How A 3-Way Turned Me Gay

  HOW A 3-WAY

  TURNED ME GAY

  By Julie Zen

  Copyright 2015 Julie Zen

  Smashwords Edition

  * * *

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This book contains explicit sexual material that is not intended for readers under age 18. Do not reproduce any portion of this ebook in any medium without the express written consent of the author. Cover design is by the author using stock images of models.

  1* * *

  EXCERPT

  My palms are sweating, my fingers trembling. I bend down and carefully undo his belt. I pull it out, then set to work on the button of his jeans. I can see his bruised abs rise and fall, and he smells even better up close. The button doesn’t want to come loose right away, but when I see something move underneath, I pull harder until it comes loose.

  I tug down the zipper, then discover his white underwear. I root my fingers under the waistband, then pull it all down. There’s resistance at first, then the sides begin to fall. I see the protrusion, the swollen disturbance in his briefs. I take care not to hurt him, no matter how much my instincts rush me. There’s hair. Then the base. Then the whole thing flips out at me, red and hard. A bead of pre is dripping from the tip.

  He’s excited, too. And he’s mine.

  * * *

  STORY

  “No, really,” I said. “I’m curious.”

  “We just thought it would be nice to have a little party,” said Sharon, my best friend’s wife. She and Hal were still leaning against each other on the couch across from me. Sharon had a glass of wine in one hand and the end of Hal’s tie in the other. “Besides, you and Hal have known each other, what, since grade school?”

  “First grade,” I said with a nervous laugh. “It just feels a little weird, that’s all.” I stared into my own glass, then tilted it this way and that. The deep 1968 vintage, nearly black in the dark candle-lit living room, looked like a bottomless pit. I knew I’d had too much. I could feel myself falling into it.

  “Weird?” asked Sharon. “Why’s that?”

  “Well, I mean, not in a bad way or anything,” I said. “It’s just, you know, it’s your anniversary. I feel like I’m intruding.”

  Hal and Sharon looked like they were posing for a photo shoot. Sharon had on a glittery black cocktail dress and heavy makeup that made her eyes look even bigger. Her short black hair was slicked back against her head like a flapper, the sharp tips matching the firm creases of Hal’s slacks. Sharon had undone the knot of Hal’s tie, and she now set to work on the top two buttons of his shirt. Between her roaming fingers, I could see his chest hair - and that he looked just as nervous as I felt.

  “Nonsense, darling,” said Sharon as she set down her glass. “We’ve been meaning to have you over for some time.” She then gave Hal’s tie a sharp tug, yanking it out of his collar. “Haven’t we, baby?”

  He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing. He licked his lips, then picked up his own glass. He gulped down the last of his wine, puffed his cheeks, then swallowed it with a gasp. The glass made a loud “clack” as he set it on the table next to him.

  Hal was a strong guy, but always kind of a softie. We hung out all the time in school. We grew apart after high school because he went into the military. He came back as a drill instructor, and suddenly he seemed more serious than ever. Stronger, too. But that night, he looked just like the first time we met. The new kid with the funny accent in Miss Hawkins’ class.

  Then I saw a swoop of black. Sharon was standing up in front of me. She had already helped Hal up from the couch.

  The two were kissing. Slowly, tenderly. Her long black opera gloves slid through Hal’s buzzcut, then down the back of his shirt. She squeezed his ass and pulled him closer. Their faces slid against one another, Sharon leading the way, her long silver earrings dancing like windchimes.

  They looked so beautiful together. So perfect. So sexy. Yet, there I was, sitting there in my Hawaiian shirt and khakis, neither of them ironed.

  Then Hal looked at me. I blushed.

  “I should probably—go—” I said as I grabbed the arm of the couch. I stood up, more nervous than ever. I thought about an elegant way to say my goodbyes, but before I could take a step, hot satin fabric gripped my wrist.

  I looked up. Sharon had peeled her left arm from Hal to grab me. She stared through me with those deep green eyes that seemed to glow from the darkness. Her deep red lips curved into a mischievous smile.

  “Nuh-uh-uh,” she said, her mouth opened in a silent laugh. I felt her pull me her direction. “I think you should sleep that off.”

  That’s not a bad idea, the less rational part of me thought. No other thoughts came, so I started to walk.

  I watched as Sharon turned around in front of me. Her expensive perfume whisked off her skin, and I was helpless to deny the scent. I soon saw Hal was next to me, held by her other hand. The three of us walked down a hallway. It felt like a dream. All I could see were the tiny lampshades on the wrought-iron fixtures protruding from the walls.

  I felt a little sleepy, so when a door opened, I figured they were going to take me to the guest room. But all three of us stepped across the threshold. On the other side was my best friend’s bed.

