The Sublime Cock
16B:  I AM JACK’ S DICK…JUST FOLLOWING THE RULES

"Well…I was wondering about Jack’s question at the end…" John replied, "you know…about whether I was ‘up for a three-way’… I think that’s how he put it…um…Do you think he was serious?" I really did laugh out loud then.

"Sorry," I said, "Are YOU interested?" I was actually a little surprised by that. Possibilities abounded when one kept his options open, although that particular option didn’t seem very viable at the time.

"Ha. No, not like you think…but…in the abstract…I’d be interested, yes…but with you and your brother?—"  

I quickly cut John off before he could box himself into something I might later regret…just in case. “Look, John, let me just say first that if you ARE interested, if your heart’s secret desire is to be up in the middle of a three-way, or not just any three-way but one with Jack and me…I mean who wouldn’t want to be in bed with two of ME, for God’s sake?…Then your saying that wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all. Fuck, if you told me that you sought me out, seduced me,  just because I’m a twin…I’d get that…it’d make me even more thankful that I have the brother I have.  I’d have to really think about how I’d feel about seeing you with another guy…but it wouldn’t be out of the question. So you were about to say…?”

"I was about to say," John said, "before I was so rudely interrupted, that I AM interested, that my heart’s secret desire is to be up in the middle of not just any three-way but one with you and Jack …I mean who wouldn’t want to be in bed with two of YOU… In fact, Joe, now that you are onto me, I confess that I sought you out and seduced you specifically because I knew you had a hot-as-fuck identical twin…I could tell by looking into your eyes…" We both had a good laugh at that. 

"Seriously, though," I said, "that’s a ‘yes?’  You’d be interested?"  

"Don’t forget that I’ve heard more than a few of your stories about you and Jack," John said, "all hot as hell, by the way, so, yeah, the idea has its…possibilities…I guess like you, I’d be open to the idea…maybe," John said.

"Well, the truth is I don’t know if Jack was being serious or not.  My guess is he was just fucking with you…" I said, remembering then that a week or so before Jack had texted the same question to me and I had ignored it. Maybe he was fucking with me. "But if he WAS serious, it seems to me that a threesome with we three guys could only be a very strange, unsatisfactory, mess. I think it would be, anyway. I mean, I can’t even wrap my brain around who would do what to whom." "What do mean?" John asked.

"Well, I’ve told you a good bit about him and me, um, growing up, but maybe not everything…see, when it comes to him being with guys, Jack has a really particular set of ‘rules’ about what he will and won’t do, what the other guys can or can’t do," I explained. "For instance?" John asked. 

"For instance…I know I told you that by the time we were, oh, 15 or 16, I was dead set on sucking Jack’s cock. At first, that just seemed to me to be the next new thing to do, a natural progression, right?  But sucking Jack’s dick, which, by the way, is just like mine, except bigger and better, became my main desire…then…my fixation… obsession, not literally, Mr. Psych Major, you know, but blowing Jack was a big fucking deal to me.  But he drew a bright fucking line there. He was fine with jacking off, edging together, fingering each other, no problem with jacking me off and vice-versa. But blow jobs were out of the question, still are as far as I know. 

"Jack will also happily fuck another guy in the ass but will not take one up his own ass. You two guys seem to be the same on that last point, so you and Jack won’t be fucking each other, that’s for sure. And I don’t think Jack would fuck me, even assuming I would let him, because we’re brothers or whatever. Neither you nor I could blow him or expect to be blown by him…add all that up and there’s not that much for three guys to do. "

"Basically your saying Jack’s rule was anything between you two was cool…except no cocks in any bodily orifice?" John asked.

"Funny…I never thought about it like that, maybe because I never wanted to fuck him, and Jack never said it like that, either…but you’re right.  With one small exception - small as in short-lived, it didn’t last long at all - but not long after we turned 17, Jack was all for us fucking and he tried pretty hard, only briefly though, to get me to agree. Actually what he first suggested was that I fuck him…"

"Really? I’m kind of surprised to hear that, I guess," John said, "considering you just said there’s no way Jack takes one up the ass. Plus he made that very clear to me today, too."

"Indeed he did," I said, smiling. "Consider that to be Jack’s default position - on top. This brief exception was just a time when something else was possible - in theory - but it’s part of a lot longer story - I don’t mind telling you the whole thing, but not tonight," I said. "The bottom line is Jack came up with some hare-brained ideas as…substitutes, good a word as any…for me blowing him, which under the rules, would’ve required him to blow me, and nothing was more off limits than that."

"So you could have fucked him but couldn’t suck him, and if you did fuck him, which wasn’t your deal anyway, the rules meant—" John said.

"Precisely. Reciprocity." I interjected. "Anyway, all that blew over pretty quickly - Jack started fucking other guys, I kept on blowing other guys…and Jack decided after the first time he fucked a guy that nobody was ever going to fuck HIM in the ass, so—

"What happened to reciprocity?" John asked.

My phone let both of us know that a text message had just arrived. Two texts. Three texts. I ignored all of them, didn’t even check to see who they were from. I knew who they were from.

"Another rule change," I said. "After that, reciprocity only applied to guys Jack ‘cared about.’  Which makes for a decent segue back to what we were really talking about…this hypothetical three-way with Jack. As I was saying, or was about to say…even if Jack was being serious about a three-way, then either he hasn’t thought it through or he has seriously changed his rules - who knows, maybe he has."

"Sounds like to me Jack changes the rules whenever it suits him," John said. 

"Maybe, some rules, anyway. Some rules have never changed…But under the rules I know—"

"Can I interrupt to ask when the last time you and Jack ever talked about - I mean expressly, not assumptions, old habits, whatever - a new rule change, or what exactly the existing rules were?" John asked.

"You just did," I laughed, "but the circumstances are also part of that much bigger story for another time. But just when? It would’ve been later that same year…when he ‘made’ me fuck this girl, Lacy…so we were 17, almost 18…that’s the last time I ever offered, begged, whatever, to suck his dick…"  

[[You may think I tossed out that bit about being ‘forced’ to fuck Lacy gratuitously, as a teaser, perhaps, but that would not be accurate. I did it to amend the question I was answering ’ when was the last time you and Jack talked about his no-blow rule?’ If hadn’t done that I would’ve had to either lie to John or tell him, ‘why, just this morning, when  Jack explained to me why he couldn’t honor my request to fuck me in the ass this coming week…’ ]]

"Made you fuck Lacy? For another day, I assume?" John asked. I nodded. "So not long before you turned 18 then? That’s nearly four years ago, Joe."

