Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2002 20:33:32 EDT
From: Keybedder@aol.com
Subject: "Perfect Hosts"

PERFECT HOSTS by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2002 by the author.

It was Terry who introduced me to Richard and Wes. He'd called on Saturday
afternoon to make sure I was going to be at Splash, the new downtown bar,
that evening.

"My friends from Houston are in town and I'd really like you to meet them,"
he said.

"Any friends of yours are friends of mine, Terry, but you know," I said,
"I'd be more excited if it was ONE friend you wanted me to meet."

He wasn't in the mood to listen to me lament my current state of
singlehood. "Be there or be straight. Gotta run."

The bar was noisy, smoky and packed. I bought a beer, fought my way through
the crowd, and found Terry with two men whom I didn't know. He shouted out
introductions and we all shook hands.

"Why don't we go out to the back patio," Terry suggested.

There were fewer people outside and the music wasn't piped out here. We
found a place where we could all sit and look at, as well as hear, one
another.

Terry's friends, as I'd guessed, were partners. Richard was tall,
fortysomething, clean-shaven and putting on a bit of weight. He wasn't what
I would call handsome but had a pleasant, open face and a nice smile.
Wesley, Wes for short, was about five years younger, a few inches shorter,
and very definitely what I would call handsome, with a square jaw, dimples,
and a bushy mustache.

I'm slow to warm up to new people, but I liked them right away. Richard let
Wes do most of the talking, smiling when his partner said something funny.
Wes kept a hand resting most of the time on Richard's knee. His striking
looks caught stares from the regulars, but Richard didn't seem in the least
jealous. He even pointed out an especially obvious and hot cruiser who
walked by.

"Honey, go snare him so we can take him back with us," he said.

Wes laughed as he got up to take a leak. "You wish."

At that moment Terry excused himself to greet another friend, so Richard
and I were left by ourselves. By now I was a bit drunk and found myself
glancing at the bulge between his legs. Looking up, I saw that he had
caught me checking him out. His smile told me he didn't mind.

"It's our first visit to Austin and we've had a wonderful time," he
said. "All of Terry's friends are so nice. I hope you'll visit us next time
you're in Houston."

"Actually I come down pretty regularly," I said. "Business and the opera."

His face lit up. "You go to the opera? Wes and I subscribe. Which series?"

It turned out we had the same series, Saturday matinees.

"This is great. Most of our friends at home aren't into opera. You'll be
there in January for Rigoletto? Give us a buzz and we can go together."

By the time Wes returned, we were deep in conversation about the Houston
Grand Opera's season.

"Brian heard Pavarotti sing the Duke live, Wesley. Can you imagine?"

Wes looked at me and made a wry face. "You don't know what you've gotten
yourself into, Brian," he said. "Once Dickie here finds a fellow opera
queen he does NOT let go."

I shrugged and smiled. "I don't mind." It was true. I wanted to spend more
time with this pleasant couple.

Terry came back at that moment. "So how's it going, guys?"

"Brian's going to be our house guest when he comes down for the Verdi,"
Richard said, then turned to me. "Right, Brian?"

All I could do was shrug again. "Sure."

Terry raised his eyebrows in my direction. "My, don't we rate. I've never
gotten a weekend invite from these two cheapskates."

Wes snorted. "Some people just aren't cultured enough."

Terry shot back a smartass retort and our conversation quickly degenerated
into bitchy hilarity.

"They're darling," I said in the sudden quiet of Terry's car. We had just
dropped Richard and Wes off at their hotel. My voice was hoarse, my sides
sore from the evening's talk and laughter.

Terry nodded as he swung the wheel to take me back to the bar and my own
vehicle. "Together ten years and still crazy about each other. I don't know
how they do it."

He grinned. "Don't you go trying to break them up. I saw you giving Richard
the eye."

"Okay, I admit I thought he was hot. But so is Wes."

Terry nodded. "They're both quality guys." He raised his eyebrows at me.
"You really lucked out, getting invited to their house. I want a full
report."

