The Sinner, still in a semi-somnolent state after the miraculous blowjob he'd received, had been astounded by the studs' rapid-fire, occasionally insulting, repartee. He felt rather like a ping-pong ball as his head swiveled back and forth between the two so that he could observe their reactions to the latest witticism or barbed remark. When the snarky older man mentioned the need for liquid courage, he snapped awake, his stomach sinking down to his feet. Main event? An event in which he was apparently going to play a starring role?

Jumping Jehoshaphat! he thought, almost jumping to his feet himself and running out the door when he remembered the blond's earlier explanation about bottoming. Liquid courage suddenly sounded like an extremely good idea! He reached out and snagged the bourbon from Justin's hands, uncapped it, and took a healthy draught directly from the bottle. He coughed some as it rushed down his gullet, but that didn't deter him from swilling another swig.

Brian and Justin stared in astonished amusement at the former teetotaler. It was only when the raven-haired lad tipped the bottle toward his lips for the third time that Justin roused himself from his stunned stupor and snatched the bottle away from the fearful, fretting fag. "Whoa! Hang on there, True Sin! You don't wanna make yourself sick! Brian'll have a fuckin' fit if you barf on his designer furniture. You'll think the tribulations God put Jonah through with the whale were easy-peasy in comparison." 

Justin's warning was both tongue-in-cheek and deadly serious. Never, ever stain the man's designer furnishings! Vomit, no! Cigarette ash, no! Alcohol, no! Crumbs from carb-laden food, no! Crumbs from any other food, no! Come, abso-fucking-lutely not! Since it seemed likely that he'd end up having to pacify a testy stud, Justin figured he might as well join the still-virginal lad and tipped the bottle back to guzzle a couple inches of golden relaxant. 

"Fuck, Blondie, leave some for me!" the brunet stud whined.

And to think the Big Guy occasionally ridiculed him for sounding like Mikey. "Go get your own fucking bottle, Stud!" the blond retorted, clutching the bourbon to his chest and backpedaling away from Brian. "It's not like there aren't six more identical bottles of Jim Beam Black on the cart. That doesn't even include the case in storage."

The brunet pouted - yes, he could pout with the best of them! - but stropped off to the cart to, as the blond had suggested, ‘get his own fucking bottle.' He kept a wary eye on the not-quite-virgin as he did so. That boy was taking to sin like a duck to water; he was already swilling alcohol like a true reprobate.

Brian propped himself up against the headboard on his side of the bed, a mountain of pillows bracing his back, shoulders, neck, and head and waited for the two boys to join him. True Sin was chasing Justin around the coffee table and the couch, piteously warbling that a real angel wouldn't withhold that golden ambrosia from one of his apostles. The more the Sinner had imbibed, the more confused he'd gotten about the distinction between God and his angels. He'd also lost track of who was supposed to worship whom. No matter. Hilariously enough, he was spouting liturgy about God and his archangel going at it hot and heavy. Really, the brunet stud philosophized, taking another gulp from his bottle and a toke from the joint he'd just rolled, that celestial duo had nothing on him and his Sunshine.

He was curious to see how his blond sexpert would proceed with the trembling tyro. How closely would he follow the script from five years earlier? Said sunshiny sexpert suddenly bounced up the stairs and onto the bed, straddling his torso. "Aha! You did get a new supply from Anita." Justin pouted adorably - Brian was forced to use that lezzie word since there was no other adequate expression in the English lexicon - before leaning forward and taking the lit end between his teeth to shotgun some weed. Damn, that was one smokin' hot angel!

"Whatcha doin? Can I 'ave shome?" Truesen swayed alarmingly and then fell on top of Brian, knocking Justin off his perch. The blond rescued the nearly empty bottle just before the liquor would have dribbled out onto the sheets.

"Really, Sunshine? You let him have more?" Brian snorted at the goofily grinning Sinner sprawled across his chest.

"Not exactly..." In an attempt at a diversion, the blond leaned over to kiss his stud.

"Not so fast, Blondie," the brunet forestalled him. He didn't want to keep those luscious lips at bay for long, but still wrested his mind back to the suspiciously-reduced contents of the bottle of Beam long enough to ask, "What happened?"

Justin grimaced contritely. "You've been meaning to replace the sofa, right...?" he answered warily, hoping to forestall the anticipated studly temper tantrum. "There was a bit of a spill when the Sinner tackled me."

"Ish all pwetty goldensh patternded now," the Sinner helpfully contributed.

