Augmentations 7
by AKA
The fact that the three of us were already naked was actually a bit of a disappointment for me. I enjoyed that facet of any seduction - the anticipation, the expectation, the hope and desire - perhaps more than the sexual acts themselves. Flirting, hinting, eye contact across the room, his hands moving across his own body, that sense that he finds himself attractive and he knows I do too. The promise of carnal knowledge, without the knowledge itself. And now we were already there, and already naked.
I’m sure that feeling came through in the bond, but if so, perhaps my initial companion’s excitement at the prospect of what was about to occur was too strong to feel it.
I could certainly feel him, and that sensation was a bit odd. I could feel him. Feel his emotions and whatever else was happening mentally with him, though not his actual thoughts. And what was oddest to me was that I could discern his emotions from my own, even when they were of the same family. My desire and his desire. My lust and his lust. My curiosity and his. Similar - but different.
Perhaps this is what happens to everyone. Perhaps this was what love is. Feeling someone else, knowing them so intimately, sharing everything - but maintaining your own sense of being. I doubt that it was supposed to work like this, given what he had told me some hours previous in the restaurant where we met.
That seemed so long ago, now. Was it really only hours?
I wondered what the Level 5 had planned for the three of us, and whether I could even keep up with the two of them. I had not been augmented. I had no amplified abilities or attributes. I was merely human, and standing now with these two godlike beings, it was both intimidating and a bit...deflating. Looking at either of them was a sensual and sexual feast in itself. Just the...potential...of what they were capable of. The prospect of being with them, and the promise of everything that either of them, alone, could accomplish made my heart race at the same time that my cock started to feel a bit...overwhelmed.
“Kiss him,” my companion told the largest man in the room, but looking at me. “He needs to be kissed.”
“Does he?” The Level 5 looked at me with lust and pride and an eagerness to please. “He did seem to enjoy it rather considerably.” He glanced at his partner in crime. “Perhaps we should both kiss him.”
“Oh, I was planning on using my mouth, don’t you worry about that,” the Level 4 said, and he slipped from beneath his friend’s arm and sank to his knees, taking my cock in his gentle hand and sucking me between his warm, wet lips.
God, it felt good. His lips and tongue were ardent in their dedication to the task. He swallowed me easily, slipping my cock inside his talented mouth and practically pulling the cream from my balls.
Then the larger god came around and cupped my chin his his warm hand and bent his mouth to mine and kissed me, in that way that he could, and sent a sudden jolt of sex into my body and made my cock spring into action. The man sucking my joint was rewarded with a gush of cream, and he sucked and swallowed with evident joy.
Was this all they wanted? Not that I was in a complaining mood, of course, but it felt a bit like they were still all about me. I couldn’t speak while the Level 5 was working his lip-based magic, and I could hardly think, what with the professional-level blow-job I was receiving below. My head was spinning, my heart was racing, my cock was streaming and everything was right with the world.
But this was not what I wanted.
And the moment - the instant - that thought popped into my head, even jumbled up with the intense pleasure that was overwhelming me, the kiss ended. His touch fell away. I came my last few pumps and the man with his mouth on my prick sucked me clean and then they were looking at me, with expressions of wonder on their handsome faces.
The larger one looked at his friend and said, “Interesting.”
The other man nodded. “As I said, he’s a fairly unusual man.”
“Whuh... what? What happened?”
“I need my jacket,” the Level 5 said, and he strode back towards where his grey chalk-stripe suit was lying. He lifted the jacket into his hands and felt inside the breast pocket, extracting a small black leather zippered pouch. Turning, he unzipped and opened it, extracting something small and shiny, and something else that looked like a handkerchief. He looked at me and asked, “Do you trust me?”
The idea that either of them would do anything I didn’t want had not really entered my head, even though I had instructed the opposite. It just was unheard of, it never - ever - happened. Trust him? What the fuck was going to happen? What idea had I planted in his augmented and amplified brain? “Yes,” I said.
He smiled. God, I wanted to melt. I felt something like love traveling through the bond with the Level 4. He rose from his knees - I noticed that his own cock was still rock-hard and throbbing - and he was smiling, too. They were both so beautiful. Handsome and beautiful. I could smell them both, each had his own unique scent, but together it was an overwhelming masculine musk that was funky and sexy and inherently male.
The larger one said, “I have two gifts for you. You’ll need them for my - our,” he amended, nodding at his compatriot, “plans this evening.” He looked me up and down, and I suddenly felt very naked under his penetrating dark gaze. “I trust you’re not shy or inhibited.”
“Only around you two,” I joked.
He smiled. He got it. He held up a small silver vial, or bottle, with a screw cap. It was about the size of my pinky, but half as tall. “This is for later.” He placed it in my hand. It was cold, and slightly heavier than I anticipated.
