Living It With Dylan - Chapter 3 free porn video

Friday

Scott had the movie ready by the time I got home. I didn’t have to work, so I was home from class by four and Scott and I waited awkwardly for Dylan to get home from his last study group.

“It’s amazing,” Scott said. “You’re gonna love it. You look like a total stud, I’m telling you.”

“Cool,” I said, but the whole thing made me feel kind of embarrassed. I’d fucked in front of another guy before, but there’d never been evidence, afterward, and the idea of horny Scott sitting at his computer editing close ups of my dick made me feel weird, to put it mildly. I had never had much to say to the guy, anyway, and now it felt twice as strained between us.

Finally, I heard Dylan’s bike pull up. “He’s here!” Scott sang, meeting Dylan at the door with the flash drive in his hand.

“That it?” Dylan smiled, looking much more relaxed about the whole thing than I felt. “Should we eat dinner first?” He’d brought burgers, and I tried not to wolf the food down, but it seemed like we all ate pretty fast and before I knew it, Dyl was clearing the table and saying, “Alright, man. Let’s see this cinematic opus of yours.”

“It’s outstanding, if I do say so myself,” Scott grinned, setting up the laptop in the middle of the kitchen table.

It was amateur, for sure, but Scott was right; it was incredible. It was, I think, maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, because it was every good part of our fuck session minus all the un-sexy details, like when I farted or when Dyl had to stop for a minute to take a piss break. The clumsiness when we developed cramps or when we switched positions was all edited out, and our different angles blended beautifully into one another. Also, we looked fantastic. I looked much more muscular than I really am, and my dick looked gigantic. Dylan looked like a Greek god on film, and his cock looked bigger, too, than it did in real life. We’re pretty fit, so when we bang there’s not a lot of fat jiggling or anything, but Scott had captured close ups of my cock penetrating Dylan, my balls slapping at him with every thrust, and he captured the cum shots, too, masterfully. I was so turned on my hands were shaking before the thing was halfway through, but I sat on them and tried to stay cool.

“What’d you think?” he asked, when it was over. “I did a great job of editing it, yeah? It’s sort of my masterpiece.”

“You rock,” I said, but I felt lightheaded and breathless and my dick was so hard it hurt.

“You rock,” Dylan said, and when I looked over at him he was staring at my crotch. “Rock,” he repeated, and then he looked up at me and that’s all it took.

“I’m turning in,” I said quickly, getting up fast and heading to Dyl’s room, and he added, “I’m tired too,” scrambling after me.

“Hey, wait,” Scott complained. “Are you guys gonna go mess around?”

I locked the door quickly behind Dyl’s back, and he was already unbuckling my jeans, already kissing my mouth desperately. “Are you guys gonna fuck?” Scott was whining from the other side of the door, banging on it with his fist.

“You’re goddamn right we are,” Dylan replied, yanking off his jeans. “Go away, Scott.”

It was ridiculously intense. Instead of foreplay, we used lube, and I entered Dyl with urgency, hardly able to hold off long enough to come inside him. He fucked my ass next, also using lube instead of patience, and he had an almost identical experience. Five minutes later, we’d both just ejaculated, but we were both still hard, our insatiable dicks wanting more, more, more!

“Come on, guys,” Scott still begged, pounding on the wall. “Let me in there with you.”

“Ignore him,” Dylan panted, and I sucked him hard until he almost came again. “I need to fuck you more,” he mumbled, both of us lost the eroticism of the whole evening.

“I need to fuck someone,” Scott pounded on our door.

“Go away!” Dylan yelled at him, licking at the end of my long cock while he plowed into me hard and jerked my hard-on with the hand he wasn’t using to hold me against him. I exploded again soon, feeling my ass thumping on his cock right in time with the flexing spasms of my ejaculation. I blew him, then, using my mouth and both hands to bring him to a big orgasm that made him yell my name, but we couldn’t sleep, even then, still couldn’t relax. Our dicks were spent and soft, but we weren’t satisfied and by two in the morning we were on each other again, rutting like dogs, spanking and licking and thrusting like our lives somehow depended on it, barking periodically at Scott to leave us alone, to stop pounding on the door or the wall. Dylan wept when he came, some weird misery overtaking his brain instead of the happy chemicals a good blast usually washed him in, and my orgasm was physically painful, stabbing cramps in my lower abdomen and scrotum accompanying the ejaculation, but finally we were satiated and could be done.

