melancholic

Part 4 “Hey,” John said, voice a whisper lost in the bass. He tried again, “David, babe, let’s get you back, okay?” David mumbled, first inaudible. “I wanted to make you happy tonight”, David eventually was able to slur. “You feel so good in me”. As John turned around he saw a new man fucking his boy. A different man, older and lean with a gaunt face and a predator’s grin, was already pumping into David with a weird, mechanical rhythm. John hadn’t even noticed him circle in, but there he was, hands braced on either side of David’s waist. His cock speared between David’s cheeks, buried to the thatch of his wiry pubes. John stared, slack-jawed, at the breach. At how easily David took the second cock, at how there was no flicker of resistance. John’s body shrank, cold and small in its shell of flesh, but his cock refused to go down. He should have been angry, protective. Should have shoved the man off and barked at the others to give them space. But he just hovered, watching the new man’s balls slap up against the back of David’s thighs. The sound was hypnotic. “Am l making you happy? You feel happy, as l feel you in me” David mumbled to John. He looked at David. He was waking up, but slowly. Eyes still closed. John worked his hand around David’s face, stroked the side of his head. John didn’t know what he should do. “You’re doing so good, babe,” he heard himself murmur, the words pulled from somewhere far away. The skinny man’s thrusts weren’t fast but they never hesitated, never lost the perfect rhythm. There was a look on his face, hungry maybe, or just empty. John felt himself get even harder. He hated himself for it. The man increased his pace and didn’t seem to care that John was there, not even as an audience. It was as if he were a lamp, useful only for casting more light on what was going on. John watched the man’s face, how each thrust carved hollows in the man’s cheeks, how his eyes locked not on David’s face but on the raw junction of their bodies. The man wanted only the hole, not the person, and that somehow made it worse and better at the same time. John reached for David’s hand, squeezed it, trying to keep him tethered. The man increased his breathing until he sounded as loud as the first man, slapping forward with a violence that shamed John all the way to his bones. The fucking stopped. Cock still deep in David. Then slowly pulled out and it looked like he was pulling something out of a wound, something that would never close, and the hole just gaped, pulsing lightly as David shuddered. Still not knowing what was happening to him. The hole was wet with cum. John saw his chance to get the finish he needed. But could he, in front of these men? He got up and behind David. It was like some monster inside him. Every thrust David had taken had built a hungry. He knelt, hands trembling, and pressed the thick head of his cock into the mess that was now David’s hole. The heat, the shock of easy entry, nearly made him black out. He gripped David’s hips hard enough to bruise. One thrust, and the world fell away. He’d imagined being a monster so many times, if he was honest with himself. Imagined what it would take to break through the cautious, loving front and get to the animal underneath. His cock sank all the way in on the first stroke, and the movement forced out a low groan from David. “Mmm you feel so good” John wispered to David. He said it because he needed to believe it. That there was an interaction, that this wasn’t something being done to David. That he wanted it too. His hands ran over David’s spine, feeling the tremors as he pushed in slow but deep, every movement mixing with the filth of the men before. The sounds from the watching men, sometimes a whispered comment, sometimes just the low, rhythmic slap of hand on cock, blended into the static in John’s head. He was doing this. He was fucking his boyfriend, full of other men’s cum, and David was taking it with a soft sound, helpless and perfect. His own body betrayed him: it felt so, so good. The heat, the looseness, the frictionless ease of it. He gripped David and went faster. David was move more, increasing control of his body. “What are you doing” David said, looking around. “Stop” The air tightened between them, the silence too thick to break with just his own breath. “Sorry. I thought you wanted this.” The words came out dry, chemical, not anything close to an apology or an explanation. David squirmed under his grip; not like before, not wanting more but wanting out. His legs kicked, his voice growing louder. “Stop. John. What the fuck. STOP.” Thoughts went through Johns head. David didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. He was still deep in him. Fuck, he thought to himself. What have l done. But also going through his mind was the fact that David had taken three cocks, but only refused one. His. He felt shame. Shame for what he had done, and shame for being rejected in front of these men. He felt them judging him. He was overwelmed with emotions. His head a mess. But he needed to finish. It was like he had no choise. He grabbed David’s hips and went hard, punishing them both. Fucking him in front of everyone, his balls slapping loud enough to echo against the wall. The voyuers didn’t matter, the looks on their faces didn’t matter. Only the wet, ruined hole. Each time he bottomed out, the heat of it made John’s head pulse. He only needed a few pumps before filling David with his cum. He squeezed David's hips with shaking hands, pulled in, ground out a sharp, almost sobbing breath. Heat flashed up his spine. He pressed his forehead to David’s back and let go. The relief was like a full-body collapse; the rush and then the hollowness after. He stayed inside him, softening, half waiting for judgment, half begging for forgiveness. He didn’t remember pulling out, only that his thighs prickled with sweat and that his cock looked raw and angry. John reached for a towel someone tossed, wiped himself off. He wrapped David in it, cradling him like a lifeline, ignoring the mess and the fading eyes of the men in the room. David was silent now. He seemed confused more than anything.