"You gonna bus dishes at the diner again to cover the cost of the replacement?" Brian badgered his blond.

"My bubble butt does earn good tips," Justin reflected, "but you get kinda cranky when the customers get too handsy. I seem to remember you almost coming to fisticuffs with Brandon last week when he gave my tempting tush a squeeze. It's not like I was actually working; I just stepped in to give Deb a hand 'cause Kiki had called in sick."

"Fucking Brandon!" Brian grumbled; "shoulda fucked him after I won the bet. Then he wouldn't be such a brash bastard."

Justin scoffed, "I know who you really wanted to fuck, Big Guy. And it sure as shit wasn't Brandon." He had no intention of telling Brian about his encounter with the dirty blond earlier that evening; it was his problem to handle, even if Brian had incited Brandon with that childish bet.

Brian, who'd been successfully sidetracked from all concerns about his sofa, shrugged and grinned wryly. "Guess I don't mind having your bubble butt around." He preferred not to think any further about that stupid wager and those dark days without any Sunshine.

"Such a ringing endorsement," Justin joked, "but it'll do. Wanna fuck to seal the deal?"

"Yesh, lesh fuck!" slurred their temporarily-forgotten guest. Although, how they could have forgotten him when he was lolling on top of Brian and drooling on his chest wasn't clear to either of the studs. "You sh- said," True Sin carefully enunciated, "that you'd make me inna real fag."

Justin laughed fondly. This virgin really was a hoot. For some reason, he attracted fags fresh out of the closet. Or still in the closet if he took Hobbs into account. He refused, though, to ruin his carefully cultivated, happily horny mood with thoughts of that tosser and quickly shoved the memories of that pillock back into the recesses of his mind. Now, as far as untried fags... First, there'd been that frat boy who imprinted on Justin when Justin had been fixated on Brian. Whether he was with Brian or not, that predilection had never really changed, so Eric didn't have a prayer. Justin winced, however, as he recalled how cruel he'd been to Eric. Well, it was over and done, so he couldn't ameliorate his behavior now - just maybe be kinder with the Sinner.

Then there had been Josh, the one he never told Brian about, a neophyte he'd met after he came to his senses and realized deeds and not words were what mattered. He'd enjoyed a three-day romp with Josh after leaving the fiddler and before using his stalking talents at Vangard to win Brian back.

"Are you sure this is what you want, True? It's not just the Beam talking? No weeping and wailing tomorrow morning?" Justin wanted to be sure that True was ready. He knew he could make it good for the Sinner, but he didn't want to deal with moping and regrets the next day.

"No, Jushin, I really want this," Truesen affirmed, gazing into his angel's celestial blue eyes.

"You know this won't make us a couple, right?" Justin asked suspiciously, a little unnerved by the naked adoration on True's face.

"Righty-ho!" burbled Truesen, "but that dushn't mean we can't be friends, dush it? At least, I think itsa 'kay to be friendsy with angels," the Sinner ended uncertainly.

"Maybe. Let's take care of that pesky virginity of yours first." Justin patted the mattress, "How about you roll off Brian and over to this side of the bed?"

"I can dush that!" Truesen nodded eagerly. He had some difficulty with the rolling motion, however, and ended up doing a dog-paddle crawl over to the blond. The Sinner beamed up at his angel who was, for some reason, laughing hysterically by the time True reached him.

"Fucker! You kneed me in the nuts!" Brian complained, sending his blond into more gales of glee. "Just wait till he nails your nads, Sunshine," the stud grumbled; "then you won't think it's so funny."

"Come off it, Big Guy," Justin rolled his eyes. "You're hardly writhing in pain. At the most, the Sinner cracked your nuts a bit."

Brian glared at the blond, barely refraining from reaching down to check that his fake ball hadn't, indeed, been cracked. The bubbly brat noticed his hand twitching, though, which made him cackle even harder.

"Okay, True, let's make you comfortable," Justin told his avid disciple. Justin tugged at the Sinner's necktie - which had been thoroughly besmirched by come and Beam - before pulling it over Sin's head and finally discarding it, and then urged him to crawl up the bed a bit further until his head was near the top of the mattress. He maneuvered True Sin so that he was braced on his forearms, exhorting, "C'mon, True, up onto your knees now. That's right." Justin hoped the boy's wobbly knees would hold him up. In case his legs collapsed, Justin placed a couple of pillows underneath the Sinner's hips in order to keep his ass raised into the air.

Once he had the Sinner in position, Justin leaned over until his torso almost completely covered the boy's back. He nipped and sucked at True's neck before gradually blazing a path down the lad's spine with his tongue, goosebumps forming in his wake.

