My lover, Andy and I are both avid skiers so when we were both offered jobs as ski instructors at a ski lodge in the Berkshires of Massachusetts we jumped at the chance. Though it was seasonal work, we knew we could always get summer jobs to provide us with round-the-year income. The Berkshires are beautiful all four seasons and the thought of living there for a few years, after living in a cramped Manhattan studio apartment for the previous two years had us both in the best of spirits.
We found ourselves a little mountain cabin that we were able to rent with the option to buy. It was in a remote little town (which shall go nameless) where the entire population could have easily fit into the average New York apartment house, but it was a rustic paradise. The people who live there are considered hicks by city folk or as they refer to them flatlanders, but that does not make them stupid. It didn't take them long to figure out that we were a couple. Seems the town constable who had come to greet us as we pulled up in our Uhaul had taken note of its contents, and deducing from the fact that there was only one queen size bed that we slept together.
Of course we didn't learn about that until later, but we did notice that people watched us closely, that men seemed to take care never to be alone with us and that no teenager seemed interested in earning money doing yard work for us. There was no overt hostility in any of their actions, just slight unease mixed with curiosity.
It was late one night in early November, just about 6 weeks after we'd moved in, there was a knock on the kitchen door. We hadn't heard a car engine and we looked at each other in surprise. I went to the door, turning on the outside light as I opened it.
Standing on the stoop was a teenage boy whom I recognized as living in the next house up our dirt road (actually 1/2 mile away).
"Hi, I'm Stan Witzkowski and I'm you're neighbor and I was wondering if I could talk to you?" He'd said it all in a rush using just one breath to get it all out, as if he'd change his mind if he'd gone slower. He was also fidgeting with what Andy would later describe as an advance case of nervous hormones.
I asked him in and pointed the way into the living room. I introduced myself and Andy to him, took the jacket he'd just removed and asked him to have a seat in the rocker next to the fireplace. I joined Andy on the couch opposite after hooking his jacket on the coat rack.
"So Stan," Andy asked, "what brings you knocking on our door at 10:30, are you interested in the yard work we need doing?"
Stan looked confused. "What yard work? No I need to ask you guys a favor, please." He sounded almost mournful and I was beginning to get a little apprehensive.
"You guys are gay, right?"
Andy and I were both stunned and it was I who first managed to say, "what makes you think that?"
"Well I heard my dad tell my mom that Constable Nash said you both had just one bed and that you must sleep together, meaning that you are gay. Everybody knows, they just don't want you forcing sex on the kids, but they all like you because you keep to yourselves."
Andy thought he'd figured out where this was going. "Stan," he queried, "do you think you might be gay and want to ask us for advice?"
It was Stan's turn to be stunned. "No way. I'm totally straight but totally horny. I'm the only kid my age. I used to hang out with some kids who were a little older than me, but now they've gone off either to college or into the service. Now the closest kid to me in age is 5 years younger than me. My parents won't let me drive their cars off the mountain and I'm stuck here. I'm a senior, almost 18 and I'm still a virgin. The only sex I've ever had is with my own hand. It's killin' me, I got to have something else and I thought that maybe you guys might be willing to give me a blow job." He let out a huge sigh and rocked back in the chair. His face was totally flush and with a look of total anxiety.
Andy sat speechless and then I started to laugh. Andy soon joined me. Stan looked as though he might cry. I composed myself quickly to ease his discomfort.
"Stan, relax, we're not laughing at you. It's just the irony of the situation. This is like a gay fantasy, a good looking, horny, straight kid shows up at the door and asks for a blow job. It's too unreal. Listen Stan, while we both think you're a very good looking and nice guy we just can't take that sort of risk. You're not 18, you're body may tell you you're ready to go, but the law says no."
"Paul's, right," Andy chimed in, "we've both been in your shoes and know how hard it can get (we both chuckled at the pun, but it was lost on Stan) but there are some things you just have to wait for and this one of those things. Trust us, when it happens it will have been worth the wait.
We chatted with Stan for about the next hour and then sent him on his way back home. I don't think he was any happier or less horny. I doubted he'd ever visit again, but at least we hadn't risked being arrested or worse.
