--- Corrections made with AI
------
George watched the amber liquid catch the bar light as he raised his glass, stealing another glance at Scott across the table. The man's work shirt strained against broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that had seen real labor. His colleagues were filtering out one by one—early meetings, babysitters, the usual suburban exodus—but Scott remained, nursing his beer with the unhurried pace of a man with nowhere urgent to be.
"Another round?" Pam asked, her hand finding George's thigh under the table. Her fingers traced small circles through his khakis, a gesture Scott couldn't see but George felt in his spine.
"I should probably head out," Scott said, though he made no move to leave. "Long day tomorrow."
"On a Friday?" Pam's laugh had that musical quality that appeared after her third drink. "Come on, Scott. When's the last time you just... relaxed?"
George knew the answer. Since the separation three months ago, Scott had been working overtime at the storage facility, throwing himself into the physical work like a man trying to exhaust something out of his system. George had watched him during their lunch meetings—the way Scott's hands moved when he talked, calloused fingers that could probably span George's wrist entirely.
"We've got a fire pit at home," George heard himself saying. "Pam makes these bourbon s'mores that'll ruin you for camping forever."
Scott's eyes moved between them, something careful in his expression. "I don't want to intrude on your evening."
"You wouldn't be intruding," Pam said, her voice dropping to that register George recognized. "Besides, you shouldn't be alone tonight. Not when you're..." She gestured vaguely at the empty chairs around their table.
"Sad and pathetic?" Scott's smile took the sting out of it.
"Recently separated," George corrected. "There's a difference."
The silence stretched until Scott drained his beer in one long pull. "Alright. But I need to hit the restroom first."
George stood too quickly. "Same."
The men's room was small, just two urinals side by side with no dividers. George positioned himself at the left one, hyperaware of Scott's presence as the bigger man stepped up beside him. The sound of their streams hitting porcelain seemed impossibly loud.
George finished first, but found himself lingering at the sink, stealing glances in the mirror. Scott was taking his time, one hand braced against the wall, the other... George's breath caught. Even soft, the man was impressive—not long like George, but thick enough that Scott needed his whole fist to aim properly.
It seemed like he was pee-shy...and maybe embarrased by George's length.
George was ashamed too. Not of looking—of wanting. Of the way his body was responding to the casual masculinity radiating off Scott. He mumbled something about meeting outside and escaped.
Twenty minutes later, they were arranged around the fire pit in George's backyard, the flames casting shifting shadows across their faces. Pam had changed into a sundress that rode up her thighs when she leaned forward to pass Scott another beer.
"Truth or dare," she announced, settling onto the bench beside Scott. Her hand found his shoulder, thumb tracing the curve of muscle through his flannel.
"Christ, what are we, sixteen?" But Scott was smiling, his legs spreading wider as Pam's touch registered.
"I vote strip poker," George said, surprising himself.
Scott laughed—a warm, rumbling sound. "Of course you do, you degenerate."
"Truth or dare," Pam insisted, her fingers still moving on Scott's shoulder. "Come on, Scott. When's the last time you did something just for fun?"
"Fine. Truth."
"How many women have you been with?"
Scott's beer paused halfway to his lips. "That's pretty personal."
"That's the point." Pam's voice had that husky quality that meant she was getting turned on. "Come on."
"Maybe... ten? Twelve?" Scott shrugged. "Not that many."
George didn't believe him for a second. Who wouldn't want this man's weight pressing them into mattress springs, wouldn't want to trace the map of scars on his knuckles with their tongue? Linger on his hairy pits...taking the scent of his pubes and balls?
"My turn," Scott said, his eyes finding George's across the fire. "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," Pam answered for him, laughing.
George's pulse kicked. "Dare."
Scott's smile went predatory. "Strip. Like you wanted."
The challenge hung in the air. George could feel both sets of eyes on him, Scott's curious, Pam's encouraging. Liquid courage burned in his veins as he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. The night air hit his chest, then his stomach as fabric pooled at his feet. His hands trembled only slightly as he worked his belt, then his pants.
When he stepped out of his underwear, half-hard despite his nerves, Scott's sharp intake of breath was audible.
"Damn, George. Didn't see that coming."
"My turn," George said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Pam—take off your underwear and throw it at me."
"Naughty boy," she purred, but she was already hiking up her dress. She made a show of sliding the lace down her legs, bending just so Scott got a perfect view of her ass. The underwear hit George in the face, carrying her scent.
Scott had gone very still, his beer forgotten. The bulge in his jeans was unmistakable now, and his legs had started that restless movement George had noticed at the bar.
"Your turn, Scott," Pam said softly. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth." His voice was rougher now.
"Have you ever had a threesome?"