"I take your point," I said, "but all I can say is that under the rules I KNOW, I just can’t see that a three-way among us would be much more than Jack watching you fuck me, and one of us giving him a hand job…" I paused to think a few seconds to consider carefully before I plowed  ahead, "or, let’s say that I’m wrong and that Jack would fuck me - I really don’t know if he would or wouldn’t now - he damn sure wouldn’t let either of us fuck him. You can bet that rule hasn’t changed. But let’s say Jack will, would,  fuck me and I’d let him…would you really be cool with watching Jack fuck me in the ass?"  

"As hot as I think that would be, I wouldn’t be watching," John said as he winked at me, "I’d be sucking your sweet fat cock while he pummeled your ass."

16B: I AM JACK’ S DICK…JUST FOLLOWING THE RULES

"Well…I was wondering about Jack’s question at the end…" John replied, "you know…about whether I was ‘up for a three-way’… I think that’s how he put it…um…Do you think he was serious?" I really did laugh out loud then.

"Sorry," I said, "Are YOU interested?" I was actually a little surprised by that. Possibilities abounded when one kept his options open, although that particular option didn’t seem very viable at the time.

"Ha. No, not like you think…but…in the abstract…I’d be interested, yes…but with you and your brother?—"

I quickly cut John off before he could box himself into something I might later regret…just in case. “Look, John, let me just say first that if you ARE interested, if your heart’s secret desire is to be up in the middle of a three-way, or not just any three-way but one with Jack and me…I mean who wouldn’t want to be in bed with two of ME, for God’s sake?…Then your saying that wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all. Fuck, if you told me that you sought me out, seduced me, just because I’m a twin…I’d get that…it’d make me even more thankful that I have the brother I have. I’d have to really think about how I’d feel about seeing you with another guy…but it wouldn’t be out of the question. So you were about to say…?”

"I was about to say," John said, "before I was so rudely interrupted, that I AM interested, that my heart’s secret desire is to be up in the middle of not just any three-way but one with you and Jack …I mean who wouldn’t want to be in bed with two of YOU… In fact, Joe, now that you are onto me, I confess that I sought you out and seduced you specifically because I knew you had a hot-as-fuck identical twin…I could tell by looking into your eyes…" We both had a good laugh at that.

"Seriously, though," I said, "that’s a ‘yes?’ You’d be interested?"

"Don’t forget that I’ve heard more than a few of your stories about you and Jack," John said, "all hot as hell, by the way, so, yeah, the idea has its…possibilities…I guess like you, I’d be open to the idea…maybe," John said.

"Well, the truth is I don’t know if Jack was being serious or not. My guess is he was just fucking with you…" I said, remembering then that a week or so before Jack had texted the same question to me and I had ignored it. Maybe he was fucking with me. "But if he WAS serious, it seems to me that a threesome with we three guys could only be a very strange, unsatisfactory, mess. I think it would be, anyway. I mean, I can’t even wrap my brain around who would do what to whom." "What do mean?" John asked.

"Well, I’ve told you a good bit about him and me, um, growing up, but maybe not everything…see, when it comes to him being with guys, Jack has a really particular set of ‘rules’ about what he will and won’t do, what the other guys can or can’t do," I explained. "For instance?" John asked.

"For instance…I know I told you that by the time we were, oh, 15 or 16, I was dead set on sucking Jack’s cock. At first, that just seemed to me to be the next new thing to do, a natural progression, right? But sucking Jack’s dick, which, by the way, is just like mine, except bigger and better, became my main desire…then…my fixation… obsession, not literally, Mr. Psych Major, you know, but blowing Jack was a big fucking deal to me. But he drew a bright fucking line there. He was fine with jacking off, edging together, fingering each other, no problem with jacking me off and vice-versa. But blow jobs were out of the question, still are as far as I know.

"Jack will also happily fuck another guy in the ass but will not take one up his own ass. You two guys seem to be the same on that last point, so you and Jack won’t be fucking each other, that’s for sure. And I don’t think Jack would fuck me, even assuming I would let him, because we’re brothers or whatever. Neither you nor I could blow him or expect to be blown by him…add all that up and there’s not that much for three guys to do. "

"Basically your saying Jack’s rule was anything between you two was cool…except no cocks in any bodily orifice?" John asked.

"Funny…I never thought about it like that, maybe because I never wanted to fuck him, and Jack never said it like that, either…but you’re right. With one small exception - small as in short-lived, it didn’t last long at all - but not long after we turned 17, Jack was all for us fucking and he tried pretty hard, only briefly though, to get me to agree. Actually what he first suggested was that I fuck him…"

"Really? I’m kind of surprised to hear that, I guess," John said, "considering you just said there’s no way Jack takes one up the ass. Plus he made that very clear to me today, too."

"Indeed he did," I said, smiling. "Consider that to be Jack’s default position - on top. This brief exception was just a time when something else was possible - in theory - but it’s part of a lot longer story - I don’t mind telling you the whole thing, but not tonight," I said. "The bottom line is Jack came up with some hare-brained ideas as…substitutes, good a word as any…for me blowing him, which under the rules, would’ve required him to blow me, and nothing was more off limits than that."

"So you could have fucked him but couldn’t suck him, and if you did fuck him, which wasn’t your deal anyway, the rules meant—" John said.

"Precisely. Reciprocity." I interjected. "Anyway, all that blew over pretty quickly - Jack started fucking other guys, I kept on blowing other guys…and Jack decided after the first time he fucked a guy that nobody was ever going to fuck HIM in the ass, so—

"What happened to reciprocity?" John asked.

My phone let both of us know that a text message had just arrived. Two texts. Three texts. I ignored all of them, didn’t even check to see who they were from. I knew who they were from.

