Doubled Date

"I'm going to come!"

"If you can hold it just a bit more, I can come too," Kevin hissed.

And then we managed to come close to each other. We were lying on our backs side by side on Kevin's double bed in his apartment at U. Delaware. His place was preferable to my dorm because his bed was wider than mine and his apartment was more private than my dorm suite was. I was a freshman and he a senior. So, I had to be in the dorms; he had a studio apartment off campus.

This was the third time we'd met to jack off together. That's all we'd done so far, and even that was limited. We lay side by side, kissing and pulling on each other's cocks, but for the grand finale, we'd both be jacking ourselves.

It's not that I wasn't open to more—or hadn't had more before. I'd gotten into U. Delaware on a sports scholarship partly because of the relationship I'd had with my high school tennis coach in the previous year. It had been pretty intense there for a couple of months into the middle of the summer and then we both went our own ways—mine was a two-week fling with a construction worker. His was his wife reining him in more closely.

Kevin had gone to my high school—and had once been the same thing to my coach as I later was. When we first met at the tennis team practices at U.D. and he'd heard where I came from, he knew what I was interested in—and what I would do. We hit it off together and got real comfortable with each other.

The only problem was that we wanted pretty much the same thing from sex. We were both bottoms. So, here we were, making do. Maybe we'd progress to mutual blow jobs, but maybe not. It all seemed a bit incomplete.

After we'd come, I lay my head on his chest and we just settled in to cooling down and doing some fondling work with our hands.

"That released some tension," Kevin murmured. "I hope it did you good too, Nathan."

"Pretty good," I answered. And that's what it was—pretty good. Not great; just pretty good. Maybe if I hadn't had better before, I'd be more satisfied with it. But there was a lot of tension in trying to keep the grades up in my freshman year while we were in tennis competitions that spring and this at least gave me some release and relief, just as Kevin claimed it did him.

"Are you getting any otherwise?" Kevin asked. "I know it helps to blow off steam."

"Not really. Little time and opportunity," I answered. "And you?"

"Yeah, I got a guy in Wilmington who takes me all the way. He's in banking. Older guy, just past thirty. If it weren't for him, I'd be a wreck."

"It all helps, man," I said. I didn't want Kevin to think that I didn't appreciate these sessions.

* * * *

"How do you feel about blind dates?" Kevin had called me on the cell phone as I was moving from my English class to chemistry.

"Haven't ever had one."

"An old friend of Jack's is in town. We had a date, but this old friend showed up. I really need to have this date. He said that if I could find a friend for his friend—"

"Jack?"

"Yeah, the banker from Wilmington I told you about."

"Sure, why not?" I said. Bankers made good money, I thought. Beat me, though, what I was supposed to do with this friend while Kevin's boyfriend was giving him the relief he sounded over the phone like he needed. But I guess I'd find out. Kevin had said they'd spring for some sort of activity and dinner, so it couldn't be a total loss.

His name was Ed, and he wasn't a banker. Whereas Kevin's guy, Jack, had gone the professional route—and looked it, all expensively dressed, groomed, and gymed, a blond god type—Ed hadn't gone to college. He was a construction worker. He was dressed clean enough, but really casual, and he was wearing construction boots. They weren't muddy or anything, but All-American he wasn't. He was at least part Latino. Dark and sultry, to be sure, and all muscle. But, whereas Jack was a glib talker, Ed was the glowering silent type. I had no idea how these two guys had gotten together other than the old adage of opposites attracting.

But they were paying, and it was a Saturday, with all my week's classes done and a bye week in our tennis schedule. I needed the break of something else to do.

What I was finding at the beginning of this blind date, though, was mainly frustration. I found that I wanted to be dating Kevin's guy, Jack, rather than the morose and uncommunicative Ed.

As a foursome we worked out OK as we attended a Blue Rocks minor league baseball game at a small stadium on the Christiana River front on the north edge of downtown Wilmington, because Kevin and Jack dominated and made the conversation interesting. Likewise dinner at a sports bar restaurant on 202 off I-95 west of the city went OK, as well. This, if you discounted that Kevin and Jack, sitting across from me, were all hands and stolen kisses, and Ed, sitting next to me, was all his steak and potatoes. He didn't react to me laying a hand on his thigh, so I withdrew it and didn't go there again.

At Club X on Orange Street afterward, Kevin, Jack, and I went to the dance floor and flirted with the pole dancers who had come down from Philly for Saturday night, while Ed protected our table by holding it down and leaving it only for the men's room between beers.

