No Strings...

"C'mon up," the voice boomed.

'C'mon down!' I muse, 'Sounds like the announcer on that game show.'

Ivan? Michael? Hard to tell who on the intercom sometimes.

The familiar click of the door lock opening.

'Okay,' I tell myself, 'here goes.'

'That's what I said the very first time I came over,' I am remembering. And that bit about the game show.'

'Well, that was then. And this is now.'

In the elevator, my anticipation is increasing with each floor lighting up on the indicator. For what we are about to get into. For what I am eventually going to be telling them.

Upside. Getting naked with them. Snogging. Sucking. Fucking. 'Fuck, I love those guys,' I say to myself. Then, realizing, 'No. No, don't be saying .. don't even be thinking that.' 'No strings attached.' 'NSA. All the way.'

Downside. 'Snogging, sucking, fucking, it is NSA only for so long.' Then.

And now it was then. The ache in the pit of my stomach. Despite vowing 'no strings' I had allowed myself to developed feelings for both of them. The 'L' word even. Not daring to say it aloud or even admit. But that is what it was. And I knew it.

'Fuck,' I tell myself, 'You're an adult male, and you have been indulging in some very adolescent behaviour. And you knew you could get burned. And now you have.'

'Time to end it. Time to tell them. No more. Tonight. That's it. After. I am resolved. I'm going to tell them.'

He opens the door just as I touch the buzzer. Ivan, - naked, like what else? - flings his arms around me, pulling me to him, just this side of crushing my ribs, this big bear of a man, this lovable, huggable bear of a man, as strong as he looks and then some, with an appetite twice as strong again when it comes to getting it on man to man. I pull him into me, as much as I am able, his mouth on mine, mine returning his kiss.

I feel his hand groping at my crotch. "So how's it hanging?" he asks. Then, without waiting for answer, "Fuck, it been missing you". I reach for what is between his legs. It has only been two days. But it could have been a lifetime I am that horny, wanting to get it on with them. Fuck, was I going to miss this.

I look around, expecting Michael. "He's away," Ivan says, anticipating me. "Gonna be an hour, maybe. In the meantime it is you and me." Michael, as much the big bear of a man, just as lovable, just as huggable, just as strong as Ivan, stronger even, maybe, and like Ivan, with an appetite twice as big as he is when it comes to getting naked with a guy. He is one hungry dude.

Now, "Outta these," Ivan says, tugging my sweat shirt over my head, going for my belt, undoing it, unzipping my fly, and letting my pants drop to my ankles.

"Commando," he says, approvingly, "I like how you go commando."

I am always commando. Only once that I could remember I had been wearing dress clothes when I came round, and then, yeah, when I wear the glad rags I wear gotchees. Otherwise I wear jeans, and when I wear jeans I go commando.

He bends down, unties my shoes and tugs them off. Then my socks and has me step out of my pants. He folds them, - my pants, sweat shirt, - and places them neatly on an end of the chesterfield, tucks my socks in my shoes and places them on the floor in front. He is the neat freak.

I am as naked as he is, and he pulls me to himself again, this time his mouth on my mouth in one long, sensuous kiss. Then we break.

"You're staying the night, aren't you?" he asks.

"Yes," I respond. 'Fuck,' I bite my tongue, realizing immediately what I had just agreed to, in spite of what I had resolved. 'Well, one more night.' 'Tell them in the morning,' I say to myself.

Again, his mouth is on mine, and I am responding, giving as good as I get.

When we break, "Fuck, man, I like it when we are naked, and kissing," he says.

"Goes for me too!" I say, as we drop on the chesterfield, to continue making out. His hands are all over me. Mine all over him. Mouth to mouth, snogging. Mouth on my nipples. Mine on his. Licking my pecs, my abs. Fuck. My loins stirring. Then, again, mouth on mouth. Breaking. Now, locked in another one. Again we break.

Out of breath, "Fuck," he says, "Can't get enough of you!"

"Whew. Ditto," I say, once I have gotten my breath.

"You showered?" he wants to know.

"This morning," I reply.

"Hmnn," he says.

That can mean only one thing. I am gonna get rimmed. 'Rimming is not really my thing,' Ivan had said once, 'but when it comes to it, I will rim a showered ass.' My ass is one he rims.

"Shaved?" he asks.

"This morning," I repeat.

"Hmnn," he says again. Again meaning only one thing. I am gonna get showered and shaved. And he is going to shower me and shave me. And shaved, he is going to not only rim me, he is gonna get me ready for Michael. Tonguing me, 'fluffing' me, ready for Michael to fuck me, penetrate me, deep, giving me all he's got, cumming in me, breeding me. Fuck, I am coming up hard. Well, as hard as I get. 'I get fucked tonight," I tell myself, 'Big time!'