"Uh, huh, huh, ha!" the Sinner moaned a steady paean in accompaniment to the blond's actions.

When Justin reached True's nearly pancake-flat ass cheeks, he spared a fleeting thought that Christian charity would have him share of his own butt bounty with his fellow fag. Not medically feasible, though, not to mention that Brian would have a hissy fit. Giggling over his stud's imagined horror, Justin parted True Sin's cheeks, holding them open with his thumbs, and slowly swiped across the Sinner's pucker with his tongue. Gently nipping at the mahogany folds, he watched the muscles pulsate in response.

A high-pitched keening noise whistled out of the sable-maned boy's mouth. "M- more. Pleash."

While True Sin shivered and shuddered in ecstasy, Justin laved his hole with saliva, pressing his thumbs against the edges of True's pucker to hold it open a teeny bit. Such a miniscule opening! Justin moved his thumbs in short caressing motions over those spasming folds and stabbed inward with his tongue. He didn't make much progress over the next ten minutes and drew his head back in frustration to assess that microscopic, virginal cock dock.

Fuck! The Sinner was even tighter than the frat boy! How was that possible? Maybe because he and Eric had only been eighteen at the time? True Sin's tunnel had been constricting for at least five years longer. Ouch! Thank goodness his not-so-angelic savior was there to work a miracle and stretch that itty-bitty opening.

Fortunately, Justin was well versed in coping with itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, diminutive holes. Brian's passage was still challenging, even though Justin had been servicing him regularly. Unlike the greenhorn Sinner, the stud had taken care of himself before the blond stalker came along to scratch his itch. It wasn't like he'd kept all those toys for his tricks, after all.

No question, though, that True Sin was the winner of the Lilliputian asshole contest! Taking a deep breath, the bold blond returned to his labors. He would breach that butthole!

While Justin was ruminating about how to proceed, Truesen had been moaning incoherently and bucking backward, seeking more of that delicious, wet heat. He groaned in relief when he felt Justin's tongue bathing his hole in more saliva. He wanted to rut his dick against the mattress but couldn't reach it unless he belly-flopped onto the bed. Pushing into the soft, fluffy down pillows with his cockhead didn't provide enough friction. Before he could resolve the conundrum or shift his weight to one arm and reach down with his hand to jerk himself off, the tip of the blond's tongue penetrated his asshole. The lad froze in place, hands clutching fistfuls of duvet.

Justin hadn't allowed True's bucking to throw him off course. He'd kept his face firmly pressed between those cheeks and finally succeeded in inserting the tip of his tongue a few millimeters, savoring the Sinner's nutty flavor. Massaging True's ass cheeks with his fingers, Justin pulled that knot apart fractionally with his thumbs, stabbed inward with his tongue, pulled out to swipe his tongue around the rim, and stabbed inward again.

Truesen's body quaked, and with a mighty roar, he again came untouched, sending spurts of come flying across the duvet and onto Brian's leg.

"You've just discovered what rimming is, True." Justin helpfully added ‘rimming' to the Sinner's gay lingo as the boy collapsed onto the bed. "Showing works so much better than telling. You'll never forget your first rim job."

Brian had been steadily stroking himself while he watched Justin initiate the neophyte into another of the pleasures of being a fag. He was shocked by how arousing it was to be a voyeur while Justin rimmed the newbie queer. Hot damn! The pupil might have surpassed his teacher. It wouldn't do to admit that out loud, of course. Brian wished he could be certain that the words would never cross his lips; however, he knew that he tended to blurt out revelations best kept to himself when the blond had kept him on edge for hours, till he was writhing and begging for release. Sometime soon, it might just be worth admitting to Justin that he had at least equaled if not outstripped Brian in the erotic arts - a surefire way to keep the little twat at Brian's side, without any overly romantic protestations of love. But not right now. Right now, it was time to move on from rimming to more serious fucking.

While her fledgling fag was being tutored in the gay arts, Daphne settled down in front of her widescreen television with a bowl of popcorn and her JT dildo. She slid the porn video of her boys into the DVD player and imagined the goings-on at the loft...

Holy fuck! That was hot! She watched as the brunet stud slid into her bestie smoothly. Why couldn't Matt - her on-again, off-again fuck buddy - do half as well with her?

