Show-Offs

Tyler Patrick stood just over six feet and had short brown hair, a goatee and the build of a college heavyweight wrestler. He was obviously and openly handsome, the most conspicuous features of his face being his large brown eyes and wide, smiling mouth with thick lips. His partner, Cole O’Neal, presented an opposing portrait in good looks: he was five eight with thick blond hair that he wore past his ears; startling, steel-blue eyes and a mouth as wide as Tyler’s but more comical than sensuous—although its sensuous possibilities were ample enough. His features were offset by a frankly large nose that curved down from the edge of his forehead and drew to a thick point over his mouth. It would be an attractive feature as long as he was young; when he got older it might prove, like his mouth, more comic. He was almost as solidly built as Tyler, and actually better defined, his torso a hairless structure of smooth muscle. I would say that neither of them could have been more than twenty.

I learned their names in the short time it took us to become friendly. We were neighbors of a sort. We shared adjoining rooms at the Tropic Isles motel in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, a place valued more for its convenient distance to the beach than for any other amenities. I had been coming down to Myrtle Beach and staying at Tropic Isles for a few years by then. Alone but not always alone. The first few times, I vacationed with my lover, who was more of a mountain man than a beachcomber and never cared for the sunny sandiness of the beach. When we broke up, I continued the tradition alone, but I enjoyed the freedom.

My introduction to Tyler and Cole came wordlessly. I had seen them go in and out of their room and heard them padding around. They had nodded a curt hello to me, which I returned. Then late the night of their arrival, I was awakened to the sound of a regular knocking against the wall that divided our rooms, and of men’s voices in conflict, or what sounded like conflict. After clearing my head, I realized they were not fighting, but fucking. Their voices took on all the old familiar commands of heated lovemaking—Don’t stop! More, more! Yeah, that way! Oh, baby yes! Fuck me harder!—punctuated by each shouting out the other’s name. That was the end of sleep for me. I spent the rest of the night listening to them cavort through the wall for hours. Oh, youth! At twenty-eight I wasn’t sure if I could keep it up as long as they were. I took advantage of the situation, though, by taking my own cock in hand and stroking it to the rhythm of their rutting. And, hours later, even after I could barely eke out a last, pathetic dribble of cum, they were still going strong.

The next morning we happened to be leaving our rooms at the same time. They were dressed in flowery shirts and shorts and flip-flops, as was I. We smiled awkwardly at each other. Then I went ahead and said what was on all our minds: “After last night, I would think you boys would be too exhausted to leave the room.”

“No, no, it’s all right. I enjoyed it almost as much y’all did.” They eyed each other again with guilty grins. “In fact I’m surprised I can leave the room. Y’all put on a hell of a show. Felt like I was right there with you.”

That’s when I found out their names and that they came from the same part of South Carolina as I did, the northwestern upcountry. They were celebrating the end of their first year in college with this beach trip. When they were done telling, they looked at me out of curiosity. It was my turn to spill the beans about myself. I told them I was general manager for a well-known chain bookstore in one of the biggest cities in the state. The boys’ aptitude for academia became clear when they wrinkled their noses at hearing where I worked.

We parted ways after an awkward pause, but I didn’t completely lose sight of them. They parked their towels and drink cooler not too far from me. This proximity gave me the chance to study them without being too obvious. They shed their shirts after a while, and right away I felt a stirring in my crotch at the sight of their young muscles. After a while the hot summer sun and my own lack of sleep conspired to make me drift off into a pleasant reverie…

Tyler and Cole were crouched on their knees on either side of me in the sand, buck naked, feeding their considerable hard, young dicks into my starving mouth. I alternated from one cock to the other, back and forth, licking and sucking wildly, my hands occupied with each set of balls, squeezing them to a point that should have hurt them but, in my fantasy, didn’t. Meanwhile they reached down with one hand each to jerk me off together and to return the same abuse to my balls, and it wasn’t long before the three of us were quivering, electrified flesh, the sperm-spark igniting in our nuts and zapping to the stem of our pricks. The boys groaned first and fired their thick loads onto my face and chest and into my hair. Then I let loose, and my cum spurted like a geyser. They dropped on top of me, and we mixed fluids while kissing and laughing…

“Hey there,” someone said. I awoke from my nap to find the real Tyler and Cole staring down at me. They were completely dressed and looked more concerned than horny. “You best turn over,” Tyler said, “or you’ll be red as a beet. You’ve been lying there a good while now.”

Near suppertime, I was napping again in my room, this time my dreams not plagued by sex, when a knock at the door startled me awake. I wiped as much as the grog as I could from my eyes and opened it. Tyler stood in the doorway, shirtless, like the “after” picture of a muscle-building supplement advertisement. He grinned widely. He should be majoring in business, because he would have made a hell of salesman with that killer smile.

I said nothing but stepped out of his way. He wore flower-colored jams that rested low on his hips and showed lovely cuts sloping from either side of his abdomen, pointing the way to his pubis; a hint of hair peeked out of the top of his pants. The drawstring to the drawers hung loosely. It was all I could do to keep from reaching over and jerking it to reveal Tyler in all his glory. His nipples were pink and thick and needed a good lashing of my tongue. I sat in one of the room’s upholstered chairs near the door and invited Tyler to do the same. But he remained standing, staring down at me with a gleam in his eye that flashed one message: sex. He had come, I just knew it, to make up for the disturbance of the night before. My throat went dry at the possibility; my dick stiffened. It took great restraint not to lick lasciviously.

