cherrybeer @ 2008-05-03T18:02:00

2008-05-03T16:04:53Z

Experimenting with HTML and all that shizzle.

blah blah blah

Let's see if that works...

cherrybeer @ 2008-05-02T02:24:00

2008-05-02T00:27:56Z

I am awoken by birdsong that's just out of reach. The way the sun pours through the window, drowning my room in golden light, reminds me of childhood. I can practically smell the fresh air and warm grass, so tempting that the urge to go for a lazy walk and explore the blossoming summer is overwhelming, but I can't bear to budge. I'm snug, safely cocooned inbetween two bodies; one snuffling softly and murmuring to himself, the other sleeping so soundly that I have to focus on his chest to ensure it's still rising and falling. So, I relax, and revel in the dreamy feeling that it's going to be a beautiful day. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to share it with my two favourite men. Jeff lies on my right, snoring softly. I watch him and, for a moment, I'm overwhelmed by his beauty. Stroking his chiselled jaw-line and feeling the raspy stubble, watching his lips turn upwards into a sleepy smile, I feel prickles at the back of my eyes. To distract myself, I run my hand over his tight stomach, a move which makes him fidget, mumbling unintelligibly. I don't want to wake him, so I back off. I'm content to simply observe, anyway - I'm just happy he's here. I never would have imagined this gorgeous young man would want to spend any time with some old bastard like me; let alone share my bed, hold me as I fall asleep and kiss me goodnight. He could have anyone he wants - and frequently does - but, for some unknown, and incomprehensible, reason, he always finds his way back here. I don't know why he does, but if I think about it for too long, I worry that I'll jinx my wonderful luck. So, I don't question it.

Jeff is young. I have about 15 years on him, he's still in his twenties for crying out loud. He's everything I never was, and everything I always wanted to be. He's the kind of guy who, when intoxicated, will wrestle you for a piggy back on the way home, 'lose' his shirt somewhere along the line, and then fail to understand why - at 5.30am when you've got appointments to keep the next day - you're not particularly enthused about joining him on his makeshift dancefloor (formerly your living room). I often rise in the morning to find that he hasn't even made it to bed, instead, lying crumpled in a heap somewhere, as though, halfway through whatever energetic activity he was enjoying, sleep crept up on him and knocked him out where he stood.
He's slinky and agile, and he always lands on his feet. When we lie, spent and sated, wherever we've ended up, I rub his belly and he purrs in satisfaction. He gets embarrassed when I call him Kitty Cat, he claims not to like it, but I've seen his secret smile when I whisper it into his ear.

He knows the power he has over me and will happily use it to full effect. I joke that I'm old and decrepit, and he'll laugh. I smile at his infectious eagerness and his energy which manifests itself both in and ouside of the bedroom. Like any younger man, he's quicker to become aroused, easier to get off and can be driven eye-crossingly mad by fully-clothed dry grinding sessions on the sofa, when I forbid skin-on-skin contact until his whole body strains and throbs and he's pulling manically at my shirt, telling me that if I don't touch him now, he'll go off in his pants. He is exciting and spontaneous, encouraging me to do it anywhere and everywhere: groping me as we wander around Blockbuster; forcing my head towards his lap as we sit alone in the back row of the cinema; frantic, mindblowing fucking in spare rooms at parties.
He likes me to slap him around and call him bitch, and when I handcuff him, blindfolded, to the bed and bite down hard all over his delicious body, I swear he has multiples.
I love how he comes. He rides out every orgasm in almost the same enthusiastic way: hips bucking and his whole body jerking uncontrollably. He's not a fan of quiet sex, doesn't believe in it, and I've been known to come suddenly, spontaneously, at the mere sound of his gutteral moans.

He makes me feel so good about myself. He makes me feel young: when I'm so fed up with everything around me, he can make me forget myself. He's the sparkle in my eye and the spring in my step. I'm not going to say 'love', but I am going to return to my favourite adolescent-style fantasy about living in a little house with a pickett fence, two fat cats, an ocelot and Mr Jeff Davis.

There is a finger trailing lightly down my back. Ryan never could be left out of my day dreams. I lean back into him and his strong arms encircle my waist as he nuzzles my ear.

"So you are awake..." he murmurs.

"Sure am."

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

"Just dreaming about that one there." I gesture at Jeff.

