Jim and I met on a gay website. He sent me a smile! I checked out his profile, which was exactly what I was looking for. He was close to my age (a couple of years younger), had a partner, was a top but enjoyed giving and receiving oral, stood 5’9” tall, was slightly overweight with a stomach protruding over his waist, and had a 6” cock, and pretty thick. Everything I was looking for.

We chatted for a week before exchanging phone numbers so we could text. Jim still worked part-time. We picked a Monday, his day off, for our first face-to-face meeting. His house was a good 10 miles away from me, though still in the same county.

When I arrived, Jim was exactly as he had portrayed himself. Attractive in his own way, outgoing, and chatty. He invited me in and immediately wrapped me in a big, warm bear hug. His soft belly pressed firmly against my chest, the faint scent of clean soap mixed with a hint of musky man-sweat filling my nose as he slightly ground his pelvis into me. The friction through our clothes sent a slow, tingling heat straight to my groin. I’m a short man, 5’2”, average build, 138 lbs—with an average cock (5.5” to 6”, depending on arousal). The top of my head barely reached his collarbone, making the hug feel protective.

The feel of that hug, his strong arms squeezing, his groin pressing insistently against my stomach, gave me an instant semi-erection, the fabric of my shorts suddenly too tight. Jim led me to his partially covered patio, the warm California sun filtering through slats overhead, carrying the faint chlorine tang from the nearby hot tub. We sat beside each other on wicker couch, thighs brushing, chatting about our likes, both sexual and non-sexual, our voices low and easy.

Jim was telling me about a neighbor next door who would spy on him and his partner when they were naked in the hot tub or lounging naked on the patio in the evenings, sipping cocktails. As he spoke, we both heard the neighbor’s door creak open and then snap shut. We paused, listening to the soft rustle of footsteps on gravel. Through the wooden fence slats, a dark shadow shifted, then stilled, eyes peering at us.

I whispered, “Let’s give him a show.” Heart pounding with excitement, I slid down between Jim’s spread legs onto the warm patio tiles. My knees pressed into the rough texture as I unbuttoned his shorts with trembling fingers. Reaching in, I pulled his cock free, already semi-hard, heavy and warm in my palm, the thick shaft veined and flushed, the musky, salty scent of his skin hitting me instantly. I engulfed him in one smooth motion, the velvety head sliding over my tongue, filling my mouth with his shaft and the faint taste of pre-cum. Jim let out a deep, rumbling “Oh, suck me, Dick,” his voice husky and low.

We could hear the neighbor rustling closer, leaves crunching underfoot, then the faint creak of the fence as he leaned in, his eyes just visible over the top. I continued to suck, lick, adding slurps noisily, the wet sounds echoing slightly under the patio cover. Jim’s thick cock throbbed against my tongue, growing harder, the skin smooth and hot.

After a few minutes, Jim pulled me up gently by the shoulders. “Let’s take this inside,” he growled. “I want to see you naked and hold that awesome ass of yours in my hands.”

Inside, the cool air-conditioned house contrasted with the patio heat. I asked Jim about his partner and whether he was aware of my visit, with the intention of having sex. Jim said no, he wasn’t, it would be our secret. I explained that my partner also didn’t know about my lust for cock and sex with men.

Jim led me into the bedroom, the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air. He said he wanted to undress me slowly. His rough hands peeled off my shirt, then my shorts, palms gliding over my skin, raising goosebumps. He turned me around, cupped my ass cheeks firmly, spread them wide, and exhaled hot breath against my exposed hole. “Look at that pretty rosebud,” he murmured, voice thick with lust. As my clothes hit the floor, he commented on how nice I looked, how my cock, now fully hard and leaking, was exactly as he’d pictured, and how perfect my ass felt in his hands. “Oh, an ass to die for,” he said, giving it a playful squeeze.

When I was naked and waiting, skin prickling in the cool room air, Jim stripped in record time, clothes tossed aside, revealing his soft belly, furry chest, and that thick, now rock-hard cock bobbing. He pulled me onto the bed with him, me on top, and started kissing me. His lips were soft but insistent, tasting faintly of coffee and salt, our tongues tangled hungrily, the wet sounds of making out filling the quiet room like teenagers rediscovering passion.

