Copyright© 2004 by Kien Reti

I looked up at her smiling face.

"Nice biceps, guy."

Well, yes, and nice of you to have noticed. I hoisted the barbell back over my head and gently cradled it down in the supports. Maybe next time I'd break my bench press record of 235 pounds. Ah, well... One of the unforeseen side-effects of making the health club coed was the constant interruptions you had to put up with. Not that this didn't have its benefits now and again.

"Thank you, my good woman, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather rather be admired for my mind. And by some weird coincidence, my given name actually is Guy."

"I'm sure your mind is quite adequate for most purposes, Guy, and if you hurry you can get dressed in time to come home with me. The name is Elise, by the way."

That was short and to the point. Modern sophisticated women know what they want and they're not particularly shy about expressing it. What a refreshing change from the Dark Ages, when you'd have to go through a whole song and dance just to get a date, never mind the goodies that might or might not come afterwards.

Elise electronically locked the door behind us. State-of-the-art security system. Plush carpeting. Framed paintings that looked like they might be originals. Elegant Victorian furniture with plush upholstery and fluted hardwood legs. The place positively reeked of good taste and money. Way, way out of my class.

"The guest bathroom's over thataway. Freshen up and shower. The bathrobe hanging on the wall hook should more or less fit you. Afterwards, go down the hall and into the bedroom. Don't bother knocking. The light will be off, so just slide under the quilt, and I'll be waiting, dear."

It was dark. I found the bed by bumping into it. Her body was warm and yielding under the covers, and her lips were sweet. Sweet! I couldn't stop running my hands over the flowing curves of her bare flesh. She couldn't stop running her hands over the hard bony angles of my bare flesh.

"What's your favorite position?" she murmured between kisses.

"Doggie usually works," I answered.

"I like sitting face-to-face with my legs wrapped around my partner, impaled on his rod, just hugging and kissing and rocking back and forth in sustained bliss. It's the most intimate way of connecting, of blending together into one flesh. Don't you think?"

"Sounds like a winner," I said. "Let's do it."

And we did.

Later on we did the doggie, too.

And later than that, she flopped over on her tummy and asked me to do her in the rear aperture. "The lube's in the top drawer of the nightstand," she said.

Her pussy had been soft and buttery and gently embracing, but her ass was tight and demanding, and throbbing with heat. I drifted off to sleep thinking that I could grow very fond of this particular woman.

A rushed breakfast and a quick kiss on the way out is not my preferred way of saying goodbye to a lover. But Elise was expecting her husband back momentarily. Or so she said.

Back at the health club pumping iron. That little tryst the previous night seemed to have pumped quite a bit of the iron out of me. Damn! I could barely manage 200 pounds now.

"Nice biceps, guy."

It was a male baritone. I turned my head to look. A well-built man who looked to be in his early thirties was giving me the eye. "Thank you," I answered. "And the name does happen to be Guy, with a capital G."

Well, why not? I'd pretty much had my fill of curves and orifices and female softness for a while. Maybe what I needed was the feel of a hard body for a change. Being bi does make for an interesting love life.

I let Dan talk me into going home with him. Home? We pulled into a very familiar street. And up to a house I had been inside of just a few short hours ago. Elise's house, in fact. It suddenly dawned on me that Dan was the missing husband.

"I want your ass," he said.

Why not? After all that hard work last night, I'd be perfectly content to just lay back (or bend over) and have it done to me. No responsibility, no performance anxiety, no stress, no strain. Just let the other guy do all the work.

"Sounds like a winner," I answered.

He gave me the full treatment. I'd never had my nipples sucked in quite that way, and his technique of fingering my asshole gave me fluttering palpitations. Two fingers, then three, and I was craving more. Much more.

He was kneeling facing me, and I was on my back with my torso raised up at an angle and my legs dangling over his shoulders. His cock thrust into the far corner of my gut when he rocked forward to push further in. Every so often, he would lean back and pull all the way out just to hear the slurp of lube and body fluids leaking out of my hole, and the low-pitched moan as air rushed in to fill the vacuum of my empty rectum. Sound effects could be every bit as sensual as physical sensation, he said.

Now he sat back and spread apart my legs, holding them at waist height. The "froggy position," he called it. This let the head of his cock drag across my prostate gland as he pushed into me. It also changed the insertion angle and decreased the pressure against the bend of my intestine. This would optimize the sensations for the receiving partner, he said. It would make being ass-fucked a memorable experience for me. He was right.

His cock slid smoothly in and out, and his groin slapped against my butt cheeks when he bottomed out. Every so often, he would stop and rest at maximum penetration, and reach a hand forward to play with my shaft. I was hard, very hard, but it was as if something kept me corked up tight. "Help me," I pleaded. "I can't come."

He pushed my thighs toward my chest, and splayed them open as far as they would go. His palms on the insides of my knees pushed my bent legs outward to the bed, on either side of my torso. This contorted posture stretched and loosened up my sphincter ring and let him thrust into me with greatly increased force. "Rubber asshole" was the name of this particular configuration, he said. It corresponded to the notorious "rubber cunt" position so beloved of bondage afficionados. The result was similar: a totally elastic receptacle open to full-force fucking. And it provided quite intense sensations to the passive party. Intense enough to blow the top of my head off.

I had to admit that he was pretty good at this sort of thing. A real master of sodomy, he was.

