To the readers who are about to undertake this: This is the first time I’ve written a disclaimer for any of my stories – fiction or non-fiction; but for this story I feel compelled to offer you an out before you start reading, if you choose to take it. This is the story of a first sexual experience that ultimately served to clarify his awareness of his love for men. That was me, and it was, assuredly, at my instigation, my seizure of an opportune moment to seduce my best friend’s HOT older jock brother. Said SMOKIN’ hot older brother was just an actively-hormonal young man, and I took him by surprise while he was asleep.
It’s also the story of a bunch of middle-aged horny gay men, sitting around at dinner, telling stories like we tend to about sex. And enjoying the hell out of it! Hope you enjoy – I know my husband’s and my friends did at dinner last week when I told the story!
We’re still friends, by the way, the now-mid-fifties older brother of my childhood best friend – FRIENDS! – though we were more than that decades ago. And he’s still, to this day, SMOKIN’ hot!
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A Dinner With Friends Turns Into Dirty Story Time
- by Billy C
“DUDE! That is the HOTTEST first-time story I’ve ever heard.”
Five gay men out for drinks and dinner. Of course the conversation was more than seventy-five percent about sex.
“You haven’t heard Billy’s first time story yet,” I heard my husband’s snarky baritone to my left.
“The fuck!” I blurted out. I mean, aren’t some things you tell your husband supposed to stay private? Wait, right – we’re a bunch of bromos . . . of course not!
“Hey, if it’s hotter than a former pro soccer star who’s your prep school coach in the pile of dirty, sweaty uniforms, then it must be FUCKING HOT!” our friend Danny, the newest of our friends and also the newest to the gay world after coming out when he was over forty, exclaimed. The lurid fascination was effervescent . . . and the others all clamored.
I looked at my sexy husband, who still had his arm around my shoulders, but was sort of laid-back in his chair with a self-satisfied, teasing look on his face as he grinned at me. Meanwhile, the other three guys were nearly causing a commotion with their taunts and pleas for my story. “OKAY!” I finally said, to shut them up and not get us thrown out of the swanky steakhouse.
My husband regarded me with a bit of a skeptical gaze at that point, and his meaning was clear: THE REAL STORY. And then he winked at me and absently rubbed his everpresent bulging crotch, which sent a flash of heat through me from my nuts to my scalp . . . as it always did. “Well, if you insist,” I said, with a tone of naughtiness that no Marine would normally ever employ.
“OH, I can’t wait for THIS!” our friend Dave growled, getting himself settled with his thickly corded, heavily pelted arms on the table, leaning forward.
“So my best friend and I were having a sleepover—“ I started, but two of them interrupted me.
Dave’s booming growl squelched William’s exclamation. “Ah, the hot BEST FRIEND,” he blurted, with air quotes around that last part, continuing, “Hormones raging, probably sweaty after wrestling practice or something, a singlet and bollocks flying about—“
My turn to cut them off. “Uh, actually . . . “ I let my word draw out, instantly capturing all of them, catching my husband’s sexy smirk. “It was Duane’s birthday, the occasion.”
“Yeah, and I bet we’re not going to hear that there wasn’t much SLEEP involved!” William finally got his jibe in.
“Well, actually,” I mugged, and drew that out until they were nearly causing a commotion with “Yeah, I knew it!” and the like. “Actually,” I continued, “Duane got a great night’s sleep. It was his older brother who didn’t get much sleep.”
That got them. Knowing and lascivious expressions of awe at what was to come greeted me in silence. “Ready for me to tell this story now without the interactive feedback?”
My husband chuckled and then added, “Believe me guys, when I alluded to HOT, this is like a thousand fantasies we’ve all had, with a special touch or three only my husband, the General, could add.”
I still hadn’t warmed to his updated term of endearment for me. We’d long been “Colonel” – me – and “Counselor” – him – obviously cheeky jibes at our respective difference. He’s the refined, educated, suited attorney. I’m the retired Force Recon Marine. And the upgrade in the rank that was his term of endearment for me was purely paperwork – negotiated during a two-year post-retirement contract back at the Pentagon, never served in action. I took it from Jim and my stepson in the mirthful spirit it was intended, but it still wasn’t quite . . . me.
“Okay, okay, don’t get their hopes up too high here, Counselor. But I’ll let you decide,” I added, having turned back to the three who were my eager audience.
“So we’re celebrating Duane’s birthday.” “We’d had pizza. We’d been taken to the movies by my mom before that. My mom had met a friend at the movie, and they sat in the back of the theater, while Duane and I sat in the front row by ourselves at King Kong.” That caused a guffaw or two as I inserted a well-timed pause to take a breath.
“I’ve heard that’s Jim’s nickname for you, Billy!” Dave snarked.
I thought about telling Dave the joke about the horse crying at the bar, but I decided to stay on point. “Whatever!” I laughed. “We were having a great time. My mom dropped us off for the sleepover.
“Duane’s older brother, Steven, was home for his last weekend before returning to school for his final months as a senior after the holiday break. Duane’s parents were gone. And yes,” I quickly added, before they could say it, “Duane’s family was rich, a lot like someone ELSE we know,” I nudged Jim, the only one of us who grew up in a house bigger than the governor’s mansion. “So spending an overnight at his house and the next day planning to swim in their INDOOR pool . . . well, FUCK yeah it was going to be a fun birthday, a party of all of Duane’s friends planned for the next day. If only we’d had Chuck E Cheese back then!” I added for the laugh . . . and got it.
It was near midnight, and we settled with with the ice cream and started to watch Saturday Night Live on their huge TV. I SWEAR their TV in their rec room – like who, other than my husband, of course, had a rec room that wasn’t really just a part of their basement with a broken sofa and maybe a ping pong table?! – well Steven’s and Duane’s was amazing, and the screening area alone was fucking HUGE, like being at the movies again.
“Now I should add that Steven was HOT!”
“OH NOW we might be getting somewhere,” William exclaimed.
“If you shut up, we’ll get there, too,” I admonished. “ So Steven’s hanging out in his tight boxer shorts and white gym socks, with the fireplace raging – and that fireplace was huge, too, it was the size of our living room! – and I’ll admit that I was NOT watching that huge TV; I was watching Steven’s tight boxers and gaping fly . . . “
“Ooooooooooooooooooooooo,” was the collective reaction to that.
