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Whatever Gets You Through The Night

A middle age man discovers his true sexual nature. (Give it time to build)

What Ever Gets You Through The Night.

By Hotfeet

(All location references are to the UK)

 

I watched the surreal landscape pass by. A mixture of ghostly fields and towns, mixed with the near white blur of hedges and trees.   It was late January. The weather had suddenly changed from surprisingly mild, to a more seasonal frosty. After three hours on the train, I had become lost in my own thoughts.   I’d almost forgotten why I was journeying down south. My life at that moment had become this window and this seat. We crossed a road, and in a flash I saw a mother with her toddler on the child seat of her cycle. She was waiting for the train to pass. In the moment our eyes met, something in my unconscious made a connection with her, I wondered if she sensed the same feeling. I will never know.  

     We arrived in Birmingham around four. I soon found a taxi. And after some initial language difficulties, with the driver (His Asian/Brumy was fine it was my Geordie that caused the problem).   I reached the hotel   and picked up the key card for my reserved room.   My company had booked me into a twin room for the one day training course. I took the lift to the third floor, found room 312. I slid the card down the slot and nothing! Tried again, bit faster. Nothing!! I gave the card a good looking at and checked I had the right room number, all seamed ok. Tried again. Bingo, green light. The lights where already on when I entered the room. The maids left it on I presumed. I dropped my bag down near the first single bed. Turned to put the key card on the counter, and was shocked to see one there already. I swung round and saw a pair of jeans on the floor between the beds. Then the strange watery sound that had permeated the air without my conscious thought, stopped! And I heard a cough. Some instinct almost triggered me to hide as the bathroom door opened. Out came this man of around 50, medium height and build, a good head of grey hair. “Oh Hi!” He said quite casually.

  “What.” I said in gobsmacked surprise.

“Hi! I‘m Chris.”

“What!” I said again, now I was getting repetitive.

“I’m Chris. I presume where sharing.”   I nearly said what again, but thought better of it.

“You must be here for the training.”

“Yes.” I said.

“Doesn’t your itinerary say you’re in a twin room?”

“Yes but I presumed... well it makes sense I suppose, it’s a bit cheaper.” I filled in.

“Yeah.” said Chris.

  He looked relaxed in himself as he sat on the edge of the second bed. He wore loose boxers, and a tee shirt cut back of the shoulders.

“Well if you’re staying, get your coat and shoes off, you look like you’ve travelled a bit.”

“Yeah suppose so.” I did as Chris suggested. And sat on what had become my bed.

“Well I’m Phil” and I held my hand across and Chris shook it.

“You sound like your from the north east.”

“Yeah can’t hide it.”

“ You come in car.”

“ No on train.” I said.

“Good idea in this foul weather.” Said Chris.  

He rubbed his neck with the towel. My eyes strayed down to an exposed testicle poking out of his boxers. A little embarrassed I evaded my gaze and unzipped my bag and took out my toiletries.

“I’ll make us a drink.” said Chris.

“Oh yeah that would be great, I’ll go and freshen up.” I couldn’t help another glance at his stray testicle before I stood up.

“Coffee for me please.” And I went in the bathroom. Chris had left a few towels and his shirt laid around. “Sorry about the mess.” I heard Chris say. I started the shower and got undressed. I stepped in the cubicle expecting anything but pleasant fine warm water but that’s what I got. That’s surprising for a hotel shower, I thought. The warm water bathed over me and washed away my tensions. I filled my palms with shower gel from the dispenser, and massaged my skin but I found myself lingering over my groin. That familiar ache deep in my balls. Then the first twitch of my cock coming to life then first swell into the inevitable transformation from flaccid penis, to the solid hard cock. There I was just in thin wall away from a man who I had only met minutes ago. Who’s genitals had had sparked my now raging hard on. I reasoned to myself. I’m a happily married man, with an ok sex life. Why was I now lusting over the site of a testicle? It’s probably the stimulation of the shower after the tedium of the journey. Just a normal arousal effect. Nothing to do with this mans balls. A quick wank, and I would get relief, then I could put these thoughts behind me. Just at that confused moment, Chris calls:  

“Coffee’s ready.”

