But he wasn’t a boy any longer. He was a man, like Fausto. They both had histories, sexual and otherwise.
Fausto smiled at the thought of Brent, who was not only a part of his recent history, but was still very much a part of his life. Briefly, Fausto had indulged in fantasies about he and Brent becoming lovers, as opposed to casual fuck buddies. It would’ve made sense, it would’ve been a convenience. After all, they worked together, and they got along great, on and off the set. But Fausto soon had to resign himself to the fact that Brent really was bisexual, and that he preferred the ladies, in general. Fausto and Brent were friends—“friends with privileges,” as the saying went—but just friends, nonetheless.
What about Gene, who was lying right there in that bed, sound asleep? Fausto and Gene had been friends, too—and much more than friends, so far as Fausto was concerned. It was thrilling to be with Gene again. Tonight, their sex had been great. But Fausto couldn’t help wondering whether there would be anything more to it than that. It might be only too easy for both of them to confuse nostalgia and sentimentality with romance. Maybe, as far as Gene was concerned, Fausto was just another in a long line of recent tricks.
Not that Fausto was in any position to throw stones. Last night, he’d fucked Marc, and had wanted to sleep with him afterward. Too bad Marc had had to leave. To get home to his father, no less! Tonight, he’d let Gene fuck him, and they were sharing the same bed afterward. Was that really the only difference between the two encounters?
Fausto thought about Marc, who was no doubt sleeping soundly in his own bedroom, down the hall. Marc was a complication. He’d lusted after the boy. He’d lusted after his father, too, but surely there was a difference. Surely his feelings for Gene were more intense—more real? Otherwise, why was Fausto now terrified by the possibility that Gene might find out about his fling with his son?
He sighed. Once, back in college, he’d thought that life was simple. He and Gene had found each other, and Fausto had assumed that their feelings for each other would never change.
But, in fact, barely a month had gone by before Fausto had begun enlarging his sexual experience—admittedly, with Gene’s whole-hearted encouragement. It had been Fausto’s first real hint that neither of them could be satisfied for long with just one other man.
He remembered the episode only too vividly, as he continued to stare out the window into the night.
“The fall semester starts tomorrow,” Gene had remarked to Fausto on that September afternoon, with audible disgust in his tone of voice. “That means we won’t be able to spend quite so much time together, what with classes and studying and all. At least we’re both on the team, so we’ll be together at practice. But we’re going to have to cool it in the locker room in front of the other guys, you know. Most of them aren’t too open-minded, and they’d freak out if they saw us kissing and grabbing each other’s dicks, let alone actually sucking or fucking.”
“Yeah, that’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Fausto agreed.
His choice of words wasn’t exactly fortuitous. At the moment, he quite literally had a pain in his butt, a lingering soreness. He’d let Gene screw him the night before, and it had been wildly satisfying for them both, well worth the slight, tingling ache that remained in his ass now from the bigness of Gene’s dick rammed deep inside it. The intense pleasure more than outweighed a little discomfort. Fausto found it hard to believe, staring at the lump Gene’s huge cock made in his jeans this morning, that Gene had actually been able to put that thing inside him in the first place, without splitting Fausto wide open. It looked so thick and long, even when it was soft! And yet Gene had fucked him, all right! He had possessed Fausto, fully and intimately, just as Fausto had possessed him, anally, that afternoon on the beach.
“We can still have our ‘private workouts’ together, can’t we?” Fausto asked, a little anxiously.
“Of course. In fact, that gives me an idea.” Gene brightened. “I’ve still got the key to the gym that David gave me. I’m afraid he might ask for it back, once classes start. Why don’t we go over there and put in a real good, grunt-and-sweat kind of workout today? It might be our last chance to have the weight room all to ourselves,” he added, with a wicked grin, “without the other guys on the team interrupting us—if you know what I mean!”
As always, Fausto was willing to go along with whatever his buddy suggested. He sometimes wished he could be more self-assertive, and not always automatically let Gene have his own way. But so far Gene hadn’t talked him into trying anything that he hadn't thoroughly enjoyed.