"Mmmm." I can feel him smile into my neck. "Nice daydreams, eh?"

"Very nice indeed. You want in?"

"Sure do." He suckles my neck softly in the way he knows drives me crazy, the gentle touch making my eyelashes flutter and a tingle snake its way down my spine. I am left speechless, sucking in a breath, unable to focus my thoughts. Ryan's laugh vibrates against me.

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Ryan begins, and I nod my agreement.

"What does he want with us old farts?"

"Get out of my head, dude." I smile. "We get young, hot eye-candy..."

"...and he gets men with experience." Ryan finishes for me.

I turn my head to face him and we share a glance, which turns into a smile, and then a soft kiss. His hand slides into my pj pants and he taps a gentle rhythm onto my ass.

"Do you think we corrupted him?" I ask against Ryan's warm lips.

"Come on, Greg. He was actively out looking to be corrupted."

"I know, but..." I trail off and wonder how to phrase this. "How long do you think we've got him for?"

"Until he gets bored? Until he meets 'the right girl'?" Ryan eyes me. "Do you honestly think this is a phase he's going through?"

"Well, he sleeps with chicks, Ryan."

"He'll sleep with anything. He's a young guy - who knows what's going on in his head? It's confusing enough to try to understand him without having to consider this late-onset sexuality exploration." Ryan places the ghost of a kiss against my lips. "Don't fret so. He's here now, isn't he? He's here now."

"He always comes back." I repeat what I previously thought to myself, if only for confirmation.

"Let's just enjoy it while we can." Ryan suggests. A beat. "How do you plan on enjoying him today?"

I smile, glad the conversation is heading in this direction and I ponder for a second. Ryan's hand is still on my ass, stroking lightly, his long, slender fingers ocassionally drifting lower to tease my balls; a movement which tightens my muscles and sets a nerve twitching on my thigh. I hitch in a breath,

"I want to play with him. I want to tie him to the bed and crawl all over him until I'm satisfied, and then I want to play with myself while you have your turn."

Ryan's breathing is deeper now, laboured, aroused. He shares his thoughts,

"I want to eat breakfast from him. I want to press strawberries against his nipples and lick away the juice as it runs down his chest. I want to paint my name with yoghurt on his torso and drink orange juice from his bellybutton."

There is a pause as we consider these prospects, during which he rubs himself against me and I can feel his cock swell and grow, pressing into my back. I smile, rubbing my ass up against him, which makes him growl beneath his breath.

"Don't pretend you don't love it too." His voice is slightly hoarse as he trails his hand from my ass and places it on the crotch of my pj pants, coaxing my own stiffening erection to bunch the fabric into a growing tent.

"I want to come all over his chest," I groan

"And I want to kiss it all away." Ryan replies.

I close my eyes and exhale deeply at the thought, only to be jerked from my aroused trance by a tongue attacking my right cheek. I find myself gazing into Jeff's big, bleary eyes.

"Do I get any say on the matter?" he asks, his voice low and heavy with sleep.

"Fraid not," Ryan chips in. "How long have you been awake and eavesdropping, you sly fox?"

"Long enough to hear this morning's itinerary," Jeff smirks. "It's difficult to sleep with you two jabbering away in the background. Whatever happened to respect for those of us who need our beauty sleep?"

"Oh, please...if you get any more beautiful, you'll be illegal." Ryan replies, leaning past me to plant a clumsy kiss on Jeff's lips, which the younger man receives eagerly. I slip my hand onto his thigh, noting with some amusement that the boxers I'm sure he was wearing when we settled down to sleep have disappeared. Jeff's hand appears beneath the covers grabbing mine to guide it where he really wants me, and I am rewarded with a fistful of hard, hot cock. I raise an eyebrow at Ryan, commenting,

"Seems Jeff is perfectly happy with what we've got planned."

Giving a lazy smile and a slow nod, Ryan lies back to watch us, relaxing, one arm draped against the headboard and his other hand moving slowly between his legs, taking his time in allowing his arousal to grow.

Turning back to Jeff, I curl my hand possessively around him and he snarls, stretching out, catlike, guiding his hips further towards me. Squeezing firmly, I feel him throb softly against my hand, and I let go for a second to gently pull at his shoulder, encouraging him to roll from his side of the bed, on top of me. A wicked grin is offset by his dark, flashing eyes as he obeys, his warm skin smooth against my bare chest as he presses his weight onto me, before lifting himself up on his elbows to gaze down at me. His cock is snug between us, pushed hard against my stomach as he gives me a penetrating stare with an arched eyebrow that says "Now what?"