  Hal and Sharon were kissing again. I wanted to leave. But Sharon held my wrist tighter.

  She kissed me.

  She brushed my cheek, then slid back into Hal’s embrace.

  “Unzip me, baby,” she said, looking over her shoulder. Hal bit his lip, then set to work on her zipper. His wife kissed me again, then started to mess with the buttons on my shirt. Hal slid the dress from her shoulders, and I saw the tops of her breasts. She tugged my shirt harder. I tried to help her, but then she ripped it open, scattering buttons on the floor. She kissed me even faster, more urgently. Her breasts touched my chest.

  I lost track of Hal. I heard more kisses, then the sound of Sharon’s dress falling around her ankles. I didn’t realize how much this distracted me until I felt Sharon’s fingers wiggle underneath the waist of my pants.

  I was hard. She could tell.

  “Mmm, what have we here?” she asked. Naked, she stepped back and unbuttoned my pants. The weight of my keys dropped them to my feet, and my underwear quickly followed. My cock stretched into her hand.

  Her wet hand.

  Sharon sighed, then leaned back into the hands that caressed her shoulders. Hal reappeared behind her, his naked body embracing her like a throne of flesh. She leaned her head back and kissed him, releasing my cock to smear my scent on her stomach. The two became entangled, then fell lengthwise onto the bed, their glistening backsides facing me.

  Hal tried to climb on top of her, but Sharon had none of it. She straddled his lap, then reached behind her. I watched as his cock plunged into her.

  Hal began to thrust. How nice of them to let me watch. I started to masturbate.

  Then Sharon looked at me.

  “Stu, come here!” she cried. Her left hand let go of her husband, then slithered between her buttocks. “I want you inside me, too!”

  “You want—” I said, still watching Hal’s cock.

  “My ass, Stu!” Her voice choked back into a distracted mumble. “I need you in my ass—”

  Cock in hand, I climbed onto the bed, my eyes still glued to the thrusting motions of my best friend’s cock. Sharon’s hand reached for me, but was immediately dissatisfied with my fingers. She shook away from them, then grabbed my cock. She pulled me into her again. I walked on my knees. Hal’s legs brushed against mine. Every hair on my body stood on end.

  I didn’t have to do it. She backed into me.

/>   “Ohhh yesss!” she cried. “That’s it - both of you - make love to me!”

  Sharon moaned louder than ever. She rocked back and forth against Hal and myself. I leaned forward, and I felt her sweaty back slither against my chest. Between us, our cocks slid together inside my best friend’s wife. The subtle bulging and contracting of her warm ass gripped, then released my length. Her perfume smeared onto our bodies. It merged with our musk to form the intoxicating odor of expensive sex.

  Soon after, we rolled to my left. The three of us huffed hot breaths into her glass headboard. Sharon broke a kiss from Hal and brought her arm to my shoulder. She turned her head my direction. She kissed me - almost ate me. And the two of us fucked her harder.

  Beyond her gaze, I saw Hal’s face. He was concentrating, his eyes pinched shut. I saw the sweat on his brow, the subtle creases from his eyes. He grimaced, and I saw those teeth. Those amazing white teeth. Our faces were so close. Our bodies brimmed with shared pleasure. My heart raced. My balls tingled. He looked in pain. I guess I wanted to soothe him.

  Maybe that’s why I kissed him on the lips.

  Hal’s eyes shot open. He sprung back.

  “Augh! Dude!” he yelled as he wiped his lips.

  Something hot splattered against my thigh. It reeked of seed, heavy with musk. Sharon shouted back at him.

  “Hal, get back here - now!” My cock fell out of Sharon’s ass. She got to her knees. My face was red from embarrassment.

  I jumped off the bed and grabbed up my clothes. I held them to my chest, then ran out of the room. Sharon was yelling something, and Hal was yelling back. I found my keys and scrambled out the front door.

  * * *

  That was last night. I haven’t talked to Hal or Sharon all day.

  But I can’t get that kiss out of my mind. Or my hand off my cock.

  It’s nighttime again. I’m naked and rolling around on my couch. One hand is pumping my cock. The other is fingering my ass. I’ve never played with my ass until today, but now I can’t get enough. This time, I’ve slipped two fingers inside. My ass grips the slippery digits, and my cock thrums harder in my hand. I stroke myself harder, then lift my legs higher, curling myself into a ball. The fingers slip in even deeper. My shaft seems to bulge. My tip is dripping with pre, the glutted head aimed at my chest.

  My mouth is dry. I want something to wet it.

  My ass squeezes my fingers and I cum. Hot seed splashes off my chest. I stick out my tongue this time, and I catch one precious drop. More cum bursts out of me, adding length to the puddle until it tapers near my navel. My tongue isn’t long enough.