They drove to the school, let themselves in, and changed into their gym attire in the silent, empty locker room. They were strolling down the corridor and just about to turn the corner and push open the door leading to the weight room when they both heard sounds coming from inside it. They paused, exchanged puzzled glances, and listened intently. There was a grunt, followed by the familiar clank of iron plates. Somebody was lifting weights, even though the school building was supposed to be closed. Fausto wondered whether David Carlyle had been handing out more than one extra key!
“Let’s check it out,” Gene whispered. He pushed the door open just a crack, so they could both peer through.
The window blinds in the weight room were closed, but enough light penetrated them to throw a cool glow into the center of the room. Fausto was startled to see the assistant football coach, whom he and Gene had just been talking about, sitting on the end of the pressing bench. The slim but well-built blond man was naked except for a pair of gray cotton gym trunks, which were wet with sweat and plastered to his buttocks and hips. He was barefooted and bare-chested, his legs spread wide to stabilize himself on the bench. He was wearing weightlifting gloves, and he was pressing a barbell loaded with a hundred pounds’ worth of plates behind his neck, slowly and agonizingly raising the barbell to arms’ length above his head, then lowering it until the bar just touched his shoulders and the back of his neck. Sweat dripped down his naked torso, and his back muscles were knotted up and flexing from the strain he was putting on them. His ruggedly handsome face was flushed a dark red from concentration, and his disheveled blond hair was tied close to his forehead with a rolled-up bandana.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones who sneak in here to use the place,” Gene whispered into Fausto’s ear, sounding amused. “He’s really pushing himself, isn’t he?” he added, admiringly.
“He’s a good-looking dude,” Fausto had to admit.
“He’s gay, you know,” his buddy informed him.
Fausto scoffed. “I don’t believe it. You’re putting me on.”
“I’ve made it with him,” Gene announced. “Lots of times.”
Fausto felt a quick pang of jealousy. But, as he stared at David’s half-naked body and bulging arm and chest muscles, he began to feel intrigued and excited, rather than resentful. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what Gene and David might look like, in bed together, and some of the erotic scenarios that instantly flashed through Fausto’s mind were highly stimulating. “God, you sure as hell get around,” he taunted his lover. “So tell me. Was he—any good?”
“In bed? He’s fantastic.”
Fausto hesitated. “Better than me?”
Gene chuckled softly, then ran his fingers through Fausto’s hair and gave him a quick hug. “Don’t start getting paranoid on me. And don’t worry—I still want you for my ‘training partner,’ man. Hey—do you want to make it with David? I don’t mind, and I know damn well he won’t mind, either. We could even go for a threesome. That’s something you haven’t tried yet.”
“You’re disgusting!”
“Yeah, and you’re already getting turned on by the idea, aren’t you? Don’t deny it.”
Fausto couldn’t deny it, so he said nothing.
Groaning, David set the barbell back on its supports, then sat slumped on the bench, breathing hard, recuperating, staring blankly into space.
“Wait here a minute,” Gene
whispered.
Gene pushed the door open all the way and swaggered into the weight room, trying to look and act casual, and registered a patently phony “surprise” at finding David there. The door swung closed again, and concealed Fausto from David’s view.
“Oh, hi, coach,” Gene said. “I didn’t expect to find you here today. You look as though you’ve been working up a good sweat. Need a spot?”
David smiled at his protégé as he wiped some of the sweat from his face and chest with a towel. “Gene! Where the hell have you been hiding yourself? I never seem to see you anymore, except at practice.”
“I’ve been pumping a lot of iron with Fausto,” Gene said slyly. He stood in front of David and stripped off his tank top, then flexed his biceps and pecs. “You think it shows?”
David laughed breathlessly. “You’re looking good, and you know it. And—I bet you’ve been pumping more than just iron with him. Have the two of you gotten together yet?”
“Fausto’s here with me today,” Gene said, evading David’s question. “He’s in the locker room, getting changed. He’ll be here in a minute. As a matter of fact, he was wondering—“
“What?”
