INTERLUDE Read online

  Larry and I exchanged glances and laughed.

  “Well?” Max prompted.

  Max was about thirty, a big guy, with tattoos on his arms. He was a former soldier, rumored to be tough as nails.

  “I don’t think I want to play,” I said, returning my stiff prick to my pants.

  “You’re a pussy,” Max said, leveling his dark gaze on me.

  “I’m no pussy,” Larry hurried to say. He rammed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a fist full of bills. “I’ve got fifty bucks that says my rod is longer than both of yours.” He looked from Max to me, then back to Max.

  Fifty bucks, I thought. Larry is really serious. Even Max grimaced a little when Larry put down the cash. My gaze went to the front of Max’s jeans. I didn’t see a bulge. Maybe he wasn’t concealing a hard-on. Maybe I could beat Larry. Now, maybe I could beat Max too. Fifty bucks would buy a nice Christmas present for my mom.

  “Well?” Max prompted, looking at me. “Are you in or not?”

  “I’m in,” I announced. I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out my cash. Hurriedly, I tossed fifty bucks on the desk. Then I pulled my cock out of my pants and stepped up to the ruler lying on the corner of the desk.

  “You got real eager all of a sudden,” Max said, a leering grin on his face.

  I returned his grin. “I want to see your prick, Max. And I figure this is the way to do it. Where’s your dough?”

  Max reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took several bills out and tossed them on the pile.

  “Winner takes home a hundred and fifty bucks,” he said. “Who’s first?”

  “I’ll go first,” Larry announced.

  His prick was long and hard, bobbing at his crotch. He grasped it with one hand and slid the ruler off the desk with the other.

  Max and I craned our necks to see the ruler as Larry positioned one end of it against his balls and pressed its wooden length along his hot rod.

  “Man. I’ve got nine inches of throbbing cock,” he boasted. “Nine inches!”

  He tossed the ruler on the desk and stepped back, grinning at Max and me.

  “That’s nothing,” I remarked, snatching the ruler off the desk. “I could beat that without a hard-on.”

  Max and Larry jeered at my words.

  I grasped my prick, thinking about that hundred and fifty bucks, and mentally willed my body to cooperate. So far I’d managed to keep it up and hard—because the very sight of Larry’s prick and the thought of getting to see Max’s rod for the first time—had me aroused to the point of near orgasm.

  I shoved the ruler against my prick, poking one end of it against my balls. I willed my rod to stretch, to lengthen as far as possible. I could feel Larry and Max’s eyes on my erection. Their interest made it even harder.

  “Damn!” Larry said under his breath. “You’ve got nine and a half inches!”

  “I’m blessed,” I quipped. I passed the ruler to Max and stepped back, looking at him. I didn’t even attempt to hide my long cock, in fact, I was feeling so fucking turned on by the whole experience that I was considering offering to fuck the loser. I stood there grinning from ear to ear, my hard cock poking through my zipper fly.

  “Come on Max. Show us what you’ve got.”

  Max had sat on the opposite corner of the desk the whole time Larry and me had measured our cocks and joked about who had the longest. There was still no bulge in the front of his pants. I wondered if he was still in the game.

  Max stood up slowly. “You know you two punks-“

  “Hey. No name calling,” Larry cut him off, giggling.

  “Put your cock where your mouth is,” I challenged. I grabbed my stiff rod and wagged it at him.

  “Did I ever tell you guys about the time me and a group of army buddies visited a whorehouse?” Max began.

  Larry and I glanced at each other.

  “You can’t get it up,” Larry stated, grinning at Max.

  Max swiped a hand through his hair. “I’m hard. I’ve been hard since I walked in here and saw what you two were up to.”

  “Then show us,” Larry quipped. “And put the ruler to it.”

  “Yeah,” I added in a sarcastic voice. “It’s getting cold in here. Why don’t you turn up the heat? My prick is getting frostbite.”

  Max grinned and placed his fingers on his zipper. “I’m thinking I’ll up the ante.”

  Larry and I looked at each other. Max thought he had us both beat. Well, I had already beat Larry, and by Max’s tone, I may have him beat as well.

