"Differing Strokes"

by Julius
copyright Oct. 2008



A straight guy and a gay guy sharing an apartment might seem a little strange but it worked. As far as housekeeping went, each had his strengths and weaknesses and the whole thing worked very well indeed. They'd been an “odd couple” for a year with little friction. Dates came and went but neither seemed to keep a partner for very long. Confirmed bachelors were they and seemed destined to continue so.



One evening, Alan came bustling in with two girls in tow. Orphans in the storm he called them. He'd met them in a gay bar. Pretty young things, they were obviously a couple. To Vic it seemed a shameful waste of cunt.

They were out of cash and had nowhere to stay. Alan had brought them home, two stray kittens.

“Is that OK?” he asked Vic after he'd explained they needed somewhere to crash for two nights, “they've only got their bus tickets.”

They were gorgeous. Why did they have to be lesbians?

But he said, “Why not?” Damn it, what could he say? Alan was too nice a guy to be for real.

Cynthia and Trish were quite overwhelming in their gratitude. Wonderful in the kitchen; Vic hadn't eaten so well in a long time. And really, they were fun to be with. Vic had never spent time with any lesbians before. He found Cynthia utterly beautiful; not that Trish was unattractive. Over and over he found himself wondering, 'Why?' But there was no doubting the love that crackled between the two girls, so he tried to just enjoy the food and their company.

Alan had no romantic inclinations and Vic thought, not for the first time, that gay guys maybe had more than a few emotional advantages. If only Cynthia wasn't so utterly delicious.




“What a waste.”

“Waste of what?” Alan queried.

“Waste of pussy. That Cynthia! And young Trish come to that,” he explained emphatically.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and thought he heard the door close quietly.

Alan grinned. "You straight guys think with your cocks don't you?”

“'Fraid so.”




Vic was sliding into sleep. They'd drunk too much wine with supper and then stayed up late watching a movie. Trish and Alan had cried shamelessly at the end and he and Cynthia had teased them gently for it. Tomorrow morning the girls would be catching their westbound bus.

His door opened quietly and someone sat on the edge of his bed. “Move over,” Cynthia's husky voice said.

Amazed, he did so and she slipped under the covers. “Cuddle up,” she said.

He moved closer. She had her back to him. He cautiously moved up against her. She was naked, as was he. Vic felt his cock rear unbidden. It fitted, as if by instinct, into the cleft of her buttocks.

She squirmed and gave a little chuckle, “I guess I should be flattered.”

“I'm sorry.” His voice said plainly that he wasn't.

“Poor Vic, you've got the hots for a lesbian.”

“Can't help it, you're a lovely lesbian.”

He moved carefully, his cock slid easily in the cleft of her ass. She was slippery there. He could smell the scent of Alan's hand cream from under the covers.

“You guys have been wonderful. Especially you, not bad for the only straight one in the crowd.”

“Easy enough, you two are very sweet.”

She wiggled herself against him, doing wondrous things to his rigid cock. “Go on then! You'll never get a piece of ass quite like this again.”

“Are you sure? I mean… you're, well, you're…”

“I'll just try to ignore you,” the chuckle came again, throaty and oddly sexy, “I'll focus on the cunt you say is so wasted.”

“I'm sorry, you weren't meant to hear that.”

“It's not wasted Vic, Trish loves it.” Her ass ground against him again. “Hush now, let's just do our thing. No hurry.”

Vic tried not to rush. When he slid a hand round and found her ample breast he felt her tense and she murmured, “No.” He slid the hand down and rested it lightly on her hip.

But how wonderful it felt to have his cock in that lovely cleavage. He fucked away blissfully. She moved in sweet counterpoint as her hand made love to her pussy. It wasn't easy holding back. When he stopped moving, her ass still ground against him in response to her own ministrations.

He'd watched her moving about the apartment with a proud grace. Those heavy breasts jostling inside her blouse, the exquisite ass that was now briefly his.

Here she was, with that lovely ass, teasing him, letting him play, making him wish. His cock was between those full, round buttocks, fucking them, he'd never dreamed.

When next he stilled his thrusting hips she stopped too. “This is our thank you. Trish is with Alan.” The chuckle came again; he felt it with his cock, “What do you suppose she's doing for him?”

Vic wondered too. But his body was more interested in where his cock was, what his cock was doing.

“I don't think I can hold on much longer,” he said sliding his cock slowly down as far as he dared, then thrusting up along her cleavage again. This felt like no other fuck he'd ever known. The sweet forbiddeness of doing it to this strange girl, this way. He loved her warmth, her sweet difference.

She was breathing hard and writhing with her own rhythm. Getting near he guessed. He humped against her, his cock thrusting, sliding with increasing urgency.

“Ready?” she asked.

“God yes!” he gasped.

“Go on then, go on!”

He felt her, heard her as her orgasm neared. He felt her buttocks tense, gripping him and then he lost it. He slammed against that lovely ass. Fucked that incredible furrow and then he was coming, squirting between the small of her back and his stomach. Gushing helplessly, wetting them both, emptying himself.

He heard her sob her way through her own climax, bucking back and forth against him, crying out softly in her own private ecstasy.




She stayed a while. His cock dwindled between her buttocks.

Finally, just when he thought she must be asleep, she said softly, “I'd best be going, sleep well Vic.”

“Goodnight and.…”

"Shh."

He wished she'd stay, wanted to ask, but knew she wouldn't.




Alan and Vic stood side by side watching the Greyhound move out into traffic. Vic saw Trish wave and next to him, almost too faint to be heard, Alan said, “If only I could find a guy with a mouth like hers.”