Thanks for the comments, l enjoy reading them. l will continue to add to the story. The next parts might vary some in length, as l see fit. l might also add a part or two where the focus is more on the couple than explicit sex. But dont worry, there are a lot of sex on the way 😉

The man’s cock slid inside, slower than John expected, thick shaft dark with veins, the head glistening. John saw the man’s belly jiggle and heard the damp clap as the man bottomed out—God, every inch. David didn’t resist, didn’t stir. One of the stranger’s hands gripped the back of John’s neck, heavy and rough. Urging him to get in closer, to see every detail. For a moment, John’s mind blanked out. All he knew was the sight, impossible and obscene, of another man’s fat cock moving in and out of David— of how easy, how natural it looked, as if David’s body was made for this. He heard David moan, against the sound of the wet, animal slap when the man pressed all the way in. John felt his stomach twist. The man’s hands now clamped tight to David’s hip, holding nothing back. It looked brutal, but also… as if the man did this every week, knew just how much force David’s body could take before it broke. John stared, hypnotized — the flesh of David’s hole stretching snug around the thick shaft. Another man splitting open his boy and making it look effortless. Fuck! A little critical thinking came back to John. This man, this stranger was fucking David bare. “You need to put a condom on” he said a bit nervous. The man’s hips stopped with the same calm authority as before. The cock slid out, glossy, and David’s hole closed around nothing. “Of course,” the man said calmly. “It’s condoms in the changing room”. As John turned to walk he heard the man push back into David with force, as David gave out a big moan. John stomped through the changing room, stomach churning. He passed the mirrors. He hated the way the lights made his skin look jaundiced, hated the weird film of sweat on his chest and arms, hated how hard his cock still was. There was a vending machine, a bit hidden away, with condoms and lube packets. His hands shook as he took out a condom. He imagined what the man was doing to David in there. He needed to be there. To keep David safe he told himself. He walked back with the condom in hand. He heard them before he saw them. David was moving more to the rythm of the fucking. The man was fucking rough. Three men had gone over and was watching. Cocks in hand. The fucking intencified, and the man started grunting louder and then guttural. David’s body rocked forward with each thrust, then pulled back by the mans strong hands. This was not what he wanted for them, for David, but it was happening and his mind latched onto each detail, powerless to look away. The three men watching rubbed themselves in a form of synchrony, enjoying what thay had in front of them. As John reached his hand over with the condom the man gave out a roar. It was over before he knew it — the sound of the man’s cry, the slamming thrust, and David’s ass mashed against the stranger’s waist. The man sagged, both hands heavy on David’s hips, and the room seemed to shudder for a second, all the bodies standing a little straighter as though a current had passed from one naked man to another. The three spectators at the edge pumped their cocks, one of them already sticky-handed. John was not sure if he should step in or just vanish. The man said nothing. He stayed where he was, half-collapsed against David, catching his breath. Eventually he pulled out, letting David slouch forward, then turned to John with a look of victory. The man took the condom, stil in John’s hands, as he past him. No thanks, no goodbye, just the rank smell of fucked skin and stale aftershave. John looked at Davids hole, glistering with pale slime, open, the memory of the man’s cock still printed in the trembling rim. A drop of cum leaking out. John felt shame, then a deep, queasy tenderness. He wanted to wrap David up, towel him off, anything to erase this place and everything that just happened. John crouched next to him, palm gentle on David’s face.