“Is it a drug?”
“It’s... an enhancer.”
“Like an amplifier?”
He nodded. “But temporary. Standard issue. You’ll find it very helpful.” Then he held up his other hand and the handkerchief I thought he was holding dropped from his palm as he held the edge in his fingertips. “And this is for now.”
I took it, and realized it was a very light, very sheer, very small pair of underwear. It was little more than a pouch and two thin straps. It was made of something like silk, only thinner even than that - thin enough that whatever it held would be easily discerned. “Why do I need...?”
“It’s a...personal trinket. I ask only those I favor to wear it.”
I unfurled it, finding it little more than a trifle of delicate cloth and spaghetti straps to hold it on. “There isn’t much to it,” I remarked, finding it a bit feminine for my taste.
“There doesn’t need to be. But you’ll need to dress, and I was hoping you’d indulge me by wearing this underneath. I think you’ll find it stimulating.”
Looking at the two of them, the large, beautiful, naked men in my home, I was already over-stimulated, but I did tell him to do what he wanted - and I did agree to the terms of the verbal contract between us. Perhaps he had a fetish that I could indulge. But I did ask, “Why do I need to get dressed?”
“Do you have a public nudity license?” I shook my head as my brow furrowed in curiosity. “And why should you? But without it, you’ll need some clothing. My friend and I will not.”
“Where are we going?”
His smile was positively lecherous. “Out.”
I started to pull the very, very skimpy pair of underwear up my legs, but the two men both stopped me. The Level 4, still sporting his raging hard-on, said, “Allow me, please?”
Then he was on his knees again and slowly moving the garment up my legs. His touch felt amazing. He was caressing more than dressing me, and I suppose with anything that minuscule, ‘dressing’ was an inappropriate term anyway. He slipped the two spaghetti straps over my hips and the third found its way into the crack of my ass. They seemed almost to disappear against my skin, and then he was fondling my cock and balls, and spending probably too much time and attention on getting me arranged just so inside the tight, elastic pouch. He adjusted, petted, stroked and squeezed me with utter lust, as if enraptured or in worship of my equipment. Needless to say, it felt very good.
Once ‘covered,’ the sensation was very like being totally naked. The material clung to my contours to the extent that even the veins on the shaft of my eager prick could be seen. My sword was sheathed, but only in the loosest possible terms. And, as promised, it did feel very nice against my skin. Maybe it was something they wore themselves, though I couldn’t see its purpose given their proclivity for dropping trou with only the slightest provocation.
“Excellent,” the Level 5 said. Then he moved his touch against the pouch to get in his own sample of my goods, stroking, petting, rubbing and squeezing as I started to plump and swell. The material stretched accordingly, and I realized that it would cling to me no matter how excited I became, and I watched myself growing hard and long as the flesh-colored garment wrapped me in its silken warmth. He tilted his head as he gazed upon my happy cock and balls and added, “You look good in them.”
“I may never take them off,” I said, because they felt at least as good as they looked, caressing me now with their silken softness.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he advised. “The transport outside - is it yours?”
“Yes,” I verified.
“Any travel restraints?”
“Unlimited within the city and county. 24-hours notice for travel within the state, and 48-hours outside. 300 miles before refueling.” Some transports were not allowed on the highway systems, and some were required to carry a certain number of passengers or a weight differential to economize fuel consumption. I did not mention these as there were three of us, and I knew that the two of them alone would more than compensate for any weight requirements. “Are we going far?”
He did not answer, and instead he placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me towards the bedroom, and then into the dressing area beyond.
I would not say that I was a clotheshorse, but I did enjoy having a large variety of options to choose from. I find a daily uniform - whether that’s a suit or a pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt - worn day in and day out to be frightfully tedious. As I entered with him, the room lit itself and the closet doors slid aside. “May I?” he asked.
“If you wish,” I answered, placing myself in his hands.
He stepped forward and I felt the heat of the other man’s body behind me, and then the Level 4 was wrapping me in his strong arms, and moving his deft touch down my belly, digging his fingertips into my public bush and then caressing me again inside the silken garment. God, it felt good. Almost better than being naked. I swooned back against his chest and he kissed my neck, breathing warmth across my skin.
The Level 5 turned around - almost a shame, really, considering that ass of his, but the view from the front was no less spectacular as my cock was being petted and played with by the other companion - and held up a dove-grey cotton dress shirt and my navy blue Prada, well tailored and very chic, if a tad conservative. A matching dark tie in a subtle stripe was over his massive shoulder. “May I dress you?” he asked.