We check the water for temperature, and step into the shower. Hot water streaming down our bodies, his body bumping up against mine, mine against his. 'Fuck, this I hot,' I am saying to myself, feeling him, skin to skin. His hairy, against my not so hairy. Wet. He lathers up the sponge, then rubs me down, slowly, languidly, shoulders, pecs, pits, arms, abs, legs, calves, feet, one foot at a time, leaving my genitals and my ass for the time being. Then he hands me the sponge, and my turn, I rub him down, though it is a redundancy - he's probably showered a couple of times already today - but I am up for it, shoulders, pecs, pits, arms, abs, legs, calves, feet, one foot then the other, gently massaging them, and likewise leaving cock, scrotum, and ass for the time being. Always. Always for special attention.

He lathers his hands, then takes my cock and lathers it. All soapy and slick. Slowly. Sensuously. I feel it stiffening.

Then my balls. Cupping my scrotum. Rolling my balls around inside it. Soapy, slowly, sensuously. And fuck, I feel my temperature rising, going up and up.

'Okay,' he says, 'between your legs.'

I prop one foot on the edge of the shower. He goes in past my balls, sponging my gooch, into the crack in my ass.

'Need you to turn,' he says. I turn, and he is sponging down my ass cheeks, then - 'bend, can you?' - and he is into my crack, and sponging my asshole. Slowly, - 'slowly with feeling' - sensuously. Wringing out the sponge, letting it fill with water, flooding out my crack and ass.

My turn. I lather my hands, take his cock and lather it, as he did mine. All soapy and slick. Slowly. Sensuously. I feel it stiffening.

Now his balls. Cupping his scrotum. Rolling his balls around inside it. Those lovely gelatinous orbs. Again soapy, slowly, sensuously. And fuck, I feel my dick stiffening. His dick stiffening. Again the anticipation level climbing higher and higher.

'Okay, between your legs,' I tell him.

As I did, he props a foot on the edge of the shower. I go in past his balls, sponging his gooch, into the crack in his ass.

'Need you to turn,' I say and he does. I sponge down his ass cheeks, then - 'bend, ,' - and I am into his crack, and feeling and sponging his asshole. Taking my time. Slowly, sensuously. Feeling it beneath my fingers. Wringing out the sponge, letting it fill with water, flooding out his crack and ass.

"Hello,"- it's Micheal coming in the door - "Room for a third?" he asks, jauntilly. Fully dressed, he's pulling his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it, undoing his belt, stepping out of his loafers, sockless, dropping his pants to the floor, stepping out of them, and pitching them to the chesterfield. Now, naked, he steps into the shower. "C'mere," he says, scooping me to him, skin to skin, going mouth to mouth, and I am pulling him to me. One long luxurious kiss. The water streaming down us.

"Fuck," he says when we break, "liking that. Liking that. Been waiting for that since we knew you were coming over."

"Mmmm, you and me both," I say.

'Fuck,' I am thinking to myself, 'And I am giving this all up. Fuck.'

He shakes his head back and forth, water swirling out of his hair. 'Fuck,' I am thinking, 'he is one sexy dude.'

"You wanna shave him?" Ivan asks. He has the can of gel, and razor.

"My pleasure," Michael says, upbeat.

'My pleasure,' I say to myself. 'My pleasure!' Pure pleasure. Carnal. Tantalizingly dangerous. His hands in my crotch with a blade. He's squirting the gel into his hand. Now rubbing his two palms together. Now lathering my balls and dick.

"Ready?" he asks. I'm ready, and nod my head, telling him to go ahead. Time was I was terrified seeing him with the razor, about to barber my privates. My now not so private privates. Now how many shaves and no nicks or scrapes later, I can't wait for him to be cupping my scrotum, manipulating it to shave it down, the blade first with, then against the grain. Skillful. My dick likewise, his hand manipulating it to get down to its root, the blade shaving away what pubic hair there might be. No matter that this morning I had done the same. He likes it, they like it, clean and smooth, and more than that they like shaving it clean and smooth. And I like it, being shaved.

"Okay, balls to ass," he says.

I cock one leg on the john, opening up the the join between scrotum and ass. He lathers between my legs, balls to ass, then skillfully strokes the lather away, and what hair there may have been. He swipes his hand through, between my legs, into my crack, feeling it. He is obviously satisfied, pleased with his handiwork.

Now my ass. For this I bend over and spread my cheeks. Again, he lathers it, and deftly wields the razor around my asshole, feeling it out with his other hand. A touch-up here, there, now fingering my hole, satisfied that he has me shaved clean. And feeling it, I am liking what I am feeling, tender skin, refreshingly smooth. And the astringency of the aftershave balm, tingling, caressingly applied.