"Another rule change," I said. "After that, reciprocity only applied to guys Jack ‘cared about.’ Which makes for a decent segue back to what we were really talking about…this hypothetical three-way with Jack. As I was saying, or was about to say…even if Jack was being serious about a three-way, then either he hasn’t thought it through or he has seriously changed his rules - who knows, maybe he has."

"Sounds like to me Jack changes the rules whenever it suits him," John said.

"Maybe, some rules, anyway. Some rules have never changed…But under the rules I know—"

"Can I interrupt to ask when the last time you and Jack ever talked about - I mean expressly, not assumptions, old habits, whatever - a new rule change, or what exactly the existing rules were?" John asked.

"You just did," I laughed, "but the circumstances are also part of that much bigger story for another time. But just when? It would’ve been later that same year…when he ‘made’ me fuck this girl, Lacy…so we were 17, almost 18…that’s the last time I ever offered, begged, whatever, to suck his dick…"

[[You may think I tossed out that bit about being ‘forced’ to fuck Lacy gratuitously, as a teaser, perhaps, but that would not be accurate. I did it to amend the question I was answering ’ when was the last time you and Jack talked about his no-blow rule?’ If hadn’t done that I would’ve had to either lie to John or tell him, ‘why, just this morning, when Jack explained to me why he couldn’t honor my request to fuck me in the ass this coming week…’ ]]

"Made you fuck Lacy? For another day, I assume?" John asked. I nodded. "So not long before you turned 18 then? That’s nearly four years ago, Joe."

"I take your point," I said, "but all I can say is that under the rules I KNOW, I just can’t see that a three-way among us would be much more than Jack watching you fuck me, and one of us giving him a hand job…" I paused to think a few seconds to consider carefully before I plowed ahead, "or, let’s say that I’m wrong and that Jack would fuck me - I really don’t know if he would or wouldn’t now - he damn sure wouldn’t let either of us fuck him. You can bet that rule hasn’t changed. But let’s say Jack will, would, fuck me and I’d let him…would you really be cool with watching Jack fuck me in the ass?"

"As hot as I think that would be, I wouldn’t be watching," John said as he winked at me, "I’d be sucking your sweet fat cock while he pummeled your ass."

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16A:  I AM JACK’S DICK…ON EDGE

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to John, "that wasn’t so disturbing…interesting for sure, but when you said ‘disturbing,’ I’ll admit you had me a little concerned, like Jack had totally flipped out or something." 

•••••

I seriously doubted that I had spoken that many words to John before another positive reality of my de facto “surrender” to Jack in his (my?) great game slapped me in the face. I felt relieved the moment I made my unprecedented decision not to join issue with him.  I didn’t have to figure out all, or any, of Jack’s clever little clues, I didn’t have to construct a defensive firewall or design a superlative counter-stroke…and I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by whatever Jack’s hidden game was - I knew the rules of “the game” way better than I knew Jack’s rules of sexual (mis)conduct. We did not EVER intentionally hurt one another, so I was free to stop play at any point without fear of any serious consequence…other than “losing” the game. 

As soon as the burden of trying to defend against or win the game was gone, I saw a new possibility open before me - not another stratagem to launch, more like just keeping my options open. It was this: Since I theoretically no longer cared (much) whether Jack ever fucked me in the ass, let alone before John did, I could spend my two or three days (and nights) before John came to visit pursuing something I really did care about instead of (passively) encouraging Jack’s cock to override his brain and fuck me, and that was sucking Jack’s dick before the ticking clock ran out on all of Jack’s homosexual practices, if not tendencies. To be sure, I had a far better shot of luring Jack’s cock up my ass than I did of getting it into my mouth, but I now had the freedom to concentrate on my own interests (after school was done and before John’s visit). And my real interest was in sucking my twin’s cock. All the better, I recognized, if Jack believed “all” I wanted was a standard ass-fucking, and wasn’t still hung up on blowing him. 

••••••

"Oh, no, it all - or mostly - seemed straight-up, legit, to me…you might have noticed a couple of …mood swings…or whatever…that kind of disturbed me at the time—" John replied. 

"Like when he’s being all warm and friendly one minute…and the next he’s threatening to bend you over and fuck you in the ass?" I interjected. I swear I think John blushed. 

"Exactly," he said, "but then I got that he was just making a point, being extreme to shock me, you know, like illustrating that you can never stop trusting, or remembering to trust." 

"Right," I said, nodding and thinking, ‘Wrong, oh you are so wrong.’  Then I remembered that I had already ‘surrendered’ and didn’t have to worry about what Jack might really be up to. I did understand that one of the things Jack had been telling me was that he wouldn’t mind fucking John - but I had no concern, even if Jack had meant it as more than just a nod to my good fortune, that he would ever act on his desire - fucking one another’s significant other was taboo - even good friends were off limits.

"Look," I said, "we could go through that conversation line by line, but it’s getting late and I’ve got almost an entire paper to write tomorrow, so I’ll just cut to the chase…Do you think Jack is right that we should just fuck right now?" "No," John said, "not right now but…before we leave school, anyway. I know we agreed to wait until January, Joe, but I think Jack is right - the way you talk about fucking now IS different now..like you are ready, so waiting two or three more weeks serves what purpose, really?

"And, you know, I don’t have any more experience with this than you do, and maybe it’s all a crock…but what he said about building trust and all…it sounded, well…you know…like a pretty fucking good idea to me."

As I said last time, I did know all about the knob-in-the-hole, as Jack and I had called it when we were 17. I knew I loved the idea of feeling John’s big mushroom-shaped dick head just inside me, before the rest of his cock followed, and then followed repetitively. I’ll admit that reading Jack’s familiar step-by-step instructions for the initial penetration of a tight ass by a very big cock had made me hard, whether in recollection of Jack’s knob in my hole or in anticipation of John’s, or both, I can’t really say. I had understood, of course, that I’d be playing the knob-in-the-hole game again PDQ just as soon as I had recognized what Jack had advertised as the “secret of his success.” Which was ironic, since my refusal to let Jack fuck me in the ass back then was the only sexual “failure” of his that I could recall off the top of my head. Probably there were others, but who brags about their failures?