He did give me looks every once in a while that established domination and I lowered my eyes for him to show submission, but I had no idea where this was going to lead. I certainly knew that Kevin and Jack were headed for a fuck session. They had hands all over each other all evening and were cooing. Jack was a real hunk, and I envied Kevin. And I guess that was the main feeling I was gathering from this blind double date—envy and a bit of frustration. Ed was a hunk too, but I worried on whether he'd been roped into this double date and wanted to be somewhere else altogether. The only moments of animation I saw in him was when he was talking with Jack—who would bring out the interest in anyone. I had fleeting moments of wonder if Ed even was a top, or whether he was here for interest in Jack. That would be a real bummer, I thought.

For a moment or two I had versions of the three of them, Jack taking care of both Kevin and Ed, and me sitting off to the side, unnoticed and unfucked.

And then that thought was laid to rest, at least, when Ed, who was driving Jack's car, because Jack wanted to be in the backseat with Kevin, drove us into a park and off the main drive onto a gravel side drive that led to privacy among enveloping trees.

Ed and I sat there at the opposite ends of the front seat for several minutes of awkwardness as Jack and Kevin went directly into a lap fuck in the backseat. Kevin was obviously vocal about the work of Jack's cock in his passage, which, at last, seemed to get through to Ed and arouse him. He reached over and cupped the back of my neck in a hand and pulled me to him. I thought that we were going into a kiss, but the pull continued past his face, down into his lap, where I found his dick had been freed from his fly. He was hard, and I remember marveling at how he'd managed to get hard as much of an iceberg as he had been.

It was a very nice cock, I knew what to do, and I had no better prospect at the moment, although I was aching to be in the backseat and getting what Kevin was getting. So I opened my mouth over his cock and gave him what I thought was a perfectly good blow job.

If there was going to be more from Ed, that was cut off by Jack being finished with Kevin in the backseat and suggesting to Ed that he drive him and Kevin to Kevin's apartment and me to my dorm and then Ed could pick Jack up at Kevin's apartment.

Ed was enough of a gentleman to hand me his handkerchief to clean his cum off my face before, without looking directly at me again, putting the car in gear and driving out of the park.

* * * *

Everything changed when we got to my dorm. I opened the passenger door to get out, not saying anything to Ed because I assumed we were finished and I was tired of trying to make talk—suggestive or otherwise—with him, only to find him standing by the car and closing the door after I'd stepped out. He put his arm around me—which is closer than he'd gotten all day to me—and bear hugged me up the walk and into the dorm and up the stairs to my floor.

"Umm, thanks, I can take it from here," I said. "It was a nice—"

"I'm coming in. Which room is yours? Jack said you had the room to yourself."

He fucked me on my bed, taking me hard, and with little preparation. All he seemed to care about was that he was hard and was going to get his rocks off; it mattered little to him whether I was ready for him or not. As long as enough lube could be applied for him to get inside me, he seemed satisfied. He kept muttering, "Open to me. Open it up, dammit."

He didn't just want to get some of it inside me. He wanted to bottom in me, and he wasn't built small, by any means. I screwed up my eyes and took it, though, because I wanted to get fucked bad.

All the time I was doing my best to take him inside me. I did want him inside me. I wanted someone inside me bad, and he was the one who was here. He was reasonably good looking, young enough to be vigorous and have stamina, and hard bodied. I was aching to be fucked, and, once he'd gotten all of his cock inside me, he was doing a good job in that department.

Ed was straightforward and efficient. He took me in a missionary position, with a pillow under my waist, my legs spread and bent, and his weight pinning me to the bed as he lay between my legs. He held my head between his hands, his thumbs pressing up into the soft tissue under my jaw, arching my head up so that I was looking up at the ceiling as he pumped my ass hard. I understood, as I'm sure he wanted me to, that he could render me unconscious with those thumbs if I gave him the slightest resistance.

I didn't give him any resistance. It had been some seven months since I'd had a man's cock inside me, and I came for Ed without the least trouble. But he fucked on for maybe fifteen more minutes before he got his rocks off. He was all cold efficiency, no affection whatsoever. But he also was hard and filling, long lasting and vigorous. It wasn't heaven, but it was far enough into the clouds to be registered as a "good thing." And I came a second time before he finished. I didn't come big like I did the first time, but he was the first one I'd come twice with before he came once. Of course it had been seven months and I needed it bad.