The Level 4 sighed and I felt a twinge of disappointment and even sadness in the bond. He didn’t want me covered up, he wanted unfettered access to everything. But I nodded and 4 let me from his embrace as 5 removed the clothing from the hangers and set about dressing me like the most handsome and muscular valet on the planet.
Again, even this simple and rather straightforward activity seemed a seduction of sorts. His hands were everywhere, and he was copping a feel of every crack and crevasse as he pulled the pants up and buttoned the shirt, taking special pleasure in tucking it in. Then he put shoes on my feet and I was ready for whatever was going to happen next.
Neither of them put on a stitch of clothing, and suddenly the situation - me, covered and dressed like a banker on his way to the office, and them, naked and vulnerable - had my cock twitching. Just this simple difference between us, even though they outweighed, outsized and out-muscled me in every possible dimension, placed me in a power position. I felt a surge of dominance, which had been entirely missing when we were all naked. I could not possibly compete with either of them on any physical level, but now that we were a tableau of two naked men and their handler, I felt not only their equal, but their superior.
“Perfect,” 5 said, folding his meaty arms across his massive chest and examining his handiwork.
I adjusted my cuffs and collar and put on my best game face. “Am I presentable?”
“You’re fucking flawless,” 5 said. The unusual use of an off-color word made my cock twitch, particularly coming from that deep, powerful voice. He stepped around me and pulled my trusty wool gabardine Burberry trench coat out and held it up for me. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and he came around to tie me inside. “I think we’re ready.” He looked at 4 and said, “You’re a bit of a challenge.”
I asked, “Why’s that?”
“Well, he’s not going to fit into his old clothes, is he?”
“And who tore themselves out of their shirt?” He started to object, but I held up my finger. “Not to worry. I know it will come as something of a shock, but this isn’t the first time strange men have come into my home only to have nothing to wear on their way out.” I cocked my head, observing, “But you’re both licensed for public nudity, right?”
5 nodded. “Clothing, in this case, isn’t optional.” I started to ask why, and he mirrored my finger gesture. “Best not to ask too many questions and spoil the surprise. You have clothes for us?”
I eyed them and said, “I’m not sure they’ll fit very well. My usual partners are a bit less....”
“Augmented?”
“Impressive.” He smiled. “But lets’s see what we have.”
We stepped outside, into the pouring rain. It was an awesome and terrible storm, the type which seemed to be cropping up with increasing frequency. The trees bent under the howling wind, and water poured down in sheets rather than drops.
The Level 4 stopped in the drive and looked up, holding his arms outstretched and turning his face toward the heavens. Water drenched his skin, and the lightning flashed as if he were causing it to happen. “He loves this,” I said, feeling that sensation through the bond. He was wearing a red cotton hoodie, currently unzipped and flapping in the wind, and the tightest pair of jeans the world had ever seen. Frankly, I have no idea how he managed to squeeze into them.
The Level 5 rumbled a laugh, rich and warm. “Why did you choose him?”
“A friend recommended him, said he was the best.” Then I looked at the Level 5, and added, grudgingly, “and he was the most I was willing to afford.” I looked back at the other man, standing fearlessly in the tempest, and added, “He’s not at all what I was expecting.” Then, his body, his beauty, all hit me, and I said, “He’s so much more than that.”
The large man looked at me and said, “You gave him a gift. That’s very rare.” 5 was wearing his suit, and a black v-neck t-shirt that tried its damnedest to camouflage his muscles. The color matched his dark gaze and jet hair, though he did look a bit like a bodyguard.
“Did I?” That was not my intention, but I supposed it was true. “I think he gave me something as well.”
5 seemed to consider my answer, then he looked into the sky and said, “We had better be leaving. It’s only one night, you know. And then it’s over.”
I sighed. “Yes,” I agreed. “Then it’s over.”
We strode together from the canopy of the entryway of my home toward the vehicle. I grabbed the Level 4 by the hand and pulled him with us - he seemed reticent to leave the storm’s fury behind. The doors of my car opened as I approached, and the Level 5 bent his tall frame down and examined the interior as the rain pelted his back. When his handsome face regarded mine, he looked a bit concerned.
“It’s a bit small,” he remarked, speaking loud to have his deep voice rise above the storm’s din. “I doubt it’ll accommodate us all.” He cupped the bulge of his mighty groin into his hand, indicating his true meaning. A joke? That seemed... uncharacteristic.
But it was a fair concern. City vehicles weren’t designed for large groups - or large people. Fuel economy, parking spaces, road maintenance - everything benefitted from these smaller vehicles. Except when one was trying to convey two very (very) large specimens of perfect masculinity around.
5 climbed into the rear seat. 4 was at the other door and climbing into the front seat adjacent to my own - occupying the same seats in which we had arrived. I recalled his manipulations of me, his constant desire to fondle and please me, and my cock pulsed a sudden sexual throb of desire.
