“Earth to Nick. You were telling me you were staying at the university over the Christmas break and were looking for work over the holidays.”
“Uh, sorry, Cliff,” I said. “I was distracted.”
We were walking across the front of the Edmon Low Library on the Oklahoma State University’s quad in Stillwater, Oklahoma, where Cliff Matthews and I were both sophomores—Cliff in the sports management program and I in sports media. Cliff was local, so he’d be here over the Christmas break anyway. My folks lived in Miami, and I saw no reason to go to Florida for Christmas. Besides not wanting to shell out for the trip, I needed money more than I needed sharing Christmas with my parents who were separating anyway. Christmas with them would be like being in a war zone and constantly being asked to pick sides. What I needed was a seasonal job. Cliff had mentioned he had one. I wondered what sorts of temporary jobs they’d have here in Stillwater.
“Distracted by what? That hunk over there?” He gestured toward a strutting god of a guy who had paused on the walkway leading to the Spears Business School and was rummaging through his backpack. I recognized the guy. He was a senior. He was a tackle on the OSU football team but, most notably, he was a state championship wrestler, OSU having a premier program in this, not to mention hosting the National Wrestling Hall of Fame on campus. Most significant was that he had the magnificent, heavy muscled body to go with the sport. I’d seen a couple of his wrestling matches. Body beautiful, meltingly showcased by sexy, form-fitting wrestling singlets. He really filled out the pouch of one of those. I definitely would not have minding going through the wrestling moves with him.
A guy’s body was what did it for me—if something was going to arouse me. I didn’t have all that much experience. I wasn’t an easy lay or anything—not normally—at least I didn’t see myself as that. There’d been a few beach parties in Florida where I’d gone all wild, but everyone was doing it. I didn’t think that meant I was easy—not usually.
“Yes, if you must know,” I said. I didn’t have to be secretive around Cliff. We both were gay, but we both were submissives, so it wasn’t a jealousy thing of looking at other guys. Cliff was more active in the lifestyle than I was, though. Stillwater was his home turf. I was still trying to adjust to going to school in Oklahoma. The signaling seemed to be all different here from Florida, which was openly beach candy territory. I wasn’t used to having to work at hooking up, not that I did a lot of that even in Florida, so I hadn’t done anything here, at least yet. “That’s Dennis Duncan, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“Yes, he sure is.”
“You two would make a knockout pair,” Cliff said in a voice that had a bit of edge to it when the topic of looks came up. I was said to have movie-star, golden-blond looks. It gave me stage presence. I did theater and the sports media program I’d gone into was just one avenue for me to put those looks to use. I could do younger roles, so I got parts that were teenagers but that the producers didn’t want to fool with all that paper work involved in employing a minor.
Cliff had a great body—from the neck down. He was always pressing me to go cruising with him because he said I’d attract the men and he’d ride their cocks. He was always joking about that, but under the surface, I didn’t think he really was joking. I hadn’t cruised with him yet—this edgy aspect to that was probably what was holding me back.
“You want to meet him?” Cliff asked.
“In the worst way,” I said. “I’ve been there a couple of times when he was being interviewed by the university radio. My sports media classes did some of those interviews. But I’ve never met him. It would be nice. It would be even better if he was a player. He’s got the body of a god; it’s the muscles that do it for me.”
“It’s the muscle swinging between the guy’s legs that does it for me,” Cliff said.
“That too,” I agreed.
Cliff laughed. “He is a player. He’s a power top. He’s hung and he’s a god in the sack.”
“Go on. Don’t tell me he’s laid you.”
“Why, yes he has. And he’s randy as hell. He’d chase you around this quad to get his dick in you if he had any idea you took cock.”
“You’re just making that up.”
“No, he’s told me that—about you.” That set me back on my heels. “Do you want to meet him?” Cliff asked.
I paused. Of course I wanted to meet him, but did I want to let my tongue hang out over that with Cliff? I didn’t have to answer that. I already was standing here with my tongue hanging out over the wrestler.
