Cocky Batter Page 7

  Dale shrugged. “Fair enough. Then I fuck you. If you lose. And if you win, you fuck me.”

  Stefania gazed wide-eyed from Adrian to Dale. “That’s still super-hot. Go for it, sexy. Count me as your bonus, if you win.”

  Adrian thrust out his hand and Dale shook it firmly. He wondered if Dale noticed how moist his palm was. Either the heat from the crowd was getting to him or Adrian was already nervous—but about losing or winning? The stakes were high for him but seemed rather low for Dale. Dale would enjoy the outcome either way it went.

  No matter. Adrian didn’t plan on losing.

  Chapter 9: Foreplay

  The four of them gathered in Adrian's apartment an hour later, having shared a talkative taxi ride where they tried to learn a bit about each other. Stefania and Fitch were lounging on the king-sized bed, already tickling each other, necking and kissing.

  Adrian and Dale were in the kitchen, fixing nightcaps and exchanging grins. Dale seemed to be in his perpetual state of ease, but Adrian's grin was a reflection of his discomfort and the false courage he tried to imbue himself with. He'd never had an orgy before; not even a threesome for that matter. He realized that no matter the outcome of this idiotic bet, Dale had already won. He suspected he had played right into Dale's hands; whether he had resisted or welcomed the sexual adventure, Dale would have ammunition to pester him for months. Adrian could beat Dale with might, but Dale consistently outfoxed him intellectually, always one step ahead with verbal and mental sparring.

  Now, though he felt backed into a corner, the prospect of getting sucked off by two people at once excited Adrian, even if one was a pansy-ass dude. His grin spread wider from the thought and a chest-warming shot of straight vodka. He gazed from Dale to the frolicking couple on his bed. "So, huh, what do we do?"

  "Stop whispering," Stefania called, "and come join us."

  "Give us a minute.” Dale poured Adrian and himself another shot. “What’s up?”

  Adrian knocked back the thimble of alcohol. “I don’t want to get naked.”

  “You don’t have to,” assured Dale. “I’ll make sure they don’t try to strip you. Ok, Addy?”

  Adrian glanced from Dale to Fitch, and added, “Keep Fitch off of me. I don’t want that dude touching me.”

  “Come on.”

  They carried the bottle of vodka and some orange juice to their guests and stood side-by-side, looking down at Stefania and Fitch. The duo was on their bellies, and they crawled in sync to the edge of the bed: Fitch before Dale and Stefania before Adrian. Both grabbed the zipper of the man before them and tugged their pants open, then reached inside and pulled out the competing girths of penis.

  Fitch smiled and licked his lips. “Supper time,” he said to Stefania. He kissed her hard, with much more aggression than Adrian imagined he possessed, and then brought his other hand up to display the black blindfold they’d fashioned out of strips of one of Adrian’s crew tops.

  Like snakes, they slithered off the bed and rose, both stretching their strips taut while leering at each other.

  “No peeking,” reminded Stefania. “Turn around like good boys. Bend your heads.”

  Adrian stole one last glance at Dale for encouragement. Dale smiled and nodded, and Adrian shut his eyes. A moment later he opened them to blackness. His only active senses at the moment were sound and smell.

  Beside him, Dale said, “Don’t pull my clothes off.”

  “Me either,” added Adrian. “I’ll get . . . cold.”

  Neither Stefania nor Fitch replied, but he could hear them whispering. Then, a soft hand feminine to the touch—which could have been belonged to either of them—grabbed his hand and guided it to Dale’s.

  Adrian’s knee-jerk reaction was to pull away, but they forced their hands together again and held them firmly. He understood. This was Stefania and Fitch’s fetish, getting off on having a straight guy and gay guy flirt with intimacy while getting blow jobs. Okay. He didn’t care. It was a pleasant distraction from thinking about that twink Fitch putting his mouth on his dick and sucking him like a straight-up girl. At least Dale was a man about his sexuality.

  “Remember,” said Stefania, sounding as if she were behind them and in a corner. “We’ll each blow both of you. Then you have to guess which one blew you first. To the winner goes the spoils—that being us.”

  “Here goes,” Dale whispered giddily and squeezed Adrian’s hand.

