finding-my-tribe-4

Double Penetration

Subject: Finding My Tribe, Chapter 4 (Adult-Youth) This is a work of fiction. No resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended. Copyright reserved by author, 2018, 2019. 4. I’ve said that I felt deeply deeply conflicted over the following week, and indeed I did. Against all the old fears, however, I now had this to consider: my life didn’t FEEL ruined; not at all, and I certainly didn’t feel like one of the unhappy, self-loathing, outcasts, that gay men were supposedly doomed to become. What I did feel was that I’d found the kind of people I wanted to spend the rest of my life among. A tribe of my own that I hadn’t even suspected might exist. People who got me just as I got them. We weren’t strange or different to each other. On the other hand, I had long ago internalized the expectation that I’d someday marry and have kids of my own. Explaining to my parents and everybody else that this wasn’t going to happen was absolutely out of the question. I wondered if it would be possible to marry, have kids, and ALSO have sex with men now and again. These, however, were long term questions that didn’t have to be addressed any time soon. What was urgent, was my need to see Bob and Rick again. On the next Saturday morning, I left the house, found a pay phone, and called them. Rick answered. “Hi, Stuart!” he said, with reassuring enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you decided to call. Bob’s here with me and he says `Hi,’ too.” I told them how much I’d loved what we’d done the Saturday before, and also a little bit about my emotional state during the intervening week. “I was hoping I could come over again soon, if that would be okay,” I said. “We’d love that and there are a few more tricks we might. show you.” He paused for a moment to consult with Rick and said, ” Can you come over tomorrow?” I knew that my father was planning to spend the next day playing golf, which meant that my mother would probably head out of the house, too. I told Bob that I’d be over on Sunday afternoon and got off the phone before I’d have to put more money in it. The next day, I made up some cover story for my parents, got on a bus and headed to Manhattan. It wasn’t an especially long trip from my home to the West Village, but on that day every minute of the trip felt like five. When I finally reached their building, my anxiety level had risen again. This time, though, it dissipated the moment I walked into their apartment and was greeted with hugs and friendly kisses. After asking if I’d join them in a drink, Rick poured three gin and tonics and we sat down to enjoy them. I asked if they’d show me their private photo izmit rus escort album again. “I thought you’d never ask,” Bob said with a small laugh. As I slowly turned the pages, I went back into the same zone I’d been in a week earlier, which human voices barely penetrated. Slowly, I realized that Bob was trying to say something to me. “Huh?” I turned to him and asked. “You’d look pretty good in that album, yourself,” he said. “Want to see?” Even though this was long before the internet changed everything, and these were only Polaroids so there’d be no negatives, I was still a little uncertain. What if my parents found out? (But really, how could they?) Also, I’d already done more than a few things that they’d be horrified to learn about, so why stop there? The idea that other guys would look at those pictures and maybe react the way I did, began to have a strong grip on me. A shuddering feeling between my legs told me to do it. The alcohol quieted my anxiety. “Yes!” I said. “Attaboy,” said Rick, and then, turning to Bob, “Shall we get started?” They disappeared into the bedroom where Bob got some studio lights from the closet and a roll of white backdrop paper out from under the bed, while Rick got the camera and tripod. Meanwhile, I chugged down the rest of my drink as insurance against chickening out. They unrolled and set up the backdrop paper (now I knew what those small alligator clips dangling a foot below the ceiling on monofilament fishing line were for) and the tripod. “Want to start losing those clothes?” Rick suggested. “We’ll join you so we’ll all be naked.” Off came our clothes, which landed in a big pile on the sofa. “Are those my underpants you’ve got on?” Bob asked with mock indignation as I began to strip. “You disgusting little pig!” “You’re damned right they are,” I replied, “and you’re not getting them back.” I felt much more confident and comfortable now, and was learning how to give as well as I got. All those years of annoying my teachers with topical adolescent humor were paying off. Then we got to work. Rick and Bob carefully set me up in various poses. They’d move me a little this way, tell me to shift my weight a little that way, or sometimes just move an arm or even a hand. My cock was soft for the first group of shots, then they got me hard. At one point they turned me around to photograph my ass. Technical details were important too. They constantly adjusted the placement and direction of the lights until they had just the right contrast of light and shadow on my body. Film was expensive and they didn’t want to waste more shots izmit escort than they had to. All that painstaking attention to photographing me made me feel