his feet beside the bed. He saw Brad's still huge and rubbery cock dripping cum.

"Hey, you wanta get that so it don't go to waste?" Michael said, pointing to the big rope of cum hanging out of Brad's cock.

Jim swallowed hard, horrified that in that instant he might actually want to do the man's bidding, but he quickly grabbed up his clothes and turned and left the room--left his wife to Michael and Brad.

"Well, I guess he don't want it, I'll give it to you," he heard Brad say and he glanced over his shoulder to see him straddling Linda's breasts to feed his come-laden cock to her.

"Fuckin' bastards," Jim whispered. "Fuckin' slut!" Hearing the words come out of his own mouth gave him back the courage he had lost somewhere along the way in his quest to be the man Linda wanted him to be. But he knew he could never be that man. He wasn't her husband anymore. He was a toy for them to play with, and as word got around among Brad's little group, he would become a toy to brutally used by them all. Downstairs, he slipped into his clothes and found his truck keys. In the kitchen pantry he took the money that they kept hidden in a coffee can and stuffed it in his pocket. He could feel Michael's and Brad's cum running out of his still-loose ass as he left the house. He didn't look back. And he never would.

The End

(If you liked the story--or if you didn't--please rate it and leave your comments. I would also appreciate hearing from you personally at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com)

Next: Chapter 2


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