  “Fifty bucks is all I’ve got,” I shrugged my shoulders. “So I can’t call if you throw down more money.”

  “But you’ll still have to measure your prick,” Larry tacked on.

  “About that whorehouse—“Max began. “Either one of you college boys ever see a whore in action?”

  Larry and I shook our heads no.

  “A real professional can handle three guys all at the same time.”

  I tried picturing four people having sex—a bed full of bodies, arms and legs twined, bare naked bodies lunging and thrusting, a prick in the mouth, a prick up the ass and a prick in the cunt. I felt sweat pop out on my forehead. Suddenly it wasn’t cold in the office anymore.

  “Stick it out, Max,” Larry coaxed. He picked up the ruler and walked over to Max. “Or do you need more sex talk to get it up?”

  Max unzipped his pants and pulled his cock through the opening.

  My eyes popped. Christ! I was going to lose my fifty bucks. There wouldn’t be anything under the Christmas tree for Mom. I let out a groan and pushed my cock inside my pants, then sat down, certain I was out of the game.

  Max laughed and took the ruler from Larry. Carefully, he positioned his prick against the ruler.

  I was all set to hear Max had an even foot long cock, all set to kiss my money good-by, when Larry laughed so loud I jumped to my feet.

  “You may have a monster there, Max, but its only eight inches long!” Larry screeched.

  “Eight inches?” I repeated, having a close up look at Max’s rod.

  It was thick and engorged, all right, with a bulbous head that glistened with a tiny dot of semen on top, but it wasn’t a foot long.

  “I won!” I exclaimed, throwing both hands into the air. I snatched the money off the desk and crammed it in my pocket. “Halleluiah! I’ve got the longest prick!”

  I felt like celebrating the win. I looked at Larry—his prick was still hard and poking out of his pants—then I looked at Max. He had his fist wrapped around his rod like he was deciding who to stick it to.

  “Anybody want to fuck?” I asked, laughing slightly. Just the idea that mine was bigger made it start to rise again.

  “I’ve never had it in the ass,” Larry admitted, a skeptical look on his face.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” Max informed him. “Drop your drawers and turn around.”

  I was hard as a hammer suddenly. I watched Larry drop his drawers and Max pulled his ass against his crotch, rubbed on him a bit, then began poking him with his fingers.

  “Bend over,” Max growled.

  Larry grasped his own cock, began to masturbate, spread his legs and bent forward. Max spread his ass cheeks and bent down to lick his asshole. Larry jumped at the first touch of Max’s tongue.

  I stood there, taking it all in. My prick was creaming semen on its shiny knob. My fist wrapped snugly around it and began moving slightly. I was burning up. Aroused to the point that I thought about doing Max while he was poking Larry.

  Then it dawned on me that three could play all at once—like the whore in Max’s story. I hurried over to Larry and dropped to my knees, taking his prick in my mouth.

  “Oh, man!” Larry exclaimed the second I sucked him inside.

  I wished I’d taken my jeans off before I went down on Larry. My prick was hanging through the zipper opening, bobbing and creaming. I wrapped one hand around it and began masturbating while I grasped Lar
ry prick in my other fist!

  Max was making all sorts of grunting noises. I was sucking and panting, about to bring Larry to orgasm and lose my wad at the same time!

  We all knew when Max went off. He rammed Larry’s asshole so hard that Larry’s prick jerked out of my mouth and I crashed down on my hands and knees.

  Larry let out a bellow and recovered his footing when Max yanked his ass back against his crotch. Larry finished his own orgasm, squirting his cum on the floor beside me while I made my own white puddle against the leg of the desk.

  We all groaned and moaned and panted like we’d been running a race for several minutes. I lay back on the floor, savoring my climax as it shot through my body.

  Max pulled out of Larry and went to sit on the desk. I looked at his cock. It was covered with white cum, and his hairy balls were wet. His chest was heaving. He grinned at me.

  It dawned on me then that I was the big winner and I’d jacked myself off. I felt cheated suddenly. I could tell by the look on Max’s face that he was thinking the same thing.

  “Drop your drawers, Max,” I said, getting up. “You were the loser and I’m going to fuck you.”