Her Just Thrusty was so much more dependable than a man. Matt was such a dud anyway, refusing to let Daphne finger his prostate, much less let her test out the strap-on she'd recently purchased on him. He even squirmed away when she lightly massaged his perineum - when he was awake, that was; he liked it just fine when he was mostly asleep, pushing back and making breathy sounds of pleasure. The idiot seemed to think there was some unwritten rule that a straight man couldn't obtain pleasure from his prostate, or at least that he couldn't admit to doing so. God forbid, it might turn him gay! How could a student of psychiatry have such a ridiculous, narrow-minded attitude? If it weren't for the convenience factor - they shared many of the same classes - she wouldn't have bothered with a repeat fuck. But given that she rarely had the time to go trolling for men during the day, her options for a decent daytime fuck were finite.

Daphne wished her best friend were at the apartment with her. Or even more so, that she were at the loft. She relished the rare occasions when Justin would take a break from fucking and join her to munch on popcorn while they critiqued the night's performance. Brian would regally ignore them, unashamedly sprawled naked across the bed. Unless, of course, his performance was judged to be subpar. Then he'd stand in front of them and waggle his eyebrows and his nine-and-a-half inches simultaneously, demanding, "How can you go wrong with this?"

Once they'd soothed the stud's ego, he would join them in chowing down on the popcorn, although he always waited for Daphne's reassurance, "It hasn't been contaminated by pussy juice, Stud," before digging in. That Eww! expression of distaste on both men's faces always sent her into hysterics. She would have teased them unmercifully if she hadn't feared being banned from the loft.

Just one thing was needed to consummate her viewing pleasure and forevermore fuel her fantasies - Justin topping Brian. She knew it had happened - frequently, in fact - because she'd pestered her bestie relentlessly for six months until she finally finagled some of the details out of him. Justin had told her all about learning to top from Brian, and of course, Daphne wanted to know whether he'd ever topped Brian, who was reputed to be the ultimate top, never bottoming for anyone.

She'd seen Justin topping from the bottom, whether he was under Brian or riding Brian's dick. That one always revved her up! Ride ‘em, Cowboy! So fucking fappable! But getting to actually see the real thing was Daphne's biggest fantasy.

The young woman still needed more specifics from her bestie. It was all part of understanding the human psyche, right? Until she found a male who was willing to take a strap-on up the ass, she could hardly perform her own research. She sighed. Why couldn't her boys introduce her to an interesting, adventuresome, well-hung, studly bisexual? In the meantime, she'd continue to bombard Justin with questions.

Her lengthy list included queries about kinks, toys, oral sex, and rimming, but she was especially fascinated by the power exchange inherent in sex. How did topping feel different from bottoming? Which did he prefer? Was he really more in control when he topped? 'Cause, from what Daphne could tell, Justin was often the one orchestrating sex play with Brian, even when he was on the bottom in the standard missionary position. Ha! As if any position involving those two men could ever be considered standard. She could watch the same ‘standard' DVD over and over and still melt into a puddle every single time.

The titian-haired beauty had even asked Brian one night if he liked it when Justin topped. He hadn't protested when Justin fingered him in front of their fag hag more than once - even though she'd never gotten as a clear a view of the action as she would have liked - so she couldn't figure out why he'd never taken the blond's dick up his ass when she was present. Might as well just pop the question. By that point, the trio had decimated three joints of grade-A weed, a bottle of Beam, and consumed two extra-large pizzas. While watching Dirty Dancing for the umpteenth time, they'd passed around another toke tube. Daphne, who thought ‘Baby' was a damned silly name for a girl nevertheless admired the girl's spunk. And Patrick Swayze was indubitably hot in the role of Johnny Castle.

In what she'd thought to be a suave lead-in to her inquiry, Daphne griped, "I bet that, unlike that chickenshit Matt, Johnny would be open-minded enough to let me peg him." She'd then turned to the brunet stud and asked, "What does it feel like when Justin fucks you?" ignoring Justin's wild shushing motions and avidly awaiting the brunet's response.

Brian hadn't acted at all shocked by her question, but to Daphne's ongoing frustration, he changed the subject without divulging his opinion of Justin's topping skills. He hadn't denied that the blond did top him, though, which the young woman took as verification that Brian was - at least sometimes - the bottom in their relationship. Daphne was sure they'd made recordings of Justin topping, but she had yet to ferret out where the video-graphic evidence had been stashed.

As Daph wielded her trusty Thrusty, half-watching the porny on-screen action between her boys - which just didn't have the same visceral impact as a bedside viewpoint - and daydreamed about Justin topping Brian, the denouement of Truesen's virginity was nearing its resolution back at the loft.