Part 2 He’s cock was creasing up toward his belly as they maneuvered David through the room. The other man—stocky, not typically attractive, hairy belly even thicker than John’s—kept one meaty hand under David’s armpit for balance. The man turned to John. “He is pretty out. Probably wont remember a thing. You should feel his warm hole” the man guided johns hand down.The skin of David’s thigh was warmer than expected, almost feverish, and slick. It was ridiculous, absolutely not his scene, and yet his cock jerked again, the man’s words heavy in the air. John felt a pulse of shame. David trusted him, always trusted him, and here he was, hard as a rock, getting off on the idea of fucking his boyfriend while some stranger watched. ”Can l just see you line up your amazing cock against his hole” the man whispered. John hesitated, face burning, but the man’s grip on him was insistent, a silent promise that what happened here never left the thick walls and sweat of this club. The urge to flee warred with the harder urge that pressed against his abdomen. David’s head lolled back, mouth slightly open, lids tremulous but closed—he looked so young and innocent. The music changed; a deeper, bassier track, the same beat John’s pulse had settled into.“Go on,” the man whispered, his breath hot and sour, and before John could think better of it, he was kneeling, cupping David’s ass, spreading him just slightly to see if it was true. It was. The hole was glossy, a faint sheen of something clear around the rim. For a second, John thought he might cry—shame, gratitude, lust all flaring inside so hot it seared.The stranger’s hand was hot on the small of his back, steadying him as John braced and lined himself up, which felt insane, humiliating, and—fuck—the tip of his cock touched David’s slicked opening and all of those feelings vanished under a tide of rawness. He pressed forward, just a nudge, feeling the tightness give, then stop, then give again. David made a small sound, halfway between a sigh and a moan, and the stranger squeezed John’s shoulder with a possessive, approving grip.This wasn’t how John wanted it, not really, but the smell of sweat and musk and the beat of the nightclub pressed every nerve into alertness. He looked up to David’s face, searching for a sign he should stop. David’s eyes were closed, lips parted, the same way he looked when he slept after a too-long day, safe and deep. John kept his hands on David’s hips so no one else could see how badly he was shaking. He was inside, a fraction, feeling a wild, sick thrill that made his vision pixelate. The stranger’s rough hand stayed on his back, guiding, not rushing him. John could hear the older man’s breath near his ear .He didn’t thrust, not yet—just held himself in that impossible stasis, feeling every trembling twitch of David’s body. The two of them being watched and helped, being made complicit in something neither of them had dared name. All those years of self-loathing, of avoiding mirrors or changing rooms, and now here he was, plugging his beautiful drunk boyfriend in a shadowy club, a hairy stranger’s palm steady on his back, and not even trying to hide how much he loved it. “Your cock is perfect in your boy. You’re a hot beast” the man whispered. John tried to breathe, but each inhale snagged on a raw, dry catch in his throat. The music pounded hard enough to set the bones of his skull shivering. He didn’t dare move. There was a moment—maybe five seconds, maybe a century—where the whole world was nothing but the warmth of David’s body, the stranger’s damp palm on his back, and the metallic taste of his own saliva. He should stop. He should pull out, shake David awake, bundle him home, never mention this again. But the stranger’s hand kept him steady, heavy as a yoke. David’s skin under his own hands was so soft, so hot, he could feel a tremor running through him. David’s opening, stretched around him, was wet and perfect. John stayed like that, just a couple of inches inside, trying to regain control.“You can take him. He wants it. He is your slut. For you to use as you need” the man said, voice close enough to be inside his skull. John braced, squeezing David’s hips, the wet heat coaxing him farther. He’d always worried about hurting David, but here, now, that fear dissolved. He wanted to fill him, plug him until there was no daylight left, fuck him so hard the world outside the club would never be the same. He pulled out and watched his hard cock, and David’s lovely hole. “You are a hot beast. Have you ever watched your boy take another cock in his hole” the man asked. John felt the bottom drop out of his gut. He'd known, intellectually, about the culture of these places, but knowing wasn't the same as being here. John had always wondered what it would be like to let