I whispered, “Let me get you ready,” flipped around into 69, I took his cock back into my mouth, that familiar salty taste flooding my senses again. Jim pulled my ass up toward his face, his stubbled cheeks brushing my inner thighs. He spread me wide with strong hands, then dragged his hot, wet tongue over my hole in long, slow licks. The sensation was electric, warm, slippery pressure circling, probing, making me moan around his shaft.

I yelled, “Jim, please just fuck me!” My voice cracked with need. He reached for the lube on the nightstand, the cool gel squirted onto my hole, his thick fingers pushing it inside with gentle twists. He squirted more into my palm, I stroked his cock, feeling it slick and hard under my grip.

With us both lubed and glistening, he instructed me to take him cowboy style. I straddled him, lined up his thick head with my entrance, and slowly sank down. The initial stretch was enormous, a burning, the pressure that made me gasp, my hole clenching around the fat intrusion. Inch by inch, the burn faded into deep, satisfying fullness as I bottomed out, his pubic hair tickling my ass. My prostate lit up with every subtle shift, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.

I started pumping up and down, the slick slide of his cock inside me creating wet, rhythmic sounds. Each deep thrust rubbed my sweet spot perfectly, the room filling with the scent of lube, musk, and arousal. It felt better and better, waves of heat building, but my thighs began to cramp from the effort.

I told Jim, so he flipped me onto my back in one smooth motion, hardly missing a stroke. Legs over his shoulders, he drove in deep, steady thrusts that made the bed creak. The slap of skin on skin, his heavy breathing, my own moans, it seemed to last 15 minutes or longer. I was lost in the overwhelming sensation, the stretch, the friction, the building pressure in my balls.

Jim’s breathing grew ragged, he said he was close. I wrapped my hand around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, pre-cum lubing my fist. Jim moaned, “Here it comes.” I stroked faster, my orgasm hit hard, ropes of cum splattering hot across my stomach and onto his soft belly. With a deep, guttural roar, Jim buried himself deep and erupted inside me. I felt the hot squirts flooding my insides, the warmth of his cum, his cock twitching with each spurt.

He dropped my legs and collapsed onto me, our sweaty bodies sticking together. He kissed me deeply, murmuring how great a fuck I was. His weight felt comforting, grounding. I could still feel the lingering heat of his cum deep inside. Jim lay on top of me for a while, kissing my forehead, ears, and neck, soft, lazy presses of lips, his breath warm and steady. Eventually his cock softened and slipped out with a wet sound, a trickle of warm cum following, cooling on my skin as it leaked.

He rolled to the side and pulled me on top of him. We kissed slowly, catching our breath, chests rising and falling together. When I said I needed to pee, Jim grinned, pulled me up as I stood, and sucked my softening cock into his mouth, tongue swirling to taste the remnants of my cum, salty and spicy.

After using the bathroom (a quick pee and a refreshing shower, hot water cascading over my sensitized skin), I joined him in the living room. Jim was already dressed, looking relaxed. I sat there naked, skin still flushed and tingling, while we talked about random things like saving the world and how much we’d enjoyed each other. The sex had been better than either of us expected, raw, intense, satisfying. We planned our next meeting, already buzzing with anticipation.

I still worked out of town, just one week a month. Lucky me, right? Jim wanted to meet the very next week, but I was already committed to travel. We settled on three weeks later, another Monday. The wait felt endless. Every day, my mind replayed our first time, the thick stretch of his cock filling me, the hot pulses of his cum deep inside, the way his soft belly pressed against me as we caught our breath. I jerked off thinking about it more than once. By the time the day finally arrived, I was extremely horny, my hole twitching with need, craving the familiar burn and fullness of Jim’s fat cock sliding back in.

I drove the 10 miles with the AC cranked, but my skin still felt flushed, cock half-hard against my thigh the whole way. When I pulled up to his house, faint scent of cut grass and distant ocean salt in the air. Jim opened the door before I even knocked, grinning wide, eyes dark with the same hunger I felt. He pulled me inside without a word, door clicking shut behind us, and wrapped me in that same enveloping bear hug. This time it was tighter, more urgent, his big hands sliding down my back to grip my ass through my jeans, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. His belly pressed warm and soft against my stomach again, the faint musk of his skin, signature soap, hitting me like a drug. I could feel him already getting hard against my hip, the solid heat of his cock straining through fabric.

