Best Man

by Caliban

10 May 2020 17715 readers Score 8.9 (607 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


I hate christenings, weddings, and funerals. In fact, any visit to a church is right at the bottom of my list of favourite things to do. When my elder sister, consequently, was about to marry, I was about as excited as visiting a dentist for root canal treatment. I was not much of a family guy and only saw my parents twice a year. Christmas and a mid-year break, both consisting of three days maximum, did the trick for me. The annoyance and added expense of an October visit for the wedding, therefore, did not make me very happy camper.

For some inexplicable reason it has become traditional for family and friends to gather on the evening prior to a wedding. For me, it already was enough of a strain having to spend a Saturday in the company of people whose company I could really do without. Fortunately, I managed to extricate myself from this nauseating ritual, by lying to my parents about my arrival time on the Friday evening. After hiring a vehicle at the airport, I was booked into the hotel that my parents had prearranged by seven-thirty, three hours earlier than the time I had given them.

After settling in to the room, I relaxed on the bed for half an hour, before finally having a shower. After that, I made my way to the restaurant and had an enjoyable meal. By nine-thirty I was in the bar quietly sipping on a beer. After a hectic week at work I was finally beginning to unwind and relax. The table where I was seated was in the corner of the room and the minimal lighting suited my mood.

Just before eleven, a really dishy man entered the pub and took a seat at the bar counter. Most of the lighting in the room was concentrated around the counter, and so I got a really good look at him. The guy was stocky with short dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. I had always favoured men with meaty butts and he filled his jeans magnificently. It was also apparent that he had solid, thick thighs. He had a wonderfully masculine bearing and simply oozed sex appeal. Regrettably, he stayed a very short time and after slugging back two drinks, left the bar.

The following morning I joined my folks for breakfast but did not stay very long. There was simply far too much activity in their house for my liking. After returning to the hotel I spent a few hours at the pool. As the church service was only at three that afternoon, I arrived at the church at a quarter to three and was shortly seated in the front row, which was reserved for family members.

At five to three there was a hush in the room as the bridegroom entered with his best man. Imagine my surprise at discovering that the hunky guy from the previous evening, named Gareth, was my soon to be brother-in-law’s best man. I remember very little of the service because my eyes were totally focussed on Gareth. It’s a funny thing, but bulky guys always look awkward in a suit. To me, however, this was not a problem and I happily ogled him throughout the ritual.

After the tedious photo session we all made our way to the wedding reception. Gareth, naturally, sat at the main table, but fortunately I was seated at a table close by and so was able to continue scrutinising him. Once the party got in to full swing, I noticed that he was not at all keen to get onto the dancefloor. A short while later, my heart beat faster when Gareth made his way to my table and sat down next to me.

“Looks like we have something in common,” he said, as he gestured toward the dancefloor with his eyes.

We momentarily established that we both had no rhythm and avoided dancefloors at all costs. Then we also discovered a few more things we had in common. We lived in the same city and were booked on the same plane home, the following afternoon.

“In which part of the city do you live, Danny? He asked.

My apartment was in a renowned gay area of the city and when I mentioned the suburb, Gareth frowned.

“That’s a… gay area, isn’t it?” he asked, somewhat befuddled.

I simply shrugged.

“Are you gay?” he questioned, apprehensively.

“Yes… but my folks don’t yet know, so please don’t alert the media,” I joked.

“Mum’s the word,” he answered, with a bemused look on his face.

“Have you got a boyfriend?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Well, that’s another thing we have in common,” he answered.

When he observed the perplexed look on my face he uttered a laugh, and then said, “I meant that I don’t have a girlfriend and therefore I’m also not involved,” he concluded, as we both had a good laugh.

We hit it off very well and chatted on and off as the evening wore on. Later, at around ten o’clock when had both had enough of the wedding, Gareth asked if I wanted to join him for a drink at the hotel that we were booked into. After the customary goodbyes, we went on our way.

As we sat at the same table I had occupied the previous night, I was intrigued by our earlier interactions and decided to ask Gareth about his personal life.

“Why aren’t you seeing anyone at the moment?” I asked.

Frowning and with a very serious look on his face, he observed me intently. Then after a lengthy pause he said, “What I’m about to tell you is very private and personal. Please don’t repeat any of it to anyone,” he earnestly concluded.

“Mum’s the word,” I answered.

“I’ve developed a performance problem. Simply put, when the occasion arises, I cannot rise to the occasion,” he confessed. I didn’t utter a sound and simply let him continue. “My knob works perfectly when I need to pleasure myself, but when I’m with a woman, the damn thing simply won’t stay hard,” he finished off, in an exasperated tone.

Uncomfortably, I asked, “Have you seen a doctor about this?”

“Sure, but he says that there is nothing physically wrong and that I need to see a shrink,” he agitatedly stated.

“Well, have you done that yet?” I questioned.

“No, I don’t trust shrinks,” he declared, emphatically.

We had reached a point in the conversation that I was reticent to go beyond. Gareth’s erectile problems were obviously very vexing to him and I didn’t want to seem like a nosy busybody. I was, however, fascinated by his dilemma.

‘If the problem isn’t physical, what the hell is causing his short-circuit,’ I pondered.

After a lengthy pause, I delicately asked, “What do you fantasise about… when you’re masturbating?”

I was immediately sorry about my question, because the blood seemed to drain from his face and his body language became anxious. “I’m sorry I asked, please forgive me,” I said, as I hastily tried to backtrack. Fortunately, we both needed another drink and I swiftly arose to fetch our drinks from the bar counter.

