Then the dark-haired guy slouched down and stretched his legs as far as he could. Treston slowly sat on his dick until he could feel the guy’s hairy legs against his smooth bottom. The guy lifted Treston’s dress higher and Treston started riding him slowly. The other guys watched and jacked as Treston lifted his arms all the way up and arched his back. When he started to grind his hips faster, the dark-haired guy grabbed both sides of his ass and spread it apart. He was stronger and more aggressive than Treston had expected, which led Treston to suspect he might be gay and still in the closet. He seemed to know what he was doing.

At one point, when Treston least expected it, the dark-haired guy leaned forward and put his arms around him. While he was still deep inside Treston’s body, he stood up and carried Treston toward the bedroom. On the way to the bedroom, as Treston held the guy’s shoulders, with his legs around the guy’s waist and the pink high heels crossed at the ankle at the small of his back, Treston noticed Harlan was in the kitchen making himself a fried egg. And he still hadn’t removed the dark sunglasses.

When they reached the bedroom, the guy lowered Treston to the bed and rested him on his back with little effort, as if he weighed nothing. The guy didn’t pull out; he just climbed onto the bed and pushed his pelvis forward as hard as he could to go deeper. For a moment, he remained this way, with his eyes closed, his palms braced on the mattress on either side of Treston’s shoulders, and his head tilted back.

Treston lifted his legs and flung the pink high heels over the guy’s shoulders. For a moment he felt deeply conflicted over how much he was enjoying all this while the man he was in love with—the man he was going to marry that week—was in the kitchen frying an egg. Treston felt guilty because he shouldn’t have been enjoying this as much as he was. He felt even guiltier when he glanced up and saw the other two young men waiting to take their turns on him, and he couldn’t wait for them to begin. He blamed it all on a flaw in his basic physical makeup, something over which he had no control. He even wondered if there was a cure for liking sex too much. But when the dark young man started moving his hips faster and the lips of Treston’s anus began to respond by tightening, Treston took a deep breath, inhaled the smell of fried egg filtering in from the kitchen, and closed his eyes.

After the guy with the darkest hair came, he pulled out, stepped aside, and the next guy climbed up on the bed. This one was tall and thin, with lighter hair on his legs and a thin line of hair running down his torso. When he entered, Treston spread his legs and the pink high heels dangled over the guy’s forearms. Although he wasn’t as big or as rough as the guy with the darkest hair, he moved fast and he only stimulated the nerve endings around Treston’s anus even more. And when he came, he slammed into Treston so hard the bed moved sideways and Treston’s phone popped off the pillow and landed on the floor.

By the time the third guy entered, he grabbed the backs of Treston’s legs and pinned Treston’s knees to his shoulders. His dick had a slight upward curve, and this slight curve hit Treston’s male G-spot in a way that sent pre-orgasmic sensations through Treston’s entire body. This guy didn’t last long, but it was long enough for Treston to come without even touching his own dick. The guy gave him three hard slams and whispered something incoherent.

Treston came on the third slam and he knew the guy inside him came at the same time. It was a shame Treston didn’t know his name; he would have enjoyed saying it aloud while he’d climaxed. While the other two had been silent for the most part, this one seemed more sensitive and his entire body jerked and shuddered for a moment. He wasn’t the best looking of the three; his body was a little flabby and he had a receding hair line. But he did something to the spot deep down in Treston’s body that not even Harlan could do on his best night. The last time he’d experience a climax equaled this one was when Treston had been alone, in the privacy of his own bedroom, playing with a dildo. For a moment, it occurred to Treston maybe he should be looking for balding guys with flabby bodies and curved dicks. If they were all this good, he’d never have to touch his dick again to climax.

But when the last guy pulled out, all Treston did was smile and lower his legs. These guys would go back to their schools and their hometowns and their girlfriends and he knew he would never see them again. He wanted to go right into the bathroom and take off the thong he’d soaked with come but he didn’t want to be rude. The high heels were killing his feet and he wondered how women could stand wearing them all the time.

He stood up, pulled down the pink dress, and walked back into the living room where he found the guys putting on their clothes. For a moment, his small living room reminded him of a college locker room. He wanted to give them each a big kiss and thank them for being so nice. He’d been in situations like this where the guys hadn’t treated him well and he knew the difference. For a moment, he almost felt guilty about taking money from them for making him feel so wonderful.

Evidently, Harlan didn’t feel guilty at all. Harlan had finished his egg and he was standing near the sofa, talking to the guy with the darkest hair, with his open palm stretched out. “That will be one thousand dollars, guys.”

They reached into their pockets and pulled out wads of wrinkled cash. They’d sobered up enough by then to keep from looking in Treston’s direction. He didn’t mind the way they ignored him, even though they’d just done the most intimate things one human being can do to another. Treston had been through this before, too, with men, especially the so-called straight men. He knew they felt even guiltier than he did and he found this mildly entertaining in a way he never would have admitted aloud to anyone. The main reason he enjoyed this was because he knew although they wouldn’t look at him right now, if he ran into any one of them a week from now in the pink dress and the pink high heels, he could get them to do anything he wanted them to do and they would have forgotten all about their guilt. He’d learned something else about men with strong, private needs: they always come back for more.

As Treston turned to head back to the bathroom so he could remove the pink lace thong he’d messed up, he overheard Harlan say, “Hold on. This is only eight hundred and fourteen. Where’s the rest, buddy?”

Treston turned toward the sofa and saw Harlan shaking his fist in the dark-haired guy’s face. “You little fuckers got what you came here for. Now pay the fuck up,” Harlan said.




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