“When Saturday Night Live was over, Steven asked us if we wanted him to clear out, and I probably said way too quickly, ‘NO WAY! We want you to hang out with us!’ Fortunately Duane idolized his big brother – in a SLIGHTLY different way that I did! – and agreed with me.
“So Steven asked what we wanted to do, and it was a couple of rounds of ‘I dunno, what do you want to do?’ before Steven kind of said, with great gravity, ‘You’re about to become men. Wanna learn a secret men know that’s really cool?’ Well, you can imagine that our lethargy was immediately replaced with interests piqued.”
The other guys didn’t even make any jokes at that. They were now enrapt.
That got a round of “Ewwwwwwwww”s from the guys, including one from my husband, who knew what was coming, and that it wasn’t all THAT far off the mark.
“Pervs!” I admonished them. “ANYWAY . . . Steven leaned forward on the sofa he had been kicking back on, and spread his amazingly muscled, hairy legs wide, and put his elbows on his knees. And all I saw – other than noticing his WIDE shoulders, muscled torso, amazing legs and huge feet – was his gaping fly and his dark, bushy pubes and THICK stalk of his cock and the outline of the rather substantial rest of it trapped in his strained boxers.
“He – Steven – more quietly continued and said, ‘I can show you guys this man-secret . . . but it has to be OUR secret, guys, really. This is something older men pass on to younger men, and young men share with each other, but we NEVER talk about who brought us into the brotherhood of men who know about it. We have a deal on that? It’s OUR secret?’ he offered, leaning even farther forward, so that the shaft of his fat, soft cock was practically bulging in an arc out his gaping fly. At least, this is what I THINK I remember he said; I can’t be QUITE sure, what with my attention on the other obvious details!” That got a laugh.
But they were all quiet. Which for this bunch was clear evidence of their interest.
“So Steven made us spit-shake, pinky swear and cross our hearts and promise. And then he proceeded to show us how to . . . jack off!”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Dave growled, and I’m absolutely sure that his hand that was under the table wasn’t just resting there, if you get my drift.
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Danny exclaimed at the same time.
William was just staring at me, leaning across a little, anxious.
“He took off his boxers like it was nothing and DEMONSTRATED . . . right there. He narrated the entire thing, and taught us amazing and wonderful things, mysteries I’m sure some college guys haven’t even learned yet. How to stimulate your balls, to ride the edge of the pain. How to stimulate your taint. To tease your asshole and slowly test entering yourself. How to spit on your cock to jack it if you’re cut – which both Steve and Duane were, and I am not, which Steven commented on favorably, totally stoking my confidence after having been the weirdo in my change room encounters at school up to that point – so you don’t chafe. And did I mention he had a HUGE, PERFECT cock he was DEMONSTRATING with?”
“Now wait just a damn minute!” my husband mugged, and everyone laughed.
“I didn’t have much man-cock to judge against, now did I?” I shot back. “But his is still in the all-time top ten!” I added, giving my husband back some of his own, and getting laughs all around.
“So this hairy, Greek-god-bodied jock with this MASSIVE cock and huge, hairy, bouncing balls, stroked himself, EDGED himself – yes, he taught us that – and then blasted what is still to me this day one of the most impressive loads I’ve ever seen . . . up his ripped abs, pecs, neck, chin, face and into his dark, curly hair, amidst moaning and growling that is better than any porn I’ve yet seen this half-of-a-life later.”
All three of them were panting by then, and at least two of them were obviously rubbing their cocks through their pants – at least I assumed they hadn’t whipped them out! – under the table. And a glance to my husband’s crotch told me he was as excited as the first time I’d told this story. And true to his nature he made absolutely no effort to move himself so the table hid his obscene display of arousal! THAT got ME hot right there and then!
“OH MY FUCKING GOD – there’s MORE?” Dave actually squeaked, something that rarely happened with his naturally deep timber.
“THEN . . . Steven told us several VERY helpful hints about cleanup, ranging from washing up instead of just wiping off, because the smell of a guy who has just cum is noticeable, so we’d be dead giveaways . . . and he probably knew we’d be doing this A LOT!” Another laugh from the table. “To NOT to use our bed linens, t-shirts, underwear or socks to wipe up the cum, because it was obvious when the laundry was done.”
“Thorough,” William said, and I swear he was panting in time to the movement of his left hand under the table!
“Oh, guys, you think THIS was it, don’t you?” my husband taunted them.
“WHAT?!” Danny cried, loud enough to attract attention from other tables in the restaurant. “Oops,” he quickly said, sheepishly.
“So after that, Steven wiped up what got on the leather sofa and the wall behind his head – YES he did! – and got up and walked off completely butt naked and went to bed.”
“NO FAIR!” Dave cried foul at my husband. “You had us drooling for more!”
“Uh, I suspect you ARE drooling,” I teased crudely, glancing obviously to the table, eliciting a rare blush from my brash alpha top friend.
“And then . . . “ I started again, eliciting some reactions from my friends who didn’t know if I was serious or not. “Then Steven had gone, and Duane and I had a really awkward conversation about ‘trying IT’ until I finally said the ‘what the fuck’ and whipped my dick and nuts out. And we did.”
“OH HO!” Danny cried, thinking that was it, with similar utterances from the others.
“Oh, guys, it gets WAY better,” my husband said quietly. “Seriously. Billy, get them to the good part. Otherwise, they’ll have soiled their slacks before you get there,” he pled their case, with a laugh.
“Okay, so we did it. ME, successfully. Duane, not so much. And I’m absolutely certain that my mind being filled with every detail of Steven’s body, noises he made, the way the veins in his cock throbbed and his huge helmet head pulsed as he stroked and fingered himself, biceps and forearms rolling with his muscles, that’s what made all the difference for me. NO, mine wasn’t a massive load like his. But DAMN did the feeling blow me the FUCK away!”
“Oh Jesus!” Dave exclaimed, and he started to shake a little.
“Slow it down, Dave. It gets better.” This time it was I who made the promise of more.
“I’ll add, just because Duane and I were GREAT friends, at least then, I offered to ‘help him’ next time he tried.” That elicited a lot of jeers from my friends. “And then we talked for a while about how long you had to wait until you tried again, a whole bunch of stuff we THOUGHT then was very secret and special and probably set rules or physical fact we hadn’t yet learned. What a fucking joke.
