It was late Sunday afternoon and we had been waiting for this moment. My wife yelled, “Lew, my water broke.”

I grabbed the bag and went out and started the car, like a fool leaving her to lock up the house. Going to the hospital it seemed we were hitting every red light. I got frustrated and when the cross traffic thinned out scooted through the lights. Any other time I’d have gotten a ticket. As usual, when you needed one…no cop.

When we got there and got her checked in, after about half an hour the nurse told me it was a false alarm, or rather it wasn’t quite time yet. She would be delivering, but in a little while longer. She said something like, “Hang tight.”

Another two hours passed and another couple came in. He and I were the only ones in the waiting area. He was a smallish man of about thirty, nattily dressed in a double breasted pin-striped suit with an expensive light blue silk tie. He immediately reminded me of Frank Sinatra, but much better looking.

I’m the nondescript kind. If you walked down the street in New York you’d pass twelve or twenty others just like me in one block. I played football in college, and wanted to go professional, but wasn’t good enough. I get to the gym once or twice a week, but I stick to the treadmill or bicycle to get the heart going, and use the steam room, so I’m not out of shape but I’m nobody’s Adonis.

After a few minutes I walked over to him and said, “Is this your first time?”

He grinned, “Yeah. What about you?”

I nodded, “Mine too.” We’d been married for six years, but had decided to hold off till finances were better. I stuck out my hand, “I’m Lew, with a ‘w’.

He looked at me with a slight frown.

“As in Lewis with a “w”.

Still no response. “L-E-W-I-S.” I don’t know why I feel I have to spell my name for people who will never write it down.

He had taken my hand and was waiting to shake it. “Oh. Hi. I’m Marc, with a ‘c’, as in Marcus.”

We both laughed a nervous laugh.

Over the next four hours we talked. We talked about the Lakers and the Clippers. We talked about windsurfing and deep sea fishing. We talked about NASCAR. We talked about Ford 150s and Dodge Rams. We talked about smoking and drinking. I smoke and am trying to stop. I’ve been through the patch and am now using the gum. He used to drink. We talked about work. We talked about the heat wave and Obamacare and gas prices. We talked about sonograms and baby names and boys versus girls. The suit coat had come off, the tie loosened and the top three buttons unbuttoned. My hair was probably a mess from my combing my fingers through it.

At one a.m. I was out of gum and said I needed a smoke. We went down to the lobby where there were a line of vending machines and he got a cup of coffee and I got a Coke. We went outside so I could smoke. The night was still unusually warm. I smoked half the cigarette and tossed it. We threw our cup and soda can in the trash receptacle and decided we didn’t want to go back inside yet. There wasn’t any place to sit in front of the hospital. I suggested we go into the parking structure and sit in one of our cars.

“I’m on the second level,” I said. We had been lucky.

“I’m up on the fifth,” Marco said.

We got in my car and I tilted the steering wheel up. I wear boxers with my junk hanging on the right. My wife sometimes scolds me for showing too much, but I know that was one of the things that attracted her to me in the first place, and she likes the length. But I couldn’t seem to get comfortable. I had to shift around a couple of times.

I reached toward the dash. “Do you want to listen to the radio?”

“Naw.” I detected an accent, but I didn’t know if it was regional or Italian.

We were both tired, sort of burned out. I looked at Marcus and commented, “You’re in great shape. You must work out.”

He said, “I’m into weight lifting, but just enough to keep in shape.”

I placed my hand on his thigh and felt the strong muscles. He looked at my hand and I realized my goof. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to invade your space.”

“No,” he said, “I was thinking how good the human contact felt.”

Marcus tilted the seat back a little and closed his eyes. “I don’t think the coffee is working.”

I said, “I don’t know if it’s the caffeine in the Coke or the nicotine in the cig, but I’m wide awake.”

Marcus opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at me. He said, “You’re too tense.”

He laid his hand on my upper thigh, right on my cock. He didn’t remove it. I hadn’t been hard, but I was suddenly on my way. I looked at him and slid my hand into his unbuttoned shirt, feeling his chest and rubbing my thumb over his nipples. He had probably been clean shaven that morning, but now his beard stubble was clearly showing. Surprisingly, his body was smooth with only a light patch of hair in the center of his chest. I slipped my hand down to his stomach, stopped only by the buttoned part of his shirt. As he unbuttoned the rest I leaned forward and kissed his mouth, which he opened to accept my probing tongue.

My cock was roaring hard and like a caged animal was trying to struggle free. Marcus tried to unzip my pants, but I immediately took over and had them completely open in two seconds. He grabbed my cock and squeezed it hard. I frantically worked on getting his pants open and he lifted his hips so I could push them down, exposing his cock and balls.

My cock is like a tube, straight and round. I like to think it’s seven and a half inches, but it’s really just a fraction of an inch over seven. The head is an unremarkable helmet shape, about the same size as the rod supporting it. Marcus' cock was, I’d estimate, six inches, but was fat.