“There’s a plan there,” Cliff said. “You just said you wanted to find a temporary job over the Christmas break and wanted to know where I was working mine. We can combine plans. I work at an electronics store in town and I know they’re going to want to add on help for the Christmas rush. Where I know Dennis from is the store. He works there too. The store’s having a pre-Christmas party for its workers this weekend. Come to the party with me. I’ll introduce you to Jay and Jim, who own and run the store, and maybe they’ll give you a job. And if Dennis goes to the party, I can introduce you to him then too.”
It did sound like the perfect plan.
“Jim and Jay are players too,” Cliff added.
“They’ve both laid you?”
“It’s how I got the job.”
Now, Cliff definitely was easy, I thought.
* * * *
“Do you fancy that watch?”
I was standing by a display case in JJ’s Electronics Store near the corner of East 7th Street and South Main and admiring the Apple wrist watches. Of course I fancied it. One of the store owners, Jim Lewis, had tracked me down and put a hand on my back when he came up behind me. I had come to the office Christmas party with my school friend, Cliff Matthews, who worked here. Cliff was off by the Christmas tree in the front window of the store, the blinds on the windows now being down to give privacy to the party. Cliff was being consulted closely to the point of fondling by the store’s other owner, Jay Brown. Together, the men made up the “JJ” of the store title. Both men, probably in their late thirties, were good looking and belonged to a gym.
“Yes, of course I’d like to have a watch like that,” I answered. “That’s one reason I was wondering if your store was laying on extra help for the Christmas season. I could use some extra money to buy nice things. I go to the university with Cliff and he thought maybe you’d be hiring temporary help. I’m from Florida and staying here at school over the winter break.”
“You might not have to get a job to get that Series 6 Apple watch,” Lewis said. His hand moved down to palm my butt and I didn’t move away. He was sniffing my hair and I was expecting the come-on line of “You smell nice,” but he didn’t go there. I knew where he was headed, though. I can’t say I wasn’t flattered. “You’re so good looking, you deserve nice things,” he murmured into my sideburn. So, he did go there on a standard pickup line.
I was prepared for it. Cliff had said both of the store owners were gay tops and were forward about it.
I’d seen right off the bat this this was “that” sort of Christmas party. Everyone here was male, the blinds on the window were down, the booze was flowing, and the men were friendly, some of them already getting frisky although it was early in the evening. Besides, Cliff had already told me this would be a gay-male hookup party.
The wrestling champ dreamboat, Dennis Duncan, was here, wearing a red mesh athletic T above clingy black-satin pants and Santa boots and a Santa hat, but Cliff hadn’t introduced me to him yet. The hunk was inundated with young guys. He had his arms around the shoulders of two of them as he held court over by the punchbowl. I’m sure either one of them would have bent over the table the punchbowl was on for him if he did no more than signal that’s what he wanted.
But, then, would I be any different?
“So, do you think you’ll be hiring for the Christmas rush?” I asked Mr. Lewis.
“How old are you, Nick?” Lewis asked. I didn’t think he was asking just to determine whether I was old enough to hold down a job. I knew I looked borderline. I was a little short for my age and had a boyish look about me, my physique more willowy than muscular. That helped me both on stage and for the modeling jobs I’d gotten in high school back in Miami. I could look younger than I was and take on mid-teen roles.
“I’m nineteen—a sophomore now at OSU. I’m studying sports media and do some theater work. I think I’d be good as a salesman. You’ve got a lot of nifty electronics here. They nearly sell themselves.” I know I was a little gushy, but I’d had a couple of drinks already—strongly laced with vodka—and I was nervous. Lewis hadn’t taken his hand from my butt and he was pulled in close to me. Cliff had warned me that I might—no, probably would—have to take the man’s cock—and that of the other owner too—to get a job here. And still I’d come to the party and wanted a job.
Taking it wouldn’t be all that bad from either one of them. They both were good-looking and built and certainly no older than forty. I had, of course, engaged in some casual sex before—I’d been a beach boy in Miami, and there’d be a payoff to letting these guys lay me. I didn’t want them to think I was easy, though.
“Yes, of course, that’s how I got my job here,” Cliff had said matter-of-factly, like it was just the natural thing to do. And maybe it was close enough.
