A gay story: Beyond Glorious It was the first time actually experiencing what sex with a man could be, far beyond the intensely focused joys offered by a glory hole, something more encompassing, even more irresistible than imagined.
Over the preceding few weeks, the idea of kissing my first man had been growing as a fantasy, a delightful idea that drifted into awareness while stroking my horny cock one morning, still half asleep, a half-dream of desire between thought and erection. The idea grew quickly with a certain intensity, much like that surrounding my first visits to the glory hole, first feeling a man’s touch on my hard cock. The glory hole had been a logical and long not taken step from merely watching another man stroke himself decades ago, masturbating with a good friend, looking at Penthouse, Hustler, or other harder, magazines. The thought of kissing easily merged into an earlier fantasy of actually sharing a booth with a man at the glory hole, feeling the entirety of a man’s body, not merely his skilled hands, sexy cock, or sucking mouth – the first time a man sucked my cock at a gloryhole, he made me hard again after swallowing my pumping cum, and such skills would work easily well kissing.
An opportunity arose to return on a Saturday afternoon to the same erotic complex where just a couple of months ago, a man had just started sucking my cock in a theater chair, after I’d publicly stroked myself to hardness watching hot gay porn – two men stroking and kissing each other’s nipples, then rubbing their hard cocks together as they leisurely kissed. This had been several of the things which had so turned me on the first time actually jacking off to gay porn, in my early 20s.
The complex was also the place I had first played with and tasted a man’s nipples in a ‘pair’ room, touching his cock and my own turned on rod – the room had an L of bench space with a padded section along the wall, more than large enough for several people and any number of positions. The possibilities appeared to have been barely explored then, and plans concerning a second visit kept becoming more urgent, each solitary orgasm thinking about it just adding to the temptation.
Entering this new playground for the second time, a bit of time was spent wandering among the aisles of the porn DVDs before going to the theatres side. With little reason to care whether anyone could see how quickly I went to the gay section, after being bored by the offered DVDs, the obvious simple truth being that the gay section is where hot quick sex is found. My taste for such has been acquired with enthusiasm over the last couple of years at the glory hole. If luck held, the chance to first kiss a man was floating within reasonable reach. Little was happening in the essentially deserted spaces, and checking the straight porn revealed it was fairly boring, the various areas also deserted, excepted for a closed door in one small theater – the complex has both open and private spaces (though one of the ‘private’ theater spaces also has a voyeur space attached to it, overseeing the seats).
Wandering back to the same theater as the last visit, at the back corner of the gay section, any previous shyness disappeared, being replaced by a certain eagerness to see what could happen. Opening my pants and starting to touch myself for anyone to see was a thrill, a familiar mixture of the forbidden and unstoppable causing my heart to race, knowing that a threshold had been successfully crossed again, willingly. Only one other person seemed to be in this area at the time, sitting in the back corner opposite me. I was leaning against the narrow end of the wall dividing the theater from the entrance space, and increasingly kept enjoying myself to porn of a man getting rimmed in larger than life size, his turned on cock well in hand. The unknown watcher moved diagonally, from chair to chair – then next to me, something registered, and though my pulse picked up, it was anything but disturbing.
Now, losing any remaining inhibitions, or so it seemed, feeling a rush of hot lust along the solidly lengthening shaft, stroking with growing intensity to get him hot, growing hotter myself, starting to drift in the idea of the unknown possibilities of a man who wanted to play hot games, ever more delightfully irresistible thoughts beckoning in the tantalizing haze of fantasy and raw lust at hand.
The feel his breath on my cock showed how getting myself hard had affected him, and it seemed clear he wanted to suck it, but though my head turned to look at him, tantalizingly close, my body didn’t turn to his mouth, and just kept stroking, waiting for him to rise, my head turned to keep watching the rimmed man’s stiff hard cock pumped with his partner’s fist, whose own cock was hard, on the floor to ceiling screen. He must have already known that I had been glancing at him as he moved closer, my cock growing in my grip as he did, but now my length was growing rigid, and he seemed entranced by what I was doing. Ignoring him to focus on my own pleasure, showing off, appeared the best way to get him even more deeply interested in what I was curious to explore.
He stood up from the chair, reaching out to touch my cock lightly while rising, growing ever closer, then gently starting to kiss my neck as he felt my quiveringly thrilled cock in his hand. He smelled somewhat of peppermint and other unidentifiable scents, utterly unlike any woman. That this was not a woman was obvious when reaching down to feel his cock in turn, stroking his ass with my other hand.
