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Stan pulled in a quick breath at the first touch of Monty's knuckles against his chest. He stared down at his hands as they worked on his shirt, his insides knotting with expectation. For the first time in his life, he was vividly aware of his body. Sensations he had never felt were gathering inside him. His temples were pounding--on the verge of exploding with new realization.
His shirt was pushed off his shoulders and pulled along his arms, soon exposing his upper torso. Monty moved his nimble fingers to the belt at Stan's waist, releasing it skillfully while Stan looked on, flames of desire kindling inside his body.
Is this really happening?
He dragged his gaze away from Monty's hands to see Chris taking his clothes off. His dick jerked in his crotch.
Holy shit! I'm not dreaming!
He felt his jeans become loose and grabbed at Monty's hands as he slid the material down the length of his thighs. Their hands collided as the undressing was suddenly halted. Their eyes clasped. Monty smiled.
"You don't want to stop me, Stan. Just let it happen." He winked one incredibly green eye. "Just let it happen."
Stan pulled in a steadying breath and allowed Monty to finish undressing him. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans. Naked, he looked at the other two men in the room. He felt like a fish out of water--hot all over and sporting a massive hard-on. He smiled suddenly, as though just getting the joke.
Monty laughed suddenly. He shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it onto the counter at the front of the room. He released the button on his slacks and slid the zipper down. His slacks fell around his ankles. He threw acareless glance over his shoulder at Stan and swiveled round to face him. His silk boxer shorts were tented at his crotch, revealing his erection.
Stan felt himself growing harder. He dropped his gaze to his prick and couldn't help but smile at the enormity of it. He felt suddenly quite proud of his manhood. A feeling akin to that of immense power surged through him. He eyed the two men and realized they had indeed come to help him.
Chris seemed to sense Stan's sudden revelation. He swaggered across the room, his naked body magnificent in form. He was muscular with well-developed pectorals, long legs with muscular thighs and he was covered quite attractively with fine black hair.
He must be Italian.
Stan grimaced at the thought. What did it matter--at that point in the game?
Was it a game? Were the men playing a game with him?
They came at him, dicks wagging at their crotches, and Stan watched with an expectancy that surprised him. In his wildest dreams he had never once envisioned himself on the verge of having sex with two men.