Two of Three

So it's late last night, and I'm a little tired because earlier that evening my friend with occasional privileges Bob had come by, and because he's decided that his and his boyfriend's (he also has a wife, but she's not really relevant, except as background) relationship is once again open, so we can have sex and hang out in bed instead of going out for dinner and then sitting in his car in my driveway after dinner while he wrestles with his conscience, and we'd had amazing sex/foreplay for a couple of hours before I'd finally had him wrap me up (because one of the ways he's beaten down his conscience is by insisting that we fuck safe) and started fucking him, and I was so worked up when I finally penetrated that I came in about three minutes, which may very well be a personal record, and was in any case a welcome change from the usual half hour of plowing before I either shoot or pretend to shoot or pull out and handle myself until I shoot, and it was all so great that I really should have just rolled over and gone to sleep, but I'd had to get dressed and walk and feed the dog, and then some hot marine started messaging me, so when the "No Caller ID" call came in, I was still awake and decided to answer it because I figured it probably wasn't Alex -- the newb who has promised and then failed to show up so many times (think Lucy with the football here) that now I just say, "Sure, come over" and then either invite someone else or go to sleep and wait for the inevitable apology -- but the unnamed Latino guy who'd come by a couple of weeks ago and then ran out the door after I kissed him a couple of times because "I've never done this before" and "I'm just not comfortable," and, in fact, that's who it turns out to be, and he's trying to schedule a time for us to meet at a motel, and I'm resistant because I have a perfectly good home and bedroom to meet in, but eventually I tell him that -- sure, what the hell -- he can call me on Friday night late if he really wants me to meet him some place, and then I figure I'll just go to sleep, but then he calls me fifteen minutes later and says that he wants to stop by on his way home, and by now it's already after midnight, and he's coming all the way from downtown, but I never was good at saying no, so sure, come on over, and I take the opportunity to fold some clean laundry and sort some dirty laundry and start a load of that dirty laundry and wash my cock again, and before too long, he's calling to say that he's almost there, and then he's here, and I'm kissing him again because that's what I do, and after a minute of kissing, I take him upstairs and toss him on the bed and start kissing his lips and his neck and his nipples and he's begging me to let him at my cock, but I'm going to take a little time with that and then -- and all I'm doing is kissing his neck and fingering his nipple -- he starts to moan loudly and shake and tell me that he's coming, and after he stops shaking, I reach down into his underwear, and sure enough, he's blown a load just from making out, and then he's off to the bathroom, and I'm lying there, still fully clothed and feeling like a total stud because I made this dude cum just by making out with him, and then he's back in my room and he's putting his hoodie back on and he's telling me that "I just can't do this."

And I'm all, "Dude, you just did."

A few minutes later guy three (the hot marine) calls me, and ten minutes after that he walks through my door, and we spend most of the next forty-five minutes with him riding my cock while I tweak his nipples before I finally throw him on his back and fuck him deep and hard.  After that there's another forty-five minutes of me kissing him and fingering his nips while he jerks himself off.  When he leaves, both the sheet and the mattress pad are soaked through with his sweat.  Fortunately, I always have clean spares handy for just such occasions.