  Quickly I dry off and go back into the room just in my jockey shorts and tee shirt; I have my back turned to Chris looking in my bag for my fresh slacks.

“Wow! They’re zazy.”

  He says as he turns and see’ s my jockeys’ with the gold and red zigzags’.

“Yeah, Christmas.” You know what it’s like.

Chris had dressed while I was showering. We have our drinks and chat a bit about our backgrounds. I’m married with two grown children. My sons at Uni. doing business studies. My daughters married with two kiddies, a boy and girl both pre school. Chris is separated some five years. Never got round to getting divorced. He has a son who works in Zambia at the moment. Some kind of crane driver on oil rigs. Says he’s having the time of his life, travels all over the world, plenty of money and time off. Lucky bastard. We agree.

Chris says,   “I’m off for a smoke.”

“I don’t.” I say.

        When he’s gone I lay back on my bed. Despite the cold outside the rooms a little to hot so I crack the window open. Next thing I wake with a start, look at my watch, half an hour has past. Chris isn’t back. Better go for something to eat. There’s a restaurant in the hotel. But I remember seeing a Chinese on the main street of this suburb of Birmingham.

  As I pass through the lobby I look across to the bar, but can’t see Chris. There are plenty of younger men, making a lot noise with sudden bursts of laughter. Maybe their here for the training. It is after all a younger man course. Methods and practices, for a new paint system. I ‘m the supervisor over a large paint shop, we specialise in large custom built vehicles. Tankers and low loaders and the like. We can’t spare the men off the shop floor at the moment, not that they need any training. Any new paint systems take about half an hour for them to adjust to. I stopped spraying paint myself 10 years ago. But still know enough to pass on anything relevant.

    There’s a revolving door opposite the reception desk. I push through it and the chill immediately hits me. Should I have put a sweater on I think. Then wham! My foot go’ s from underneath me. And I’m on my back half down a broad single step. Then from somewhere Chris is there squatting beside me with a hand under my shoulder saying: “You alright mate.”

I’m laid awkward halfway down this step. He guides me to my feet. We manoeuvre arm in arm though the disabled entrance. The receptionist leaps up when we stagger in.

“What’s happened.” she says.

Chris explains about the icy step.

“Please sit him down, do you need an ambulance.”

“ No, I’ll be alright in a moment or two.” (I play it down to try and lesson the attention I am attracting)

“I’ve been asking the porters to grit those steps.” Says the receptionist.

  The duty manager arrives from the back office and is all fawning apologies.

  I say “I was just going out for a bite to eat.” As if I need an excuse as to why I was using the doors.

“I’m feeling much better.”   And prove it by standing and walking about.

“Still” Says the manager “We need to fill out an incident form, its hotel company policy.”

Afterwards and by way of appeasement the manager says:

  “Would you and your friend like to dine hear tonight, on the house, of coarse, with drinks included.”

  I start to say. “He is not my friend.”   But realise that is not important, and accept on Chris’s behalf. “You wait in the bar Chris and I’ll go change my wet trousers.”

  Back in the room I survey my injury in the bathroom mirror. There’s a bit of a graze on my left side and onto my bottom. I’m a bit sore but I’ll survive. When I get back down to the bar, Chris has a table with a couple of whiskeys ready.

“What’s the damage.” he says.

“ Oh not so bad, bit of a graze. I used to get worse every Saturday when I played football.”

”I bet that was 20 years ago.” He quips.

“More like 30.” I say.

Chris said. “I’ve checked at the bar we’ve got a free tab.”

“ Not bad. Must try going arse over tit more often, when I go to a hotel.”

“Yeah.” Chris says with a laugh in his voice. “Why not throw yourself downstairs and get a free week.”

“Have all the other lads in the bar gone.” I enquire.

“Yeah right, mostly gone to the city centre to find a club.”

“Oh I suppose they would, not for me.” I say.

“Yeah, nor me either.”

