I
(edited version)
I’m a Daddy – to wit, an older gay man, a mentor, experienced but not jaded, with bits of silver hair on my head and in my mustache and beard. I often click on profiles of men from the United Kingdom on a dating app for admirers of daddies because English, Scottish and Northern Irish boys may look innocent, but they drip raw sexiness and aren’t afraid of kink. Yep, UK lads are dirty lads despite their choirboy looks, and they’ll do about anything you tell them.
Roger’s profile caught my eye, He had the looks I like and a photo of his bubble butt clinched it. I was disappointed that there weren’t any pics of his uncircumcised penis because you can take this to the bank: Brit boys don’t get cut by the Saracen blade when they are newborns.
I woofed him to compliment him, then sent him a text asking for a photo of his dick, although I didn’t expect he’d oblige. To my surprise, I got a message back saying how sexy he thought I was, that he liked my Italian looks, that my profile was interesting, that I could stay with him if I visited Manchester, or he would come to the States if I wanted to meet him in person. He also sent a photo of his beautiful cock, with the requisite skin covering the head.
More chat ensued and I invited him to my winter place in Fort Lauderdale, told him we’d do the gay beach, all the restaurants and I’d show him off to my friends.
I sent him a plane ticket and a few days later picked him up at Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood Airport, a little surprised that this was happening. On dating sites one never knows when talk is talk and walk is bullshit. But here he was piling his suitcase into my trunk and we were heading to the gay enclave where I live.
On the way, Roger confided that he was dying to get fucked – he hadn’t in a long while —and could we do it when we got back to my place?
Jesus H. Christ. He was forcing my hand; not that I didn’t want to fuck him, but I needed him to have a few margaritas before telling him about The Pact. Before I had a chance to get him and me a little drunk, I’d have to reveal the agreement that would keep us from having sex until it was satisfied. I got to the point:
“Roger, I want to fuck your “arse” (as Brits call it) more than anything, but I made a deal with three of my best friends and I have to honor it. You’re going to think The Pact is a little weird, but here it is: If one of us meets a new buddy, he can’t fuck him until the other three have had him first. I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t know how you’d react and I was embarrassed. Please don’t hate me.”
Roger was quiet for a few minutes while I squirmed in my seat. Finally, he said with some anger, “You think The Pact is a little weird? How about a lot weird. Why would you make an agreement like that? I’ve never heard a dumber thing in my life.”
As we drove along for about 10 minutes and he had cooled down he said, “I’ve thought about it. “If that’s the only way you and I can fuck, I’ll manage the weirdness. But it’s going to cost you (more on that later). I’ve come a long way to have sex with for you.”
I was greatly relieved, but had one more bit of jarring news. I might as well spit it out.
“By the way, Roger, the three friends I made The Pact with are coming over tonight to get it done,” I reported sheepishly. “I hope that’s OK with you.”
“By the way?” he said loudly with irritation in his voice. “By the way? How casual of you. Why don’t you say, “By the way, my three friends who you haven’t met are going to fuck your ass tonight because I made this stupid agreement with them and they have to fuck you before I can. Isn’t that what you mean.”
“I slumped in my seat, wondering what to say. He was right about my being too casual about thinking he’d be fine with it. I felt like a creep, but what could I do this late in the game? I wanted to make things right as much as possible.
“Tell you what, sexy — I hoped flattery would help — I’m sorry about this. I plead guilty to being a dickhead. We’ll get this over with as fast as possible, then what can I do to make it up to you.”
For the first time all evening Roger smiled.
“For me to agree to this, you are going to buy me fancy dinners every night I’m here. I need some new Speedos and designer underwear. I saw this BDSM store that sells leather jackets and gear. You are going to buy whatever I want. And some toys.”
I deserved a hit to my credit card for getting Roger into this entanglement. “I agree to all of those,” I said. “I was afraid you were going to ask me to drive you back to the airport.”
The doorbell rang at 8 p.m. sharp. Fortunately, I had several six-packs in the fridge. I needed a beer and wanted Roger to imbibe one also to lessen his anxiety (and my guilt).
He was nervous as I brought him out of the bedroom shirtless in his tight Levis. The elastic band of his Bike jockstrap rode above his belt, meeting his lush brown-haired treasure trail. My friends were instantly impressed by his looks, toned body and pink nipples.
“Good job, Pete, he’s handsome,” Ted said. Yes, he was with his radiant skin, full lips, dark eyebrows and blue eyes.
“He’s a beauty,” said Frank, who was known for salivating over pretty boys Roger’s age, which was 32, and younger.
“That’s beautiful fur on your tummy,” Jim opined. He couldn’t stop staring at Roger’s pelt that climbed out of his jock up to his chest. He was going to go first. I’ll explain.
My buddies grabbed Roger and pushed him face down onto the quilt I had laid out on the carpet. His arms were pinned behind his back and handcuffs were snapped on. I felt sorry for him because it was happening so fast and he looked frightened. He hadn’t signed up for having his ass fucked by three strangers while I watched. As guilty as I felt, my cock was hard in my Jockeys and the voyeur in me wanted to see how this would play out.