Lewis reached behind the case and took the Apple Series 6 watch out and put it on my wrist. While still holding my hand in his, his thumb folded under into the palm of my hand, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Try it on for size, Nick. You let me lay you and the watch is yours. I have to consult with Jay on giving you a Christmas season job here, but you get my vote—if you let me fuck you, if you’ll take my cock. Think about it.” He kissed me on the ear, and then, with a laugh, he slid away from me.
I answered that I hoped he didn’t think I was that easy, but Lewis had already wafted away from me. Blushing, I turned away to see that Cliff had waded in to where Dennis Duncan was holding court and was waving me over for introductions at last.
Cliff was very tactful—and helpful. He introduced me to Dennis and pulled the guys who were hanging on to him away to look at some new electronics that had come into the store.
“So, you’re Nick Miller,” Dennis said to me when it was just the two of us standing by the punchbowl.
“You say that like you know who I am,” I said. “I’ve seen you. I’ve been to a couple of your wrestling matches. Cliff tells me you work here. In sales?”
“Yeah, I work here. Not in front, though. I’m on the Geek Squad, working on repairing the stuff brought in—in the back. But I also take the photos.”
“The photos?” I asked.
“Yeah, this is a photo shop too. We sell the cameras and other photograph crap and there’s a studio in back. We’ll develop people’s photos for and enlarge them and stuff. We do anything from passport photos to, well, you know, more candid shots—and videos. And, yes, I know who you are. You’re at OSU—in the sports media program, I think. I asked Cliff about you.”
“You asked Cliff about me?”
“Yeah, you’re cute—and sexy. I’ve seen you running with Cliff. I asked him if you were like him.”
“Like him?” I asked. I was almost afraid to know what he meant by that.
“Yeah, whether you took it—like Cliff does. I do Cliff. I wondered if you let guys do you too. Cliff says you will, but he may just have been teasing me.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’m sure I blushed. He was saying all of the things I wanted to know he was thinking. But he said them out loud, and now that he had said them—or was maybe leading up to say them—it seemed really, really bald, like we shouldn’t be having this conversation. Like he’d think I was easy, that he could just lay me, do whatever he wanted with me, and walk off. Like I was some cheap rent-boy. He didn’t wait for me to answer, though.
“Cliff told me that you will put out—that you were a bottom—would take cock.”
That was the same phrase that Jim Lewis, the owner of the store, had used—would take cock—and I hadn’t flinched when he said it. By not saying “no” and walking away from Lewis, I’d indicated I’d let him fuck me to get a free Apple watch and a Christmas-season job. So, would I just give it away to this guy—to this gorgeous hunk I’d masturbated to at night?
“I’m not as easy as Cliff is,” I said. “I’m not just a casual lay.” The funny thing was that the summer before coming out to Oklahoma, that’s exactly what I’d been on the Miami beaches—a casual lay—as soon as I’d turned eighteen. I hadn’t gotten into the swing of things here at OSU yet, but . . .
Dennis laughed. “Nobody is as easy as Cliff. You’re a real good looker. Cliff tells me you’ve done some modeling.”
“A bit, yes, back in Florida. Just clothing ads . . . mostly.”
“Bet you’ve done some sexy pose shots too.”
“Not really. Some underwear and swimsuit shots, but—”
“Well, there you go. You’ve got the bod to do those.” He laughed again and put an arm around me. “Cliff tells me you’re trying to get a job here.”
“Just seasonal work—over Christmas. I’m staying here for the holidays rather than trying to go back to Miami.”
“You’ll definitely have to let Jim Lewis fuck you to get that job. I saw him putting the make on you just now.” And then, when I didn’t say anything—or show this was getting out of hand, since he had a hand on my butt just like Lewis had had before he told me he wanted to fuck me—he added, “Jay Brown will want to lay you too. Have you had black cock before?” I had, but I didn’t see the need to say so, and Dennis just kept on talking. “I didn’t have to do anything like that to get my job. Jay said I was a male pussy magnet here, so I got a job. Cliff got it by letting them lay him. You’ll have to do the same.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
“Which means ‘yes,’” he said, laughing again. “So, if you’ve done some modeling you have no trouble being in front of the camera, right?”
“I’ve done that, yes.”
“You want to see the photo studio. It’s in the back. Come to the back with me.” He put a grip on my arm and walked me to the back of the shop and through a doorway covered with a beaded curtain. Who was I kidding? I knew where he was leading me. I’d wanted to hook up with him. I was here to party. I meekly followed him through the beaded curtain.