“Dammit,” Dylan cursed. “That was wonderfully awful, eh?”

“We must never watch it again,” I said, my voice intentionally monotone to make Dylan laugh.

“I agree,” he replied in the same voice. “It is toxic to our systems.”

“At least we have each other,” I sighed. “I feel kind of sorry for Scott.”

“Don’t start,” he warned. “Give that guy an inch…”

“You mean ten?” I teased, “You mean my big ten inches?”

He laughed, pulling me to him, “Oh honey,” he muttered, “You know it’s not ten inches, right?”

“Not right now,” I laughed, looking at my poor dick. It was so exhausted, it was practically crawling up inside itself.

“This is too hard on us, bro,” Dylan said. “Seriously, no more of that movie.”

“You’re a porn star,” I stroked his chest. “My lover is a porn star.”

“Mine too,” he smiled, and when he kissed me goodnight it was so sweet, so loving, that I wrapped myself all around him and when we woke up in the morning, I was still holding him like that, as close as humanly possible.

Saturday

I got home from work right behind Dylan; I could tell because his motorcycle was still hot when I parked mine next to it, the fan still ticking and the pipes still emanating waves of warmth. When I opened our door, Dyl was standing in the foyer staring out into the living room, where Scott lay naked on the couch, masturbating.

Our tape was playing and I heard it end, heard Dylan’s recorded voice say, “Turn it off now, bro. It’s over” but Scotty slapped at the keyboard and the film started again, with my voice saying, “Hey man,” He didn’t even look at us while he furiously beat off, but he grunted and moaned as semen spit out of him in wet spurts onto our coffee table and onto his computer screen and keyboard.

“Quite the show,” I muttered quietly to Dylan. “Maybe we should just fuck the poor thing.”

“Hi guys,” Scotty waved at us from the couch, wiping at his laptop with tissues from the box on the end table. “How was work or school, or whatever?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dylan scolded. “You’re like some weird perv.”

“What’d you expect me to do with it?” Scott smiled, not bothered by Dyl’s insult. “Why do you think I wanted to make the thing?”

“Delete it,” Dylan ordered, and that bummed his friend out, big time.

“Seriously, bro?” Scott’s voice sounded high and small. “C’mon, man.”

“Delete it,” Dylan demanded again, firmly, and I could have sworn I saw Scott’s lip quiver, like maybe the thought of losing that tidbit of porn made him almost cry.

“Fine,” he said, getting mad. “Who needs you two queers, anyway.” He slammed the laptop closed, but Dylan was over by him and picked it up before Scott was able to get a good hold on it. Dyl opened it, angrily hit some keys, and yanked out the flash drive while Scott pouted sullenly on the couch. “Fine,” Scott repeated, when Dylan handed him back his computer. “Faggot.”

“You better shut up now,” Dylan threatened, and his tone snapped Scott out of his snit because it probably occurred to him Dylan could totally kick his ass.

“I loved it,” Scott tried, changing his whole demeanor like little kids do when they’re pleading for a toy. “I loved imagining I was with you guys.”

“We get that,” Dyl snapped. “We’ve listened to this shit all week. When you gonna drop it?”

“When you guys introduce me to the wondrous world of boy-on-boy,” Scott smiled, “on-boy.” He was trying to look sweet and it worked, apparently, because that made Dylan chuckle.

“We did, bro,” Dyl reminded him. “We performed for you, right up close and personal. I wouldn’t do that for anybody but you, you know.”

“I know, dude,” Scott nodded. “But all it did was make me want it more.”

“Why don’t you go have your own experiences?” Dylan argued. The tension was gone, so I hung up my helmet in the hall and walked the rest of the way into the apartment, but I could still hear the conversation as I headed into the kitchen to start dinner. “How ‘bout we take you to some clubs or something, and introduce you around?”

“I don’t even know if I’m gay,” Scotty reasoned. “I just want to try it with you guys, you know? It’s not like I look at other guys and get hard. Just you.”

“Just me?” Dylan asked, and he and I shared a look even though I was all the way in the kitchen and bent over at the refrigerator.

“I meant you like both of you,” he corrected. “I’m not trying to break you guys up, bro, but I can’t help it you guys make me so hot.”

Sunday

We took Scott out for dinner but he insisted on no place fancy, since we’d been cooking for him all week and also taking him out most nights for expensive steaks or seafood. We ended up heading to the greasy spoon where I wait tables because the food there, believe it or not, is outstanding.

