Cinema Erotica

by Laura Antoniou

  “I didn't give you permission to stop eating her, slave, so get busy! And you better not come before I do!” Carefully, she settled into a comfortable position, and began to ride him.

  Guy wasted no time watching. He stepped up to Terri's face immediately and thrust his cock at her lips, still covered in Allison's sweet juices. “Come on, slave, show me how much you love this. Lick my balls. Kiss that shaft. Make me nice and wet.”

  Terri obeyed these raunchy requests with the same gusto her husband had applied to her pussy. She brought her tongue eagerly up to wash the underside of Guy's nuts, then the length of his dick, licking and nibbling the way she knew he liked it. He moaned and grasped his thick cock in one hand and aimed it into her mouth, feeling her welcome it with wet warmth and slurping tongue. She was an excellent cocksucker, taking him all. Her mouth stretched around it, her teeth well out of the way. The bend of her throat accommodated him fully, and he let her fuck herself on the shaft, bringing her head up and back again.

  Allison rode Will's cock hard and fast, the way she liked it, and was the first one to cry out in orgasm. Throwing her head back and cupping her own breasts, she screamed out, “Oh yes! I'm fucking him…I'm coming now! Now!” She twisted on the shaft she had used for her own pleasure as the strength of the pleasure shook her entire body. Will let out a well-muffled gasp as her inner contractions actually milked him to his own come, and he spurted deep within her, his hips rising to meet her as she ground her cunt against him.

  As Will gasped, he sucked Terri's clit between his teeth and gently bit down. Even as he bucked under Allison's magnificent fuck, he made Terri writhe into a long, sharp come. Her pussy quivered and clamped around him, her juices flooding his face as she gulped at Guy's cock until it slid naturally into her throat, where the tightening of her muscles around it made Guy lean forward as if in pain.

  It was an amazing chain reaction. In one moment, an electrical surge of ecstasy sped through the four people, their own reactions triggering pleasure in the next person. All together, they cried out in an orgy of splashing male come and silky female wetness.

  Guy fed Terri his load with a series of short thrusts that all bumped against the back of her mouth, and she drank him down like cool water, moaning around his cock. Then, sighing, he pulled it out of her mouth, dripping, and threw himself down on the couch, suddenly exhausted.

  Terri also fell back, panting. Will finally let his head drop back to the carpet, his face smeared with evidence of his wife's pleasure. And as Will's cock finally wilted, Allison lifted herself off it and just rolled over on the floor, flushed and tired.

  For a minute, there was no sound in the room except for the crackling of the fire and the sounds of four adults fucked to exhaustion.

  Then, Terri said, weakly, “Um, could someone untie me, please? I'm getting a little stiff.”

  They all laughed suddenly, as if her request had broken the magic spell of silence that had taken them, and they moved to release her. She gratefully stretched her legs out in front of her on the floor, and cuddled up with Will as he sat up next to her.

  Allison kissed Guy gently on the mouth when he came to lie beside her on the floor, and they all watched the flames for a little while, still recovering. They would not forget this weekend for a long time.

  Chapter Four:

  Boys Will Be Boys

  Mike and David walked together with the ease of two men used to each other. They rarely touched, but their strides matched so one never had to call the other closer to hear what he was saying.

  David spoke first. “Did you ever do any of that stuff? The leather stuff?”

  “Sure…didn't everyone?” Mike laughed. “Once or twice, I guess, to see if I liked it. But a lot of it was so…fake. All postures and clothing. So I never really got into it. I think I'm regretting that now.”

  “Oh?” Dave asked teasingly. “Why is that?”

  “Because I thought some parts of that flick were gonna make me explode right there in the theater!” He laughed harder. “Of course, it would have been hotter if some big hairy guy was ordering that wimp around instead of the Barbie doll in lingerie, but you know, we all have our fantasies.” He smiled encouragingly at his partner. “So, let's have it. What's on your mind?”

  Dave ducked his head for a moment. It was one of the moves Mike always thought was so cute. “Well, you guessed it, Mike. I was hot for that shit too. All I kept thinking about was how great it would be if, well, if you, um, did some of those things to me.”