After he'd gone I looked at Andy and asked, "so what would we have done if he hadn't been under 18?"
"I don't know. What would you have liked to do?"
I avoided a direct answer. "He sure was a hunk. About 5'10". Great shiny, black hair; real pretty face; Wedgwood blue eyes; a humpy ass; and big basket."
"You're such a size queen. So are you saying you'd have like to suck him off?"
"I wouldn't if it upset you," I answered truthfully.
"But, you like to?"
"Well wouldn't you?"
"I asked you first. Yeah, I guess I would, but only if you were there doing it with me."
"You wouldn't mind me sucking him?"
"Not if I was there and participating. I think it would be sexy in the max to see you with a hot, straight dick pumping you in the face."
"Yeah, I guess I could get off seeing you go down on him."
"Well thank God he wasn't 18. No complications."
We went to bed shortly afterward and the ensuing wild sex was certainly motivated by our young night visitor. We also had any number of mutual jerk off sessions inspired by verbal fantasies of the two of us sharing the hunky neighbor kid.
Then late one night, the week between Christmas and New Years, Andy and I were headed home after working night skiing. It was nearly midnight as we began the assent home. We passed a Buick that had obviously skidded into a ditch.
Andy said, "that's Mrs. Witzkowski's car, she must have slid off the road. Hope she's all right. About a mile further up the road, the headlights caught the silhouette of a figure trudging on the side of the road.
I braked the jeep to a halt alongside the dark figure, as Andy unzipped his window. Stan Witzkowski's face peered at us from a tightly drawn hood.
"Need a lift?" Andy asked.
"Do I?"
Andy opened his door and climbed out to allow Stan to get into the back.
"I'm in big trouble," he said after we'd gotten underway again."
"How so?" Andy asked.
"My parents are away at my sister's until after the New Year and I took my mom's car into town without permission and I ran it into a ditch. I'm screwed." Being only 22 I could remember what it was like to screw up big time with your folks, so I was genuinely sympathetic.
"Well maybe we can help you out. At this hour I doubt if anyone else from town has seen your mom's car. You can spend the night in our guest room and at first light we'll come back with the jeep and the wench and see if we can pull it out. As long as there's no damage, maybe your folks will never know."
"You guys would do that for me?"
"Sure, we're not so old that we don't know what you're going through," Andy piped in.
"Gee, and I thought you guys didn't like me."
"Relax," I said we like you.
When we got to the house I showed Andy where the guest room and bathroom were, handed him a set of towels and told him to take a hot shower while I built a warm fire in the fireplace. He'd been chilled to the bone, the temperatures being about -2 with the wind chill factor.
As with most teenagers Stan took his time in the shower and by the time he came out the fire was roaring away.
"It's a good thing we have a big hot water heater or Paul and I would be showering with cold water," Andy teased Stan as he handed the towel clad youth a pair of his own flannel pajamas. "Put these on and go warm yourself by the fire. Paul and I both need to shower."
Andy showered while I did my evening toilet and then we traded placed. We were both dried, groomed and clothed in our flannel pajamas when we walked into the living room. Stan was standing with his back to the fire and his eyes closed. The top of his pajamas remained unbuttoned revealing the firm, well defined chest not of a boy, but a man, a mountain man at that. His tightly toned torso came from outdoor work and activity, no hint of the artificial look of gym workouts. Also as breathtaking was the obvious tent at the crotch of his plaid flannels. The kid was sporting wood, giving every indication that the physical attributes of a man were not limited to his chest. I looked at Andy and he at me. The lust that was churning up in me was also obvious in Andy's green eyes.
I cleared my throat and Stan's eyes opened. He stared at us and we stared at his bulge for a very long moment.
He began to speak in almost a whisper, "I turned 18 on the 19th of this month and I'll never tell a soul."