I considered telling John then that Jack and I had both played knob-in-the-hole with each other - of course we had each taken a turn in penetrating the other because Jack demanded strict reciprocity during every sexual activity in which he and I engaged. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing at all, but sometimes a little more flexibility is a better thing. The reason Jack would never let me blow him wasn’t that he objected to blow jobs per se (he had enjoyed plenty of BJs from girls) or that he was trying to deprive me of what I wanted. But because he flatly refused to entertain the notion of having a cock in HIS mouth (not even my own), his rule of reciprocity required him to keep his dick out of MY mouth.  In fact when I had read in his texts Jack’s ‘tragic’  anecdote about ‘a friend of his’ who suffered from that  same “problem,” I accepted that tip of the hat as the poignant reminder he intended that it had also hurt Jack to deny me what I wanted most from him.

Anyway, as I was saying, I knew that Jack was also dead-on when he told John that holding your knob just inside another dude’s tight virgin ass while the sphincter muscles contracted around it was a superb sensation, because I had experienced that same superb sensation myself  when I had inserted the head of my cock into Jack’s tight hole and held it there for several minutes. Jack did not beg me to fuck him, and of course I didn’t (and wouldn’t have even if he had asked for it), but he didn’t mind having at least part of a cock in his ass, either. I had gone first, Jack second - the contrast in our reactions served as a fairly graphic demonstration of the fact that I wanted to be fucked in the ass more than Jack did.

Even though I wanted John’s knob in my hole, I didn’t want to jump at his near-invitation to try this experiment, not yet. Since I was no longer playing Jack’s game, and wasn’t playing much of any game beyond going with the flow and trying to preserve as many options as possible, I didn’t need much of a game plan, but to preserve my options I did need to string things out between John and me if I could reasonably do so without my foot-dragging becoming obvious. And while I preferred to wait another week, when exams were done and I could take a deep breath, both Jack and  John were right about my head being  in the right place about my impending ass- fucking.  Of course, I also knew that our jumping right into the knob-in-the-hole game was exactly what Jack wanted - and expected - us to do, so I was reflexively resistant to allowing Jack that “victory” - old habits die hard.  

Knowing Jack as I did, with his not unreasonable assurance that few people had his discipline (when he chose to apply it), together with the fact that he had witnessed my own lack of self control when a certain pressure had been applied in a certain manner to a certain part of my anatomy, he was likely lying back at that very moment, edging to perfection his throbbing cock in the near-certainty that John was even then fucking my brains out. He would be smugly enjoying his self-congratulatory edging session for some time to come - that fucker could edge for hours. 

Sometimes we’d be edging together and I’d finally have to let my cock explode, and Jack would just look at me, cluck condescendingly, and keep tickling the head of his cock or asshole or whatever. My cock would go limp, get hard again a few minutes later, and I’d edge myself again to the point of “no mas,” blowing my second load before Jack would finally give in to a magnificent cum-gusher. It’s hard to say who really “won” a session like that - after all I’d have two orgasms to his one. While that looked a lot like “win/win” to me,  Jack always said there could be only one “winner,” and he clearly believed it was him. I  knew he was jacking and edging right then, that or fucking some Newcomb princess, but I figured he’d prefer to be edging by himself, the better to savor the masterful game he had played (resulting, in his mind (I was sure),  in my near-immediate buttfucking) and his moment of all-but-declared victory.  Although I had ‘surrendered,’ I had no intention of letting Jack know that yet, and when I did let him know he had “won” it would be in such a way that he couldn’t be if I  I had gotten fucked in the ass yet or not. All the better, I figured, for keeping my options open, and to keep Jack’s cock doing his thinking for him.

"John,  we’re not waiting until January," I said, grinning at his big grin," but I do think what Jack said about building absolute trust couldn’t be more true.  I’m more than intrigued…I don’t mind saying that I fucking love the idea of having just the head of your cock inside me…that just sounds so fucking…hot …and…knowing that the rest of your HUGE fucking dick will NOT be following right away is…I dunno…reassuring, comforting, somehow." John had also visibly brightened at my agreement to play knob-in-the-hole before the sure- enough fucking got started. But before he could start stripping out of his clothes, I added, "Let’s come back to the ‘trust test’ in a minute, OK? I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but I had part of an idea about how to improve it when I was reading Jack’s texts." 

Getting up, I asked, “Beer?” as the vague outline of something resembling a plan began to take shape in my mind. Befitting a man who had already ‘surrendered’ and thus needed no plan, this plan was pretty bare bones, hardly what I called a plan at all.

"Anything else jump out at you from your chat with Jack?" I asked John as I got a couple of more beers out of the fridge. There were a couple of things I wanted to raise, like inviting John to visit  over the holidays and the logistics/timing of our coming tryst, but before I did I wanted to see what else had moved John’s needle. 

The “trust game” obviously had. So had tearing up my January timetable, but that had been a given.

16A: I AM JACK’S DICK…ON EDGE

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to John, "that wasn’t so disturbing…interesting for sure, but when you said ‘disturbing,’ I’ll admit you had me a little concerned, like Jack had totally flipped out or something."

•••••

I seriously doubted that I had spoken that many words to John before another positive reality of my de facto “surrender” to Jack in his (my?) great game slapped me in the face. I felt relieved the moment I made my unprecedented decision not to join issue with him. I didn’t have to figure out all, or any, of Jack’s clever little clues, I didn’t have to construct a defensive firewall or design a superlative counter-stroke…and I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by whatever Jack’s hidden game was - I knew the rules of “the game” way better than I knew Jack’s rules of sexual (mis)conduct. We did not EVER intentionally hurt one another, so I was free to stop play at any point without fear of any serious consequence…other than “losing” the game.

As soon as the burden of trying to defend against or win the game was gone, I saw a new possibility open before me - not another stratagem to launch, more like just keeping my options open. It was this: Since I theoretically no longer cared (much) whether Jack ever fucked me in the ass, let alone before John did, I could spend my two or three days (and nights) before John came to visit pursuing something I really did care about instead of (passively) encouraging Jack’s cock to override his brain and fuck me, and that was sucking Jack’s dick before the ticking clock ran out on all of Jack’s homosexual practices, if not tendencies. To be sure, I had a far better shot of luring Jack’s cock up my ass than I did of getting it into my mouth, but I now had the freedom to concentrate on my own interests (after school was done and before John’s visit). And my real interest was in sucking my twin’s cock. All the better, I recognized, if Jack believed “all” I wanted was a standard ass-fucking, and wasn’t still hung up on blowing him.