intensely sexual, more so even than I’d felt a week ago with the guys. What I’d felt then was a mix of raw horniness and delirious amazement at all the new things I was learning. This was different. Now, I felt that I had the same kind of erotic power over Bob and Rick as they had over me; and not just them, but over anybody who might see these pictures and gaze hungrily at my body. “How would you feel about some pictures with cum all over you?” Rick asked after photographing my ass. “If you’re okay with that, I’ll give you your first blow job so we can get the necessary jizz. We could also cum on you, so you’d look really disgusting with three loads all over you,” he added with a smile. I was okay with that. The guys unclipped the backdrop paper from the ceiling, laid it on the floor, and I got down on it, lying face up. Rick knelt next to me, bent over, held my semi-erect penis away from my belly and put it in his mouth. How can anyone really describe the first time he got blown? I don’t know if the vocabulary even exists for that. When Rick took my penis in his mouth and began to flick his tongue over the head of it, and over that ultra-sensitive little ridge of flesh just beneath the underside of the head, it felt as though the number of nerve endings in my dick had suddenly tripled and that every one of them was electrically charged. I was hard in an instant. My body went rigid and my back arched up slightly off the floor. I was powerless to stop myself from cumming very quickly, but I somehow had the presence of mind to remember that I was supposed to cum on myself and not in Rick’s mouth, so I warned him that I was about to shoot. He took his mouth off my dick, began to masturbate me, and within seconds jets of cum flew over my belly, onto my chest, shoulders, neck and face. A little even landed on the paper behind my shoulder. As I had when I came with Bob’s finger in my ass, I collapsed in a near faint from hyperventilating. Bob had been stroking his dick on one side of me all the while Rick was working on mine from the other, though I’d been too preoccupied to notice, and he was already hard. Now Rick took his dick in his hand and got to work on himself. I lay there watching them both. Just as they had the week before, both of their bones looked seriously big to me. Bob’s cock stuck straight out of his light brown pubic hair, was a little longer than Rick’s, and his balls hung lower; at least until they began to tighten up. kocaeli escort Rick’s cock was slightly curved, like mine, thicker and a little more massive looking than Bob’s. His balls were bigger and heavier looking too, which I especially liked. They gazed steadily into each other’s eyes the whole while they knelt on either side of me, pumping their hands up and down their shafts. The way they never lost eye contact made them seem so connected to each other. Without speaking a word, they each seemed to know just what the other was feeling. Bob, having gotten a head start, came first, shooting all over my belly since I’d already taken care of almost everyplace else. We didn’t have long to wait before Rick applied the final details to the artwork made up of lines and blobs of semen all over my torso and arms. Bob picked up his camera again, Rick re-adjusted the lights, and now Bob got back to work. Still on his knees while I continued to lie on my back with my eyes half closed, he took some close-up and medium distance shots to wind up the shoot. I went into the bathroom to clean myself up with a washcloth. By the time I got back the guys had laid the pictures they’d just taken out on the coffee table. I almost ran to them. I can’t say that I loved every one of them, but the good ones were a revelation. They showed me something about myself that I’d never suspected before. Never would have believed if anyone else had told me before. I looked at those photos and what I saw was a pretty good looking, sexy as fuck, young MAN looking back at me in a confident, almost cocky, way. I almost couldn’t believe that this guy was me. When Rick and Bob saw the look on my face as I went through those pictures, they flashed me those grins that I’d fallen so hard for when we first met. I was too shy to tell them just how it felt to see myself in those shots, but I managed to say enough for them to understand how surprised and happy I was. After a few minutes, Bob suggested that we get dressed, go out for pizza, and then come back to play for a while. My parents had been planning to go to an early evening barbecue at the home of friends, so there was no reason why I had to rush home. And so, out for pizza we went, into the warm dappled light of a late summer afternoon, past people out with their dogs, others carrying their groceries home, families eating ice cream cones, the three of us talking easily amongst ourselves like old friends, about things that had nothing to do with sex at all. I was as happy as I’d ever been in my life ________________________________ AUTHOR’S NOTES: Please join me in supporting Nifty in recognition of the unique role they play in bringing readers and writers together. Even a small donation helps. To contribute, go to fty/donate I welcome readers’ comments, for better or for worse. Please send them ail . Enjoy! Wilde

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