“It’s the best kept secret in town,” Dylan smiled. I think even if I’d drop out of school to be a full-time waiter, Dylan’d still find a way to feel proud of me. Scott was looking around uncomfortably because the place was a little shabby and not the cleanest, certainly, which all the loyal patrons (mostly truckers) had all learned to overlook. “Just try it,” Dyl sighed, sounding somewhat irritated.

“That’s what I keep saying to you guys,” Scott was on it again. “Why can’t we just try it?”

“Ay, yi, yi, you’re a broken record,” Dyl rolled his eyes. “We’ve tried it, alright?” he said. “I told you, man. We’ve done three-ways.”

“I haven’t tried it, though, bro,” Scott explained, yet again. “It’s not fair to let me watch you and let me film you, and then not let me in on it. Can’t you let me try it in a safe environment, you know, with guys who give a crap about me?”

I was sitting on the same side of the booth as Scotty, and I saw Dylan slip me a look, quick like a blink. He was intrigued after all. I moved a little closer to Scott, who was looking at me imploringly, because apparently he thought I was the one who had to be convinced, even though I didn’t care, really, either way. “I could come right now,” Scott sounded like he was begging. ‘I’m that hard. Seriously,” he said, indicated his crotch under the table, and I reached over and moved my hand on it.

“He’s not lying,” I reported to Dylan, who smiled a big white smile and suggested, “Why don’t you put that guy out of his misery.”

“What’s that mean?” Scott asked, by I was already unzipping his khaki’s and getting my hand in there. He wore those tight boxer briefs and there was a wet spot on the fabric.

“Got some moisture,” I told Dyl, who leaned his head against the side of the booth, relaxing, and said, “Yeah?” My hand was under the material, then, and Scott’s dick was in my hand.

“Un-cut,” I announced, but Dylan shrugged because he already knew that, and he nonchalantly waved away our waitress because no one at our table was thinking about refills right then. “Bigger than yours,” I mentioned, and Dylan made an interested face.

“Is he now?” he smiled. “ I didn’t notice that.”

“It’s challenging to get a good look at him when his hands are on it,” I explained, “and, as you know, his hands are always on it. It’s smaller than mine, though,” I added and Dyl pretended to make a frowny face even though that wasn’t news to him, either. “He’s right in between us.”

“That’s right where he wants to be,” Dylan chuckled.

Scott was red-faced and panting, his eyes glued to his pecker in my hand. “Isn’t that right?” Dylan repeated. “You want your cock to be right in between my cock and his, don’t you?” I was stroking his nice dick this whole time, of course, and smearing his slimy precum all around on his cockhead, and I felt it flex when Dylan said that, so I nodded at Dyl to go beneath the table and finish the guy off, but Dyl shook his head.

I nodded at him again, even muttered, “C’mon, bro,” moving my head to indicate the guys raging hardon, but that time Dylan accompanied his head shake with an incredulous expression.

“I’m not going under there,” he laughed. “No way,” and I was like, “Come on, dude,” and he laughed even more. “It’s filthy down there,” he protested. “You do it.”

I didn’t want to get down there, either, because I knew first hand how disgusting the floors were under the tables at this diner, so I wet my hand, instead, licking it in a sexy way instead of hockering into my palm ala Brokeback Mountain, and almost the moment my slippery palm grasped Scott’s dick it exploded. He whimpered a little because we were in public and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but cum spattered his face and throat and the neck of his shirt and kept oozing, even after that, out onto my hand.

I laughed, then, and so did Scott, but his was a breathless, nervous laugh because he didn’t understand what Dyl and I were up to. I flicked some of the jiz off his cheek and reached across the table to Dylan, who licked it hungrily off my finger. I swiped another gob off his throat and ate that myself before explaining it all to Scott, who gaped at us, open-mouthed. “We’re in,” I told him. “It’s on.”

“So was that like an audition?” asked Scott, whose eyes remained large, even during the cab ride home. “Did I pass some sort of test?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dylan scoffed from the front seat. “Jesus. What do you think we are?”

“I think you’re guys who fuck guys,” Scott replied. “And the more I think about that, the more awesome it sounds.”

“Oh just you wait,” Dylan grinned, and when the driver rolled his eyes, Dylan smiled even wider. “Don’t knock it until you try it, dude,” he said, then turned back toward the front of the car.

The conversation wasn’t over in the back seat, though, and Scotty peppered me with questions all the way home. “Why’d you make me cream if we’re gonna do it later?” “Am I gonna sleep in with you guys tonight, then?” Who’s gonna come in who?” “Do you guys work that out ahead of time or what?”

