Flip and Trey Redux 5 or 15

Flip and Trey Redux 15

Re-examining decisions made

I have published a number of stories tracing the young life of Flip Mecum, as a gay dance club performer, a porn star, partner of Michael (who went on to Hollywood film fame), friend of Brent (an investment banker and theatre angel who is paired with Kirk), and ultimately partner and now fiancé of Trey Magrath, a college football star and engineering whiz from Mobile.

At the end of the last series, it seemed that the two couples were going to move to the burbs and start raising a brood, possibly after a grand Southern wedding. There is also a series starring Kirk Olsen (Ya Gotta Do...., on Literotica).

The story continues—and with this brief introduction, it is more of less standalone, although you won't get the full richness of the character development to date. The story is fiction. All characters, places and Broadway shows are fictional, even if they have accidental relation to reality. All characters engaging in sexual activity are over 18. © 2024, Brunosden. All rights reserved.

The story continues in Flip's first person voice--

It's been nearly three weeks since the orgy at Brent's Southampton "cottage." It was an incredibly wild weekend. Brent's king, facing the dunes and the ocean, with cooling breezes was nevertheless hot, hot hot. Each of us got to fulfill a few fantasies: fucking and getting fucked by a couple of friends who were not our partners—in the presence and with the approval of our partners. Several threesomes and one foursome. Most of us had had previous experience with other men, some of us quite a lot, but not Trey.

I had been Trey's first, and he had fallen hard. When we met, I was on the rebound (although I didn't even know it at the time as I still thought Michael would "repent and return"—and I'd take him back). I wasn't planning to fuck anybody at that time and certainly not Trey the first night we met. I needed someone to talk to, to validate me. He was just someone to keep me warm in bed. He was innocent. But, before morning, we had coupled. I had opened him to the joys of male sex. He turned out to be the most exciting guy that I've ever slept with: a perfect body, an insatiable appetite for fucking, a wonderful and cheery personality and, it turns out, an understanding and accepting family. It was love at first fuck. We were and are in love.

For months, Brent and Kirk, at different times, had been suggesting that we "broaden our horizons" and "try a little experimentation." Brent had convinced Trey that a short vacation in Southampton would provide us with a time to experiment. Both Kirk and I understood that experiment meant group sex, and we were all in, so to spea

The weekend had started with drinks and conversation after a long hot ride out to the tip of Long Island. During the cocktails, Brent had spun out a proposal relating to our future. And in order to set up the scene (the opportunity for a weekend of orgasmic adventure), Kirk and I had agreed with Brent and Trey: to relocate our lives to suburban New Jersey, marry and start making inquiries about children. Yeah! All of that in one weekend! Of course we left open so many questions: where in New Jersey? When? What kind of marriage? Did we keep the Montana coops? And who was going to be responsible for raising the little guys when they appeared (all of us assumed they would be boys)?

Two and half days of orgy followed. None of us was ever clothed, and fortunately Brent had had the place stocked with pizzas and grilling stuff. We never left the cottage.

Then all of us returned to the City, a little quiet, tired, but (almost) satiated with three days of non-stop sex. We all went back to work. My role as the Phantom in the prequel was demanding and continuing. Music Man, the reprise, opened with Kirk as the star, and he wowed the critics. He was an all around Nordic-god sensation. He could dance; he could sing; and, he had the ultimate flair for dramatic acting. The matinees were filled with silver-haired women drooling over his body. And Tuesday nights (LBGTQ+ night) found a long line of handsome groupies at the stage door after the performance.

Brent continued to rake in the dough at the investment advisory firm which was now assembling a hedge fund to specialize in entertainment investments. And of course, Trey was getting ready to launch the first full-scale installations of MSTLS (Magrath Smart Theatre Lighting Systems). Our lives returned to their normal frantic pace. I was on a real high, felt better about my life than ever and assumed that other others did as well.

I noticed immediately a change in Trey. The first manifestations were physical. He increased our already frequent coupling. We had been together for over a year now, but he still wanted it at least once a day, usually more often. Being a young over-sexed guy, I was ready very happy to oblige. And our love making became long and languorous—almost as though he was trying to get pregnant. He drew it out every time, with tons of foreplay, lots of edging and verbal stimulation. And then he wanted me to hold him close plugging my spunk inside. When we were in the same room, his hands were on me, all the time. We never showered alone. I was in heaven. If promising to marry and move had produced this, I should have done it long ago.