"Kiss." Ryan's voice is barely a whisper, and Jeff's mean and moody act is immediately shattered as he smiles. I turn to Ryan and catch his eye, a gesture, unspoken, to ensure he's not feeling left out. Ryan gives another slow nod, keeping my gaze for a number of seconds, before repeating, '"Kiss him. Kiss him." His tone is insistent; his eyes beg "please".

I close my eyes as I feel Jeff's lips descend onto mine. His are soft and warm and I can feel that mine are dry and slightly chapped. Jeff doesn't care, probing with his tongue for me to open my mouth to him. I resist for a second, because it's fun that way, but I can't stop my lips turning up into a smile. Ryan breaths unsteadily next to us:

"Get on with it."

Ryan likes to watch proper dirty kissing - the kind that's full, open-mouthed, delving and tonguey. The sort of kissing that is wet and makes lip-smacking noises; the kind where teeth clash, but nobody cares because the arousing intensity of the kiss overrides any potential embarassment. Both Jeff and I know this, and we dutifully give him what he wants to see.
Personally, I like it too. It's fun to get half my freaking face all wet from Jeff's eagerness; I can even stand it when he pushes his tongue so far into my mouth that I have to back away from him hitting my gag reflex. There's almost as much of a performance element about it than there is actual technique. And it's giving me a hard-on that nudges its way up, bumping against Jeff's, so I press it against his stomach, making him wriggle and squirm and giggle.

Next to us, I can sense Ryan touching himself, both hands slid inside his boxer shorts. I pull slightly away from Jeff, and - for Ryan's benefit - open my mouth wider so that he can clearly see our tongues mashing together. Ryan's quietly suppressed moans are punctuated by a grunt of pleasure. I catch Jeff's tongue softly between my teeth and gently suck on it, prompting Jeff to buck against me, arching his back, his hands grabbing aimlessly at the air.

Before I get a chance to continue, Ryan suddenly grabs Jeff, pulling him roughly away from me, rolling him over onto his back and pressing his full weight on top of him, pinning his arms above his head.

I know I'm smirking, but I can't help it - it's so damn hot. Jeff has his eyes closed in pleasure and, as Ryan trails a hand up his tight, toned thigh, he tips his head back into the pillow, giving a lazy, lusty smile. A sheen of sweat is glistening on Ryan's back, tracing his spine and giving him an irresistable glow. I lean over him and trail my tongue the length of his back, savouring the salty, musky taste that is entirely Ryan. I feel the shiver that runs up his spine and kiss him gently between his shoulder blades. He turns his head to me and we share a glance, before he nods again and murmurs,

"Get that t-shirt off."

I do as he says, ripping it quickly over my head, unwilling to miss a moment. As Ryan's tongue dips into the hollow beneath Jeff's throat, I run my finger along the waistband of his boxer shorts before gently pulling at them. Ryan angles himself, lifting his knees up so that I can slide them down, not missing a beat in his assault on Jeff's neck. I drag the shorts down his legs and he vaguely flicks his feet until he kicks them out of sight. I sit back and take in the view. Ryan's long cock is hard, stretching up and out towards Jeff. He leans down and kisses Jeff hard, laying the length of his body tight against him, while Jeff wraps one leg around Ryan, by now desperate for friction. I can see his hips thrusting surreptitiously against Ryan's strong thigh.

I love the contrast. Ryan's body is pale, his legs and arms covered in a fine layer of fair hair. Jeff is tanned with dark curls clinging to his chest. Ryan's stomach is almost tight, it's true he's not the beanpole he used to be, whereas Jeff is toned, with a hint of a six-pack. Ryan's long, sinewy arms still hold Jeff's slightly bulging biceps above his head. Ryan's cock is longer, but I know that Jeff is thicker. Ryan is my rock; Jeff is a hurricane.