Truesen sat up, and loosely clasping his knees in front of him, rejoiced, "Rimming ish ‘eavenly, Jusjin. Whatta we do next?" the eager neophyte inquired, almost bouncing on the bed as his cock began to stir again.

"Holy fuck, True! We may need to model one of the Rage characters after you." Justin whistled admiringly. "Except for me and Brian, I've never known anyone to recover as quickly between rounds as you do. That's a superpower all the fags in Gayopolis should possess."

Justin sat back on his haunches, his mind spinning with ideas for the introduction of the ‘True Sinner,' Gayopolis' newest superhero. If the hero had to wait until he was twenty-four to come into his powers, small wonder that he could blow load after load. All that backed-up come with no outlet? Justin pitied the poor bastard. What if, along with other as yet undiscovered powers, he could grant short refractory periods to other deserving fags?

Truesen didn't have a clue what Justin was babbling about, but he didn't care right then. He'd ask about Rage and Gayopolis later. He did care, however, about getting fucked. Now.

Having recognized the warning sign of the artist's twitching fingers and suspecting that he'd reach for a sketchpad any moment, Brian came to the rescue. He snapped his fingers, "Sunshine. Hey, Twat!" When the boy continued to stare off into the distance, Brian leaned forward and gave him a resounding smack on one ass cheek.

Justin jumped and rubbed a hand over the rosy pink palm print decorating the porcelain skin of his right cheek. "What was that for?" he asked, glaring at the stud. He started to scramble off the bed, "Never mind; I need to call Michael about this great idea."

"Whoa, Twat. You wouldn't wanna interrupt a perfectly good rim job, would you?" the brunet stud asked cheekily.

"How can you possibly know Michael's getting rimmed?" the perplexed blond inquired.

"'Cause that's the activity that gets interrupted when the two of you trade ideas over the phone at three in the morning." How could his boy not remember passing out mid rim job? Brian still hadn't completely forgiven Justin for that. No one should ever fall asleep during a rimming, especially one performed by Brian fucking Kinney.

Brian gestured toward the blond's straining, deep purple cock, which was currently pointing toward the ceiling, "Don't you want to take care of that by inserting it into this?" He quirked an eyebrow and swept a hand toward the virginal Sinner's ass. 

Would this be anything like that delightfully delirious rimming? the neophyte wondered, his cock already displaying its amazing recuperative powers, lengthening and becoming engorged.

"Uh." Justin's chest flushed a bright pink, which crept up his torso and his face, turning both tomato red by the time it reached his hairline. "Uh," he eloquently reiterated. Really, what could he say? It was beyond embarrassing to have forgotten about Sinful.

The brunet stud shook his head in disbelief. Only his little artiste could possibly be so distracted by the throes of creativity that he'd actually neglect not only a trick - and a unique one in this instance - but also his own raging hard-on. The boy clearly needed a caretaker, and Brian rather liked the idea of filling that position.

"True Sin, you have the teensiest, tightest hole I've ever encountered," Justin told the Mormon, "so it'll probably hurt less if I penetrate you from the back or the side instead of from the front in the missionary position." 

Justin did his best to ignore Brian's outraged gasp in regard to the Sinner's hole being the tightest ever. The man was thirty-four years old, for fuck's sake! And he'd been a practicing gay since he was fourteen! How could his asshole possibly be as tight? Why would he want it to be? Brian might play the part of the inveterate top to perfection, but he'd probably bottomed when he was younger, and he had certainly used his fingers, toys and - with increasing frequency over the last five years - Justin's dick to get himself off.

"Wha- what'd you do?" Truesen stuttered. "...you know... when you blessed Brian with your virginity?"

Brian guffawed so hard at blessed that he sprayed his last gulp of Beam all over the two boys.

"Thanks, Stud," Justin smiled as if Brian had done him a favor before leaning over to lick the golden liquid and splotches of come off of Truesen's torso. "Yum! Beam and come, two of my favorite taste sensations," the blond declared.

Brian nonchalantly shrugged and resumed stroking his dick, immeasurably turned on by that pink tongue lapping at the Sinner's torso. "Since you virgins make a habit of erupting all over my new duvets, it doesn't really matter if I add to the stains, does it?"

"You really do taste good aaall over," Justin drawled, deliberately baiting the brunet for dissing the idea that the blond had blessed him. Naturally, Brian hadn't been able to remember Justin's name that night, but - in spite of being high on Molly and Poppers - he had no trouble years later recalling the mess Justin made on his duvet. Fucking drama queen. As if the stud had never besmirched his bed linens himself.