go, to not care who watched, or what he looked like under these lights. He wanted to say no, wanted to walk out with David slung over his shoulder and never come back. He knew he should. But the man’s words burrowed deep, hollowing him out: your boy, your slut, for you to use. He'd never thought of David that way. But now the thought was planted, and when he looked down at the easy, careless sprawl of David’s body, the long legs open and trusting, it rang true in a way that was both sickening and exhilarating. “No,” John said, voice shaky, but it barely sounded at all. The man’s hand was still there, on his ass, as if waiting for an answer. A pulse of nausea. He was used to exerting control, making most of the decisions for David, but not like this, not in this darkness and noise, his body betraying him. It was getting hard to remember why they’d come. He looked up, the man’s face blotchy in the blue and red strobe lights. A polite nod, not a sneer. Not judging at all—expectant, maybe. Like this was as natural as having a cigarette with friends. John looked at the mans growing cock. His body and cock was not unlike his own. He could taste the sour, almost medicinal tang of sweat and old drinks in the air. The man’s cock was thick, less stiff than John’s but rising, flopped against a walrus-soft belly dusted with black curls. It reminded John of himself: ordinary, nothing like the jocks and models he sometimes saw on his phone late at night, but in this room, under this light, essential. Animal. The man moved forward. He got so close that John could smell the old-fashioned aftershave in the ruff of his chest. No words were necessary. John shivered, wanting to be sick but also—God, he wanted to see it, to know what David looked like with another man’s cock in him. David was limp but his pulse, rabbit-fast in the crook of his thigh, thrummed against John's fingertips. The stranger waited, his meaty cock heavy in his fist. “What do you say? You want to see me fuck your boy?” The question wormed its way into John’s head, squirming. Did he want to see another man fuck David? No, that wasn’t it—did he want David to get what he deserved. See him turned from a guy not wanting sex, to being used like a whore. His whore. He did. He really did. In the moment, the revulsion and urge to protect fused with something reckless and starved, a need that didn’t care about dignity or intent. He thought of the nights he lay beside David, hard and wanting, settling for the sweet, close comfort of his boy’s body, wishing for more but never asking. He thought of the hunger, the quiet, constant ache that had become the background radiation of their life together. Was this how it finally got out? Not with love, or consent, just raw appetite and the sick thrill of surrendering it all? The man took John’s silence as a yes. He maneuvered David’s limp body with a grim gentleness. John’s knees ached against the sticky floor. The man guided his cock with a steady hand, the mushroom head damp, and pressed it against David’s hole.

John and David had been together for what felt like a lifetime. They had met when David was just 18, and now, John was 47 and David 25. John had always struggled with his self-image. At 5’9” and 220 lbs, he couldn’t help but compare himself to younger, fitter men. His body had grown hairier, his hair was turning gray, and his gut had expanded since he met David. The one thing he still liked about himself was his cock—7.5” and thick, just as hard now as it was when he was 18. He often wondered how he had gotten so lucky with David. David was everything John wished he could be—6’1”, blond, green-eyed, with a toned body, a lovely smile, loving eyes, and a juicy bubble butt. John’s self-consciousness didn’t stop at his appearance; he often felt inadequate in every aspect of his life. David had always been his rock, backing him up with unwavering support, a kind smile, and comforting hugs. From the moment they met, it felt right—a deep, undeniable connection. They cuddled often, and the sex was good, even though David wasn’t very experienced and John hadn’t been with anyone in a while. John preferred to top, but David wasn’t always comfortable with anal, so they mostly cuddled, jerked, and sucked each other. As the years passed, they grew closer, becoming each other’s greatest support. The sex became less frequent. David wanted it less and less, while John craved it, ideally every day. In reality was more like once a week or a couple of times a month. David would let John fuck him sometimes, but those occasions were rare. They lived their lives, spent lots of time together, and enjoyed each other’s company. In many ways, John felt he couldn’t ask for more, yet he yearned for more sex. It had been an incredibly stressful year for both of