At first glance, Sarah looked quite naked as she walked along the shore, but in fact she wore a thong bikini. A tiny skin-tone triangle barely covered her mound and, at the back, merely a wisp of fabric which, as my tongue so often did, burrowed eagerly between her cheeks.

We were on a gap year between sixth form and university, and we’d rented a villa in Mykonos for a week in June. We’d been together since the day we met and seemed to get closer every day, especially in terms of exploring our rapidly developing sexualities.

I smoothed some more sun cream over my six-pack abs and admired the impressive bulge between my legs. Sarah had bought me these little beach trunks, a brand called ‘Playboi’, with a narrow waistband and close-fitting pouch that used what they called ‘3D technology’ to lift and enhance my already ample package.

While opaque, and so maintaining a modicum of decency, the sky blue material was gossamer thin, and the outline of my meaty shaft and big mushroom-headed bellend was clearly obvious beneath. The skimpy back had a centre seam which pulled what little of it there was right up into my bottom, exposing my smooth behind almost as if I too was wearing a thong. They felt so good.

Looking out across the golden Grecian sands, I saw she’d stopped at the water’s edge and was talking to a guy with a tan the colour of milk chocolate. I watched as her head went back in laughter, her mane of blonde hair picked up by the breeze as her hand touched his chest flirtatiously.

She half turned, pointed at me, waved, and they started to come over.

They made a striking couple. Sarah was curvaceous yet athletic, and her new friend's body was as lean and ripped as mine. A gentle pulse began to start up in my groin as I couldn’t help but notice what he had between his legs. His little sun briefs were purple and looked identical to mine. It was clearly apparent that he was also well endowed; the front of his trunks stretched taut by the weight of what they struggled to contain, the mass of it swinging from thigh to thigh in rhythm with his stride.

I rose to greet them. Close up, I could see that he was not just tanned but had the dark skin tone that hinted of some African heritage; his hair was close-cropped jet-black curls, but his eyes were sparkling hazel.

“Paul, this is Dion. Dion, Paul.” Sarah looked from one of us to the other. “Can you believe you’re both wearing Playboi trunks? And you fill them out so well.” She loved to tease and flirt like this. “It’s like a photoshoot for The Big Boys Bulge Book.”

His eyes flicked down involuntarily to the front of my trunks and lingered just a millisecond too long before coming back up to mine. His dark complexion disguised his blush, but I could sense it, nonetheless.

“Babe, you’re hardly in the position to give anyone a lecture on modesty, given that only about 3 square inches of material come between you and being nude.”

Spank. Sarah slapped my barely covered bottom.

“Cheeky. Dion just arrived last night. He’s single." One eyebrow arched as she watched for my reaction.

“Oh really? Can’t be for want of offers.” I was in a playful mood.

“Ha, thanks.” He smiled and caught my eye. “I get my share. Just trying to work out which ones I’m interested in.”

Sarah was intrigued and horny. “Tell us more, you tease.”

Dion took a deep breath. “Well, basically, I’ve never really felt that I fitted into any of those little pigeonholes, ‘gay’, ‘straight’ or ‘bi’, and over the last year or so I’ve started to, well, notice other guys at the gym, while working out and in the showers. The aesthetic beauty of the masculine physique, but also its sexual allure.”

“That’s very beautiful.” This was Sarah’s kind of conversation. “And very natural.”

She looked at me. This was my cue, and I gently touched his shoulder.

“I felt the same about those pigeonholes, and it took me a while to open up to Sarah. Now we call it the ‘Sphere of Sexuality’. You can be anywhere on it or in it – an infinite number of different perspectives. Everyone’s unique. No two people are exactly the same, and there’s no such thing as right or wrong.”

Sarah said, “Once you accept that concept, then you free yourself to explore without the limitations of outdated convention and stifling conformity.”

Dion was wide-eyed, as if he’d seen the light.

“My God, yes, that’s what I’ve been feeling but hadn’t been able to put into words. Look, do you mind if I ask you guys a personal question?”

“We’ll mind if you don’t,” Sarah’s tone encouraged him, her smile leading him on.

“Ok then, well, er, do you two, well, do you both play with other guys and girls, alone and/or together?”

“I do, with girls, alone. But what I really want is to share Paul with another man.” She paused and smiled as I gasped. She’d never told me this before. “Paul’s not quite been ready – until now.”

“Until now?” Dion’s eyes flicked to mine, and this time it was me who blushed. “What’s changed then, Paul?”

“Ha, well, I guess I’ve just been waiting to meet my Mr Right.”

“And what does he look like?” Dion's voice had dropped a little lower.

“Tall, dark.” A little pause. I dragged a finger down his bicep. “Ripped.” I looked down, and with an unhurried, brazen motion I stroked the front of his bulging trunks then reached around to slip my finger underneath their back to caress his bubble butt. “Not to mention hung and stacked.”

“And you haven’t met him yet?” Dion’s voice was now laden with lust.

“Hadn’t. Until now.”

Sarah squealed with delight at this. She came round behind us and draped an arm over each of our shoulders.

“Let’s continue this illuminating discussion in private, shall we, boys?”