Touching and kissing lightly, his lips were now on my ears, making me harder and definitely more in the right frame of mind to actually kiss a man, a fantasy already starting to merge into luscious reality. His embraces were pulling us together, but each time his mouth moved from one side of my neck to the other, he didn’t actually linger over my lips, even as our bodies pressed with growing force.
It occurred me that the pint of beer, drank 45 minutes ago, was the reason – but a certain lowering of inhibitions remains part of such explorations, though this time, it might prevent any further chance to actually kiss a man, even as the temptation was growing ever larger. Our cocks had been rubbing almost from the first touch, and it was making me incredibly hot. Cock to cock is something purely male, something more unique than a blow job. As his foreplay began to center on my nipples and armpits, ever deeper fantasies were being replaced by incredibly delightful reality.
My pants were already opened from stroking myself, but after several moments of increasingly passionate contact, he began to unbutton my shirt, and his hand again went to my nipples, spreading open each side of my shirt, and again to the sensitive hairs under my arms. Both are extremely erotic to me, either doing or experiencing, or just watching happen. Now, some stranger was doing me like this in public, as my hips began moving beyond thought, getting totally turned on in open view, not caring in the least.
Neither did he, my hands reaching in turn under his t-shirt, our cocks solidly touching, both of us beginning to breathe more heavily, getting ever more aroused, losing awareness of such trivial details as how obvious our games were becoming to anyone interested in watching them. And at least one other person was, something lightly registered from the corner of my eye, though by the next look in that direction, the person was gone.
After an impossible to measure time of his mouth on my body, our cocks playing, sometimes in my hand, sometimes his, and sometimes together, I lowered my head, and began to kiss his neck, and then lick his ears, hugging ever closer. He seemed maybe 15 years older, a bit shorter, also wearing glasses. His kisses started to grow closer to my lips, so I pulled away from his neck, offering my now turned up throat, which rapidly lowered under his skilled licking. As his mouth grew ever closer to mine, the excitement was becoming unbearable, two men together for anyone to see, and I began moaning about how hot sex with a man was.
He shifted, and started whispering in my ear about how much he was enjoying himself with me. It was the first time to hear a man’s voice in all the times strangers and I have shared orgasms. And now, I wanted the mouth that had spoken in the dark, an intense lust growing between us, two men already far beyond conventional limits, both of us clearly recognizing that sharing such feelings and touches was just the start of what could happen together. Though a beginner, by this point, I had collected enough experience to be open to anything offered, knowing how good all the other times with a man had been.
From his whispering lips to feeling those same lips on my own seemed to have happened in a complete daze, and after realizing that a man was kissing me for the first time, I started to respond, my own tongue meeting his, then reaching my hands for his head, our cocks still grinding against each other in an delightfully unstoppable grind of pure male pleasure. I then truly started to kiss my first man, trying my best to return the feeling he was creating in me. This was more even intense than simple cock sucking, our tongues merging together, sharing tastes and sensations, adding incredibly to our horny cock to cock motion.
We kept kissing, hands roaming over each other, with nipples a particular destination, along with ass cheeks and armpits, and I was growing completely abandoned in his touch, our kissing grower deeper and more intoxicating. My fantasies seemed based on a simple truth – kissing a man was ecstasy, the pleasure merely a taste of what waited to be shared, a feeling that seemed to grow between us.
He unbuttoned my shirt, kissing my hot and erect nipples, then he pulled the shirt down along my arms, completely baring my chest to his touch and tongue, again for anyone to watch, pumping my hips with his fist circling my prick. After a while of this, he actually kneeled, putting my horny cock in his mouth. I was completely overcome, unable to move, already on the verge of cumming, so turned on that just the idea of getting sucked had almost pushed me over the edge, a beckoning escape reinforced by what he was doing. The positioning had been chosen beforehand, anyone could see what was happening – being so public was part of the thrilling newness, even as that fact sank beneath the surface of my aroused state, bathed in sexual satisfaction, beyond any mundane concerns. Concerns which disappear in the slowness of thinking, as the body expands to fill awareness with pleasure, each thought fading into the past, with barely a ripple.
This is one of the most seductive aspects of such games – having all concerns fade away in the total bliss of honest male sex. And married men probably face another hurdle, enjoying the glorious luxury of sex without condoms on a regular basis. Getting sucked with a condom seems completely beside the entire point of feeling soft wet skin contrasting with flowing air and the delicate concreteness of teeth, the subtle variations masted by a skilled tongue, possible to someone possessing true oral skills. To be honest, I have never experienced my cock being sucked covered with a condom, but the parallels between the feeling with and without a condom while fucking a pussy certainly allows some conclusions to be drawn, an awareness of how seductive purely animal sex is compared to its more cautious and often less fulfilling variants.
