The afternoon of my visit to Dan’s house was far from a pleasant one, inside my head at least. I was a little freaked out by how fast and far things had gone with him. Just a couple of weeks ago he’d been a complete stranger, but now I’d had his cock in my hand and a finger up his ass. How could such a thing happen?
It was a good thing work was slow that afternoon, because I couldn’t focus on anything. Or to put it more accurately, I couldn’t focus on anything but replaying the encounter with Matt in my head: going to his house, stripping off our clothes, watching each other jack off, touching his balls and cock and jacking him off, the feel of his cock against my ass when I straddled him, the feel of his hands on my cock, jacking me off. And then the wild few minutes in the shower, when I’d probed his ass with my finger, jacked him off again, and then come between his legs.
What bothered me most, I think, was how out of control I’d been, how readily I did things I had never even thought of before. I had had that kind of experience with women before, but certainly not with a man.
True, I had fooled around a bit when I was younger, but it was an awkward, halting business -- kid stuff, really. This, however, was something else -- a full-fledged “homosexual encounter.”
Hearing that phrase in my own mind is what freaked me out. Like many straight people of my generation, my view of homosexuality had evolved over the years, from disdain or disgust to a sort of who-am-I-to-judge tolerance and a couple of real friendships with gay people. In my case the process was hastened by the guilty memory of those youthful encounters with my cousin.
But being tolerant of homosexuality was one thing; doing it was another.
To all this was added the guilt I felt about cheating on my wife. I really loved her and hurting her was the last thing I wanted to do. The fact that our sex life had begun to bore both of us was no excuse to play around. And even if I hadn't felt the guilt, which I did, there was the fear of getting caught. I knew from the experience of a couple of friends that an affair rarely stays secret forever.
Yet none of these considerations kept me from replaying the encounter in my head. Every time I did I'd start to get a hardon, so I spent most of the afternoon hiding behind my desk in my office. I even skipped the afternoon trip to the coffee shop that several of us normally made each day.
At home that night I was so preoccupied that my wife asked me what was wrong. Was I sick? Something bad happen at work? No, I told her, just tired, but I gave her a long kiss and hug before bed, and got her to smile, which made me feel a little better.
During all this time I had purposely avoided checking email. But after getting in bed I coudn't sleep, and after my wife drifted off I slipped off to the home office and opened my laptop.
There were three emails from Matt. "Hey, Chris,"
said the first one, which had been sent less than an hour after I'd left his house. "Thanks for coming over today. That was so hot. I was still so horny after you left that I jacked off again. I really want to do this again, and I hope you do, too."
The second one had been sent about two hours later. "Hey, Chris,"
it said. "Is everything OK? You seemed a little bummed when you left. I hope I didn't do something to offend you."
The third one had been sent about an hour before. "Hey, Chris, maybe I'm coming on too strong? I guess so, because I think you would have responded by now if you weren't upset about something. Please write back so we can talk about it."
I sat there for a few minutes and then hit "compose." "Hi, Matt. Yes, I'm a little freaked out. Everything happened so fast, I just need time to process it."
I hit send. I checked a few other emails and was about to log off when a new email popped up from Matt. I opened it. "Hi, Chris. I totally understand. I don't mean to pressure you. I'm just a little worked up, I guess. I'll leave you alone."
I quickly typed out a response. "Hey, maybe that sounded harsher than I meant it. I wasn't trying to get rid of you. I'm just having a hard time dealing with what happened."
Matt responded that he, too, was conflicted about what we were doing. But he said he had always been a very cautious person, unwilling to take risks or try new things, and as a result had led a fairly dull life. Now he had a chance to do something different and maybe a little crazy, and for once he was going to just go with the flow. Whatever happened, happened.
We exchanged a few more emails that night, and by the time we signed off I was feeling better. When I finally got back in bed I was too tired to think any further, and was able to fall asleep quickly. But the next morning I woke up early, with a terrific hardon, so I logged back into the computer and started looking for gay porn sites. The first one I came to featured a thumbnail showing two middle-aged guys together, so I clicked on it.
It was not a professional video -- you could tell by the poor lighting and the way one of the guys fumbled with the camera while getting it into position. They were in a hotel room, and as soon as the camera was set they got undressed, lay down on the bed and started kissing. This did nothing for me, but they soon progressed to stroking each others’ cocks, which made me stiffen up again, and then one guy starting sucking the other. I started stroking myself, and when they got into a 69 position I tilted the chair back so I could really go at it.