The question hit like a physical thing. George watched Scott's throat work as he swallowed.
"No. Not yet."
The qualifier hung between them like smoke. George was getting hard, a drop of precum beading at the tip as he processed the implications.
"My turn," Scott said. "George—truth or dare?"
"Truth.", he said in case they were going too far with Scott.
"Have Pam and you ever been with a third person?"
They answered simultaneously. "Not yet," from George. "Only in my fantasies," from Pam, followed by nervous laughter.
Scott definitely was curious. He drank from his beer. His other hand casually resting over his crotch while his legs kept moving.
"I have a dare for my wife," George slurred. "Make your fantasy come true."
Pam stood without hesitation, dress already bunching in her fists as she headed for the sliding door. She paused at the threshold, silhouetted against the house lights, and let the fabric fall.
George rose too, his erection pointing toward the sky. Scott was staring, transfixed, until George's voice cut through his trance.
"Will you help me?"
Scott's eyes snapped to his, wide with something between shock and hunger.
George went in. Hoping Scott would follow. And he did. He stood slowly, as if testing whether his legs would hold him.
Inside, Pam was already spread across the couch, feeling her pussy. George dropped to his knees beside her, tongue finding her clit as Scott hovered uncertainly in the doorway.
"I didn't shower after work," Scott said.
"Good," she breathed, and George's cock twitched at the raw need in her voice.
Scott took off his boots and started opening the buttons of his plaid shirt. Zipper went down, he moved closer. Pam took over and grabbed his cock. Scott mumbled, "I didn't shower after work." He didn't know this was exactly what this couple wanted to hear. She started swallowing his cock and pulling his boxer shorts down. George was so turned on watching this from below. It made sense that someone like Scott would wear regular boxer briefs. His ass was not big but it looked hard. Hairy legs. Of course he wasn't tanned. Shirt came off. Yes, he was definitely shirtless very often. Scott's jeans and underwear were at his feet. George was helpful and helped him take them off. Scott was surprised by this, especially when George took his socks off. He was obviously self-conscious about his smell, but George was so turned on by it. Scott didn't reek — he smelled like a man. He was all man. George resumed licking his wife's pussy, but one of his hands was so close to Scott's feet; he enjoyed that his arm was right next to Scott's hairy thick legs.
"Put it in," Pam said to Scott. Scott looked down at George. "Go on," he mouthed. Scott's horny smile made George smile too — he shifted to give him some room, but didn't stand up. Scott slowly pushed his cock inside Pam's wet pussy. She gasped. She started shivering almost immediately. Yes, Scott was thicker than George — fuller, deeper. What a new feeling. And his hands... they felt incredible against her soft skin, rough and certain in a way that made her breath catch. He was now flicking his tongue against one of her nipples while pumping into her with a steady, unhurried rhythm.
Pam shifted to the end of the sofa. Enough room now. George crawled over and resumed licking her pussy — and Scott's shaft. That made Scott pause for a second. He looked down at both of them, saw how turned on they were, how into it, and kept going. He even kept going when George's tongue drifted to his balls and lingered at his taint. That was new. Scott started to shiver. He clenched his ass automatically, which made George smile. Of course Scott wouldn't go further than that — not yet. George moved up beside Pam and started kissing her while jerking himself off, enjoying the view, enjoying the sight of Scott still pumping into her wet pussy.
"I may cum soon," Scott said.
Pam stood up and started kissing Scott, her hands moving across his skin — his shoulders, his hairy chest. George stepped behind her and slipped two fingers inside her with his right hand. His left hand landed on Scott's shoulder. Scott didn't even notice. He was too busy enjoying the way Pam was exploring his body, the way she touched him like she couldn't get enough. He was loving all of it — including the extra hand that had found his ass and was grabbing it with real hunger.
The three of them were wound up tight. George's face was right next to his wife's, close enough to catch Scott's scent on her skin. Scott was getting close. Pam shifted just slightly to her right, still kissing him, still stroking him, but opening just enough space for George's cock to come level with his. Then she went down and took both of them into her mouth at once, their cocks touching inside the wet heat of her lips.
That was beyond anything George had ever imagined. He came instantly, his seed coating Pam's tongue and Scott's shaft.
Scott blinked, caught off guard. Pam pulled back and used her husband's cum to stroke Scott — rubbing it slowly up his shaft and down to his balls. That was it for Scott. He came hard, right on her face, his full weight leaning back against George's chest. His legs were shaking.
"Sit down, boys," she said.
They obeyed. Two sweaty bodies sinking into the sofa next to each other. Smiling. Scott reached over and gave George's thigh a solid pat — easy, natural. That was the jock in him.
Pam looked at them both and smiled. "I'm gonna get something so you can clean up... relax a little... and recharge for round two."