But, Trey lost his naturally ebullient, smiling easy-going attitude. He got serious and introspective. We even declined a few evening meals with Brent and Kirk—at Trey's insistence, and spent them in bed together. Of course, I thought, it was MSTLS. The success of the first installations would determine his future—and the financial security of his folks and sisters in Mobile. Magrath had "bet the ranch" on the new technology, and had even given up part ownership to a venture capital investor and a Taiwanese electronics conglomerate. He would know if a few days or weeks whether he had a commercial and technical breakthrough or not. Actually, WE would know. I was invested in this project as he was. Its success would give him the ability to remain in New York—so I wouldn't have to consider any change in my career.

There was a lot riding on his shoulders, wide, muscled and magnificent as they continue to be. The future of his family—and his own future rested on him.

Finally, on a Monday night when I was "off" and we were enjoying a quiet dinner at home (take-out of course—neither of us had really learned to cook and after an appetizer quickie), I decided it was time to talk. "It's time, Trey. You've changed. Most of it for the better, I might add. I can't believe how much I'm enjoying filling you with my baby-makers every day. And you've got my love nut stimulation to perfection. You can get me hard just glancing at me with those baby blues and drooping ginger curls. You are so hot I've had to increase the AC. But something's wrong. We're close enough that I can feel it. When you're down, I'm down. When you're tense, I'm tense. So what is it?"

He took a few bites of the Kung Pao chicken. "Nothing's wrong. The rehearsals for the two off-Broadway plays are going well and the MSTLS lighting is working just the way I want it to. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is pleased. I think we'll have a full order book from the theatres in a few weeks. And London seems to be following the same pattern. We've got a winner."

"So it's not the tech. I assumed you were stewing over the business."

"No. MSTLS is fine."

"You're not going to tell me are you?"

"I'm telling you it's nothing. Our relationship is maturing nicely. We've got a lot to look forward to. We're going to start looking for a place in Jersey. I love you, Flip. Now more than ever. And you, babe, are even hotter than the first time you took me in this coop!"

As he finished those words, I stood from the kitchen counter and pulled him to the sofa and into my lap. I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders, and his head moved to mine. Our lips touched and our tongues emerged to do battle. (Really good Chinese, by the way. We'd have to use that place again.) It was late September and New York was enjoying a hot Indian Summer, so we weren't wearing much: tees and trunks and we were already moist with arousal. I released his head and let him move back a little, while pulling his tee over his head. Immediately I glommed on to his left nipple. My tongue teased it before I started sucking. I knew this was his sweet spot. Sucking here started his engine every time.

"Fuck. Don't stop." He murmured as his own hands moved to hold my face to his chest. The aureoles darkened and his nipple went erect like a miniature penis as he squirmed. I continued to suck on one while teasing the other with a couple of fingers—a double threat. Finally he had had enough. "You're gonna bring me off just by working my tits." He flipped over, pulled my dick out of the fly and took my hooded head between his lips. He used his tongue to push the hood down and started to circle and suck on the glans. Then he deepened the penetration and I reached his throat. I spread my legs and my ass rose from the sofa cushion to increase the depth. His left hand came up between my legs and cupped my balls, pressing hard on the taint, holding me deep in his mouth. Fuck he had me!

Then I looked over at his body which was stretched out now on the sofa. His ass rose, asking for something. I reached down and my fingers pushed the waistband down exposing his globes. I continued down to tease his rosebud. His cheeks contracted in welcome, creating that familiar concave hand-hold which I had learned to love. I grabbed and massaged. We both knew where this was headed. He pushed back into my finger inviting it to penetrate. I reached over to the lube tub on the side table and repositioned. As expected, he lofted his cheeks into my hand and the index finger was in. It did a bit of exploration—as though it had never been in that cave before! I found the treasure and began to poke around its surface, feeling the pulse inside and his rising arousal in my lap. It was indeed a cache of the best kind of treasure—the treasure of ultimate pleasure nerves. I added a second and took possession—of the nut and with it, my magnificent jock partner. He had pulled off to breathe and was purring in response. He would follow me anywhere! His eyes were hungry, and his rosy curls dropped provocatively over them.