One of the guys broke off the sucking and got on all fours, spreading his cheeks to the camera, and then the other guy got behind him and started rubbing his dick against the first guy’s hole. Then he was inside, fucking hard. After a couple of minutes he pulled out and sprayed cum all over the other guy’s back, and I came with a gasp I’m sure my wife could hear three rooms away.
After I cleaned up the mess I sent Matt an email. “If we did get together again, what would you want to do?
” I asked.
Two minutes later I got his answer. “I want to suck your cock.”
Well, there it was. I thought a good long while before I answered this. “Can I come over today?” “Sure,”
he said. “I’ll see you at 12:15.
* * *
I was about five minutes late -- I had gotten stuck in some stupid meeting -- and when I finally knocked on the door it flew open.
Matt was standing there dressed only in a robe, which did not cover his already stiffening cock.
“For a second I was afraid you weren’t coming,” he said. “No, I just got …”
But before I could finish the sentence Matt took hold of my belt and pulled me into the living room. There was a blanket and a couple of pillows on the floor, and the same porn DVD was playing on the TV. Matt was still tugging me along, and I barely had time to kick off my shoes before he dragged me to the center of the blanket and started undoing my belt.
“Here, I’ll do that,” I said. He let got of me, shucked off his robe and stood there naked, waiting, while I took off my clothes. When I got down to my underwear he fell to his knees and pushed my hands aside. His face was about a foot from my crotch, and for a second I thought he was going to put his mouth on the cloth covering my rapidly stiffening dick, but instead he started rubbing me with one hand.
My cock was in an awkward position, hard but pointing downward inside the cotton briefs, so I stopped him long enough to adjust so it was pointing upward. The purplish tip, already leaking precum, was showing just above the elastic waistband.
Matt took hold of the elastic with both hands, and in one smooth motion slipped my briefs down to my ankles. Before I could step out of them he had my cock in his hand, and in the next second he was licking the precum out of my slit.
The feeling was indescribable, so intense my knees almost buckled. A couple of women had done this to me before, including my wife, but not quite like this. Matt did it the way I had always wanted it done but never got, which was to have someone probe the slit gently with the tip of his tongue.
After a few seconds of this Matt put his lips around the head, and I felt a gentle sucking. When he drew back for a second another big drop of precum formed on the tip, and he licked that one away, too.
Then he put his lips back on the head and started taking me in. I watched as my cock slowly disappeared into his mouth. At one point he started to gag, forcing him to back off again, but he recovered quickly and took me in again. This time he was able to take in the whole shaft, and his nose actually touched my pubic hair.
He began moving his lips up and down, keeping them firmly clamped around the shaft. He went almost to the tip several times, and when he did I could see precum on his lips. It must have been pouring out of me. The taste must not have bothered him, because I saw him swallow several times.
Over and over, my cock disappeared into his mouth and then reappeared as he moved his head away from me. I automatically put my hands on his head, but tried not to force the motion, which was about as intense as I could take in any case. I felt my cum starting to rise, and my balls began contracting, and I knew I couldn’t last much longer.
“I’m gonna come!” I warned him, but he ignored me. He clearly wanted me to come in his mouth. So when I felt the final surge beginning, and my cock began to swell, I just let things take their natural course. I came with a huge shudder and a moan, pushing deep into his throat, thrusting, fucking his mouth. The load was so big it leaked from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, and when I finally stopped thrusting he had to swallow twice to get it all down.
He let me go and sat back on the floor. I pretty much collapsed, ending sprawled in front of him with my still-throbbing, still-dripping cock in my hand. I milked myself of the last few drops, and feel back exhausted on the blanket.
“Oh, my fucking God,” I said. “That was the hardest come in my entire life.”
“Felt like it on my end, too,” he said.
I looked at him. His cock was sticking straight up out of his lap, so hard it was almost purple. Those gorgeous balls of his rested on the blanket, rolling as he moved within their loose skin.
I sat up, put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him slowly to the blanket. I backed up slightly, lifted his hips and slipped one of the pillows under his butt. His balls now dangled off the floor, hanging heavily in the sack.
I lay down on my side, positioning myself so my face was close to his crotch. His balls and cock were bare inches from my mouth.
Here goes nothing, I thought.