“Let’s.” Dion smiled and took my hand.

Our villa was just behind the beach, its marbled floors a cool oasis after the searing heat outside.

As soon as we were through the door, Sarah peeled off her minuscule bikini. “Shower time, I think. I’ve got half the beach stuck on me. Ladies first,“ and she strutted off towards the bathroom.

She was back within a minute, dripping wet and still stark naked.

“Come on, you two, don’t just stand there with your tongues hanging out; go get a shower. You look distinctly overdressed.”

“Shall I go first?” Dion turned to ask me, but Sarah was ahead of him.

“Don’t be silly, you’ll go together. After all, it’s only like showering with other men at the gym, isn’t it? Not as if you haven’t seen another guy nude before, right?”

She instinctively knew that we were ready, more than ready, but like a diver on the high board, there was just that moment's hesitation, a second on the precipice before committing to the weightless plunge.

She came round behind me and yanked down my trunks. With a playful yelp of faux outrage, I scampered down the hallway, my big cock, suddenly freed, swinging and bouncing against my thighs.

The bathroom at the villa was a full-size wet room with a rainfall shower, big enough for half a dozen. She’d left the water on. I heard Dion come in after me. My mind was racing.

The thought of him nude behind me, the thought of him nude so close. My cock started to fill and swell and then rapidly lengthen and rise. I went from limp to full erection in thirty seconds flat.

Sarah was right; it should have been no different from showering at the gym, but it was different – very different. There, I’d heard the distant echoes of a new desire, while here it was the thunder of a beating drum.

I took a handful of shower gel and stroked it along my swollen length. I’d never felt my cock so thick and so hard. My bulbous tip was even more pronounced than usual, and the whole thing pulsing to my heartbeat.

I turned around, not caring if he saw, in fact hoping that he would. But he had his back to me, and, fuck me, what a back. Broad shoulders tapering to a tiny waist, and then his perfect bottom flaring out, two plump bronze globes already with a little tan line triangle from the mini trunks.

What had he said?

‘The aesthetic beauty of the athletic male physique… and its sexual allure…’

He was looking down, his right arm going back and forth in a steady rhythm, the movement unmistakable.

“Shall I do your back?” Without waiting for an answer, I smoothed both hands across the muscles of his shoulders. I heard him gasp and felt him shiver.

His hands moved forward to brace against the tiled wall as I touched the underside of my erection against his bubble ass.

“And why don’t I help you with this?” My hand reached round and grasped his cock. “Oh Dion, you’re massive.” And he was. Almost as thick as mine and longer, with a delicious upward curve. 

“Oh, Paul.” His head went back, and I kissed his neck. “Oh yes.”

He spun around to face me, his length hitting mine like two blades clashing in a sword fight as we took each other in our arms and kissed with a hunger that was both ravenous and insatiable.

“Well, well, well, you two seem to have become firm friends.”

We turned, startled to see Sarah in the doorway. Stark naked and with our cocks both pointing at the ceiling, there was hardly any point in trying to make excuses. I simply smiled.

“How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough to see that you two lovebirds have been hit by Cupid’s arrow. No need to look so coy, you are incredibly beautiful together. All those feelings, those longings, that have been pent up, building up, covered up, have now come bursting out, and, damn, it feels so fucking good. Am I right, boys?”

“You’re always right, my queen.”

“Let’s seal it with another kiss then, now that there’s no need to hide.”

As she instructed, we kissed again. Not hiding now, in fact the polar opposite. It was exactly as she’d called it. Secret cravings, long repressed, came bursting to the surface in a passionate eruption.

“Come on then, playtime.” Taking my cock in her left hand and Dion’s in her right, she led us through to the bedroom without another word.

Two pillows had been laid out lengthwise on the bed, one on top of the other. I needed no prompting; this was a position I took up almost every night as a prelude to our lovemaking.

I eagerly jumped up onto the bed and lay on my back with my head raised up on the pillows. She swung a leg across my face and positioned her pussy an inch above my mouth. I felt Dion climb onto the bed between my spread-out legs.

She circled her hand around my root. “Fuck me, Paul, you’re enormous today. Isn’t he huge, Dion?”

“Oh fuck yeah, so thick. I love his veins and that giant purple crown.” Dion's voice had dropped an octave.

“Why are you so huge tonight, I wonder? Are you thinking about Dion’s mouth around your cock? Or the taste of his sweet bum?”

My “both” was muffled by Sarah lowering her dripping vulva onto my face at the same time as sliding her lips over my red-hot cockhead.

As she pushed her big ass down to smother me, all sight and sound were gone, my face eclipsed by her giant cheeks. The only senses that remained were the taste of her juices and the heat of her throat as she enveloped my solid shaft.

I was lost in that delicious oblivion for a few minutes until I started to feel that the fuse had been ignited on my orgasm.

I spanked her bum and cried out a muffled warning to let her know that I was close, and she stopped her sucking so as not to make me cum.

Suddenly the grip on my penis changed. A bigger hand wrapped round me, and from a different angle.