  Mike stopped short in the middle of the block. “Uh-oh. I guess we have a problem then.”

  “Huh? Why? You said you did it before. What's the problem? Is it too much?”

  “Nope. But we both kind of want to be on the same side of things, I think. I never tried it from the master side—it always seemed too hard. Easier to just lie back and take orders, you know?” He shrugged helplessly, smiling at Dave's astounded expression. It was a slightly difficult admission to make. In their relationship, Mike was considered more top than bottom. He gave more than he took, and Dave liked it that way.

  In fact, Mike mused, it's been so long since I was fucked, really fucked, I probably don't remember what it feels like. But the thought of it made him stiff under his jeans.

  “So, I guess that's out for tonight,” Dave said, full of false cheer. “Let's just go home and party.”

  “No, let's not,” Mike said, an idea forming. “Let's see if we can find someone to do us both. Together.”

  “Huh? A threesome?”

  “Yeah! We'll go cruising, and find some leatherman who will master us both. It shouldn't be too hard, right?” They looked at each other and knew Mike was right. They were young and handsome, city-bred hard, gym-worked to matching builds. They complemented each other and matched each other, and they had never had any problems getting either a third man or another couple to bring home and play with.

  “How will we know some guy is real, though? What if we get some queen in leather? What if we get some nutso?” Dave, ever the concerned one, mulled over the possibilities.

  “We get someone we know,” Mike said assuredly. “Let's go to The Shaft and look for…”

  “Ron!”

  They laughed together and headed for the West Side, near the piers. And they thought about Ron.

  Ron was a leatherman they had both met on separate occasions. He had expressed an interest in the two of them before, but they never took him up on it. They had remained cordial, occasionally spotting each other in bars and clubs, saying hello and moving on. Tall and muscular, he dressed in fine but aged leathers, the sign of a man long used to living in that world.

  He was a real top. A man's man. A master. He would probably have no problem handling the two of them, and he was well known in the community, so they could feel safe. Now if he was only at the bar tonight. If he hadn't already picked up some new boy to take home and torment—

  But luck was with them, and they spotted Ron's ink-black curly hair over by the pool table in the back. The doorman/bouncer, his arms covered with biker tattoos and a thick cigar clamped between his teeth, had looked them over with derision when they walked in. Mike clearly heard the man say, “Fresh meat!” to a few of his cronies nearby.

  Well, we probably look like slumming clones, he thought as Dave led the way through the crowd of men. Then he gave a mental shrug. We are.

  There was no game in progress, only a few men examining the scoreboards from earlier in the evening. The smell of beer fought with the heavier scents of sweat, piss, and leather. In one corner, a man in a cop's uniform was pressing another man to the wall, pushing an authentic-looking nightstick between his legs. Mike gulped, suddenly not so sure of himself.

  Then Ron looked up and saw them. His mouth curled into a smile under his heavy mustache, and he waved them over.

  “Hey, good to see you boys,” he said cheerfully, his voice a deep baritone. “What brings you out tonight? Ready to take me up on my offer?” He w
inked. He was wearing black leather chaps, neatly framing a substantial basket between his legs and drawing attention to it. His black T-shirt was skintight over his developed chest, tucked into a worn and faded pair of Levi's 501 jeans. A plain silver buckle adorned an old but shiny black leather belt around his waist. A leather vest and a tight armband on one bicep completed the picture, and David felt his balls tighten in anticipation at the sight of the man.

  He was hot.

  Mike, usually the leader, had lost whatever it was he was going to say. They were really here, standing in front of this vision of masculinity, and they were going to ask him to—to—

  Dave, seeing that Mike wasn't going to answer for some reason, took Ron's outstretched hand and shook it warmly. “Well, yeah, Ron, we are! How about that?”

  Ron's surprise was genuine, but then his smile broadened. “No shit! Well, it's about time. I've had wet dreams about the two of you, you know. Or is it just one?” He looked back and forth between them.