them. John worked in finance, always feeling out of place among his more alpha-acting colleagues. The margins had gotten thinner, and the pressure grew. David had been between jobs but always managed to land on his feet in the end. They had planned a holiday in warmer weather, a much-needed break from the stress. The first few days were lovely—they both relaxed immediately. David even got on his knees and sucked off John in their hotel room on the second day. John had seen lube packed in David’s bag, and they seemed off to a great start. One warm evening, they decided to have a few drinks after dinner, something they rarely did. As they walked back to the hotel, they passed a gay club. Neither of them had ever really been part of the gay scene. They stopped and looked at the club, its neon lights flickering invitingly. “Should we take a look?” David asked, his voice slurred a little from the alcohol. “Nah,” John answered, his discomfort palpable. “It looks seedy, and the dress code says naked on Fridays.” David had a cheeky smile. “Could be fun to just have a look. We’re far away from home, no one knows us here.” John looked at David, a mix of annoyance and longing in his eyes. Despite David’s waning interest in sex, he had never had a problem walking around with little clothes on or even skinny-dipping. John knew it wasn’t the same thing, but it still kind of irritated him. “I don’t want to get undressed in a room full of strangers. You know why. You know why that would feel awful,” John said, his voice tinged with bitterness. David moved closer to John, his eyes softening. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you. I wish you would stop putting yourself down. It could be fun for a little while, then we could head back. I’m sure you’re more handsome than the men already in there.” John really didn’t want to, but he could see that David wanted to try something new. “Okay, but just for a little while,” he conceded, his heart heavy with reluctance. As they paid and were shown to the changing room, John felt a growing sense of unease. The efficiency with which the club enforced the “dress code naked” policy surprised him. “Should we just go?” John asked, looking at himself in the mirror, his insecurities screaming at him. David, seemingly a bit less confident than he was outside, replied, “No, let’s just have a look, maybe a drink, then leave.” They ventured further into the club, the dim lights casting eerie shadows. The room felt large, with about 10-12 men spread out in groups of two or three. John felt incredibly uncomfortable, but seeing the other men, most of whom were older and similarly sized or larger, helped a bit. The bar was more brightly lit, with a group of men standing there. “Can you go get us a drink?” John asked, not wanting to draw attention to himself and preferring to stay in the dim light. David agreed and went to the bar. A man whispered to John, “A sweet boy you have. Bet he’s lovely to fuck. A nice bubble butt like that, on a boy like him. Bet he loves your fat cock in him.” John didn’t say anything, feeling even more uncomfortable as the man briefly grabbed his cock. “MMM, I can feel you wanting to fuck him,” the man said. John pulled away, but he did felt himself getting harder. He stood alone as David returned. “It’s really weird being in a room with naked men,” David said. “Yeah, I’m ready to leave,” John said, trying to seem half-joking. They chatted, kept to themselves, and tried not to stare at the other men. It seemed the last drink hit David harder than it should. He got a bit funny, more out of it than John had ever seen him. John went to the bar to get some water. Another man started chatting with him. “Lovely boy you have. I can see that he maybe got a little too much to drink”. “I think so, yes,” John answered. “I could help you get him on his feet, he seems to have collapsed a bit on the couch over there,” the man offered. John looked and saw that David was indeed slumped over. “I think we’re good,” he said, but then thought about himself being naked, trying to pull a naked David out of the room. Maybe it would be more discreet if they carefully supported David on either side. “Maybe, if you don’t mind,” John said. “No problem, happy to help,” the man replied. They walked over to David, who was awake but a bit dazed. They took him on either side and had him up in no time. The man turned to John and whispered, “You’re a lucky man. He has has lubed his hole, ready for you to fuck him. I had a feel” The man stroked Johns back, and he could feel the wet finger. He must have done it as they lifted David. John was confused for a second but realized David must have planned for it before they left for dinner, thinking they would fuck when they got back to the hotel room. He felt his cock stiffen.