  Adrian squeezed back and then coughed when a mist of his cologne wafted through the air in front of them.

  “So you can’t cheat by smell,” explained Fitch matter-of-factly.

  “Good idea, baby,” said Stefanie, much closer now and, it seemed, kneeling between them. “Let me and my man blow your minds.”

  A moment of silence later he heard Dale sigh and felt his hand tighten around Adrian’s. His blowjob had clearly started. Adrian felt his burgeoning hard-on grow, like when he heard Dale laughing outside the locker room. He began to wonder when his would begin until he felt the warmth of a deep canal engulf his cock. His body twitched at the sudden pleasure of the vacuum-like suction on his dick. Hands worked with furious attention to his nutsack, kneading and tugging between long slurps on his cock. Then the hands moved to his stomach. Rather, to his shirt buttons as they opened one, then two in quick succession. He forced them to his side, and then pulled his hips back and thrust forward, pushing his cock further into his benefactor’s mouth. The person sucking gagged with a splutter of spit and mewling.

  The phantom mouth accepted his cock deeper, sharing control as they pulled his hips forward with each powerful thrust and then pushed back, but did not come up for air. He enjoyed the coarse feel of the tongue wrapping around his shaft, the occasional scrape of teeth which sent a shiver of pain up his spine followed by rushing sweet relief.

  Then it was over, his dick dangling in the air, throbbing with built-up cum cut off right before he blew his load in either Stefania’s or Fitch’s mouth.

  Beside him, Dale was enjoying his blowjob, muttering oohs and ahhs and squeezing Adrian’s fingers as if to invite him to share the sensation.

  Then, for a second time, the anonymous mouth of one of his guests enveloped his cock. This time, the act was more delicate and sensual, without the haste of carnal desire. It reminded him of Fitch in the bathroom stall, leaned up against the wall while the mystery boy who wasn’t Dale sucked his cock, and then Fitch himself down on his knees, sucking not-Dale with a lackadaisical effort as if savoring every morsel of meat from his last meal.

  Those dainty hands that had wrapped his eyes in cloth now wrapped themselves around the base of Adrian’s cock. They gently squeezed while licking his shaft like a lollipop, and then sucking the tip of the cock. The sensation that shot up through Adrian’s body threatened to spill out in thick, white waves of relief, but then the hand tightened around his balls and choked the geyser off. Adrian ahhhed and Dale squeezed his hand in response.

  Before he lost control Adrian pulled back, inadvertently pulling Dale with from the strength of his grip. “Done,” he panted. “Bet over unless you want my cum sliding down your throat. Time to reveal the winner.”

  “Party pooper,” murmured Fitch.

  Adrian imagined Fitch’s lips turned up in a ridiculous pout. He reached up to his blindfold. “Can we take ‘em off now?”

  “Go ahead,” said Stefania.

  Adrian pulled the rag from his eyes and immediately turned to Dale with a smile on his face. “You’re gonna lose, buddy.”

  Dale glanced down at Adrian’s hefty meat. “I’ve already won,” he said with a look of sly satisfaction.

  “Hmmm.” Stefania sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned for Fitch to join her. “Then humor us. Which one of us sucked you off first? Both together, on the count of three. One, two, three!”

  “Stefania,” blurted Adrian at the same moment Dale declared Fitch the first one to blow him.

  Stefania and Fitch exchanged glances and laughed. “Well, we didn
’t see this coming. What do you guys have in mind for a tiebreaker?”

  Adrian glanced at Dale and saw a twinkle in his eye that conveyed the same thought. He grabbed hold of his cock and said, “We fuck you both. Together. Winners all around.”

  “Mmmm,” Stefania mewled. She patted the mattress between them. “Come hurt us, baby.”

  Adrian and Dale shuffled forward and stood, once more, beside one another in front of their respective partners. Stefania lowered the shoulder straps of her dress so that it fell around her waist, revealing a set of perky, round breasts small enough for Adrian to cup with his hands, yet big enough to fondle while sucking on the protruding dark brown nipples.

  She leaned forward and grabbed his still engorged cock. She stroked it, kissed it, and then offered it to Fitch to taste. He bent forward and gave a tentative lick, as if he hadn’t had it deep in his mouth moments ago.