  “Uh, no.” Mike found his voice. “I mean, we both…I mean, if you think you can…” Why was his brain failing him? He tried to get a grip.

  “We were wondering if you were serious about doing us both,” Dave said, smoothly. “We just saw this movie…”

  “Oh!” Ron nodded, cutting him off. “I know the one you mean. Hell, I've gotten three new boys this week from that flick. I should send them a thank-you card! But I'm real glad it gave you some courage. When do you want to set this up for? Tonight good with you?”

  Dave nodded eagerly. “Man, I was hoping you'd say that. Where can we go?”

  Mike thought, oh no, no tonight! Anything but tonight! But Dave was already arranging things. They would leave together and walk to Ron's apartment nearby. Would they like to discuss some rules? Yes, they would, and would this take long? Mike barely heard what they were talking about. His mouth was dry, and his eyes seemed unfocused. They were really going to do this? Go home with this man in black and do whatever he wanted them to? Why, he could do anything! What made him think of this? What could possibly…?

  “Hey!” That sharp word, clearly addressed to him, brought him back to reality. Ron was standing directly in front of him. He looked up into the man's dark eyes. “Hey, Mike…you with us here? Are you going to go through with this, or do you want to go home?”

  The question was serious, and behind the harsh words, Mike could see he was being given an option. He took a deep breath and looked back, then said calmly, “Yes, sir. I'm going through with it, sir.” And he felt the immediate stiffening between his legs.

  That was why he thought of this, he remembered.

  Dave's hard-on intensified when he heard his lover speak like that. Maybe Mike was more experienced than he let on?

  Ron nodded, satisfied. “Good attitude, boy. Now you go get me a beer while I talk things over with your boyfriend here.” He gave Mike a push toward the bar.

  By the time he got back, cold beer in hand, Dave and Ron were shaking hands over something. Mike held the beer out, still tongue-tied, and watched as Ron passed the bottle over to a friend of his standing by the rack of cues. “I don't think I need any more,” the top man said, grasping Dave by the back of the neck. “I think me and these two boys have some business to discuss, elsewhere!”

  There was warm but knowledgeable laughter as Ron herded the two men out of the bar, pushing them along from time to time. As they got to the door, the bouncer was almost in tears, he was so amused. “Hey, wadda you have here, Ron? Two for the price of one?”

  “You bet, Charlie, got ‘em on sale.” Ron stopped to pick up his leather jacket and shrugged it over his body.

  “Yeah, well, remember…don't bruise the merchandise. You won't get your money back.”

  Mike felt himself blushing even as his erection threatened to burst the zipper on his jeans. He left the warm confines of the bar with a gasp of relief, gulping the night air. In a moment, Ron was behind him again, this time with a hand on his neck.

  “Okay, you two, let's get one thing straight right now!” Ron's voice changed from genial to something more like a drill sergeant's growl. “You wanna know what it's like to do leather sex, and that's what we're gonna do. You're gonna do everything I tell you to, fast, and with no backtalk, and I'm gonna do whatever the fuck gets me off. Do you understand?”

  Dave said, “Sure…but I told you—” He was cut off when Ron took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back.

  “Yeah, I know what you told me, boy. All of that stands. Did you think I forgot? There's gonna be a taste of my belt on your ass for thinking I'd forget what I promised, kiddo. You better learn how to behave, and learn fast.” He let the younger man go, then pointed south. “Right this way, boys, and make it quick. I mean to teach you both a thing or two tonight.”

  Somehow, the three of them made it to Ron's walk-up without Mike passing out from sheer overwhelming pleasure. He glanced at Dave from time to time, and was aware that Dave saw the effect this strange scenario was having on him. Was it his imagination, or did Dave grin every once in a while? Mike's legs felt like rubber as he climbed the stairs and entered the cool, dark confines of Ron's apartment.

  Ron closed the door behind them, and without looking at them directly, ordered them to strip. Dave and Mike glanced at each other in momentary confusion. Huh? was clear in their eyes, and only Mike's hands crept to the collar of his shirt. But Dave started to turn around to face Ron.

  In a flash, Ron's large, warm hand was clamped onto the back of Dave's neck.