        It was 8.30. So we went through to the dining room. We were expected and ushered to a table at the back. There was a birthday party in, so I was glad to be away from them, I’ve been in those parties myself, and by the end of the night it can get a bit raucous.   We got on well together, with a few mutual interests, wildlife, spectator sports, adventurous sex (hopeful anyway). Neither of us was very political. Chris said he shouldn’t really be on this training as he was the parts manager at a large franchised garage. He just filled the place as the paint sprayer who was booked on the coarse had to drop out, due to home difficulties.

  Chris was also delivering a truck windscreen down this way so an overnight stay and a skive off for a day seamed like a good idea.

“So you’re driving.” I said.

“Yeah, got the new demonstrator van from our sales department.”

It was getting on for eleven o’clock by the time we finished our meal and drained the second bottle of wine.

“Do you want to go to the bar?”

“No,” Chris said, “I’ll go outside for a smoke then head up.”

“See you back in the room then.” And we went our own ways.

I went back to the room and turned on the TV. The regional weather was just coming on. Within a few minutes Chris came in.

“Looks like the weathers going to get worse tomorrow mate.” I informed him as he came in.

“Well it’s my day off the day after tomorrow so I don’t have to rush back and they can pay for another night’s accommodation, I’m not killing myself on the motorway.”

“Don’t blame you Chris, but I’ve got the room for tomorrow night anyway so if you have to stay I don’t suppose the hotel will notice if you stay another night in here.”

“OK cheers,” said Chris. “Anyway how’s your arse mate.”

“What!”   (Note to self. stop saying “what” all the time) Oh! OK really, a bit sore.”

“Let’s have a look. I want to know if it was worth a free fifty quid’s worth of food and drink.”

  I loosened my belt and eased the down my jeans. “I can’t see out there, take your jeans off and lay on the bed.”

  “ OK.” I said reluctantly. I lay there face down a bit embarrassed.

“Wow! Them zany underpants again, it’s hard to focus your eyes.”

“Yeah yeah, just have a look and satisfy yourself.”

  “It’ll take more then a look to do that.” He quipped.

He eased my underpants down a little on my left side. “Oh! He exclaimed. You got a decent graze there; an you’ll probably have a big bruise by morning. If we put a cold towel on, it may reduce the bruising.”

  “Whatever.” I grumbled my response. Whether it was the wine loosening my pride or Chris’s uninhibited attitude making me a relaxed I don’t know, but I lay there waited for this private treatment. Chris came back with a bundled up towel.

“Right, pull your flashy pants down.”

  I complied and now was feeling a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Chris said obviously picking up on demeanour. He held the damp towel against my injury.

“That does feel soothing.”   I told him. He must have squeezed the towel a little and it released a trickle of water that run down the crack of my bottom and onto my balls.   The shock of the cold water made me jolt and excite me enough to make my cock stiffened to semi hard. Now I was getting uncomfortable. Not just my semi hard cock bent under my pelvis, my head was reeling with uncomfortable thoughts, thoughts I have never entertained before. Something in me was telling me this man administering this cold compress to my bruise, this man was not uncomfortable with this situation, he was relaxed with another mans body.   By now his spare hand had found its way to my upper leg, and was kneading the soft fleshy skin on my inner thigh. I had no option but to raise my bottom slightly higher and release my now fully erect cock to a painless but still aching position upright against my belly. Chris obviously noticed my adjustment, and made a quiet little acknowledgement sound. Sort of a Hnuh! sound. He knew what he was doing and he knew I was responding. Suddenly I blurted out.

  ”Are you gay.”

  He made another involuntary sound, sort of “Unh!”

  Then said “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”

  “What would say then?”

  Then he gave me a summery of his sexual status:

  “Well I’ve been separated for some years now; I’ve had a few girlfriends since my wife, where the sex was more regular. But I was never lucky enough for it to turn into a relationship. Unless you’re in a relationship, sex becomes a sporadic thing. Sex out of a relationship is just gratification sex; it’s not a union between lovers. Man needs animal sexual gratification, If not from his partner he will gratify himself.”

I sympathized with a Mmn sound, (My hard on was diminishing by now.) Chris carried on: “Sometimes in these lean periods if you come across a man who is willing to help satisfy an urge, well why not is what I think. Two people giving each other what they need, man/woman, man/man or woman/woman, whatever. As long as we all get what we need, what harm is done. That’s why I don’t go with labels like gay, straight or bi. It’s just,   (Whatever gets you through the night)   As Lennon said.”

