Paul3

After that first night with me and Paul and Mark, I really felt weird.

It had been an intensely enjoyable fuck, and I'd cum twice, but the whole aspect of putting my dick into another man was disturbing. And more than that, I'd jerked him off.

Did that make me gay? It was homosexual sex.

But I still liked women. More than liked. Preferred.

I was confused, and really, since then the confusion has never gone completely away.

After a while I just decided that I wasn't really gay, or hetro, or bi. I was just "sexual". I'd put my pecker into just about anything that wouldn't hurt it.

Having come to that conclusion and not wanting to make Mark or Paul feel weird about it, I put the issue out of my mind, just deciding to go with the flow.

Mark and I became closer after that. Well, it's difficult not to get close to some one who pretty much would drop to his knees and gobble your knob whenever you asked, and sometimes when you didn't.

He never really lost that bit of creepiness and secretiveness that had originally turned me off, but I came to understand the reason for that. Turns out that was because his dad was a domineering asshole that pretty much beat the kid down anytime he tried to speak up for himself. Mark was even going to community college instead of university on scholarship because his old man didn't want him to get out from under his thumb.

I started taking him to the gym with me, and to my MMA sessions to help build up his confidence. He gained size and mass quickly. I later found out that he often skipped class to work out and was shooting 'roids. It also made him more aggressive.

A few months later the old man took a poke at him, Mark caught him in an arm lock and blew out his elbow.

When the old man got back from the hospital, he told Mark to get out of the house. "Make me," was Mark's reply. Mark's mom intervened and asked him to leave.

I knew he didn't have anywhere else to go. I invited him to move in with me.

Winter had come and the roofing business had dried up so I got a job working for an accounting firm in town. I wasn't an accountant, but it had been my dad's business and I knew it in and out. They were delighted to have me.

Initially, it was great. I wasn't a chartered accountant, but because of my dad, I knew a few things, so the firm paid me pretty well.

I'd get a blow job from Mark in the morning, come home and fuck him in the ass at night. Or, if I wanted, we'd go out and try to pick up girls. If I got lucky, he'd hit the couch when we got back and I'd take the girl to the bedroom.

For about two months, shit was ideal. Then it started to go downhill.

Paul lost his job at the rec center and had to fall back on his occupation as a weed salesman. Unfortunately Paul was more of a smoker than a seller and barely subsisted on what he could make selling pot. He moved in with us as kind of a fait accompli, by showing up on the doorstep one Friday night with a duffel bag containing everything that he hadn't pawned. We got high, passed out, and he never left.

Paul moving turned out to be a good thing, because it distracted Mark. Over the months, I had begun to get the sense that Mark was starting to think of me as his boyfriend. He'd be bitchy and pout when I brought girls home. Or when I didn't want to have sex, which was happening more and more. When I had been bigger and stronger than him, and he was slender, it had been easy for me to become aroused by his advances. But now, he had twenty pounds on me. The more masculine he started to look, the less enthusiastic I became.

Not to mention the acne from the steroids was a serious turn off. And that they were making him more sexually aggressive too, more demanding. In the beginning, he'd definitely been the bottom, meaning I pitched and he caught and he was content if I stroked him off. Now he frequently tried to get me to suck his cock, or stick it up my ass.

Like one time we were wrestling in the living room. Naked, because I'd just boned him, and we were goofing around. Until he got me in a full nelson. I was suddenly aware that his fully engorged, throbbing hard cock was being pushed between my ass cheeks. Thinking he was just teasing, I tried to buck him off, but then I felt the head of his cock pushing at my anus, which clenched up tight.

"Ow. Fuck, man. Stop that and let me up."

Without saying anything, he pulled back and then began dry humping my ass crack.

"Seriously man, this is not cool."

"Come on. What if I go get the lube and you try to take it?" His breath was hot on my back.

"No, dude. We've been over this before. I'm not into that."

"Let me finish like this then."

I sighed. "Fine."

He withdrew one of his arms and I could here him spit into his palm, then felt him lubricate his cock. He then began to fuck my ass crack, probing my anus with each stroke, testing to see if he could penetrate it even a little.

He began to grunt, the same as he had when he had butt fucked Amber, and I knew he was imagining spearing me deep in the ass.

