A gay sex story: Ex-Girlfriend’s Bed
Wind gusted causing branches to tap on the window. That noise, however, was drowned out by the grunts and moans coming from her bed. My God, if Mariela could see me now! But I was definitely feeling an immense satisfaction powered by the fact this was taking place in her bed.
Ok, I should back up a bit, but don’t worry, I won’t take too long. First thing you should know is that Mariela and I dated for about a year just about six months ago. When we parted we were somehow able to remain pretty good friends. In fact, I started housesitting for her most holidays, taking care of her cats while she visited family, spent a night in the city, travelled the world. It became a normal thing.
Second thing is that Mariela knew I liked men. I still new where she kept her toys. I knew there were going to be condoms right next to them. And yet, somehow, I never took advantage.
Well, I never took advantage until this past Christmas.
I’d spent Monday night in bed with her, with Mariela. We fucked like rabbits, all through the night until the first rays of the sun poured over the mountains. Then we slept. We didn’t sleep together often, but somehow, this time, it felt right. I slept a lot longer than she. When I woke at midday, there was a note on the kitchen counter.
“I’m headed off to see my fam. Have fun. And remember: it’s okay to have people over. ;)”
I quickly got on my phone. All my friends were out of town or with family: It was Christmas. How could I have a party at her place if no one was around? Who could I even get over here?
I went to work that evening, Christmas Eve, expecting to be out of there early. I’m a bartender in a fairly small city. Most of the patrons were locals, and most had other things to do that night besides drinking themselves silly at a bar. In fact, Darren finally headed out with a slurred “Merry Christmas” around 9:30, but I waited a full hour before turning off the lights. That last hour was filled with washing dishes, restocking, wiping down the bar and sweeping up, so it wasn’t an hour of wasted time.
Christmas, being that family time kind of holiday, meant that there weren’t many friends available to hang out or chat. So, I decided to check my luck on that all-too-familiar phone app. I opened the app to see if there was anyone online I’d even be interested in. I sent out a few feelers, but no dice. I turned off the lights, locked the doors, and sped to Mariela’s to my unopened bottle of Yamazaki. It was my Christmas present to myself. What better time to open it up?
I pulled in the garage, closed the door, locked the car, and made my way to kitchen door. As I was fishing out my keys, I heard that unmistakable chirp: someone wanted to chat. As quickly as I could I got inside and checked my phone.
“Hey. From out of town visiting family. What are you looking for?”
I always hate when people don’t take the time to read my profile. I mean, sometimes I wonder why I even fill it out. I explicitly stated in my profile that I was looking to suck and get fucked. So, why ask, I say. I ignored the message. Instead, I fed the cats and checked the litter box. A few minutes later, I heard another chirp indicating he’d messaged again.
This time, I was greeted by a beautiful specimen of male virility in all its splendid glory. I could practically taste it, feel the veiny ridges as they passed my lips, smell the musky male body… So, of course I took the time to check his profile. I was about to respond when another message came through.
“I’d love to get some lips on this thing. Think you can help me out?”
As quick as I could, I closed the cats in their spare bedroom. Then I replied, my heart racing with hope.
“Maybe I can. Any other things I can do with this?” I was hoping he’d be up for some anal play. That is, after all, why I was on this app. A dildo only gets my mind so far; sometimes I need the real thing. Plus, the added enticement of cum…
I quickly added, “I’ve got more than one hole that wants to help you out.”
Enough of that. We sent each other face and… other pictures. Based on his pic, he was about forty, had brown hair with a light dusting of gray around the edges, and medium build. I was rather hopeful this would be an enjoyable experience. So, I sent my address, turned the outside lights back on, and waited for the knock. Back in the kitchen, I poured a dram of the whisky, and waited.
I had sipped my way through half of my pour watching basketball highlights before I heard his car pull into the driveway. My heart began racing: I was really going to get fucked in Mariela’s bed! I could hardly believe it. I took a deep breath and waited for him to knock before getting out of my chair. I eased over to the door, checked the peep hole, and unlocked the bolt. I opened the door.
“Hey, come on in,” I offered.
“Thanks.”
I offered a drink, which he refused with a “maybe later.” I led him to Mariela’s bedroom. He chuckled when he saw all the feminine nick nacks. There was no kissing, no embrace, just as we had discussed in our texts.
“So, what? Does a girl live here?” he joked as he undid his belt buckle.
“Actually, yeah. It’s my ex’s place. She’s off visiting family for the holidays.”
“Really? And she lets you use this place to get fucked?”
“What she doesn’t know…,” I let the phrase hang unfinished. Instead, I knelt down and took his gorgeous flaccid cock out of his pants and into my mouth. His muskiness filled my nostrils almost as much as his thick member filled my mouth. He rested his hands lightly on my head, gently guiding rather than forcing his cock further into my mouth. I nearly gagged a few times and gave up on getting him down my throat.
The blow job lasted a good ten minutes at least. He moaned appreciatively, even said something about being a “good boy.” But, as is true anytime I have my lips around a cock, the urge to turn around and take it in my ass grew to nearly overwhelming. I pulled off his throbbing member. He seemed to understand what was going on.
“Let me see this ass of yours.” He helped me up, turned me around, and pushed me onto Mariela’s bed.
“She keeps lube in her nightstand. Bottom drawer,” I directed.
“And condoms,” he replied. “Ribbed? Studded?”
“Normal should work fine. I think your cock has plenty of ridges for both our pleasure.” I giggled and he smiled back over my shoulder.
I felt the cold sting of lube being dripped into the crack of my ass. A thick, beefy finger fumbled its way into my hole coating the passage with lube. He clumsily added more lube and a second finger.
“Whoa! Ease up a bit. Is this your first time?” I asked.
“Sorry, it’s been a while.”
“Great,” I thought to myself. “He’s anxious. This should get pretty rough pretty fast. Wonder if I’ll have the opportunity to even feel good.”
I was worried for no reason. Once he’d prepped my ass, he took his time. I felt him rubbing his cock up and down my crack. He leaned in, his cock at my hole, and for the first time kissed me. I was surprised, but in my confusion, his cockhead had slipped inside me. My breath caught.