Justin nipped and licked his way over to True Sin's right nipple, where he proceeded to encircle the nub with his tongue before drawing back and blowing on the sensitive flesh, making it tighten even further. Finally, he bit down gently on that nub while pinching the other nipple between his fingers.

Truesen arched his back, stunned at the sensations coursing through his body. "H- how did'ya know that feelsh so good?" he panted.

"Hmm, you need to learn your erogenous zones, True. A lover can help you explore them, but you're the only one who truly knows what feels good to you. If you want, I can give you some tips about what to try."

"Can you show me now, Jushin?" The newbie faggot beamed at his angel.

The blond teased, "Sure, but I thought you wanted to get fucked now." At the Sinner's emphatic nod, he continued, "In answer to the question you asked earlier, Brian fucked me in missionary position the first time. We wanted to watch each other, and that's not really possible if you're behind someone - unless you're fucking in front of a mirror, of course. Then, both of you can watch as you get off."

Truesen's eyes bugged out at the idea of looking into a mirror as he got fucked, and his dick twitched some more, evidently considering that a very enticing, albeit slightly scary, notion.

"Okay, True Sin. Your choice. But whether you want it from the front, back, or side, assume the position now!" Justin jocularly commanded, "or I'm gonna come before we get started." The blond knew he could be ready for another round in almost no time if he jerked off or asked Brian to get him off, but he wanted the bragging rights for his extraordinary control and stamina. Plus, he was enjoying riding the edge of pleasure-pain too much to stop now. He'd never gone this long during sex play without coming - not unless he was wearing a cock ring and probably other restraints, too. He doubted even Brian could claim a better record.

Truesen slowly lay down on his back, his head sinking into the pillows while he gazed trustingly at the blond. "I want to watch you... Angel."

Brian harrumphed. An angel? Hardly. "A devil's more like it," the stud mumbled. That youthful appearance, blond hair, and sunshiny smile deceived people all too easily.

The angelic blond disregarded the stud's latest snark and grinned reassuringly at the Sinner while he scooted a couple pillows under the boy's hips. "Hold your knees up to your chest, True," he instructed.

True Sin complied, licking his lips nervously while Justin took the lube from the nightstand, flipped open the tube, squirted out a large dollop, and rubbed the ointment briskly between his fingers to warm it up a little. The blond angel then reached down and smeared the lube around the Sinner's pucker, gradually pushing some inward with the tip of his index finger. When that finger sank in to the first knuckle, he added his middle finger, gradually continuing the invasion until both fine-boned digits were almost fully inserted in True Sin's ass. 

"Breathe, True Sin. That's it, in... and... out." Justin pushed his fingers in and pulled them out in time with the Sinner's shallow breaths. As the Mormon relaxed, he scissored his fingers apart and then back together. Next, Justin crooked his fingers and tapped the Mormon's prostate while simultaneously pressing against his perineum with the fingers of his other hand. 

The Sinner screamed, "Glory, glory, hallelujah!" and would have somersaulted backward off the bed if he hadn't banged his knees against the headboard.

Both studs burst out laughing. A levitating, somersaulting, born-again gay. Truly something unique in their experience.

Truesen rocked back down onto his ass and begged, "What was that, Jushin? Can ya make it happensh again?"

"I just introduced you to your prostate," giggled the blond. "You're gonna be good friends." He coaxed, "Okay, let's get your knees back in the air. That's it."

"That fuckin' giggle should be outlawed, Sunshine!" the brunet observer exclaimed as his cock expanded and hardened even more.

"He's riiight, Angel. Thash teeheehee makes me crazy," the Sinner concurred.

Naturally, that made the blond giggle harder. Justin tore open a condom package, scooted up so he was next to the virginal butt, and said, "Here. Roll it onto my dick."

Truesen blinked in confusion. He barely knew what a condom was and had never anticipated the need for one, since he'd been indoctrinated that he would be a family man with a wife and children. He and his wife would be pure until their wedding night, when they'd proceed with producing a large family, as encouraged by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Although, Truesen had half hoped that hypothetical future wife would get pregnant by osmosis, that he wouldn't have to actually touch her.

"Uh, why d'we need one of thosh? You can't get me with child," the bewildered Sinner asserted.

What had he gotten himself into? the blond wondered. It hadn't been nearly this much work when he fucked his first two virgins. Maybe Brian had a point about staying away from them; they really were a lot of trouble.

