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Confessions Of An Escort--Part 9

by Sparky


Sleeping three to a bed can be fun, but it’s also a problem when someone tosses and turns. I don’t think anyone really slept that well, but somewhere just before 11 AM we all piled out of bed. Curtis said that he’d better clean up the disaster area, air the place out and throw the bed linens in the washer before his parents got home, probably around late afternoon or early evening.

The three of us were standing around the bed naked, sticky, splotches of dried cum, and morning piss hardons. Vince’s hands were suddenly busy with Curtis’ cock, but Curtis continued to strip the bed, saying there’d be time for more fun later. Vince took the cue and stripped off the pillowcases. I set about opening the windows to let in some fresh air. The blast of air was nice, but the summer’s mid-day heat spiked the temperature of the room almost immediately.

“I’m going to chuck these bad boys in the washer. You guys want something to drink? If so, follow me to the basement. It’ll be cooler there anyway. Vince and I followed him out of the bedroom and the three of us headed for the stairs. None of us was really hungry, especially after the early morning finishing of the pizza. However, we all were thirsty. We raided the fridge in the basement—no sodas—just beer. A brew would have to do. While Curtis was filling the washer, Vince grabbed three beers, opening them before offering. In one long swallow, he chugged over half the bottle, seconds later letting out a roaring belch. Curtis picked up his bottle and did the same, sans the belch. I took a healthy swig myself, not realizing just how thirst, or how wonderful the cold brew tasted.

Each of us killed the first bottle in a mater of a couple minutes. Curtis replaced them enthusiastically, and then suggested we play some pool. Vince wasn’t too keen on the idea, so we ended up playing darts instead. It was kind of comical after a while. Whenever Curtis’ turn was up, Vince would sneak behind him and play with his ass. This effectively ruined Curtis’ concentration and put him off his game. This was a good thing, as neither Vince nor I were as good as Curtis. It sure made things more interesting.

After about an hour’s play and two more rounds of beers, our dart game had turned into more a game of grab ass. The horsing around also had its effect on our schlongs, each of us being half aroused. Vince was the first to announce that he had to take a wicked piss. Curtis just pointed and headed into the washroom side of the basement and over to the drain that flanked the workbench and the refrigerator. Vince and I joined him at the drain, and we all let it fly. I could only think about last night’s pissing session, but didn’t say anything, being reluctant to admit to what we’d done.

Then Vince did something amazing. He stopped mid-stream, dropped to his knees, and told Curtis to hose him down, since the dried cum was itching. Curtis promptly directed his stream to Vince’s upper chest, then down to his dick, then back up to Vince’s head and face, while making piggy comments and “oinking” gestures. Jesus! Vince did nothing but acted like he was taking a shower (guess he sort of was). Then he even opened his mouth and caught Curtis’ stream. While all this was going on, I’d involuntarily stopped pissing, a fact that Vince noticed as Curtis’ stream trailed off to a trickle.

“Beer piss tastes pretty cool. How about you lettin’ me have a taste of yours?”

Not wanting to be a prude or anything, I just focused on my prick a bit, then let the rest of my load fly over Vince’s soaked body. I held off spraying Vince in the face, but when he sort of bent further down to catch the stream, I got the message and let him have it full force right in the kisser. He just lapped at it like a dog at water running out of a hosepipe! No one spoke until I’d finished discharging my load.

“Well, we could play “name that beer”, but that’s really not fair since I know what we drank.” I guessed this was some type of humor. Vince then got to his feet, and then ordered Curtis to his knees. To my surprise, Curtis just got right down on his knees and waited for Vince’s stream to strike his chest. I was getting a little worried, as I didn’t really relish this happening to me—especially not in the face or over the head. I figured that Vince would just finish himself off using Curtis, so I just watched. Vince was content to soak Curtis’ chest for a few seconds, then without stopping the stream, he walked around behind Curtis and began pissing on his head from behind, drenching Curtis from front to back and head to toe.

Apparently some of it got in Curtis’ eyes and stung. Curtis got up, trying to wipe his eyes. I’d been watching him intently, but Curtis was not having any part of drinking the stuff. Vince had cut off his stream momentarily when Curtis stood. He then took two steps and was pointing his dick at me. “Time to loosen you up a bit too.” And he let loose spraying my stomach and chest. This was a far as I was willing to go. I made it clear I had no interest in dropping to my knees, and Vince didn’t press the matter. Soon he ran out of juice, the danger had passed. Then he hugged Curtis and their slippery chests rubbed against each other while their dicks did a mating dance. This was wild—and my dick was hard immediately. They opened up and I joined in a group hug. The dried cum and tacky lube was now amazingly slick and it felt great.