  He laughed and stood up, dropped his drawers, turned his bare ass to me. I looked down at my prick. It was limp, hanging there covered with my own juice. Well, I figured, at least I’d be taking home winnings. I may not be boasting about ass-fucking Max…

  Suddenly I put my hands on Max’s ass, felt his hair-roughened skin, the warmth beneath my palms, smelled his male musk.

  I was hard—rock hard.

  I recalled what I’d seen Max do to Larry—I spread Max’s ass cheeks, a hand on either side of his slit—then I spied his bunghole. It was large, brown, and beckoned to me. I leaned forward, sticking out my tongue—I rimmed it, wetting it real good.

  My chest was heaving with excitement. I was entering a new phase of my life—having sex with a man—

  I grasped my cock in my right hand, stood up real tall on my tiptoes and aimed my cock head at Max’s asshole.

  I pushed in all at once.

  The heat was immense. I began to pump my hips. The thought of what I was doing nearly brought me off before I set a good rhythm—

  I swear three pumps into Max’s asshole and I shot my wad, bellowing so loud that Larry yelled at me to shut up.

  It had never felt so good—never felt so fucking good! The first piece of cunt hadn’t been as exhilarating as humping Max!

  We spent the night fucking in Max’s office, doing each other, resting, drinking. I’ll never forget it. And every time I look at the gold candelabra I bought my mom for Christmas that year, I remember—and I get hard.

  TEMPTATION

  Tim and I were old college pals. He had majored in economics and my major was law. We always joked that I’d handle his legal business and he’d give me investment advice. But, things didn’t work out. He took a job in another state soon after graduation and we lost touch—until I got a phone call from him one day saying he would be coming to town and he wanted to see me.

  I was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Tim again. We arranged to meet at a fashionable restaurant downtown, near the hotel he’d be staying in. I arrived early and arranged for a table in the quiet section of the restaurant, ordered a drink, and settled in to watch the crowd while I waited for Tim.

  He was fashionably late—a trait I’d almost forgotten Tim harbored. I was on my second gin and tonic when I looked across the restaurant and spied Tim—with a very stylish, quite debonair—young man.

  Surprise raced through me—coupled with a measure of jealously.

  I sat there, confused, staring at them as they were directed to my table. Why was I feeling jealous? I wondered, hoping it wasn’t apparent on my face.

  My eyes flashed over Tim’s tall, lean body as he led the way through the tables to where I sat. He always was a clotheshorse. He was dressed in a camel tan suit with a pale green shirt, open at the collar and his dishwater blond hair grazed his shoulders, accentuating his carefree manner. His green gaze was pinned on my face—gauging my reaction, I’m sure—and his handsomely chiseled features beamed with a wide grin.

  My prick jerked in my crotch.

  Unconsciously I laid my palm against it.

  What was happening to me?

  Tim’s companion, drawn forth by Tim’s hand once they reached a portion of the room where tables gave way to a small dance floor, was an attractive man of about thirty, dark features, equally dark hair, dressed as fashionably as Tim—Armani suit in cream with a light pink shirt and slightly darker hued tie.

  Real men wear pink, I thought, then chuckled slightly. Years ago Tim and I used to refer to men who dared to don the color as would-be males.

  A shiver of lust momentarily shook my senses.

  Tim’s companion was by no means lacking in the male department. His wide shoulders and tapered waist made me think of pumping iron and sweating.

  I got to my feet—a bit awkward since by this time I had gotten a full-blown hard-on. We shook hands, then embraced. I tried to keep from making such close contact with Tim—but he pulled me into his arms—and my stiff prick pushed into his crotch.

  I knew he knew I had a hard-on from the look he gave me after our embrace.

  “This is Monty,” Tim said, drawing his friend forward.

  “It’s a pleasure,” I said clasping his hand.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Monty returned. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, sliding into the chair to my left. “Tim has been telling secrets,” he added, then gave me a wink.

  I felt my face redden. Tim and I had been pretty risqué in our college days and I wondered what he’d told Monty.

