Date: Wed, 27 Jan 2010 08:50:11 -0500 From: hardreader2000@aol.com Subject: The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy, Chapter 16, Part 3 The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy Chapter 16, Part III From Justin's viewpoint I watched as Billy started to run his hand through the guy's hair. The guy's head lolled back and I saw it was him. That Tom kid. With the shaggy blond hair. The same one I'd found passed out on my sofa. I started to get pissed, but then I felt Billy's other hand squeezing my ass. Hard! Billy turned and pressed his open mouth against mine. Passion flowed between us and Tom's presence faded in importance. I was drunk on the music. The dancing. The lust of it all. And probably a little on the beers we kept knocking back. I felt Tom's hand reach around and start to caress my shoulders and neck. I felt a sensuous tingle as his fingers played across my steamy, sweat-sleek skin. My resistance melted as I felt him pulling us together. In a clutch of bodies and music and hands and tongues . . . This was what I wanted. What I'd hoped for. What I'd come for. Whatever restraints might have held any control over me or my actions or desires were gone. Melted in the heat of the three of us. Moving on the dance floor as though our bodies could flow in and out of one another at will. Every movement making us hotter than the last. Closer. More in need. More in heat. More . . . As we danced, our configuration slowly shifted until the three of us, our slim bodies slick with sweat and aching with pleasure and excess, were facing inward. Each of our crotches bumping, rubbing, taunting one or the other or both of our partners in lust. Shifting, swaying, thrusting to maximize the contact. Maximize the pleasure. The ache. The building urges of hot, young guys turned on without control. I arched my back a little. Thrusting my pelvis forward. Feeling the heat of their groins against mine. But also gaining enough distance to see each of them distinctly. Billy smiled at me and blew me a kiss. I knew Tom, incredibly cute, with his amazing blond hair, was watching us. Billy nodded toward Tom. Sending me an undeniable message. It was Billy saying, Fucking go for it! I looked at Tom. He was so young! But so hot! So sexy crazy hot! Like the perfect twink I'd always hoped to find on Xtube, or in Cumshot Clips or wherever I was looking for the perfect twink. And there he was. Tanned. Toned. Fucking smiling at me and open to whatever I wanted. Whatever I needed. Wide open and waiting for me to move. I wasn't fighting anything tonight. I was totally into the moment. Into the night. Into the possibilities. I leaned in and kissed Tom hard and wet and mouth wide open. Sucking his tongue deep into my mouth. It thrashed like an angry snake. My tongue lashed back. Thrusting and parrying and lapping and sucking. At one point it was as though Tom's tongue was deep-fucking my mouth. Hard and warm and slick and amazingly alive within me. If only it could cum! Cum right then in my mouth. Covering my tongue with his thick, creamy jizz. Filling me with his essence. I was fucking wild for him. I sucked hard with pure lust. We'd been going on like this for . . . who knew how long . . . when I felt a hand on my jeans. At my waist. But whose? My mind too fogged, too lost in the moment to be sure. Too much touching. Too much stimulation. Too much pleasure. But the movement at my waist was different. Interrupting the easy flow of the lust that was flowing between the three of us. It was purposeful and with clear intent. Someone was unbuttoning my fly. I hated the interruption, but my cock was getting damn near rubbed raw in my jeans. I'd gone commando as usual. And with my wet jeans and the friction . . . Well, you can imagine. Soon it was clear that what I felt was Billy's hand. So warm and gentle and familiar. Reaching into my jeans. Gently cupping my cock in his palm. It felt so incredibly good. So soothing. The underside of my raging hard-on resting in the protective cup of his warm palm and fingers. Like a hammock of welcoming flesh for my aching cock . . . . Damn! This was good. Then as smoothly as he slid his hand in, he slid it out. All the while Tom and I continued our kiss. Less forceful now. More sensual. More in time to the rhythm somehow. My mind started to be lulled back into the dance, but soon I felt Billy fingers at work again. Finishing the job he had started. Unbuttoning my jeans. Slowly. Gently. The final buttons one by one. As he did, I could feel the friction that had been consuming my cock for too long start to ease with every button he opened. I felt air moving about