I was bent over the bed face down when he showed me an interesting little variation. He'd just barely enter my ass, maybe just an inch or so inside, then pull all the way out, then in again -- fucking me with very shallow strokes, actually fucking just the entrance. Sphincter noodling, he called it. Damn, I ached to have him further into me, and he laughed when I told him that. Then, when I couldn't stand it any longer, he slid all the way inside me in one sudden plunge and I came in a sudden storm surge of overpressure, spurting fluid under me all over the bedsheets.

Late, much later that night an urge came over me to do him, to stick my own aching cock into his hole. He was asleep then, with his back to me. I nudged him half awake, and he mumbled something unintelligible, which I took to be consent. When I tried to ease into him, he indignantly pushed me away.

"Listen, Guy. That's just not the way it's done. As the saying goes: 'please kiss me before you fuck me.' Huh?"

What he meant was that I should get him ready, the same way he had done for me earlier.

So I kissed him. And took his nipples into my mouth and gently rubbed my hands over his buttocks. And took his soft dick into my mouth and tongued it until it stood all the way up. Opened up my esophagus and let the hard cock press deep into my throat (What would it feel like, I wondered, to have him shoot straight down my pipes, right past my tonsils?). And finally lovingly encircled the inner darkness of his anal opening with lube, fingering and massaging it until it relaxed and the sphincter muscles went slack. Then he was ready. And finally willing.

Dan's ass was warm and buttery-soft inside. It felt so much like his wife's pussy that for a moment I flashed back to last night, and in my mind his buttocks melted into hers, and...

I curled up behind him, spoon fashion. Holding on to his hips, I eased in and out of him with no particular urgency. A few minutes of this heated me up to the point that I needed more vigorous movement, and I positioned him on hands and knees and got behind him. That was more like it. My thrusts increased in urgency, but I was nowhere near coming. I had already come so many times in these last couple of nights that I was still at it a half hour later with no relief in sight.

"Good heavens, man, you're wearing out my asshole," he said. "My deepest apologies, but I'm just too sore to keep this up."

There was no help for it. I was still hard and horny, so I pulled out of him and got down on my own hands and knees.

"All right, then you finish me off, Dan."

"You're on," he said.

He took me doggie style, just like I'd taken his wife. He had his hand on my cock, stroking it as he began pumping in and out of me. "You're a little tight inside," he said. "Too much tension, I guess. Well, I have a remedy for that. I'm going to 'fly' you."

He moved forward, almost onto my back, and straddled my buttocks with his legs. The inward pressure from his thighs loosened my sphincter, and and the fit of his cock into me became pleasantly snug, rather than tightly wedged. He was flying me! It took only a couple of minutes before I was spurting, and then my knees gave out and I collapsed flat on my stomach with him still deep inside me. We fell asleep in that position.

"So, where do we go from here, Dan?"

We were having breakfast. Elise could have taken a few lessons from him on the art of scrambling eggs. Maybe about single-minded devotion to fucking, too.

"You made a favorable impression on my wife, you know."

Wife? Elise had told him about me? Where was this leading?

"Of course, we're very fond of each other," he continued. "In a sense, you might even call it love. But we just can't seem to... relate on a physical level. I have certain needs, you see, and so does she. And we just can't... do for each other. So, we have to turn to strangers to take care of..."

"Dan, I can see how that might be difficult. You're a man of certain tastes, shall we say, married to an affectionate and sensual woman. You don't want to lose her, and presumably she feels the same way. Well, good and fine. But why tell me all this?"

"I was hoping you could help us, Guy. You're the first person I've run into that we can both connect with physically. Last night as I drifted off, it occurred to me that you might just be the missing link between myself and Elise. If you could only bridge the chasm between us... "

So that was it. I was supposed to be the glue to hold together a broken marriage. Did I really want to get involved in something that messy?

"... and possibly you might be free to join us for dinner tonight to discuss this further. Elise would certainly like to see you again, and I'm sure I'd enjoy your company, too. Shall we say about eightish?"

Eightish it was. Elise was resplendent in an elaborate period gown that wouldn't have been terribly out of place in the court of Louis XIV. Dan had on a too-tight clawhammer tuxedo jacket with a starched shirt front and cummerbund. I was wearing a raggedy flannel shirt over paint-stained jeans. The food was superb.

"Well, let's see if we can work this out," Elise said. "Dan and I both have developed strong feelings toward you. You satisfy certain physical needs for each of us and... I guess you could say we just plain like you. That could turn into something more significant over time, maybe even -- I hesitate to use the word at this point -- love. To sum up: sure, we'd like to share you, but there might be a scheduling problem. Suppose that on a particular night I want you, but you're already on with Dan. Well, I couldn't just barge in on the two of you, now could I?"

"I take it the two of you have hangups about a threesome," I said.

"Well," Dan answered, "not that, exactly. It's just that as a gay man -- there, I've admitted it, being gay -- I'm just not comfortable with even the sight of bare female flesh. My own wife, the woman I married for chrissake, her body nauseates me. And seeing her naked -- even in your presence -- I don't know if I could take that."

"And," Elsie broke in, "while I find gay male sex sensual and exciting, Dan is embarrassed about being watched in the act. I've talked to him about it, but... "

"So, what is it exactly that you propose?" I asked.

Elise smiled shyly. "A proposal is just what we had in mind. We invited you to dinner and we dressed up in formal regalia so we can present you with a proposal. We'd be honored if... if you'd tentatively consider joining us as a member... as a member of the family. We're proposing to you, all right. We're asking you to live with us, at least on a trial basis."

She motioned to Dan, and they both stood up and approached. Elise kissed me on the forehead and Dan took my hand in his. In unison, they spoke, "Guy, would you do us the honor of joining with us as a partner in our household?"