  “You have a severe problem taking orders, boy.” Ron held onto the younger man and began to shake him back and forth, making him unsteady, making small, confused sounds come from his throat. “You didn't come here for chitchat, did you?”

  “Uh…no,” Dave managed to get out, trying to keep his hands from going to his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mike watching them, tensed to move.

  “What's this ‘uh’ shit, you little scum sucker? That should have been, ‘Sir, no sir!’ And you, dickface!” He directed this at Mike. “Why the fuck are you still dressed? I want you down to skin or jock, now!” Then, the leatherman pulled Dave closer to him. “I believe I owe you two punishments now, don't I?”

  Dave saw his lover hurriedly shucking his clothing and groaned as Ron breathed heavily into his ear. “Yes,” he said, weakly, “uh, I mean, sir, yes sir.”

  “You're still a fuck-up, but I give you a point for trying. Get your clothes off and get your face down on my boot, and maybe I'll even take that as an apology.” Ron walked past the two of them and sat regally in a wide, comfortable chair, beckoning Mike over as he walked.

  Mike was down to skin—he almost never wore a jockstrap unless he was working out. His excitement was painfully apparent, and as he approached the seated master, it only got worse. But Ron paid no attention to that symbol of manhood, only had Mike turn around and show off his body.

  “You'll do, boy. Bring your tits over here. Let's see what you're made of.” The black-haired man patted his leather-covered knee and Mike hesitantly moved forward. With Ron's guidance, he lowered his body, straddling that knee, his cock and balls pressed against the leather in luxurious torment. He tried to maintain his balance without putting his full weight on Ron's leg, and Ron did not move to correct his posture.

  “Hands behind your back.” Ron didn't wait for Mike to do it, but reached up and took hold of both of the young man's nipples. He gave them a sharp pinch, which made Mike gasp, then began to work them back and forth between his fingers. They became miniature erections by themselves, and Mike arched his back, his thighs pressing on the sides of Ron's leg, his hands locked obediently behind his back. His head swarmed with sensation. His entire body gave itself to the intense pleasure/pain that the older man was causing him.

  The only thing that called his attention back was the feeling of something—or, no, someone—down by his foot. It was Dave, finally undressed and crouching submissively at Ron's boot, his
mouth barely an inch away from the leather. Mike saw the smooth curves of his lover's ass and groaned again, his cock twitching, his hands aching to grab it. Ron roughly twisted his nipples.

  “Keep your attention on me until I tell you otherwise, fucker, you got that?”

  “Sir, yes sir!” Mike answered at once. Ron's slow, cold smile made him blush.

  “And you! I told you what to do, fuck-up, now do it!”

  The room fell silent until a slight, steady sound emerged from Ron's boot. Dave ran his tongue over the worn, polished leather, shining and cleaning and worshipping. Mike couldn't take it any more, and twisted on his perch.

  Ron laughed and pushed him off his knee. “All right, boy, that's enough attention for you right now. Get your ass into that room,” he said and pointed, “and look in the closet. There's some rope in there, and a little black bag on the floor. Bring them here…but…I want you to crawl there and back. And I don't want to see you carry any of that stuff in your hands. What you do when I can't see you is your business. But I want to see if you can be a good little boy for me. Get moving.”

  Mike dropped to his knees for a moment right next to his boot-licking lover, and crawled toward the room Ron had pointed to. He was awfully conscious of his engorged dick hanging stiffly down, and his balls, heavy and already sweaty, exposed to the dark eyes of the man whom they had chosen to master them for an evening. A flush swept through his body again, and he continued to crawl.

  Dave, in the meantime, had covered all of Ron's right boot with his spit, and polished it to a midnight sheen. He gasped as Ron's hand lifted his head by the hair and forced it back down on the other boot.

  “Not bad, cocksucker. Now, while you do this one, we'll see to your punishments.” Ron stood up and Dave heard the clanging sound of his belt buckle, and the terrible, slow hiss of the belt being pulled from its loops. The novice tensed, then actually trembled as the belt was trailed gently across his back.