my hard cock as it stood free and hard and long and hot before me. Billy's gentle hand again. It was slick with sweat. Someone's sweat. And with pre-jizz. Someone's pre-jizz. I didn't care whose it was. It helped his hand to glide around my needy flesh. I broke my kiss with Tom and turned to kiss Billy. As our mouths opened and our lips met, I felt a new hand on my cock. It must be Tom's. His thumb had hooked around my cock, pulling it toward . . . another cock. It must be Billy's. It was Billy's. Tom now had a single hand wrapped around both of our cocks, or as far around as his surprisingly long fingers could reach. He had grip enough to hold them together and stroke them gently. It felt incredibly good. Billy let out a low moan and I wrapped my arms around both Billy and Tom and pulled them closer to me. I kissed Tom and then Billy again. After that I could just feel their bodies against mine. Hot and aching. Soon I felt a second hand on my cock. It had to be Billy's. Fingers interlocking with Tom's. Their fingers and thumbs uniting to hold Billy's and my cocks together. Billy immediately started a pumping action that was so incredible as the underside of his hard cock began to stroke the underside of mine. I knew I was leaking big time and lifted my arm from around Tom so I could reach down and get some of that sweet pre-jizz. My fingers were all wet with it as I raised them to my lips. So sweet and smooth. Billy leaned over to get a taste, too, but I murmured in his ear, "Let me serve you." It was the first words I'd said in what seemed like a long time. I got some more of the goo on my fingers and Billy lapped it up. Sucking on my fingers when he was done. But I pulled my fingers free so I could serve Tom, too. As I moved my hand toward Tom's mouth, it open and his tongue reached out to greet it. He closed his lips and his tongue curled around my fingers. A satisfied guttural sound reverberated in him. Somehow it called to me and I leaned in and slipped my tongue in his mouth along side my fingers. His lips and tongue were so soft. So sexy. He kissed better than Billy and Billy is a damn good kisser. As we kissed I could feel Tom's hand moving and his cock pushing to get into the action with ours. And from there on out we were just a writhing mass of sexed up teenage bodies, pumped full of hormones and sex. Our cum trying to burst out. As we danced, our exposed cocks brushed against each other's. Cock against cock. Cock against hand. Cock against hip. Hip and hand and cock and Billy and Tom and me and the deep base of the music. I could hardly tell where I stopped and they began. Fucking pleasure is fucking pleasure. We shared everything we had. Somehow I seemed to have lost track of where we were or what we were actually doing. I was just following my instincts. Doing what came naturally. What felt good. What came next. And I guess Billy and Tom were doing the same. From time to time one of us would get close to cumming and we'd back off a bit. Maybe just leaning in and resting our foreheads together and letting the music run through us. Giving our overheated, aching, twitching, leaking cocks a break. Pausing to look down at those magnificent hard-ons. Straining in their tight-stretched flesh. It was so awesome to be a guy. A guy just hanging with other guys. Free to touch and feel. I was so alive and so happy and fulfilled. If I wanted to taste the other guy's pre-jizz, I did. And they did. We took full advantage of it. Full advantage of it all. And of each other. I don't know how long this had been going on, but we were taking one of those cock breaks. Billy was about to put his goo-covered fingers in his mouth. Tom traightened up. Took Billy's hand in both of his. Made a show of licking and sucking on it. Anyone watching would have known what he was doing. At least any guy who'd ever licked cum of his or anyone else's fingers. And in this club, I figured that was just about everyone. For the first time I looked around us. The dance floor was pretty crowded. Hot guys dancing in pairs and groups. Some close. Some not. But all of them hot and sweaty and into the music. Then I realized Tom wasn't looking at Billy or Billy's hand. His eyes were locked on an older guy. The guy was hot. Maybe 30. Maybe 35. Really fit. No shirt. His jeans so low on his hips I could see his pubes and I'm sure he was trimmed. And that bulge. Oh my god! An amazing specimen. Incredibly awesome body. I didn't say anything and soon the three of us were going at it again. But I knew none of us could hold out much longer. Tom's was close. And I didn't think Billy and I were far behind. We were gonna have to