I left Matt’s house that day with a strange sense of elation. We had crossed a line that most guys never cross, having sucked each other’s cocks and kissed like lovers, but while we had done something forbidden I didn’t feel we had done something wrong
. Exactly the opposite, in fact; it felt right
. We had tried to please each other sexually, which is what people should
do, isn’t it? The fact that we were both men seemed almost beside the point.
True, I had been unfaithful to my wife. That was wrong, and I didn’t try to convince myself that faithfulness was required only where other women were concerned. I had earned the guilt I knew I would eventually feel. But for now that guilt was completely overshadowed by the thrilling experience I had just had.
And it was
a thrill, I thought to myself as I drove away. Matt and I had been carried away, completely into
each other’s bodies, exploring every potential way of getting and giving pleasure. I hadn’t just sucked his dick and swallowed his cum, but I had put my tongue in his ass, something I’d never dreamed of doing to my wife, not even in my darkest, wildest fantasies. She and I had had a lot of great sex over the years, but I realized now that we had never abandoned ourselves to lust the way Matt and I had, and outside our few brief encounters we were complete strangers.
Maybe it’s only because
we were strangers, I thought, that we could let go like that. But rather than pursue that line of thought, interesting as it was, I returned to other thoughts -- the taste and feel of his balls, his cock, his lips, his ass, the way his hands and lips felt on me.
In seconds I could feel another hard-on starting to build, and I wished I could have stayed at his place a bit longer, and see where our excitement might take us next. But we had both been in a bit of a hurry to get back to work, and had had to settle for a promise to meet again as soon as we could.
That turned out to be harder than either of us thought. We made an appointment to meet a couple of days later, once again at his place, but I had to cancel because of a last-minute dustup at work. We arranged to meet the next day, a Friday, but this time he canceled because his wife got sick and stayed home. Which meant we would have to wait until the following week, because I couldn’t safely bring him my place. We discussed getting a motel room, but by the time we thought of that it was too late in the day to act.
That night my wife and I went to a movie that turned out to have a fairly hot sex scene. It was heterosexual, but it still got me thinking about Matt, and at dinner afterward it was a struggle to carry on a normal conversation with my wife. I was still horny when we got home, and was just about to come on to her when she decided she was too tired to do anything but go to bed.
When she had gone upstairs I opened the laptop and emailed Matt to see if he was still up, but he didn’t answer. I poured a drink, channel-flipped for awhile but finally got bored and decided to go to bed, too.
My dreams that night were weirdly sexual, sparked I guess by the sex scene in the movie and my constant fantasizing about Matt. At one point I woke up with a painful hard-on, and I would have jacked off right then and there if my wife hadn’t been stirring, possibly half-awake herself. I fell back into a restless sleep.
More sexual dreams. I don’t remember details, but they all seemed to involve cocks: cocks rubbing against my stomach and thighs, cocks in my hands, once a cock in my mouth. In my dreams I was always hard, constantly on the verge of cumming.
I woke with a start. It was still early; the light from outside was still dim and there was no sound.
As my head started to clear,I realized I had spooned my wife, and my hard-on was lying in the cleft of her buttocks. I realized, too, that she was pushing against me, pressing my cock. Whether she was awake or asleep I wasn’t sure; she didn’t say anything, and since she was facing away from me I couldn’t see whether her eyes were open. Her T-shirt -- she always sleeps in a long T-shirt, nothing else -- was pulled up above her waist: whether that was intentional or accidental, I coudn’t say.
I realized as well that the front of my pajamas were wet; I didn’t think I had come, but I was definitely leaking.
Gently, I ground my cock against her cheeks. She moved slightly to make a little room between them, and I knew she was at least half awake. I ground a little more and she let out a very quiet “mmm,” almost a whisper.
Carefully I lifted my hips and slid my pajamas down past my knees. As I did so she lifted her leg, a clear invitation to put my cock between her legs from behind. I shifted slightly to get a better angle, and laid it across her lower leg. She lowered the top leg again, and I could feel with the tip of my cock that she was wet, dripping wet. I saw her arm move, and next thing I felt her fingers on the tip of my cock. She pressed one finger against the slit -- which got a moan from me -- and push back and up. My cock slipped effortlessly between the swollen lips and right into her sopping pussy.
With this angle I could get only a couple of inches into her, so I tried to shift her hips slightly to improve it. She held firm, though; she didn’t want to do that, at least not yet.
I felt something shift, and I noticed her arm was moving. With a jolt I realized she was rubbing her clit with her free hand. Though I loved watching her do this she almost never did it, at least when I was around, so this was a thrill. Soon she was grinding her hips, and I realized she wanted to have me in her but not to come from fucking; she wanted to bring herself off with her hand.
“Okay,” I thought, delighted, “it’s your show.”
The grinding got more vigorous, and her breathing got more ragged, almost desperate. I was on the point of coming myself, but I did my best to hold back till she was ready.
The more vigorous her hip movements became, the harder it got for me to keep the tip of my cock inside her, given my awkward position at the back door, so to speak. Twice I slipped out, and each time she used the free hand to push me back in. When it happened a third time I thought she would push me in again, but instead she maneuvered the tip of my cock against her anus.
I expected her to pull away, but after a brief pause she pushed gently backward. I heard her take a breath, and then she pushed a little harder. I felt her tight little hole open slightly. She gave a little gasp, and pushed once more, and with another gasp the ring gave way. The head of my cock was inside her.