It wasn’t round, but an oval shape, probably two inches wide at the base and gently tapering to a smaller head. He was uncut, but his foreskin just covered the flange of his cockhead.

I bent forward and took his whole cock in my mouth, going down until it hit the back of my throat and my nose was buried in his black patch of wiry but soft hairs. I had never in my entire life even touched another male’s cock. I inhaled deeply and slowly slid back up, savoring the feel of this particular piece of human flesh, both hard and soft at the same time. I repeated the motion ten, twelve times.

The size and shape of his cock made it difficult to suck from the way I was sitting. I thought it would be better if I was on my knees between his legs, but that was impossible in the car. I then returned to probing my tongue into his mouth, and sucking his into mine. He then pushed me back and started sucking my cock. He couldn’t take all of it down his throat, so he didn’t try, but instead worked over the top three fourths, moving his head around in a random motion, driving me insane. For the next half hour or more we alternated between sucking each other’s cock and kissing.

I then said the first spoken words. “Let’s get in the back.”

We wildly pulled off our pants and shorts, got out of the car and back into the back seat. We hadn’t even entertained the idea of security patrolling the garage. We clinched and kissed and sucked and licked. I thought of moving into a sixty-nine position, but decided I wanted to do something different. Without saying anything I pulled him so he was laying on his back the length of the seat. I then got between his legs and sucked the way I had thought to do earlier. It worked, his big fat oval cock fit nicely into my mouth. Then I moved up and over him and he opened his willing mouth and I gently fucked his face for a couple of minutes.

I moved back down and lifted his legs and spit on his asshole. My cock was wet from his mouth, but I knew it would take more than that. I cleared my throat to get up some slick phlegm, but then remembered something. I got up and leaned over the front seat and opened the glove compartment. My wife had a small bottle of hand sanitizer there. I squirted that on my cock and placed the head against Marcus’ little brown asshole, and pushed. He bit his bottom lip and let out a sound of definite pain.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, you’re in now, but go slow please.”

I pushed a little and then pulled back, continuing with each push to go a little further.

“I’m in, all the way.” Marcus reached his hand back and felt my balls against his buttocks.

We must have looked ridiculous, me still in my polo shirt, Marcus in his open white dress shirt and tie around his neck like a hangman’s noose, both of us with our shoes on. I proceeded to fuck him, slowly going out and in and slowly each time going a little faster until I was fucking at a fast pace, but not drilling him. I couldn’t believe how good his ass felt on my dick - hot and tight.

I had never even thought of fucking my wife in her ass, nor any of the women I fucked before getting married. Ass-fucking was great! At least ass-fucking Marcus was. I’m sure I was making panting sounds beyond my hard breathing. With each thrust Marcus made sort of a grunt from deep down inside and occasionally whispered, “Oh God.”

I was holding my upper body up with my arms stiff while Marcus had his fingers digging into my shoulders. I was fascinated watching his stiff cock bouncing on his stomach as I fucked his ass. Suddenly to my surprise he came, spewing his cum onto his stomach and his pubic hair. That sight brought me to the breaking point and I jammed my cock in as far as it would go and held it there while I emptied my balls, four, five, six times. My strength drained from my body and I fell on top of Marcus, squishing his cum between our bodies. I kissed him passionately, and then gently and then with small kisses all over his handsome face.

We disconnected and I found the towel my wife had brought to wipe her water off her legs. We used it to wipe off the cum. We got in front and turned our pants right side out and found the change and stuff that had fallen out of our pockets. When we were back out of the car we got our shirttails tucked in and everything buttoned and zipped up.

We went back in the hospital and to the men’s room to wash our hands, splash water on our faces, rinse out our mouths and comb our hair. We hoped that maybe nobody looking at us would know what we had just done. We went back up to maternity and waited, talking very little. Another hour passed and the doctor came out to congratulate me. I went in to see my wife and down the hall to see my new daughter through the window.

I went back to the waiting area to say good-bye to Marcus. I took a business card out of my wallet and walked over to the receptionist’s window where there was a pen on a chain. I turned it over and wrote my home phone number on the back.

We shook hands and I said, “Call me when something happens, no matter the hour,” turned and went home, exhausted. Five hours later, at eight in the morning, the phone rang. I fumbled for it, still half asleep, and croaked out, “Yeah?”

“Lewis. It’s Marcus. Sorry to wake you but you…”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine Marcus. Everything okay?”

‘Yeah, she’s fine. Or both shes are fine.”

“Good…fine…great, Marcus. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Silence. “Uh…Lewis, can we get together again…sometime…soon?”

Again silence, but this time on my part.

“I’m sorry Lewis…I didn’t mean to…well…uh…take care.”

“No, Marcus. Hold on. Yes. I was just thinking where.”

“Motel 6?”

“Fine…Friday? 5:30? I’ll meet you at the Starbucks near your office.”

“Okay Lewis, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up and rolled over and thought, “Remember to take some lubricant. This time I want to try taking that fat oval cock up my ass."