It was food truck Monday at the park inside our country club. It was also the night that the embattled new community internet provider was having a first direct Q&A with us residents at our park at the same time. Some might argue that there was an attempt to “go low” and to “be one with the many” who’d very nearly voted to overturn the contract our (former) board of directors bound us to without letting us know. We the membership didn’t overturn the contract the board lied at the special meeting and said there was a binding break-up fee for which we would have been liable. Too many idiots didn’t believe the few of us who could speak cogently to the economics and contract terms. So after the cancellation vote failed two weeks later we cancelled the board instead by holding a special meeting, proving they had lied (again), raised the vote, and won.
Yeah I’m pretty proud that I was the key instigator; I was one of the very vocal opponents from when it was first known. Binding the home-owners to pay for internet service from a sub-tier provider whether we consumed the service or not was just a terrible idea; but the now-former board did it, and the 49% who’d failed to overturn it now had no choice as that vote had been on the last day to legally cancel the contract. I had no choice with the rest of them so I planned to go to the meeting.
Kent had the car and was across town helping a sick friend. I’d chosen not to go citing a reason he saw through as a reason I had to remain home; the internet provider was having the “community open meeting.” The truth was that he could have gone to the meeting as well and probably more objectively than I could. And our truly sick friend was a bit of a drama queen; I’d heard all the exaggerated self-pity from her that I could take for a while. Kent knew that and being the perfect husband gave me a pass … and a promise of filthy fucking when he got home; that would be his reward.
Thus I had some time to myself to get good and horny with anticipation before Kent returned. I had plenty of time to go to that internet provider meeting on-time if I really wanted to; which I likely would out of guilt for making it the excuse not to go and spend time with our sick friend. I took a vigorous ride on my bike for a while through the country club to focus on something other than my aching balls for what my husband promised me when he came home. I rode like a demon as I usually did when my husband wasn’t there to fret over my heart rate. Four years now and no matter how many times the cardiologists said that I’m fine he still worries and tells me to save my cardio-exertion for fucking; of course he never stops during that to check my heart rate.
It wasn’t hot as it had been all summer; 86° when I checked my AppleWatch. The humid air passing over my sweating bare torso as I flew around the twisting streets didn’t cool me much. Truth was I love the heat; the heart meds make me cold all the time and the relentless sun and oppressive heat is more comfortable than being cool or cold for me. I’d seen another thing too when I checked my AppleWatch; it was time to hit the park’s parking lot and get a spot for the internet consultation before the place was packed.
I flew around the ring road to the country club’s park area less than ten minutes later. Surprisingly there were few people congregated and no sign yet of the internet provider’s promised tent. After a moment stopped in the beating sun and I realized two things: I under-estimated the humidity effect on the already blazing afternoon; and I was soaking wet from the short ride. It was truly baking out and all I had to sop my sweat was a dry-fit Nike tank I’d taken off five minutes into my ride.
I left the tank off stuffed it in the waist at the back of my shorts; I wanted to get whatever pathetic breeze there was. I got a few looks from people I didn’t know who were already at the food truck; my “racing stripe” down my torso from the multiple surgeries it took to save my life after the accident was hard to miss. I’m ALMOST at the point where I‘m not self-conscious about it … almost. I pushed my sunglasses up to the top of my head not caring about my sweat-dripping hair, turned my face westward, and faced the sun. Might as well join it as fighting it would do nothing but make me hotter; and I could relax myself as I basked.
My meditation was interrupted about five minutes later when an eye-catching new model BMW sports sedan roared into the lot. I don’t know much about BMWs now; my knowledge of my former company’s competitor from my decades with an auto dealer conglomerate which had 17 Mercedes Benz dealerships used to demand I was up on them. The semi-matte grey exterior over sexy styling of this model was as arousing as the grumble of the intentionally-loud exhaust. The handsome blond driving it had wrap-around sunglasses and reminded me of a Silva Thins magazine ad from my youth; even more arousing.