As I sat down, I remembered meeting the man next to me, and how he affected me, and then considered how he affected me now. It was different, more intimate and personal. Had it really only been a few short hours since I met him?
As the car pulled away from my house, it took barely a minute before 4’s strong hand found its way to my inner thigh, and he was caressing my leg with an almost tentative touch, as if seeking my release to go further. Feeling my position of superiority, I elected not to acknowledge him, and I felt a surge of excitement in the bond. This was what he wanted. The flirting, the exploratory touch, the nature of a first meeting all over again.
His hand moved up my thigh. He brushed my balls, then withdrew. Certainly, to outward appearances, this act was ludicrous. The man was nearly naked from the waist up, his skin wet with rain and shiny. His cock was a prominent tube stretching along his thigh, and the bulge of his loins was indecent bordering on obscene. He was overtly sexual and lustful, but I was enjoying the play as much as the other player. Then I heard the deep, masculine tones of the other passenger, who said, “I hope you two are not doing anything untoward.”
Something dirty. Something obscene. Salacious and explicit. “I am not doing anything,” 4 said, as his hand moved fully onto the bulge of my manhood, and he squeezed meaningfully.
“Good,” 5 said. “because I’m watching you two.”
Disapproval. Disdain. God, it felt good to be naughty. I tried to adjust my position without allowing the man in back to see it. 4’s left hand was struggling with my zipper, wanting entrance inside my pants. Should I help him? Would the other man see?
I decided not to. I decided he should work for the goods inside. How much did he want me? How far was he willing to go?
4 said, “We’re not doing anything.”
“I trust you,” 5 answered, “it’s the other one who worries me.”
I kept silent as the hand at my crotch worked its way inside my pants. Then there was the warmth of his palm resting against my cock. Unmoving, a pause in the action, first base accomplished, and waiting for the opening to steal second.
He squeezed me, gently, his gaze focused through the windshield as if this were our little secret. I could feel his thumb on the head of my prick. Rubbing ever so gently. I bit my bottom lip to stop the moan that was rising in my throat. “It’s not far,” 5 said. “We should be there soon.”
No time! There was no time! 4 had to get his move on or... his thumb hooked the top of the delicate pouch that held my goods inside. He struggled to push it down, to release me from my silken cage. He meant to pull my cock out of my pants - and then what? Wouldn’t 5 see? Wouldn’t he know?
I swallowed hard. God, I loved this. I truly did. The secret acts. The fear of being discovered. Being disobedient and defiant, seeking pleasure where it was denied. I was growing erect, swelling larger against his hand. That would make it harder for him to extract me. But the thought of it - the added danger - only made it surge faster. He petted my monster to calm me, but it didn’t work. I was growing too large, too thick. He had to act fast.
He cast a quick glance my way, a sort of pleading look. He wanted it, badly. He wanted my help, but I was unwilling to give it. I was the prize. If he wanted it, he had to work for it. We rounded a turn and the car shifted and he used the opportunity to push his hand in and tug at my hard-on. The skin caught on the zipper and a twinge of pain accompanied the feeling of accomplishment as it sprang into view. He squeezed me hard and rubbed his thumb across the piss slit and I sat up and sucked in a breath.
5 asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No,” 4 answered for me, “nothing is wrong. Nothing at all. We’re both fine.”
5 seemed to growl his discontent. It made my cock throb and my balls tingle. I looked at 4 and he licked his lips, and I knew. He wanted to suck me. He wanted to bend down in his seat and put his mouth around my hard cock and somehow - without 5 finding out - he wanted to suck me off.
My vehicle said, “Three minutes to destination.”
Not enough time! Not enough! It was dark in the car, but the dashboard illumination and the street lighting - it would be clear if he went down on me. So I said, and I couldn’t believe I said it, but desperate times and so forth. I said, “Lay your head on my lap. You look tired.”
5 actually laughed. I could hear his smile in the deep rumble. Oh, he was enjoying this as much as we were.
“Well,” 4 said, “I am kind of tired.”
“It’s been a long night,” I agreed, with a fatherly tone. “Rest for a few minutes.”
4 looked back at 5 with a mischievous glance. He laid his head on my thighs with my cock hot and throbbing against his face, sticking out his tongue and licking its hard, shiny surface. “This is nice,” he said.
“It is,” I agreed. “Very nice.”
He kissed me, and licked me, and put his lips against my cock and sucked me. It wasn’t a blow job by conventional definition, but I was getting off on it. It was crude and immature and playful and wicked. We were small boys getting away with it. I fucking loved it.
