Return Of The Jockstrap - Part 4

Joel made a ridiculous slurping noise, obviously playing up the fact that he took Eric’s entire load without even coming up for air. The noise Keith’s dick made as he removed it from Joel’s ass was equally as lewd, although somewhat less out of place. Keith then stumbled to the bed and sat down while Erick panted while leaning against the wall.

Although far more difficult than Joel could recall, he managed to get himself to his feet and surveyed the scene. At his feet was a small puddle of his pre-cum combined with Keith’s as it leaked down his thigh. In front of him was Erick, without pants, belly poking from under his t-shirt and struggling to catch his breath after face-fucking Joel. Behind him, he could hear the deep breathing of Keith as he too came down from his exertion.

And below the crest of his titanic gut, Joel could just make out the foreskinned head of his tool pressing insistently into the flab of his underbelly. And he knew exactly what to do about it.

Grabbing Erick by both shoulders, Joel used his bulk and his newfound strength to toss him across the room to land on his bed next to Keith. The combined weight of both men made his small cot creak in protest, but it held firm. Then Joel lumbered up so that his belly was pressing into both Keith and Erick’s stunned faces, his hard and dripping cock by each of their ears.

“Which one of you wants to go first?” Joel asked in a voice that was deep and authoritative.

Neither of the smaller men said anything--they just stared upward, completely slack-jawed. Eventually Erick lifted a finger to slowly point at Keith, and Joel grinned. Then Joel reached down, hefted his belly up in both hands, and shifted his hips to slap Keith in the face with the giant log of his dick.

There was a meaty “thwack” at the impact and Keith seemed visibly dazed. In his confusion, Joel rested his belly on Keith’s head and then deftly slipped his cock inside Keith’s still open mouth. Once Keith came to he got the right idea and began to suckle on Joel’s nob with enthusiasm.

However, Keith’s enormous schlong and billowy excess made it awfully difficult for Keith to breathe, and after a few moments Joel noticed a certain slackness in Keith’s oral stimulation. Frustrated, he removed his gut to see a red-faced and nearly passing out Keith, head wobbling at the lack of oxygen but still smiling stupidly. That’s when Joel decided to switch things up.

“You,” Joel said, pointing at Erick, “help me get him in position.”

Erick knew exactly what Joel meant. Dragging Keith off the bed they managed to stand him upright, tilt him forward, and then push him to his knees so that his ass was just at crotch level for Joel. Then, performing the same maneuver as before, Joel lifted his gut, lined up with Keith’s hole, and pressed forward.

If Keith hadn’t been oxygen-starved mere moments ago he likely would have been more alarmed when he felt something the size of a beer can rudely force open his butt and slide inside. Lucky for him, the brain cells that would have registered the pain were all on an air-restricted holiday, and only a wonderful feeling of fullness and pleasure remained.

It was tough for Joel to pick up steam. Despite his obvious length, the flesh of his thighs and belly were like a constant backward pressure that made slipping out a constant problem. But after a few adjustments that caused Joel’s belly to rest almost as high as Keith’s shoulder blades, he felt himself bottom out. Then he started to hump with a vigor that belied his size and nearly sent Keith straight through the wall.

The sound was cacophonous--the rhythmically harsh creak of the bed springs, the sound of wet meat slamming together, and the constant dull moan from Keith combined to create a symphony that would have been unmistakable except for its volume. Soon the sound from Keith increased in both amplitude and pitch as Joel rammed his prostate with abandon until finally, Keith could take no more. His hole clenched hard as he dumped his seed for the second time all over the floor of Joel’s dorm--the second puddle of the afternoon.

Joel savored Keith’s orgasm, grunting happily as the big man’s muscular hole bore down on his rigid tool. He slammed away as shudders rocked the man beneath him, but just as before Keith eventually went slack, the pressure on his hole easing until his fucking was nowhere near as pleasurable as before.

He pulled out and Keith slid unceremoniously to the floor, still groaning, knees in the puddle of semen so recently produced. Then Joel looked down at Erick, who had watched the proceedings in rapt attention the entire time, and grinned.

“Your turn,” Joel said.