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It Started in the Steam Room (Part II)

After a chance encounter with a man in a public place, I follow up with a visit to his home
Although it had taken me two weeks to come around to the idea of emailing Matt, I was inexplicably impatient to hear back from him. I checked my inbox obsessively for several hours, so often my wife asked me what I was waiting for. I mumbled some evasive answer (“Lying to her already,” I thought with shame), and forced myself not to look at my phone for nearly two hours. 

When it finally seemed safe to have another look, Matt’s response was waiting:

“Hi, Chris. Thanks very much for writing. I had just about given up hope that you would. I was afraid you had decided I was some weird exhibitionist cruising the gym for guys to hit on. Please believe me, I’m not like that. I’m a married guy, always been straight, but lately I’ve been so horny and when I saw you alone in the steam room something just came over me. I swear that was the first time I did anything like that.”

So I was right about the ring; he was married.

I thought several minutes before responding.

“Matt: To tell you the truth, at first I did think you might be some kind of gay stalker. But that was before I remembered you had a wedding ring on. I was so confused at first that it slipped my mind. When I did remember it, though, my head kind of cleared and I thought, well, maybe he’s in the same boat as I am.”

Matt’s reply was quick:

Chris: I’m in the boat with the married guys who love their wives but are bored with their sex lives and wanted to try something different. Is that your boat, too?”

The guy’s got a sense of humor, I thought. I like that.

Yep, that’s it. Same boat. But can I ask you something? Why me?”

Several minutes passed before the answer came back.

If you’re worried that I, um, approached you because you looked “gay,” forget it. It was because I’d seen you around the gym and you looked like a normal guy. And because I happened to see you go into the steam room when nobody else was around.”

That sounds a little like stalking,” I wrote.

“LOL, I guess it does. But it was really more of a spur of the moment thing, I promise.”

“OK, I believe you. Besides, I guess I should be flattered that of all the guys in the gym, you picked me.”


I wasn’t sure what to say now; we had run out of small talk. Several minutes passed.

“You still there?” Matt asked.

“Yep. Just not sure what to say.”

Several minutes passed.

“Chris, about what happened: Did you enjoy it?”

I thought a long time about how to answer this.

Yes .”

“So did I. A lot.”

Me, too.”

I think about it constantly.

Me, too.”

Have you thought about it while jacking off?”

“Yes, many times.”

There was another long pause before his next email came.

Do you want to do it again?”

I thought a long time before answering this one, too.


Probably not at the gym, though,” he wrote .

“Ha! No, probably not. I get queasy every time I think about how easily we could have been caught.”

“So do I, Chris. Jesus.”

“But where else would we go? I’m not very experienced at this.”

“Neither am I. At least, not since I was a kid.”

“What happened when you were a kid?” I asked.

“Well, I jacked off a few times with a friend of mine, we were probably 15.”

“I did it with a cousin several times,” I answered; this was the first time I’d mentioned it to another soul in 30 years.

“Ever do it after that?”

No. Only girls since then.

“Same here.”

“But did you think about it trying it again?”

“Not much when I was younger,” he answered. “I was having too much fun with women. You?”

“Not really. I hardly ever thought about doing it was not until it actually happened. Now I can’t think of anything else. LOL”

“Ha! Me, too. But I have an idea about getting together. Can you get away during the day for an hour or so?”

“Probably,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I work close to home, and there’s no one there during the day until about 5, when my wife gets home. Could you come over at lunchtime?”

“Where do you live?”

He told me. It was barely 10 minutes from my office.

OK, what day?” I asked .


“Can’t do it. Thursday?”

“Sure. Here’s the address.......”

Needless to say, for the next 48 hours I was a complete bundle of nerves. I had second thoughts, third thoughts, and more thoughts after that. Several times I was on the point of emailing him to call if off, but I never could bring myself to do it. I got hard every time I thought about seeing him, how it might go.

I jacked off twice that first night, once while my wife was cooking dinner, and second time long past midnight after I'd awoken with a raging hardon. I was calmer the second night, for some reason; I managed to resist jacking off again. I think in some weird way I was "saving" myself for him.

"Boy, you are really around the bend," I said to myself.

Thursday finally came. Luckily it was a busy day at work, and I had other things to think about; otherwise I think I would have had a three-hour boner to hide. When it turned 11:45 I slipped out the door, feeling very conspicuous. The whole way over I could feel my swelling cock straining against my pants, and I had to constantly "adjust" to stay comfortable.

His house was on a leafy street, half-hidden behind a bunch of large shrubs. I tried to park so that my car was partly hidden from the street, and I remember wondering if the license plate could be read from that far away. I got out, walked to the door.

When Matt opened the door, his face was a little flushed, as I'm sure mine was, too. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, and he had a drink in his hand.

"Hi," he said, sticking out his hand to shake. "Come on in. Want a little snort?"