As I sucked on Sarah’s clitty, I felt her tremble and bounce on my face as she reached her peak. An unseen tongue swept over my sensitive glans and traced around my coronal ridge before my throbbing helmet was taken deep into a greedy mouth.

As her orgasm abated, Sarah raised her bottom slightly, no doubt to let me hear her say, “Yes, Dion, let me see you suck his cock.”

She dismounted my soaked and sticky face, and, to my delight, Dion spun around to take her place.

I took his buttocks in my hands and guided him onto my face. I was greedy for his virgin hole, first licking all around his anus before probing his rosebud with my thrusts.

He let out a muffled moan of pleasure - despite my cock being buried in his throat - and I felt his hole dilate and open widely, receptive to my eager tongue.

As we feasted on each other in heavenly harmony, I suddenly knew what I wanted, what we both wanted. In fact, it's what all three of us wanted.

I gently pushed his bottom forward, and he quickly took the hint, putting his face down onto the bed and raising his bare bum high into the air.

I moved up to be kneeling behind him and took his cheeks in both my hands, spreading them apart and diving in to munch his mancunt.

The taste was extraordinary: thick, sweet and peachy with the faintest tang of honey.

I was totally lost in the moment as I devoured him but still dimly aware of his cries of rapture and Sarah’s crude encouragements.

Suddenly his head came up, and he looked back over his shoulder.

“Paul, I want you inside me.  Make love to me.”

“Oh baby,” was all I could muster in reply.

“Oh fuck,” was Sarah’s low moan.

I moved up to take his hips in my hands. I didn’t even recognise my own penis, it was so massively swollen and hard. Sarah came round to the bottom of the bed, knelt in front of Dion and held his hand.

She whispered softly, but I could still just hear, “Open your hole for him, stretch it as wide as you can, welcome his penis into your depths.”

I looked down and saw his hole dilate as he did as she commanded. Although his skin was mocha, I could now see that his bottom hole was pink inside, tender and inviting, untouched, the purest anal virgin.

I placed my cockhead at his entrance and heard him moan in anticipation. I drizzled some drool down over my glans, even though he was already soaking wet, and pushed my giant bulb against his ring.

Watching his boy pussy lips stretch then yield was a wonderful sight. Equally astonishing was the series of high-pitched wails that emerged from Dion’s mouth, girlish little whimpers that acknowledged his submission.

“Good boy.” Sarah stroked his hair. “Give him another inch now, Paul.”

I slowly pushed more deeply into him and felt my cockhead emerge from his tight tube into the velvet void beyond.

Dion’s head snapped back, and his mouth fell open in a silent scream. He came up first onto his hands and knees, then further up, his back arched deeply, so that he and Sarah faced each other with their hands clasped together. They kissed.

Sarah had long since taught me the secret of the male P-spot and I knew that this was the perfect angle to bring Dion to that ultimate peak of male anal pleasure.

I resisted the urge to ram my entire length right into his sacred sanctum. Instead, I drove my cockhead 2 more inches into his guts until I felt my frenulum rub against his prostate gland.

Dion was shaking now, the uncontrollable tremors and convulsions of bottom-boy ecstasy as I massaged his secret epicentre with my enormous spongy bulb.

Sarah reached down and squeezed his cock. “He’s rock hard Paul, I think he’s gonna cum.”

Sweat was dripping from my brow as I built a steady rhythm. I pulled back until my coronal ridge touched the inside of his sphincter and then powerfully thrusting back in against his P-spot.

Dion’s cries got higher and higher until they became one long constant shriek. His body shook ever more violently and then suddenly tensed, stock still and rigid as I continued with my steady tempo, five, six, seven thrusts, until he suddenly exploded, his body thrashing wildly and great ropes of semen flying upwards from his hands-free cock and painting Sarah’s pretty face.

As Dion’s climax finally subsided, mine started to erupt. My anus twitched and my balls contracted as a sudden, urgent orgasmic tide rose high and then broke its banks, unleashing a tsunami of my own man juice which flooded Dion’s sacred cavern.

**********

That week was a shameless and uninhibited celebration of our magical sexual awakening. No avenue was left unexplored in our craven quest for new excitement, and all seven of our sweet young holes were fucked into oblivion, our appetites insatiable.

Dion was scheduled to fly to Dubai the day before we went back to Heathrow.

“Shall we give him a lift to the airport?”

“No, Paul, I’ll say goodbye to him here. I think you two should be in private as you part.”

I felt an almost overwhelming surge of love for her and had to compose myself before I was able to speak.

“Sarah, I love you so much it hurts.”

A flicker of a smile, the touch of her finger on my cheek. “Beautiful boy. This week has been your sexual epiphany, my sweet prince. My little chrysalis has finally become a butterfly, spreading his colourful wings, free to fly, free to live.”

It was a bittersweet parting at the airport. Our goodbye kiss said more than words ever could and lasted 20 minutes. Our trousers were tented by ferocious erections and our hands roamed shamelessly over each other’s bodies, proud and unashamed, not caring who saw us or what they might think.

He and I had fallen in love: with each other, with ourselves and with our own unique places within the Sphere of Sexuality.