All this time he has a throbbing hard-on.

I look at it and I am envious. He's well endowed, very well endowed, yes, but it's been a long time since I have been hard like that.

Diabetic. ED. Erectile dysfunction. Best I can muster anymore is a chubby, thicker than when I am soft, but not those glorious hard-ons I once used to sport.

Same with Ivan. Likewise diabetic. LIkewise ED. Likewise a chubby at best.

They had put up a post on a personals site, looking for a sympathetic j-o buddy, someone who would not be put off by the needs of someone with ED, someone to augment what Michael could do for Ivan. Someone who would be compatible with both, no strings attached, for sexual intimacies, 'cuddling, snuggling, kissing, sucking, 'maybe more.''

Same thing I was looking for. I was on the bounce from a two-some that had gone really sour. Missing the 'cuddling, snuggling, kissing, sucking, 'maybe more', the sexual intimacies. Still hungering for them, really. Aching for them. Just not the rest of the baggage. No strings attached. Okay, suits me. Three-way. Well, I had done that, years ago now. I answered it.

For Ivan, I was his new 'handy friend with benefits', as we would joke, with emphasis on the handy. Sympathetic to his need for manual stimulation and manipulation above and beyond the more usual stroking to finally get him over the edge, and blowing off his perennial horniness. Same went for me.

For Michael, well, like Ivan, man Friday. And any other day of the week. Up for just about anything. Catcher, just not the pitcher.

A bitch, neuropathy, destroying a guy's ability to get it up, and get it off. Robbing him of his manliness, really, his sense of self, not being able to get it up. Getting it off, well, eventually you could get it over the top. Just takes longer. But other times, horny as you might be, no matter how you stroke, and rub, and squeeze, and massage and manipulate, it just is not going happen. Just gotta put it off for another day. Frustration.

Same goes for sucking. There are some days, and there are other days. Some days, a bit of caressing your balls, tonguing the corolla, stroking the shaft, sucking on it deeply, and there you go. Other days, you can suck, and play with it with your tongue, suck on his balls, roll them around in your mouth, up and down his dick, and, nope, you finally just gotta give it up, and come back to it later. Horny and frustrated.

Fucking. No, no probs. Sure the asshole and the anus have lost some of their sensation, but when you've got a Michael, and he fills your channel, and gets off on getting off in you, way up in there, well ... Just not up for reciprocation.

Michael sees me eyeing his hard-on. "You want?" he smirks.

"You fucking know I do!" I reply.

"Then let's go get it," he retorts, grabbing me, grabbing Ivan, pulling us with him to the bedroom, tossing us onto the bed, then falling on the bed with us. There is giggling and laughter as he grabs for our dicks, and we grab for his.

And we are into it. Ivan. Michael. Me. Snogging. Face sucking. Nipple nibbling. Groping. Grappling. Tickling. Toe fighting. Feet in crotches, massaging balls. Giggling. More groping, grappling, tickling. Three-way. Ivan. Me. Michael. Hot. Steamy. Heavy duty. Come up for air whenever.

And then Michael is between us, Ivan's dick in one hand, mine in the other, shaking them back and forth, round and round. It means only one thing. He is going to go down on us, alternating, back and forth, and Ivan, if I don't get to it first, is going to go down on Michael, and, round robin, we are all going to get it off, or attempt to, each of us, together.

Michael is down on me, and, - 'fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, fuck, I like this,' - sucking on me, massaging me with his mouth, tonguing round and round my corolla, - 'fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, fuck, Michael, Michael'. I stretch out, tuck my head into Ivan's groin, and get his cock in my mouth. And Ivan gets to go down on Michael's hard-on. The three of us, interweaving like some human Celtic knot, bringing each other on.

Then, on some unspoken cue, we switch. I get Michael's hard-on, Michael's gets Ivan's chubby, and Ivan gets mine. Sucking, and tonguing, and deep-throating, and groins beginning to churn. Then we change again, sucking, tonguing, now moaning, getting closer and closer. We change again, and the face fucking begins. Driving it home. Going for the finish. A quick change, face fucking harder, slamming in and out. Hands grabbing at bodies. I am coming. I know I am coming. Who's got me? Doesn't matter. I am shooting. And somebody is shooting in my mouth. And I hear the other two obviously shooting into whoever's mouth has got them. Doesn't matter. We'll snowball. Then snowball again. And one more time. Then swallow. 'Fuck, oh, fuck, that was good. Oh, fuck, that was good.'

We lay back, in each other's arms, looking into each other's eyes, spent, temporarily.