Normally I don't drink during the day but I thought a small one might calm me a little.

"Just a splash," I said.

He poured it and led me into the den, a spacious room with a big sectional couch, a good-sized TV and a long row of windows, opening on the fenced back yard.

We made small talk for a few minutes while we nervously sipped our drinks. But the clock was ticking, we would both have to get back to work soon, and he finally broke the ice.

"I got a porn DVD to watch if you want," he said.

"Sure," I said.

He got up to put it on, and I noticed the distinct bulge in his pants. This made my cock twitch again, like it had in the steam-room, and I had to adjust again. He turned from the TV in time to see my hand in my pants.

"Hey, no starting early," he joked, and we both laughed. He sat down a couple of feet away from me on the sectional.

The DVD started. It took me a couple of minutes to realize there weren't going to be any women in it. When the two guys on the screen started kissing, I looked at Matt and he shrugged.

"Just trying to get into the spirit of the thing," he said, and we both laughed again.

Less than a minute passed before one guy's cock was in the other's hand, and to my surprise I was highly aroused. I rubbed myself through my pants, and my dick was very stiff. Matt's eyes were locked on the screen, and he, too, was rubbing his front.

Well, I thought, here goes nothing.

I stood up, unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants and dropped them to the floor. I now had Matt's full attention. I slipped my underwear past my straining cock, and it sprang out in front of me. I unbuttoned my shirt and sat down again, cock firmly in hand, Matt's eyes riveted on it.

It was his turn now. He took off his shirt first, pulling it over his head, and I noticed what a nice chest he had. He took off his pants and was stepping out of his underwear, his cock springing up even more vigorously than mine, when his foot caught slightly and he lost his balance. He plopped heavily onto the couch, closer to me than he'd been before, almost close enough, I noticed, to touch.

By now the guys in the DVD were sucking each other, but neither of us was paying any attention. We were totally focused on each other's cocks.

I started stroking slowly, and Matt fell into the same rhythm. I noticed again his big round balls rolling loosely in the sack, and once again wished mine were more like that. As he stroked his cock seemed to get larger, harder. The head turned red and then purple, and a big drop of precum gathered in the slit.

When I looked up briefly, I noticed that he was just as absorbed in watching me stroke my cock and I was in watching him.

His eyes rose to meet mine, and again, just as it had in the gym shower, a message seemed to pass between us. We were both thinking the same thing.

My heart pounding, I let go of my cock and slowly moved my hand toward his balls. He did not stop stroking, but spread his legs a little to give me better access to them. I cupped them in my hand, feeling their warmth and weight, and damn if I didn’t almost come right then and there. They felt, well, it’s hard to describe, wonderful.

I was rolling them gently with my fingers when Matt let go of his cock. I looked at him, and it was obvious what he wanted, what we both knew was going to happen next.

I moved my hand up and took hold of his cock, something I had never done, not even with my cousin all those years ago. His cock felt wonderful too; hard, very hard, but smooth and soft to the touch. I looked up; his eyes were closed, his head back, his mouth a bit open.

“Oh, yes,” he said. The drop of precum at the tip of his cock was now so big it threatened to spill onto his stomach. I brought my free hand over, cupped it over the tip and slowly rubbed the milky liquid into the head. Matt gasped; the feeling was obviously very intense.

I withdrew that hand and started stroking again with my left. Matt let his head fall back on the couch and his hands fall to his sides; he was inviting me to jack him off.

Which I was more than willing to do. I went slowly, working his cock with long steady, even strokes from the base to the tip, where precum was now bubbling out. From time to time I used my free hand to spread it over the head again.

It seemed like a long time but it could not have been more than a couple of minutes before Matt’s breathing grew heavy, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath. His hips started squirming, and then thrusting upward, meeting my hand, fucking it like it was a cunt.

Then I noticed that his beautiful ball sack was beginning to contract. He was getting close, I could see. I put my free hand on his hips to hold him down, and picked up the pace of my stroking.

He was moaning now, louder with each breath. With a final "Ohhhhhh, God," he came in a shuddering spasm that sent one huge stream of jizz arcing over his stomach and onto his chest. The second spasm was even bigger, and a big wad of it hit his chin. Three more spurts followed, each smaller than the last, until his body jerked one last time and he lay still.


“Christ,” he said. “That was awesome.”

During these last few minutes my own cock hadn’t been exactly idle. I had been stroking it gently, using a little of Matt's precum. It had swollen so big and hard it hurt, and I was desperate to give myself some relief. But when I started to stroke myself Matt pushed my hand away. “Straddle me,” he said. This was more than I had expected, but by now I was so horny I didn’t think twice about what I was doing. As I stood up he slid down on the couch so his back was against the seat, his buttocks hanging over the edge and his feet on the floor. I climbed up so that I could straddle his torso, and as I did I could feel his dick, still somewhat hard, nestle into my butt crack, which I found oddly thrilling. My cock was pointing straight at his face.