••••••

"Oh, no, it all - or mostly - seemed straight-up, legit, to me…you might have noticed a couple of …mood swings…or whatever…that kind of disturbed me at the time—" John replied.

"Like when he’s being all warm and friendly one minute…and the next he’s threatening to bend you over and fuck you in the ass?" I interjected. I swear I think John blushed.

"Exactly," he said, "but then I got that he was just making a point, being extreme to shock me, you know, like illustrating that you can never stop trusting, or remembering to trust."

"Right," I said, nodding and thinking, ‘Wrong, oh you are so wrong.’ Then I remembered that I had already ‘surrendered’ and didn’t have to worry about what Jack might really be up to. I did understand that one of the things Jack had been telling me was that he wouldn’t mind fucking John - but I had no concern, even if Jack had meant it as more than just a nod to my good fortune, that he would ever act on his desire - fucking one another’s significant other was taboo - even good friends were off limits.

"Look," I said, "we could go through that conversation line by line, but it’s getting late and I’ve got almost an entire paper to write tomorrow, so I’ll just cut to the chase…Do you think Jack is right that we should just fuck right now?" "No," John said, "not right now but…before we leave school, anyway. I know we agreed to wait until January, Joe, but I think Jack is right - the way you talk about fucking now IS different now..like you are ready, so waiting two or three more weeks serves what purpose, really?

"And, you know, I don’t have any more experience with this than you do, and maybe it’s all a crock…but what he said about building trust and all…it sounded, well…you know…like a pretty fucking good idea to me."

As I said last time, I did know all about the knob-in-the-hole, as Jack and I had called it when we were 17. I knew I loved the idea of feeling John’s big mushroom-shaped dick head just inside me, before the rest of his cock followed, and then followed repetitively. I’ll admit that reading Jack’s familiar step-by-step instructions for the initial penetration of a tight ass by a very big cock had made me hard, whether in recollection of Jack’s knob in my hole or in anticipation of John’s, or both, I can’t really say. I had understood, of course, that I’d be playing the knob-in-the-hole game again PDQ just as soon as I had recognized what Jack had advertised as the “secret of his success.” Which was ironic, since my refusal to let Jack fuck me in the ass back then was the only sexual “failure” of his that I could recall off the top of my head. Probably there were others, but who brags about their failures?

I considered telling John then that Jack and I had both played knob-in-the-hole with each other - of course we had each taken a turn in penetrating the other because Jack demanded strict reciprocity during every sexual activity in which he and I engaged. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing at all, but sometimes a little more flexibility is a better thing. The reason Jack would never let me blow him wasn’t that he objected to blow jobs per se (he had enjoyed plenty of BJs from girls) or that he was trying to deprive me of what I wanted. But because he flatly refused to entertain the notion of having a cock in HIS mouth (not even my own), his rule of reciprocity required him to keep his dick out of MY mouth. In fact when I had read in his texts Jack’s ‘tragic’ anecdote about ‘a friend of his’ who suffered from that same “problem,” I accepted that tip of the hat as the poignant reminder he intended that it had also hurt Jack to deny me what I wanted most from him.

Anyway, as I was saying, I knew that Jack was also dead-on when he told John that holding your knob just inside another dude’s tight virgin ass while the sphincter muscles contracted around it was a superb sensation, because I had experienced that same superb sensation myself when I had inserted the head of my cock into Jack’s tight hole and held it there for several minutes. Jack did not beg me to fuck him, and of course I didn’t (and wouldn’t have even if he had asked for it), but he didn’t mind having at least part of a cock in his ass, either. I had gone first, Jack second - the contrast in our reactions served as a fairly graphic demonstration of the fact that I wanted to be fucked in the ass more than Jack did.

Even though I wanted John’s knob in my hole, I didn’t want to jump at his near-invitation to try this experiment, not yet. Since I was no longer playing Jack’s game, and wasn’t playing much of any game beyond going with the flow and trying to preserve as many options as possible, I didn’t need much of a game plan, but to preserve my options I did need to string things out between John and me if I could reasonably do so without my foot-dragging becoming obvious. And while I preferred to wait another week, when exams were done and I could take a deep breath, both Jack and John were right about my head being in the right place about my impending ass- fucking. Of course, I also knew that our jumping right into the knob-in-the-hole game was exactly what Jack wanted - and expected - us to do, so I was reflexively resistant to allowing Jack that “victory” - old habits die hard.

Knowing Jack as I did, with his not unreasonable assurance that few people had his discipline (when he chose to apply it), together with the fact that he had witnessed my own lack of self control when a certain pressure had been applied in a certain manner to a certain part of my anatomy, he was likely lying back at that very moment, edging to perfection his throbbing cock in the near-certainty that John was even then fucking my brains out. He would be smugly enjoying his self-congratulatory edging session for some time to come - that fucker could edge for hours.

Sometimes we’d be edging together and I’d finally have to let my cock explode, and Jack would just look at me, cluck condescendingly, and keep tickling the head of his cock or asshole or whatever. My cock would go limp, get hard again a few minutes later, and I’d edge myself again to the point of “no mas,” blowing my second load before Jack would finally give in to a magnificent cum-gusher. It’s hard to say who really “won” a session like that - after all I’d have two orgasms to his one. While that looked a lot like “win/win” to me, Jack always said there could be only one “winner,” and he clearly believed it was him. I knew he was jacking and edging right then, that or fucking some Newcomb princess, but I figured he’d prefer to be edging by himself, the better to savor the masterful game he had played (resulting, in his mind (I was sure), in my near-immediate buttfucking) and his moment of all-but-declared victory. Although I had ‘surrendered,’ I had no intention of letting Jack know that yet, and when I did let him know he had “won” it would be in such a way that he couldn’t be if I I had gotten fucked in the ass yet or not. All the better, I figured, for keeping my options open, and to keep Jack’s cock doing his thinking for him.