  I uncoil from my ball. My fingers slip out of my puckered ass. The puddle of seed flattens as it spreads, leaking hot drips down my sides and into the worn-out fabric of my couch. As my heels knock an empty tissue box from the armrest, I draw deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. But I’m too excited to relax. And my dick is still hard. I know I’ll have to do it again.

  I get up from the couch. My cum slithers down my stomach, then drips onto my erection, my feet, my carpet. I walk through a pile of balled-up tissues, scattered like stinky hail on my floor, and head toward my apartment’s kitchen. The water from the faucet gets warm fast, and I wash my hands.

  When I’m done, I sniff my fingertips, but they still smell like ass. I keep sniffing. Then I lick them. I can’t help it.

  Something’s happening to me. I’m changing. But I feel too good to worry.

  Then there’s a knock at the door.

  I’m startled. I’m not expecting any visitors. The knocking returns, louder this time.

  I glance around me, then find my bathrobe hanging on the back of a chair. I throw it on, then walk up to the door. The fabric starts to glue to my sticky belly. Through the peephole, I see two people standing there. The shorter one in front is wearing a black trench coat. The one behind is wearing jeans, but no shirt. I recognize Hal’s face before Sharon speaks.

  “Open the door, Stu,” she says, pounding the door. “I know you’re in there. Open up.”

  There’s something different about her voice. She sounds really serious, even intimidating. It makes it harder to remember my apology. So I open the door instead.

  “Look, I’m sorry about—” I start, but the two rush into the room. Hal is limping. He’s so close to Sharon that he almost trips over her, too. I then notice the purple bruises on Hal’s back, the red streaks across his shoulders. “Oh no! What happened?” I close the door.

  Hal doesn’t look at me. Instead, Sharon walks into view, bemused by my messy apartment. Wrapped around her right hand is the end of a long strip of fabric. As she walks around Hal, the fabric leads my gaze back to Hal, then stops at the matching collar around his throat. It’s a leash. She jerks the length hard enough that Hal stumbles, then grips the top of my couch with his big hands.

  “Nothing,” says Sharon. Hal hisses. His cheek is red.

  “Dammit, honey,” he says. “Do we really have to—” Sharon slaps Hal across the face. He falls to his hands and knees.

  “You don’t have permission to speak,” spits Sharon, pointing at him. “Not until you make it up to your master!”

  “Hey, stop that!” I say. I take a step toward Sharon, but her gaze stops me. I hold up my hands.

  “Hal’s in the doghouse,” she says, turning back to her husband. “That’s why he’s wearing this. He was a bad little dog last night.” She unrolls the leash from her hand and passes it to me. “Hold this for me, will you?” I take the leash from her, then when she isn’t looking, let out a little slack. Hal’s still on all fours. And he still won’t look at me.

  I hear a zipper. Sharon blooms out of her jacket. Beneath, she is wearing a set of black lace lingerie, including a garter belt that leads down to a pair of striped black stockings. She lets her jacket flop on the ground, then struts on stiletto heels toward my recliner near the couch.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I ask. Sharon turns, then sits down and crosses her legs. She then makes a come-hither gesture at me.

  “Come here,” she says. “And bring my dog with you.” I obey. I walk into the middle of my living room, onto the carpet between my couch and the recliner. The leash becomes taut, then slackens again. I look back and see Hal is still on all fours, plodding through the tissues filled with my spunk. “Right there. Stop.”

  I look back at Sharon. She’s caressing her right breast.

  “Tell me, Stu,” she says, uncrossing her legs. “Is that for me? Or for my dog?”

  “What are you—?” I then notice my robe has loosened, giving Sharon a view of my erection. I cover myself, then accidentally jerk Hal’s leash in the process. He grunts. I glance behind me.

  “I thought so,” said Sharon. She looks around me, back at the creature on the other end of the leash. “Then you know what to do, don’t you?”

  Hal sighs, then sticks out his left leg. He presses his bruised hands against it, then stands up behind me. Maybe it’s just how short his leash is, but somehow he seems taller. Bigger.

  “Stu here has a bone for you,” says Sharon, sliding her hand down her belly. “It’s under that robe of his. You’ll have to dig for it.” I turn toward Hal. He glances at me, then shakes his head at Sharon. I hear her sitting up in the chair.

  “Take. Off. Stu’s. Robe,” she says.

  My heart is racing. Hal turns toward me, then reaches his hands at my lap. We’re both standing sideways in front of Sharon. Just a few inches from my dick, I feel his fingers untie my robe. It falls open, and my naked body offers its length to him. My stomach is still glistening with cum. I remember how dirty I am. But I don’t mind him seeing me.