“Then we went to bed, too. I was bunking in Duane’s room, which had been his older brother’s when he was younger. It was fucking HUGE compared to my room, and it even had two beds, for ease of friends staying over, and apparently we’d got to the age to enjoy it.
“Duane was asleep practically before his head hit the pillow, but not me.”
“OH!” William exclaimed. “NOW I know where this is going. Bet you woke up after you finally did go to sleep – IF you did go to sleep – with no skin left on your dick and reeking of cum!”
“WELL . . . “ I started, “Not exactly! What actually happened was I laid there for probably an hour. And ALL I could think about was how HOT Steven looked and how much cum he shot and . . . Well, you see where my thoughts were.” They nodded jerkily, totally hooked.
“UNTIL . . . I finally got up and . . . “ I paused for the sake of suspense.
“YOU FUCKING DIDN’T!” Dave gasped. “Wait, what am I thinking? OF COURSE you DID! It’s YOU! GO ON for Chrissake!” He had joined the other two with one hand under the table, telltale movement of his shoulder and (massive) biceps bulging and rippling in his shirt sleeve.
“Went quietly to the WING of the house where I knew Steven had his own ‘apartment’,” I air-quoted and rolled my eyes toward my husband, whom I knew as a teenager had been granted his own residence in the form of a small home that connected to his parents’ main house.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Danny exclaimed, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the grandeur of Duane’s and Steven’s family home.
William looked like he was too excited to construct intelligible words.
Dave’s biceps and shoulder cap bounced faster in his tight shirt, and his eyes smoldered.
I grinned, enjoying every minute of it. I glanced at my husband, who looked a little smug at having been the instigator, him knowing full well how much I was enjoying it. When he gave me a wink, my breath caught a little, my nuts jolted, and I really wanted just to drag him away to somewhere I could fuck his brains out.
“I found his room on the fourth or tenth try, navigating through a house that was even bigger than I’d realized,” I continue, with a roll of my eyes to the last part, again edging my audience. “And when I did, there he was, laying on his bed COMPLETELY naked, with a half-hardon, that still, to this day, was bigger than most men’s fully-hard cocks. Oh, and he was snoring just a little – very low-volume, deep, growly and FUCKING HOT!”
“OH MY GOD I might have to request a break here . . . if I could walk to a stall in the men’s with something to hide my . . . er . . . excitement!” Danny confessed.
“FUCK THAT!” Dave snarled. “Go on, Billy. PLEASE!”
William just nodded enthusiastically.
“I was on a mission by that point, and Steve was sound asleep. I went slowly, quietly, as stealthily as I could, my own hardon stretching my boxers uncomfortably and making my steps difficult as I did. I didn’t realize it at the time how many times I’d have THAT experience through my life!” I laughed.
“I stood by the foot of his bed for a minute, figuring I could just dive to the floor at the foot of his bed if he stirred. He didn’t. And staring at that cock, I was absolutely certain I had to touch that flared, bared, head.”
“OH HELL YES!” Dave panted.
“So I went to the side of the bed and VERY gently climbed onto the bed and laid down alongside that tall, hot fucker as slowly as I could, making the least motion on the mattress possible. He NEVER EVEN STIRRED. And there I was, my head propped on my elbow, my face fewer inches from that amazing fuckstick than it was long.”
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,” William quietly hissed.
“And that’s when I first SMELLED him. INHALED his scent. OH MY GOD I really swooned. It was SO FUCKING intoxicating. I mean, imagine it – your first WHIFF of MAN. Slightly sweaty, a hot jock who hadn’t taken his own advice about cleaning up after he jacked off, smelling of musk and spunk. I later figured out that aroma. At the time I just knew my entire body was throbbing and READY.
“Oh, and his big, hairy balls . . . ! Up close they were entrancing. Between those fucking nuts right there, inches away, and that cock that I could see bobbing just a little as his bloodflow pulsed. OH MY GOD . . . I knew right then and there that I was going to not only feel him, I was going to TASTE HIM!”
“MY MAN!” Dave shouted and threw his hairy, muscular arm up, across the table, for a high five. “Do you fucking realize I was TWICE your age before I ever was that close to a bare cock? Up to that point all I did was wrestle and rub and grind. AND,” he continued with his typical devilish grin, “Made BIG messes in PLENTY of jocks, singlets, footy shorts . . . “
“GOD you’re a pig! I fucking love it. Jay is one lucky bitch!” William exclaimed, referring to Dave’s hot tech exec husband, back home on the west coast.
Dave, of course, LOVED the compliment. Of all of us, the second-most-vain of our “group”, and that’s saying something, when we have a roid-head bodybuilder (the first-most-vain), two former models, and all of us pretty into our looks and virility. Dave definitely gives our tempestuous, absent, musclehead friend a run for his money in the vain department.
Jim chuckled at my side. “And we haven’t even gotten to actually DOING anything yet, but you guys are all on the edge!” Nobody argued. They just looked back from him to me, pleadingly.
“So . . . first thing I did was . . . “ Three grown men’s breathing all caught, and they all shivered in anticipation at least a little. “I VERY softly, BARELY, rubbed my cheek on his hairy, beefy quad, feeling a bit of crust in his leg fur from a stray splatter of his cum, and INHALED his incredible scent.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Dave panted with urgency, scooting his chair back aggressively, “I’m going to have to take a few minutes for myself here!” He was up and out of his chair, having snatched his light jacket from the chair’s back, holding it in front of him as he virtually RAN to the men’s room.
We all just laughed. Danny called after him, “Yeah, bet it’s more like seconds than minutes – at least that’s what Jay told us!”
William, usually the bawdier of that couple, smacked him, but laughed and enjoyed his partner’s wit.
“Well,” I posed, “Maybe this should be installment one if we’ve satisfied the purpose of getting you horndogs some fuel for your already burning libidos.”
“NOT ON YOUR LIFE!” Danny quickly interjected. “We’re not leaving here until we’ve heard every dirty detail!”
Danny, William, Jim and I all just laughed. And just like that, Dave returned, for once looking rather disheveled and for numerous times, cum-flushed.
“PLEASE, Billy, GO ON with your FILTHY story!” he begged, with a leer.
It was at that point – for no reason I could discern – that my cock began to swell and contort in my boxer briefs and slacks as it thickened and grew in that confined space. Even as I careened toward the milestone of middle age, fifty, UGH!, this was a very familiar and frequent occurrence. What I couldn’t figure out was why it took that long for my cock to respond to my HOT story of my memory and what it was about that particular point in the story that make my cock suddenly awaken. Then, as my words flowed without my really controlling what I was saying, my question was answered.