"John, we’re not waiting until January," I said, grinning at his big grin," but I do think what Jack said about building absolute trust couldn’t be more true. I’m more than intrigued…I don’t mind saying that I fucking love the idea of having just the head of your cock inside me…that just sounds so fucking…hot …and…knowing that the rest of your HUGE fucking dick will NOT be following right away is…I dunno…reassuring, comforting, somehow." John had also visibly brightened at my agreement to play knob-in-the-hole before the sure- enough fucking got started. But before he could start stripping out of his clothes, I added, "Let’s come back to the ‘trust test’ in a minute, OK? I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but I had part of an idea about how to improve it when I was reading Jack’s texts."

Getting up, I asked, “Beer?” as the vague outline of something resembling a plan began to take shape in my mind. Befitting a man who had already ‘surrendered’ and thus needed no plan, this plan was pretty bare bones, hardly what I called a plan at all.

"Anything else jump out at you from your chat with Jack?" I asked John as I got a couple of more beers out of the fridge. There were a couple of things I wanted to raise, like inviting John to visit over the holidays and the logistics/timing of our coming tryst, but before I did I wanted to see what else had moved John’s needle.

The “trust game” obviously had. So had tearing up my January timetable, but that had been a given.

Breaking in the roommate.

Breaking in the roommate.

sublimecock:

15B:  I AM JACK’S DICK…THINKING

Jack knew on an intellectual level that it was a very bad idea to spend the Christmas holidays fucking me in the ass after we had mostly managed to stay within some fairly elastic and often shifting boundaries, boundaries that had nevertheless always kept our dicks out of any kind of hole in each others’ bodies (except for a couple of heady hours when we were 17 and Jack had decided that he did want to at least try to fuck me after all). 

To the extent I had any cards to play in response to Jack’s brilliant moves, the ace up my sleeve was my inside knowledge that Jack’s brain and cock rarely communicated with each other, except to occasionally shout ‘No, fuck YOU!’ back and forth along the neural network that led to and from Jack’s glans. Jack’s brain did not want Jack any more emotionally entangled than he already was with the apparently unstable individual who happened to share precisely 100% of Jack’s DNA. Jack’s cock thought Joe’s ass looked like it needed fucking…and that it appeared to be a 100% fucking-A good tight fit. Jack’s cock thought Joe’s ass might even be a good place to live, and not just visit. ‘No, fuck YOU!’ Jack’s cock shouted at Jack’s brain. But even Jack’s brain wasn’t always an asshole, and sometimes it would say, ‘Well, maybe, I’m not really sure…probably just one or two brief visits wouldn’t hurt anything…’  Jack’s cock thought, ‘Fuck that, we’re moving in,” but since Jack’s cock was even smarter than Jack’s brain, Jack’s cock just smiled and didn’t say another word.

*****

Just as I had begun to think I might have a decent chance that the wall built by Jack’s rational self would crumble, caving in to his lusty sensual self, which would result in Jack fucking me in the ass but good at least once or twice over the holidays, which was exactly what I wanted and had planned, that sneaky, devious bastard of a twin (we were carbon copies of one another, after all) had intervened with my boyfriend and very probably dashed to smithereens my completely artificial and wholly unjustifiable January timetable for John’s cock to make its belated entry into my rectum. Immediately after that intervention, I seriously wondered if I could even keep John at bay until I retreated the next morning to the stacks to write my seminar paper.

In all candor, I have to admit that I wanted to win “the game” Jack and I were playing and bend Jack to my will mostly because he had denied me for years what I had most wanted sexually from him, an oral relationship: I wanted to suck Jack’s cock more than I wanted to breathe oxygen. Jack had probably known or at least intuited (correctly) that if he had ever let me get that large dick-shaped, flesh-colored pacifier in my mouth, he would have had a very hard time in prying it out again. At the bottom of it all, we both just wanted to win the fucking game because games were invented for winning, not losing, and we both played for keeps. My default response to Jack’s masterful fucking game, if not overridden, would be to join battle by launching an intricate and fiendishly-designed counter-offensive. That’s how we always played the game.

As I had finished reading the remarkable dialogue between Jack and John and prepared to talk to John about it, I had initially thought that my first - and difficult - task was to identify all of the actual stratagems that Jack had launched - a reasonable step if one intended to erect defenses and prepare a counterattack. Jack’s real game might be no more than making what appeared on its face to be a long, sometimes crude, sometimes funny, often endearing and just as often infuriating dialogue whose stated objective was to provide a few “helpful hints” to a virgin top about how to first go about building an unshakable trust between himself and his virgin bottom boyfriend (me) and then how to exploit that trust to get me well and truly fucked. I calculated that John was already primed by Jack’s “hot as fuck chatter” to start playing hide the knob in the hole -  likely just as soon as he and I got through talking about all the “great advice” Jack had helpfully provided to John. Jack’s advice, while cleverly camouflaged, was in fact designed solely to break down my defenses and have me literally begging John to fuck my ass without mercy.  And Jack had simultaneously coached John to do exactly that, despite any promises he might have to make to the contrary. 

Jack would have my lights fucked out well before midnight if I weren’t very careful. And that was just the visible tip of Jack’s iceberg, its most visible and “well meaning” elements. Why, my sweet, considerate brother was only trying to help along the stifled lust of a couple of neophyte lovers. Bless Jack’s heart. And his equally transparent invitation to John to hurry his big swinging dick straight over to Mississippi, just as soon as he flew home to Dallas and took care of some family business, so that he could pin me to my own spooge-soaked mattress in my brother’s and my own cum-splattered love nest - just in case I had somehow managed to avoid the buttfucking in St. Louis that I so richly deserved - was elegant in both its simplicity and good down-home manners!  (Indeed, I was embarrassed to death that I had not thought to invite John myself). 

The true elegance of Jack’s manipulative scheme was that it was not only transparent, but it also left me helpless to stop it  - so I would lose the game with full awareness of what was going to happen. After all, what was I going to do, explain to John that the only reason Jack was trying to get my boyfriend’s big cock balls deep in my ass in such a hurry was that I had been trying to manipulate my twin brother into fucking me in the ass before I yielded it to John? Nor could I very well revoke Jack’s invitation for John to visit us the next weekend on the grounds that I had already planned to spend those days (and nights) with my brother’s cock slamming into and out of my ass. 