stop and take a real break. As we got back into the music, I could sense Tom start to tense up. Almost like spasms. "Work my cock," he said to Billy and kissed him. Then to me, "Work my nuts. Fucking work `em good." I don't know why I didn't drag him and us off the dance floor right then. But I didn't. I took hold of his smooth nutsack, already pulled up so tight I could hardly get a grasp. Billy had a lot less trouble getting hold of his cock. As Billy stroked him and I choked his nuts, Billy and I started rubbing our hard cocks against his pubes. The friction of our cocks adding to the friction of our hands. A miraculous mixture of pressures and pleasures. Throbbing. So hot. So juicy. So hard. I couldn't believe how hard I was. How hard we all were. Tom's knees seemed to sag a little and I felt we were holding him up by his cock and balls. "Fuck, I love you guys," he said. I could feel his cum splatter on my side and then a little was running down over my fingers. His jizz made the sensations of my cock against his pubes all the better. Warmer. Slicker. Harder. Knowing that I was getting him off with every pump of my cock. Every tug at his nuts. "Oh, shit." It was Billy. On the verge and if he came there on the dance floor it was gonna be a mess we wouldn't be able to cover up. "I can't . . .," Billy started to say, but couldn't finish. Billy pushed into us hard almost knocking me off balance. As I caught my balance he groaned and mumbled, "Fuck me!" His cum was gushing. All over Tom's cock and pubes and nuts. All over mine. And, of course, all over his. We were all humping and stroking and milking Billy's flowing cock and Tom's aching, dripping boner. Our hands all over each other. I didn't care. I didn't know. I was in a world apart from the dance floor. All that mattered was the ache in my own nuts that needed to be free. Then it was. I shot myself in the chin with my first blast of cum. Powerful. Warm. Wonderful. My body surged and the release made me gasp. Maybe even yelp with the spasm. Then another hit Tom in his right nipple. I couldn't believe how much cum I was shooting as I saw my jizz running in a rivulet down Tom's chest to his abs. I came again and again. My nuts so tight. My cock on fire with pleasure. I wanted to watch every shot, but my cum was too powerful. I couldn't keep my head from lolling back. My eyes from rolling up in their sockets. My fucking cum was in complete control of my body and my senses. Exploding in me. And from me. I was my cum. Consumed totally and so thankfully in my orgasm. And in my friends. I knew Billy was probably still flowing. But I wanted Billy, or even Tom, to suck my cock while I was still spewing. I was too far into it to tell them to suck me. I settled for their hands and their cocks and their bodies pushing, rubbing, coaxing in our tangle of cum and sweat. As my orgasm began to ease, for a second I wondered if guys were watching. Could everyone tell? Did everyone know we were covered in our own cum? Sliding our cocks and bodies in a triple coating of man cum? Then the smell of our combined orgasms hit me. Oh, shit, it was awesome! It almost brought me to my knees. I actually thought I might cum again. Just from the smell of us. Of our combined cum. Somehow, I pulled back from the edge. The first restraint I'd showed since Tom joined us in our dance. At last, despite the music's relentless beat, we were almost still. Leaning into each other. Covered in each other's cum. Our cocks now mostly hard, but no longer throbbing as they had been. How long had this all taken? . . . An hour? More? Who cared? Then I realized Tom was looking outward again. I turned my head over my shoulder to see. The same guy. Staring back at Tom. At us. All three of us. He was standing there alone now. Not dancing. His right hand firmly grasping an amazing hard cock through his jeans. Stroking it slowly as he watched us. Watched Tom. A twinge of embarrassment surged through me. Regret. Confusion. Fuck that, I thought. Fuck that! It was fucking fun and nobody's the worse for it. But almost as soon as I had thought that, my mind flipped to more practical matters. We were covered in cum. We smelled like cum. Probably at least 20, 30, maybe lots more guys knew what we had just done. And we needed to get off the dance floor. Somehow. And even as my mind started to grapple with these thoughts. Tom turned from our little threesome. Facing toward the guy. That older guy holding his hard cock in his jeans. Tom was completely exposed. His cock jutting out of his wide-open jeans. A mixture of cum and sweat glistening on his body in the club's dance-floor lights. The cum