Hollywood Swinging: Part II


“Randall” is an actor and dancer who has starred in some well-known musicals and plays from Broadway to Vegas. I met him through a mutual friend in Washington, D.C. and he promised to show me a good time if I ever came to Los Angeles.

Randall wasn’t lying. He definitely hooked a brother up my second night in “La La Land.”

“I got a buddy I want you to meet — a mature guy who is very nice,” he called to say before picking me up on Wednesday night. “Or we could hook up with this young, built guy I know.”

I thought a moment. “I think I will go with the mature one.”

And hour and a half later we were pulling up to “Tyson’s” ranch home on a street off Crenshaw. Tyson is a masculine guy, with bulging biceps and pecs. He stands about six feet 3 and weighs about 220 but it all falls in the right place. Brownskinned. Friendly but not overly talkative.

Randall is more than 50 years old but still dances so his body is still flexible. He looks half his age. He is also an insatiable bottom and I knew how things were going to go. Randall took off his shirt, sat on Tyson’s sofa and took out a blunt and started smoking. He passed it to me and I inhaled the musky, sweet smoke.

I was jetlagged and sleepy. But the weed made my head swim and I felt sexier.

I reached over and pulled Randall closer and started licking his nipple. Then I pulled out my dick and started stroking it until it grew long and rigid. Tyson sat on a sofa opposite us watching and stroking his dick through his nylon running shorts.

I stood up and Randall started sucking my dick, his hands moving up and down the shaft like an artist molding clay sculpture. The next thing I knew Tyson was undressed and standing next to me. Underneath his clothes he was even more muscular, his dick not as long as mine but thicker with a bigger head.

Randall took turns sucking us off and then put both of our dicks in his mouth at the same time. Tyson pulled me closer to him and I felt his big hands massaging my back.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom,” Tyson said.

Tyson and I lay back on his king-sized bed, playing with our big dicks, while Randall looked down on us. Soon he got in bed and started putting on a show, playing with his ass, sticking his fingers where our dicks would soon go.

“You are two beautiful black men,” Tyson said, his eyes slightly glazed from the weed and drink he had.

I started fucking him first, pounding into him missionary style while Tyson watched. Randall is flexible and can still do a split so I pushed his legs way up and just pounded away, faster and faster. He had inhaled some rush so his ass was loose. Thanks to the lube it was wet and hot, too.

“Beat that ass up, Immanuel,” Tyson said, encouraging me like a basketball coach egging on his star player. “This shit is hot.”

Tyson straddled Randall’s face while I fucked him and Tyson sucked his dick while my dick pistoned into his ass. Randall is a creole from Louisiana. His skin looked creamy against our dark bodies in the dim room.

Then Tyson slipped on a condom, lubed up, and started fucking Randall while I watched.

“Ahhh, oohh,” Randall moan. “Y’all are fucking this ass. Oh, this is gooood.”

I can’t remember who got Randall to cum, but he busted his nutt, jerking the cum onto his stomach. Then he got up and went back to the living room and left Tyson and me alone.

Tyson is one of the most masculine men I have met. I was surprised to discover a lot of guys in Los Angeles have swagger. We lay next to each other and started kissing and caressing. Despite looking so hardcore he was really a good smoocher.

“You are hot Immanuel. I’m digging you,” he said.

Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I like to take dick sometime. I want you to fuck me but not now.”

The next night, when darkness fell Tyson drove across town to my hotel in West Hollywood and I climbed up between his long, muscular legs and fucked him. His ass was tight and we didn’t fuck long, but he seemed to enjoy it.

“Fuck this ass Immanuel. Damn that dick is all up in me,” he said while I thrusted.

Today I texted him. I don’t think we will meet again — I am just an out-of-town hookup. Here today and gone tomorrow to the opposite coast of America. But I wanted to let him know I appreciated him hosting the hot threesome.

“I will probably never meet you again I want you to know I had fun and it was nice to meet you,” I said.

“Never say never, Immanuel,” he texted back.

EXTRA:

When Randall drove me back to my hotel from Tyson’s place I offered to put him up for the night so he wouldn’t have to drive 20 miles back home. We didn’t fuck but we played a bit and he let me take these shots:

11 thoughts on “Hollywood Swinging: Part II

  1. I think I'd keep in touch with Tyson. You never know when you and a few of your boys from the DMV might want to take a weekend trip to LA just to hangout, sight see and freak. I'm just saying……

  2. Pingback: Florida Swinging | CONFESSIONS OF A DOWN-LOW BROTHER: THE SEQUEL

  3. Pingback: Florida Swinging | CONFESSIONS OF A DOWN-LOW BROTHER: THE SEQUEL

  4. Pingback: The Seven Freakiest Professions | Confessions of a Down-Low Brother: The Sequel

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