“We are arriving at your destination,” the car said. 4 sat up, pretending weariness, and I started trying to push myself back inside my pants when a hand pushed between our seats and grabbed me hard. “What is this?” 5 demanded, squeezing my hardness in his mighty grip.
“Nothing,” I said, lying.
“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” 5 stated, roughly, as he stroked my erection with expert finesse. “It feels like a hard cock that needs sucking.”
It was 4’s turn to laugh. “That was my intention,” he said, looking backwards, “but someone was making it very difficult.”
5 asked, “Did you enjoy your dress rehearsal?”
I looked down at his large hand on my happy cock. “Very much so.”
He squeezed me. “Good, because now it’s time to take the stage.”
I looked out the window, and recognized immediately where we were. It was the lounge where I had met the 4, or the 3 at the time. One of my favorites, because it had a very attractive staff as well as a rather liberal attitude concerning its patron’s desires and actions, though in a somewhat discrete fashion.
There were, of course, myriad bars around the city where anything goes. Hell, getting a drink was secondary from the bartenders because they were often too busy getting or receiving blowjobs, or plugging the holes of their patrons with their usually ample cocks, or any number of other activities that had little to do with standing behind a bar, looking pretty. It was all too common, now, for these places that used to be so relaxing and friendly to turn into veritable sex buffets, because that’s where the real money was. You could walk into any store and buy a bottle of booze - not so, or at least not yet, for sex. It was still something to go out for, to to get delivered.
I found it both interesting and telling that he - or they? - had decided to start the evening here. Was this for my benefit, again? Or did they have some other surprises in mind?
There was a reason I chose this place to rendezvous with an intimate associate, and I suspected that there was a reason we had found our way back here. “Is somebody thirsty?”
4 said, “It was my suggestion. I had a good time here with you, if you recall.”
“I do,” I said, remembering his naked body at my table, his cock throbbing at my mouth, awaiting my instruction. Perhaps the two had discussed the meeting while they were alone in my bedroom.
“I wanted - I needed - to go somewhere with people,” the 5 explained. “I don’t mean to suggest that this wasn’t fun, but I was built for... more.”
The way he said it - more - was so suggestive and loaded with eroticism that I nearly came all over again. The word sank into my ears and suggested images of more everything, in copious and endless amounts, more cock, more sex, more skin, more men. The man was insatiable, literally. Alone, I couldn’t satisfy him. And that, alone, excited me greatly. An overwhelming male sexuality only slightly caged and ready, even now, to erupt with all his restrained volcanic fury. I had only seen a whisper of his power.
And I knew the Level 4 was as anxious as I was to jump into the depthless ocean of his passion, desire, lust and physical capabilities. Perhaps he already knew what to expect, and what the other companion’s skills and limits were. I could feel, again, my beautiful man’s excitement, arousal and anticipation.
How could one man - any man, no matter how augmented and amplified - hope to take on so many others at once? He only had one cock, one mouth, one ass. What was he planning on inside this public establishment? I had released him from control, mine or anyone’s. He could do what he wished to, whatever pleased him, and that would please me.
I could hardly wait to find out.
We exited the vehicle and it scurried itself off to find somewhere to park, wishing me a good evening before it closed its doors and hummed away. I like a polite car, don’t you? The man at the door recognized me - I was what you might call a regular - but his gaze were only on my face for a moment before the two other gentlemen in my company caught his eye.
He was, it must be said, a handsome man. Everyone here was handsome. But he served both as the entry filter and a sort of advertisement, did he not? Would you, passing by door after door, prefer to stop at a place with someone out front who looked, shall we say, less than presentable, or would you, as any other normal person, not prefer to have something nice to look at while sipping your cocktail?
He was already standing, but his stature seemed to grow slightly more erect as we approached. Taller than me, and better built, too, but he was no match for the companions following behind me like pets on leash. “Good evening,” I said.
His eyes were flickering between 4 and 5, like a small boy trying to decide between favored toys. “Good evening, sir,” he said, “nice to see you again.” Though he wasn’t seeing me at all.
“Lively crowd tonight?” I asked.
He finally looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, astonishment or excitement that registered on his features. “I... uh....”
5 spoke up. His voice, that deeply-registered earth movement with musical overtones, sounded even sexier, as if he was already working his magic on this poor man’s libido. “Do you mind,” he asked me, “if I try loosening his tongue?”
Curiously, I answered, “Please.”
He moved forward and kissed the man’s mouth. Having had this same greeting, I knew what to expect even if the bouncer did not. I watched with amused envy as his body shook with the orgasmic release that I had enjoyed, and the man’s eyes went very wide and then shut very tightly as he was delivered from earth to heaven in the space of one kiss. I glanced down at his crotch and saw that he was gifted with a rather impressive piece down there, pressing insistently against his pants as it spewed forth a copious load, staining the material with a spreading dark patch.