“The combination of the feel of his fur, his muscle and SMELLing him was nearly overwhelming!” I actually shivered like a horny teenager experiencing sex for the first time.
“WHOA, dude – get a grip!” Danny called across the table. But what I thought was concern wasn’t. “Because I really NEED to hear the rest of this!” he finished.
I couldn’t help but guffaw at that. My cock was throbbing, my friends were about to cum in their pants – although one already had! – and I was laughing. I guess that’s a good thing.
“Well, you ALL know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. The first time you saw, felt, smelt, tasted a naked man . . . “ I trailed off with my memory.
“BILLY!” William prompted.
“Oh, right,” I returned to the moment of the conversation from that moment almost forty years before in a teenage jock’s bed.
“OH MY GOD . . . TASTED a guy for the first time. FUCK! Get to THAT point, would ya?!” Dave demanded.
“UH,” I addressed him, “Haven’t you already gotten your, er, fill of this story?” I teased him.
In response, Dave stood up abruptly and thrust his obscenely protruding crotch at us over the table. Dave is quite well-endowed – very thick, cut and furry, which I know from experience but of course all we could see was the thick . . . and the cut, given that he was apparently commando, as the wet spot at the end of this thick rod’s flared, bulging, well-silhouetted cockhead proved.
“JESUS!” Jim exclaimed. “WHAT have I started?” he moaned, shaking his head . . . but I also noticed that not only was he rubbing my hardon in my slacks, but he was also staring RIGHT AT DAVE’S HARDON! MEN!!!
“MEN!” The exclamation surprised me as it erupted from my lips and entered my ears as it left my lips.
That brought a chorus of surprised responses from the table. Dave flopped back into his chair. “THAT reproachment from the most macho, most piggish man any of us has ever known! HAH!” he nearly yelled, calling out across the restaurant for Gregg, our sexy young waiter to bring us another round. “I really need a drink to slow down here, or I’ll be getting up again before we EVEN get to the tongue action,” he declared.
All of the guys reacted to that. My husband’s reaction was a bit different. Pulling me closer to him, he brought his lips to my ear, and his husky, deep voice – so familiar to me – made me shiver from toes to the tip of my cock. “You have to go to the restroom,” he growled. I started to turn my head, but he pushed his cheek against mine to stop me and added, “I NEED you to go to the restroom with me . . . NOW!”
I almost came, knowing what he wanted. “Excuse me, guys, I need to take a piss,” I blurted, getting up, not caring in the slightest that my own cock’s turgidity was more obscenely displayed than Dave’s had been.
I was vaguely aware of Jim saying he thought it would be a good time to take a trip to the restroom himself, while the storytelling was at an intermission, and I KNEW he was following me. FELT him following me.
Jim nearly shoved me from behind as we got to the men’s room. “I fucking swear I don’t even care if there’s anyone else in here!” I proclaimed as we nearly stumbled over one another as he propelled me into the men’s. I don’t even know if there was anyone else there, being shoved by my husband through the restroom and into a stall.
Jim had his pants down and his ass out before I could even latch the handicapped stall door behind us. When I turned around he was bent over, with his awesomely appealing ass wagging at me. “HURRY!” he growled.
I had my pants open and wrestled my twisted-up cock out and was spitting into Jim’s hole and onto the tip of my cock. Fortunately the drool was flowing, both from my cock and from my mouth, watering with desire for him, and there was at least enough to avoid ripping his fuckhole apart.
“MMMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHHHHHH FFFFUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!” he grunted in pain when I SHOVED into his burning cunt. But he shoved back into my thrust, so I knew he was not only ready, but eager.
I jerked back and savored the scrape of the friction of his tight, not-yet-wet-enough fuckchute around my raging, throbbing fuckclub. Then I savagely speared back into him. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” he cried out as I growled and nearly howled in delight.
He fucked back as hard as I fucked him, and my nuts smacked his swinging sac and his ass and thighs and my thighs as they swung hard enough that the pain was almost as intense as the scrape from the tightness of his red hot hole. Jim has amazing cuntmuscles anyway, and it all just pulled us into the frenzy.
I’ll never know if we were the only ones in the men’s room of that swanky steakhouse – where we go often – when we started or during our fun. And I don’t even know how long it took to fuck the living daylights out of my sexy stud of a husband. I do know that we were both panting and drenched with sweat by the time he let out a yowl he could no longer stifle, and I felt his cuntwalls spasming around my cock as he panted and jerked and splattered his seed all over the tiled wall of the restroom stall. “OHFUCKINGCHRIST!” was all that was intelligible from him amongst a long exclamation of sounds of release and ecstasy as he pumped his nut and milked my cock again and again and YANKED me over the edge and into a nutblast so strong that I nearly lost my footing as I unloaded.
“FUCKGODDAMWHOAGODDAMN I’M—“ My own exclamation was cut off by the intensity of my climax nearly paralyzing every muscle in my body except for those involving the path of propelling my seed through my steel-hard fuckstick, buried DEEP as it blasted my husband’s cunt full of my essence.
Jim reached back around with his left hand and groped at my ass, pulling me farther into him, holding me close as I continued to be wracked by the throes of my release. “OH GOD, BILLY!” he hissed. “I fucking LIVE for this!”
I collapsed against him, and he fell into the wall, still gripping my ass tight. The room was spinning. I was struggling to catch my breath, and my chest heaved against my husband’s back, his ridiculously expensive shirt against my shirt – and in fairness, mine was from his same tailor, custom-made of the finest cotton-silk blend and fitted perfectly to my fairly good physique – both of us sweating stains into them. In fairness, I don’t protest too much these days about my husband’s expensive tastes in clothing and his foisting high-fashion on me – mostly all it took was a come-hither look from him when his eyes flashed while looking at me in something he’d bought me to wear or had his tailor make me something, something of such value that I’d never in my life before him thought I’d ever wear.
I kissed my husband’s sweaty neck, bit him for good measure, eliciting a yelp, and then took a shaky step backward and attempted to stand on my own. “Jesus, we’re going to look like fucking hell if we go back there,” I exclaimed, attempting to retrieve my slacks from the wadded, knotted state they were in around my ankles, as Jim began the same process after having taken some toilet paper and wiping his cock and ass.