I scanned the near-naked man stretched out over me heaving with desire. He was so beautiful. Just gazing at him raised my blood pressure, my heart rate and the hardness of my cock. The muscular delts drew together, then expanded widening his torso. The glutes tensed and released, emphasizing his tight small waist. And his cock dug into the sofa cushion as it lengthened and hardened. It never gets old. It's better every time. Each time we grow closer and become one. I was so lucky to have walked home with him after the performance so many months before.

"Let's take this to our bed. I think I'd like you ride me tonight if you're up for it."

"Are you kidding? I'm always up for a ride. You may be the Texan, but I've always loved the stables and the rodeo." He rose from my lap and stripped off his underwear. I followed him to the room, salivating at the motion of his ass cheeks as he strode. He was so powerful. So confident. So macho. His very strides were the stage struts of a powerful dancer. He was teasing and I knew it. I finished stripping and stretched out on my back on the bed. My pole was hard, long and pointing straight up, still dripping with his saliva. The hood was partially drawn back exposing the deep Indian red of the tip. He stared at it hungrily for just a few seconds and climbed on. Wasting no time, he lubed me, enjoying playing with my hood. Then he lubed his hole and saddled himself. He was tentative for only a few seconds as he rose and fell, stretching to accommodate me. I felt his tightness holding my penis tightly inside. Then I felt him bottom, his rugged ass cheeks settling into my gut as my dick knocked on his second ring. He was the rider in the saddle, but my cock owned him. He was my puppet.

His abs were tight and really cut. His cock was stretched out before him, trailing precum on my abs already. His arms reached out to support himself on my shoulders, as he reached down and pecked my lips, sucking my tongue into his mouth.

Using that leverage, he bounced a few times, seating himself firmly. I widened my stance and raised my knees to get foot traction and started the bucking action that would drive me deeper and him crazier. His eyes shut as the color deepened on his face. His rosy curls, now moist and darker, swung back and forth over his lids. Fuck, he was so sexy. At last, after a particularly lofty buck, he fell onto my chest and I held him close. He began to massage my abs with his cock, sliding along the milky precum that he had dripped there. We kissed and our tongues dueled. Then I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to breed my boy. I shouted out a rodeo cry of victory, stiffened and exploded inside. Three. Four spasms, each carrying gobs of my seed deep inside. Fuck, if men could get pregnant, we'd already have a brood!

His own cock began to throb and empty onto my chest. I was covered in his spunk. I reached down, scooped up some of his cum and we both sucked on my coated fingers. Then, we drifted in sleepy oblivion for awhile, sated and pleased. Even though tightly plugged, he dripped my cum between us, reminding us again and again of the marvels of a terrific double orgasm. I couldn't imagine better sex with anyone else in the world.

Finally, Trey pulled off and stretched out beside me, on his side facing me. An arm went under his head. This was prelude to a post-coital talk. I knew he was serious. These moments of deep revelation were the epitome of his communication. So I remained silent and was poised to listen—"actively" as the psychs say. I think he was about to tell me what the problem was. I hoped that I could concentrate given his magnificent sexed-up body and half-hard cock drooping before my eyes.

"It's all about Southampton."

"Fuck, that was a great weekend."

"Please, Flip, let me talk. I need to get this out. Brent and I had carefully planned that weekend. And we agreed that the orgy—and the promise of more of the same--might be the price you and Kirk would need to push you over the top into marriage, suburban living and a family. I hated it from the start. I want the family, and I'm ready to marry you. But, not the way Brent envisions it, and not if it isn't what we both want."

"I know we are indebted to Brent. He gives us so much; he invests in your musicals; he invested in MSTLS; he helped you to get this place. He's a great friend, but deep down he is really the author of our lives. He's really the Daddy in this situation. We live almost together. We eat together often. And now we've fucked together—and I know that Brent and Kirk both see that continuing. I'm not the dumb Southern jock who is just a pretty sexual punching bag."

I blinked hard at that. Both of us knew it wasn't true. I was about to protest, but he continued.