Following a too brief period of him sucking my erect cock, his hands at my nipples and armpits while slowly taking more of my cock into his wet and willing mouth, he rose, and I seized the opportunity to kiss him hungrily, barely waiting until my tongue could enter his now opening mouth, pressing my lips against his, greedily wanting more. My hands rose to his head, pulling him tighter, then holding him fixed as my tongue explored him in a deep kiss, seeking ever more, getting lost in the experience.
He shared his name, and between maddeningly intoxicating kisses, I shared mine, a certain reluctance being washed away in the recent taste of his mouth, the desire to keep kissing him overwhelming the shrinking desire to remain complete strangers except for the feeling of his hard cock against mine. He kept taking a gentle lead in our growing lust, as my mind melted into a warm pool of sexual release, with a growing awareness that kissing a man truly involved crossing into a new world. Coupled with just how fantastic that world was becoming, one eagerly being rushed into, wanting more. One actually already entered, in public, my cock happily against a stranger’s as our opened mouths met, an awareness which sent shivers of animal lust deeper into my fading sense of self.
He began to say how he would like to see me naked, a very arousing idea from someone who had been kissing so passionately, and asked about sharing a ‘pair’ room with him. At that point, I replied somewhat distractedly, sex with a man was unimaginably sexy, and that though married, such totally seductive lust was something completely new. He laughed, and said he was married too, and ‘clean.’ This was one of only a couple of less than perfect notes throughout our encounter – ‘clean’ means nothing in the face of such lust, and even mentioning it was a small dose of essentially irrelevant reality. We both knew that such trivial concerns had already been taken care of, as our bodies were long past paying attention to anything but their own needs.
After pulling up his shorts and pulling down his t-shirt, he began to leave in the direction of the other sections, after a final kiss which stretched on, leading to our hips moving again, my hands reaching for his nipples, his hand pressing my cock to rock against his, just above his shorts. As he finally turned to leave, I began to follow, but then decided that taking a moment to at least button my pants and close my shirt was a prudent thing to do. Such horniness leads to a complete fogging of rational thought, or even half rational, such as thinking it wouldn’t really matter if anyone saw how completely sex had replaced normal rules with its own logic.
Following him, shirt barely buttoned, my cock was stiff against the still unzippered jeans, and somewhat thankfully, the area was empty, even if I wasn’t really paying attention to such mundane details. My mind seemed to be swimming underneath a golden honey slowness, noticing little until seeing how he had turned into a room just outside the theater, one I had never noticed before – the last time, the layout of the gay section had not really been a focus of my limited attention.
It had been enlightening during the first visit to see how such rooms could be locked, and entering after my new-found partner, it was simple to turn the knob to create a truly private space. He kissed me briefly, then started to undress to his socks, his clothes easily removed. I followed, though unlacing my hiking boots took an almost awkward moment. Naked except for socks, we began touching and getting hard again, the short pause for practical activities over, being erased steadily from memory by what we were doing to each other. The lack of hesitation or doubt on my part was merely a surprisingly distant observation, as we again began to grow closer in intimate and thoroughly erotic ways.
He asked me about how often I came here, a question which just served to increase my desire, replying briefly that this was only the second visit. And adding about on how the first one, a man had sucked my cock by surprise, my fingers on my stroked cock because the porn made me so horny. This time, the burning intensity came from a man kissing me for the first time, discovering how sexy it was to kiss and get naked with a man, how horny sex with a man was making me. He laughed, grew still closer, telling me again how good it was to feel my body against his. This led to our kissing again, rubbing our hardening cocks as our tongues entwined, lips pressing together ever more solidly, hands moving over naked flesh, free to enjoy each other fully in a private space. Clearly, both of us desperately wanted to, with a deeper and stronger feeling than that offered by the frenzy which had resulted when we were in public.
That preceding open display of my horniness was merely foreplay, a process now repeated in private, but compressed. We started to become incredibly aroused, fully involved in sharing purely male sex, two screens on the wall playing gay porn which simply added to the atmosphere, without drawing any attention to itself. Our kissing rapidly led to my moaning as his hand held our cocks again, my hips moving in waves of bliss against him, my cock head feeling his balls as we rocked with growing abandon, his other hand finding my nipple, doing magical things.
After almost surrendering to the tightness gathering in my balls, I pulled him tighter, feeling his ass, enjoying another opportunity to discover that men and women share many of the same basic tastes. And that having a turned-on man’s ass in your hands offers a surprising sensation of power when starting to grab at it, as my cock pushed through his thighs, now covered in almost its entire length with his skin, moaning uncontrollably for the second time about how horny it made me to have sex with a man.