------
George watched the amber liquid catch the bar light as he raised his glass, stealing another glance at Scott across the table. The man's work shirt strained against broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that had seen real labor. His colleagues were filtering out one by one—early meetings, babysitters, the usual suburban exodus—but Scott remained, nursing his beer with the unhurried pace of a man with nowhere urgent to be.
"Another round?" Pam asked, her hand finding George's thigh under the table. Her fingers traced small circles through his khakis, a gesture Scott couldn't see but George felt in his spine.
"I should probably head out," Scott said, though he made no move to leave. "Long day tomorrow."
"On a Friday?" Pam's laugh had that musical quality that appeared after her third drink. "Come on, Scott. When's the last time you just... relaxed?"
George knew the answer. Since the separation three months ago, Scott had been working overtime at the storage facility, throwing himself into the physical work like a man trying to exhaust something out of his system. George had watched him during their lunch meetings—the way Scott's hands moved when he talked, calloused fingers that could probably span George's wrist entirely.
"We've got a fire pit at home," George heard himself saying. "Pam makes these bourbon s'mores that'll ruin you for camping forever."
Scott's eyes moved between them, something careful in his expression. "I don't want to intrude on your evening."
"You wouldn't be intruding," Pam said, her voice dropping to that register George recognized. "Besides, you shouldn't be alone tonight. Not when you're..." She gestured vaguely at the empty chairs around their table.
"Sad and pathetic?" Scott's smile took the sting out of it.
"Recently separated," George corrected. "There's a difference."
The silence stretched until Scott drained his beer in one long pull. "Alright. But I need to hit the restroom first."
George stood too quickly. "Same."
The men's room was small, just two urinals side by side with no dividers. George positioned himself at the left one, hyperaware of Scott's presence as the bigger man stepped up beside him. The sound of their streams hitting porcelain seemed impossibly loud.
George finished first, but found himself lingering at the sink, stealing glances in the mirror. Scott was taking his time, one hand braced against the wall, the other... George's breath caught. Even soft, the man was impressive—not long like George, but thick enough that Scott needed his whole fist to aim properly.
It seemed like he was pee-shy...and maybe embarrased by George's length.
George was ashamed too. Not of looking—of wanting. Of the way his body was responding to the casual masculinity radiating off Scott. He mumbled something about meeting outside and escaped.
Twenty minutes later, they were arranged around the fire pit in George's backyard, the flames casting shifting shadows across their faces. Pam had changed into a sundress that rode up her thighs when she leaned forward to pass Scott another beer.
"Truth or dare," she announced, settling onto the bench beside Scott. Her hand found his shoulder, thumb tracing the curve of muscle through his flannel.
"Christ, what are we, sixteen?" But Scott was smiling, his legs spreading wider as Pam's touch registered.
"I vote strip poker," George said, surprising himself.
Scott laughed—a warm, rumbling sound. "Of course you do, you degenerate."
"Truth or dare," Pam insisted, her fingers still moving on Scott's shoulder. "Come on, Scott. When's the last time you did something just for fun?"
"Fine. Truth."
"How many women have you been with?"
Scott's beer paused halfway to his lips. "That's pretty personal."
"That's the point." Pam's voice had that husky quality that meant she was getting turned on. "Come on."
"Maybe... ten? Twelve?" Scott shrugged. "Not that many."
George didn't believe him for a second. Who wouldn't want this man's weight pressing them into mattress springs, wouldn't want to trace the map of scars on his knuckles with their tongue? Linger on his hairy pits...taking the scent of his pubes and balls?
"My turn," Scott said, his eyes finding George's across the fire. "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," Pam answered for him, laughing.
George's pulse kicked. "Dare."
Scott's smile went predatory. "Strip. Like you wanted."
The challenge hung in the air. George could feel both sets of eyes on him, Scott's curious, Pam's encouraging. Liquid courage burned in his veins as he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. The night air hit his chest, then his stomach as fabric pooled at his feet. His hands trembled only slightly as he worked his belt, then his pants.
When he stepped out of his underwear, half-hard despite his nerves, Scott's sharp intake of breath was audible.
"Damn, George. Didn't see that coming."
"My turn," George said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Pam—take off your underwear and throw it at me."
"Naughty boy," she purred, but she was already hiking up her dress. She made a show of sliding the lace down her legs, bending just so Scott got a perfect view of her ass. The underwear hit George in the face, carrying her scent.
Scott had gone very still, his beer forgotten. The bulge in his jeans was unmistakable now, and his legs had started that restless movement George had noticed at the bar.
"Your turn, Scott," Pam said softly. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth." His voice was rougher now.
"Have you ever had a threesome?"
The question hit like a physical thing. George watched Scott's throat work as he swallowed.
