House on Park, Part 3

As we were leaving the shower, Eric took the tube of mentholated lubricant, squeezed out a large glob, and asked Claude to apply it, which Claude was more than happy to do, pushing his hand deep down the back of Eric's silk shorts and massaging the gel into Eric's ass as Eric grunted and twitched his butt. "As soon as this does its magic," Eric said. "I want you to have another go at me, Claude. I know we can do this."

"I do too, Baby," Claude said, giving his friend one of those tender kisses on the lips.

Eric brought the tube with him as we went downstairs. He tossed it on the dining table and went into the kitchen, where he threw together roast beef sandwiches and large glasses of milk. The three of us stood around the kitchen counter and wolfed them down while they told me about the active gay scene in this small town.

Eric was looking out the window when I heard him give a low whistle. "Well, there he is again."

"Who," I asked.

"We have an UPS man who parks across the street to eat his lunch almost every day. I'm often out there working on my car, and he just sits there and stares at me. I'm pretty sure I've seen him at Club 216 too. I've been afraid to approach him, because I'm not sure how old he is. He looks pretty young."

"Club 216?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's the centerpiece of our local gay scene. He's really cute and perky. I think I've seen him in the chorus line there from time to time. Well, he's out there again today. In fact, he's out of the truck now and coming this way with a package. And he's looking mighty fine."

We polished off our sandwiches as the doorbell rang, and Eric went to the door.

"Package . . . Sir," Claude and I heard from the kitchen, and we could clearly hear the catch in the young man's voice as he caught sight of Eric standing there in just basketball shorts.

"Yes, I can see. Quite a package," Eric answered and laughed. Claude and I took that as our cue, and arm in arm we sauntered over to the door and into the UPS man's view.

"Oh," he said weakly and dropped the clipboard he was handing to Eric to sign.

"We were having lunch and just gotten to desert. Interested in some desert?" Eric asked sweetly.

"Umm, y-e-s, maybe," the guy responded.

"First let me ask you something," Eric said. "Would you be working your way through high school with this job . . . or college?"

"College," was the response. "I'm a sophomore this year. But, why . . . ?"

"Just checking," Eric said with a big grin. "A hearty welcome. Here, I'll take that package," Eric said, as he took the package out from under the young man's arm.

"And I'll take this package," Claude said, as he reached out, took the delivery guy by his arms, and pulled him into the foyer.

Eric shut the door and turned back to the group. He looked the new arrival up and down very suggestively and said, "And a very nice package this is, too."

The young man seemed to blush. He couldn't be more than twenty-one at the outside and was slightly shorter than I was—about Eric's height. He looked quite spiffy in a brown work shirt that stretched over a well-muscled torso. His brown shorts were pretty short, but not tight. They flared a bit, but he had a big, firm butt that filled the back out. He had shoulder-length blond hair and a trim beard and moustache. His facial features were fine and delicate, his lips full, and he was wearing a little hoop earring. I looked him up and down and saw that he had very nicely muscled thighs and muscles, what I'd call sturdy rugby legs, covered with a fine, blond down.

But Eric wasn't looking at his face or legs. "Nice basket," he said, as he sank down to his knees in front of the young man and stared at his crotch. The shorts were tented out at this point and there seemed to be some movement in there. Eric put his hands on the front of the guy's thighs, and his hands disappeared up the leg openings of the shorts. The young man seemed to stagger and put his hands on Eric's head as Eric found what he was looking for. Eric's mouth went to the fabric. Claude quickly went down on his knees behind this new toy, and his hands went up the shorts from behind.

"God, what a nice, big butt," he said huskily. "And a loose hole," he went on to say. "I know what you've been doing." The young man sputtered and shuddered, as Claude evidently started some probing, and he looked at me almost in panic. I brought my lips to his as I unbuttoned and removed his shirt.

It didn't take the UPS guy long to get turned on and to deliver after that. He stopped running his fingers through Eric's hair and started running them across my chest and down my belly—and down into my shorts. He pushed my shorts down and started fondling my dick with both hands. He disengaged from our lip lock and moved his lips down to my nipples.

Eric indicated he wanted to see more of this guy's treasures, so he unsnapped his shorts, pulled the zipper down, and jerked his shorts and briefs down to the floor. This seemed fine with Claude, as well, as he started tonguing the guy's butt from the other end. At this attention, the young man's knees turned into rubber. Claude picked him up by his armpits and carried him over into the dining room. Flipping him around, Claude put him down on the edge of the table so that his back was on the table and his butt extended over the edge. His feet barely touched the floor. His cock was six-inch hard and thick now and was standing at attention. Eric and I had both tossed off our shorts as Claude was carrying the young man into the dining room. The delivery guy's own shorts had briefs had remained on the foyer floor.

"What's your name?" Claude asked pleasantly, as he stood over the table and wanged his meat, giving the guy an eyeful.

"Steve; my name's Steve. But what . . . ?"

"Oh, no particular reason, Steve," Claude said with a big smile. "I just sometimes like to scream the name of guy I'm fucking when my pecker shoots off in his stomach."

Steve started to come up off the table, but I was between his legs in a flash and pushed his chest back down on the wooden surface. Claude flipped around the table, moving pretty fast for a lumbering giant, and grabbed both of the young man's wrists and made him lay flat. The tube of lubricant was right there on the table, so I squeezed out a large glob from it and went right to working it into Steve's asshole. As Claude had noted, he already had a pretty loose asshole, and Claude had been lubricating it himself with tongue action, so I didn't waste any time getting down to business—and getting my hard cock into his hole.

The young man whimpered a bit as I went in a couple of inches, but I knew this was exactly what he wanted. He seemed a little tight still, so I raised his legs with my hands, running them up to his calves and pushing the legs out to the side. This opened him a bit more, and I glided right in up to the root and started a slow, rhythmic pumping action.

Eric came up onto the table like a cat, and gave the simple direction "69," upon which he straddled Steve, dangled his rod over the young man's mouth until Steve got the idea and started giving him head, and then Eric returned the favor, taking Steve's pecker in his mouth and deep-throating him.

Claude released Steve's arms and let the young man play in Eric's body hair. Claude then started giving Eric's asshole tongue and helped the lubricant that had been applied some time ago by stretching the canal with his fingers. He must have been satisfied that Eric had been prepared sufficiently, because he pulled a chair over and got up on it in a crouch, which put him at just about the right angle. Eric grunted and threw back his head when Claude entered him, but Claude was able to hide the whole sausage in Eric this time. It wasn't too long before we had all blown our wads and were satiated. Eric, Claude, and I all were happy to sign off on Steve's delivery. He wasn't walking too straight when he finally returned to his truck and drove off, but he certainly had a sloppy grin on his face.

So, we were fed and satiated for the moment and agreed that a nap for all was the next on the schedule. Eric said he had a special evening planned, so I knew we'd all need to be well rested. We retrieved our shorts, took a group shower, and toweled ourselves off while observing a challenging "no touch" rule. Eric and Claude went to that king-sized bed in the master bedroom, and, having told them I really did need to get some sleep, I was sent to a guestroom down the hall.