His replies were less hectic, saying in turn how much he was enjoying what we were doing. After almost cumming for another time, a number being lost in the haze, we started talking a bit during a necessary pause on my part, hands wandering against each other’s body. He said that he didn’t often go as far as he had till now with me, and I told him that this was the first time I had ever kissed a man. Our talking led to sentences being reduced to simple words, then to nothing but the contented sounds of kissing and fondling.
Things began to again grow hazy in the fascinating immediacy of the sensations being created between us. The deep satisfaction of our kissing was no longer something merely novel, yet remaining deeply enticing, the forbidden nature of what I was so hungrily enjoying becoming unimportant. His hands and mouth roamed freely, and often, I could do little in response to his skills but melt weakly, offering myself to him. We were both sweating in the heat, and the contact of our skin grew increasingly interesting as I stood, beginning to slide while trying to hold each other tightly, nipples against nipples, cocks against thighs, fingers running easily over sensitive skin, adding to the fantastic erotic tension that kept building even as each new moment brought its own satisfaction. After a while of this, I grew too weak to stand, in part because of how much thrusting my cock had been enjoying, without any restraint.
As I sat, sprawled against the bench, my legs spread wide, cock jutting, he kneeled, starting to suck me the second time. His head moved down, and his lips opened, his tongue touching my cock first, circling the cock head, before he began to lower his mouth, as I watched, fascinated to see a man go down on me. He had a certain technique that was new in my experience – he kept my cock circling against his hot mouth and lips by moving his head. It was an incredible method, especially after he reached upwards, seeking my nipples and armpits, his moving head in perfect accompaniment to the feeling that was building. I had never imagined such purely primal sexual bliss with a man, and when he began to rise to his feet, my head turned towards him blindly, lips parted, wanting his kiss, utterly open in my raw desire, trusting that he shared it, that he would give me what we both wanted.
The taste of his mouth had subtly changed, something slowly registering as we began to again kiss deeply, tongues against teeth, my hands pulling his hair, then running over his cheeks while sucking deeply. After a while, both of us stroking the other’s cock, it occurred to me that the taste in his mouth was my own, a surprising thought as he bent down over me. The kisses grew more passionate after this realization, adding to the awareness of just how far I had already gone in enjoying sex with a man. I was still sitting, legs spread, stroking my cock as he leaned against my torso, my other hand wandering under his arm, across his chest, then slowly down his stomach, reaching his balls and the base of his sexy rod after several tantalizing moments, his attention wandering from me, to what I was doing to him. The balance was shifting apparently, as I tried harder to keep up with his talents, to service him as he had me.
Following a moment or two, he straightened, asking in hurried, breathless tones to suck him, standing in front of me with his cock in hand, at face height. Sitting on the bench, simply too wrung out and immensely horny to stand, my right hand kept furiously stroking myself. It seemed simple to move my head and open my mouth, as he was already so close, and my tongue flicked out to his balls while my left hand moved up to feel his nipples. The smell from his crotch was growing more noticeable, tendrils wrapping deeper into my mind, its sexiness plain as I kept breathing deeply, wanting more of a novel male scent, the smell in charge of my mind, just like a woman’s when she is turned on.
His voice kept murmuring about suck him, so I tried to explain between licks along his sexy balls that kissing a man for the first time was the limit of my explorations, at least in terms of clear boundaries. Certainly we would keep playing as we had, since sex with a man was so utterly wonderful, and no question that my horniness was as apparent to him as it was to me. Saying such basic facts about sex, even thinking about the possibility of sucking a man off, tended to make me stroke harder, leading to ever harder to understand words escaping my lips, about how kinky good sex with a man was, which he seemed to understand, his hands stroking my head and face as he kept talking about sucking his cock, gently pulling me closer to his stiffened length. Being prompted this way led to a certain feeling of surrender, but it was still going too far, my turned head making plain my limits.
But even as my head turned regretfully, my free hand reached around to start feeling his hot, sweaty ass, riding down along the two cheeks to make my intentions completely clear. Drawing him closer even as my hand slid easily over him, my tongue moved, licking down to his balls, his hands relaxing, obviously enjoying the idea of what would soon be happening. Though still intending not to suck him, there was no reason not to do my best to make him as hot as he had made me. My downward moving tongue started to taste his thigh, then moved over to his other thigh, then back fairly directly to his balls. After a short amount of time, as he grew more erect, my finger now clearly circling its destination, his words about cock sucking began to fade into the sounds of a man losing his thoughts in sexual distraction, which had been my goal. At this point, I began to finger his ass, still teabagging his balls, and he began to press himself against my face, as my fingers started to penetrate his smoothly tight asshole, which began to pulse in a familiar way – he was clearly getting off on what I was doing to him. His head was facing downwards, though whether his eyes were closed or opened as I kept playing with my cock was not possible to figure out.