distinct and obvious. Most of it probably mine. Tom was smiling. Just standing. Fully exposed. And when I looked, the guy was smiling back. Stroking his cock through his jeans more forcefully. More obviously. As exposed in some ways as Tom was. Tom reached down toward his cock. A strand of cum, mostly likely his own, dangled from his cocklips. A long, grayish strand. Thin where it slipped from his swollen cocklips. A glob of jizz toward its dangling end. It was glistening in the light almost like tinsel. Tom reached down and caught it on his fingers and brought it to his mouth. My cock spasmed. This was so incredibly hot! So sexual. So free and into the moment. I wanted to be as free as Tom. I didn't give a fuck. This was gonna be my night. I realized more guys were watching now, but I didn't care. I turned toward the older guy, too. He couldn't help but look. My cock is half again as long as Tom's. I might not be the twink he is, but I'm no slouch and I could see he appreciated what I had. I leaned toward Tom and licked a thick glob of what I guessed was my own cum that was sticking to his glistening, tanned flesh just below his nipple. I knew that my own cock was now as fully exposed as Tom's. I just didn't really seem to care. No. I did care. I fucking loved it. I loved everything about it. And I understood now how Billy had let himself get caught up in dancing on the bar. Who wouldn't? These images and feelings racing through me. This older guy staring first at my crotch. Then my body and at last my face. Then back down to my cock again. Billy was standing behind me. His own wet cock pressed against my ass. He reached around me. Cupped my balls with one hand and eased them back inside my jeans. Now more guys were watching. Billy eased my cock inside my jeans. His hands moved slowly. Gently. Lovingly. Knowing the whole time this was a show and lots of guys were watching. When he was done, my cock was still visible. But sort of nestled in a fold of my cum-soaked denim. He buttoned the top button of my jeans. My cock still straining to fit inside, even with the fly still open. Once I was covered, I reached over and sort of pushed Tom's cock with my hand. An obvious suggestion to him that it was time to cover up. He took my none-too-subtle suggestion and flipped his cock into his jeans and buttoned his waistband button, too. Billy, still standing behind me, edged back from my ass a little. I felt him fumbling at his own crotch and figured he was buttoning up as well. But, no, not my Billy. He had an audience and Billy loves an audience. He'd covered his fingers in cum from his pubes, or wherever there was still that much cum. And he reached around from behind me and offered it to me. I wasn't going to say no. Then he moved behind Tom and repeated the gesture. Tom lapped it up lovingly and then turned back and kissed Billy. I wasn't going to miss out or disappoint our fans. I kissed Billy too and then kissed Tom. I looked straight at the older guy as we walked toward our table. A few guys who had all but stopped dancing as they watched us moved out of our way. But surprisingly most guys acted as if nothing had happened. As if three guys getting off like that on the dance floor happened all the time. Did these guys only pretend not to see us? I guess I really didn't care. Maybe guys really did do this most every night. It wasn't until we sat down that I realized that Billy's cock was still hanging out. "Why is your cock hanging out of your pants?" I asked, a little surprised. "It's still so fucking gooed up from all that cum, it just doesn't want to go to bed yet," he said. I laughed, but knew he was right. With the semi-privacy of our table to hide what we did now, I unbuttoned my waistband and let my cock and nuts free again. I could see Tom doing the same. Soon we were all laughing. Drinks arrived a moment later. Compliments of . . . ? We thought we probably knew the answer. To Be Continued . . . AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second book in the "I Thought I Knew" series. It is not necessary to read the books in order, although Book one chronologically precedes this book. It can be found under the title "I Thought I Knew" in the High School section. /nifty/gay/highschool/i-thought-i-knew/ The characters in this project are real. The names and some other identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this story is held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of the author. I would love to receive comments on this story from readers. Email me at hardreader2000@aol.com While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And stay hard! -- H.R.