One thing led to another and soon we were stroking, fingering each other’s asses, and then we took turns plowing each other, making variations in position and who was sandwich meat. The combination of the odors of piss and ass together with the ultra slimy slickness of our bodies was a fantastic turn on. I’d gotten over the shock at my introduction to what I learned to be ‘watersports’, and my dick throbbed harder than ever. It wasn’t long before we were ready to blast our loads. Vince let loose first, cramming his load up Curtis’ ass. And what a load it was, two streams of the stuff oozing out of Curtis’ ass as Vince continued to plow him even after he’d cum.

“Brian, you want sloppy seconds?” Curtis asked. At this point after watching, I would have fucked an open hole in a door! The sight of Curtis’ slippery ass was just too good to turn down. I stepped in behind him and rammed it home. Curtis’ ass was loose all right. I encountered no resistance at all, found myself buried to the hilt with my balls sloshing in the dribblings of Vince’s cum. It felt absolutely wonderful. I could feel and actually here the cum swishing around and the plunger sounds my rod made as it entered and withdrew. Yeah it sure was sloppy—and I felt like a pig in mud—but oh the feeling! I was so wrapped up in my own activities, I hadn’t noticed initially that Vince at positioned himself in front of Curtis’ cock and was blowing him like a Hoover on steroids. His voracious bobbings almost threw Curtis off balance, causing him to back up into my thrustings. This whole scene was now too much for me—I blew my wad into Curtis’ hole. Curtis was intent on his cock being serviced and stepped forward to reposition himself with Vince. As he did so, he caught me on the down stroke, pulling me cock completely out, which continuing to shoot, thus soaking his lower backside and butt cheeks (the cheeks were already a slimy mess).

Curtis arched forward and let out a guttural moan as he blasted his load down Vince’s eager gullet. Loud slurping sounds erupted from around Vince’s mouth each time he came off Curtis’ erupting fuck pole. Some of the cum was dribbling past his lips, down his chin, foaming as it mixed with his saliva. He was beginning to look like a rabid animal—foaming at the mouth. When he’d drained Curtis and licked any important amount of cum from his cock, Vince stood up, giving Curtis a sloppy kiss. Then he approached me.

Vince bent down and started sucking on my still hard prick. This couldn’t last, as I was just too sensitive, but he did lick me clean. I wasn’t about to join him in a kiss—knowing where my dirty cock had been—that was just a bit too much. Vince seemed to sense this and instead of pulling himself up, he just spun around and began to eat out Curtis’ sloppy ass. This was way over the top for me, but I found it to be provocatively mesmerizing to watch. Curtis’ ass was apparently super sensitive as he was groaning wildly. His cock was rock hard and shortly afterwards Curtis shot a small load—without even touching himself.

When Vince had finished, he stood up, but Curtis backed away a bit. Apparently he’d decided by this time that Vince was no longer Mr. Kissable! Instead he just told him he could kiss his ass. Vince did!

We laughed and decided a cold beer was in order. After finishing, it was now high time we took a shower. The three of us squeezed into Curtis’ shower and horsed around with the soap, etc. having good clean fun (for a change). We toweled off, and then Curtis headed back to the basement to transfer the sheets into the dryer. Vince and I began to put our clothes on. This somehow seemed a bit odd—I’d actually gotten used to running about in the buff. As we dressed, we started up quite a conversation.

Other than being a pig and an absolute sex slut, Vince was a pretty intelligent and convivial guy. I was beginning to feel comfortable with him and actually like him. What had initially been the makings of a wedge between Curtis and I was becoming something positive. A further positive reinforcement came a few minutes later as the subject changed to the waning days of summer vacation and school. As it turned out, Vince and I would be leaving for school the same weekend—in three weeks time. He would be a returning sophomore and was really looking forward to not having to live in the dorms. He went on about some of the screwball things that went on and how difficult it was to study in the dorm room, and the fact that the walls in Albert Hall were paper-thin.