She paused. Her arm began to move rhythmically, and I knew she was working on her clit again. I felt an odd pressure against the tip of my cock, inside her ass, and I realized she was giving herself a finger-fuck. She pushed once more on my cock, and another inch slid in. Finally, after another pause, she gave a last push, and I went completely inside her.
I was stunned. Anal sex had never been on our menu; I couldn’t recall us even discussing it. But here we were, her tight ass impaled on my throbbing cock, her hand buried in her pussy, and both of us now moaning like animals.
I felt my balls begin to contract and my cock swell even further. I was seconds away from cumming. I held on as long as I could, hoping we could climax together, but soon I passed the point of no return. I pulled out just enough to gain some leverage, and then pushed backed in.
She cried out, not in pain but in ecstasy. I felt my cock gripped as if by a hand, and with a convulsive jerk she started to come. When the first wave hit I shot the first jet of jizz deep inside her, and each successive wave was matched by another shot from me. Five, six, seven times, probably more. The feeling was unbelievably, deliriously intense; I couldn’t ever remember cumming that hard with her.
During all this time she had had her back to me, of course, so I could not kiss her or even see the expression on her face. So after a few quiet minutes I pushed the hair away from her neck -- I had always loved her long, reddish-brown hair -- and kissed her on the neck. She turned to me and smiled, and we kissed again, more lovingly than we had in years.
When the kiss ended she pulled back a little to look at me, and it was only then I noticed how flushed she was. She turned away and buried her face in the pillow; I understood suddenly that she was embarrassed.
“Hey,” I whispered. “That was absolutely wonderful. And I love you.”
For a long time she said nothing. Finally she turned back to me.
“I love you,” she said. “But, well, I always thought that was disgusting, and kind of perverted.”
“But did it feel good?” I asked.
“It hurt at first,” she said, “but then not so much, and when I was… um… fingering myself with you inside me, it was, I don’t know, pretty intense.”
“It was for me, too,” I said. “And I don’t think it was disgusting or perverted. It just was
. And it was great
, even if you never want to do it again.”
She looked puzzled.
“Look, sweetie,” I said. “What was great about it was not so much what we did as the way we did it. We didn’t stop to think or discuss or analyze, we just did what felt good. We just went
with it. I don’t see how that can be wrong between two people who love each other.”
She gave me a little smile and kissed me again.
“Okay,” she said, and settled back into the sheets. “Now will you go get me a towel? I think I’m starting to leak.”
“Ms. Romance,” I said. “Sure.”
I got up. My cock was still semi-hard. I paused to face her, and trolled it slowly from side to side.
“You made him very happy,” I said.
She looked at me suggestively. “Go wash him off and I’ll make him happy again.” When I came back from the bathroom I handed her the towel and started to get back in bed.
“No, stand there,” she said. She spread the towel on the bed in front of me and sat down on it with her legs slightly apart. As she did so a trickle of cum went down her leg, and my cock gave a little twitch. I had told her we didn’t have to have anal sex again if she didn’t want to, but I’m damned if I didn’t hope we would.
For now, though, she had other ideas. “All clean?” she said.
Without a further word she took me in her mouth. She had always been pretty willing to suck my cock, but now she really did her best to please me. She swirled her tongue around the head, licked the underside of the shaft, bathed it with her tongue and took me as deep as she could manage, which for her was pretty deep.
Meanwhile she was playing with herself again. She rubbed her clit with the index finger of her right hand, and curled the first two fingers of the left hand into her cunt. I could tell she was getting into it because her attention to my cock flagged, it was still in her mouth but she wasn’t doing much with it.
Gently I pulled out, grasped it with my hand and started to jerk. She leaned back slightly and said, “Come on my tits.”
Glad to, I thought. I jerked slowly, hoping again to climax at the same time she did. After a minute or two she started to moan, so I speeded up slightly. My timing was perfect; just as she started to come I blasted on her tits, taking care to hit both nipples.
She was still jerking slightly from her orgasm, eyes closed, when the last drop of cum fell on her leg. I let go of myself, took her gently by the shoulders and lowered her to the sheets.
Earlier this morning she had surprised me. Now it was my turn to surprise her. Before her eyes had opened I lowered my lips to one nipple and started licking.
“Oh, my God,” she said. She had always loved it when I did this, but the thought that I was licking up my own cum must have turned her on even more, because she eagerly thrust herself into my mouth.
When that nipple was clean I went to the other, and again she thrust herself at me. When that one was clean I licked away the drops of cum that had fallen to the sides of her breasts and on her chest, and finally I went for that last drop that had fallen on her leg.
When I was done I put my arms under her legs, lifted them back onto the bed and lay down beside her. Then I kissed her, wondering if she could taste my cum on my lips.
“Well, that was a surprise,” she said, laughing a little. “I didn’t know you liked that.”
“Neither did I,” I said. “It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Have you ever tasted it before?”
“Well, I think most guys try a taste at least once,” I said. “And I’m a guy. But never that much.” Not of my own, anyway, I thought, remembering swallowing all of Matt’s cum just a couple of days earlier.
“Well,” she said after another long pause. “This certainly has been an interesting morning.”
“That it has,” I said.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/bisexual/it-started-in-the-steam-room-part-iv.aspx">It Started in the Steam Room (Part IV)</a>