While I suspected from Jack’s usage of our secret vocabulary throughout his chat with John that he might be running some inscrutable double or even triple game, mostly Jack just wanted me to see how fucking clever he was and that my own game was all but up. He was saying to me, in effect, “Sorry, bro, but I won’t be fucking you in your already-fucked asshole this Christmas, after all.” I was in awe, as a practitioner of the manipulative arts myself, at the sheer beauty of Jack’s craft. And unless I had totally missed my guess he had made a major mid-conversation course correction - really a whole new and far better scam than the original one, seemingly thrown together on the fly. I gave him extra credit for that. 

All of my anxiety lay in knowing that (1) given my remaining exams and paper to write, and the academic hole I had dug for myself by lip-locking John’s cock for the last two+ months, I simply did not have the time or energy to unravel, let alone thwart, Jack’s whole plan, and (2) I probably wasn’t going to get my way anyway, and I fucking hated to lose to Jack.  And before I could even begin to untangle Jack’s whole web, I had to give John some attention right that fucking minute before he started getting out the condoms and lube. 

And then, just as I turned to hand John’s phone back to him, I had one of those near-perfect moments of startling clarity that we so often need and so seldom receive. ‘So what if I “lose”?’ I thought. ‘I can’t “lose” if I don’t play.’ Because I knew in that moment that the “consolation” prize I had been so desperately trying to avoid - a healthier and hopefully lasting relationship with John, who I had grown to love and not just like a lot - was really what I wanted. I had just become so fucking blinded by playing the game with Jack that I had lost sight of that fact. 

And I remembered that I had started this game myself with a late-night text to Jack, half-jokingly imploring him to break my ass in before John split it in two. I had known Jack and I were done, or all but done, or would be irrevocably done by the spring, anyway, and I had believed there was no fucking way Jack would agree to fuck me in my ass. When he, half-drunk and with his cock in some coed’s mouth, had instantly agreed - thinking I was running some new misdirection operation - I was, I admit, elated. And when he tried to rescind the next morning, I wouldn’t hear of it. That’s how this game had really started.  As much as I had wanted to “win” the game by “making” Jack fill my ass up with his big beautiful cultural taboo of a cock, thankfully some other part of me recognized that I couldn’t really lose this particular game - unless  (1) I played it too hard (and thereby hurt John); or (2) I allowed myself to believe I had  somehow “lost.” 

And then I had an even greater revelation:  If I stopped playing the game and just played the hand that I was now holding, if I was perfectly amenable to either outcome - John fucking me this week or at the latest next weekend in Mississippi, and being the first one to fuck me in the ass, OR  John fucking me in the ass next weekend in Mississippi, allowing for the slight possibility of, but not insisting on, Jack fucking me in the ass first during the brief window of opportunity before John arrived on our doorstep, I might just get to eat my cake and have it, too. 

Given Jack’s momentum in the master game he was still playing and that I had just resolved to exit - and the critical fact that Jack’s cock would do all of his thinking if I could just quit provoking his brain - I recognized that by ‘surrendering,’ I had just created a win/win situation for myself. Moreover, the added benefit of such a minimalist approach was that I wouldn’t have to lie to John quite so much.

And Jack’s cock really DID want to fuck me.

**************

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to John, "that wasn’t so disturbing…interesting for sure, but when you said ‘disturbing,’ I’ll admit you had me a little concerned, like Jack had totally flipped out or something."

sublimecock:

15B: I AM JACK’S DICK…THINKING

Jack knew on an intellectual level that it was a very bad idea to spend the Christmas holidays fucking me in the ass after we had mostly managed to stay within some fairly elastic and often shifting boundaries, boundaries that had nevertheless always kept our dicks out of any kind of hole in each others’ bodies (except for a couple of heady hours when we were 17 and Jack had decided that he did want to at least try to fuck me after all).

To the extent I had any cards to play in response to Jack’s brilliant moves, the ace up my sleeve was my inside knowledge that Jack’s brain and cock rarely communicated with each other, except to occasionally shout ‘No, fuck YOU!’ back and forth along the neural network that led to and from Jack’s glans. Jack’s brain did not want Jack any more emotionally entangled than he already was with the apparently unstable individual who happened to share precisely 100% of Jack’s DNA. Jack’s cock thought Joe’s ass looked like it needed fucking…and that it appeared to be a 100% fucking-A good tight fit. Jack’s cock thought Joe’s ass might even be a good place to live, and not just visit. ‘No, fuck YOU!’ Jack’s cock shouted at Jack’s brain. But even Jack’s brain wasn’t always an asshole, and sometimes it would say, ‘Well, maybe, I’m not really sure…probably just one or two brief visits wouldn’t hurt anything…’ Jack’s cock thought, ‘Fuck that, we’re moving in,” but since Jack’s cock was even smarter than Jack’s brain, Jack’s cock just smiled and didn’t say another word.

*****

Just as I had begun to think I might have a decent chance that the wall built by Jack’s rational self would crumble, caving in to his lusty sensual self, which would result in Jack fucking me in the ass but good at least once or twice over the holidays, which was exactly what I wanted and had planned, that sneaky, devious bastard of a twin (we were carbon copies of one another, after all) had intervened with my boyfriend and very probably dashed to smithereens my completely artificial and wholly unjustifiable January timetable for John’s cock to make its belated entry into my rectum. Immediately after that intervention, I seriously wondered if I could even keep John at bay until I retreated the next morning to the stacks to write my seminar paper.

In all candor, I have to admit that I wanted to win “the game” Jack and I were playing and bend Jack to my will mostly because he had denied me for years what I had most wanted sexually from him, an oral relationship: I wanted to suck Jack’s cock more than I wanted to breathe oxygen. Jack had probably known or at least intuited (correctly) that if he had ever let me get that large dick-shaped, flesh-colored pacifier in my mouth, he would have had a very hard time in prying it out again. At the bottom of it all, we both just wanted to win the fucking game because games were invented for winning, not losing, and we both played for keeps. My default response to Jack’s masterful fucking game, if not overridden, would be to join battle by launching an intricate and fiendishly-designed counter-offensive. That’s how we always played the game.