They kiss; Jeff is still grinding against Ryan's leg. I can't resist any longer and lean into Jeff, nibbling my way up his side. He tastes clean and young and murmurs into Ryan's mouth in reaction to my touch. I travel further up his body until faced with his raised arm, exposing his armpit. I can't resist the oppurtunity and nuzzle my nose into the soft curls, a move which makes him cry aloud and jerk upwards, unable to do anything as his arms are still restrained by Ryan. He giggles and squirms violently, but Ryan keeps him pinned down and Jeff's frustrated groan is audible against Ryan's mouth.

"Touch my fucking cock for Christ's sake!"

I glance down at his erection which is visibly straining for release, pre-come bubbling at the tip. I am overcome with the need to swallow him down in one lovely, long suck and to feel him throbbing in my mouth. Instead, I allow a shaky breath to escape and, for the first time this morning, wrap my hand around my own cock, squeezing hard to savour the feeling of my heartbeat. After a couple of quick strokes, I realise that this won't take long, so reluctantly let myself go for a second while I kick off my pj pants. Ryan comes up for air long enough to smile approvingly,

"Greg's finally joined the party..."

I kneel beside them, cock in hand, trying to keep up a steady, fairly slow rhythm, so as to enjoy this for as long as possible.

"You," I nod towards Ryan. "Stroke Jeff off."

"Thank you..." Jeff groans.

As Ryan's long, slender fingers wrap around Jeff's thick, hard cock, a shiver runs up my spine, and I can't hold back a low growl. I'm so turned on my teeth ache.

Ryan pulls softly on Jeff, using his other hand to alternately run lightly up and down his thigh and tug gently at his balls. He is deliberately not applying the pressure that he knows Jeff needs. Jeff realises and is not happy.

"Don't fuck with me, Ryan. I want to come." He is insistent, a pout playing across lips, but he can't hide the playfulness dancing in his eyes.

"You're practically there..." Ryan murmurs.

"Well, finish me off, you bastard."

Jeff has barely finished the sentence when Ryan's hand begins moving fast, jerking and stroking Jeff hard, causing Jeff to whine with pleasure. My leg muscles strain and tense as I continue to try to maintain my steady rhythm, but my cock jumps with joy everytime I look at the uncontrolled lust in Jeff's face. If Jeff is almost there, than so am I.

Ryan is more than aware of this, so, without pausing in his frenzied movements on Jeff, he catches my eye before nodding towards Jeff's chest. The only reaction I can muster is to accelerate my strokes and grunt back the moans which catch somewhere in my throat.

Jeff is going to come, I can tell. He is bucking his hips in the way that suggests mini waves are flooding through him and he's going to ride this one out. He groans aloud with each movement of his hips, noises which become higher and higher in pitch, before he dissolves into obscenities, calling Ryan every filthy pet name he can muster, before his body jerks violently and resolutely forward.

"Oh, fucking yes..." is all he can manage as his orgasm rips through him. Quick-thinking Ryan aims the resulting spurting towards Jeff's own chest, and it is this sight that kick-starts my own climax.

I can feel it trickling up from my toes, building in intensity as my leg muscles cramp and the hair on my arms stands on end, then suddenly - before I'm ready - my toes curl and my cock lurches forward, and I'm spraying hot jets of semen onto Jeff's chest. The violence of the feeling makes my eyelashes flutter involuntarily, rendering me senseless for a number of moments as I gasp, jerk and tremble, vaguely aware of Jeff's indulgent moan.

Ryan groans repeatedly as his hand switches to his own twitching hard-on. I'm distracted by the mix of fluids on Jeff's chest, wondering vaguely why it is that mine is more viscous than his, but these thoughts are swiftly banished from my mind as Ryan leans forwards and - true to his word - begins to kiss away the mess on Jeff's heaving chest. His hand jerks himself off frantically and, as he's sucking sharply on one of Jeff's hard nipples, he suddenly straightens up, before freezing, stammering incoherently before his lips form a silent 'oh' as his cock splutters, and he sprays four or five hard shots which land everywhere: all over his hands, Jeff's torso and the bedsheets.

Done, he falls limply to Jeff's side, and Jeff stretches his other arm towards me, inviting me to join the cuddle. We smile the sheepish smiles of three men who have just come madly all over the place. Silence descends, but it's not uncomfortable. After some time, Jeff speaks up.

"You dirty bitches totally violated me. I think as an apology, you should prepare breakfast."

I smirk in Ryan's direction as he speaks the words that are on my mind:

"I'll fetch the strawberries."