“We don’t have much choice. The guys are out there waiting for us, and I SUSPECT they’ve figured out why we fled the table and why we’ve been in here for over twenty minutes,” Jim commented, and I gasped for the first time not from my ragged breathing but because I had no clue we’d been in the restroom that long.
“It doesn’t MATTER because THE GUYS definitely know!” I heard called out by Danny from outside the stall.
Jim’s head jerked up, as did mine, and our eyes blazed at one another. And then we started to bust up, and several sets of hands were clapping and guys whooping from outside the stall. “EMERGE, EXULTED PLAYERS!” Dave cried in an exaggeration of his natural British accent. “CUM – accept your adulation!” he called, cracking up at the finish.
We got ourselves nearly together and then unlatched the stall door and pushed it outward, to a resurgence of the clapping and hoots. But to our surprise, it wasn’t just Dave, William and Dan, but another two guys I only recognized as having seen at another table in the restaurant.
I can’t help camping it up when the opportunity arises. You’ll just have to take my word for the fact that a Marine’s camp – of the non-site or mission variety – is poor . . . and somewhat laughable. I GRABBED my husband, pulled him in tight, bent him over backward and kissed him and groped him like we were just starting instead of having just finished. If the hoots and claps before hadn’t attracted others into the now-crowded restroom, we were dangerously close to doing so now.
I pulled Jim up again to standing, and he was grinning like a fool. GOD! I love that man and love that he loves me!
“Can we PUHLEESE have the end of the story now?!” William pleaded petulantly. “OUR turn for some . . . CUMpletion!” he added, leering. Groans all around at that one.
“Are you sure you haven’t had enough?” Jim laughed, as we all repositioned to where Jim and I could get to the sinks and wash our hands.
“OH NO!” Danny chimed in with his lover. “TWO of us haven’t YET had ANY . . . CUMpletions!” he continued the pun, giving Dave a look of reproach for his earlier trip to the men’s
“Uh, make that FOUR of us,” one of the strangers corrected. I noticed, looking at him in the mirror, that he was HOT, as was his older companion.
The stranger turned his head around and said, “Wait, FIVE of us!” looking at Dave.
“OH, he’s taken care of that already,” William blurted out.
HOT stranger jerked his head from William to look directly at Dave. “YOU TOO? How the heck do I get to be part of this dinner club?” We all laughed, and his less-hot but still very handsome, older companion, locked his arm over his friend’s shoulders. “I’m with him – I want IN!”
“We’re in the middle of the general here,” Dave thrust his hairy, thick-muscled arm and thick index finger toward me, garnering a confused look from the two newcomers, “Telling us the story of his childhood introduction to the sublime joys of mansex. Join us, if you want to have your underwear ruined . . . along with your dignity.”
“HEY!” Jim objected. “Speak for yourself, oh vulgar one. At least we haven’t announced we were going to the men’s room to get off as the entire restaurant observed.”
“Oh, RIGHT!” Dave shot back in my and Jim’s direction with a wide grin. “Just growling, howling and screaming, echoing through the restaurant while you got pounded into the stall wall – MUCH classier!” His last pronouncement was a BIT over-volume as the hand dryer stopped suddenly.
“Come on, boys,” I, surprisingly, played voice of reason. “We’re all just Neanderthal pigs with better hygiene, barbers and tailors. “Anyone want to take a rain check on finishing storytime?” I offered devilishly.
“OH NO YOU DON’T!” Danny protested. “DESSERT! Both verbal and culinary . . . and given where the oral account was going, seems like both are edible!” He laughed at his own joke. The other four of us groaned. The two strangers just looked confused.
“You two are welcome to join us,” Dave offered. Then he turned to us. “Right guys? The more the hornier – uh, merrier. Right?
“WE’RE IN,” HOT stranger quickly pledged, and his companion nodded, mutely asserting his enthusiasm.
Back at the table, a bit more crowded, having expanded from five to seven, the other four – my husband eagerly leading – brought our two new dinner companions up to date on my story. Donald and Evan – Donald was the older man, whom we now knew was a historian at the Smithsonian . . . with a last name familiar to those who knew founding families; and Evan was the HOT younger man, mid-thirties, dark, five o’clock shadow as perfectly cultivated as his messy hair was constructed, lithe but well-muscled, light, intelligent eyes and of undeclared profession.
Jim said later that he thought Evan’s occupation was pleasuring Donald. We don’t yet know.
Oh, sorry, back to the account. Various moments of “OHHHHH” and “OHMYGOD” from our two newer members interspersed the fast-forward recap until we got to a verbatim reiteration of my last, apparently catalytic, sentence. “’Well, you ALL know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. The first time you saw, felt, smelt, tasted a naked MAN,’ he said with a faraway look in his eyes, almost rolled back in his head,“ my husband replayed.
“OH YES!” Donald agreed. Evan was breathing heavily and absently rubbing his tented crotch. Weren’t we here before?
“Okay, guys, that seems to be where we blasted off from,” I attempted to take control.
“THREE of us ‘BLASTED OFF’, GE-NE-RAL!” William jibed. “TWO of US – and I can’t speak for Donny and Evan –“
“UH, that’s DON-ALD, if you PUHLEESE!” that one of our newer additions protested. “But you’re right. We’re with you.” When that stopped William momentarily, as evidenced by William’s raised eyebrows, which then waggled, and he knocked Dan’s shoulder.
“Do you ladies want to hear the rest of this story or not?” I interjected. When they all agreed and quieted down, I tried again.
“Meanwhile, back in the stud’s bed . . . “ and I waited, challenging them silently to interrupt me again but the only response from them was all of them either getting more comfortable or leaning nearer again. “I’m literally feeling dizzy from the SMELL of him, and the feel of his leg fur on my cheek as his body barely moved but did move enough to rub my cheek as he inhaled and exhaled – OH MY GOD! My entire body was like HUMMING, and my head was spinning and full of replay after replay of his huge, throbbing dick in the rec room - I had NO idea what a “cock” was then! – blasted his white goo all over. And I had no FUCKING clue about any of it, just that he smelled like the most amazing aroma and feel and sight I’d ever seen or felt or smelt.”