4 said, “You really need to teach me that trick.”
5 pulled his mouth from the bouncers and said, without turning, in a low growl, “Not a trick so much as a talent.” Then he said, “I trust you enjoyed that as much as I did. When do you get off.”
Luckily, no one had the temerity to suggest that he just did, though we all had to be thinking it. He said, “T... Two.”
5 said, “I’m not sure we’ll still be here, but I hope you’ll join us later.” He kissed him again, lightly, and without, I presumed, the benefit of his other talent. Then he moved to the door and held it open for the other two of us, and we all went inside.
The place was not packed, though it was more lively than when I had been here earlier. The clientele was diverse - something else I found refreshing and stimulating - with men and women intermingling in various collections of preferred partner. Some were undoubtedly married, though perhaps not to each other, and others were prowling for a one-night stand. No one here was searching for true love. True love wasn’t found in bars, at least not as a rule. The lights were dim, the atmosphere was cool, and the music was soft.
“I have a table reserved,” 5 said. Of course he did. How or when he had done so, I had no idea. Perhaps when 4 and I were performing our little drama in the front seat, he had been quietly busy with his phone. We walked through the lounge and all eyes regarded us with curiosity and, no doubt, desire. Even if I was not the object of that desire, given the competition’s advantages, I was enjoying the attention and the heat, as well as the curiosity. Who has I, they had to be thinking, to be in the company of these men?
I must admit that I enjoy being envied, no matter the reason. I’m sure the men with me enjoyed it, too, assuming they knew what it was. Perhaps being eternally envied mitigates the enjoyment? Who would not envy them their beauty and power and sexual attraction? They were magnetic, though most of the clientele attempted to elicit an attitude of detachment, watching our movements with lowered eyes rather than outright gawking.
5 pulled out my chair for me, and 4 sat next to me as the larger man asked, “May I get you something to drink, sir?” I raised my eyebrow at the title, and he smiled. “As sir wishes,” he said, as if he knew my desires without answer. I looked at 4, who was grinning madly, though his beautiful features tried hard to look calm. The game was beginning, and we had assumed our roles.
Whatever happened now, I was no longer in charge.
5 turned and strode toward the bar, and I watched his ass move as he walked. Jesus, that man’s ass! Holy fucking hell! Just as I felt my cock throb, I felt 4’s hand upon it again, squeezing and stroking me under the table. I knew he was an expert - a professional - but I was feeling like he was even more expert at me. His touch knew where to go, what to do, and how to do it so that I was immediately growing hard in his hand. I looked at him to say something, but he indicated his partner at the bar and he said, “Watch.”
I turned. 5 was standing at the bar. Men and women were moving towards him like bees to a flower. He was literally magnetic. He was speaking to the bartender, who was as mesmerized as the rest of them, and then he smiled and the other man, I think, came in his slacks. 4’s manipulations of my privates was going to cause a similar reaction shortly, and I rested my hand on his to slow the inevitable, wanting to prolong the night’s activities as long as possible.
He leaned towards me and whispered into my ear. His breath was warm and his voice was sweet. “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’re in control now. Nothing will happen unless - or until - you want it to.”
“I’m close,” I said, squeezing my asshole to cause my dick to surge in his grip.
He squeezed back. “I know, but you won’t get there until I let you.”
“How can you...?”
“Trust me,” he said. They were always saying that. But I relaxed a bit and found that, true to his word, he was somehow managing to keep me right there at the edge, within sight, but never so close that I was going to lose myself. He squeezed and stroked and rubbed me, providing constant pleasure that made my cock grow rock hard, but the danger passed once I accepted his words, and I came to trust that he could keep me right there for as long as he wanted to. “Watch,” he said again.
I turned my attention back toward the bar.
5 was talking to another man - no, two other men. They were captivated by him, clearly, and their predatory glances at his various attributes showed that they were in clear competition for this man’s goods. He outclassed them by a mile, standing head and shoulders taller than either and his broad back nearly eclipsed my view of them, though it was easy to see that 5 had chosen these two out for their beauty.
5 looked back at me and the other two followed his gaze. I looked back at them as 4 leaned over to kiss my cheek and neck while his hand continued to charm my snake. One nodded, and the other smiled. A drink in a cocktail glass was delivered to the bar and 5 took it into his hand and turned, walking back towards me as the other two gentlemen followed along, dogs sniffing the pack leader’s scent.
He set my drink down and said, “I hop you don’t mind, sir. I’ve brought along two new friends who I think you might find amusing.”
I looked at them as they stood on either side of him. “Gentlemen,” I said in greeting, looking more closely at them.