“On our way over here, we got to talking about you, and Fausto told me he’s had the hots for you for a long time,” Gene lied with brazen abandon. “Only he’s too shy to come on to you himself. I told him I’d talk to you about it the next time I ran into you, about maybe setting up something for all three of us at once. That way, Fausto won’t feel so nervous about it. Looks like I ran into you sooner than I expected.”
David shook his head. “You are too fucking much! I’ve never met a guy your age who is quite so wild when it comes to sex.” He stood up and put his hand behind Gene’s neck, smiling at him for a moment. “Not that I’m complaining, of course,” David whispered.
Then the two guys embraced and kissed. Gene seemed to hesitate for a moment before returning the kiss as wholeheartedly as he wanted to, because he knew that Fausto was holding the door open a crack and watching him. But soon he responded to David as fervently as David was embracing and kissing him. Fausto, watching, had to admit that the two guys looked awfully hot together. He was suddenly more curious and eager than jealous!
He generously allowed David and Gene to enjoy themselves for a few more seconds, but then he loudly cleared his throat and made quite a production out of pushing open the door and walking through it. Gene and David broke apart slowly, and Fausto greeted them as casually as though he walked in on male couples necking all the time.
“Fausto! Gene was just telling me how much he enjoys your ‘workouts’ together,” David remarked. “And—it looks as though you’ve put on some muscle in the last few weeks, too.”
“I do feel stronger,” Fausto admitted, oddly excited by their banter and by the way David was now looking at his body, openly sizing him up.
“It’s so hot today,” David said. “You guys are going to be wringing wet with sweat if you try to work out in all that gear. Why don’t you just strip down to the bare essentials, the way I am, and show me what kind of a routine you’ve got going with each other? I might be able to make a few suggestions.”
Gene glanced knowingly at Fausto, but neither boy said anything as they quickly shed most of their gym clothes and got down to business under David’s expert supervision. To do him justice, the coach took the weightlifting seriously. He put the two guys through a grueling routine, insisting that they maintain strict form at all times and that they proceed quickly from one exercise to the next, without pausing for more than a few seconds in between.
After an hour or so of this nonstop exertion, Fausto was gasping for breath and feeling faint, and Gene looked as fucked out as Fausto felt. David told them to stop and to cool down.
“My shoulders are killing me,” Gene complained, rotating his arms slowly in an effort to ease the cramps.
“Sit down on the mat and I’ll try to work it out for you,” David replied. Half-naked, Gene slumped down on the rubber exercise mat on the floor, and, standing over him, David began to massage his shoulder muscles and neck with slow, firm motions of his hands.
“That feels better already,” Gene admitted. “Hey, Fausto—are you sore anywhere?”
“Everywhere,” Fausto groaned, following Gene’s example and collapsing onto the mat.
David laughed. “Take off your trunks and your jockstrap, roll over onto your stomach, and I’ll give you a rubdown.”
Fausto knew damned well that David had a lot more in mind than a mere massage! He stripped and lay face down, grateful that, in this position, his hard-on was concealed from the older guy’s view—at least temporarily! David stopped working on Gene and crouched over Fausto instead, giving him an expert, soothing massage with those skilled hands of his. It was sensual rather than overtly sexual, so far, and Fausto enjoyed being touched.
Gene stood up and nonchalantly peeled off his sweaty gym shorts and jockstrap, throwing them aside and standing there stark naked, watching David work on his friend’s back and buttocks and thighs. He was breathing hard as he knelt down on the mat next to Fausto. David took one hand away from Fausto’s body and reached up for Gene’s cock. It felt warm and solid inside his fingers, and as he began to play with it, it stiffened and grew fully hard inside his grasp.
“What do you guys like to do after a hard workout like that?” David asked them in a low voice. Not that it made much difference, as far as he was concerned! With two naked, muscular young guys beside him, each sporting a hard-on, he didn’t particularly care what they did, as long as they all got it on together! He was open to any and all suggestions!
