The four Ds

by BRK   

Four close friends get away for a mountain cabin vacay, only for the environs to make them hornier than usual.

Dante pushed open the door and walked into the cabin, spreading his arms wide. “Voilà!” he said, taking in the spacious, if slightly dusty, oak-themed interior. “Welcome to Chez Cavazos, I guess.”

His friends came in behind him, looking around curiously at the high-peaked vaulted ceiling, the heavy wooden beams, and sturdy, comfortable-looking furniture, leaving the bags and coolers in the car to get later. “I can’t believe you’ve never been up here,” Darius said, crossing to the wide, stone-set fireplace and examining some small, framed photographs propped on the mantelpiece above.

Dante joined him and was surprised to see the pictures were all of more or less the same group of well-built shirtless men, arms around each other’s shoulders as they beamed for the camera. In addition to the cozy-looking photos there were a few other objets d’art along the mantel of a suggestive or even sybaritic nature, including a deliberately rough sculpture of two brawny men from the waist up who seemed to be melting into each other as they furiously kissed. Next to it was a squat totem of a monkey god cheekily grasping his arm-sized, very erect dick. “Me neither,” Dante laughed, and Darius gave him a shy grin from under his lashes. Dante had never even met the older second cousin who’d abruptly disappeared last autumn after arranging the bequeathal of his entire estate to Dante, but it sure looked like he’d had a fun life.

Dante’s pulse picked up a little as his exceptionally pretty, wrestler-built graphic designer friend tentatively held his gaze before finally turning back to the photo in his hand. Dante let out a silent breath, his skin feeling a little heated under his polo. He and Darius had known each other for years, but it was only lately that Dante had been asking himself what those sweet, black-cherry lips might taste like. Now, in this moment, the urge seemed almost irresistible. He decided to walk away for the moment. Patting Darius’s compact, bulky shoulder for a second, enjoying the brief sensation of warm, solid flesh through the thin heather tee, Dante headed back to close the heavy front door against the mild early spring evening, calling out, “So what do you guys think?” to the others as he went.

Dmitry was at the huge picture window taking up most of the far wall, his expression stone-faced as he stared out at the sun setting over the snow-capped mountains, bathing the steeply rolling forests between with a warm reddish glow. “The view’s not bad, at least,” he said grudgingly, as though it was the most that could be said about the otherwise dire and barely tolerable accommodations.

“Shut up, Grunk,” the other three said in unison, all of them chuckling. Dmitry snorted but couldn’t hide a tiny, sunset-red smile. The name traced back to some girl in high school who’d soured on Dmitry after making cow eyes at him to no avail for a whole semester; she’d gifted him with the nickname, a portmanteau of “grumpy” and “hunk,” and it had immediately stuck. It certainly fit him: he was exceptionally tall, calmly arrogant, icily good-looking, and he worked out his aggressions at the gym like clockwork. It seemed he had a lot of aggressions, which he addressed very thoroughly with lots of reps that yielded a slow-growing profusion of steel-hard muscle. The other three loved teasing him with the moniker, and Dante was convinced that Dmitry sometimes exaggerated his gruffness just to give them random opportunities to do so.

The only other nickname among the four of them was “the four Ds” for the whole group, with which Seth had gifted them via text a few weeks after Seth, Dante, Darius, and Dmitry had met sharing a row in a massive intro lecture their first year in college. When Dante had objected, quite reasonably, that Seth didn’t meet the “D” prerequisite for such a club, Seth had just sent a winky face. They’d all laughed (or lol’ed). Then came the drunken night a few months later where they’d all taken a long whiz out behind the DQ, and Seth had had a chance to prove the old adage that tall lanky guys had it best…

The “D” in question was in the living room area, looking around at the comfortable-looking, deep-set sofa and armchairs angled to face both the fireplace and the big window. He was nodding. “I like it,” Seth said. “If I didn’t have to commute to the hospital I’d live here. Warmer than I expected, though,” he added stagily, before whipping off the heavy university football shirt he’d been wearing and tossing it dramatically over the back of the sofa.

Any other time Dante would have rolled his eyes, but he was already feeling a little flushed, and Seth’s defined, sinewy torso with its long, firm, lightly marked abs seemed to amplify his heated arousal. Dante glanced at Darius, who seemed to be feeling the same. As if on a dare, they pulled off their shirts together like they had been practicing for some sort of Olympic synchronized disrobing meet, each expertly lofting their shirts onto the sofa back next to Seth’s.