In fact, Dylan and I did work that out while Scott was in the shower. “You care if I come in him?” Dylan asked, then he looked embarrassed. “Or in you. I just want some ass, I guess.”

“No, that’s fine with me,” I laughed, because even though I didn’t feel threatened by Scott, I appreciated that Dylan worried I might get jealous.

“Why don’t we both?” Dylan suggested. “You love swimming in my load.”

“I do love that,” I admitted, and I felt my cock swell some just at the suggestion.

“What about him, then?” Dylan worried, and I knew what he wanted to hear and said it for him, gave him the permission he was seeking.

“Let him come in you,” I smiled, “if he makes it that far.” Dylan kissed me with unbelievable tenderness right then, and it should have reassured me even more, should have further convinced me I didn’t need to worry at all, but there was something that turned inside of me, right then, and it suddenly occurred to me that this could be big trouble for us. This could be the beginning of the end of us.

I closed my eyes tightly, and brought him in close for a deeper kiss, a more passionate one, and he kissed me back and nuzzled my neck, amorously, whispering into my skin, “Don’t worry, dude. It’s you I love.”

For some ridiculous reason, I felt myself blinking back tears. “I love you, too,” I answered. “It’s just I want us to stay exactly the same as we are.”

“We don’t need to fear change,” Dylan laughed, holding me, stroking the back of my head in his loving way, and that statement, honestly, scared the shit out of me.

We all showered, with Dylan going in last. I lay on the couch in my robe, relaxing and, to be honest, enjoying the intense waves of discomfort emanating from Scott. He was practically a nervous wreck and a nicer guy would’ve felt bad about that, but I admit I took pleasure in his anxiety, albeit guiltily. He was wearing Dylan’s robe and was far to tense to talk, so he just sat in the armchair tapping his foot while I lazily scrolled trough Reddit on my laptop.

“Hey check this out,” I said, indicating with my head that he ought to join me on the couch, and the moment he sat down next to me I brought up the movie he’d made of Dylan and me. “This is what I’m gonna do to you,” I said, pointing at the screen, where I was pounding Dylan’s ass like a goddamn jackhammer. “You ready for that?”

“Don’t let him scare you,” Dylan walked in, splendorous in his nakedness. His body was perfect, honestly, with a rippled torso like on the front of Romance novels, and his eyes were sparkling because he was excited about what we were about to do. “We won’t hurt you,” he said, holding out his hand to help Scott up.

Scott stood, and Dylan slowly opened the robe, letting it fall to the floor as he knelt in front of Scott and took the guy’s big boner into his mouth. “Oh,” Scotty moaned, and I knew just what he meant because that mouth is incredible. He held Dyl’s head, watching him work for a while, but said, “I can’t take too much of this, you know,” and Dylan smiled, pushing Scotty back down onto the couch.

That was my cue, so I pushed the coffee table out some and got on all fours in front of Scott, pushing his legs up and making him rest his feet on my shoulders, then I went down on that guy’s ass, licking and sucking and poking my tongue deep into his thrilled anus, while Dylan did the same to mine from behind me. Everything Dylan did to me, I did to Scott, and it was obvious no one had ever kissed the guy there because it made him come and no one was even touching his dick.

“Oh God,” Scott moaned, and abruptly ejaculated all over himself. He was worried about it, of course, and looking all sheepish because guys think everybody gives a shit how long you last, but Dylan and I couldn’t care less about the clock and it was okay with us that he came, especially since we knew he’d be orgasming a lot more before we were all finished. “Oh God,” Scott repeated, and I just went with it, grabbing his shaft and moving my hand on it for him while spunk gooped out in wet pulses, then I ran my hands all over him, pushing his own sperm into his asshole with gentle fingers.

Dylan meanwhile, was teasing me like crazy, rubbing his hard-on in my crack and pushing at my hole with his erection, and I leaned back on him, hard, to entice him right back and he pushed that glorious hard-on into me. We both stayed still a moment, then, and I moaned because the initial pain signaled such pleasure to my entire system and I loved this part. We spent a few moments reveling in our connection, Dylan pushing in farther, then still deeper, while Scott panted at us from the couch, his hand on his stiffening dick.

I wasn’t done with my mouth, either, and while Dylan moved deep in me slowly, I gave that guy the rim job of his life. By the time I was pressing three of my fingers against that special spot up inside him, he was fully recovered and was certainly ready for a good banging.