When the driver exited on the far side from where I was I could see he was tall with very broad shoulders and better make out a jawline sculpted for the big screen. I enjoyed the sight of him bustling to the sloped trunk, him removing some things and revealing small but evident sweat moons in his pits, and me enjoying his obviously-sculpted upper body in the form-fitting polo then him heading in my direction with a huge case, a laptop bag that looked stuffed full, and another bulging folder precariously carried. My dick enjoyed it too; and in my bike shorts where my dick was already obvious the only way to hide that would have been to yank my wadded-up tank top out of the back of my shorts and make a show of draping it over my crotch. I didn’t of course.
As he moved around his impressive vehicle he fumbled with one hand and the car responded by locking. I then saw his very narrow waist and long legs in tight-fitting shorts and a smart belt when he rounded the car and headed my way. His package wasn’t prominent and I wondered how his ass might be. When I looked again to his approaching face he was grinning and looking directly at me; whoops.
I confirmed my suspicion as he neared; the logo on that polo which stretched across a broad slab pec was Hotwire. “Here for the food, the Hotwire open meeting, or both? Or … ” he asked in an absolutely devastating Australian or New Zealander accent and very obviously looked me over and paused twice on my bulging crotch.
My dick throbbed and grew more in my Lycra bike shorts. Seriously Sherbourne? Cruising in the country club park parking lot? “All of the above,” I returned with a wicked grin of my own and a staged stretch to accentuate my own hard work getting back into shape despite my racing stripes scars down my again-toned torso. “I’m always attracted by the prospect of ‘or’,” I told him with a brazen wink.
In my defense my husband and I had fucked like rabbits on and off all day until he’d left … and the prior day. And it had been a few hours which my butt, balls, and dick were saying was more like days as they all wanted the games to continue. Could I hold out until Kent came home was the question. Of course, If I could bag this morsel and take him home for “dinner” with Kent … I thought to myself or my dick thought.
“I don’t throw out ‘or’,” he said with a one-handed air quote from his free hand and a long pause, “ … unless I see something that I’d kick myself if I passed-up and all I had to was the memory of a very appealing vision to whack-off to later.” He was looking down at my completely hard dick which was totally obvious.
I stuttered and did the absurd tank top snatch and drape as I struggled for words.
“Too late mate!” he said and had stepped to so close the hair on my chest was moving from contact with his polo under his prominent pecs.
“Careful or my sweat will get on your carefully ironed shirt,” I jibed him and made no effort to move back.
“Oh my man I certainly hope it does and gets on me!” he said soft and close and my entire body throbbed.
“I … erm … well I … “ I just stammered with my bluff being called so unabashedly it threw me off my bearings. In fact a brief breeze blew his freshly-showered and completely natural scent into me and I knew there was a wet spot beginning in my bike shorts.
“Me too,” he said with his face so close I could smell his mouthwash. Then he took a small step back and straightened after having bent his taller stature to be face-to-face with me. “But now I’ve got to set-up and take care of my customers. Looks like you’re number one … right out in front,” he added looking down and brushed my boner with the back of his hand and began walking toward the park pavilion. “Coming?” he asked with an even more suggestive grin over his shoulder.
He had no idea how close I was to doing just that. And the sight of a muscle magazine ass fully filling out his shorts as he stepped ahead didn’t help me in my Herculean effort to avoid that mess in my bike shorts.
“Oh and do me a favor and don’t put that shirt back on yet; I need the eye candy this arvo as much as you if you don’t mind my presumption.” I swear he jiggled his bubble butt-cheeks. Oh right I had my chest on display didn’t I. My disfigured chest.
I caught him up until we were beside one another; my bike was on the opposite side guided by my left hand. “I’m Al Sherbourne by the way. If I’m going to be called-out for ogling your ass I suppose i should introduce myself.”
His laugh was deep. “Josh. Josh Christopher when we get to the business. But it was heaps fun when it was just anonymous cruising there with promise.”