The first couldn’t be more than legal age to even be inside the bar. He was beautiful, a blonde-haired surfer with several piercings along the edge of his left ear and lips like soft pillows. His eyes were very large and blue-green, the color of the sea. He had high cheekbones that lent his youthful visage a porcelain doll quality, and he wore a tight-fitting T-shirt that hugged the taught, defined muscles that lined his torso and displayed a pair of pierced nipples. His jeans were nearly as tight as my overgrown companion’s, and one arm had a sleeve of tattoos ending at the wrist. A variety of rather garish rings were arrayed on both hands, and his smile was open and eager. His golden hair was arranged into a sort of mohawk on his head, and he was trying to grow his beard, but his youth was proving that a challenge. There was a cockiness in his stance, and he seemed to be moving even when standing still.
The other man was older than I, though he had clearly been taking care of himself. A conservative haircut, his salt-and-pepper mane, the cut of the suit and his very expensive shoes meant that this was a man of means, like myself, though possibly he had made his money rather than having it handed down to him. He was successful and a confidence radiated from him, almost the polar opposite of the young blonde. He owned a mustache that reminded one of some porn star from another era long gone, though it worked well on him. He was mature, self-assured and drop-dead sexy, and I suspected that under that suit there was a killer body that was likely covered in more salt-and-pepper fur, and maybe some nice, juicy nipples to chew on as well.
The young man said, “Dude,” and thrust his hand toward me. I took it and he shook mine with vigor and surprising strength, as if testing my own or proving something to me. 4 squeezed my dick, indicating either that he liked this guy, or that he didn’t. I suspected the former.
The other man was a gentleman through and through, also offering his hand and shaking mine with a firm ease. “Happy to make your acquaintance,” he said. His voice was rich and deep, and it was my turn to push back at 4’s grip. Here was a man, for certain. Powerful, self-confident, mature and capable.
I sipped my drink and said, “Please, have a seat,” to them both. The blonde spun the chair around backwards and straddled it, shoving his open crotch forward with blatant intent. I liked that. The older man pulled his chair out and sat down, relaxing into the seat and crossing his legs, ankle over knee. 5 moved behind my seat, remaining standing and at attention, behaving like a bodyguard over me.
The blonde leaned forward anxiously, his youthful features animated and his eyes moving from man to man, as if grading us in order of attractiveness. “Well?”
I looked at him. “Well what?”
He thrust his chin at 5 and said, “Dude here said you had some fun in mind, and wondered if we did too. I said, ‘hells yes, dude!’ Fuckin’ A, I have fun in mind. So when do we get started?”
The older gentlemen seemed to find amusement in the energetic youth’s question, and his lips twisted up into a grin. But he said nothing.
5 leaned down, “Too much?” he asked, looking at the blonde.
“I think not,” I responded. “I’m anxious to see what happens once we get started.”
“I am started,” 4 said, squeezing me. I rose up in my seat and my toes curled.
An eyebrow slowly rose on the older gentleman’s face. “Someone is enjoying a head start,” he observed. “That hardly seems fair.” Then he leaned over, placing his hand around the blonde’s neck, and pulled their mouths together for a kiss. A rather lingering, full-lipped kiss. One that had me feeling jealous. The man’s hand then reached toward the blonde’s crotch, and with an expertise only gained with age and wisdom, he was easily unzipping the young man’s pants and pushing his hand inside.
“Fucking hell,” the blonde said, and he grabbed onto the man and pulled him in to continue the kiss.
“A fine start,” 5 said. His hands were on my chest, and his fingertips were on my nipples. Shocks of bliss erupted through me. The older man looked over and up at 5, and their eyes met over the table, though his hand never did stop moving inside the blonde’s crotch.
“You’re a Level...5?” He nodded in confirmation. The gentleman than looked at the man stroking my hard-on and asked. “And, Level 3? Or 4?”
“4.”
The older man looked at me with new respect as the blonde opened his eyes and looked at them. “Auggies? Holy fuck!” His blissful smile turned angelic. “Heard about you, but never met one before.” He looked at me and added in a semi-whisper, “Kinda out of my league.”
I semi-whispered back, “I think they can hear you.” His face registered surprise. I was growing to like this kid more and more.
“You’re familiar with us?” 5 asked. I looked up at him and thought, fucking hell, man, you’re taller than anyone in the place and you’re practically bursting out of that finely tailored suit, it isn’t that hard to guess.
The gentleman nodded as he glanced down at whatever his hand was currently doing with the blonde’s equipment under the table. “Familiar,” he said, “yes.”
He looked back up, at me, as the blonde cooed out a soft groan of bliss. “Both yours this evening, or is he partnered with you?”