By now the quilt beneath me was getting wet, from the trickles of water “I’ll have to move mate; I’m laid in the proverbial wet patch.”

“Hah! Sorry pal.” Says Chris.

  I ease myself around, now   facing Chris, and feeling a little silly, with just a shirt and socks on, laid in a hotel room exposing my genitalia to a man whom I have only known for a few hours just had dinner with and who is sexually exciting me. This must rank as the most bizarre situation I have ever been in.

“You got a bit of a semi on there Phil, Maybe you’re up for a spot of no strings fun.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m happily married.” I slightly stammer.

  “Well I’m not after commitment, or to make anybody unhappy just a bit of mutual fun would do no harm.” Chris says defensively.

Then he goes to the bathroom. My head is all over. Do I want to do this, in fact what is it I am considering doing. I raise my head and see Chris look round the bathroom door, I nod at him and his face broadens to a cheeky grin.

“I knew as soon as I touched your leg you’d be up for it.”

  “Am I that easy to see through?” I said.

He came back in the room just in his jockeys. I was shaking a little inside.

Chris perceptive as ever said: “just lay face down on the dry bed and I’ll give you a massage till you relax.”

  I unbuttoned my shirt and lay as instructed. Chris knelt along side me and rubbed his warm hands into the small of my back and up my spine and around my shoulders then down my sensitive sides onto my hips. I murmured softly and Chris took encouragement from my murmurings and straddled over my bottom on his haunches and rested back until he was sitting astride me. He carried on the massage.   I started to relax a little and enjoy the stimulating sensation. I pushed my hand under my hip and adjusted my now stiffened cock. Chris had now taken my bum cheeks in each hand and manipulated them skilfully like a masseur. A little panic overtook me when I realised my anus was now exposed to another mans eyes, the one part of me that seemed more private then my genitals.   My anus puckered as Chris’s thumbs traced dangerously close. But then sensing my apprehension, he moved on and started working on my inner thighs letting his fingers brush against my balls. Butterflies are fluttering in my chest.

“Does that feel good Phil?”

“Feels great.” I retort.

He runs his hand around my right hip and realising his intension I raise my hip slightly to ease his progress. Instead of reaching for my cock as I expect, he lifts my hip slightly signalling me to turn over. Chris rises off my pined down legs. I swivel round now facing him I can see his cheeky grin, the white hair on his chest and the bulge in his shorts. He sits back onto my legs, leaving me totally exposed and at his mercy.

“Don’t worry mate it’s just harmless fun.” Chris says. But it doesn’t quell my nerves.

Firm but gentle hands glide up my thighs and press deeply into my groins then trailing around and cupping my balls with his open hand runs his fingers up under my shaft to the tip of my aching cock. All the fingers on his right hand run one by one over the eye of my cock, his thumb under and fingers over he slides his hand down over my swollen member, slowly his right hand reciprocates up and down, while his left caresses my balls,

“Whohhh!” I utter. I almost want him to beat his hand up and down and relieve this glorious torture. Just to expel my seed seams the only thing on my mind. His rhythm is slow, almost ponderous. After several strokes he bends forward and takes the bulbous end between his lips and engulfs it, his tongue underneath and teeth just scrape over the top of my cock till I’m pressing on the roof of his mouth, the powerful urge to thrust is almost overwhelming then I feel the inevitable rush deep in my shaft and the last minute tingle before I shoot my pulsing load into the back of his throat.

Chris releases my slackening cock with a wet plop, and leans back.

As I subside from the high, the guilt of what I have done hits me.

“Chris, sorry pal, I couldn’t stop my self Cumming.”

“Did you like it mate?” Says Chris still with a grin on his face.

“Chris, I haven’t felt a rush like that for years. Like the buzz I felt in the back of a car when I was a teenager.”

He lifts off me and lies along side.

“But Chris I’m so sorry I cum in your mouth.”

“Don’t worry; it’s not the fist time or the last I hope.”