I stopped to take a breath, because I’d started to get overheated myself at the memory, still vivid, nearly four decades past. My husband knew it. As I noticed that Dave’s hand was in his lap again . . . and a couple of others, likewise . . . Jim gently rubbed the back of his fingers along the side of my neck, causing me to snap back into the present with a jolt emanating from my cock and nuts.
“And for you two,” I directed to Evan and Donald, “Who don’t know me, I’ll just say that this will surprise my friends here when I say that I was SCARED SHITLESS laying there all of a sudden. I was completely overwhelmed with the sensations, but I was scared shitless because somehow that had made it all very real. I’d snuck into a guy’s bed who was six years older, and he’d probably tell his brother what a dumbshit perv I was . . . and also beat me the hell up.”
A couple of “yeah”s were murmured. “BUT . . . Suddenly I remember clearly realizing that if doomsday was at hand, I was going to go out doing the things I wanted to and to know what it would be like to do.” I enjoyed a couple of surprised faces. “So, I inhaled really deeply again, having moved my face closer to his half-hard cock and big, sweaty nuts, my head spun more and I confirmed in my head that, YEAH, this WAS heaven, and about a trillion ideas popped into my head.
“I did my best to move as S L O W L Y as I could and brought my hand up.” I saw several eyes flash and heard a few rasps in breathing – I really had them! “I VERY lightly put my tiny-compared-to-his-HUGENESS, put my hand close enough to feel the heat of that piece of man meat and then, carefully, S L O W L Y, and I don’t think I was even breathing, I FINALLY I touched it, I touched HIM.” I closed my eyes, remembering, sighing. “AND THEN IT TWITCHED! AND he moaned.”
They all were in some state of reaction to my account – mostly barely-concealed panting and self-gratification.
“I FROZE, thinking that he was waking up, knowing that AMAZING feeling of his veiny, heat-radiating man-part might be all I ever got. But . . . he didn’t. He went right on slightly snoring. BUT . . . that cock got bigger in my hand – well, against my hand – it was too thick even half-hard for my hand to fit around it – and it twitched more, got HOTter . . . “
I trailed off, remembering. “OH MY GOD was that HOT!” I exclaimed. “I had this sensory overload AND I suddenly had this feeling of POWER as that cock fully inflated and throbbed harder and twitched as I very gently held it. THEN I decided to rub it JUST a little.
“Now remember I’m inhaling that manscent, feeling his manly fur rub my face, and now feeling the texture of him as he goes from tumescent to RIGID. I was HOOKED. I started rubbing him in strokes increasing in length up that big, long dick of his, letting the flared head knock at the side of my index finger and his very bushy but surprisingly soft pubes tickle my pinkie and the palm of my hand.
“I FELT his blood pulsing in that cock. I smelled him MORE than before – it was nearly a decade before I learned anything about endorphins and pheromones, much less how to detect them by smell! – felt his leg moving more than before as his breathing rate increased, heard his breathing rate increase. But I wasn’t stopping for anything then, and I tightened my grip a bit and felt as much of that cock as I could as I rubbed it from flange of his head to his stalk.”
I looked around, and they were all enrapt, some frozen in place, a couple of them obviously stroking under the table.
“And then I let my hand go up to his tip, rubbed around his gorged head and felt the most amazing thing – slickness, wet, a little gooey . . . OH MY GOD I thought I really had hit heaven. And what sealed it was he MOANED as I rubbed my little hand over that big, drooling, throbbing head of his.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkk!” one of the guys moaned himself – I don’t even know which one.
“I realized that with that slickness I could grip it tighter and still stroke up and down his length. As I did, slid my hand up and down holding that monster cock as well as I could, his moaning became rhythmic, in time to my strokes, and his hips began to gently push himself into it. THAT made me worried about my face on his thigh, so without breaking my pace, I V E R Y slowly got myself onto my knees beside him. I hated losing the feel of his muscular leg against my check and neck, but the new angle above him gave me a great view of his abs, roiling in the cadence of his moans and his hip pushes. And MAN OH MAN did I LOVE looking at those furry abs moving . . . and his pecs . . . and a glimpse or two of his perfect, handsome face glowing in the light of the landscape lights through his windows.
“His precum was flowing, and I swear his cock was WET, not just slick. It was fucking AWESOME!”
“OH YEAH!” Evan gasped, his eyes wide and attentive.
“OH YEAH indeed! I was spellbound and aDICKted.” That got me a couple of awkward laughs around their panting. “Does that mean now I’mASSDICKted, now that I know what I like to do with man parts?” I joked.
“PLEASE!” Dave implored, the always prominent veins in his neck pulsing as he panted and looked anxious.
With a laugh I continued, thought the stray thought through my mind of him, years ago, begging as I slowed my strokes into his depths after having deep-dicked and jackhammered him for a while already during our very brief liaison. “It was then,” I started, catching Jim’s knowing glint, thinking exactly what I’d been thinking, except about him and me, I’m reasonably certain. “It was then that I KNEW I had to TASTE him. His scent was heavy, despite my nose being farther from him, and maybe that was part of the urgency that overcame me—“
“OverCAME indeed!” William snarked.
“AND . . . I bent down and tasted the most incredible thing I’d ever tasted up to that point. Forget pizza, forget ice cream, pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, ANYthing. And Steven’s LOUD moan when I licked his amazingly tasty, tangy cock and his sudden thrust upward, smearing himself all over my cheek was just too fucking HOT. SO . . . I just opened wide, got my mouth over the trajectory of his thrusting cock and managed to BARELY get that huge head in and swirled my tongue over the soaked-slick head. ‘MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!’ he moaned even louder.”
As I’d raised my voice to emphasize that long-ago cry of pleasure from my first man, I’d attracted more attention than just our table. Laughing, I leaned over the table and lowered my voice to continue.
“Don’t ask how I knew to do it – maybe it was instinct, reacting to his thrust when I licked over his piss slit – but my mouth was on that bucking cockhead, and I started to swirl my tongue more rhythmically, and all of a sudden, he moaned louder, I felt the bed jolt as his head thrashed and then . . . “ I stopped, leaving all of them pant in anticipation until my husband gently nudged me.
“Go on, Billy, they’ve been good boys.” I laughed and scanned the eager faces.
“And then,” I said so softly that they all leaned in more to hear me, “As I heard a choked cry of, ‘WHAT THE—‘ I felt him jerk and then push at my shoulders and chest, trying to push me off, even as I shouted in surprise and glee when I felt his first spunk blast hit the roof of my mouth like a weapon had fired.”