I moved closer, extended my tongue and touched it to his scrotum. It was just a flick, but I heard Matt give a little gasp, so I gave it a longer lick. He actually whimpered when I did that, so I licked him again and again, first one ball and then the other, back and forth. Then I gently sucked one of them into my mouth. I rolled it around with my tongue, being careful not to touch it with my teeth, and made as if to swallow it. Matt gasped again and started breathing heavily.
I let that ball go and took the other one in my mouth. I wanted to suck them both at the same time, but they were too big to fit in my mouth at the same time.
On an impulse I reached in with one hand and lifted his sack so I could lick its backside. Naturally this brought my nose and tongue right up against the area between his balls and his anus, and here I paused to take a sniff. The smell was clean and a little soapy, like he had just washed. Of course, I thought. That's why he was in a robe when I arrived; he had just gotten out of the shower.
I made a mental note to thank him later. And I figured that if he had gone to the trouble of taking a shower, he had probably washed here pretty thoroughly.
Again I thought, here goes nothing.
I began licking the pinkish skin behind his sack, working downward in short vertical strokes closer and closer to his asshole. If I had any qualms about what I was doing I don't remember them now; I must have been totally in the moment.
Closer I inched to the puckered hole. The smell was still clean and soapy, so I kept going, and touched the tip of my tongue to the opening. Matt flinched, and I licked a little harder. He whimpered again, and I licked more vigorously. The taste was not at all bad; a little soapy, maybe, but maybe the taste of salt and skin and just the tiniest hint of something sharper.
I probed the hole with my tongue, carefully at first and then more strongly. Matt was moaning loudly, and that only made me more determined to please him. I began what I learned later is called "tongue-fucking" and he started making little sobbing noises.
By then the entire area from his asshole to the front of his scrotum was bathed in my saliva. Time to move, I thought.
I pushed myself to a kneeling position between his legs, my mouth hovering over his cock. It was so hard the veins were standing out on the shaft, and the precum was leaking so steadily a little puddle had formed on his stomach.
I lowered my face toward the throbbing flesh, opened my mouth and enveloped half the shaft in one gulp. I immediately started moving my lips up and down, feeling the stiff rod moving in and out, coating the shaft with my saliva and the fluid now pouring steadily from the slit.
I was doing it. I was sucking a cock. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have dreamed of such a thing, but now I was doing it and, truth be told, loving it. I loved the hardness and smoothness. I loved the salty taste, the thick, musky taste of his precum on my tongue.
Matt was groaning loudly now. I knew he wouldn't last long. But then I had a sudden inspiration: I let go of his cock and, moistened the middle finger of my right hand, lowered it to his still-sopping crotch and shoved the finger straight into his ass.
"Oh my GOD!" Matt shouted.
I pulled the finger out, pushed it back in, back out, back in. I found the hard nut of his prostate and pressed it with my finger-tip. A shudder went through him. I took his cock back in my mouth and sucked while I finger-fucked him.
Thirty seconds was all it took. I felt his asshole contract around my finger, his cock swelled even larger and I felt a gush of cum in my throat. I pistoned my finger into his ass again, and a second stream of jizz poured into me. I pressed my mouth as far down on his cock as I could, almost to the point of gagging, and a third jet surged into my throat.
Matt wasn't just moaning or whimpering, he was sobbing. I let go of his cock and lifted my head to look at him; tears were streaming down the sides of his face into his hair. I pulled my finger out of his asshole, as gently as I could, but the feeling clearly was still pretty intense; another big drop of semen shot out of his cock and hit me on the chin. I wiped it off with the finger that had been in Matt's ass and licked it clean.
I remained still as long as I could, until his sobbing subsided and his breathing returned almost to normal. Only then did I flop down beside him, not realizing that I had pinned one of his arms to the floor. He curled the arm around me and before I realized what was happening he pulled me close and kissed me full on the lips.
At first I was startled and tried to pull away, but he held me firmly, and I gave in. He kissed me again, and I kissed him back, as passionately as I'd ever kissed anyone in my life.
During this whole episode, from the moment I pushed him back on the blanket, Matt's eyes had been closed. Now he opened them and looked me straight in the eye.
"That was the greatest sex I ever had in my life," he said.
"It was pretty great, wasn't it?" I had to admit.
"Pretty much touched all the bases," he said.
"Just one base left," I said, and kissed him again.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/bisexual/it-started-in-the-steam-room-part-iii-1.aspx">It Started in the Steam Room (Part III)</a>