And so we did. Sven fucked me missionary style. He was considerate, loving and, near the end, very athletic, pounding my ass with repeated thrusts, hitting my prostrate so often that he brought me to a great prostatic orgasm before I ejaculated. Geoff started to orchestrate by planting his hand on Sven’s cheeks and his thumb in the anal opening, but I waved him off and he sat back on his legs watching and stroking. Then he positioned himself over my head and I drew him in—ultimately earning a face-hosing as Sven deposited at the other end. My first spit roast.
Finally, recognizing that Geoff and I had each other always, we wanted to create a going away gift for Sven. We placed him in the center of the king on his knees and elbows. Geoff got behind and was soon planting his sword deep in Sven’s scabbard. When he had established a pace, I knelt at Sven’s head and began teasing his mouth with my rod. Soon he had accepted most of it and Geoff and I established a rhythm. I reached over and pulled Geoff into a deep soul kiss, forming the perfect love triangle. We both exploded at the same time—Sven taking my cream—the first time he had deliberately swallowed any man’s cum.
Exhausted, we stretched out on the bed, lazily stroking each other’s balls, cocks, and abs. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” Then it was shower time. We dressed, had a final drink, and Geoff and I left for home after embracing Sven.
“What a great night!”
When we reached the SUV, I looked over at Geoff, “I don’t think this is going to be something we want to try very often—if ever again.”
“I agree. Our sex has become so much more than an athletic, physical release—although it is that. Love does make a difference. I like Sven, but he will always be just a fuck-buddy—with your permission always.”
“Does that mean I get one too?”
“If you ever think you need more than me, just let me know. I’ve got lots of toys.”
“I guess that’s a no.”