Freelancer writer "Kevin," a proud member of the "Bears with BBCs Club," speaks on how he and his husband, Greg, get hold of "Andrew," the state's number one manslut.
The most modest men tend to be the freakiest ones. Greg and I learned this more so when we planted our lives in New Hampshire, with him taking a promotion within his company, leaving D.C. for the quieter space. We came across Andrew, a hot shot general manager of a dealership, with his bubbly personality as leader of one of the state's most successful dealerships.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I've been in the business for over 40 years. I can't sell you a lemon if I wanted to," was his slogan, as he constantly barked on television ads.
Greg and I were laying in bed on New Year's Eve as we were both off for the week, just lounging, naked and trying to find a playmate when Andrew's profile popped up.
"I'm in Londonderry," he told me as I was the one who spotted his profile.
We were only 10 minutes away in our home as Greg and I posed questions.
"I'm married to a woman, and she knows of my cock cravings," said the 67 year old.
We switched from messaging on the hookup app, to Skype, with us getting a better glimpse of that broad smile.
"Oh man, two black hunks," he said as he saw us laying side by side.
"That's right. And we both will nut all over that mustache," Greg told him.
"Well, wouldn't you know I'd rather swallow than get a facial? No sense in wasting good milk, right, son," he asked.
We both licked our lips at the suit donning chub. He was in his office with the door closed, getting us both hot and bothered while discussing who, would do what, to whom. Andrew turned me on more for he epitomized the "All-American" type, one who seemed to kiss babies, and speak to old people and advocate for peace. I could tell Andrew never raised his voice except to cheer or encourage others, and didn't have an adverse bone in his plump body as he seemed a joy to talk to.
"I'm a good guy, but I'm bad in bed," he told us.
"How bad," I asked as Greg and I smiled, then tongue kissed in front of him, trying to entice him to come over.
"Oh, you two are some nasty fuckers," he told us.
And we were, but I explained that it took another to recognize, and judging from his profile, no one came nastier.
"Cock sucking, ass and balls licking slut," I read out loud. "That's your M.O.?"
"All that and more. I tend to like a cock up my ass every now and again," he said in his northeastern accent. "I'll bet both of those cocks are raging right now."
I got off the bed, and Greg would follow, and position the phone beside a pillow, with me and my partner standing side by side.
"Damn," Andrew said as he began salivating.
"Your name is the "Married Cocksucker," I said to him.
"Yes, because that's what I am, and this was already established," he said to me.
"And I noticed one of you guys likes to write naughty stories? Which one of you is Kevin?"
"He's Greg, and I'm Kevin," I told him as I smiled at him reading my profile.
Andrew admitted that's what drove him to inquire, vice the advertising of my body. I messaged him links to some of my works.
"If a man can write about how he wants his cock sucked, or how he'd drive it into another man, then I want every part of him," he told me.
"Well, we both have skills, because both of us have rampant thoughts," Greg added.
"When can I confirm this? My schedule is about to open up if you two can host," he answered.
"We can certainly host. You got some time today to come over," Greg asked.
The hubby, another black top like myself, was just as eager as we both were hungry and horny for a juicy encounter. He and I often tagged bottoms together, and never really engaged in our sex ourselves as that was just a part of our makeup. At six foot four, 270 lbs., we mirrored each other in stature, but differed in age as he checked in six years my senior at 48, and our skins tones weren't the same as he was slightly lighter, making us a caramel and dark chocolate connection.
"I get off at noon. Can be over there at 1 p.m.," he told us. "Just need to be home before five."
That was perfectly fine with us as we climbed back in bed and under the covers, and stroked ourselves as we were elated to lock down the polar bear.
We hung up, then the both of us took showers and had a quick, small breakfast before climbing back in bed, watching television and playing with our phones. Time would fly, and before I knew it we were getting dressed when our doorbell would chime.
"Midday cocktail," asked Andrew as he appeared at our door, smile wider than the street with a bottle of Larceny scotch in his right hand.
We hugged him, then brought him inside before walking down our hallway to congregate in The Cave, Greg and I's "secret space."
"An interesting space you guys have," Andrew stated as he witnessed the sling in the back, a queen sized bed, and a wall with various sanitized toys we'd use, if warranted.
It was also a place where we prayed, watched movies and sports, or meditated as at times, we tired of each other and wanted to have distance. There was also the custom made bar with Washington Wizards paraphernalia in the background, with plenty of spirits and chasers on its shelves, and the 75 inch flat screen in front of four recliners. The room was painted dark, for during the day blinds were open, yet at night, they were closed, and we would turn on certain lights depending upon the mood for illumination.
"This is our little hut," I said as I poured the scotch.
We took up three of the recliners, with us all kicked back, having an "interview."
We drank, talked, and though we were trying to get to know Andrew, it was clear he anticipated getting down and dirty.
"Sorry fellas. Just a little pressed for time," he told us.