Then they were all looking at Dmitry, who was eyeing them coldly—though something about the tinge of his pale skin around the neck told Dante he wasn’t any less affected by this hothouse mood of growing arousal than the rest of them. “C’mon, Grunk,” Seth urged, grinning widely at him as he slowly slid a hand up his belly in provocation.

Dante, for his part, had found his eyes dropping to Dmitry’s new-looking jeans, which seemed to be straining at the zipper. He licked his lips automatically. Dmitry, as they all knew from the DQ incident, was the only one of them who had “D” man Seth well beat in the phat cock department, though at times the surly fucker seemed to view his generously proportioned wang almost as a burden and an inconvenience. Sure enough, after looking wordlessly between them for a heated moment, he grimaced and angrily reached into his pants to straighten out his burgeoning erection.

I guess we’re all getting turned on, Dante thought. What the hell is up with that? The situation made him curious, but the prickle of anticipation he was feeling erased any impulse other than a need to go with the flow. They were all in the living area now between the sofa and the chairs, as if they’d drawn closer to each other without realizing it.

Dmitry abruptly gave them a sardonic smile and grunted, “Fine.” He began undoing his short-sleeved solid-burgundy button-down, to cheers of “Do it!” from Seth and “Yeah, nice” from Dante as a sliver of chiseled, pink muscle was increasingly revealed downward—first collarbone, then smooth, hard-walled cleavage, then rippling, stone-hard abs, finally punctuated by the head and a couple of inches of wide, stiff cock nosing past his waistband. Darius, maybe a little overwhelmed, took Dante’s hand as they watched, and Dante clasped it tightly, taking Seth’s for good measure on the other side. Once it was fully open Dmitry whipped off the shirt and threw it aside, blasting them with the close-up sight of a hard, muscle-packed torso so perfectly sculpted Adonis would have killed a satyr for it.

“Fuck!” Dante blurted out. He looked between his friends guiltily. “Jesus, when did you all get so hot? I’m hard as a fucking rock here,” he admitted. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his jaw by his ear before dropping onto his bare shoulder.

“Me too,” Darius said quietly, squeezing Dante’s hand. Dante glanced at him, and Darius added sheepishly, “I have been since we got here.”

“Damn right, we need to take the edge off,” Seth said, caressing Dante’s other wrist with his thumb. “Hey, let’s have a circle jerk!”

“What?” Dmitry said flatly. He made as if to step back, but before he could Seth reached into Dmitry’s pants and grabbed the larger man’s oversized wang. Dmitry froze, not quite suppressing a gasp.

“Uh, Seth, bro, I—” Dante started to say, as Darius’s hand squeezed his tighter—in alarm or anticipation, Dante wasn’t sure.

Seth reached over with his free hand and deftly undid Dante’s waistband button, sliding his zipper down before he knew it and letting out his extra-wide, flat-headed five-inch cannon. It was in Seth’s firm grasp before Dante could even draw another breath. “Commando, I like it,” Seth said. “C’mon, you guys do mine.”

Dante didn’t understand why he was feeling this overheated and aroused, or how his inhibitions and the usual barriers between them had suddenly melted away, but now that the circle jerk was already in progress and he was feeling the raw pleasure of Seth’s grip around his hard, sensitive prick it seemed almost perverse to object.

Sharing a quick glance with Dmitry, Dante reached out and popped the top fastener on Seth’s beat-up, knee-sprung 501s, then, each of them grabbed a side and pulled the button fly apart with a satisfying bup-bup-bup-bup. Behind, Dante’s very hard log of a cock was straining and flexing against tringle patterned boxer briefs. Dante and Dmitry pulled these down too, a little more awkwardly, and the jeans and briefs both slid down a little off Seth’s ass exposing a very hard, very straight, two-finger-thick erection only a couple inches shy of Dmitry’s raging 12-inch monster.

“Damn, Seth,” Dante said. He reached to take the beautiful succulent-looking cock in his hand, but Dmitry got their first, boldly gripping the mighty erection as if he were entitled to it. Dante smiled—there was plenty of room for a second stroker, fortunately. He wrapped his hand ceremoniously around Seth’s big prick and squeezed lightly.

“Fuck, yeah,” Seth said, returning the favor on Dante’s blunter prick as he looked across at Darius with a grin.

Dante looked over and huffed a laugh. Darius looked up at him and Dmitry with the most sheepish “come and get it” look he’d ever seen. Apparently, while he and Dmitry had been working on Seth, the shorter, darker-skinned stud had quietly undone his own chinos with his free hand and pulled down the fly, letting out his own very adamant erection.