I just didn’t want him to get the idea that I was an easy lay.
* * * *
“$300 for a sexy photo shoot, $500 if it’s done nude.”
“Are you telling me that you have money like that just to see me pose?” I asked Dennis when we got to the photo studio. The studio was tucked away in the back of the electronics store building. It was outfitted with a whole bunch of cameras on tripods, lighting poles, and various posing stations against the walls. It did have a place to take photos for passports, but it also had a studio bed against one wall and a chaise lounge on a platform on another. Beyond that room was a darkroom, so that all of the film development, cropping, and preparation for delivery were right here. Dennis even fired up a computer and showed me the subscription Web site where they downloaded the photos he then told me how much they paid the models to pose for. I wasn’t surprised to see that Cliff’s photos were there.
“What’s this action button for on the Web site?” I had asked. I asked about it teasingly because I knew what sort of photos and videos would be included there. He told me how much models were paid to pose partially dressed and how much nude, but not how much for “action.”
“Do you really want to know?” he’d responded. “You’d be interested in doing that?” But then, before I could answer, he addressed my other question. “It’s not my money. It’s Jim’s and Jay’s, but they take most of the profit too. They trust me in who to pay to pose, though. I know they wouldn’t object to it being you.”
“No, tell me. How much for the action shots?”
He laughed. “You told me you weren’t easy—not easy like Cliff is.”
“I’m curious. That’s different from being easy.”
“Not much,” he said. “Solo action can go to $700. It can go to $1,000 for action videos with me—or with Jim or Jay.”
“Jim and Jay do this too?”
“Most assuredly. I think that’s why we do it here in the store. Jim and Jay get a kick out of being videoed doing it. If it’s me, I get paid too. Don’t worry, though, if I did you, I wouldn’t charge you anything. You could keep the whole fee.”
“Charge me to have sex with you?” I said and laughed. God, he was arrogant. But I suppose he had every right to be so. “If I let you have me, it would be a Christmas present from me to you.”
“More likely from me to you,” he said. “How about it, though? How about posing for photos?”
“Here? Now? While the party is going on out at the storefront?”
“Sure. Why not? They’re probably all paired up now at the party and not paying attention to anything but each other. Over there on the chaise lounge on the platform. I’ll cover it with the white cloth, to be snow. Here’s a Santa hat and boots. The only other thing you’d need—for a while—are these red silk boxer shorts.”
“For a while?” I asked.
“You heard right. You are trying to get a parttime job here because you need money. You can start earning it now and have a good time too.”
“I’m not really that easy.”
“That watch on your arm. The new Apple Series 6. You didn’t walk in here with it on, did you? Jay gave that to you—or is going to give it to you and you’re going to let him ball you to get it—you’re gonna let him put his big black dick in you to get the watch, aren’t you?”
“It was Jim who says he’ll give it to me,” I said. “I haven’t met Jay yet.” Just how big was Jay’s dick, though, I was thinking.
“But you’re going to keep the watch, aren’t you? You’re going to let Jim fuck you.” He pulled his red mesh T over his head. “I won’t give you anything, but you’ll let me fuck you too, won’t you? Cliff told me you have the hots for me. He didn’t have to tell me, though. I can see how antsy you are for me to put it in you.”
We stood there, facing off, for a long moment. But who was I kidding? The man had the body of a god. I couldn’t take my eyes off his muscular chest. “Yes.”
“Shall we begin then?”
While he set up the lights, camera, and chaise lounge, I stripped down and put on the hat, boxers, and boots. He fired off a bunch of shots of me in various poses in these on the chaise lounge. Eventually, he came over, leaned over me, and took my mouth with his. His hand glided down my chest, across my belly, and worked its way under the waistband of the boxer shorts. With his other hand, he unbuckled and unzipped his pants and flared the fly open. He took one of my hands and moved it to where I was grasping his thick, long, erect shaft.
He had two video cameras running, capturing the scene from two angles. I was going to go for the $1,000 fee. I didn’t care. I’d been melting to Dennis for months, we were moving into the Christmas season, and I had to admit that this would be a present to me.