“Albert Hall? I think that’s the name of the dorm I’m assigned to.” I said. “Don’t tell me, you go to…”

“Atlantic U!” Vince cut me off.

“Holy shit. You’re kidding!”

“Nope! Second year pre-med.”

This was just too good to be true. At least I’d have a friend (and a lot more) on campus. We continued to talk and hadn’t immediately noticed when Curtis came into the room, until he began grousing about having to clean up all the mess in the basement. He rinsed himself off briefly in the shower, while we continued to talk.

Not only would we both be going to the same school, but also we had a mutual interest, as I too was going to be taking a pre-med curriculum. I’d tested out of some of the freshman introductory courses, and it turned out we’d be taking Organic Chemistry at the same time, if not the same class, we’d most likely be able to study together and help each other out—in more ways than one.

We kept on talking even after Curtis bounced back into the room and threw fresh sheets on the bed. We helped him make it up, straightened the room a bit while Curtis dressed. When the room looked reasonably tidy, we headed back to the basement for a round of pool. Both Vince and I capitulated to Curtis’ repeated requests, knowing full well that we’d get beaten—but hell—it’s only a game, right?

We talked as we played pool, and the conversation turned again to school. This wasn’t really a topic that bode well with Curtis, as he had elected to ‘sit out’ a year in order to get some money in his bank account—it had been made clear to him by his parents that they weren’t paying for him to party! He’d have to put himself through a year of school locally at a junior college before he could return to university. If he could succeed at that—they’d reinstitute their financial support.

I’d explained that even though my parents were paying for the tuition, room, board, etc., that’s about where it ended and I’d have to find some source of income. I’d purposely said “source of income” rather than a job, just to see if Vince picked up on anything. I didn’t know if Vince knew that both Curtis and I had a fledgling little business in the making.

“Actually, since like Curtis here, you’re a horny sex crazed bastard, I think we can solve that rather easily. It’s kind of like mixing business with pleasure…or rather a business doing pleasure with you!” Vince broke into a forced laugh at his own pun. It wasn’t anything we hadn’t heard before, but I certainly got his drift. My suspicions were cemented when I saw the look on Curtis’ face and his knowing nod.

As we continued to get our asses wiped at the hands of Curtis’ pool stick, Vince and I began to hatch a plan. I wasn’t really sure just how this was all going to play out. To be sure, I wasn’t as well versed and as skilled at sex like Vince, and really knew very little with regard to the kinky side of things. I had my limits, but then again I figured so did most people. Besides, like Vince had said, I liked sex. For the most part, I’d viewed it as both fun and an extension of a special friendship. If we were to turn the fun into a business, maybe my attitudes toward sex might change some—but it’d still be sort of fun—and who could argue with the money? This could be the start of something big.

Vince looked at his watch, “I’ve got to go. Time to make the pizza!” We both accompanied him to the front door and we agreed on meeting up mid-week to discuss our unique little ‘business plan’.

This was going to be sweet!

###

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I was feeling very horny and wanted some cock to suck. I use the ole' internet and someone clicked on that lived a couple houses down from me. We were both married, but when it comes to guys, we like our share. He was Hawaiian, a medium sized-cock about 6.5", and very dark skinned, 36 years old. Very cute with little hair on his body. I am about 26, 5'8", 165#, brown

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For quite a while, I’ve heard of various self-help programs, group therapy clinics, 12 step programs, TV Talk Shows—you know—the sensational kinds—filled with strange and crazy people. Everything from aberrant societal behavior to the mere wild and crazy—I guess they have quite a crew of recruiters that scour the trailer parks from one end of the country to the other, looking for

Stranger Things Can Happen, Part 2

As I approached my car in the parking lot, I fumbled for my keys, only to find they weren’t there! Damn. Immediately, I realized I’d left them on the table near the condiments at the restaurant. I turned and headed back towards the restaurant. Mark saw me walking away from the car and called out, “Something wrong?” “Not really, I just left my keys on the table at the restaurant.” I

Well, One Has To Start Somewhere

Well, One Has To Start Somewhere Thinking back on my early experimentation with sex, as I became “aware” of my body and its needs, pleasures and methodology of gratification, I recall that I was always both interested and thankful for my discovery of frottage. At the time, I’d never even heard of the word, and certainly wasn’t an authority on the subject. It was just that age of sexual

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