"You're correct," the blond replied, stifling a chuckle at the ridiculous notion of male pregnancy, "but I want you to live long and prosper, to fuck lots of guys. Never, ever fuck without a condom. It's the most reliable means for avoiding sexually-transmitted diseases," the blond public service announcer lectured. "Promise me you'll always use a condom."

"O- okay, I will," Truesen swore, "always. I promish onna Book a Mormon."

Justin smiled wryly. At least True was taking his warning seriously. It would take a while, though, before he realized the Mormon bible no longer applied to him. Or any other bible, probably.

Justin placed his hands over the Sinner's and showed him how to roll the condom down his cock. He then had True slather more lube onto the condom, recommending, "More lube is always better, True Sin. Sex is messy anyhow, and extra lube isn't gonna make it messier."

Following Justin's instructions, the Sinner draped his legs over the blond's shoulders. "W- wait," he quavered when he felt Justin's dick pressing against his asshole; "thash awful big. An' you shaid I'm awful small. Are you shure it'll fit?"

"I haven't murdered anyone with it yet," the blond joked and then reassured him, "True, gay men have been doing this for millennia. You'll be all right. Now, I want you to push back against me as I push forward so it doesn't hurt so much."

Truesen followed Justin's advice but still felt like he was being split in two as Justin's cock slowly pushed into him, inch by inch. By the time Justin bottomed out against his ass, True was positive he'd never want to repeat the experience. But then a miracle occurred. Justin pulled out and pushed back in, brushing across his prostate in each direction. Truesen's feet flexed and then his toes curled to the cadence of the blond's motions. Such rapture! Deliriously, Truesen wondered how, if men were made in God's image, this could possibly be considered immoral. Wouldn't every man want to experience this bliss?

Brian hadn't gotten to watch Justin fuck the frat boy, the blond's first and only virgin as far as the older man knew. With his sexual superpowers, he'd detected the virgin's scent on Justin afterwards, but observing Justin while he inducted a novice into the ranks of Pittsburgh's fags was so much better than sniffing it out after the fact. It had always been a turn-on to watch Justin fuck someone else, but this was something... more. Brian was startled to realize he was proud of his blond for showing such tenderness toward the Sinner. But for Justin, Brian wouldn't have welcomed True Sin into the loft in the first place, and he sure as shit wouldn't have been so patient with the tyro, explaining the ins and outs of gay sex and allaying his fears. 

"Jushin, there ish a seventh heaven, and we're in it," Pittsburgh's newest fag rhapsodized.

The brunet stud stroked his cock in tandem with Justin's push-pull motions and mused that the tyro might just be right. Holy fuck! He was honored to call this blond ray of sunshine his partner. Not that he'd ever spout that lesbianic drivel out loud. But he could show Justin how much he meant to him and do his best to ensure the blond never had any reason to leave him again. And of course, make it clear that his boy was the best fuckin' cocksucker in the goddamned universe. A grand gesture began to germinate in the recesses of the stud's brain...

While the brunet's plan was forming, Justin inserted the thumb and forefinger of his left hand into his mouth and licked and slurped until they were thoroughly drenched with saliva. Both Truesen and Brian were completely mesmerized as that fine-boned hand slid upward over the Sinner's ribcage until it reached the boy's right nipple. The blond caressed and pinched that distended nub with his left hand, while clasping and stroking the Sinner's cock with his right.

The Sinner panted a steady paean of, "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." His hands scrabbled at the sheets as he sought something to anchor him to the bed. So many indescribable, overwhelmingly pleasurable sensations bombarded him at once that he felt as if his soul might fly out of his body through his dick at any moment.

Justin knew he wouldn't be able to stave off his own climax much longer. He directed a come-hither look at his brunet lover, who immediately sat up and scooted over to the blond. Tongues swirled together as their lips frantically meshed. Moments later, the Sinner let loose a long, drawn-out "Aaah" as spurts of come covered Justin's hand and his own chest.

That cry of ecstasy triggered Brian's orgasm, and come started shooting all over Justin's chest and chin. Plop. Plop. More come dripped off Justin's chin to join the streamers already decorating his torso.

As soon as Sinful's muscles clamped down on his dick, Justin was also a goner. He moaned into Brian's mouth and unloaded into the condom for what seemed like forever. He almost worried that he'd overflow the latex receptacle. It might not have been so wise, after all, to stave off his orgasm for so long.

The Sinner's legs slipped off of Justin's shoulders down onto the bed, where they curved loosely around the blond's hips. The ex-virgin smiled sweetly at his blond angel, whose head appeared to be haloed in a golden glow. Then True's eyes closed and he fell soundly asleep.