"Brian!" Richard's voice exclaimed on the phone six weeks later. "We've
been waiting for you to call. You're still coming this Saturday, I hope?"

"If you'll still have me."

"Of course! Meet us in the lobby of the theater for drinks, about a half
hour before? We'll make plans."

They were waiting for me at the top of the escalator that led up from the
ground floor of the Wortham Center, home of the Houston Opera, to its
elevated lobby. Richard was dressed up like a Texan, in sport coat, jeans,
boots and bola tie, while Wes looked more conventionally dapper. I stepped
off the moving staircase and was gathered with a shout into their open
arms.

Richard and Wesley were serious fans--they had orchestra seats. During
intermission I came down from the balcony and found them in the crowd,
holding drinks. To my pleased surprise, there was a glass of wine for me.

We discussed the performance so far. I laughed at Wes's blunt assessment of
the leading tenor.

"Honey, I'm clapping for those tights he's wearing, not for those squawks
he calls high notes."

"I'm really looking forward to tonight," I said.

"So are we," Richard said. He and Wes exchanged a glance.

Warning chimes sounded at that moment and we started to return to our
seats. I felt the light touch of Richard's hand on my back.

After the opera we met again in the lobby and decided on an Italian place
within walking distance. The restaurant was small and convivial, an oasis
of intimacy on the ground floor of an otherwise dark and silent skyscraper.
The manager greeted Richard and Wes as old friends and seated us in a
booth, the two of them sitting across from me.

The food was delicious and conversation flowed as easily as the wine. By
dessert time I was quizzing the two about their past.

"So how did you guys meet?"

Wes said, "Richard cruised and seduced me. End of story."

Richard rolled his eyes. "He's so crude. I went to buy a new suit at
Foley's. Wes was working in the men's department then, before he got moved
up to manager. Something clicked when we saw each other. I took a suit into
the fitting room, got my pants off and before I know it he's knocking on
the door, asking if he could help."

"Excuse me?" Wes said in mock indignation. "I believe I remember you asking
ME for help, standing so the whole store could see the hardon in your
boxers."

Richard winked. "What can I say, it was a slow night." He gave Wes an
affectionate shove. At that moment I became aware of a pressure against the
outside of my left calf. Richard was sitting opposite me. Was this a
come-on? There was no way to react without making a scene. My heart began
to beat faster and I said the first thing that came into my head.

"You guys are great together. What's your secret?"

The two of them looked at each other and chuckled. Richard turned to me.
"There's no secret, Brian. You work hard at it, that's all."

"I don't know, Dickie," Wes said. "I think we do have a secret. We share
everything."

"Maybe that's true."

The pressure on my leg was gone, but now I felt a gentle hand squeeze my
right knee. Was it Richard again, or Wes? I felt dizzy from the long day,
the wine and covert attentions I was receiving. When Richard raised his
eyebrows and said, "Shall we?" I stood so quickly I upset my fortunately
empty coffee cup. They smiled at my sudden enthusiasm.

Richard paid the bill, waving away my inquiries about how much I owed. At
the door he turned to me.

"We'll drive you to the parking garage, and wait outside so you can follow
us."

Before we went home we hit one of their favorite watering holes. As it got
later Richard and Wes became more and more affectionate. I was never
without an arm around my shoulder or a hand resting on my knee. Wes was
telling the truth when he said the two of them shared everything. I needn't
have worried about making a scene at dinner. I wondered what would happen
later at their house. My cock stirred at the thought.

Finally we left the bar. We'd paced ourselves so I wasn't too worried about
driving. It was a long way to Richard and Wes's place, though. We must have
driven a half hour, taking the freeway, driving past interminable strip
malls and snaking through streets in a subdivision somewhere in the south
part of Houston before we came to a two-story brick house. Their car
disappeared into the garage. I parked on the street and walked to the front
door. A few moments later Richard's smiling face appeared.

"I know what you're going to say. Where the hell are we? Come on in."