" I know exactly what's going on with Kirk and Brent. I know Kirk seems to need more than Brent. And that Brent is willing to look the other way to keep Kirk in his bed."

"But—and this is a big but—"

(I was about to comment that he had one of the nicest little bubble butts that I had ever seen or used, but I kept quiet.)

"that is not me. Flip, you're enough for me. I don't want to move to the burbs if it means that we are going to be living in some big mansion or estate with Kirk and Brent. I don't want an open relationship—or marriage. And I don't want to raise our kids jointly with a guy who thinks he needs more than Brent to satisfy himself or a guy like Brent who, nice as he is, owns everything. Including us and our kids, if we follow his script."

"Kirk is always going to be a rolling stone. And if we all bunk together, his moss is always going to be a threat to us. I'm not going to be one of his convenient cum dumps. I absolutely don't want to raise kids in an open relationship atmosphere. I just can't."

So there it was. Finally Trey had revealed his concerns. He was more of an old-fashioned Southern boy than I had ever imagined. In his desire to settle down with me, he had constructed a scenario, really a conspiracy, with Brent to make it happen. Now he regretted it. He didn't want to lose two good friends—particularly where one was a major investor in his new company. But, he didn't want to share—me with Kirk and Brent or himself with them either.

I needed a few seconds to think before I talked. This was the critical moment in our relationship. No snarky or quick response was appropriate. So, I got up and went to the bath, returning with a warm towel to clean us up. Silent through it all. A very pregnant silence. I knew Trey was waiting for a reaction. And I think he was a little scared that he had gone too far.

I stretched back out beside him and took him in my arms. "Trey, you are everything to me. I don't need anyone else. I don't need weekends in the Hamptons. Or orgies. Or a big house in the suburbs. Just you. So let's start again. I'm ready to marry. And I'd like to do it in Mobile with Mama running the show. I don't want to share that day with anyone but you. I want us to have kids."

"But, I'm not wild about the burbs. I need the vitality and speed of the City to keep me at my peak. So, let's tell Mama to go ahead. We'll explain to Brent that we don't think a double gay wedding—of all places in Alabama—is going to happen. We don't want the protests and the approbation of that community to spoil our day. We're not politicians. We don't need a scene to prove anything. Mama can get away with something for her precious son, but staging a gay spectacle in Mobile is not fair to her—or us."

"Then, we'll tell Brent that, at least for the time being, we intend to stay in New York. We've got enough money now. So I'm going to redeem Brent's loan on this place. It'll be ours now, free and clear. The rest can wait. Let's wait a little while and see how things develop. I won't be on the stage forever. In fact, I can ask my agent to keep his eyes open for some TV or movie opportunities. That'll give me more free time to be with you—and see how we can raise kids, maybe even right here in the City. And it'll give you time to devote to the business to give it a proper launch."

Through it all, Trey was beaming. He knew I had heard him. And that I'd do anything for him. He flipped around and buried his ass in my gut. "Spoon me, Cowboy. Hold me tight. I love it when I'm in your arms. I'm ready to make this permanent." I was hard again. It was difficult not to be when he was near. I was going in for seconds.

*****

The next day we made a joint call to Mama. "We're announcing an engagement. We'd be real pleased if you'd plan the affair. We'd like to do the wedding at the house in Mobile if you agree. Maybe next spring, early when the azaleas are in bloom." She was thrilled and started planning an engagement announcement party over Christmas when we would be in Mobile.

Breaking the news to Brent and Kirk turned out to be much easier than we had anticipated. ATO (after the orgy), Kirk had begun whispering to Brent. Kirk was never fully on board with a move to the suburbs, although he was prepared to do the marriage bit to maintain his relationship with Brent. He really did love Brent. It was just that he wasn't really cut out for full-on monogamy. At first, he thought that if he had a harem—Brent, Trey and me—he'd be happy. But then he decided no. At least not yet. He really loved Brent's expansive coop in the Montana. And the City provided him with so many opportunities for "extra-curricular" activities. He was definitely enjoying being the "belle" of the balls on Tuesday nights! He had pretty much convinced Brent that the Southampton decisions were really not what we all wanted—although he was absolutely ready to engage in some coop orgies if we were game. They had decided to stall.