“’Billy!” he was shouting, pushing at me fruitlessly. And his body was jerking, and he was filling my mouth, and as fast as I swallowed, it was still running out of my mouth as I choked on what was flooding my throat and couldn’t keep up with it. I felt it running down my face and neck as he thrashed about wildly below me.”
“FUCK I still remember the taste of him. The REAL taste of him – of a MAN! But before I had a chance back then to savor it very long, he had me pushed off him, and was holding me at arm’s length, still panting, his cock still dripping. Yes – even restrained, on the verge of doom for being found out for what I did, THAT is what I was looking at!” I laughed, and so did the guys.
“He was totally freaked. He was apologizing, he was telling me he didn’t mean for it to have happened, telling me we’d done a very bad thing and could never, EVER do it again or tell anyone about what had happened. He was FREAKED . . . for real.”
“Awwww, man. Too bad it ended that way,” Evan mewled sympathetically. “He didn’t tell his little brother, did he?”
“UH, he didn’t tell ANYone,” I replied with a devilish grin.
“Whew!” Evan sighed, relieved.
But Dave knows me too well. “Uh, WHY didn’t he tell anyone, Billy? Was that your first hidden body?” he joked.
I’ll admit to giving him a bit of a devilish grin at that point. Then again, I knew the story. My husband’s quiet, knowing chuckle impelled me to continue.
“Somehow we ended up with me calming Steven down. And then he told me I needed to get back to his little brother’s room . . . and of course to act like NOTHING had happened. But first he wanted me to swear I’d never tell anyone. And he told me I needed to clean up and take a shower in his bathroom.”
“RUH ROH!” Donald mugged, and we all laughed, even the few who were still rubbing themselves under the table.
“NO, I’m now, at this experienced point in my life, embarrassed to say that I missed the opportunity for shower sex.” More laughs. And I could have given them more of a hint, but I didn’t. “So we both got up – his cock still pendulous and tumescent and all the more beautiful and appealing than it was before as it swung and flopped and his big emptied balls bounced and swung behind that fat dick. And ALL those muscles rippling and rolling as he got off the bed . . . ” I took a breath, and Danny fanned himself with his napkin. And I took the moment to enjoy that memory of the first time seeing a jock’s furred physique fully exposed and in motion.
After one of the guys prompted me with an “AND?!” I continued.
“So as he got up and I got up, we were standing there, both a little awkward. And yes, I was gawking at his amazing body. I remember noticing how BIG his feet were for the first time . . . “ I started to drift off in my memories again, but my husband nudged me, knowing the others were waiting anxiously . . . and actually this is the part of the story he loved the best. “Oh, right – back to the awkward after-moments.” I laughed, and they laughed with me. “The discomfited jock regained a bit of composure, and he put his hand on my shoulder – biceps pumping as he reached out that arm, corded, thick, hairy forearm and big hand coming toward me – and he told me he was sorry, but not sorry, but really we shouldn’t have and then I just moved in and threw my arms around him just above his waist and hugged him.
“I surprised both of us with that, but he sort of awkwardly put his BIT, STRONG, HAIRY arms around me as I buried my forehead into the cleft between his pecs. I couldn’t help but I N H A L E him . . . and then I licked his furry top-most ab.”
“OH MY GOD!” Dave groaned, his own impressive shoulder and biceps rolling as he stroked himself harder under the table.
“At that point? He WAS a God . . . to me. Or I’d found religion.”
“Yeah, the Church of the Perpetual Hardon!” William interrupted.
I laughed. “Well, I’ve certainly found far more comfort in MEN than in church or religion in the thirty-eight years since then! But back to that time and place.”
“And HARDbody,” Evan encouraged.
“VERY hard body for sure,” I confirmed. “I could feel every one of the muscles in the areas I was in contact with . . . including his hardening cock against my chest. And my hard little dick against his lower thigh, against his HARD, thick lower quad.”
Dave’s eyes were blazing, locked with mine but also a bit far off, facial features set in determination and interest, his under-table arm movements not guised at all. His dry cleaner was surely going to have something to talk about damn soon if he didn’t make another runner to the men’s room. The others were avidly awaiting my continuation, now three of them with telltale arm movements under the table. Only Danny had both hands in sight – one on the table, and one around William’s shoulder, his fingers caressing William’s ear and long neck. I loved that they were so in love, and I loved that Jim and I had caused them to meet and had fanned the flames of their attraction. But that’s a story for another time.
“And Steven was protesting in voice but then his body wasn’t as he – either consciously or unconsciously – flexed his quad . . . and I felt it in against my hard dick . . . and I pressed into his thigh . . . and he held me tighter and kissed the top of my head through my mop of unkempt blond hair . . . “ I gave it a moment, shifting in my chair and adjusting my again-contorted hardon in my pants. “And THEN,” I continued, seeing every one of the guys taking a quick breath in anticipation, “I came all over his leg.”
Dave’s eyes rolled back at that point, as his body went completely tense and then shook a little. “OHFUCK!” he hissed.
Donald leaned over against Dave and said, not soft enough for the rest of us not to hear, “Fucking HOT, buddy,” looking down over Dave’s shoulder to Dave’s lap. For Dave’s part he was panting and a very sexy sweat had broken out on his tanned forehead, a flush making that tan a bit luminescent.
“Go on, Bill. Finish,” Evan begged huskily.
“Right as I came, I cried out, loud and long, and Steven pulled me tighter into his chest . . . and shoved his corded thigh HARDER into my pumping cock. FUCK it was FUCKING AMAZING!” I exclaimed. “I remember vividly how it totally surprised me, up to that point thinking that the way you made your dick spurt was to pump it with your hand. I had no fucking clue what the hell I was doing. GOD how much I had to learn!”
“About NAUGHTY men!” Donald laughed.
“But he had a helluva start on BEING naughty, all by himself!” Jim laughed, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
I turned to my husband, with a dirty grin. “A lifetime of preparation and training . . . to be ready for THIS hunk here,” I summed up.
“Mmmmmmmm,” Several of the guys murmured in agreement, giving my husband a bit TOO appreciative looks, Dave particularly.
Dave observed, “There’s a certain similarity, isn’t there, between the way you’ve described that poor, unsuspecting teenager you raped way back then, and your husband, except for his blond hair, and Steven’s dark hair . . . Like mine?” he grinned.
