Sunday, April 13, 2014


His lips were like pillows; big, pink, fluffy pillows that compressed when pushed against, but bounced back into shape after. I took the bottom one in my mouth, ran my tongue over it and then raked my teeth lightly.

When he moaned I pulled apart from him and looked over his shoulder. Sir had a leery grin on his face as he pounded away. I felt my face push into a pout and let it for the first time that night. I heard a sigh from behind me and tossed a glance back over my shoulder and watched the Hispanic hammer into my ass. I didn't want him, nor the short, feverish punches of his cock; I wanted my Sir. But dutifully, I pushed down with my stomach, arching and inching back into those black curly pubes.

The Boy with those almost cherubic lips was in pure heaven. His eyelids fluttered, his long blonde eyelashes opening to display bright blue eyes, revealing what I already knew; on every down stroke, Sir was hitting bottom, sealing an entire stroke from tip to root of his cock with a hard push of an inner button. I was jealous.

My hand reached out and tweaked the guy's nipple -- a pinch really -- and he yelped. Sir moaned as he undoubtedly felt a hard tug on his shaft as a result. I felt the bed being forced down around me and turned to notice the Hispanic man and his black, stylized goatee was moving onto the bed with me. I wasn't going to turn around... he wasn't my Sir, insolence didn't apply. I straightened my back so I was sitting up, him following as to not slip out, winding up back on his haunches behind me, completely still. We waited for Sir and the Boy opposite to mimic our new position before I slowly started to grind my hips, slowly working them up and down the shaft.

"You can do it Boy, move your hips" I sneered as Sir instructed him. The Boy wasn't me. A slightly bigger cock yes, harder muscles maybe, but a lack in experience and dedication that Sir would soon see in addition to the smaller, harder ass. When he finally rested his palms on Boy's hips, he'd realize his gaffe when the beloved and accentuated curve was largely nonexistent. Trading boys, ha.

Sir jerked his head and smiled again. My lips inched forward and the smiled widened. There was another kiss, my arm reaching out and giving Boy a few strokes while my ass rode as if on autopilot, rising up and down, squeezing at the root, throwing in a small rotation for variation that would illicit small moans and grunts behind me.

When my hand grabbed Boy's cock he instinctively pumped into my fist. Sir moaned. Another pump, another moan. And now the poor fucker knew how to ride.

As I let go, I watched as he switched his hips from pumping to rising, riding Sir's nine inches, covering the same middle five inches each time. And no wonder, the Hispanic behind me, his Papi, was only about six or seven tops. I straightened even more, dragging his hips beneath mine, turning my hands into fist on the bed, my lower back arch pronounced, and he started to move us, so that we were now facing the headboard as opposed to the side of the bed. Without waiting for Sir to copy, I began to ride harder and a bit faster, in slightly shorter strokes.

"Ahhh," I felt a hand on my waist and continued to ride, driving to the root and rotating. I looked to the side to see Boy going at a slower clip than I, struggling a little in new territory. The next time I rotated my hips against his waist, the hand on my hip was joined by another and I felt myself going forward towards the headboard. Papi started to hammer.

From base to tip, he hammered up into my body hitting my prostate every time, my fully hard cock throbbing at each beat. There was a string of Spanish, a curse and then I felt him unload, pushing in hard, his hands clamping like steel on the spot where my neck met my shoulder to hold me in place. It was only when he had stopped moving, pushing completely into me that I started my slow milking, pulling every drop out of him, casting my glance back over my shoulder and his to look into Sir's eyes. He was still leaning back, happy but not sated.

My eyes focused on Boy, his cock dribbling cum that was likely a result of seeing his Papi fuck me and having Sir deep in his guts. I watched as he pulled tenderly off of Sir's cock and realized at once that Sir hadn't cum. I smiled. Trading boys, ha.


  1. Nice! Always have found it hard to find guys that have the right attitude to make a swap like that work...

    1. yeah. it can very easily go wrong.