Matt scooped some of his own cum into each hand and put both of them on my cock. It was the first time another guy had touched me there, and I was wild with excitement. I leaned back, putting my hands on his knees, and let him go to work.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Let me see you cum."

Primed as I was, hard as I was, it wasn't long before he got his wish. After only a dozen or so good strokes I had an orgasm that put most others in my life to shame.

It seemed to start deep inside somewhere, growing into a wave that spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, which curled so tightly my feet felt like fists. Semen simply poured out of me, a gush even bigger than the one in the shower, spilling over Matt's hands and dripping onto his middle. I leaned forward, putting my hands on Matt's chest as he gently milked the last few drops from my dripping cock.

"Wow," he said. "That was some load."

We both laughed again, but neither of us moved for a minute. Finally I peeled myself off him and plopped down next to him on the couch.

Several minutes passed in silence. On the TV the gay guys were still going at it, but we paid no attention.

"Jesus this room smells like cum," Matt said.

"You are a mess," I said.

"I think I'd better take a quick shower," he said.

"Okay if I take one, too?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. "Come on."

Matt led me down a hall to what looked like a spare bedroom, with its own bathroom and shower. He got two towels out of a cabinet, tossed me one, opened the shower door and turned it on. When the temperature was right he got in, leaving the door slightly ajar. As he turned this way and that to rinse, I got the feeling he was putting on a bit of a show for me. He did have a nice body; nice pecs and arms, strong legs, a bit of a belly but still in good shape.

On an impulse I opened the door wider and climbed in with him.

At first he looked surprised, but then his expression changed to one of pleasure.

"My wife and I used to shower together a lot," he said. "Haven't done it in a long time, though. I kind of miss it."

I took the soap off the dish, lathered up my hands and placed them on his chest. He let his hands fall to his sides and I started washing his front, massaging his pecs first, then moving downward to his stomach and eventually his hips. I had never put my hands on a man that way, but it didn’t seem as weird as I thought it might; in fact, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I loved feeling his muscles, his taut skin, the sheer man-ness of him.

I lathered up again and took hold of his cock. He started to get hard again, and when I looked up his eyes were closed.

I moved my hands up to his shoulders and turned him around. I lathered up again and began working on his neck and shoulders, then moved down his back to the small and then to his buttocks. I slid my hand into the cleft, and almost as if I'd pushed a button he moved his legs apart so the crack opened wider.

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do, and how far I'd be willing to go. But I lathered up once more and slid my hand downward, following the cleft further and further forward between his legs. When my fingertip reached the puckered skin of his asshole, he gave a little gasp. I pressed it gently, and he moaned.

I reached around with my other hand and again took hold of his cock, which was fully hard. I pressed again on the puckered opening with one hand, and felt his cock twitch with the other. I pressed harder, sliding the tip of my finger into the tight hole, and he groaned. I slipped the finger in a little further, just past the first knuckle, and with the other hand started stroking his cock.

My own cock was rising, and as it did so the tip bumped against the soapy cleft of his buttocks. Matt pushed backwards, and my cock slid up and between them. My hand was now in an awkward position, so I withdrew it from between his legs and reached around front, without releasing the other hand from his cock. I put the free hand on his balls, and with my cock now pressed against his buttocks, and my chest against his back, I started humping and stroking him at the same time.

Matt was moving with me, and it wasn’t long before I felt his balls starting to contract. My own were, too. His breathing became ragged, and his swelled and I knew he was about to come. I picked up the pace of my humping, and when Matt started moaning I backed up a few inches and slipped my cock between his legs. He pressed his legs together, making a sort of hole for me to fuck, and put his hands against the shower wall to brace himself.

We came together, him in three quick bursts against the shower wall and me in another long gush.

Several minutes passed. I clung to him, panting, trying to catch my breath. My legs, which I had bent slightly so I could get my cock between his legs, were getting tired, so I pulled out and stood up straight. I rinsed off, stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and sat down on the toilet to give my legs a rest.

Meanwhile Matt, was rinsing the soap off his cock and the cum from between his legs.

Neither of us spoke or even looked at each other. I think we were both surprised by how much we'd been carried away, perhaps a little embarrassed. I sure was, anyway.

Matt stepped out of the shower. I handed him a towel, then stood up to finish drying myself. When I was done I hung the towel on a hook behind the door and headed for the living room.

I was just about dressed when Matt appeared.

"God, that was hot," he said.

I didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Just feeling a little weird, that's all."

I looked at the clock. I was surprised to see that only 45 minutes had passed since I walked in the door, but I was suddenly in a hurry to leave.

"I'd better go," I said. "Gotta get back to work."

He looked at me uncertainly.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Yes, I did,” managing to smile. “But maybe that's the trouble."

I opened the door and walked out.

Makes more sense if you read Part I first.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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