“Been thinking about this ass every damn day,” he growled low in my ear, breath hot and tickling. His stubble scraped my neck as he nipped lightly, sending shivers racing down my spine. I ground back against him instinctively, feeling the thick hard ridge of him rub right where I wanted it most.

We barely made it past the entryway. Jim backed me against the wall, kissing me deep and messy, tongues sliding, tasting coffee and faint mint. His rough palms roamed under my shirt, thumbs circling my nipples until they hardened into tight peaks, each brush sending jolts straight to my leaking cock. I moaned into his mouth, hands fumbling at his belt, desperate to feel that fat shaft again.

He broke the kiss long enough to lead me to the bedroom, clothes shedding in a trail behind us. The room was cooler than last time, AC humming softly, sheets already turned down and smelling faintly of fresh laundry and him. Jim stripped me slowly this round, peeling off my shirt, jeans, briefs, his calloused fingers tracing every inch of exposed skin. When I was naked, cock bobbing and slick at the tip, he stepped back to look, eyes roaming over me like I was dessert.

“Goddamn, Dick,” he murmured, voice thick. “Look at you, hard and dripping already.” He reached down, wrapped his big hand around my shaft, stroking once, twice, slow, firm pulls that made pre-cum bead and slide over his knuckles. The slick sound filled the quiet room.

I dropped to my knees without thinking, the carpet rough under me. His shorts hit the floor, and there it was, that thick, veined cock springing free, heavy, the head glistening. The musky, masculine scent hit me full force, salt, skin, arousal. I leaned in, licked a long stripe from base to tip, tasting the salty tang of pre-cum before taking him deep. Jim groaned, fingers threading into my hair, guiding but not forcing. The velvety weight filled my mouth, stretching my lips around his girth as I bobbed, tongue swirling, slurping wetly.

After a few minutes of that delicious torture, Jim pulled me up. “Need to be inside you,” he rasped. He pushed me gently onto the bed on my back, legs spread wide. The cool sheets felt good against my skin. He grabbed the lube, cool gel dripping onto my hole, his thick fingers pushing in, scissoring, stretching me open with slow, deliberate twists. Every press against my prostate made me arch, a low groan escaping my throat. The room filled with the slick sounds of lube and my own heavy breathing.

When I was loose and begging, Jim slicked his cock generously, shiny and throbbing in his fist. He lined up, the blunt head nudging my entrance, then pushed in slow. The stretch was just as intense as the first time, burning, full, overwhelming, but so fucking good. I gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as inch after thick inch sank deeper, his pubic hair finally brushing my ass. The heat of him flexed inside me, I squeezed around him instinctively, feeling every ridge and vein.

He started thrusting, long, deep strokes that made the bed creak and my toes curl. Skin slapped skin, wet and rhythmic. Sweat beaded between us, the scent of sex thick in the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. Each grind against my prostate sent sparks shooting through me, I stroked my own cock in time, slick with pre-cum, chasing my orgasm.

Jim’s breathing grew ragged, thrusts turning erratic. “Gonna fill you up again,” he grunted. That did it, I came hard, cum shooting hot across my stomach in thick ropes, muscles clenching around him. Jim roared, burying deep one last time, cock twitching as he unloaded, hot, squirting jets of cum flooding me, warmth spreading until I felt it leak out around his base.

He collapsed half on top of me, both of us panting, sticky, spent. His softening cock slipped free with a wet pop, followed by a warm trickle of cum down my crack. We lay there catching our breath, his arm draped heavy over me, lips brushing my temple in lazy kisses.

After a quick cleanup and some water, we lounged naked on the couch, talking low and easy, already scheming the next time. The wait had been torture, but damn, the reunion made it worth every second.

We lounged naked on the couch, skin still tacky with drying sweat and cum, the room smelling of sex, musk, lube, and that faint salty flavor that lingers after orgasm. Jim’s arm was heavy across my chest, his fingers idly tracing lazy circles around my nipple, sending little aftershocks through me. We talked in low, satisfied murmurs about nothing and everything, but I could feel his cock, soft but thick, resting warm against my thigh, twitching now and then like it remembered what we’d just done.