"Guess he's finally fucked out," Justin commented with an affectionate, though exhausted, chuckle. He carefully pulled out of the Sinner, although he doubted the boy would awaken even if all the angels descended from on high, blowing their trumpets. He tied off the condom which had, indeed, been about to overflow and tossed it toward the bathroom.

"Yeah, you almost wore me out that first night, too," Brian sympathized with the fatigue revealed by the blond's raspy voice and slumped posture. "Damned virgins."

"Why don't you lie down, Big Guy? I'll be right back," Justin murmured, before stumbling toward the bathroom and swiping up the brimful condom on the way.

A few minutes later, he returned with a small bowl, a damp washcloth, and a dry towel. Placing the bowl on the nightstand next to Brian, Justin used the washcloth and towel to clean off True Sin's belly and chest as well as wiping off the biggest globs of come from the duvet. Then he urged Brian to turn over before straddling his waist.

"Where'd this burst of energy come from, Sunshine?" the brunet asked sleepily. He gladly complied with the blond's request to turn over when he inhaled the light, citrusy tang wafting from the bowl. 

Justin didn't bother to respond as he dipped his fingers into the bowl, rubbed the oil between his palms, and then massaged it into his lover's biceps, shoulders, and upper back. The Skinology oil was marketed as anti-cellulite, which Justin found hilarious; his stud didn't have an ounce of fat anywhere on his body, but he swore by the product's effectiveness, insisting the absence of subcutaneous fat proved it worked. The stud had privately freaked out during Ted's fatty episode a year earlier, apparently fearing that those fat cells would somehow jump out of the accountant's body and burrow beneath his own skin. Hence the inclusion of the anti-cellulite oil in the stud's pharmacopoeia of anti-aging creams and lotions.

Justin snickered to himself over the ad exec falling for someone else's marketing ploy. Brian was completely susceptible to products which promised to keep him toned, trim, beautiful and - above all - young. Since the stud was hooked on the oil, Justin had conspired with Cynthia to prepare a surprise for Brian's upcoming birthday. They cold-called the company, persisting until they'd reached Frank Barnes, Skinology's CEO.

After a phone conference that had lasted nearly an hour, Frank agreed to hear Kinnetik's pitch. The company had been marketing through Amazon, and although that provided widespread exposure, it didn't give the company the exclusive cachet that would allow them to charge more for their products.

Frank was intrigued by the idea of marketing the products to gay men, which no one at Skinology had previously considered as a target group.

Justin prepared the boards himself, focusing on the gay demographic and appealing to the increasing demand for products manufactured in the USA. Fortunately, Justin had been freelancing for Kinnetik on a couple of other accounts, so his presence at the agency went unremarked by Brian.

Van Morrison's voice drifted from the speakers, making both men smile. Together, they'd made it to the Bright Side of the Road. "Mhmm," moaned the brunet, relaxing even further into the bed as Justin moved downward, kneading the oil into the small of his back, his dimples of Venus - Justin hadn't met any other guy with dimples that sexy - the firm ass cheeks, and his toned thighs.

"I'll be your canvas and let you do that all night if you want, Sunshine," Brian muttered. "Love the magic you work with your hands..."

Justin smiled and leaned forward to murmur, "Love you, too, Stud," thinking of all the hours Brian still spent massaging his gimp hand. He never said a word; he would just reach for Justin's hand when it started spasming and rub until it had relaxed again.

After massaging his way down those long, lean legs and rubbing the stud's feet, Justin got up from the bed, pulled the duvet out from under the two dark-haired men, crawled into the bed between Brian and True Sin, and brought the duvet up to cover all three of them. Brian immediately shifted over to rest his head on Justin's chest and draped one arm and leg across the younger man in a possessive gesture, his eyes remaining closed the whole time.

Justin glanced over at True Sin and saw that the lad was looking at him forlornly. Justin wondered if True had been awake while he was massaging Brian. It might explain the longing look in the Sinner's eyes; he was probably starved for intimacy as well as for sex. 

When Justin gestured to the Sinner to snuggle up to his other side, Truesen responded with alacrity. Brian mumbled in protest as the lad's head bumped against his own on Justin's chest, but subsided when the blond murmured, "He has nowhere else to go, Brian."

All three men drifted off to sleep, Brian and Truesen securely wrapped in Justin's arms for the night.

Song for Chapter 4 

Vangelis, 1492: Conquest of Paradise Theme

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FF1mh1wqFwg