  Fitch gazed up, not at Adrian, but to Dale. He motioned Dale closer with his finger, and then took both cocks into his mouth at once. Then Fitch beckoned for his girl, and she leaned forward to share the bulging cocks with her lover.

  Dale placed a hand around Adrian’s waist as he rocked with the bobbing rhythm from the eager competition of boyfriend and girlfriend gobbling his dick. Adrian didn’t flinch or move Dale’s arm. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Dale and smiled at Dale’s surprised face.

  Soon it was Adrian’s turn to have the dueling mouths service his dick.

  When she was tired of sucking, Stefania climbed onto the edge of the bed and positioned herself for easy entry. Adrian raised her dress and parted her pussy with two meaty fingers. Her moans urged him on and made his dick harder. Her soft cooing stroked his ego and made him eager to feel her warmth. He stepped up to the edge of the bed and rammed his cock in for all he was worth. He was a rough fuck, forgetting the brusqueness of his size and his intensity whenever he was in a mood. But she was loving it, mewling appreciatively and baiting him to fuck harder, to make her feel it.

  Beside him Dale had Fitch similarly bent over, his jeans wrapped around his ankles and his skinny, but well-conditioned ass spread and his pink asshole gleaming. Dale penetrated Fitch, slow and steadily. Fitch stroked his cock and grunted while Dale dug deep inside him.

  Dale and Adrian gazed at each other as they thrust in unison, grinning wickedly.

  Stefania pulled away from Adrian’s bear-like grip and spun around. “Hurt me, damn it. Fuck me in the ass, you big bastard!”

  She pushed her petite ass against him and he broke through the little brown opening with his first thrust. She winced, but then pushed back against him, forcing his cock deeper inside. He liked it this way, even more than the warmth of her pussy. He liked the feel of her ass while he gazed into Dale’s eyes, glittering with joy from this common experience, like sharing a special secret with his best childhood chum.

  “Damn girl!” Adrian breathed hard. Then, his legs shook and he shoved his dick to the hilt as he spewed semen in hard, buckling squirts.

  Stefania pulled away and turned with her tongue stuck out to receive the dripping remnants of his cum.

  Fitch, body spasming as Dale pounded away at his pert ass, twisted so that he could bring his mouth to hers.

  “You’ve got a filthy little mouth,” he said, and ran his tongue around her lips, catching errant splooge. He glanced back at Dale and begged, “Cum inside me, so my baby can taste how good we mix together.”

  He took control then, slamming his ass hard against Dale’s dick, squealing and moaning, his face glazed over in a way Adrian had never seen. Surely getting fucked couldn’t be that great?

  Dale began to spasm and cried out, “I’m cumming, oh God, I’m cumming!”

  Stefania again stuck forth her tongue to catch the leftover drippings, this time taking Dale’s meat into her mouth and slobbering it up with spit. She sucked the slaver up and spat against Fitch’s spread asshole. Then, to Adrian’s dismay, he watched as she slurped the mixture of spit and semen from her boyfriend’s ass.

  “Fuck me, baby,” she said to Fitch, as if no longer aware of Adrian and Dale.

  Adrian and Dale watched, sometimes grimacing and other times beaming like adolescents watching their first porno, as Stefania flipped Fitch on his back and took his huge cock, bigger than both Adrian and Dale’s, into her throat with one swallow. His cock was buried deep in her throat and yet she wasn’t choking.

  Adrian was mesmerized by her face, flushed by the effort but still pristine; not a drop of spittle dribbled from her mouth. Her eyes were wide open and taking in Fitch’s loving gaze.

  Adrian glanced away to smirk at Dale. “Can you do that?”

  “I’ll show you one day,” replied Dale. “I’m better.”

  Adrian fondled his cock as Stefania raised her head from Fitch’s cock and kissed it tenderly. She climbed atop him, brought her face to his and took his lips in one deep kiss. As the kiss continued, Stefania lifted herself and eased onto the rock hard, foot-long cock. The tip of his dick played at the opening of her pussy before her vagina finally swallowed the entire length.

  Adrian stroked his cock and stole furtive glances at Dale jerking his cock, too. Each one would catch the other’s gaze, holding it a moment, and then look back to the live sex show that may or may not have been orchestrated just for them.