“It was the first time for me, not even with my wife would I consider such a thing.”

“This is fun, no strings sex, anything goes as long as long as where both consenting.”

“Wow though, it was something else.” I say.

  I am still feeling a little high on this new experience. But the dawning realisation that two people need satisfaction sinks in. Well in for a penny in for a pound I think.   I place my hand on Chris’s bulge in his shorts. His thick shaft feels good through the cotton, I stroke down to his swollen balls tight in his sack and lift them slightly, Chris moans in acknowledgment to my touch. Encouraged by the sounds he’s emitting. I grasp the waistband of his shorts and ease them down, his cock springs loose quite near my face as I pull them over his legs, Chris assists a little and kicks them away. Apart from adult movies It is the first time I have seen another mans cock raised for action. A bit thicker them mine, skin taught and smooth on the purple head, I know there’s only one thing on its little mind and that’s to cum.

Not knowing the routine, I am a bit hesitant but I grab the base of his cock with one hand and the loose skin below the purple end and slowly pump, it is soon evident that his dryness is not helping, lubrication is in order. Saliva is the only thing for it. Shuffling down until I am facing Chris’s manhood,

I feel more flutterings in my chest. The heat and slight odour hits me first but is not distracting. I place my lips on top of his cock, so far so good, pushing on, his blood engorged end parts my lips with ease, I soon engulf the first stage as my lips cup behind the rib. My tongue is pushed downward and tingles to the to the texture. I feel a slight gag response as his cock fills my mouth. So I pullback, my lips close over the tip, now lubricated the action is very slick. In and out I start to bob up and down now getting the rhythm. Wet sounds emanate from my mouth as I gobble Chris. Still holding the base of his cock and balls with my left hand I release him from my mouth and wank him with deep wet strokes, like I’ve seen the girls in the porn movies do.

“ Yeah, yeah yeah.” Chris utters,

Chris’s reactions tell me I must be doing alright especially when he places his hands on the back of my head to encourage me to suck his cock again. I see a bead of cum on the eye so I lick it off, Quite pleasant I think, instead off engulfing him again I run my open mouth down the underneath of the shaft until I encounter his balls which I partially suck in and moisten with my tongue.

“You’re good.” He says.

I   don’t speak   because now I am sucking him again for all I’m worth, He’s thrusting back, his hands are clasped around my head, I sense a welling inside him, I know he has reached the point of no return.

I can’t bring my self to suck him completely off, so I deep wank him again until he blows off his first spurt off cum. Shooting onto my shoulder, then arm, then hands and fingers till I am massaging his own cum into his pulsing shaft.

“Boy oh boy, are you sure you’re a novice at this game.” He says.

“I just did what seamed natural, I suppose.”

“Naturally.” He says a little breathlessly.

I shuffle back up and rest my head on the pillow. It’s a bit cramped for two men on a single bed but we manage, just.

We pillow talk for a while. But I can feel his cum drying on my skin. So I say:

“I’m going for a shower.”

I’ve been in the shower for a minute or two. Chris cracks open the screen door and through the steam I can see him stood there naked.

“Do you want a shower buddy?”

This is getting a bit intense, I’m thinking.

“Ok.” I say a little apprehensively.

Chris steps in. it’s a little cramped again like the bed. I am already covered in shower gel. So as Chris’s body gets wet our hips and middle age paunches press and slide together in a sensual slither. Chris applies liberal shower gel to himself, and rubs even more onto my already lubricated body, until we are writhing together in a slippery embrace, our now stiffened cocks joust and entwine. It feels like the most intense embrace I have ever felt. Chris’s hand comes down and seams to melt deliciously into my groin and balls. I do the same to him and in our mad double grope, we both cum together grunting and moaning in wild abandonment.

Reality comes back in and the warm water bathes and sooths washing away the intensity of the past moments.

We step out the shower our bodies tingling from the stimulation both of us are giggling like children. We towel off and flop on our respective beds exhausted.

