Chapter 2

Tommy walked the few blocks home in a blur, the golden summer light stretching long shadows across the sidewalk. His apron was still stuffed into his messenger bag, forgotten. All he could think about was them—Jon and Linda.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened. They’d invited him—invited him—to their home. Not just for coffee or a chat, but for ... something else. Something grown-up and raw and thrilling. The kind of thing he’d only fantasized about while alone, late at night. Jerking off.

Linda’s voice replayed in his head, the way she said “we’d like to spend time with you.” It hadn’t just been the words. It was the way she’d looked at him, warm and hungry and tender all at once. And Jon—Jon was so calm, so sure of himself. There was something deeply reassuring about his presence, something that made Tommy want to be touched by him.

Are they both going to kiss me? Will they undress me? Will he ... fuck me?

He stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change, but his mind was far away now. He imagined Linda in nothing but that flowing sundress, sheer against her glowing skin. He imagined it sliding off her shoulders, revealing soft curves and powerful thighs. Her breasts—he’d caught a glimpse of them swaying slightly under her dress earlier—he imagined them full, natural, just a hint of gravity. Nipples pink, like the soft inside of a flower. Would she let him touch them? Taste them?

And Jon. Jon had that lean, athletic build—broad shoulders, tan skin, a light dusting of chest hair, arms that looked like they knew how to hold someone close. How would it feel to be held by him? Tommy had never been with a man, not really. But something about Jon made it feel okay. Safe, even. The way he looked at Tommy—like he already understood what he needed.

The light changed, and Tommy crossed slowly, not even sure where his legs were taking him. His heart pounded as he imagined the three of them on a couch, or in a hot tub, or maybe on a bed. Naked skin. Warm hands. Whispered encouragement.

He blushed at the thought of being fucked—really fucked—for the first time. By a hot older man.

He reached his apartment and stopped at the door, his hand resting on the knob.

Tonight, he thought, heart racing. Tonight I’m going to say yes to everything.

The gravel crunched softly under Tommy’s sneakers as he walked up the path. The house—or rather, the mini mansion—was glowing in the last amber light of day, its wide glass doors open to the warm air, the scent of jasmine lingering in the garden. He hesitated for a second before ringing the bell, heart thudding just under his collarbone.

Linda answered with a soft laugh, already barefoot, her sundress loose and flowing like the breeze itself. Her beautiful messy updo, even messier than before. Filaments of her lustrous hair were dangling and about to come undone. So sexy.

“There you are,” she said, her voice like silk. “Come in, sweet thing.”

He followed her into a space that was both elegant and lived-in. Natural light filtered through gauzy curtains, the faint scent of sandalwood and something warm—like luxury coffee—hung in the air. Jon was in the kitchen, casual in linen pants, his strong arms bare as he poured three glasses of wine.

For the first time Tommy saw the size of the bulge in Jon’s pants.

That thing is huge. It won’t fit inside me. But gay sex is not always about penetration. I would like to hold it. Oh God! I want it inside me. Am I crazy?

“Welcome,” Jon said, smiling as he handed Tommy a glass. “You made it.”

“I—I did,” Tommy said, managing a laugh that barely masked his nerves. “This place is ... wow.”

Linda grinned. “We think so too.” She touched his arm lightly. “You okay?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. Just ... a little new to all this.”

“We know,” Jon said. “That’s part of what makes it so beautiful.”

They gave him a tour—showing him the open living room, the sun-drenched kitchen, the lush backyard with its soft lighting and ivy-covered walls. At every turn, Linda’s voice soothed him, and Jon’s presence steadied him.

Eventually, they led him to the patio, where a large outdoor daybed waited beneath a canopy of sheer white curtains. The sun had just slipped beyond the horizon, and a few stars blinked into the darkening sky.

“Do you want to sit?” Linda asked.

Tommy sat, wine still in hand, unsure where to look. The beauty of the moment felt surreal—like stepping into someone else’s dream. Linda curled beside him, her leg grazing his. Jon sat on his other side, their bodies forming a quiet shelter around him.

“Can I ask...” Tommy began, then hesitated. “Is this where you ... usually bring someone?”

“Sometimes,” Linda said.

Jon added, “We don’t do this with just anyone. You felt ... special.”

Tommy blushed. “I—I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay,” Linda said, brushing a lock of hair from his face. “We’re here to help you learn. No pressure.”

The wine was warm in his chest. Their nearness was calming. As they talked, Linda leaned in and kissed him softly. Just once. When she pulled back, Jon touched his shoulder.

“Only if you want,” Jon said, voice low and steady.

Tommy looked between them—Linda’s golden smile, Jon’s calm intensity—and nodded. “I do.”

There was no hurry. They moved like a tide—slow, sure, inevitable. Jon’s hand rested gently at the small of Tommy’s back as Linda guided him down onto the bed. Together, they undressed him with reverence, each movement soft and full of quiet praise. Then they slipped out of their own clothes, letting the warm evening air caress bare skin.

Tommy’s eyes drifted to Jon’s body—his cock, thick and long, striking in its beauty. And Linda’s body ... the soft triangle of her neatly trimmed hair was unfamiliar to him. The girls he’d been with before had been shaved bare. This felt different. Natural. Womanly. Better.

Their bodies gleamed in the fading light—Linda’s curves like something carved from love and moonlight, Jon’s lean form radiating quiet power. They looked at Tommy not with judgment, but with devotion—touching, kissing, letting him feel how wanted he was.