Having a cock so close, with such heady scents, made me almost cum as I kept stroking. The feelings of my sliding fist along the length of my horny cock made it easier for my tongue to move to the base of his cock, as my thoughts were again left far behind by what was happening. I began to lick his shaft, my fingers now a half inch into his ass, circling the rim of muscle, generally the most sensitive area. He began to press against me with his full weight, obviously weakening in the pleasure and wanting more. But as he grew closer, a certain awareness of my own boundaries returned more forcefully, barely keeping my tongue away from his cock head, preventing the temptation, so sweetly beckoning, to wrap my lips against his horny cock, and give my first blow job to a stranger.
Following this stretched out moment of weakening and reforming resistance, my tongue bobbing between his balls and shaft, I stood up, his cock in my hand as I placed my own cock against his slippery wet one, and began to easily move against him, our skin sliding without friction but with intense awareness as we began kissing again, comfortably, our cocks subsiding after such intense but uncompleted activity. Half turning him, his back slid against my front, I continued to kiss his neck the entire time as he moved, sometimes using my teeth, a hand on one of his nipples. After almost cumming while licking between his legs, my cock had started to grow again while kissing.
As he completely turned, my half hard cock slid along the crack of his ass and between his wet thighs, and it felt so good that it was impossible not to start moaning the same disjointed phrases about how good it was to have sex with a man, how horny it made me, how impossible it was to stop. With a hand on his own now stiffening cock, the other firmly rubbing his nipple, I began to move against him, humping him from behind, his cock swinging in the air as I pressed it tight at the base. fingers curled along his gripped balls, moving myself into paradise, mouth at his neck and ears, taste and scent mixing with the raw immediacy of skin against skin.
This was something truly new, as a certain feeling of raw sexual power grew as both of our cocks did, and this time, with the power flowing from me to him, powerless before the lust that was growing within my completely turned on body. He bent slightly, and started moving himself against me, trying to match the pounding rhythm my cock had started, as my hand pumped his stiff length. Straightening, moving a hand from his nipple to his hip, I began to truly ‘fuck’ a man, wanting nothing more than to have my own horniness dominate him completely, knowing how good surrender to a man is, having experienced already experience the same with him and his cock sucking. Reaching around, to make him enjoy himself as much as I was, finally began impossible, as my hand moved from his cock to his other hip, to move his whole body against me, forcing movement to the rhythm my cock wanted, even as he tried to match his motions to what my hands demanded.
I kept pounding him, utterly abandoned in an incredible feeling of freedom, a man underneath me, one who wanted to be there, his own turned on cock happily stroked by the stranger who was getting off with him. Awareness of what was happening added an entirely new level of undeniable thrill – this was true fucking, where the one the doing the fucking and the one getting fucked merged, without ever losing sight of a fundamental fact – both of us wanted nothing else, but both still knew who was being fucked, whose will was overridden by my thrusting rod. As I retreated from another peak, his pleasure clearly increased when my hand stroked his cock again in the same motion as my own, my damp hand sliding along the entire rigid length.
Though not always as we continued – sometimes, I would hold his cock tight at the base, fingers on his balls as I pounded him, his cock swinging each time my thighs pushed against his ass, my cock sliding so good between his clenching thighs, his hand on my cockhead, both of us completely turned on. This was truly male sex, the element of dominance and submission playing its own role in something oddly gentle and frenzied, though this was merely an element, not the entire experience.
Adding to what was going on, the porn playing half a room away kept drawing our eyes, both of us at times clearly watching the scenes while enjoying ourselves back to front, another new position for me, though one he seemed at least somewhat knowledgeable about. The sounds we were making must have been obvious outside of the room, loud moaning and panting, the sharp slapping of our bodies slamming, with words which seemed to float from deep in my throat, fragments like ‘fuck man..so good fucking..man..fucking hot..cock sex..no stop…cock fucking..a man…so good..hard fucking cock…man fuck…sex cock..can’t stop…man fucking…good…fuck…yeah.’ Words are always arousing, and the more turned on I am, the more easily they flow.
Yet, it did become possible to stop, after again almost cumming between his legs. He turned, and after kissing again, gently motioned for me to sit, as my legs had started to weaken from the work they had been doing – such obvious evidence of how physical our fucking had been was surprising. He was still standing, his cock near my face, inviting another chance to deeply savor the scents of sex, which had grown deeper and more overpowering. Conversation bridged another break, though this time, at a much more higher state of excitement, his cock in my hand. I talked, somewhat haltingly, about what had aroused me to reach this point, having such incredible and unstoppable sex with a man just met, a stranger except for like minded desires. Telling him about getting off so good from gay porn the first time, men licking nipples and armpits, and how good it had been to feel a man turn me on so completely doing what had first been seen years ago.