I would kick things off by getting out of my chair, and walking over to Andrew as he sipped his drink. I stepped directly in front of him with maybe a couple inches between us.
"Since you in a rush," I told him.
He put down his drink, looked at me and smiled before pulling down my shorts.
"I am," he said with a chuckle, before he yanked my briefs and shorts down to my ankles, and I would climb out of both.
He put me in his soft mouth as he came out of suit jacket.
"That ain't take long," said Greg, as he was watching us from where he sat and became jealous, and naked, too.
Greg got up to stand beside me, then took his left hand to grab my chin to French kiss while Andrew was taking turns servicing us. I heard Andrew's slutty moans while using that tantalizing mouth to hug my shaft. His lips, his tongue and even throat combined to be such a wrenching force, with him twirling that head around so freely. Andrew was already a cute looking chubby slut, with those pink lips the highlight as this masculine car salesman was in "trick mode," just pleasuring us both on such short notice. Greg and I, too, sounded pleased as we traded loud whimpers between buddy below us blowing our cocks, and he and I engaged in such a frantic smooch.
"I think he needs to come out that suit, baby," I told Greg.
I wanted the plump Andrew to give up that rotund ass, that sphere with width and depth as it was the biggest organ on his five foot eight, 300 lb. frame.
"You wanna come out that suit," I asked.
"I would, but I'm afraid I'm not prepared," he told us.
He wasn't "prepared" in the aspect of getting fucked, and promised he'd return for a round two another time. I'd hold him to it, but in this instant, we took it to the bed anyway, with Greg and I laying side by side first, and Andrew at our knees.
"This is a fucking dream," he said as he was laying between us, taking turns slurping our shafts and taking us down his throat.
I pulled on Greg's nipples and we kissed some more while moaning, enjoying all of the session.
"You wanna make me cum first, huh," he asked before I sucked his tongue.
I enjoyed Andrew's antics, but loved my man even more, especially when he was enjoying our playmate.
"I always want you to cum first, daddy," I told him.
Andrew turned up the heat as Greg and I instinctively raised our legs, and Andrew took the time to ball wash as he went back and forth on our sacks. I'd then feel a tongue in my ass, and lost control of Greg's nipples as he would instead rub and tug on mine.
"Feel good," Greg asked.
"Yes, don't stop," I told him as I began to jerk off with Andrew rimming me.
I felt those mustache hairs on the bottom of my balls, and that added to the sensation as Andrew seemed to focus on me. I wiggled a bit to allow Andrew's tongue to land in different parts of my hole, and stroked harder, until my body wrought up.
"There he blows," Greg said, and Andrew lifted his head on time to ingest my spunk.
He squeezed my prick with his lips from shaft to base, and emptied me before I lowered my legs and he went back to Greg.
"Wait a minute," Greg said, as he held his dick at the base.
Greg took a deep breath, and I'd see him piss briefly before the repulsive Andrew would put his mouth to the tip and swallow it all. I was in disbelief, for I'd never seen Greg piss on and in someone. I kind of liked it, as Andrew burped after, and went back to pleasuring my man.
"Honey, I need a favor," Andrew asked. "Can you turn over?"
Greg did as requested, and laid on his stomach briefly before he arched his back, and ass upwards. Andrew spread my man's cheeks and rimmed his ass deep, then I'd see him suck on Greg's big, daddy balls as he pulled them to the back. Greg's reaction turned me on despite me being soft, as I was rubbing my dick trying to get hard again for a quick round two.
"He sucking them balls good," I asked.
"Damn good," Greg answered before Andrew sucked that dick.
He grabbed my husband's prick by the base, and began to siphon it from behind by waving his head back and forth. I would raise up to get a better view, and would see Andrew, as naughty as ever pulling Greg's entire package. He went back and forth licking, sucking, and even nuzzling everything until he focused on that fat stick. Like me, Greg had a long, black cock measured in the eight to ten inch length, with the only difference me being curved and veiny, and his straight, and darker than the rest of his skin tone. Andrew was relentless as he was pulling from base to tip, sucking that dick frantically until Greg would scream, and he milked my man from behind.
"Got damn," I said as it was a sight to see Greg collapse the way he did, and Andrew still latched on as he wanted to empty him.
"Am I nasty enough," Andrew asked after he just swallowed two loads. "We still got time to spare?"
It was only 2:30, and I was getting hard as I felt recharged, but we played it safe.
"I'm cooking tonight," he said.
"You damn sure cooked already," Greg said as his face was buried.
Andrew would get out of the bed and fix himself, pledging he'd return, and let us know when once he got home. Greg and I, reeling from such a good time laid in The Cave under the covers, both of us sipping a beer from the refrigerator, waiting on the text.
"Two weeks from now, that Saturday," he suggested.
We both agreed.
"Don't suck no other dick, or bend that ass over for anyone else," I messaged.
"I can't promise you I won't, but I will try," he told me.
I simply laughed, and looked forward to the next meet.
To be continued.