I stepped into a front hall with a vaulted ceiling, the walls painted
white. Richard and Wes gave me a quick tour of the ground floor. The two of
them had good taste, as well as the money to indulge it.

"Too bad it's dark and you can't see out the back. Wes put in this
incredible garden around the pool. It's like a tropical paradise."

I stifled a huge yawn at that moment and Richard noticed. "Why don't I take
you up to your room."

"That might be a good idea," I confessed. The lascivious thoughts I had
been entertaining back at the bar had disappeared. The thought of a warm,
comfortable bed seemed more enticing at the moment than anything else.

When we got upstairs Richard ushered me into a small guest room with its
own bath. "Make yourself at home. I put towels for you in the bathroom.
I'll be back in a while to see if you need anything."

I thanked him, though I planned to be asleep by that time. I took off the
dress clothes I'd worn all day and hung them in the closet. I had just
finished brushing my teeth in the bathroom when I heard a soft knock on the
door.

It was Richard. He had changed into gray sweat pants and a T-shirt. "I'm
glad you're still up, Brian. Wes and I want to invite you to our room for a
little nightcap."

For the first time that day I tried to turn down their hospitality.
"Thanks, Richard, but it's awfully late and I've already had too much to
drink--"

"I'm not talking about a drink. We'd like to offer you a massage before you
turn in."

"A massage?" Something in his smile rekindled my interest.

My host nodded. "We've both had training, but we're not interested in
becoming professionals. This is a service we offer to our friends."

"You both do it at the same time?"

"Yes. Have you ever been massaged two on one? It's quite an experience."

His blue eyes gazed steadily at me. I kept my voice casual. "Why not."

Richard's smile broadened. "Great. Follow me. You won't need to put
anything else on."

We entered the master bedroom, as spacious and carefully decorated as the
rest of the house. The light was dim and soft music was playing. A plain
wooden massage table covered with a white fitted sheet stood next to the
king-size bed.

Wes was there, wearing only a pair of gym shorts. I drew in my breath at
the sight of his toned body, aware of a growing pressure stretching the
front of my underwear.

"We have a client, Wes."

"Welcome, Brian," Wes smiled. His eyes sparkled with the same excitement I
had seen in Richard's the moment I opened the guest room door. He gestured
to the massage table. "We'll start with you on your stomach."

I felt Richard's hand on my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, "May I
undress you?"

I raised my arms and let him pull my T-shirt over my head. He pushed the
briefs I was wearing down my thighs. Two steps and I stood naked before the
two of them. A thrill ran through me at the open desire in their
glances. My cock slanted out, half hard.

"Very nice," Wes said. "Your table awaits, sir."

Richard touched me lightly on my bare back, the same way he had in the
theater lobby that afternoon. I moved forward to the massage table and lay
on my stomach, my heart thudding in my chest. Despite the tranquil setting
there was an electricity in the air. There was nothing to do but go with
the flow and see where it took me.

For the moment the two lovers seemed intent on giving me what they had
promised. They positioned themselves on either side of the table. Richard
took a handful of massage cream and spread it on my back. They set to work
on my back, shoulders and legs in tandem, their strokes long and sure. I
enjoyed the novel sensation of two pairs of hands kneading and rubbing my
muscles. We talked very little and the warmth of the room, the dim light
and soft music soon relaxed me to the point of dozing off.

Wes leaned down and whispered to me, "I'm going to take a little break.
Richard will keep working on you." He walked away as Richard started on my
butt. His strokes became slower, less methodical and more sensuous. My cock
hardened underneath my body.

I became aware of someone standing in front of me. When I opened my eyes
and looked up there was Wes. He had discarded his gym shorts and wore only
a white jockstrap, the pouch full. In one hand he held a small brown glass
bottle, uncapped. He smiled and raised it to my face.

I covered one nostril and inhaled. As the rush from the poppers hit I felt
a finger slip between my butt cheeks and into my asshole, drawing a soft
moan from my throat.

