Connor Clade - Threesome with the Big Man

Christ, they’re at it again.

Braden tried putting the pillow over his head, but it didn’t do any good. He could still hear the two of them fucking, in the bedroom just the other side of the thin wall. His roommate Darnell and his girlfriend, Lacey, were fucking.

Not ‘making love’, not ‘sleeping together’. This was loud, enthusiastic, hard core fucking.

And it was driving Braden crazy.

Look, he was glad Darnell was letting him crash. He needed a little time, a little space to get his shit together, and he was glad Darnell was giving that to him. And Darnell surely didn’t have to.

It wasn’t even the first time Darnell had helped him out. As the skinny white kid in a mostly black neighborhood, Braden had had his troubles, growing up. He would have had worse troubles, if Darnell, five years older and even then tall and strong and tough, hadn’t made it clear that Braden was his boy. Under his protection.

Fuck with Braden? Then you would be fucking with Darnell. And that was not a good idea. Darnell was not a skinny white kid. He was tall, and black, and strong, and not to be fucked with.

He owed Darnell. A lot. But it didn’t make this situation any easier.

Braden tried to roll over on the lumpy sofa, a task made all but impossible by his raging erection. He had already jerked off twice, since Darnell and Lacey had walked into the bedroom, their hands already all over each other. He didn’t really want to do it again.

But he might have to.

It’s just that it was… confusing. His mind kept envisaging dark, erotic images, images that he was not comfortable with.

Lacey was hot. There wasn’t a single shred of doubt about that. A short, curvy blonde, with generous hips and glorious full, heavy breasts. And she had a personality every bit as big as her chest. Exuberant, funny, outgoing, willing to speak her mind. A very attractive, appealing woman.

Darnell was a lucky man.

And there was a time Braden would willingly have taken himself in hand, thinking of a woman like Lacey, imagining her naked, thinking of what he could to do her. What she could do to him.

And he still thought of her, he did. Of course he did, what red blooded man wouldn’t?

Except….

Except it wasn’t just visions of Lacey that filled his mind as he masturbated. More and more now, living under Darnell’s roof, his thoughts had turned in a different direction.

To Darnell himself. The way his broad shoulders tapered to his narrow waist. That tantalizing hint of crinkly body hair, that arrowed down across his six pack to the waistband of his tight jeans.

Christ, Darnell’s jeans. Showing off his tight, muscled ass. And the impressive package that lay, barely contained, behind his zip.

Braden gave up the fight. Eased his sweats down, and freed his cock. God, how could he be hard again? He hadn’t jerked off this much since puberty. He closed his hand around his straining cock. Closed his eyes and listened. Listened as Darnell pounded away at Lacey again. She was a screamer, as loud in bed as her big personality would predict.

Braden pounded his cock, in time to the screams. Matched his pace to Lacey, and when she screamed, that final, loudest, time, he grunted himself, and blasted one more load into a sodden tissue.

Christ.

Bright light flooded the room. Braden groaned, and turned his face to the back of the couch.

“Sorry,” Lacey said, not far from his ear.

Giving up on sleep, Braden untangled himself from the blanket and rolled to a sitting position.

Lacey didn’t sound sorry. And she didn’t look sorry, either.

What she looked like was an incredibly hot woman who had spent most of the night getting righteously, gloriously, railed.

Her hair was mussed, and her eyes held a sleepy, sated look. She was smiling, like the night had gone perfectly and the new day was going to be even better.

And she was wearing one of Darnell’s old tee shirts. She was clearly braless beneath it, her full breasts swaying, her nipples poking out against the material. The shirt hung down to just above mid thigh. Low enough so that if she weren’t moving, it would be perfectly decent.

Except she was moving. And when she bent over to snag a stray sock Darnell had left in haste the night before, it became blatantly obvious she wasn’t wearing panties, either.

She was facing away from Braden, and in that position the shirt rode up, and gave him a perfect view of her pussy between her thigh gap.

Her pussy was plump and clean shaven, and every bit as gorgeous as the rest of her.

Braden felt his poor abused cock stir back to life. He was actually sore from how much he had jerked it last night. Only after Darnell and Lacey had finally gone to sleep had he been able to tame his stubborn erection.

He bunched the blanket in his lap, and hoped Lacey wouldn’t notice.

She was walking through the passageway into the kitchen now, her generous hips swaying. Braden couldn’t help but stare at her ass, and felt himself get harder.

“You sleep okay?” she called out to him.

There was a bit of a smirk in her voice, like she knew exactly how well he had slept.

“Fine,” he answered. At least with her out of sight, he had a chance to get himself under control.

And then the bedroom door opened again. The slap of bare feet on hardwood floor, and then Darnell walked into the room.

Christ!

He wasn’t wearing a tee shirt. In fact, he wasn’t wearing a god damn thing. Braden saw his bare chest first, bunched muscle under dark, nearly ebony skin, and tried to keep his gaze from sliding lower.

He tried, he really did. He just couldn’t. So, it wasn’t the first time he’d caught a glimpse of Darnell’s junk. They were two dudes, crammed in a small one bedroom apartment.

But this was different. Darnell’s big black cock was right there, hanging right in front of him, swinging in the breeze.

And damn, it looked good! Big and beautiful, long and amazingly thick, a truly impressive piece of meat.

Braden hadn’t gone out of his way to look, but of course he had seen other guys cocks before. In locker rooms, in the shower at the gym. And he had never seen anything like Darnell’s cock.

No wonder he made Lacey scream like she did.

“Coffee’s on,” Lacey called from the kitchen. “You wanna cook, Braden?”

Braden got up. For the moment, at least, he was only semi hard, and his sweat pants were loose enough it wasn’t too obvious.

He didn’t mind cooking. He surely didn’t want to eat Lacey’s cooking, he’d made that mistake before.

He just wasn’t sure he wanted to be trapped in the kitchen with a nearly naked Lacey and a completely naked Darnell.

Nothing to be done. Not when Darnell was letting him crash rent free. You’re up, kid, he thought.

Lacey already had the eggs out sitting on the yellowed Formica counter. She was bending over, rummaging in the fridge, her perfect generous ass swaying right in front of him.

Darnell was staring at it, sipping a coffee, a big ass smile on his face.

Braden didn’t stare, but he did sneak a peak. Could hardly avoid it.

And his semi was getting a little less semi.

He had to brush past her, to get the frying pan. And the tented front of his sweats skimmed, just barely grazed, the tee shirt hugging Lacey’s ass. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, and it was all he could do not to grind his hard-on into those firm solid buttocks.

And Lacey moved, just fractionally, to intensify the contact as he slid past.

On purpose? He couldn’t be sure. It seemed a little too subtle for Lacey, but maybe, with Darnell sitting right there….