He stopped and reached his right hand out to shake. It was a strong and big but not huge grip considering his size. His eyes seemed to shine but I suspected it was just the afternoon sun. “I’d really enjoy something coming of this to be blunt. I could stop by after I’m done here. Should be nineteen-thirty or twenty-hundred latest. I’ll have your address by then,” he finished with a wink.
I wasn’t caught flat-footed by his brazenness that time; but I did have to compute the military time. “It’ll be my husband and me. He’s closer to your age … and build by the way.”
“I didn’t realize tonight would be my double-lucky night!” he said with a leer as we kept walking.
“And you just cruised the internet guy?” Kent asked me when I got home.
I’d seen the message on my watch when I was biking home that he’d gotten home. That was after the AppleWatch alert that one of the garage doors opened and another that there was movement in the driveway. As always Kent greeted me over-enthusiastically and made me feel like a teenager when he told me he’d missed me the few hours he was gone. Groping my butt possessively contributed. I’d asked about our friend, he’d given me the most concise but thorough recap he could, he asked about the internet, and I told him we’re signed-up and saving more than half when it’s installed. Then I’d mentioned that we were possibly expecting a guest.
“Truth be told I ogled him and he cruised me; blatantly, relentlessly, and irresistibly,” I answered him honestly.
Kent took hold of me and kissed me hard and ground against me on our double lounge out on the lanai by the pool where we’d ended-up. “Who wouldn’t?” he asked when he pulled away and left me breathless.
“This OK me texting u?” came the text from an unknown number. It was followed by, “- Josh.”
Kent and I were naked out by the pool after dinner enjoying the remaining heat and peace of the lake beyond. I showed him the text and Siri’d my reply. “Only if you’re texting to say you’re on your way over.”
“15 max” was all he replied.
The stunning Beemer arrived in our driveway six minutes later. We raised the garage door by the app when the other app notified us if his arrival. We went to the door in from the garage and called for him to come on in but he was already walking through. When he saw us that grin returned; we were always naked at home and he obviously approved.
“That’s what I call a ripper of a greeting. And crikey I won’t be walking out of here on my own after I’ve tackled those weapons!” he added giving both our dicks a grope. “Don’t make me wait mates!”
We took him in and game him a choice: “Outside by the pool if it’s too cool inside after you’ve been out for hours or in our big bed?” As I asked I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his smart well-fitting shorts. “And this is my husband Kent by the way; this is Josh the hot Aussie with the hot ass,” I told Kent as I pushed our visitor’s shorts over his ass and they fell. Commando.
I’d found out which Southern Pacific island during our time earlier when another resident asked him; why that was important in a contentious meeting about internet service I haven’t the faintest idea. Still Josh quelled the contentiousness with casual ease.
“Mmmm you have such good taste husband,” Kent said gazing at the coat of light fur on Josh’s perfect set of globes and feeling him up.
“You’re a dirty boy going to a business meeting without underwear,” I teased him.
“That’s where you’re wrong mate!” he shot back. “I’m squeaky clean and your tongue and cocks will prove that to be true. Unless you PENALize me for sweat; but you two don’t strike me as men who don’t appreciate a sweaty man with a sweaty cunt.”
Kent shoved him roughly over a slipper chair there in the foyer on the edge of the living room and was on his haunches with his face between the tall cable rep’s fuzzy cheeks in a flash. “Yeah matey!” our guest growled.
I moved around and took hold of his head and made to guide it to my lengthening dick. He steadied himself on the chair with one hand and took hold of my dick with the other. He looked up at me with a grin. “Now we’re really getting to the good stuff!”
He swallowed me and replaced his grip on my shaft with a handful of my balls and worked me to fully hard in no time. I held his blond head for balance and half-hoped someone would come up around our front walk and see us through our glass front door; Kent’s fine ass, Kent’s face in our guest’s fine ass and my dick obviously being sucked.
Right then Kent stood, smacked his lips, and wiped them dramatically with the back of his hand. “He wasn’t lying. And he was even thoughtful enough to wash that hole out with Listerine!”