             I wake at 3.00am. feeling chilled, and naked lying on the wet quilt. Chris is sound asleep tucked up in his bed.   What have I done, what came over me, and what sordid depraved acts have I indulged in. although it was the most exciting thing I have done for years. Is that bad? I ask myself.   Of coarse it’s bad. I was with a man, that means I’m gay, I’m not gay, just very confused. I wasn’t confused when I set off from home this morning. Chris has turned me gay. What do I tell my wife when I go home?

“Hello luv. The course was boring but on the plus side had a wild night of sex with a man. What’s for dinner?   I may go out later to a gay bar.”

  My head chewed it over for I don’t know how long.   The next thing a male voice was coming into my head.

  “Phil! Phil! Wake up, its 7.30, breakfast at 8.00.”

  Everything came back to me in a rush. Chris was up and making coffee in his shorts. (Sorry for that pun.)   I swung my legs out the bed, my head was pounding, my hip ached, my knob was sore and I generally felt shit. Chris on the other hand looked and sounded bright as a button.  

“Right mate, lets have a drink, and get down for breakfast, and then we’re set up for this training lark.”

“Breakfast!” I repeated back. ”I feel a bit queasy.”

“You’ll be fine.” He chirped.

They were a few fragile looking bodies in the breakfast area. The result of clubbing I suspected. Chris got a Full English, I settled for toast.

“Have a good time last night, eh!”

“Yeah, sure was different.” I Said.

“Well, different is good isn’t it, and nobody was harmed were they?”

(Only physically and mentally I thought.)   “Yeah.” I agree. “But I couldn’t keep that pace up, I’d be a wreck.”

“Neither could I.” Chris retorts. “I’m not some sort of rampant gay sexual predator. Last night was probably a one off. We had an understanding, some kind of mental connection. It’s rare for me as well you know.”

I had to admit to myself, it was easy for me to get along with Chris. Not exactly a soul mate, but something near. Maybe because he was a stranger who I would never see again, I felt able to talk to him about things that I normally kept guarded about.

           After breakfast, we assembled outside with several other men. The coach arrived at 9.15 and took us to the paint factory. We where given delegate badges, Chris had a badge for a Dave Robson, the man who’s place he had taken.

“Have you got a pen?” Said Chris.

“Yeah sure.” And I handed him my cartridge pen.

“This is a bit special.”

“Yeah, a 50 th birthday present from my daughter.”

Chris crossed out Dave Robson, and inserted his own name. We were shown to a large board room with coffee and tea set out for 30 or more delegates, we milled around getting to know each other. Then we were seated and where given a power point presentation on new products and health and safety.   After that, an equipment manufacturer showed us there latest breathing apparatus. A very comprehensive buffet lunch was brought in, (which I was ready for after my meagre breakfast).   After lunch we where taken to the training area of the factory and told to put on white overhauls and given goggles. First was a demonstration on paint mixing.   Afterwards we were given individual paint formulas, that we had to mix ourselves. This is all second nature to me being my job for most of my life. Chris on the other hand found it a bit testing, but to his credit the resulting colour mix he achieved was as good as mine when checked under various light conditions. In contrast to his success in the mixing room, his attempts at paint spraying where atrocious. The range of faults he achieved on his test panel was spectacular. The instructor said he would keep it as a training aid for the future. That done at 4.15 we where escorted to the coach through near snow blizzard conditions.   On the journey back there was much laughing and talking about the hi-light of the day which of coarse was Chris’s botched spray job. In his unmoved relaxed fashion he announced to the bus that, “He was glad to have taken the heat of all you other useless bastards.”

      Back in the room we flopped on our respective beds.

“Are you driving back tonight in this weather Chris?”

“Well it’s my day off tomorrow, so there’s no rush.”

“Why not stay another night. As I said before, the rooms paid for, and then you have all Friday to travel back.”

“OK” Said Chris decisively. “Lets get cleaned up and changed and go out for a drink and a meal.”

“Great. “   I was looking forward to the male company. I work in a male environment, but I don’t socialise with colleagues. And going to bars and clubs has never been my thing. Also the thought of fooling around later like we had the previous night was utmost on my mind.   We visited a couple of pubs, then for an Indian curry, followed by more beers. And generally put the world to rights. Unsteadily on the frozen pavement we padded our way back at the hotel. I reminded Chris that he wasn’t officially a guest tonight.