"No. Not yet."
The qualifier hung between them like smoke. George was getting hard, a drop of precum beading at the tip as he processed the implications.
"My turn," Scott said. "George—truth or dare?"
"Truth.", he said in case they were going too far with Scott.
"Have Pam and you ever been with a third person?"
They answered simultaneously. "Not yet," from George. "Only in my fantasies," from Pam, followed by nervous laughter.
Scott definitely was curious. He drank from his beer. His other hand casually resting over his crotch while his legs kept moving.
"I have a dare for my wife," George slurred. "Make your fantasy come true."
Pam stood without hesitation, dress already bunching in her fists as she headed for the sliding door. She paused at the threshold, silhouetted against the house lights, and let the fabric fall.
George rose too, his erection pointing toward the sky. Scott was staring, transfixed, until George's voice cut through his trance.
"Will you help me?"
Scott's eyes snapped to his, wide with something between shock and hunger.
George went in. Hoping Scott would follow. And he did. He stood slowly, as if testing whether his legs would hold him.
Inside, Pam was already spread across the couch, feeling her pussy. George dropped to his knees beside her, tongue finding her clit as Scott hovered uncertainly in the doorway.
"I didn't shower after work," Scott said.
"Good," she breathed, and George's cock twitched at the raw need in her voice.
Scott took off his boots and started opening the buttons of his plaid shirt. Zipper went down, he moved closer. Pam took over and grabbed his cock. Scott mumbled, "I didn't shower after work." He didn't know this was exactly what this couple wanted to hear. She started swallowing his cock and pulling his boxer shorts down. George was so turned on watching this from below. It made sense that someone like Scott would wear regular boxer briefs. His ass was not big but it looked hard. Hairy legs. Of course he wasn't tanned. Shirt came off. Yes, he was definitely shirtless very often. Scott's jeans and underwear were at his feet. George was helpful and helped him take them off. Scott was surprised by this, especially when George took his socks off. He was obviously self-conscious about his smell, but George was so turned on by it. Scott didn't reek — he smelled like a man. He was all man. George resumed licking his wife's pussy, but one of his hands was so close to Scott's feet; he enjoyed that his arm was right next to Scott's hairy thick legs.
"Put it in," Pam said to Scott. Scott looked down at George. "Go on," he mouthed. Scott's horny smile made George smile too — he shifted to give him some room, but didn't stand up. Scott slowly pushed his cock inside Pam's wet pussy. She gasped. She started shivering almost immediately. Yes, Scott was thicker than George — fuller, deeper. What a new feeling. And his hands... they felt incredible against her soft skin, rough and certain in a way that made her breath catch. He was now flicking his tongue against one of her nipples while pumping into her with a steady, unhurried rhythm.
Pam shifted to the end of the sofa. Enough room now. George crawled over and resumed licking her pussy — and Scott's shaft. That made Scott pause for a second. He looked down at both of them, saw how turned on they were, how into it, and kept going. He even kept going when George's tongue drifted to his balls and lingered at his taint. That was new. Scott started to shiver. He clenched his ass automatically, which made George smile. Of course Scott wouldn't go further than that — not yet. George moved up beside Pam and started kissing her while jerking himself off, enjoying the view, enjoying the sight of Scott still pumping into her wet pussy.
"I may cum soon," Scott said.
Pam stood up and started kissing Scott, her hands moving across his skin — his shoulders, his hairy chest. George stepped behind her and slipped two fingers inside her with his right hand. His left hand landed on Scott's shoulder. Scott didn't even notice. He was too busy enjoying the way Pam was exploring his body, the way she touched him like she couldn't get enough. He was loving all of it — including the extra hand that had found his ass and was grabbing it with real hunger.
The three of them were wound up tight. George's face was right next to his wife's, close enough to catch Scott's scent on her skin. Scott was getting close. Pam shifted just slightly to her right, still kissing him, still stroking him, but opening just enough space for George's cock to come level with his. Then she went down and took both of them into her mouth at once, their cocks touching inside the wet heat of her lips.
That was beyond anything George had ever imagined. He came instantly, his seed coating Pam's tongue and Scott's shaft.
Scott blinked, caught off guard. Pam pulled back and used her husband's cum to stroke Scott — rubbing it slowly up his shaft and down to his balls. That was it for Scott. He came hard, right on her face, his full weight leaning back against George's chest. His legs were shaking.
"Sit down, boys," she said.
They obeyed. Two sweaty bodies sinking into the sofa next to each other. Smiling. Scott reached over and gave George's thigh a solid pat — easy, natural. That was the jock in him.
Pam looked at them both and smiled. "I'm gonna get something so you can clean up... relax a little... and recharge for round two."