Josh pulled off my dick for the first time long enough to ask, “Like that?” Kent answered immediately by leaning over him and pulling me in for a kiss. “Seems so!” he answered his own question with a laugh and went back to sucking me.
Kent pulled back and left me breathless. “You want this hole when it’s loosened up or do you want to make it easier for him and open him up before I take my turn?”
The cable stud again came off my throbbing hard-on for long enough to ask, “Does the hole have a say?” Then he raised up and looked at Kent’s dick which wasn’t quite fully hard and whistled. “Crikey that’s gonna hurt.” He wasn’t frowning when he said it.
He turned and dropped in front of Kent. He ran his hand up Kent’s muscles from quads to pecs with both hands and then came down to grip his dick with both of them. “You’ve both been graced with the extra large thrill hammers haven’t ya?” he asked. “And I thought Al’s stretched my gullet!” He pronounced my name like “ail” and strangely it turned me on.
It also turned me on to see him lick the length of my husband and to run his tongue around the huge head that always hurt at first no matter how many thousand times I’ve taken it. It took him time to swallow half of it with a struggle and then he gagged hard and wiped a ton of phlegm with the back of his hand soon after.
“It’s not something you can rush. I speak from experience,” I told him.
“I’m hopeful my arse takes your knob-jockery better then my throat!”
“FUCK!” I said not able to control how hot his accent and Aussie jargon was making me.
Kent deadpanned, “I knew what he meant.”
The heat rising in my balls wasn’t put off by his sarcasm. I went around the chair and pulled the cable guy up. “Come on.” I pulled him by the wrist toward the hall to our rooms. “Inside,” I said decisively. “Something tells me this one is loud and the neighbors may hear him howling. Kent laughed and followed.
”You’ve had me before?” Josh joked. Forgive me; must have been the dim lighting in whatever back room.”
In our sitting room I pulled him to and then pushed him toward the leather sofa. He crawled on with his ass up and out and forearms over the back.
“Lube?” Kent asked helpfully. Then he stepped in, ran his hand over his drooling dick-head and smeared it on Josh’s fuzzy hole and crack.
I did the same; it was leaking out of me pretty heavily and I worked quite a bit into him. Then I took up position and rubbed my head against his pucker and smeared more around. Finally increasing the pressure I pushed beyond his resistance and into him; inferno might be an accurate description.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he groaned very loud indeed. “Been a while since … “
His comment was interrupted by a louder grunt as I pushed half of me into him.
“FUCK!” He hissed when I’d stopped. He was making fists with his hands and his head was cocked up in a grimace.
Kent stepped in front of him and caressed his strained face. “It’s what you wanted,” he said tenderly looking down at him and then at me.
I held position and gave him time despite my husband’s silent cue for me to drive deeper. The bitch-boy’s body was still tensed including his searing-hot channel gripping my dick. I felt the slightest loosening of the tension in my hands on his tiny waist; then I felt it inside just enough to know I’d be slamming that hole soon enough.
“So big!” he suddenly said. “So bleedin’ big!”
I knew what ‘bleeding” meant in British slang and hoped it meant the same down under; blood isn’t my thing. Then it hit me that I’d thought “down under” when I was thinking about his ass and I chuckled involuntarily.
“Yeah mate laugh. But you’re not on the receiving end of a cricket bat up your arse-hole!”
“He’s a veteran of THIS monster,” my husband helpfully defended me and slammed his humongous hard-on against the side of our guest’s handsome face with a loud THWACK. He took the Aussie’s head and guided it to swallow his dick. “Speaking of my cock … “
His hole was tight and hot and had my balls churning. My husband holding his head and skull-fucking him with at least half his big dick and the gagging and whelps were additional turn-ons. When I was near the tipping point I slowed.
“Go on hon and fill that cunt,” Kent encouraged me. “I’ll finish him off after you.”
I make it a point never to ignore good advice. I ramped-up my pumping into his hole until again my thighs and groin were slapping loudly against him.
“Right!” Josh gasped breathlessly before Kent pulled his head back over his slimy knob. Then the bottom’s cries were guttural groans and rhythmic muffled yelps again.
