It wasn’t just the mechanical push-grind-pull, though. While the motions down below were going on, Katie and I were kissing deeply and she was running her hands over all the parts of me she could reach. It wasn’t as playful as the time before, just very tender and loving and comfortable.I couldn’t tell you how long we made love. I’m sure a lot of minutes passed, but that was unimportant. I can also tell you Katie had a couple more orgasms, which is significant but still feels secondary to the intimacy we were sharing while our bodies were connected. I’ve done some reading about Tantric sex and, while this wasn’t anything that would approach that, I was beginning to understand how sex could be a spiritual thing.Eventually, though, spirituality and intimacy got lost as our lust heated up. The pace of our coupling sped up and there was more force involved. After her latest orgasm, Katie must have sensed that I was nearing my own climax and she instructed me to pound her hard until I felt. I stood up and dropped the few clothes that were left in a slow twirl of a striptease. Both men watched me, entranced, each totally unembarrassed in the presence of each other, the Professor transfixed with the grateful smile of an old man. I turned to him and slowly undressed him. I wondered how long it had been since anyone had seen his cock.It was oddly different from Brian's. It had a quaint hint of a curve and a fleshy foreskin. Inquisitively I kissed the foreskin, occasioning a gratified and gratifying gasp. My tongue explored the veins and contours of this seventy-five-year-old but undeniably sprightly, dick. I was certain that Matt wouldn't mind. He knew his reward would come later.I looked round at Matt. Far from minding, he was relishing his new role as voyeur. He too had undressed and was fingering his own cock, stroking his balls, indicating to me that I should stroke Rodney's in the same way. Matt was miming a lesson in male masturbation. Maybe they were things he'd.
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