Tommy’s cock stood hard and proud, but compared to Jon’s impressive size, it seemed smaller. He glanced down self-consciously, but before he could retreat into the thought, Linda and Jon shared a knowing smile.

“It’s beautiful,” Linda whispered, running a slow finger along the length of him. Her eyes shone with sincerity. “You’re beautiful.”

Tommy shivered, breath catching. “So are you. Both of you.”

“We want to take care of you,” Jon said, kissing his beautiful lips.

They did.

Linda lay between them, her eyes closed, a quiet smile on her lips, still humming with the glow of tenderness and trust.

Tommy lay beside her, slightly breathless, chest rising and falling. Jon, reclining on Linda’s other side, turned toward him, propped up on an elbow. The older man’s expression was open, gentle, full of a warm curiosity.

Tommy looked at Linda, watching her fingers slowly tracing circles on her stomach. He reached out instinctively and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “She’s ... she’s incredible.”

“She is,” Jon agreed, with a smile of admiration. “Do you want to know what she loves most?”

Tommy nodded, eyes wide.

Jon reached across Linda’s relaxed body and took Tommy’s hand in his. “Slowness. The kind that makes her feel every little thing. Start with your hands. Let her feel your attention before anything else. Show her you’re not in a rush to be anywhere but with her.”

Tommy looked to Linda, who was now watching him with soft, inviting eyes. She reached for his other hand and brought it to her cheek.

“Just like that,” Linda whispered. “You make me feel so hot and wet, Tommy. Women my age don’t get wet easily, but you, my dear boy ... just looking at you makes my juices flow.”

Jon’s voice was gentle, reassuring. “Do you want to kiss her down there? Kiss my wife’s pussy? She’ll love it.”

Tommy leaned in, encouraged by their kindness. He began with a soft kiss on Linda’s cheek, then traced down to her jaw, feeling the warmth of her breath and Jon’s grounding hand on his back. Slowly, reverently, he moved lower, his lips brushing her belly and then her mound. With playful curiosity, he tugged gently on the curls with his lips, drawing a low, delighted laugh from Linda.

Then his mouth found her—her wet, swollen lips waiting for him. He kissed her there, savoring the heat and scent of her arousal, then moved to the firm, eager nub of her clit, drawing it gently between his lips.

Linda let out a moan, her hips lifting, pressing herself into his face.

“Easy,” Jon said softly. “Don’t rush. Let her feel it. Keep kissing her ... suck her clit. She’s already so turned on by you.”

Tommy listened, slow and attentive, kissing her with wonder and hunger. Just minutes later, Linda shuddered, a soft climax washing over her, her thighs quivering around his head, her release wetting his lips and chin with the sweetest reward.

Jon played gently with the boy’s hair, then coaxed him back from Linda’s glistening heat.

“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, smiling with affection. “Give her a moment to catch her breath. Then we’ll continue.”

Tommy rose to his feet and stretched instinctively, arms reaching high above his head. He stood barefoot at the edge of the bed, his slim chest rising and falling with each breath. He looked down at them—at Linda and Jon, naked and glowing in the golden hush of early evening. Linda reclined on the bed, her body glowing, her hair tousled like a goddess in the afterglow. Her breasts moved with each breath—full, soft, and real, the pink peaks of her nipples still stiff from pleasure.

Jon stood behind Tommy now, a grounding force, his hands steady on the boy’s shoulders.

“She wants you,” Jon murmured, his breath warm against Tommy’s ear. “She’s ready for all of you. Take your time. Feel everything. Let it happen slowly.”

Linda’s voice came like soft silk wrapping around him. “Come to me, sweetheart,” she said, arms open, eyes glowing.

Tommy moved between her parted thighs, drawn by instinct and awe. Jon stayed close behind, a quiet pillar of strength and warmth.

Linda’s hands slid to Tommy’s waist and then up, caressing his bare chest with tender reverence. She paused over his heart and kissed him there—deliberate, slow—like she was blessing him.

“You’re beautiful like this,” she whispered. “The nerves. The hunger. It’s all beautiful.”

Jon leaned in beside him, voice low and rich. “Touch her,” he said. “Anywhere. Let her teach you with her body.”

Tommy reached out, and Linda guided his trembling hands to her breasts. Her flesh filled his palms—heavy, warm, the nipples pebbled and eager. She moaned as his thumbs brushed them, her hips rising just slightly.

And then—Jon’s hand wrapped gently around Tommy’s cock. He stroked it slowly, reverently, drawing a helpless whimper from the boy. Then, with aching care, he guided the slick, flushed head to Linda’s opening.

Jon’s hand remained firm on Tommy’s lower back as he whispered, “Now ... go slow. Let her take you in.”

Tommy pressed forward, and Linda exhaled a deep, velvety moan as her folds parted around him. Her pussy opened willingly, lips wet and swollen, hugging the head of his cock as it slipped inside. Tommy gasped. She was so warm. So tight. Her body seemed to drink him in inch by inch, her muscles rippling as they drew him deeper.

“Oh, baby,” Linda moaned, her head falling back, hips lifting in time with his slow advance. “You feel perfect inside me.”

Jon’s hand steadied Tommy’s hips, guiding the rhythm as he buried himself fully. Tommy let out a soft cry as Linda’s wet heat wrapped around him completely. He was shaking—overwhelmed by the intensity of being held like this, by her body and by her love.

“That’s it,” Jon whispered, kissing his shoulder. “That’s how you give her everything.”

Linda’s hands explored his back, his arms, pulling him into her. The rhythm was slow and sacred. Her hips rocked with his in a dance as old as breath. She was teaching him how to move—not to perform, but to love. To feel.