We were both panting, our bodies undulating against each other, moving into a rhythm and into position. He slipped the boxer briefs off my legs and I spread my legs and raised my pelvis. I brushed his pants and briefs down to his ankles, and he came down onto the chaise lounge with his knees between my thighs. I had his huge erection in my grasp and moved it into place while he put an arm under my waist, raising me into position for a deep slide. He raised my right leg to where my ankle was hooked on his shoulder and I was open and vulnerable to his penetration. His mouth was on my left nipple, feasting on it.
“Now. Now. Put it in. Fuck me,” I murmured.
The door to the corridor opened and Jim Lewis leaned into the room. “Jay wants to meet you, Nick,” his voice boomed out. He laughed. “Now would be a good time.” He’d clearly seen what was about to happen on camera. He also clearly didn’t care. “Get dressed and come on out and meet Jay.”
Dennis rose off me, pulled his pants up and buckled up, and went to turn the cameras off. “I know you want this job,” he said. “We can do it later.”
I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed as I dressed and went back to the party.
* * * *
Jim Lewis took me directly to Jay Brown over by the Christmas tree, while Dennis went to talk to Cliff, hopefully to tell him how pleased Dennis was with me. Brown was black, and a very good looking and muscular black. He was better looking than Jim Lewis but not any more muscular. The two made a very good pair, although it was obvious from the way they interacted with each other and others that they weren’t paired—rather they moved in tandem, both working to get the same thing.
Like Lewis, immediately upon reaching Brown, I felt his hand cupping one of my butt cheeks. Lewis, on the other side of me, was cupping the other one—the universal demonstration of possession, I guess. I wondered if they would fuck me together too. It was a foregone conclusion that they’d fuck me if they wanted to—and Dennis as well if we could get back to the level of arousal and impending delivery we’d achieved in the photo studio before Jim Lewis had come for me. I hadn’t been keyed up like this since I’d arrived at OSU the year before. I was ready to laid—and by more than one man, maybe even by more than one man at a time. Bring it on.
Had I had too much of the vodka-laced punch? Who gave a shit? Lewis squeezed my buttocks and I gave a shake of it in response.
“So, Jim tells me you are interested in working here part time during the Christmas season,” Jay said.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“We can dispense with the ‘sir,’ I think. Just call me Jay. I suspect we’re going to become very good friends.”
“I hope so . . . Jay.”
“Cliff tells me Nick has done some modeling,” Jim said. “Dennis already had him back in the photo studio doing a video.”
And very close to doing me too, I thought. I suppressed a giggle. Yes, I’d had more than enough of the punch.
“Ah, so Dennis has fucked you already in the studio, has he?” Jay asked, giving me a grin. The hand on my butt squeezed. I didn’t resist it. One of his fingers pushed between my mounds and found and pressed on my hole. I felt myself open and I didn’t resist the pressure there either.
“Not quite,” I said. “We didn’t get that far.”
“Yet?” Jay asked, giving another grin. Jay had a very nice grin. He was wearing a loose-knit T-shirt under a jacket. I could see through to the chocolate chest. His pecs were covered by an angel-wing tattoo, a circle around the nipples left bare to show quarter-sized dark-brown aureoles. His nipples were puffed out. He was ready for sex. I was as well. Again, I wondered how big he was built. There was the rumor about black cocks; so far, on a beach in Miami, that had borne out for me.
“Not yet,” I answered, closing out on whether I would have let Dennis hump me.
He went directly to the same question Lewis had wanted answered, couching it in checking on whether they could legally hire me. “How old are you, Nick? You look to be about sixteen.”
“I’m nineteen—a sophomore at OSU,” I answered. “Sorry that I don’t look older.”
“No, it’s great that you look so young. So, are you willing to audition for the job?”
“Audition?”
“On your back—for both of us, Jim and me?”
“I don’t want anyone to think I’m that easy,” I said. The finger at my hole pressed in. I didn’t try to move away from it. I turned my face to Jay, who was looking at me and smiling. He knew where his finger was and that I wasn’t resisting. I gave him a shy smile back. The pressure of the finger released, but then pushed in again—and again. I felt my butt muscles grabbing at it. I was almost disappointed when it pulled away, but then gasped and our eyes locked again as the hand went between my waistband at the back and my flesh, snaked down between my orbs, and now he was inside me with his finger.