  The waiter arrived to take their drink orders and I took the few moments to survey Monty. He was quite handsome, very well coiffed, exquisite features. I somehow felt as though I were in the presence of a movie star or some professional performer. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. There was just something about him—the way he carried himself, the straight posture he maintained—my curiosity was soon appeased when Monty divulged that he was a male dancer.

  Monty laughed at my raised eyebrows—my surprised look.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a male dancer in action,” he leaned close to me. “I hear you and Tim once had a ménage a trios with one.”

  I hadn’t forgotten the incident.

  I had just locked it away in my mind—never to be dredged up again. After all these years, I still hadn’t understood why I let myself become involved.

  “Oh look, Tim. He’s blushing,” Monty continued.

  I felt his hand in my lap suddenly, feeling my prick.

  “And he’s got a hard-on!” he exclaimed in a whisper.

  I pushed his hand away—but I really didn’t want to. I picked up my drink and downed the liquor in one big gulp—at a loss for something sane to say. I caught the look Tim was aiming at me from across the table and my senses reeled out of control. I raised one hand and summoned the waiter, ordering another drink.

  As I returned my gaze to the pair, I realized I had lost my appetite—for anything except sex with one or both of them. The realization caused my prick to cream. I felt my shorts become wet. God! I was turned on!

  “You should come back to our room,” Monty put his hand back in my lap.

  I sucked in a quick breath and grasped his wrist.

  “Keep your hands to yourself, Monty,” Tim said with a chuckle.

  “What are friends for?” Monty cooed, his eyes clasped to mine.

  I repositioned my body in the chair, ridding my lap of Monty’s hand and crossing my legs—trying to hide my erection. I hadn’t agreed to meeting Tim and his friend to have sex with them—though my mind burned with the thought.

  “How have you been?” I managed to ask Tim.

  He gave me a wide grin. “Very well. How have you been?”

  “Great. Just great. Business is good. I just bought a house.”
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  Tim nodded his head. “Wonderful. I finally got that Ferrari I’ve been dreaming of.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “Fellas, fellas!”

  We both looked at Monty.

  “Stop fucking each other with your eyes—let’s go back to the hotel room and have a reunion.”

  Excitement for what might be gathered in my gut. I stared across the table at Tim.

  “He’s right, you know,” Tim said. “I’m sitting here, looking at you, remembering how your body felt, wanting you…”

  I nodded my head.

  “Yes.” I was unable to think beyond agreeing with him.

  Suddenly it was clear to me. We left the restaurant and within minutes arrived at the hotel. We rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, quietly, exchanging lusty glances. Momentarily we were in the room, taking off our clothes.

  I pushed aside thoughts trying to surface about Tim and Monty being an exclusive couple. Maybe it was my own insecurity about who I was, what I wanted out of life. They had in no way, given me the impression I was intruding on their privacy.

  I reached out and touched Tim’s chest. His skin was smooth; barely a trace of dark brown hair spanned the distance between his male nipples. He smiled and reached his hand to my chest; trailing his fingers down to my stomach, then lower to my erection.

  His touch made me suck in a quick breath. So many times over the years, I dreamed about him, touching him, having him touch me. I felt Monty at my back, felt his heat moments before his palms met my butt cheeks. Without warning, he pushed his erection between my cheeks and drew my body back against the warm length of his. He brought his hands around to my rod and twined his fingers around its rigid length. He chuckled softly in my ear as his fingers melded with Tim’s on my staff.

  I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven.

  I stood sandwiched in between these two hot men, one I had true feelings for, needed to be intimate with, and the other, as close to a professional sex machine as I’d ever get to know.

  Monty’s body was firm and hot at my back. His rod pushed against my balls, slid between my legs to meld with my tools. Monty’s fist was doing a job on my prick, making me think about coming when Tim smiled at me and dropped to his knees. He opened his mouth and sucked my cock inside at just about the time I realized what he had in mind. It was all I could do to keep from yelling out my delight. Years ago we had sucked on each other’s pricks—but we had both drank too much and couldn’t look at each other the next morning. Now it was different. We were older, mature professionals. Now we knew what we were doing. And we were doing it because we wanted to, not merely because we suddenly found ourselves alone in a dark dorm room with mutual hard-ons.