Jim was a slender 6-footer, perhaps 155 pounds, with a smooth chest and body. His legs were covered in blondish-brown hair. The reason he was going first was that his dick was the smallest of the three. I insisted that he break in Roger, although Jim was hardly small. About 6 1/2 thick inches with a fat mushroom cap overlapping the shaft in a way that made one beat the drum for cut cock.
He was the best looking of them, so I was hoping his looks would turn Roger on and get him past the first obstacle.
The others held him down while Jim unbuckled Roger’s belt and pulled his jeans off — too roughly, I thought. — Roger’s plump white ass peered out from his jockstrap for all to see. A generous amount of dark hair sprang out of Roger’s crack.
Jim ripped off Roger’s jockstrap — again too roughly — opened a jar of Lube and lathered his dick. I thought he might smear some on his hole; instead he pushed his butt cheeks apart and buried his tongue inside.
I knelt in front of Roger and whispered that the night would go by fast, then we’d be free to do anything he wanted. I mentioned how much fun we’d have shopping for the stuff he wanted. I was trying the art of distraction. I also promised that the guys would be gentle – I lied – but I needed to spin it for my conscience’s sake.
Jim took off his shirt, jeans and boxer-briefs and out popped his hard dick. He kneeled behind him and rubbed the tip along Roger’s hole for several minutes, but made no effort to penetrate him. Frank, who was next in line, got anxious.
“Jeezus, Jim, would you quit fiddling around and get your cock inside him. What’s the matter with you?”
Jim was not to be rushed. “Shut up, dickhead, and wait your turn.”
Finally, the broad head of Jim’s dick entered as he slapped Roger’s buttocks hard — too hard, I thought — and in less than 10 seconds, his entire cock was inside. Roger buried his head in my hands in some discomfort. Jim pulled out, looked at Roger’s gaping hole, shimmied his hips and plowed back in, declaring how tight Roger’s hole was.
By this point my nerves were frayed.
I thought Part 1 of this three-act drama was over when Jim let out a monstrous pleasure moan and shot his spunk inside. But Jim didn’t leave his nesting spot, just pushed his face in Roger’s crack and stayed there.
Frank had had enough. He got up, grabbed Jim by the shoulders and yanked him off Roger, tossing him aside. I was afraid Frank would punch Jim in the face, but he retreated to the sofa and grabbed another beer. Jeesh, what a hot ass will do to a guy.
Frank was a bully, to be sure, although Jim had provoked it. He was Jim’s opposite in the looks department — a burly 5-7, broad-shouldered, close to 200 pounds with a muscular body and thick thighs. He had standard Middle Eastern looks – his parents were from Saudi Arabia – olive skin, curly black hair, a large curved nose and black eyes that burned fire. His chest, stomach and legs were covered with hair and, although he waxed his back, there was stubble on his shoulders. A forest of hair covered the cheeks of his butt and hair ran up his crack to a patch on his lower back.
He took off his T-shirt, boots and Levi’s and preened in front of us, obnoxiously flexing his muscles. No surprise that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Even soft, his dick was impressive – not long, perhaps 5 1/2 inches. He had what you’d call a beer-can dick. Thick black hair covered his groin and stomach reaching up to his chest. His body glistened with sweat. Of course, with his being Muslim, he was circumcised, with an impressive helmet topping the shaft and pushing out of his pubes. He was proud of his equipment — too proud — as he bounced it around for us to check out.
Frank wasn’t much for preliminaries or finesse either. He aimed the gigantic head at Roger’s hole and in one quick motion pushed the whole thing inside. Roger groaned in pain. “Damn you, Frank, go easy on him,” I said, raising my voice, and was ignored. I wrapped my arms around Roger’s head, trying to comfort him, but what could I say?
Luckily, Jim had loosened him up and his cum served as needed lube. As Frank worked his dick in and out and gripped his neck, Roger had a surprising satisfied look on his fave. It was obvious that Frank’s physicality and fucking turned him on. He pushed his ass back into Frank’s pelvis and moaned as Frank plowed him. I felt a little jealous that Roger liked what Frank was doing to him.
Unlike Jim, Frank was a loud fucker, bragging about how sexy he was, how his cock had satisfied legions of bottom boys, how they couldn’t resist him. Myself and the other two had no interest in hearing any of this. We just wanted him to jizz in Roger’s ass, pull out and shut up about his alleged magnificence. Of course, Frank had to update us every 10 seconds about how great Roger’s butt felt and how close he was to coming.
Presently – too soon, I thought, for this supposed macho stud -- he arched his back and squealed as his cum filled Roger’s hole.
Frank pulled out just as he had entered – roughly. His dick head was covered with Roger’s ass slime, his own cum and some of Jim’s. He headed toward Roger, rudely pushed me out of the way and took my place. He pulled Roger’s hair harder than I would have liked and imperiously barked, “Clean off my dick with your tongue. I want you to taste your ass on my cock.”