4 had explained partnering, so I said, “Yes, they’re with me, though I don’t think they’re ‘mine,’ necessarily. And, no, we’re not partnered.” Jesus, the things 4 could do with just one hand! I swallowed hard and tried to concentrate. “It’s a long story,” I explained.
The gentleman looked at the three of us and said, “No doubt. I should like to hear it.” Then he did something with his hand the blonde cried out and bit his lower lip, as the older man added, “Later.” He moved in toward the blonde and kissed his lips, again, and the young man grabbed his neck and held on, practically shoving his tongue inside the other man’s mouth.
“I like his enthusiasm,” 4 noted. “That will come in handy.”
“I thought the same thing myself,” 5 agreed. “Sir, may I remove my jacket?”
He was keeping up appearances quite well, playing his role to a T. “If you wish,” I answered. “But do it over there so we may all watch.”
“Of course,” he answered, moving with sleek athletic grace to the corner, and we all turned our attentions toward his tall, wide frame. He stripped the jacket from his torso, revealing exactly how tight the black T-shirt hugged his ultra-muscular body. The lounge was dimly lit, so not everything was overt, but there was enough light to see that the man was a monster, and that the shirt was not going to last very long in its struggle to contain his bulk. He put the jacket over the back of an empty chair and resumed his place behind me, arms folded across his massive chest.
“Impressive,” the gentleman said. He looked, again, at me. “Your first augmented companions?” I nodded. “And how are you finding the experience.”
“It’s much more satisfying than I ever imagined.”
“Satisfying?”
My lips trembled into a smile. “Perhaps an inadequate turn of phrase.” I thought about all that had happened, all that I had done and seen, and all that these men had provided.
5 said, “If I have satisfied you, sir, than I am most extremely happy. My only goal is to endeavor to satisfy your every desire.” He was laying on a bit thick, but the gentleman seemed to like his response. The blonde was too busy moaning and squirming in his seat to be able to pay much attention.
“You seem quite able to satisfy your partners as well,” I observed.
He looked at the young man, did something, and we all watched the blonde tattooed loveboy practically salivate. “With age comes experience,” he said. Then he did something else that elicited a similarly extravagant reaction. “He’s also quite... responsive.”
“Oh, fuck yeah. Responsive me in my ass, daddy,” the blonde answered, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Gotta... oh, shit. Can you... can you... oh, fucking hell...”
“Shall I stop, then?” the gentleman inquired. “Wouldn’t want you spent so early in our little adventure.” He pulled his hand from the young man’s crotch and looked at it. A wealth of precum made the skin glisten, and he raised his palm to his mouth and licked the stickiness. “Nice bouquet,” he observed. “Could use a touch of cellaring.”
“Fuck you,” the blonde said.
“All things in time,” the gentleman responded.
“I take it that you two aren’t together?”
The blonde was about to speak, but the gentleman said, “Not as such, though I am beginning to think we should become much better acquainted.” It wasn’t clear whether that was because of the young man’s general demeanor, or because of what he was packing in his pants. “He’s rather... potent.”
“I like to think that I’m charming,” the blonde rogue stated, having seemingly recovered his wits. “Thanks,” he told the mustached older gent, leaning over and kissing him with uncharacteristic grace.
The older man looked down and observed, “You’re rather exposed, you know.”
The blonde only grinned and sat back, folding his arms behind his head and pushing his crotch forward, offering himself like a flagpole ready to be saluted. “Am I?”
“A bit.”
He shrugged. “Does anyone here object? I’m feeling a little... randy.” He reached down to grab his cock, not so much stroking himself as slowly rubbing. “The monster needs some air to calm down. He’s very, very excited at the moment.”
“Indeed he is,” 5 observed, able to view the young man’s equipment from his height behind me. “And may I say that he is quite a handsome monster.”
“Thanks, buddy.” 5 nodded.‘You could let yours out, too, if you wanted. I’m just sayin’....”
“If sir wishes,” he said, nodding to me. Then he asked, “Sir, may I take my cock out?”
“Not just yet,” I said. “No need to frighten anybody.”
“Fucking hell,” the blonde said, grinning.
“You’re an intriguing sort of fellow,” the gentleman said to me.
“Thank you,” I responded.
“I observe that your friend there has been dutifully handling your... shall we say... toolkit almost since you walked in, and you seem to be holding things together quite admirably. From what I know of Level 4s - and I know quite a lot - you must have remarkable endurance.”
“He’s quite good,” 4 volunteered.
“Genuine praise,” the gentleman observed. “I’m doubly impressed.”
“How do you know so much about my companions, if I may ask?”
The handsome older gentlemen smiled. “Of course you may. And the answer is quite simple. I’m an Augment, too.”