I took another hit from the bottle as Richard's finger moved, massaging my
prostate and sending waves of pleasure through me. I wanted more, but when
I tugged at Wes's jock he moved back, shaking his head.

"We aren't done with the massage. Time to turn over, Brian."

"That's right," Richard said, withdrawing his finger. "Trust us, you'll
like the rest."

"Well, okay." I turned onto my back with mock reluctance. My liberated cock
lay hard and dripping on my stomach, pointing straight at my navel. Richard
laid a hand over it. "Very nice."

Standing behind my head, Wes massaged my chest, paying lots of attention to
my nipples. Richard slipped off his sweats and t-shirt. When he
straightened my eyes widened at the sight of his cock jutting beneath the
swell of his stomach.

"No wonder he calls you Dickie." Richard laughed as he grasped my more
modest endowment and began to stroke it. Wes bent over me at that moment
and took one of my nipples into his mouth. I squirmed and tried to grab
them both, gasping, "Please."

Wes bent and wrapped one steely arm around my head. I felt his warm breath
on my face as he said, a chuckle in his voice, "Behave, or we'll have to
get rough."

"Maybe it's time, Wes."

"Think so?" Wes's face disappeared and was replaced by Richard's,
descending on my mouth in a long, wet kiss.

"Yes, I think so," Richard said when he released me. "Ready for bed,
Brian?"

I nodded with alacrity. Wes peeled off his jockstrap. Now we were all naked
and hard.

"We have only two rules," Richard said. "The first is no barebacking. The
second is you're our guest tonight, so you don't do any work. Just lie back
and enjoy."

I found out what he meant as I lay on my back on the king-sized bed, my
hosts on either side of me. It was as if they were continuing the massage,
except both of them now used their mouths, cocks and asses in addition to
their hands. Richard sucked my cock while Wes straddled me, holding my head
up and pushing his organ, not as mammoth as Richard's but impressive
enough, into my waiting mouth. He then turned and sat on my face, his
shaved hole opening for my eager tongue.

They switched places. Wes's hands parted and lifted my legs so he could get
a taste of my hole, while Richard lay beside me and gave me another
passionate kiss that went on and on, leaving my mouth only so he could suck
and bite at my tits. He then reclaimed my cock while Wes was still rimming
me.

My hosts made it clear they were there for my pleasure. I could touch any
part of their bodies I wanted but they would not let me use my hands on
myself. Any time I tried to speed the pace by jacking off my hand was
removed gently but firmly. To test them I resisted once, which resulted in
Wes forcibly fucking my face, grinning, while he and Richard pinned my
outstretched arms to the bed. I got the message.

After a while I sensed a pause in the action and opened my eyes. Wes was
watching Richard unroll a rubber over his erection. He caught my eye,
smiled and moved into position between my legs, hooking them over his
shoulders. Wes mounted my chest again, and I opened my mouth in
anticipation. I felt Richard's cock nudging at my asshole. A moment later
it broke through and slid in, my cry of mingled pain and pleasure muffled
by Wes's stuffing his pole down my throat.

After Richard had fucked me for a while, Wes took his turn, then it was
Richard again, until I lost track of how many times they switched
off. Meanwhile, my mouth was constantly filled with hard cock, tender ass
or urgent tongue, my cock ministered to either by mouth or hand.

It seemed as if they could go all night, but finally I had enough of this
sweet torture. I asked for release, at first politely, then more urgently.
Repeatedly they shook their heads, smiling, until I was pleading, raging
and all but crying, half insane at being held on the edge so long, At last
I saw Richard, who was fucking me, nod to his partner. Wes positioned
himself behind my head and grasped my ankles, pulling my legs toward him
until my knees were pressed into my chest. Richard leaned forward and began
to plow my ass with rapid thrusts, his belly shaking as he accelerated to a
brutal pace. His eyes locked on mine as he grasped my slick cock and began
to jack it hard. I felt the sperm gather in my balls and fire rise in my
insides. I shouted with triumph as hot jets shot from the purple head of my
cock and splattered across my stomach.