“That’s a nice watch you’re wearing,” Jay murmured. “A new Apple watch, isn’t it? Jim is letting you try it out in case you’re agreeable to being nice to him and me?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered. The inference was obvious.
“So, you’d be happy to lay down for us in a tryout of a job here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ahhh.”
“Sorry, yes, Jay.”
“I suggest the van,” Jim broke in. He’d picked up on the game that was afoot and had his hand between the jeans material and my buttock now, as well. A finger moved over to my hole, already being worked by Jay’s finger. The two worked together to pull at the opposite sides of the entrance, stretching me open. My low moan was audible to all three of us.
“If you get this job, you’ll have to be able to make deliveries, Nick,” Jay asked. They continued working my hole together. There was no question that they were going to fuck me. “You’ve driven a service van before?”
“A van? No. Is it different from a car, though? I have a driver’s license. I can drive a stick shift, if it’s that.”
Jay put his lips close to my ear and whispered, “I can drive a stick too. I can drive it hard and deep.” I shuddered for him.
“So, let’s go out to the parking lot and we’ll show you the van,” said Jim.
“Now?” I asked, looking around. The party was still going on. A guy was on top of another guy over at the checkout desk. So, the party had moved to the comfortable, “whatever” level.
“Yes, now. I don’t think we’ll be missed,” Jim said, with a smile.
“Go to the parking lot with both of you?” I asked.
“Yes,” Jay said. “You want the job? You’ll go out to the parking lot with both of us . . . to see if you can drive the van? To show you how I can drive a shaft.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered. I was so keyed up I would have gone with both of them, whether or not I was auditioning for a job. They both were hunks—both fit, a hirsute white guy and a god of a black bull. All three of us were in high heat.
“And to let us drive you?” Jim asked, squeezing my butt. Just making sure in case I was really, really dense.
“Sure, no problem.”
“You been doubled before?” Jim asked.
“No, but . . .”
“Great.”
“You always this easy?” Jay asked, as he guided me toward the back of the store. “The van is out back. You got any rubbers, Jim?”
“I haven’t been with anyone for over a year, no,” I said. “Just in the party mood, I guess.”
“Cool. Forget the rubbers, Jim. The way I like it best.” Jay laughed as he led me toward the back of the store. Then for my benefit, he said, “No worries about either Jim or me. We both got checked for the party. I’m not assuming too much that you like it bareback, I hope.”
“No, you aren’t assuming too much.” God, I really was being easy. But I wanted it so bad. I was in high heat.
We passed Dennis humping Cliff behind a display case en route. Cliff was on all fours, his jeans and briefs down around his ankles, and Dennis, just in his red mess athletic T, Santa boots, and Santa hat, riding his ass high like a jockey. He was pulling nearly all out on the rise and slamming down on the descent, bringing a gasp out of Cliff each time. He even had a riding crop and was switching Cliff on the hips and buttocks as he rode him. I already had been going hard, but went all the way in seeing this. I wanted Dennis to ride me like that too.
In the back lot, at the van, I was headed toward the driver’s door, when Jim laughed and said, “No, we needn’t check that out. Back here, please.”
He opened the double doors on the back of the van. I came around the back and looked in. No surprise, really. There were some boxes pushed off to the sides, but in the middle, they had a black leather sling set up on chains hooked to the ceiling. Jay pulled me to him, taking me in a kiss and running a hand down the front of my jeans, reaching for and finding my erection. He unbuckled and unzipped me, flaring the fly of my jeans, and pushed his hand in. He took me into a close-hold kiss, and we rocked against each other as he fondled and squeezed me.
“Strip and get in, please,” Jim said. “Time for a job interview.”
“I’m usually not this easy,” I said as, naked, I climbed into the back of the van. My voice sounded slurred even to me. Yes, a few two many glasses of vodka-laced punch. And maybe too long without having gotten any. No maybe about that, but this wild and this many?