My hand had again wandered back between my legs, and after touching behind the bottom of my balls, an always surprisingly sensitive spot, my rigid cock was again well in hand. It had become impossible for me to leave it untouched for any amount of time, whether by myself or against him, a strangely exuberant desire overcoming any inhibitions. My side of the conversation became halting. My other hand had gone to his balls, and we started leaning closer together, talking about how unbelievably good sex with a man was, something I had never truly grasped before. This made him grin in the dimness above me, and he asked about getting fucked in the ass, his hand on my nipple, starting to tweak it so skillfully. Though the specific words were not easy, the thoughts flowed like honey, adding to the incredible horniness which had overwhelmed me. I began to talk about anal sex, hesitantly, due more to what he was doing to me than admitting such truths to another man, even one I had been having sex with.
However, with the conversation moving that way, the fact that I hadn’t brought a condom was a stark reminder that there was no way that such games were going to happen this time. As consolation, I began to again lick his temptingly close balls, feeling his soaked skin as my hands made patterns over his body. The sweatiness of our sex was almost unbelievable. We had already started to become damp outside in the cooled theater area, something which had surprised me at that point, but by now, we seemed somehow oiled, skin sliding smoothly as we rubbed and embraced, the feeling generated between his thighs for my cock unimaginable (which wasn’t in the least sore, a fact that didn’t even register then). Though it had started before ever entering the room, it grew more interesting, from simple dampness to slippery wetness, something which we both noted to our mutual enjoyment.
Certain rules were clearly defined, but other lesser concerns were disappearing. Such as how other men had been doing the same thing in the space we were now using, as I began to comfortably sprawl against the padding, no longer merely on its edge. Or what marks we might leave on the other, as his fingernails began to scratch my back as I sucked one of his balls deep into my mouth, my tongue sliding against skin stretched tight. After doing a thorough job on one, before doing the same to the other, I wettened the index and middle fingers of my left hand, my right hand occupied in jacking off. With my fingers again at his asshole, sucking his other ball, tongue and teeth playing together against a round and firm nut. He pulled back, which just drove me fingers in deeper, and again started talking about sucking him off. Though my tongue couldn’t resist again licking the bottom of his shaft, it was clear that cock sucking was not something I would be doing to him, remaining a boundary for another time.
Oddly, he seemed to understand the underpinnings behind the self-imposed rules, easily grasped when contrasted by how fantastic sex already had been between us. There was no reason to get greedy, and he seemed to accept my refusal with grace, kneeling again, beginning to suck me off, hands again reaching for my nipples, making me powerless against his talents and knowledge of what men deeply enjoy. Stopping briefly, telling me to kneel on the bench, he stood. Kissing became possible, his hand holding both our cocks, as I began moving my hips, our mouths attached again, a sense of completeness that was not interrupted when he started moving his tongue down my neck to my nipples, pausing at each, then slowly further down, his hand remaining on my cock even as his cock pulled away downwards.
Still kneeling, leaning back against the padding, his tongue was again between my legs, teabagging my hairy sack, his other hand stroking my thighs lightly. I was floating in pure sexual bliss, and as time went on, the glorious haze returned, the present removing all awareness of time or concern about getting off with another man. He sucked and stroked me, his fingers going from the base of my now slippery cock to between my legs, lightly touching my ass. At that point, having almost cum again, I shifted so as to be able in turn to kiss and caress him, our bodies pressing tightly, sliding against each other.
He asked me to stand, so with my feet now on the bench, my cock was literally in his face, a fact obviously suiting both of us. I leaned back as he took me in his mouth again, and felt myself grow against his lips and tongue as he made me hard again, after almost cumming for what was easily the 5th or 10th time, no longer able to count. At some point, I opened my eyes, and turned my head against the wall, watching the porn. I felt myself spinning into a hot whirlpool, the combination of getting sucked off while watching men have sex fantastic, and feeling the cum rising in my balls. I began to hold his head, saying ‘no, no’ as I approached orgasm, which then suddenly changed to ‘YES’ as I grabbed him firmly, pulling him against my unstoppably thrusting cock, wanting to force him as deep as possible along my turned on length, to pump him full of hot semen.
Almost surprisingly, this shift from passive to active actually cooled things a bit on my side, even as it seemed to inspire him. Several more times, porn completely ignored, I would try to stop his enthralling mouth from its magical motions, and end up losing control, saying ‘YES – YESSS’ and starting to fuck his face. Somehow, it was if he was knowingly amused by such behavior, both reverting to a core of sweaty male animal rut, with him underneath me, a feeling of power again pouring itself into the mixture, my hard cock the center of our universe.