“DOWN, BOYS!” I warned them. “He’s MINE, and I’m HIS!”
“YES!” Jim enthusiastically agreed, pulling me in, kissing me on the neck and biting a little. And against my ear he growled, “I can’t wait to get home and have you CLAIM me . . . again.”
My entire body convulsed, and I felt my precum surge into my already-soiled boxer briefs.
“Okay guys, we get it,” Donald called across the table.
“SOME OF US are going to ‘GET IT’,” Dave moaned, despite his second moment of relief at his own hand. “SOME of us are here, traveling, ALL ALONE, and we’re NOT going to get IT!”
Donald leaned over to Evan and whispered something, which I was thinking was probably much like what Jim had whispered to me. Until Evan nodded, quickly and enthusiastically. Then Donald leaned over toward Dave. “You don’t have to be. Alone tonight, that is.”
Dave’s head jerked up, almost knocking Donald’s, and his eyes raced over Evan and then Donald and then up to Donald’s face, eye-to-eye, with a grin. Dave’s a class-A hunk. But Donald was a very handsome and obviously fit man, with Evan a bona fide hottie. “Sold,” he said quietly.
Jim jostled my shoulder slightly as the deal closed and chuckled.
“WELL!” Danny interjected, pulling all of our gazes to him. “That definitely calls for us paying for your dinner!” he proclaimed toward me, quickly looking toward the others and getting rapid nods and grins. “And let’s get the damn check FAST,” he continued. “We’ve ALL got guys, uh, I meant, THINGS to do!”
None of us argued. We did, however, fairly quickly realize that none of us was leaving the table any time soon without either carrying our jackets in front of our bulging – and in some cases wet-spotted – crotches or making spectacles of ourselves. We all tried to divert to non-sexual subjects. Fortunately our teams – the O’s and the Nat’s – are all doing better than Dave’s Giants, so we quickly genned up a raucous round of trash talk. Like we know of Dave in an orgy – don’t ask! – he held his own against the six of us without any major effort.
When we did all finally file out a bit later, at least three different guys gave me some sign that they’d overheard my tale. Or maybe the winks and thumbs-up were in response to them observing Jim and me when we were running off to the men’s room through the restaurant with our pants obscenely tented. Jim chuckled at their winks and other gestures and leaned into me. “And you didn’t even give the whole story!” Which was true.
When I was in Steven’s bathroom showering and noticed a pile of his dirty gym clothes in the corner, I didn’t hesitate to bury my face in his still-moist and VERY wonderfully smelly jock strap.
Steven had come into the bathroom and caught me, but I just defiantly faced him. “This is mine now!” I told him. When he protested, I pointed out that it would be in his best interest to keep me happy and, therefore, quiet. And then I made him sit on the bathroom counter while I licked and sucked and stroked his cock and balls and even made him let me finger-fuck him while I inhaled his funk and brought him to another explosive climax and again tasted his deliciously thick, huge load. How the HELL I knew to do half that stuff, I have NO idea! AND I was aroused all over again and stood and jacked my own hard dick and rubbed my little balls while I rubbed my face all over his rock-hard abs and inhaled his pube-scent until I blew my nutload all over his bathroom cabinet.
I also didn’t tell them that, the next day when we were having Duane’s pool party, I admired Steven’s amazing musculature under slick wet skin and wet fur until I was beside myself wanting to be with him again. But I also started to realize why Duane idolized Steven, too – he was an amazing guy with all of our friends there, making sure everyone was having a good time and even the kids who were shy were engaged and felt involved. He was very . . . big-brotherly.
So it was no surprise when, at one point when he was throwing me in the water when we were all playing, ganging up on Steven, that I managed to grab his crotch and squeeze. I caught his eyes, and he looked like he was surprised and guilty all at the same time. That reinforced my feeling of control, and I caught him a bit later and told him I expected more, later that night.
And that night I licked that stud from head to toe, tasting and feeling every bit of him with my tongue, cumming once without even touching myself, cumming again before I was done with him . . . and getting him off three times!
The dinner audience also didn’t hear how, I had fucked Steven for the first time when he was home from university for spring break. By then there was no coercion required – Steven had given up all protest and was as into our sexploits as I was.
And what can I say about fucking his tight jock ass? AMAZING . . . It felt like an amazing, burning, tight glove around my throbbing hardon as I pumped into him and listened to him moan and felt his muscles contract and spasm with every thrust. That was the first time I learned how incredible it was to feel my balls aching as they slapped my bottom’s rock-hard butt and feeling them tickled by the fur on them. OH YEAH!
Oh, and I omitted where I tried bottoming for the first time when Steven was home for the summer. GodDAMN was THAT painful! He was big, but nothing like my size now by the way, and I can tell you I felt that for at least a week afterward, even though he ate me, fingered me and worked me up to begging for his big fuckclub for about an hour beforehand. Forget these romantic stories about first-time fucks – unless you’re in love with pain. IT HURTS!
At the time all I could do was to force my mind to bifurcate and put the pain in one part of my brain but enjoyed the scene aside from that – a man having his way with me, his even-more-amazing-by-then body’s muscles rippling and rolling as he slowly pumped me. And the O-face when he blasted his nuts in my ravaged ass was more amazing than any I’d see when I got him off before. Unfortunately, the BURN from his cum in my ravaged chute made me literally yowl as he flooded me with his jizz-blasts.
Steven concluded, after a second attempt fucking me, that I was a born top . . . and I agreed with him, as much as I LOVED fucking his jockbutt. Fortunately he LOVED having his butt deep-dicked, so we were fine. By then we’d become more friends-with-benefits than just fuck buddies. He was a great guy, and I was becoming a young man. Steven, in addition to my older, recently-acquired step-brothers, shaped my transition to manhood.
Most importantly, I didn’t add to my account in the restaurant the other night how Steven and I fucked around every time he was home from college and grad school until I left for the Academy. We only managed to hook up about once every couple of years after that for a while, then even less than that until we basically hadn’t seen each other for what seemed like forever until I was at the Pentagon the second time, and then we attempted a more regular thing. That wasn’t nearly as interesting for either of us after the first couple of months of regular fucking and hanging around together. Then, after that, we became better friends than we had been, and remain so to this day.
As always, thanks for reading and, hopefully, enjoying. Love your feedback, either via comments or emails. Thanks!