“Everything, man,” Gene boasted. “I guess we’ve tried just about everything during the past couple of weeks!”
“Show me,” David urged.
Gene pulled away from him, and took Fausto in his arms. He kissed his buddy on the mouth, and Fausto groaned with passion as they rubbed their hot, sweaty bodies together on the floor.
“Fuck me,” Gene whispered. “Show David how well you fuck my ass for me!”
Fausto only groaned again, still feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole scene. But Gene, predictably, took charge. He turned Fausto over, urging him to stretch out flat on his back on the rubber mat. Then Gene straddled Fausto’s hips, his ass aimed right over the other boy's towering hard-on.
“Oh, damn! My rubbers are in my locker,” Gene gasped.
“Wait! I’ll go get mine,” David volunteered.
“You’d better hurry—my asshole is really hot for his cock.”
David went to his office, and hurried back with the box containing his supply of condoms and lubricants. Gene grabbed a rubber and put it on Fausto’s cock. Slowly, eagerly, he sank down on it, impaling himself on it, after first wetting the head and then his asshole with a generous amount of saliva.
David couldn’t believe his eyes. Gene took Fausto’s big cock up his ass without so much as a whimper of discomfort! He felt a tingle of lust race down his own spine as he imagined how good the sensation inside Gene’s ass must feel!
“Suck me while he screws me,” Gene begged, staring at David. “Can’t you see how big and hard my dick is? Oh, God, he’s really hung—he’s really filling up my asshole with that horse prick of his!”
Quickly, David got down on his hands and knees on the mat, and bent his blond head forward until his lips grazed the swollen head of Gene’s cock. His tongue flicked out of his mouth and rubbed wetly all over the head of the penis. It throbbed in response, and David pushed his face closer.
Gradually, guiding the shaft toward his lips, David was able to get every inch of Gene’s dick inside his mouth. At that point, Gene leaned forward over David’s torso, being careful not to dislodge the cock that Fausto had jammed up his ass. He put one hand on the back of David’s head to push it up and down on his dick in the rhythm he wanted, and played with David’s tits with the other as the guy blew him.
They began to move
rhythmically together. Fausto’s cock pumped in and out of his buddy’s guts, while Gene fed his meaty prickshaft into David’s eagerly accepting mouth and throat. Each time Gene lunged forward to drive himself down David’s throat, Fausto’s cock slipped almost all of the way out of his ass. But on the downstroke the reverse was true—David had only the fat head of Gene’s fuck tool trapped between his suctioning lips, and Gene was impaled completely on his buddy’s oversized and very potent ramrod, to his intense pleasure.
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, guys, you’ve driving me crazy!” Gene gasped. His cock and ass throbbed hotly as the other two men used his willing body, until their rhythmic pumping accelerated and Gene was afraid they were all going to shoot prematurely.
“Wait a minute,” he pleaded, pushing David’s head away from his crotch. David raised his face reluctantly from the cock, which fell back against Gene’s belly with a hard, slapping sound. He started to get up from his kneeling position, but Gene kept his hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Turn around, David,” he panted. “Let me suck your ass!”
Even in the heat of passion, David hesitated.
“Sure,” he said. “But listen, guys—if we’re going to get into any serious ass play, we’d better go scrub up first. You can never be too careful.”
“I want to lick your ass, not listen to a goddamn lecture on hygiene,” Gene grumbled. But he followed David as the assistant coach got to his feet and led both of his players to the locker room, and the showers.
“I prefer clean sex,” David explained, as the three of them soaped up under steady sprays of hot water.
“I prefer sex, period,” Gene admitted, “although I have to admit that the three of us showering together like this is kind of hot. It’s the perfect opportunity for a little preliminary grab-assing, isn’t it?”
He didn’t wait for the other two men to reply, but reached out with both wet hands, to grab both wet asses.
“Horny, oversexed son of a bitch,” Fausto diagnosed, shaking his head. But he didn’t protest or pull away when David casually took his dick in his hand and toyed with it.
The Fortunes of Fausto (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove) Page 18