The spit had long dried and my anus was starting to get rubbed raw and irritated when Mark suddenly stiffed. I felt that enormous cock of his spasm and several spurts of warm wetness splattered my crack and back up to the shoulders. Mark collapsed on my back forcing the breath out of me and driving his dick towards my hole in one last thrust. I grunted in pain as his cock, lubed by slippery semen, almost but not quite battered it's way in.

"Mmm, that was good," Mark murmured.

"Get the fuck off of me. I want to have a shower."

I guess I wasn't really mad at Mark, after all I'd used his mouth and ass plenty, and I could understand him wanting some reciprocation. Truthfully, I'd even been toying with the idea of sucking him off prior to that, I just didn't want anything up my ass.

We didn't talk about that afterwards, but that was when I started to keep my distance, declining offers of bj's, and avoiding rough housing. I started bringing girls home a lot more often, even ones I wasn't all that interested in, just to have that excuse to not have to deal with Mark.

So when Paul moved in and Mark started turning his attention to him, it was a great relief to me. Their habits quickly became annoying though. It was not uncommon for them to spend entire days lounging in the living room naked, smoking up, and watching porn. It got so bad that I had to call home before bringing a girl back, and even then, word was starting to get around that my room mates were creepy.

Not that they were room mates in the sense that they actually contributed to the rent. Paul was now selling pot right out of my place, not even going out to deal, which was starting to make me nervous, but only to a small circle of stoner friends, and only enough to support his habit and interests. Mark had gotten a job as a "personal trainer" at the gym, but could pretty much write his own hours and rarely worked more than three days a week. I was still paying the rent and buying the groceries, although I was increasingly eating out because anything that I brought home that was either microwavable or edible out of the bag was usually gone by the time I got home the next day.

It was also immediately apparent that a role reversal had taken place. Whereas Paul had before been the leader and motivator in our crew, he now deferred to Mark and myself. Also, where before he had been adamant about not taking cock, it was only a couple of weeks before it was Paul on his knees in front of Mark more often than not.

The first time that I saw it was kind of shocking, and kind of ugly.

I knew that they got it on pretty much throughout the day while I was at work, but I rarely saw them in action. If they started up while I was at home, I'd usually retreat to the bedroom - which I'd made clear was off limits to them - and read a book, or watch some TV on my small screen. Actually, I'd often go in there to watch TV anyway, being unable to stomach the continuous stream of porn and MTV that they were ingesting.

One day, when I got home, they were already going at it. Being as they were in the living room, it was impossible for me to sneak in and by them.

Mark was in the deep easy chair in the corner. Paul was on his knees in front of him. Mark had both hands twined into Paul's hair and was fucking his face. Paul was working Mark's cock with both hands as his head bobbed up and down, needing both to keep Mark's enormous cock from going down his throat and choking him. Ropes of saliva ran down Paul's hands and across Mark's legs and balls, and Paul was gagging.

I was grossed out. I like a good bj as much as the next guy, but forcing it to that paint has never appealed to me.

"Mark, what the fuck man? Is he ok?"

Mark grunted, "Ask him yourself when we're done."

Paul made no attempt to get up or answer, so I figured he was ok. I went to the fridge and got a beer.

I had just cracked it when Mark came.

Arching his back and opening his mouth wide in a wordless shout, Mark shoved his cock into Paul's mouth, hard. Paul tried to pull off, but Mark held him on to the point that Paul started to retch. Cum was spurting out around his lips. It took a literal minute for Mark's orgasm to subside, Paul retching the whole time.

When Mark finally let him off, Paul's face was streaked with cum, spit, and tears. His eyes were rimmed red.

"Fuck Christ man, are you ok?"

"Yeah. I like it." Was Paul's reply. But it sounded strained, and not like him. Maybe it was just the dick hammering his vocal cords.

"Fuck. Go clean yourself up." I was disgusted by his appearance. I pointed at Mark, "And you clean up that fucking chair."

Mark looked surprised, like he had thought he was king shit and now I was challenging him. We stared each other down for a few seconds. Mark looked away first and went to the closet to get paper towels.

I went to my bedroom and turned on the TV. I drank my beer slow. It would be the only one that night. I couldn't get drunk or loose around Mark and Paul anymore. The situation was getting tense. I needed to get out. I could, easily, just walk away, but the trailer was rented in my name. I started thinking about an exit plan.