However, the power of reversal itself had been part of how our game was played, and so stepping down, almost drained, half-erect, I kissed him again, the taste in his mouth from his cock sucking more intense than before, as my tongue sought to reach deeply into his wonderful mouth, his tongue doing the same in reverse. Finally breaking another bout of frantic kissing while our cocks played and our bodies rubbed wetly, I licked down his chest, pausing at his nipples, sucking and lightly biting them in turn as he held our cocks together, so slippery smooth against the other. My tongue began its journey downwards, leading him to again moan about sucking his cock, though both of us knew it would not happen, moaning which grew as my tongue slowly reached his cock, sliding down to again lick his balls. I was again sitting, and the smell reaching my nose was indescribably enticing, thoroughly primitive and male, truly equal to anything ever enjoyed with a woman.
Repeating what he had seemed to enjoy before, I moved a hand that had been holding and stroking his ass to my lips, wettening a couple of fingers – put one, then another in his ass, hand on his cock, which had been moistened with spit from my again ‘straying’ tongue, licking his balls while stroking his now lubricated cock, causing him to rock against my fingers, which also just happened to make my tongue slide again along his shaft, moving from his balls to the base of his stiff cock. As always, having fingers in someone’s ass made me fully erect, so after a short time, I stood again, at this point somehow silently regaining charge of our pleasure, turning him purposefully, his back rubbing against my chest, my jutting cock sliding so good between his ass cheeks. My hands were again on his nipples, my mouth at his neck, and at some point, he bent slightly, and reaching behind, pushed my cock through his legs again, starting to move invitingly.
This time, my cock knew how good this game could be, and after only a few strokes, the sensations began to overwhelm me, an unbelievable intensity again washing away everything except the urgent need to fuck him harder, his ass slapping against me. Our rhythm settled into a clear pattern, my cock pounding between his sweaty thighs, his balls against the shaft. It was fantastic, even better than the first time we had played this way, and it took me a while to realize why it was so good. He had been holding my cock against his as we moved, our cocks touching, each feeling the other, a game of cock fucking.
This was the first time in my life of wanting to truly fuck a man, wanting my hard cock to pound him to our mutual pleasure, him clearly the one getting fucked. A kinky thought, one without many overtones, except the shared truth that my hard cock was in charge of both of us, and we both loved it, my hands returning to his hips, positioning him while thrusting into the sweaty pleasures he willingly offered. This was fucking in a way never before experienced, though accidentally discovered, my desire building against his, his surrender to the pleasures of what was being done to him at the base of my own abandoned lust. I was freely riding the waves of ecstasy guiding my cock, only surfacing to dive in again harder against his now bent body, both of us grunting as we moved.
My hands gripped his hips as we slammed against each other, faster and harder, my back arched, standing at full height over a stranger, riding him, making him match his motions to mine. My hands firmly slowed his own pumping several times just before reaching a jetting orgasm, or afterwards, pull him harder with unstoppable force, taking him however I wanted.
On the border of cumming, I slowed to savor the feeling of his balls sliding along my shaft. He turned, starting to kiss me again, bodies pressing as tightly as possible, wanting ever more contact. His hands wandering over my balls and nipples, he began to whisper in my ear about cumming on him. Odd as it may sound, the idea of cumming on someone is something which has always seemed a bit beyond the point, somehow, something which too much porn seems to think is the peak of sex.
Not that I wasn’t still completely horny as he suggested it, yet the dawning awareness of dealing with the practicalities of cumming and leaving led to the conversation shifting, even as he kept on repeating how good cumming on him would be, fondling my cock and balls determinedly, his other hand running electrically between my nipple and under my now uplifted arm, hand on my head, lightly touching the curly hairs, a refined pleasure, one I normally have to show my partners.
Talking was difficult through the fog so seductively drifting over my mind, but I began to work out that cumming was something I needed to do, after putting it off successfully over so many opportunities. The idea of fucking my wife after such a kinky afternoon seemed an elegant solution, one which escaped my lips without my thought. And yet, at the point of mentioning my wife, I felt a charge go through me as we continued to grind more urgently against each other. Various details started to be approached as problems to be solved here and now. Cumming in the shower at home appeared the best way to tie together all the various open threads – how completely I smelled of him, how sweaty I was, the pressing need to cum quickly and hard. The smell of our encounter was overpowering, as we had both shared ourselves with abandon, rubbing and stroking as much as possible, kissing deeply, hands covering everything within reach. But the possibility of stopping at the local lake, and swimming nude, took care of the major problems, and with luck, could also be used to cover changing my clothes promptly at home, since they would unavoidably absorb something of what had occurred during the drive home.