Richard's face was red, his breathing loud and hoarse. I squeezed my ass as
tight as I could, drawing the cum out of his spasming cock into the rubber
inside me. As our bodies heaved in the throes of orgasm Wes released my
legs, turned and straddled me one last time. A few strokes on his cock and
he blew his load in my face. I closed my eyes and felt the warm fluid
trickle into my mouth, the grassy odor filling my nostrils as Wes's shouts
of ecstasy joined with ours. I raised my head and cleaned the rest of the
cum off him.

We stayed joined as our breathing returned to normal. After a while Wes got
up off of me and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sound of
running water. Richard pulled out of my tender ass, peeled off his rubber
and lay beside me. He took me in his arms and gave me a gentle kiss.

"How are you doing?"

I shook my head and sighed. "That was incredible."

He laughed and patted my cum-stained face. "Glad you enjoyed it. Just lie
there and relax. We'll get you cleaned up."

Wes returned. "Bath's ready."

I reluctantly rose off the bed and followed him into the adjoining
bathroom, Richard bringing up the rear. The sunken tub was filled with
steaming water. Wes stepped in, then turned and beckoned me forward. When I
was in, he turned me so that my back was to him, then lowered himself into
the water, pulling on my arms so that I was compelled to follow his
lead. We ended up with me sitting on Wes's lap, surrounded by liquid
warmth. I sighed, closed my eyes, and relaxed against his shoulder.

The bath wasn't large enough for three, so Richard sat with his legs in the
water, moistened a washcloth and wiped the cum off my face. Wes reached for
a bottle nearby and began rubbing shampoo into my hair. He then rinsed me
with handfuls of hot water. It felt wonderful.

As he continued holding me, Wes began to move his hands slowly over my
body, tweaking my nipples, caressing my thighs, kissing my cheek. Soon I
felt my cock stirring again. Wes grasped it and began to stroke it with
increasing purpose. As I gave in to the pleasure I looked into Richard's
smiling face. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue
darting inside as Wes stepped up the pace of his hand on my cock. Soon I
threw my head back and gasped as the second orgasm of the night shuddered
through my body.

When I caught my breath they helped me from the tub, dried my hair and
body, and dressed me in a white terry cloth robe. By now my legs were
rubbery and I stumbled when I tried to walk. Chuckling, Richard and Wes
each took hold of one of my arms and led me down the hall to the guest
bedroom.

They escorted me to the bed. Wes turned down the covers while Richard
divested me of my robe. Tucking me in like kind parents, they kissed me
goodnight, one on each cheek.  "Sleep tight, Brian," Richard said as he and
Wes left, snapping off the light.

I awoke to sunlight reflecting off the wall of the guest bedroom. I
stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock on the end table. It was half
past nine. My underwear was neatly folded on a nearby chair, my shoes
underneath. My bag sat on the floor.

I pulled on a pair of jeans I had packed and a fresh t-shirt and wandered
downstairs, following various tempting smells until I came to the
kitchen. Richard was sitting at the table with the Sunday paper
disassembled before him, Wes was at the stove scrambling eggs. He looked up
and smiled.

"Morning, lazy guy. Ready for breakfast?"

"I came in to leave your things early this morning," Richard said. "You
were out like a light."

"I slept great," I agreed, stretching again. "I feel fantastic. Except," I
added slyly, "My butt's a little sore." The three of us burst out laughing.

After breakfast I went upstairs, put my shoes and shirt on and got my
things. Richard and Wes gave me bear hugs and kisses at the door.

"I never thought going to the opera could be this much fun," I told them.

"Our pleasure, Brian," Richard said, squeezing my shoulder. "Come back
anytime. We mean it."

As I drove off I saw them in the rearview mirror standing in their
driveway, waving.

I ran into Terry a week or so later. He asked about my visit with his
friends.

I smiled. "They were the perfect hosts."

END