“And we were wondering if you’d be the one to watch us. I mean, you seem to like us and all, and to get off on the way we look.” A pause hung in the air. Tyler popped it. “So, what do you say, man?” He squeezed my shoulder with one of his strong hands. I didn’t know if it was further invitation or a threat.

But it was, after all, the next best thing to having sex with them, and I had gotten off, again and again, merely listening to them gambol the night before. This little session would have a visual component to it. They would be naked! Before my very eyes! And who knew? Maybe the proceedings would get so wonderfully out of hand that they would invite me to join them and make the whole thing a genuine threesome.

Tyler slipped me his card key. He and Cole would be out for a while. I could go in and station myself in the mirrored closet that held the ironing board and extra blankets and pillows. So that’s what I did, leaving one of the closet doors cracked just enough for good visibility. But it was hot as hell in there, so I took off everything, and waited, naked as the day I was born.

Not long after, Tyler and Cole arrived, closing the motel room door softly behind them. Without a word, they fell into each other’s arms and began groping. They had obviously fired each other up pretty good before returning to their room. They kissed deeply, as though they hadn’t seen each other in days. They clawed each other’s clothes off until they were as nude as I was.

Cole sighed at the sight of his lover’s buff body and demanded: “Show me some guns, man!” Tyler obeyed, lifting up both his arms and flexing, his brawny biceps swelling. Cole licked his lips, then pounded the ’ceps with his fists before squeezing them with both his hands to test how hard they were. They passed. Then Cole bent and licked Tyler’s protuberant tits, flicking his tongue before digging deeply with his lips and teeth. Tyler sighed and closed his eyes. His long, fat cock rose to attention and stood between him and Cole with a slight quiver. Meanwhile, Cole’s hands slid down Tyler’s muscled torso till they met each other at the base of Tyler’s stiff dick. Cole dropped to his knees and took it into his mouth as Tyler moaned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. I could no longer see his big cock, but reveled in the sight of Cole’s broad, bronzed back, his milk-white ass defined by his tan lines, and the contrast between his sun-tinged legs and his sandy-white soles. The boys were putting on a grand show for me, exciting the voyeur within I never knew existed. I had worked myself up to a full erection and was pounding with my right hand while my left toyed with my right nipple.

All of a sudden Tyler swooped Cole off the ground and lifted him into the air as though he weighed nothing. They looked into each other’s faces and laughed. Cole bound his long legs around Tyler’s hips and they joined together in a kiss. The sight of Cole’s cock mashed against Tyler’s chest only increased my ardor. It was as long as Tyler’s but not quite as thick.

Tyler dumped Cole onto the bed, lay down beside him and took Cole’s dick into his mouth, sucking like a professional all the way to the base without once gagging. At the same time, he worked first his left index finger into Cole’s asshole, screwing it around and around before inserting a second finger, and then a third, finger-fucking the hole with mesmerizing vigor. He dropped to his knees, pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his face, making a feast of the asshole, fucking it with his tongue until Cole whipped around on the bed in a frenzy before finally calling out, “Fuck your tongue, dude! I want your dick!” And from my vantage point, oh, how I did, too.

Tyler was happy to oblige. He stood, spreading Cole’s legs, and managed, with no hands, to press his dickhead against his lover’s asshole. With one rigorous shove he was in and pumping, resting Cole’s feet against his chest and fucking with a regular rhythm that grew faster and more intense. This was hammering, not mere screwing, and I couldn’t take my eyes off their bodies, pumping my cock in sync with Tyler’s fuck-strokes. Tyler pounded so hard he pushed Cole a couple of inches up the bed and had to yank him back down. “Fuck this!” Cole cried in a voice shivering with pleasure. “Let’s do it doggy-style!”

They rearranged themselves on the bed so that Cole presented his white butt for Tyler’s edification—and in the process provided me with an even better view. This time, Tyler spread Cole’s cheeks, slipping his dick in slowly before revving up with a force that quickly had Cole yelping like a dog. Tyler sped up. He threw back his head. His lips trembled, and so did I when I saw him pull his dick from Cole’s hole and, crying out his lover’s name, frost his back with spurt after spurt of semen. He shook as the orgasm passed through him, then gripped Cole’s shoulder and turned him over to take Cole’s dick into his hand and jack it. Cole’s face contorted with ecstasy as Tyler pumped him; so, I’m sure, did mine, as I pumped away in the closet, sweaty and shivering with erotic excitement. Cole beat me to the punch. He bucked his hips as he spewed cum everywhere: on the bed, the floor, on Tyler. They collapsed into each other’s arms.

Meanwhile my dickhead tingled. All signals were go from down below to launch. Up, up, up came the jism, and I was holding tight to my dick to keep it from flying right out of my hand. “Oh, you fuckers! You beautiful fuckers!” I yelled out as I painted the closet interior with my cum.