But it wasn’t, and that wasn’t Matt’s fault, or even Karen’s. It was his own.
It all started a week or so later, when he came out of the shower to the sight of Matt being pegged. Not the first time he’d seen it from the front by then. In the past, he’d mainly observed that have Matt on his hands and knees before her brought out a new side of Karen. She could hold him down, hiss at him to hold still, be hard and aggressive, and when Matt cried out for harder, she gave it to him. He’d even heard her whisper things in his ear; he liked it when she called him a good boy.
Except now, Frank couldn’t take his eyes off Matt’s face. It wasn’t even that sexy a sight objectively, all flushed red and grimacing. But he could see his lips move as he let out strained pleas, his eyelids flutter up and down, and he could almost see the breaths he was letting out with each thrust.
He wondered for a moment if Matt ever pretended it was a real dick in him. If it was Frank’s. Though he hoped not, if only because that wasn’t nice to Karen.
Then the image came to him, of Matt spread out before him, pushing back onto his dick with that crazy ass of his, skin hot and sweaty beneath his large hands.
He hastily turned and walked through and out of the bedroom as quickly as he could manage without being too loud. He didn’t let himself breathe until he was safely at the kitchenette and splashing cold water onto his face, waiting for his erection to fade.
His denial about what had happened, and attempts to convince himself it at least wouldn’t happen again, lasted until the next time they did double penetration. Both men kept strictly to their side of Karen, and Frank was in the back, which meant he was completely occupied at first, getting into Karen without hurting her. But then he was in, and while normally being both pressed against Karen and inside her was enough to make everything fall away, now, he kept hearing the sounds Matt made every time Frank himself thrust, and yeah, there was no way he wasn’t feeling that. He sped up slightly, heard both their moans, until he came when he heard Matt do so.
It kept on happening. Frank considered asking them to cut out all the three-way sex things and even third person present during the sex things, because he knew they’d do it, even though he also knew what they’d assume about why. But he wasn’t sure it would help anyway, because that wasn’t even the only time he was thinking about it. It started creeping into his head during idle moments, or when he was in the shower.
He tried to tell himself it made no sense. He’d never seriously wanted another man in his life. But then again, he’d spent most of his adult life wanting no one at all but Maria. From the moment he’d seen her smile in the park, it was like everyone else in the world had quietly been shuffled into the “not an object of romantic or sexual interest” category. He’d noticed when women were attractive objectively, but he’d done the same for men, too, Matt included. That hadn’t changed until he’d found himself wanting Karen, and then, again, there’d been only her. Until now.
As for those years before meeting his wife, well, the truth was, he couldn’t remember whom he’d been attracted to anymore. Whom he’d slept with had been dictated more by who’d said yes. (In retrospect, he though most girls had seen through his bullshit.) He had surprisingly strong memories of looking up and down some of the bodies of the older marines, what he remembered as being admiration. He wondered now if it had just been that.
Had he been lying to himself all this time, about what he was? He could see it. He wouldn’t have reacted at all well at the time, if he’d believed himself to be anything but straight.
Even now, he didn’t like his own thoughts. Even if Matt wanted it, he hesitated about being that guy, about pinning him down and being all rough like that. It was all well for Karen to do it; she didn’t have his physical strength. Even when he’d been at his most callous towards girls, he’d been against actually hurting them any, wanted to make sure he didn’t. And of course he thought about Matt’s original proposal, and yeah, he knew that mouth would look good on his dick, but thinking that way, even knowing he’d be looking at Matt, made him feel like those assholes he’d talked about to Karen, the ones he never, ever wanted to be *anything* like.
He knew if he asked, Matt would say yes. The certainty made him even more scared to ask.
Fill: Even If We're Just Dancing in the Dark 17/?
It all started a week or so later, when he came out of the shower to the sight of Matt being pegged. Not the first time he’d seen it from the front by then. In the past, he’d mainly observed that have Matt on his hands and knees before her brought out a new side of Karen. She could hold him down, hiss at him to hold still, be hard and aggressive, and when Matt cried out for harder, she gave it to him. He’d even heard her whisper things in his ear; he liked it when she called him a good boy.
Except now, Frank couldn’t take his eyes off Matt’s face. It wasn’t even that sexy a sight objectively, all flushed red and grimacing. But he could see his lips move as he let out strained pleas, his eyelids flutter up and down, and he could almost see the breaths he was letting out with each thrust.
He wondered for a moment if Matt ever pretended it was a real dick in him. If it was Frank’s. Though he hoped not, if only because that wasn’t nice to Karen.
Then the image came to him, of Matt spread out before him, pushing back onto his dick with that crazy ass of his, skin hot and sweaty beneath his large hands.
He hastily turned and walked through and out of the bedroom as quickly as he could manage without being too loud. He didn’t let himself breathe until he was safely at the kitchenette and splashing cold water onto his face, waiting for his erection to fade.
His denial about what had happened, and attempts to convince himself it at least wouldn’t happen again, lasted until the next time they did double penetration. Both men kept strictly to their side of Karen, and Frank was in the back, which meant he was completely occupied at first, getting into Karen without hurting her. But then he was in, and while normally being both pressed against Karen and inside her was enough to make everything fall away, now, he kept hearing the sounds Matt made every time Frank himself thrust, and yeah, there was no way he wasn’t feeling that. He sped up slightly, heard both their moans, until he came when he heard Matt do so.
It kept on happening. Frank considered asking them to cut out all the three-way sex things and even third person present during the sex things, because he knew they’d do it, even though he also knew what they’d assume about why. But he wasn’t sure it would help anyway, because that wasn’t even the only time he was thinking about it. It started creeping into his head during idle moments, or when he was in the shower.
He tried to tell himself it made no sense. He’d never seriously wanted another man in his life. But then again, he’d spent most of his adult life wanting no one at all but Maria. From the moment he’d seen her smile in the park, it was like everyone else in the world had quietly been shuffled into the “not an object of romantic or sexual interest” category. He’d noticed when women were attractive objectively, but he’d done the same for men, too, Matt included. That hadn’t changed until he’d found himself wanting Karen, and then, again, there’d been only her. Until now.
As for those years before meeting his wife, well, the truth was, he couldn’t remember whom he’d been attracted to anymore. Whom he’d slept with had been dictated more by who’d said yes. (In retrospect, he though most girls had seen through his bullshit.) He had surprisingly strong memories of looking up and down some of the bodies of the older marines, what he remembered as being admiration. He wondered now if it had just been that.
Had he been lying to himself all this time, about what he was? He could see it. He wouldn’t have reacted at all well at the time, if he’d believed himself to be anything but straight.
Even now, he didn’t like his own thoughts. Even if Matt wanted it, he hesitated about being that guy, about pinning him down and being all rough like that. It was all well for Karen to do it; she didn’t have his physical strength. Even when he’d been at his most callous towards girls, he’d been against actually hurting them any, wanted to make sure he didn’t. And of course he thought about Matt’s original proposal, and yeah, he knew that mouth would look good on his dick, but thinking that way, even knowing he’d be looking at Matt, made him feel like those assholes he’d talked about to Karen, the ones he never, ever wanted to be *anything* like.
He knew if he asked, Matt would say yes. The certainty made him even more scared to ask.