Then, as if on cue, it started to thicken again. I felt the slow, insistent swell against my skin, the heat building as blood rushed back in. Jim shifted, glanced down at himself, then at me with a slow, wicked grin. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

“What do you think about another round?” he asked, voice gravelly and low. “Do you have time?”

My hole clenched at the words, still slick and tender from the first load, a faint ache that only made me want more. I was already stirring again, cock lifting against my stomach. “Hell yes,” I breathed. “I’ve got all afternoon.”

Jim’s grin widened. He stood, pulling me up with him, and steered me back toward the bedroom. The hardwood floor was cool under my bare feet, a sharp contrast to the flush heat of my body. In the bedroom, sunlight slanted through half-closed blinds. The air still carried the faint scent of our earlier session—sweat-soaked cotton, lube, and cum.

This time, Jim wanted me from behind. “On your knees,” he said, voice thick, I obeyed, crawling onto the bed, ass up, face pressed into the pillow that still smelled like him. The position made me feel exposed, vulnerable, cool air on my spread cheeks, my hole twitching in anticipation. Jim knelt behind me, big hands gripping my hips, thumbs spreading me wide. I heard the wet click of the lube bottle, then felt the cool drip land right on my pucker, followed by the blunt press of two thick fingers sliding in easily, still loose and gaping from round one. He scissored them slowly, curling to brush my prostate, making me moan into the pillow and I pushed back greedily.

“Fuck, you’re still so open for me,” he growled. His free hand stroked down my spine, raising goosebumps, then cupped my ass cheek and gave it a firm squeeze.

He withdrew his fingers, and I felt the fat head of his cock nudge my entrance,hot, slick, hard. He pushed in slow this time, letting me feel every thick inch stretching me open again. The burn was milder now, replaced by that deep, satisfying fullness as he bottomed out, his soft belly pressing warm against my lower back, pubic hair tickling my crack. I gasped at the depth, toes curling into the sheets.

Jim started thrusting, long, deep, deliberate strokes that dragged over my prostate with every pass. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, mixed with his low grunts and my muffled moans. He lasted so much longer this round, having cum hard just an hour earlier seemed to give him endless control. Minutes stretched into what felt like forever, slow builds, then faster pistoning, then slowing again to grind deep and circle his hips, stirring his cock inside me until I was whimpering, pushing back desperately.

Sweat dripped down my sides, the sheets grew damp beneath us. Jim’s hands roamed, gripping my shoulders for leverage, then sliding under to pinch my nipples, then back to my hips to pull me onto him harder. The room echoed with the obscene sounds, slick humping, heavy breathing, the occasional wet pop when he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in.

Eventually he eased me flat onto my stomach, legs spread wide, his weight settling fully on top of me. His belly molded to my back, furry chest hair scratching pleasantly against my skin. He hooked his arms under mine, pinning me in place, and fucked me with shorter, deeper thrusts, grinding right against my prostrate. I could feel every pulse of his cock, the heat of his cock, the way he throbbed thicker each time he bottomed out. His breath was hot and ragged against my ear, whispering filthy praise, “ So fucking tight, take it all, I’m gonna fill you again”.

I rocked back as much as his weight allowed, cock trapped against the mattress, leaking steadily and rubbing my cock, with every thrust. The friction built fast, too much sensation, so good. I came first this time, untouched, spilling hot and messy cum onto the sheets with a choked cry, muscles clenching rhythmically around his hard cock.

That tipped Jim over. He buried deep, inside me, with a long, shuddering groan, cock pulsing hard as he unloaded, thick, hot jets of semen, flooding me again, even more than the first round. I felt it spurt deep, warmth spreading, then leaking out around his base as he kept grinding through the aftershocks.

He stayed on top of me for a long minute, both of us panting, hearts hammering against each other. Finally he rolled off, cock slipping free with a gush of cum that trickled warm down my crack and onto the sheets. He pulled me into his side, arm heavy across my waist, lips brushing my shoulder in lazy, sweet kisses.

We lay there sticky and spent, the room quiet except for our slowing breaths and the faint hum of the AC. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” I mumbled, half-laughing.