I slammed into him hard a few last times as I felt the explosion overtake me from my balls and spreading through my body until I felt the cramp-like contractions begin; my seed shooting at what felt like Mach speed. “Nnnggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I groaned as I began to unload into him. “Ngh ungh ngh ngh!”
“That’s it! Pump him full of lube for me,” Kent said and roughly pulled out of his mouth and came around.
“Awww Jesus! Feels like gallons and so thick; impossible!”
Kent smacked his ass on the side hard. “My turn next!”
I pulled free with an audible pop and plenty of cum splattering out of his stretched hole. Kent aligned and shoved in without mercy.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah fuckin’ hell!” Josh yelled but Kent was all the way in and pounding him in no time. Josh’s yells weren’t protest but they’d become unintelligible soon enough after Kent started so who knew?
Kent suddenly flipped Josh over without withdrawing and scampered onto the sofa with him. “Fuck!” the impaled bitch-boy yelled. “Rearrange my guts why don’t ya?”
Kent had his legs over his shoulders pounding him hard and loud; he was doing just that. I got behind Kent and reached under until I had his big bouncing balls in my grasp and added to his stimulation.
Kent took that as a cue and began stroking Josh’s diminutively-sized stiffy.
“You make me cum while you’re ripping into me and I might just snap that weapon right off ya!” Josh warned.
Kent continued his strokes; in and on and just growled.
“Fuck mate I’m … “ he didn’t finish his urgent warning and began flailing about. I saw Kent’s expression match my own surprise. Then with a long deep grunt the bottom’s cum erupted in a long strong shot … and then another and another.
“Fuck he wasn’t kidding,” Kent grunted as the flailing about threatened to bend him to breaking while he drenched himself.
Fortunately between my playing with his balls, Kent’s thrusting, and Josh’s tightly-clenched muscles, Kent blew his wad in a cacophony of expletives and cries from the both of them. When the blasting was over the bottom had splattered his sweaty torso and Kent pulled out roughly and toppled sideways wedged in beside him panting.
I was still on the arm of the sofa where I’d landed and looking down at them as they both went soft.
“I won’t forget that anytime soon!” the man from down under said still breathing hard.
“Good!” was all Kent said between panting breaths.
“Might be my bung-hole stretched foot-wide and whistling in the wind is what reminds me. Crikey men you two are hung like geezers!”
“That’s why I married him,” I joked and Kent reached up with his big hand and tossled my chest hair.
I looked down at the two studs and had a moment of awe for how a middle-aged man like me could be this lucky.
Then I crawled over and forced my way in t between my husband and the back of the sofa; Kent wrapped his strong arm around me and sighed.
“I should make my hooroo,” our guest said taking note of our intimate repose. Or maybe it was because he was threatened with falling off the front edge of the sofa.
“You have somewhere to be?” Kent asked him and got his other arm around him. “Give us a bit of recovery time and we can … “ he said still looking at the ceiling.
My head snapped to Kent and I saw he was grinning. I didn’t know if he was challenging our cocky visitor or truly interested. I looked down and saw his dick was mostly deflated.
“Crikey!” Josh bellowed and then laughed. “Not so much! You offer me more of that and I might not be able to walk on my own!,” he said. “And who’s to say if you offer me more of that I might just stay on indefinitely.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kent said idly and I thought of our former third when we’d become a thrupple for a while. Jef had eventually partnered-up with another of our fuck-mates. Idly I wondered how a five-some with all of us would go.
“Your car makes our driveway look good,” Kent joked lamely.
“Josh didn’t get any dinner,” I reminded Kent. We’d eaten food truck fare I’d picked-up after the internet meeting before Kent was home and while Josh was having the one-on-one meetings with other residents. “Unless you grabbed some after the throngs left.”
“I’d be right done with some more beef boys!” Josh said and crawled up and took hold of Kent and sucked my flaccid dick into his mouth. “Dinner can wait.”
Our night was far from over.
