I pull up to this guy’s house on a well-to-do crescent and park right in front of his house, because he didn’t tell me otherwise. If the neighbours are watching, I could be anybody. Maybe I’m selling insurance.
I’m here for sex.
He answers the door. He’s 5ft tall, tan skinned, with jet-black short curly hair in a receding hairline. Like me, he’s in his mid-thirties. Middle eastern? Brazilian maybe? I dunno. I’m bad at this. All I know is that I feel safe to have my wallet in my pocket, because if he terrorist-bombs me it won’t matter anyway. We greet each other and I walk into his beautiful foyer, with its white stone tiles. A marble table holds up family photo. Him and his two young girls, all of them embracing his beaming wife. Today, the wife and daughters are away visiting family in her home country. They’re gone long enough that his kids are attending school there. In the meantime, he’s taking full advantage.
Yeah, we chatted a little before this.
“Would you like a beer? Pop?” he asks me.
“Um, no thanks, I’m good.” I drop my coat on top of my shoes by the door. It took 40 minutes to drive here, and the Rush, the Evil Thing inside me that propels me, is subsiding. But I can’t back out now. “Can I use your washroom?”
He smiles and leads me upstairs, into his giant master bedroom. It’s dominated by his king-sized bed, neatly made with a gray comforter. It even has the extra little pillows on it. My god, the one time my wife was gone for a few days, our bed got to be so full of crap that I slept on the couch.
I piss in his spacious bathroom, and carefully wash my hands. I dry my dick off in his face towel.
When I emerge, he’s lying on the bed in his boxers, seductively. On the 60″ flatscreen in the corner, a grunting muscle-man pounds his manhood into a young twink, who emits moans of ecstasy. Maybe pain.
He invites me to lay down beside him. I strip down to my underwear, and sink into the luxurious pillow-top mattress. I’ve got to get one of these someday. It’s so relaxing. He reaches over and rubs my pecs, massages my belly. By the time he gets down there, my boner presses against the fabric of my SAXX briefs.
Soon we’re both naked. I’m not disappointed. I usually only see guys in their 20s, but I made an exception today when he sent a photo of his 8” uncut dick. From the neck down, he’s miraculously lean and shaved smooth as any twink, and he sits, eyes locked on my own penis, slowly stroking his own shaft. I reach over and soon we’re both feeling each other. Temptation sets in. We move in closer, and soon our dicks are touching, rubbing, oozing wetness and spreading it around on our cock heads.
He presses forward and I fall onto my back under him. I can smell his hot breath and we explore each other. I run my hands down his back and squeeze his ass. His tan skin is smoother than his silk sheets, hairless everywhere. He moves down my body slowly, breathing in my scent, and then I feel my penis slide into the hot wet softness between his lips. He sucks me slowly, and I moan and gasp for him. I know what I like so I do the same for him. I grab his head and hold him there and make him worship me. But the pressure builds in my balls. They ache for release, so I stop him.
“It’s your turn,” I tell him. He grins and flips over onto his back. I get on top of him in the 69 position, and inhale his smooth cock. I push down like a snake gorging itself on an unlucky meal. My oesophagus is full, stretched open. I feel like retching, but I tell myself not to. It works. Instead, I swallow more, massaging this massive thing in my throat.
“Oh my god,” he says in surprise. He grabs my body and we flip. I’m on my back again, staring up at his perineum. He slowly fucks my face, plunging down further and further while he sucks on my balls. I reach down and prop up my dick, and he quickly gets the idea and slurps it up again.
On the TV, another muscle man fucks another twink, going through the same dance as before. This one likes it more; he keeps shouting “Harder!” as he receives his pounding.
As far as I know, 69 is usually just a warm up. But for me it’s ecstasy. Sucking and being sucked, sharing the same sensations, the wordless feedback between two bodies and minds. I can keep it going as long as I want, but the after a few minutes the time seems right for it to end.
I swing my knee up and we flip once again, and I’m pressing into his mouth. I feel the pressure build from deep inside me, and I start to fuck. The twink on TV is getting shredded now, his moans reduced to high pitched barks of pain. I’m can’t control it anymore. I plunge in, thrusting wildly until I spasm and pump out a dozen shots right down his throat. Suddenly feeling heavy, I press down with my weight, squeeze his curly hair between my thighs and make him eat it all. I pull out slowly so he can suck me clean.
His penis has been lodged in my throat the whole time. When I lift off I see his shrinking down already, a tiny drop of white glistens at the tip. Shit, we came at the same fucking time and I didn’t even notice.
“That was a lot,” he says, wiping his chin with his wrist.
“Sorry,” I lie.
“No, it was good,” he says, grinning. He taps the pillow. “Lie down, stay awhile.”
I lay back. It’s nice, but the Evil thing is gone now, and I can’t relax. I stare at the ceiling, and we chat about our kids, our wives, and our lives. He had a long term thing going with a guy, but they had to break it off recently. The other man was starting to get too serious, buying clothes and gifts for him that were making it difficult to hide.
“I love her with all my heart, but you can’t get this,” he tells me, waving at my cock.
Yeah. I know.