Roger took this way too seriously. He went on too long, spit-shining Frank’s prick far more than was necessary and also sucking it all the way down to Frank’s pubes and up again, which was not what he had been asked to do. I’m usually not prone to jealousy, but Roger’s enthusiasm for the sexy Arab-American bothered me.
Ted was up next. Unlike Frank, he was tall – 6-3, pale, with reddish blond hair, light blue eyes and freckles. He looked like the quarterback on a college football team – lanky, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, a little goofy. His toned chest had just the right amount of hair.
The US is a melting pot of cultures, and Roger was going to sample several kinds in that pot — Jim was Irish, Frank Arab and Ted Polish. Yours truly was Italian.
Ted was also Frank’s opposite in the dick department. Unlike his short fat one, Ted’s was long – very long – 9 inches and slender. It was topped by the longest foreskin I have ever seen, which hung three inches down from the shaft. No wonder the circumcised guys at the gym couldn’t take their eyes off him in the shower. They watched with laser intensity as he tugged on the taffy-like skin, rolling it back and forth, cleaning it with soap while making guttural noises. For those who love foreskin, he was a gift from heaven.
Ted pulled his dick out of his jock, yet didn’t head toward Roger’s butt. Instead, he announced that he wanted a proper blowjob. Frank and Jim hauled Roger up from his prone position and put him on his knees. The handcuffs behind his back stayed on. Ted decided to play teacher, advising Roger on how to suck a foreskin, which was ridiculous given that he had one of his own and must have handled dozens of uncut guys in the UK.
This was not going to be a quiet blow job. “Ya know, kid, I haven’t showered, so my cock is rank. Smell inside my foreskin. It’ll make you crazy.” Then he stretched out his skin and wrapped it around Roger’s nose. I had to give him points for creativity.
“Breathe it in,” he barked. “I bet you’re like all the other stinky-dick English boys I’ve met who other guys with stinky dicks. Now chew on my overhang, but not too hard or I’ll spank you.”
“What the hell has gotten into Ted?” I thought. I had never seen him so nasty. He had always been a nice guy. Jim and Frank looked amazed, too, at the transformation.
The orders kept on coming. “Pull my foreskin all the way back and suck the head. If I feel your teeth on me, you won’t like the punishment.”
Ted had turned into a sex-crazed General Patton.
I couldn’t wait for this evening to be over, but Roger seemed unbothered by Ted’s tough guy act. He was rock-hard, which prompted me to head downward and wrap my lips around his cock.
Ted didn’t mind at all. “Good idea, Pete. You can suck him off while he sucks me off. Let’s see who comes first.”
Watching Roger bottom for Jim and Frank and pleasure Ted with his mouth made me eager to have him for myself.
Ted dragged out the evening — it was closing in on 11 o’clock — by upping the ante. “Let’s see how much of me he can take of me without gagging.”
He fed Roger 4 inches with no problem. “Let’s try 5,” he was counting. “Good boy. He’s ready for 6.” When he got to 7, I stopped sucking him because I wanted to see how many inches Roger could take.
“I’m strongly advising you to open up, little man.” Ted warned. “Because I am going to force you to take all 9 inches of my Polish sausage down your throat.”
Was that really going to happen? Roger was already well past my limit. When at 8 inches Ted saw him gagging and his eyes bulging, he held a bottle of poppers under his nose. His 9 inches disappeared down Roger’s throat with no gagging. It was something to see.
Even Ted was surprised. “I haven’t had many guys who could take the whole thing. Now I’m ready to come, but not down his throat. I want to jerk off on his tongue, so I can see my cum spurt out of my foreskin.”
“Open wide and stick out your tongue,” Ted ordered as he jerked the skin back and forth. “Keep your head still. I’m almost there.” A massive load erupted onto Roger’s tongue that, foreskins being foreskins, missed its target and sprayed cum all over his face.
Ted used his cock to rake the cum on Roger’s face into his mouth. “Swallow,” he ordered. The giant load slid down his throat and into his stomach.
I thought the evening escapades were over, but Ted wasn’t finished. “Clean off my dick, lad. I’m not putting it back in my jock until you’ve cleaned it completely.”
Roger licked up every molecule.
My Brit boy’s ordeal was over, although some of it didn’t seem like such an ordeal. Roger seemed to be having a great time during most of it.
“This one’s a firecracker,” Ted said, nodding his approval. “The best one we’ve had since we made The Pact. I wish I could watch you two fuck. Maybe we can arrange something before he heads back to the UK.”
Fat chance, I thought. He and the others had all of Roger they were going to get.
It was my turn to speak. “OK, guys, we’ve honored The Pact. Time to leave. Roger and I need some alone time.”
They nodded, chugged down the rest of their beers, grabbed their backpacks, and headed for the door.
“Thank you, that was amazing,” Jim said. Frank winked at me and blew a kiss at Roger. Before he closed the door behind him, Ted had something to say.
“Roger is super hot and thank you for sharing, Pete, but he didn’t get my 9 inches up his butt yet. That's a condition of The Pact.
“I’ll let you fuck him tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow to close the deal.”
