Bi Guys or The We're Not Gay Affair
Illya woke up plastered to Napoleon by drying pools of semen. "Lovely, I told him to shower," he complained loudly. His lover stirred and blasted him with fetid morning breath by announcing, "You made the wet spot, you have to sleep in it."
Illya snarkily replied, "Well, I'm always on the bottom, what do you expect?"
"You love it and you know it, IK." He punctuated his comment with a loud fart that had Illya's eyes watering. "That's me telling you how much I love you," Napoleon said.
He humped Illya's leg blatantly and tried to pull his head down.
"If you think I'm gonna blow you with that reek in here, you are sadly mistaken." Illya pouted, scratching his itchy balls. "Whose turn is it to change the sheets?" he asked.
"Yours," Napoleon answered as he tried to grab Illya's cock.
"Stop that, Napoleon. It is not my turn, I did it last time."
"What's the rush? We've slept in worse places."
"Napoleon, they're crusty!"
"Well, they're only going to get worse in a minute." He slid his hand over Illya's ass, rubbing and trying to get him in the mood. Illya sighed, turning over and raising his hips invitingly to Solo.
Napoleon grinned and reached for the industrial sized tube of love jelly.
"Don't bother, I've already done that," Illya offered.
"Why, IK, you little slut!" Napoleon said delightedly as he positioned his huge member for action. He sank in easily (a little too easily, but he'd never say that out loud) since Illya was certainly no tight-assed virgin anymore...and how...
Napoleon thrust, Illya thrust, the thrust ratio was incredible, and nothing happened.
Solo reached around to stimulate his partner, but Illya slapped his hand away. "As if you knew how to please me, Napoleon. I could have arrows on my dick and you wouldn't know where to go."
"Oh, really, IK?" he said wickedly as he changed the angle of his entry.
"Shit, Napoleon, that's my bladder!" Illya yelled, glad he was hard and couldn't piss if his life depended on it. "Do you need a road map, oh, wait, that's right, you never ask for directions..." He gasped as Napoleon finally found the spot and almost cried in relief.
"See, I told you I was good," Napoleon said snidely.
"Yes, you say it over and over again. Ahh, do that again."
I'm glad someone's having a good time here, Napoleon thought grouchily. Geez, Illya, do some Kegals or something, will ya? He continued to thrust into the lax cavity and felt Illya tighten around him. Finally...
"Yes," he yelled spurting copious amounts of his hot white thick ropy manly Solo essence into his partner's passage/channel/moist recess/bung hole (pick one of the above) while hearing Illya's gasps as he came all over the sheets.
Napoleon sighed as his dick fell out, "Illya, that was great."
He was using Napoleon's side of the sheet to wipe himself off and said, "Yeah. The earth moved. And it's still your turn to change the sheets."
Napoleon farted again. "That's just me saying thank you."
Illya waggled his limp dick at Solo and went to shower.
"Don't stick it out if you're not going to use it," Solo said, wiggling his eyebrows.
He glanced down at his hard cock and leered at Illya.
"Again? Don't you think you're getting a little old for this, Napoleon?"
"Hey, I'm only two years older than you, you little Commie fag."
"And 30 pounds heavier, too, Dorothy. And don't think I can't tell when you're leaning all your weight on me, either."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Napoleon groused.
"Yes, you rang?" Illya smirked.
"Come over here, you little monkey of love." He placed Illya's hand over his dick. "Hard as a rock."
"Just like your head, Nappy." He grinned evilly.
"Who you calling old, anyway, Blondie? I'll show you old," Solo growled as he threw IK down on the bed.
Illya moaned loudly.
"Yes, I know I inflame your desires, don't I, darling?" Solo crowed.
"Not exactly, Napoleon. I landed in the wet spot."