Dante found himself gaping a little, surprised underneath his spiking, sweat-making arousal. At the DQ piss-off, Darius hadn’t seemed that endowed, but evidently he was a grower: though narrower than Dante’s his hard-on was substantially longer, more than halfway between Dante’s flat, uncut five-inch torpedo and Seth’s flat, neatly circumcised ten.

Darius was looking at him as though waiting for a reaction, as if there could be a better one than the bucking of his own cock in Seth’s slowly stroking fist (Dante realized with his flickering awareness that he and Dmitry were stroking too, rhythmically caressing Seth’s substantial erection). “It’s as hot as the rest of you,” Dante told Darius, who beamed back at him. Again moving together they reached for each other’s cocks, Seth pushing down making room for Darius to grip Dante around the head, while Dmitry grasped Darius’s longer, thinner tool.

At the same time, Darius took a spot on Dmitry’s enormous tool and squeezed, gasping at how much of his hand it filled.

“Hey! Not so hard!” Dmitry barked suddenly.

Startled, Darius jerked back, still gripping Dmitry’s cock so tight he wrenched it out of Seth’s hand—and completely off of Dmitry’s body!

Darius stared at the rock-hard, pulsing 12-inch cock in his fist and let out an “Ack!” before spasmodically letting go of the tool. It hit the handmade throw rug under their feet with a thud.

“Ow!” Dmitry exclaimed when it hit. He turned angrily on Darius. “You fucker, what did you do?”

Dante was, if anything, more aroused than ever, flooded with a craving for cock and unable to think straight, the air around him seeming thick and stultifying, filled with its own pleasure. The four of them went on stroking each other’s very hard tools as if that were more important than anything—except for Dmitry’s, of course, which lay twitching needily on the floor between them, like a sacrifice at the center of a demonic circle.

“Duude,” Dante said, looking up at his too-handsome, too-perfectly muscled friend in awe. “Dude, your dick comes off?!”

“No!” Dmitry said. To Darius he added, “Put—put it back!”

Darius, still gripping Dante’s leaking, eager prick, bent down and tentatively picked up the fever-hot, throbbing tool.

They stared at it. “Wait,” Seth said. “Wait. He said ‘ow.’” He turned to Dmitry. “You said ‘ow’ when it hit. You can… still feel it?”

Dmitry stared at the pulsing footlong hard-on in Darius’s hand as he held it up for them to see. Dmitry nodded, looking stunned.

“Darius,” Dante said urgently. “You have to try…” He didn’t finish, but left his mouth a little open, his tongue wiggling slightly—enough to suggest what he wanted Darius to try.

“Wait!” Dmitry warned, glaring at Dante. Darius, however, wide-eyed and flushed with warm, overwhelming need like the rest of them, could not resist. He drew the uncut monster cock up to his mouth and slid it between his lips. Dmitry lifted his chin and moaned loudly. Darius shivered and started full-on fellatio, increasing Dmitry’s groans and grunts of pleasure exponentially.

Dante suddenly knew he had to taste Darius’s cock—the cock he held in his hands. This was his chance. Tightening his grip, with quick pull and jerk he tried mimicking Darius’s actions from before. To his amazement, Darius’s quivering erection snapped free of his groin with a soft pop, and Dante had it in his hand—and then it was in his mouth, and Darius was grunting and moaning around the giant cock he was expertly fellating.

Dmitry, panting and grunting, glared at Darius and then at Dante. Before Dante realized what was happening, Dmitry reached over and shoved Darius’s and Seth’s hands aside, then angrily pulled Dante’s blunt erection with a yank. Dante, expecting a stab of pain at the separation, was shocked at how good it felt—not only was his cock pulling free almost like a mini-orgasm, but it felt deeply, intoxicatingly amazing for his cock to be free of his body, like a new kind of euphoric freedom no man had ever before experienced. He wanted to feel like this all the time.

He had just enough time to register and understand this carnal epiphany before Dmitry started licking and mouthing the head and upper shaft of Dmitry’s cock like it was a big ice cream cone he was teaching a lesson. Dante let out a high-pitched squeal of pleasure and doubled down on the blow-job he was giving Darius’s hard, pre-spitting cock as though it were Dmitry’s, as the two of them stared each other down.