“Ooh!, better sneak up the fire escape then.” He joked.

We almost slipped on the over use of grit on the hotel step.

  Drunkenly we launched through the revolving door. The startled receptionist immediately

recognised me from last night.

“How are you Mr Jackson, have you recovered from your tumble?”

“Just a little bit unsteady on my feet still.”

“Yes I can see. Have you had a good night?”

Best head for the lift as quick as possible, I Thought.   “Err yes thank you, err, goodnight then.”

“Good night.” She called back.

“I think we got away with that.” I tittered as we stumbled into the lift.

       “Phew!”   I gasped, quickly shedding my coat onto the chair. The room was stifling hot again.

“I can hear the news flash now”:- (“Root cause of global warming discovered to be a hotel room in Birmingham England.”)

“There’s a thermostat here on the wall.” Said Chris.

“No need for that, lets dress accordingly for the temperature. ” I started to unbuckle my belt.

“OK, last one naked is on drinks duty.”   Chris challenged.

With much hopping around and stumbling in our semi inebriated state, Chris beat me by a sock.

“One sugar for me.” Claimed the victor.

I felt vulnerable pouring steaming water, trying not to cause a splash.

“ Arrrh, My own slave for the night.” Said Chris from his recumbent position on the bed.

“Hold on mate, the deal was for a cup of tea.”

“No. The loser does whatever duties the winner wants. Is what we agreed.”

“You’re taking advantage of my drink addled brain.” I said putting the drinks down on the table next to Chris’s bed.

“Just fetch me one of those little packets of biscuits. Slave.” And he pated my bottom.

“You’ve gone to far buddy! “ I exclaimed and quickly grabbed his hand, but as I did Chris got hold of my wrist and pulled, I was taken off balance and fell across him. We mock battled on the bed until arousal took over. Chris worked his way down my body and quickly engulfed my swollen cock deep into his mouth. Then he released me and swung around until we were in a 69. I felt his hands on my balls, and then his wet lips and tongue massage and manipulate my cock. Static electricity seamed to run down my shaft into my groin then up my spine until goose pimples formed on my back and hips. I swallowed in Chris’s cock as he had mine with one hand caressing his balls and the other on the base of his cock, my mouth lapping and sucking his sensitive knob end. I could feel his cock charged with the power of a man on a mission. We both started thrusting a little until the urgency to cum built up inside me. Chris had his hands on my arse urging me on. I pulled back to the tip of his cock then sucked it deep in again. The wet slobbering sounds we were making just enhanced the erotic thrill. The deep signal triggered in me, there was no way Chris was releasing me so I pumped his mouth with wild abandon letting go my cum in several jets onto his tongue and throat. Then I turned my attention back to Chris’s cock and sucked and licked with renewed vigour, until I sensed the first small spasm, I knew what was coming but I couldn’t bring myself to take his load, despite what had just happened I released him from my mouth just as he shot a wad splat onto my lips and chin, I continued wanking out more cum onto my neck and shoulder, until his cock was spent and relaxing in my grip. The taste of his cum was on my lips so I licked a little more off and savoured it like a wine taster, not to bad I’m thinking, maybe next time I might go for the full monty. God I’m already thinking of next time. In just a day I’ve turned from regular family man to a cum slut.

“How was that?” Says Chris.

“What an erotic high” I Answer. ” You sure do cum a lot.”

“There’s more where that come from, just let me drink my tea first.”

I drank my coffee. Then feeling a little sticky from my cum dousing. I said. “I’m going for a shower.”

Chris never joined me in the shower, and I soon realised why. He was sound asleep, naked on top of the quilt. Knowing how cold it gets in the early hours, I found the spare blankets and covered him up. Then retired myself and was spark out till the morning.

         Being a large hotel with a buffet style breakfast it went by unnoticed that Chris wasn’t booked in.   During breakfast Chris said he would give me a lift to the train station. The weather was still bad, but we managed to make it by 10.45. My train was scheduled for 11.00 am. We parked in a 30 minute drop off and pick up zone.

“I’ll see you off.” Said Chris.