Jim chuckled, low and satisfied. “Worth it.”

We lay there for a long while, bodies tangled and heavy, skin cooling slowly in the quiet room. The sheets were a damp mess beneath us, sticky with sweat, lube, and the combined cum loads, Jim had pumped into me. His arm stayed draped over my waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on my hip, while his softening cock rested warm and slick against my thigh. Every few minutes, a little trickle of his cum would leak out, warm and slippery, sliding down my crack and making me clench instinctively. The air smelled thick with sex, musky sweat, the faint sweetness of lube, and that raw, intimate scent of cum.

Eventually, the pressure in my bladder won out. I murmured something about needing to pee, and Jim gave a lazy grunt of acknowledgment, loosening his hold. I rolled off the bed, legs a bit shaky from two intense rounds, and padded to the bathroom. I stood at the toilet, the familiar hiss of pee echoing in the small space, then stepped into the shower. Hot water cascaded over me, soothing the faint ache in my hole and washing away all the cum, though I could still feel the subtle warmth deep inside where Jim had filled me twice. Soap ran down my chest and legs, and down the drain. I lingered a minute, letting the steam fill my lungs.

I toweled off, dressed in my rumpled clothes from earlier (jeans and shirt), and headed back to the living room. Jim was already there, lounging on the couch in loose shorts and a faded T-shirt, looking relaxed and smug. The TV was on low in the background, some cable news channel droning about the latest political drama, talking heads gesturing wildly. He patted the cushion next to him, and I dropped down, our thighs pressing together again.

We talked politics for a bit, nothing deep, just reacting to whatever bullshit was on screen, laughing at the absurdity of it all, trading a few sarcastic jabs. It felt easy, normal, like we hadn’t just fucked each other senseless twice in the span of an hour. The casual shift from raw sex to everyday chatter only made the whole thing hotter.

Then the conversation turned back to us. Jim muted the TV, turned toward me, and rested a big hand on my knee. His thumb rubbed slow circles through the denim. “So,” he said, voice dropping lower, “next time, I’ve been thinking.”

I raised an eyebrow, already feeling that familiar stir in my gut.

He leaned in closer, breath warm against my ear. “What if we take it out to the hot tub? Evening, lights low, steam rising, cocktails in hand. Naked, obviously.” He paused, grinning. “And maybe, we let the neighbor know ahead of time. A little heads-up. Tell him to keep an eye out over the fence. Let him watch properly this time, no shadows, no guessing. Full on show.”

The idea hit me, my cock twitched in my jeans at the thought, warm water bubbling around us, Jim’s thick cock sliding into me under the surface, slow and deep, water sloshing with every thrust. The risk of eyes on us, knowing this time, we wanted an audience. The exhibitionist thrill from our first patio blowjob, but amplified. I could already picture it, the chlorine-scented steam, the glow of underwater lights catching on Jim’s wet skin, the muffled splash of our bodies, his low grunts mixing with the hum of the jets.

“Fuck,” I breathed. “Yeah. I’m in.”

Jim’s grin turned predatory. “Good. We’ll plan it for a Friday or Saturday night, give him time to clear his schedule.” He squeezed my knee, then slid his hand higher, palming me through my jeans just enough to make me shift. “I want to fuck you slow in that water, feel you clench around me while he’s watching. Maybe bend you over the edge, ass up, water dripping off us. Let him see every inch disappearing inside you.”

My hole clenched at the vivid image, still tender and slick from earlier. “You’re gonna make me hard again before I even leave.”

“That’s the plan,” he chuckled. “Next Monday’s too far. Let’s make this hot tub thing happen soon.”

We sat there a few more minutes, hashing out rough details, timing, what to bring (lube, towels, maybe some drinks to keep it casual), how blatant to be with the neighbor invite. By the time I stood to go, the anticipation was buzzing under my balls like electricity.

Jim walked me to the door, pulled me in for one last deep kiss, slow, possessive, tasting faintly of the beer he’d cracked open while I showered. “Drive safe, Dick,” he murmured against my lips. “And start thinking about how you want it in that hot tub. I want details next time.”

I left with a stupid grin on my face, ass still tingling, mind already racing ahead to steam, water, and prying eyes.