“I guess I’m left to take care of myself,” Seth said with a grin. He did not sound even a little disappointed at the prospect of sucking himself off, Dante thought, amused. Experimentally, Seth gripped himself with both hands and pulled, twisting his prick very slightly. It came off in his hands with a minimum of effort. “Holy fuck,” Seth said, delighted. Adjusting his grip on his flat, middle-flaring ten-inch wang, he started going to town on it, sucking his detached cock with the relish of a fellatio connoisseur. It was hot just to watch, and as he looked around the circle he realized there was a feedback loop of pleasure leaping through them as they sucked, feeling not only the heady pleasure of blowing and being blown but an increasingly strong taste of everyone else’s two-layered pleasure as well, building up between them.

Dante was already close, and watching the others as they passionately blew the crazily aroused detached cocks in their hands drove him to the edge. The others were experiencing the same need to climax, and then suddenly it all burst free and they were cumming hard, spurt after spurt, and the overlapping sensations made it feel like he was cumming into Dmitry’s mouth and his own, and Darius’s and Seth’s, too.

The climax almost broke him, and as his knees weakened he threw his arm around Darius’s thick shoulders, relying on his sturdy strength. Panting hard, with his other hand he lowered Darius’s still-hard prick, not sure what to do with his.

He stared across at Seth, looking sweaty and very self-satisfied (literally, Dante thought), then at Dmitry, who seemed… defiant? Holding Dante’s gaze, he very deliberately lowered Dante’s wide and stubby, still-erect prick and shoved it against his own groin, lifting his boxer-briefs up to hold it in place. “Mine now,” he said, taunting.

Then they both gasped. Dante could still feel his cock, but now in a more ghostly way… like it was still a part of his being but belonged to someone else. Dmitry looked down quickly in dismay. “Shit, I can feel it, it merged into me,” he said. He looked up at Dante plaintively, all trace of his attitude erased. “Dante, I—” he started.

Dante cut him off with a smile, his heart still pounding from the rush of orgasm. “It’s okay,” he said, oddly unconcerned at the idea of his cock not being in his own crotch. “I’m okay.” Besides, he was pretty sure their cocks were still removable, though they’d have to see whether that was true only here at the cabin, or just in general.

“Let me try,” Seth said, looking at Darius, then Dante, his eyes falling to the long, slightly darker erection in Dante’s hand. Dante glanced at Darius, who shrugged, still a bit overwhelmed. Dante turned and handed Darius’s long, delicious, cum-slicked cock to Seth, who pushed it into his groin and held it a few seconds.

“Whoa,” Darius said suddenly.

Seth looked up at Darius, eyes wide and smiling. “Fuck, that feels good,” he said. He started stroking Darius’s slick cock, and he and Darius both whimpered in pleasure.

Fuck, I was going to need to cum again soon. I looked at Darius. “I want to see that big giant cock on you,” I admitted.

Darius looked at me, then at Dmitry. He was back to his usual arch expression. “This one’s mine now,” he said, pointing at Dante’s hard cock in his briefs.

“Okay then.” Darius did as Seth had, pushing the too-huge cock into his crotch, and then he and Dmitry both sighed. Darius started stroking the big, bobbing erection lightly, watching Dmitry’s pleasure while feeling it himself.

“I guess this one’s yours,” Seth said cheerily, offering Dante his own 10-inch beauty.

Dante took it, but oddly he wasn’t in any hurry to re-encumber his crotch—something in him liked the current set-up, sharing his blunt 5-incher with big muscley Dmitry this way. Instead, he looked over at Darius. He’d had a radical idea and wanted to act on it before he was thinking straight again. “Open wide,” he said.

Darius grinned and complied, no doubt figuring he was about to help Seth experience a disconnected blow job like they all had. His eyes widened comically as Dante shoved the big cock into his gaping maw base-first, holding it in place against the back of his mouth. A moment later Seth sucked in a breath, and Darius closed his eyes as he closed his lips around his new mouthcock and smiled.

Dante around looked at the others, who were staring at Darius with amazement. “C’mon,” he told them teasingly. “We shouldn’t let it get cold.” Not that there was any chance of that particular cock being bereft in any way for very long.

They all made out and stroked each other for a raw, sultry hour as the sky filled slowly with stars outside the picture window. Finally they came all over again, their orgasms overlapping even more than before. As they crumpled onto the big couch in a lax, still-aroused satiation, legs and arms atop each other in a flaccid heap, Dante made a mental note to make sure these trips to the cabin of suspicious arousal became a regular monthly event for the four Ds… and maybe a few equally horny friends who might want to join in as well.

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