The announcement came over the speakers:

  “All scheduled departures are delayed by one hour due to frozen points.”

  I checked at the ticket office, my train had a new departure time of   12.05.

“Lets go for a coffee.” Chris said.

“No need for you to wait, you’ve got to drive home in this weather.” I said.

“I’m in no rush, besides I’ve only about 100 miles to do and the motorway will probably be clear.”

“OK, if you’re sure, let’s go for a drink.”

The Café was full of other delayed passengers, so we got a takeout.

“We can go back to the van and put the heater on.” Said Chris.

So back in the van I’m looking round, I say “This is stylish.”

“Yeah like I said, It’s our sales demonstrator, top of the range.”

“Looks like you’ve got a bed in the back.”

“No,” said Chris,   “It’s the dust covers and padding from transporting the windscreen.”

“Looks like a bed to me.” I said with a wink.

Next thing, we were in the back of the van naked in our favourite 69 position.

“You learn quickly.” He said.

“Shut up and suck its cold in here and we’ve only got half an hour.”

“OK, if that’s how you want to play it, but your going to take my load if were making demands.” Chris said with an evil growl to his voice.

I gulped as best I could, because at that moment Chris started to face fuck me.

I in turn engulfed his cock, in my eager mouth. We pistoned each other like a fucking, sucking, slobbering, grunting machine.   Ten minutes of this action, an I was near popping, Chris pulled back slightly, like the quiet moment before a tsunami hits, then he thrust deep to the back of my throat, with a gush the first wave of cum exploded into my mouth, I almost gagged then the second gush came and all I could do was swallow and more came. Hot, salty, tangy & textured cream filled my mouth. The effect on my senses triggered my own orgasm, which I let go of with abandon, and pumped Chris’s mouth full of the same.

“Whooohh! “   We uttered together. “That’s some send off for the journey.” I said.

We drunk our still hot drinks and laughed together.

“This has been a life changing trip.” I said.

“Don’t get all deep about it; it is just a bit of lust, something that slips away in a long term relationship like yours. Come on.” Chris said. “Time for your train.”

        As the train sped north, my thoughts turned to my wife. I’ve been unfaithful to her. Not with a women though. Does that count I reasoned. No, if I make love with another woman, that’s unfaithful. What I did with a man was just lust, sex is all it was. Very gratuitous sex is all it was. There was no love involved. If a man masturbates on is own he isn’t being unfaithful. So if another man helps him in his masturbation, that can’t be being unfaithful, I reasoned.   I felt my conscience was fairly clear, maybe a little muddied. Then the train passed over a road crossing. There, was the same young women I had seen on my outward journey. The one with the toddler on the back of her cycle. She was crossing the other way this time. As our eyes met for the second time in three days. I swear I could see a flash of betrayal in them.   Just my paranoia I suspect, or is there an unconscious connection between souls. These are secrets only to be revealed to us on death. Train journeys give you too much time to think…………….?

         I had fallen asleep, and woke up with a start as the train tannoy system announced we were arriving in my home town. I arrived home at tea time.

“Hello!” I called, as I came in the front door.

“Hi!” Lynn called back from the kitchen.

“Had a good time?” She said as we greeted.

“Well the training course was pointless. But I had a good night out with one of the other chaps.”

“Good. You don’t get enough male company.”

“Well, it was just a one off. I’m not much into socializing.”

“You boring old man. Oh!   That reminds me, someone named Chris called. Said he had your pen and would return it two weeks this Friday, as he is making a delivery up this way. He sounded a real nice fella; he said you two got on alright. His he the chap you had a night out with.”

“Yeah, but how did he get our telephone number?”

“He said from directory enquiries. He’s staying up this way on that Friday, That’s the same night I’m going to see my sister. You two ought to have a night out together.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You boring old fart. You said you got on alright with him.”

“I know, but I’m not one for going out.”

“Please yourself.   But his mobile numbers on the pad. He could stay in our spare room if he wanted a bed for the night. What’s up with you now, you’ve gone pale.”

“Sorry, I just felt a tingle run down my spine. Yeah, suppose so. It will get me through a quiet night while you’re away.

END

 

 

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