* * * *
The van doors closed and there we were. Jay moved around me and turned on a couple of low lights at the corner of the ceiling on the side of the van enclosure while pulling me forward and laying me in the sling, belly down. Jim, hovering over me from behind, stripped off his white dress shirt and it landed on the van floor next to me. Crouched over me in front, Jay pulled his polo shirt over his head. I drew my breath in and gasped at seeing the fully revealed angel-wings tattooing on his magnificent brown chest. I reached up and touched him there and let my fingers trace the feathering. He laughed.
“Like it?” he asked.
“Oh, shit, yes,” I answered.
“I’m gonna fuck you hard.”
I heard them both unbuckling their belts and unzipping their flies.
“I’m really not usually this easy,” I said again, it coming out as a whine, some sort of mantra that made me feel less like a whore, I suppose. I was panting, though. I really did want this. I looked up at Jay’s bare chest, muscular and covered in the angel wings tattoo—the fingers of both of my hands now playing on his pecs, rubbing his puffed out nipples. He had his cock out. He was erect and, adding to my impression of black men, hung. His dick and balls were almost jet black, a contrast with his chocolate body. Behind me, Jim was squeezing and separating my butt cheeks and fingering my hole. I grunted as he entered me, strong and deep. I raised and bent my legs, struggling for and finding purchase with the soles of my feet on the cardboard boxes on either side against the inner wall of the van. Jim was finger fucking me and kissing my butt cheeks.
“Shut up and take it, bitch. No more of this shy shit now,” Jay growled. We were into it now. He grabbed me by the throat with his right hand and guided his cock to my mouth with his left.
“Suck it,” he demanded. With a moan, I opened my mouth and he slid inside. He started to move in and out. Grabbing my wrists, he slid them up the chain holding the sling up and secured them high up on the chain with Velcro bands while he face fucked me.
Jay was kneeling behind me, his hands grasping my hips and his face buried in my crack. As he ate my ass out, he periodically slapped my buttocks on one side and then the other. As I gave Jay head, Jim rose up after a couple of minutes, stretched his body over mine, forced his dick inside me, palmed my pecs with his hands, and fucked me.
I grunted and gasped as he entered me and moved up inside, spreading my walls, stretching and filling me. It had been a long time since a guy had been up in there. Jim was thick. I panted and he groaned as, clutching my hips between his hands, he started to pump me.
I was royally fucked now. I knew this was only the beginning, though.
Pounding in my mind, nonsensically, was the thought I’m not really this kinda of guy. I’m not usually this easy. But these two guys weren’t having any difficulty getting what they wanted from me. God, I hope this job is worth it, I thought, but then, when Jim was finished for now and exchanged positions with Jay—much bigger hung Jay—and Jay unbound my wrists on the sling chains only for Jim to tie them again when Jay had turned me over, and when Jay put my ankles on his shoulders, thrust up inside me in a missionary and banged the shit out of me, I’d gone to heaven and I didn’t care if they gave me a job at all.
After they doubled me, Jay lying on his back in the sling, grasping my hips as I looked up at the ceiling of the van, and his cock buried up inside me, with Jim crouched between my thighs, with my ankles on his shoulders, and him providing the piston of the fuck, they let me out of the back of the van.
As we all redressed, Jay said, “What do you think, Jim? Shall we give the guy a job?”
“You gonna be this easy with us all Christmas season?” Jim asked me.
“If that’s what you want,” I said.
“But we know,” Jim said, “You’re not usually . . .”
“. . . this easy,” Jay finished for him.
They both laughed, but they gave me the job.
When we went back into the store, the party was still on. Dennis was finished with Cliff, who was nowhere to be found. I was flattered that the hunky wrestler broke away from the guys who were fawning over him and came to me.
“You up for finishing up that video we had started or did Jim and Jay wear you out?”
“I’m here and this is the night for letting loose,” I said. “Sure, why not?”
On the white-cloth-covered chaise lounge, with me on my back in just Santa boots and a Santa hat, my red satin boxers just having been slid down my legs, my right ankle on Dennis’s shoulder, his dick head resting at my hole, and two cameras whirring under the arc lights, I whispered, “You know, I’m usually not this easy.”
Dennis laughed. I yelped as he thrust up inside a channel still open from being doubled by Jim and Jay, and he fucked the hell out of me for the cameras.