“Dylan’s gonna fuck you now,” I told him, when Dylan pulled out of me and bent his face into me for a moment, making me groan again as he licked and sucked at that hole he’d just left, moving his hand on my dick like he hated to leave me. “What do you think of that?”

“I want that,” Scott said, but we made him want it more and say it more.

“You want that cock in you?” I asked, kneeling in front of Dylan and sucking him, pressing my finger into his ass and also gently massaging his balls because I knew exactly how Dylan liked it and it made my guy groan and thrust at me, and fuck my face some, even, before he pulled out and moved Scott into the position he wanted him in. He laid the guy on the coffee table and knelt between his legs, and I was a little sorry it was face-to-face like that, but since it was the guy’s first time I understood Dylan’s choice, I guess.

“Do you?” Dylan asked again. “Do you want this?” and Scott whispered that he did, yeah, and Dylan spread those wet ass cheeks wide and went in. With me, he’s always gentle until I adjust to anal, but he was rough right away with Scott, shoving his cock all the way into the guy with just three hard thrusts, and Scott’s eyes filled with tears because I’m sure it hurt like hell. “You like that?” Dylan asked, and it wasn’t really a question so much as an order, and Scott nodded at him, silently, his mouth moving like he wanted to say words that simply wouldn’t form.

He fucked him mercilessly, and it was hot to witness even though there was no warmth to it at all. I knelt behind Dyl with my arms around him, rolling his nipples in my fingers and moving my hands around those tight abs of his or holding his solid glutes in my hand while he slammed Scott hard. Scott took it like a champ from the very start, but the experience transformed him, and in the space of maybe five minutes Scott went from just tolerating that pounding to needing it. “You like that?” Dylan kept asking, and eventually Scott replied robustly, hollering it even, that he loved it, that he loved being drilled in the ass by that cock. “Yeah, fuck me!” he begged. “Come in me!” and I knew that’d really get to Dylan. That turned him way on, getting begged for his cum like that.

“You want this big nut?” Dyl demanded, and Scott’s head moved back and forth while he moaned and answered oh yeah, oh yeah he wanted it. Dyl stepped it up, then, from a drilling to an absolute beating, and it was challenging for me not to blow it, myself, while I watched him detonate inside Scott. He threw his head back in that sexy gesture of ecstasy, and Scott jerked his dick furiously, watching Dylan every bit as intensely as I was as the man threw his hips into Scott’s ass and delivered his moaning hot load. “Uh!” Dylan grunted, and Scott yelled “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!” until Dyl pulled out, jiz spraying some when the head popped out wetly.

“Oh my God!” Scott groaned. “I love this! I love this I’m telling you.”

“Good,” Dylan sounded almost angry. “’Cause you’re gonna get the big gun, now.”

It was time for me to enter Scott, and I turned him over roughly, because I wanted to keep up the intensity but I had no desire to look at his face. He pushed his butt up at me, hungry for more, and Dylan’s cum still smeared his cheeks. I held him open for a moment and bent down to give him a few quick licks, which made Scott beg, “Please fuck me now. Fuck me!” and made Dylan smile because he knew I was eating his load. He sat on the couch to have Scott suck him while I fucked the guy, but he soon found out what I already knew, which was that Scott possessed zero oral skills, for real, and Dyl ended up just stroking himself while he watched us, which turned me on, no end.

The ass turned me on, too, even though it was Scott’s. It was wet and juicy and tight, and I forced my big dick in there without worrying too much about Scott’s feelings, just like Dylan had. “How you like that?” I asked, making him pant and tell me he loved it, even though I’m sure it was plenty uncomfortable for the first few thrusts while I violated that virginal sphincter just as powerfully as Dylan had, and with a much larger weapon, too. It wasn’t too long into it before I felt his ass constrict and I knew what was happening before Scott knew it, himself, but then I heard him mutter, even though his face was kind of in the couch cushions, that he was about to come. Dyl went for it that time, slipping down beneath Scott to help out and to swallow some of his cum, too, but Dylan brought some of it up in his hand and wiped in all over my dick and that hairy pucker of Scott’s. That pulsing grip of Scotty’s ass combined with that view of my cock all striped with semen was too erotic for me and I came, too, ejaculating deep inside, first, and then drawing my dick out for the rest and spraying his anus with surge after surge of semen, and Scott was crying, then, because he was so overwhelmed by the sensations he was experiencing.