  They watched Stefania bounce like a seasoned cowgirl riding a mechanical bull, bucking up and down, hands punching Fitch’s chest, as her black hair whipped around her face and muffled her cries of passion. She rode him hard, her wet pussy plopping as she came down deep onto his dick.

  “I love your cock inside me!” Stefania cooed.

  For the second time that night, as Fitch’s body went through the obvious throes of orgasm, Adrian came, this time spilling his seed on the floor before him.

  Next to him, Dale increased the speed of his jerk as he whacked his pud to his second climax.

  Fitch and Stefania laid beside each other, chests rising with exhaustion. “Did you like the show, boys?”

  Adrian looked at the puddles of cum between him and Dale. He smiled.

  “Your turn guys,” suggested Fitch. “Which one of you is gonna fuck the other?”

  Chapter 10: About Last Night

  Adrian awoke the next morning to find himself entangled with Dale. Stefania and Fitch had left, but he had no idea when. He propped himself on his elbows and looked around the room in wonder. The place was even more of a pigsty than usual. He couldn’t recall ordering pizza and beer or breaking open the Jägermeister and Mountain Dew, but the evidence was strewn on the floor, a trail of crushed beer cans leading to the bathroom door.

  Adrian lifted the sheet to peek underneath. He was still wearing clothes and so was Dale. Thank God. He was pretty certain if they had gotten drunk enough to fuck they wouldn’t have been sober enough to put their clothes back on. Though neither was wearing the club threads they’d bought at the boutique. They were both in the sweats they’d worn after yesterday's game.

  Had they fucked, after all?

  What the fuck?

  Had he gotten drunk enough to have sex with another man? And why didn’t he feel unnerved and disgusted by the idea alone, only wonder? Sure, he had an open mind when it came to others’ sexuality. But his own? No way. He wasn’t that fucking enlightened. Was he? He shook his head savagely.

  Fuck that shit.

  He needed to clean up. He glanced around the room and wondered where to start.

  A shower.

  Adrian crept from bed to avoid waking Dale. He didn’t care if his sleep was disturbed. He simply didn’t want to face Dale yet. Not while sporting hefty morning wood and memories of what they’d done before he’d gotten too drunk to remember. No thanks to God for that cruel joke.

  Adrian stretched before dropping to the floor to do his daily routine of pushups. His muscles ached and dared to rebel once he reached two hundred pushups. His arms buckled, yet he persisted even as his whopping hangover threatened to sen
d him crashing flat on his stomach. Three hundred. Four hundred. Five hundred!

  Feeling more confident about himself, he wiped away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead, then picked up his clothes as he made his way into the bathroom to shower.

  The cold water pummeled his body. Each bead seemed to magnify in diameter and weight once it made contact with his skin, hitting his chest like hail. The impact sent shockwaves as sharp as bee stings spreading down his arms.

  Adrian welcomed the pelting force. He turned around and invited the barrage against his back and buttocks. It helped to clear his head and wash away every notion of regret he felt from the previous night.

  He didn’t exactly feel shame. It was more embarrassment than regret, but what was there to be embarrassed about? Dale had been right there beside him during the debauchery; if there was remorse to be felt, they’d be sharing it together. So the only other worry to niggle at him was if other people somehow found out. Dale wouldn’t brag about it, at least not using Adrian’s name. Of that, he was somehow certain. He didn’t know much about Dale, and until last night he’d categorized him as a mere civil adversary. But he trusted him. Maybe more than even Pete and Rudy.

  Another curiously odd thing to feel.

  When he came out of the shower he was surprised to find Dale awake and the room near tidy.

  “Hey.”

  Dale looked up from the kitchen counter that he was wiping down with a rag and Windex.

  “I don’t know about you,” he said in greeting, “but I’m starving. That thing there”—he pointed at the small refrigerator in the corner—“is a petri dish of God knows what. I ordered us some grub. Should be here in twenty minutes more.”

  “Damn, thanks, man. Need help with that?”

  “Nah. I’m pretty much done.”

  Adrian scanned the small space around him. “What’d you do with the dirty clothes?”

  Dale kicked at a basket of clothes hidden from view. “I would have started a load, but I don’t know where the laundry room is. Not in the basement. I checked.”