'Good one,' Ivan says. And Michael and I chorus in agreement, 'Good one.'

Mellow. Mellow. Mellow.

We lay there, holding hands, enjoying the moment. A long moment.

Michael flips over onto his belly. "You guys ready for the big one?" he asks.

Ivan looks at me, I look at Ivan. This is what I have come for. To get fucked by Michael. "Ready," I say, and I hear Ivan, "Ready."

"Okay. You guys prep yourselves, and I will do my number," Michael says.

Prepping means rimming, tonguing, fingering. I am smiling, thinking how once I thought this was disgusting. Until I got a taste for it. Now, it is the penultimate. The best part before the best part. Ivan is on his belly, and I bury my nose between his cheeks, taking in his ass smells, savouring them. Then, with my tongue, circling round his asshole, savouring what I am tasting, Ivan moaning. Then probing his asshole, rolling my tongue to penetrate it. Poking it in and out. Then circling it again. Then probing it again, Ivan moaning beneath me. "Oh, fuck," he is saying, "Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck me." I lick my third finger to lube it, push into his hole, working it around. Ivan grabs a handful of the bedding. I pull it out, lick it again, stick it in again. Ivan's moans are turning to pleading, - "Yes," he is saying, emphatically, "Yes. Yes. Now. Now." I lick my second and third fingers, and probe into his asshole, working them in and out. Ivan is pleading, his asshole squeezing on my fingers, "Now. Now," he is begging.

Just as soon as Ivan is prepped I drop onto my belly, and Ivan, in his heat, buries his nose in my crack, his tongue deftly circling my asshole, probing my asshole, in and out. "Fuck," I hear myself saying, "Oh, fuck, fuck, so good, so good." Then I feel his finger, then fingers, probing deep, past the second knuckle, and I hear myself saying, "Yes, yes, yes, yes," and I am pleading, "Fuck me, Michael, now Michael, fuck me."

Michael has been stroking himself, getting it up hard, forcing it downwards, letting it fly back up, hitting him in the belly. Then side to side. I hear him tearing open the Magnum, to slide it down his length. A squeeze of lube, cool, wet, in my ass, Michael's finger spreading it round. Then I sense Michael kneeling over me, his thighs either side mine, and in my asshole, not Ivan's fingers, but Michael's hard on, pushing, pushing into me. Pushing against the sphincter. Pushing hard against it. Then the sphincter ever so slightly yielding, and Michael continuing to push. He is in, the sudden surprise, always, of being penetrated. And then, deep breath, pushing against him, wanting to expel him, then relaxing to push against him again, but instead, suddenly yielding, and I am surrendering myself to Michael gliding into my passage.

'Oh, it is good,' I am telling myself, 'Good. So good. Michael in me, pushing himself all the way in, deep into my anus, filling it, filling me with his hard on. I hear myself groaning, now working my interior muscles to pull him in even further. And then beginning to stroke. Sliding. In. Out. In. Out.

I feel an arm across my shoulder, Ivan pulling me to him. Ivan waiting his turn, hot and ready for Michael to pull out of me and penetrate him.

I feel the void. I feel Ivan, his both full length touching mine, tensing as Michael probes his asshole, pushing into it, pushing against the sphincter, once, twice, then Ivan tensing as if to eject him, but instead admitting him into his anus, yielding as Michael pushes himself deeper and deeper into Ivan's belly. My turn, I stretch my arm across Ivan's shoulder, cradling him, hearing him moan, as Michael begins to stroke. In. Out. In. Out.

Then I feel a quick cold squeeze of lube around my asshole, and Michael is mounting me again, his hard on on target, the penetration, pushing into my asshole, against the sphincter, the sphincter again resisting. Then, when I push against him, yielding, and again I have Michael in me. Ivan's arm is across my shoulder as Michael begins stroking, - in, out, in, out - then together, me meeting him stroke for stroke, we are fucking. 'Oh, fuck, I like this. I like this,' I tell myself. 'Don't stop. Don't stop. Take me all the way.'

Not yet. Again, it is Ivan's turn. Michael is pulling out of me, and Ivan, his arm around my shoulder is saying, "Don't."

Micheal stops. "Don't what?" he asks.

"Don't stop fucking him," Ivan says.

"Whaa?" Michael is nonplussed. "We've always .." he starts, then restarts, "I've always .. " he stops again, then restarts again, "Don't you want me to fuck you?" he asks.

"Yes. Not saying that," Ivan says, "Just that tonight, I want you should stay with him. Fuck him. Fuck him for me. Take him home. Breed him."

'Holy Fuck,' I am thinking.

"Fuck, that what you want?" Michael asks Ivan, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Ivan says. I feel him squeeze my shoulder.