As I had finished reading the remarkable dialogue between Jack and John and prepared to talk to John about it, I had initially thought that my first - and difficult - task was to identify all of the actual stratagems that Jack had launched - a reasonable step if one intended to erect defenses and prepare a counterattack. Jack’s real game might be no more than making what appeared on its face to be a long, sometimes crude, sometimes funny, often endearing and just as often infuriating dialogue whose stated objective was to provide a few “helpful hints” to a virgin top about how to first go about building an unshakable trust between himself and his virgin bottom boyfriend (me) and then how to exploit that trust to get me well and truly fucked. I calculated that John was already primed by Jack’s “hot as fuck chatter” to start playing hide the knob in the hole - likely just as soon as he and I got through talking about all the “great advice” Jack had helpfully provided to John. Jack’s advice, while cleverly camouflaged, was in fact designed solely to break down my defenses and have me literally begging John to fuck my ass without mercy. And Jack had simultaneously coached John to do exactly that, despite any promises he might have to make to the contrary.

Jack would have my lights fucked out well before midnight if I weren’t very careful. And that was just the visible tip of Jack’s iceberg, its most visible and “well meaning” elements. Why, my sweet, considerate brother was only trying to help along the stifled lust of a couple of neophyte lovers. Bless Jack’s heart. And his equally transparent invitation to John to hurry his big swinging dick straight over to Mississippi, just as soon as he flew home to Dallas and took care of some family business, so that he could pin me to my own spooge-soaked mattress in my brother’s and my own cum-splattered love nest - just in case I had somehow managed to avoid the buttfucking in St. Louis that I so richly deserved - was elegant in both its simplicity and good down-home manners! (Indeed, I was embarrassed to death that I had not thought to invite John myself).

The true elegance of Jack’s manipulative scheme was that it was not only transparent, but it also left me helpless to stop it - so I would lose the game with full awareness of what was going to happen. After all, what was I going to do, explain to John that the only reason Jack was trying to get my boyfriend’s big cock balls deep in my ass in such a hurry was that I had been trying to manipulate my twin brother into fucking me in the ass before I yielded it to John? Nor could I very well revoke Jack’s invitation for John to visit us the next weekend on the grounds that I had already planned to spend those days (and nights) with my brother’s cock slamming into and out of my ass.

While I suspected from Jack’s usage of our secret vocabulary throughout his chat with John that he might be running some inscrutable double or even triple game, mostly Jack just wanted me to see how fucking clever he was and that my own game was all but up. He was saying to me, in effect, “Sorry, bro, but I won’t be fucking you in your already-fucked asshole this Christmas, after all.” I was in awe, as a practitioner of the manipulative arts myself, at the sheer beauty of Jack’s craft. And unless I had totally missed my guess he had made a major mid-conversation course correction - really a whole new and far better scam than the original one, seemingly thrown together on the fly. I gave him extra credit for that.

All of my anxiety lay in knowing that (1) given my remaining exams and paper to write, and the academic hole I had dug for myself by lip-locking John’s cock for the last two+ months, I simply did not have the time or energy to unravel, let alone thwart, Jack’s whole plan, and (2) I probably wasn’t going to get my way anyway, and I fucking hated to lose to Jack. And before I could even begin to untangle Jack’s whole web, I had to give John some attention right that fucking minute before he started getting out the condoms and lube.

And then, just as I turned to hand John’s phone back to him, I had one of those near-perfect moments of startling clarity that we so often need and so seldom receive. ‘So what if I “lose”?’ I thought. ‘I can’t “lose” if I don’t play.’ Because I knew in that moment that the “consolation” prize I had been so desperately trying to avoid - a healthier and hopefully lasting relationship with John, who I had grown to love and not just like a lot - was really what I wanted. I had just become so fucking blinded by playing the game with Jack that I had lost sight of that fact.

And I remembered that I had started this game myself with a late-night text to Jack, half-jokingly imploring him to break my ass in before John split it in two. I had known Jack and I were done, or all but done, or would be irrevocably done by the spring, anyway, and I had believed there was no fucking way Jack would agree to fuck me in my ass. When he, half-drunk and with his cock in some coed’s mouth, had instantly agreed - thinking I was running some new misdirection operation - I was, I admit, elated. And when he tried to rescind the next morning, I wouldn’t hear of it. That’s how this game had really started. As much as I had wanted to “win” the game by “making” Jack fill my ass up with his big beautiful cultural taboo of a cock, thankfully some other part of me recognized that I couldn’t really lose this particular game - unless (1) I played it too hard (and thereby hurt John); or (2) I allowed myself to believe I had somehow “lost.”

And then I had an even greater revelation: If I stopped playing the game and just played the hand that I was now holding, if I was perfectly amenable to either outcome - John fucking me this week or at the latest next weekend in Mississippi, and being the first one to fuck me in the ass, OR John fucking me in the ass next weekend in Mississippi, allowing for the slight possibility of, but not insisting on, Jack fucking me in the ass first during the brief window of opportunity before John arrived on our doorstep, I might just get to eat my cake and have it, too.

Given Jack’s momentum in the master game he was still playing and that I had just resolved to exit - and the critical fact that Jack’s cock would do all of his thinking if I could just quit provoking his brain - I recognized that by ‘surrendering,’ I had just created a win/win situation for myself. Moreover, the added benefit of such a minimalist approach was that I wouldn’t have to lie to John quite so much.

And Jack’s cock really DID want to fuck me.

**************

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to John, "that wasn’t so disturbing…interesting for sure, but when you said ‘disturbing,’ I’ll admit you had me a little concerned, like Jack had totally flipped out or something."

Checking out the roommate.

Checking out the roommate.

Afternoon delight.

9.17.14

Afternoon delight.

9.17.14
sexy-lads:

Love couple in Paris

sexy-lads:

Love couple in Paris

loopez:

Greatest Dicks

My top ten most popular photographs here on tumblr:

1.  Window Dressing

2.  Ambrosia

3.  Natural Wood

4.  Exhibition

5.  Veinglorious

6.  Supplication

7.  Frozen Rope

8.  Leverage

9.  Divining Rod

10. Radiator

Thanks to everyone for all the likes and re-blogs!

Working stiffs/282.

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Working stiffs/281.

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Working stiffs/280.