Speaking such thoughts out loud became more difficult when he squatted down, and started sucking my totally aroused cock. It was strange to think that two married men could get each other so hot, but maybe there are more levels to this game than male/female and individuals. By this point, the balance between leaving soon and cumming wildly was level, and eventually, it was possible to weakly stop him, even if the familiar ‘no, no – yes, cock suck, YES’ response had happened a couple of times beforehand, his mouth irresistible.
I was weakening, but his mouth did leave my cock as he gently pushed me down at the corner of the L shaped benches, his mouth guiding mine as our kissing resumed. And to my delight, he again squatted, and continued his blow job. I was getting lost in his mouth, an awareness which slowly grew enough to cause me to move. He again talked about how good it would be to cum on him, and with my legs spread, feet on the bench itself of the floor, he went down hungrily. Repeating the sequence, I went to my knees trying to shrink away, but the wall was at my back, and his mouth was again well positioned, sucking me so good.
Instead of moaning, disjointed words about fucking my wife’s pussy filled my mind, which slowly allowed it to actually imagine the need to shower, including cumming there instead of here and now. Neither aspect was very effective in slowing down the feeling gathering in my balls, so I scrambled up to a standing position, and realized that I was still cornered, literally, a situation leading to indecisiveness, which meant that actually a decision was made by doing nothing. As his mouth continued its games with my throbbingly erect cock, any final resistance was undercut, overwhelmed by his skills and persistence. The game of ‘no…no… YES’ became earnest, and I was drowning, with my hands holding tightly to him, beyond conscious control, wanting to cum deep in his throat.
This final, dimly recognized realization led me to break away from the corner, contact being broken while scrambling to escape the orgasm which somehow kept building against my will, weak as it was by then. Too weak, as my hand went again to my wonderfully wet and slippery cock, no longer able to stop, lost in a primal fog of sexual need, not caring about anything. Sitting in the middle of the longer bench, stroking myself in a daze of contentment, no longer able to muster any strength to resist the orgasm welling slowly, the feeling in my tight balls unstoppably rising. Somehow distantly majestic in its overwhelming presence, beyond any thought of controlling. My cum simply started flowing, a state of total freedom, getting off with another man.
My head had lolled back, eyes closed, before the first waves of primal joy started washing over me. This time, such a slow and deep orgasm meant that opening my eyes was possible, especially knowing how it would add to the thrill. A thrill which had already moved to a higher level, as his murmuring words began to reach deeper than my ears alone. My vision widening lazily, I could watch him moving in front of me, the words about cumming on him clearer as he stood against me. It was simple to guide my cock and pump cum downwards against him, his hand stroking his hard red cock as the hot cum kept fountaining. His hand and cock sliding against me, I could see white semen dripping down from the tip of my cock onto him while he stroked, getting him totally turned on.
His breathing and stroking started to become more obvious as my own orgasm subsided. My body was completely wrung out, sprawling along the bench, and watching him cum was perfectly easy to do. He stepped back, vigorously fisting his rock hard length, straightened, mouth opening slackly, eyes closing, and began to cum. After a moment or two, it was clear he was cumming on me, pumping his own cum against my cock and pubic hair. As my hand still encircled my softening cock, I knew, with certainty, that this time, the sensation being felt was a man’s cum on my cock. It was a small shock to realize how incredibly hot it was to feel a man cum on you. His cock was peaking in ecstasy above my totally spent body, and watching the first man I kissed cum was a perfect end to an unexpected interval of pure sex.
Slowly, unwillingly, practical details began to intrude. Most of our cum was on each other, but we hadn’t prepared for cleaning up in the first rush of our kissing, and afterwards, such thoughts were irrelevant. We cleaned ourselves using tissues, talking quietly about how good it was. He asked if we could meet again, as he would there again Sunday, but my replay was gently negative, since such special conditions were not likely to be repeated.
This was not the first or the longest time I had actually experienced such a magical interval, and the conditions between those two times had some interesting similarities – I had spent the previous day driving fourteen hours with my wife back from a French nude beach, and hadn’t had any sex for a couple of days beforehand. The other time I had been lost in such total sexual release was after driving from Santa Fe to the east coast with an old girlfriend, stopping for only one night, then arriving home exhausted. And after sliding into bed, spending the next five hours in what may have been the best sex of my life.
As I drove away, noticing the time was 5:30pm, it meant that roughly an hour and a half had been spent kissing my first man. And going to the lake, stripping and swimming in the cool water of the early evening, simply added to a certain feeling of pure natural contentment.