I looked at Andy and without taking his eyes off Stan he nodded his head. I turned back to Stan and motioned him to follow us up to our loft bedroom. Almost as if it had been scripted Andy and I undressed him as he trembled in anticipation. Once he was naked Andy and I stood back to take in the beauty. He had the still incomplete face of a youth, more pretty than handsome, but with promise of better to come. However, his body was indisputably that of a young and very virile man. Muscles not bulges; strong and sturdy legs; powerful arms; thin waist, broad chest; long neck and amid all this splendor nothing compare with the perfection that extended from between his legs. It stood out a good seven thick inches from the fullest most eatable pair of egg shaped balls I'd ever seen. Perfection is the only adjective that does it justice. It was hard not just to swallow that fucker there and then, but we each sensed the other wanted to go slow and really enjoy the treasure that had come our way. We led him to our notorious queen size bed and laid him on his back in its center. Then with a nod, each of us on either side of him leaned in and each took one of his nipples in our mouths and worked them with our tongues, lips and teeth. Stan began moaning, his skin breaking out head-to-foot in goose bumps.
With instinctive choreography we moved down his body, each on his own side, and tongued his chest, stomach, lower still around his hips, avoiding his groin area, barely brushing past his pubic hair. Down the outside of his legs until we reached his feet. We worked his feet, sucking each toe, licking between them and lapping slowly on his soles until he begged for mercy. We then began our slow upward journey on the sensitive inside of his legs toward our ultimate goal. We had Stan writhing in ecstasy by the time we reached his pulsating pole. It and his balls were gleaming in a fresh coating of boy juice that was spilling out of the slit in his meaty cut head.
I attacked his tight ball sac and the same instant that Andy swallowed his cock to the hilt. Stan's moans turned in shouts of extreme pleasure. "Oh my God, I never thought it could be this good." His enthusiasm only spurred us on. I forced myself away from his balls and repositioned him so that he was on his side. Andy, anticipating what I had in mind, pivoted himself without releasing his prize, so that we would be facing each other. I lay down again with my feet toward the headboard and buried my face in Stan's bubble butt.
I inhaled deeply savoring the mixture of soap with the subtle aroma of male musk. I move up and stared right into Andy's eyes just as he moved on the down stroke, swallowing the entire shaft. I spread Stan's cheeks and dove in driving my tongue as far up his butt as it would go. To shudders of electric like shock went through Stan's body and he began screaming.
"Holy shit I'm gonna blow my load."
With my face securely buried between his luscious cheeks I reached around and cupped his balls. I could feel them churning out their seed. Amazingly above Stan's growling, roaring and yelling I could still discern Andy's contented whimper, something he always does when he's sucking in a hot load.
As soon as Andy was certain he'd taken in the very last drop he move lower on the bed, as did I and between Stan's legs, one of which he still held high in the air, Andy and I kissed. I opened my mouth to him and he fed me half of the hot, thick load he'd milked from our young god. We continued in our kiss until we'd swallowed down every drop of the precious nectar.
Andy and I both sat up on the bed. Andy let down his leg and rolled onto his back. He looked at us in awe. "That was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. It was so much more radical than I could have ever imagine it being. Just thinking about it makes me horny all over again. Would you guys mind if I jerk off? I'm sure I can cum another couple of times."
I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I knew immediately what to do in this situation. I hadn't gotten a taste of this peter so it was an easy solution. "I have a better idea. We can do it again, only this time Andy and I will trade places and then when we're finished we can all have a circle jerk."
Stan thought it the best idea he'd ever heard and if Andy objected he certainly didn't mention it. Stan hadn't even lost his hard on and a minute or two later Andy was tongue fucking his rosebud while I was nursing the head of his dick with my throat muscles. This time it took 20 minutes, damned if the kid didn't pump out as big a load as the first time.
We finished that night's orgy by each of kneeling on the bed over his body and we pumped out our loads onto his stomach just as he deposit his third load in the same place. Cum sluts that we are Andy and I lapped up all the commingled juices before we all dropped off to sleep all content together in our bed.
We managed to get Stan's mom's car out of the ditch and they never did find out. We helped Stan make up for lost time. About once a week until he went away to the Air Force we managed to have a fun couple of hours with him, and then for the next three years, while we lived in the Berkshires Stan would visit whenever he came home on leave.
That was 15 years ago. Andy and I are still together and living back in New York. I'm 37 and Andy's 38. Stan is a totally straight, happily married man for the past 10 years, with two kids. He lives out on Long Island. Whenever he gets into the City alone he always comes over to our place and we give him what he calls the "world's best oral."