My "date" filled the bulb of his condom with a grunt; rolled off me, stripping the rubber off in the process and tossing it in the trashcan by my desk; and was pulling on his jeans in one fluid movement. "Nice tight ass," he said, the closest to a compliment I knew I was going to get from him, and then, "I'm taking a piss; stay there. I'm not done yet."

Well, OK, that was more of a compliment. He went out of the door to my dorm room to the communal bathroom across the hallway, and I lay there, fingering my ass. I was going to be fucked again. This was my lucky day.

He was gone for several minutes—long enough for me to worry whether or not he had encountered one of my suitemates in the head and was doing him. As coldly as he had fucked me, he had gotten my hopes up that he'd spike me again when he came back. He was better than nothing—a whole hell of a lot better.

He was unzipping his jeans as he came into the room. "You're going to ride me now," he growled. He was half erect again and flopped down on the bed on his back as I sat up. I leaned over, took him in my mouth, made him erect again, rolled another condom on him at his direction, and then straddled his hips, and descended on his erection. Without so much as a "thank-you," he grabbed my waist, helped me rise and fall on the cock, and added his grunts to my groans, as my half-hard cock slapped against his belly.

I was concentrating so much on having a good time, hardening up, and getting another ejaculation out of this that I didn't notice the other guy come into the room immediately. When I did, I didn't have any trouble hardening up at all. Jack was there, in all his magnificent glory, the glory intensifying as he stripped and I saw that he was horse hung—and in erection.

He came up on the bed behind me and between Ed's legs. Ed didn't seem the bit surprised that he was there. I nearly hyperventilated as Jack cupped my biceps in his hands, leaned in and kissed me on the back of the neck, and whispered, "Have you ever been doubled before? I want to share you with Ed. We like to share our men."

No I hadn't, and I had no idea if I could manage it or not. The tennis coach was hung and he liked to put three fingers in there, slide in between them, and leave them there while he stroked me, so . . . but it didn't matter. I'd been aching for Jack all day. "Fuck me. Fuck me," I murmured in an acquiescence that didn't answer the question.

But I didn't care and he didn't ask again.

The pain was excruciating at first, and I wanted to scream out for them to stop. But Jack was possessing my lips with his and his kiss was so sweet and possessing that I never wanted it to stop or be interrupted by the issue that I wasn't really built to have two cocks in me at once. But then I started to adjust to them—and continued to adjust to them—to the point where the pleasure of the mere idea of what they were doing and what I was taking washed over me, and we became a three-piece fucking machine—all grunts and groans and sighs and moans, and, eventually, ejaculations.

I lay there, my chest on Ed's chest, Jack's chest on my back, panting when we all had come. Both of them were still inside me, but going flaccid, so the challenge of taking them both was passed. Ed was stoic and remote as before, but Jack was all affection, kissing and fondling me and whispering the language of the satisfactorily completed fuck in my ear.

I could have stayed like that forever, but it, naturally, was Ed who broke the spell, by grunting and rolling out from beneath me, leaving the bed, making another condom deposit in the trash can, and pulling on his jeans and his shirt as he stood by the bed.

Jack remained on top of me, covering me from above at full stretch. I could feel his cock reawakening inside me, and all I could think of was the "Hallelujah Chorus." He was still kissing me and his hands were running over the curves and crevices of my body. He and Ed were a study in contrasts in the attention they gave the men they were fucking. Jack could do anything to me he wanted to do.

"I'll wait for you in the car," Ed said.

"It will be a while," Jack answered.

"I figured. A sweet piece. Took us both like a champ." More compliments from Ed. Who would have known he had such compliments he was willing to spend? But who cared at the moment? Jack was on me, in me. He was going to fuck me again. This time I was going to heaven.

And I did. And I walked on the clouds.

"Can you raise your hips, go up on your knees a bit?" he murmured in my ear. "I want to give it all to you, to fuck you deep."

"Hallelujah," I actually muttered, as I presented for him and he did, indeed, fuck me long and deep. I wouldn't have cared if Ed had to wait out in the car all night—and the next day and night after that.

"I want to see you again; fuck you again," Jack whispered in my ear when he was done and we were cooling down, him still covering my body, still inside me.

"But . . . Kevin," I managed to say, although it took all of my fortitude to bring that subject up.

"Kevin needn't know. I can handle you both, if you don't mind, and Kevin doesn't have to know. That's what this blind double date was for. Ed was here as camouflage for me wanting to get at you. Kevin showed me those nude photos you sent him and I've been crawling the walls to be able to get at you. But Ed and I do like to double guys. So, what do you say? Are you good with it?"

"Who the hell is Kevin?" I responded, with a grin.