I ignored the weeping Scott and dove straight into Dylan’s ass with my face, and he and I stayed connected like that on the floor for a long time, my arms wrapped around his thighs and my entire face buried in his crease. He eventually moved up to the coffee table and I went down on him voraciously, probing his ass while I sucked his cock and did his balls with the other wet hand, and he was rock solid in my mouth just how I loved it and he was begging for my cock - my cock – not Scott’s – and I was firmed up again, too, so I gave him what he was moaning for as he crawled onto my lap in the chair and mounted me, taking my whole cock deep right away and then just staying on me, still.

He drew toward me in every way, his muscles grinding against me as he tried to force my thick dick even deeper. His neck was at my face and his arms wrapped all around my head, his big biceps blocking the light. He smelled amazing, like how fuck should smell, and I embraced him, too, bringing him even closer so we were touching as much as possible of one another.

“God that’s hot,” I heard Scott say, and he was standing next to us, jerking his still flaccid penis.

“Want my cum?” Dyl whispered, and I shook my head.

“Always,” I answered, “but this is your one chance with your boy.”

“You’ll fuck me every day,” Dylan promised, and I laughed.

“I will,” I swore, “no matter what.” I gasped, then, because I was about to explode again. My testicles were on fire and when I moved in him my thrusts were automatic, like reflexes, and I lifted us both off that armchair as I smashed into my guy and spewed my cum all in him. It made him moan and grip his dick roughly to prevent the imminent orgasm that was sweeping through his body in waves. His ass pounded me with rhythmic throbs, milking my rod of every last drop as his muscles convulsed on me, squeezing me and making me cry out from the pleasure. His hard cock pumped in his fist, but the release was in his ass more than from his balls, and so despite the intensity of the orgasm, Dyl didn’t ejaculate.

“Oh God I love you,” he grunted, and we kept slamming each other for quite a while before we tired out and finally, exhausted, I lifted him off me and laid him down on the coffee table, motioning for Scott, who was erect again, to take it away.

“I can see your spunk in there,” he commented, examining Dyl’s ass just like I had his. “That’s fucking hot.”

“I know it,” I nodded, then grew suddenly instructive. “Go in easy,” I warned. “A little at a time.” He looked perplexed, probably because we hadn’t done that for him, but he followed my instructions obediently. “Wait until he gets used to you,” I explained, like Dylan wasn’t able to talk or something. “Hold there until you feel his body loosen, that way it doesn’t hurt him.”

“How’m I doing?” Scott asked, looking at me apprehensively. It didn’t occur to him, apparently, to ask Dylan.

“How’s he doing?” I asked Dyl, who replied by stopping to turn over and prop his elbows on the coffee table. I wondered if maybe he was tired of Scotty’s face, too.

“Get behind me,” he instructed Scott, who obediently moved over and then went through the whole process of gently entering Dyl again. “You’re doing great,” Dylan smiled up at me, and I leaned down to kiss him, affectionately. I lay back awkwardly, but I didn’t even care that I was uncomfortable, to take Dylan’s hot hardon in my mouth, but first I issued my last instruction to Scott, which was, “Okay, dude, now tear that ass up.”

Monday

“Surely that ending made some kind of ménage a trios history,” Dylan mused. We were in his bed, alone again, but we were enjoying discussing about how it’d gone with Scott. For a novice, he’d done a pretty fine job of banging Dylan, who’d erupted directly into my mouth about three minutes in, creaming so copiously it’d choked me some as I tried to swallow his hot spurts. That whole episode had made Scott come, ejaculating impressively for a guy who’d already orgasmed a lot, and feeling Dyl’s ass clamp down on him under my hand and then watching that wet cock throb into Dylan had actually made me hard again even though my wad was shot as could be. Thinking about it made me hard, too, and talking about it made me ready to re-enact the whole thing with Dylan. He was wanting the same thing, apparently, because he leaned over and took my swelling cock into his luscious mouth.

“I can’t imagine going back to women,” Scott had said to us Monday morning before we packed him into a cab bound for his new address, and we were certainly guys who understood that. “Keep me in mind,” he waved out the window. “Call me, boys.”

“Will we call him?” I asked, looking at Dylan curiously, but I couldn’t read his face with my big dick in his mouth.

“Who knows?” he laughed. “It was spicy as hell, certainly, but you were my favorite part.”

“You were my favorite part, too,” I replied, stroking his hair and hoping, hoping, hoping, Dylan meant that as sincerely as I did.