When I returned Gareth seemed calmer. Gradually, as he relaxed, Gareth revealed his masturbation fantasy to me. It consisted of him and another guy fucking a woman. Gareth stressed that there was no contact between him and the other guy in his fantasy, but that the thought of watching the other guy fucking the woman is what excited him the most. I wanted to explore this conversation a lot further because I got the strong impression that Gareth was holding back, but the barman put an end to our tête-à-tête when he announced that it was closing time. Both of us were tired and decided to head off to our respective rooms.

Gareth and I had breakfast together the following day, and also sat next to one another on the plane later. Naturally, with ears all around us our conversation was fairly restrained on the aircraft. When we arrived after the two hour fight Gareth offered to give me a ride home. Once we got to my place he popped in for a quick coffee. He had a dinner engagement that evening and wanted to get back to his place beforehand, to unpack and settle in after the weekend.

As he was about to leave, he said, “I really hope we stay in touch, Danny, because I enjoyed your company very much. Maybe we can have dinner together sometime?”

“Well, if you aren’t busy on Friday night, why don’t you come to me for dinner, you know where I stay.” I nonchalantly countered.

“Deal, I’ll definitely be here,” he answered with a warm smile.

I thought about Gareth all week. He was as sexy as hell and very appealing to me. We had also interacted effortlessly on the wedding weekend, but I kept reminding myself that although he was experiencing a glitch in his life, Gareth was essentially straight and there could be no more than a friendship between us. Most of all, I really enjoyed his company and cogitated upon the fact that I would simply have to cope as my hormones doing somersaults, whenever I was around him.

That Friday evening when Gareth arrived at my place, I was somewhat taken aback when I got an affectionate man hug. Then, while we were having dinner, my life became the focus of our conversation. Gareth wanted to know all the ins and outs of gay life. Of course, he also made it clear that this was merely a quest to learn something new and broaden his mind. Gareth continually used the term ‘you guys’ when referring to gay men, which I supposed was to entrench his heterosexuality.

At around eight-thirty, I decided to see just how eager Gareth really was in his quest to learn something new.

“Would you like to visit the gay bar down the road?” I asked in a casual way, with just the smallest hint of a dare. I could see a slightly anxious look on his face and decided to up the ante.

“Then you can check out the scene first-hand, Gareth.” After a pause I continued, “I’ll take you there, stay by your side throughout the visit, and then escort you back here afterward. I promise nobody will molest or grope you,” I concluded, with a taunting laugh.

“Sure… cool, let’s do it,” Gareth answered, almost defiantly.

Once in the bar, Gareth’s anxiousness abated fairly quickly. His eyes had darted around manically after we first arrived, as if some weird creature was about to jump on him. Once the ‘normalcy’ of the place dawned on him, however, it was as if a valve had been opened and a great pressure had been released. I was happy that the bar wasn’t hectically busy, but then it was very early by gay standards.

Gareth then surprised me by asking, “So if you were here on your own, what kind of guy would you go for?”

It was an easy question to answer because as we had entered the pub, there was a really hot bearish guy across from us. Ironically, he was a carbon copy of Gareth. I had seen him a few times before at the pub before but never had the pleasure of his ‘company’ in the upstairs, action section. Without being obvious, I told Gareth to check out the stud across from us. I was amazed by Gareth’s expression upon observing the guy, because there was almost a look of concurrence in his eyes.

“So, what would happen next?” Gareth then asked, with an ever-growing look of fascination on his face.

“Well, if hunky over there appeared to be interested, we would go upstairs to the action section and make out.” I stated, matter-of-factly.

“The action section…?” Gareth asked, totally bewildered.

“Sure… upstairs you can suck, get sucked, fuck, or get fucked,” I concluded, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I then explained the layout and function of the action area in full. Gareth was totally gobsmacked but incredibly intrigued.

“Why don’t you go take a look,” I suggested, before concluding, “Things only start pumping up there in an hour from now, so I doubt if you’ll even see anyone.”

After a short deliberation, Gareth gingerly made his way up the stairs. I had a good giggle to myself as hunky across from us followed almost immediately. After five minutes, I was surprised when Gareth had not returned and decided to investigate.

In the centre of the upstairs section there was a cube consisting of four cubicles. Naturally, each cubicle had a glory hole on two sides. The cubicle’s, although small, could easily accommodate three to four guys and often did. Beyond this cube there was also a raised platform with glory holes facing inward and divided by several partitions. Throughout the upstairs section there were bar tables and stools were intermittently scattered around, for cruising.

Upon my arrival upstairs the action section appeared to be uninhabited, apart from the two closed doors of the cube. When I checked out the glory hole in the first of the two adjoining stalls, ‘Hunky,’ from downstairs, was on his knees giving robust head. His jeans were around his ankles and his shirt completely open. Hunky also appeared to have a decent sized knob that he was enthusiastically tugging as his face got solidly fucked.

With my heart pounding I made my way to the adjoining booth. Several emotions collided in my mind as I peered through the hole. Lust, envy, anger, rejection, and excitement, flooded my entire being as I observed Gareth’s magnificent ample backside humping the glory hole like a jackhammer. With his jeans around his knees and his shirt pulled up in the front, my eyes spun at the sight of his twitching hairy arse. I watched mesmerised, wishing that my mouth was receiving the pleasure of his manhood.

When Gareth’s body began to shudder I knew that Hunky was ‘stealing’ my dessert and wanted to punch my fucking fist through that partition. As I watched transfixed, Gareth withdrew his dick from the glory hole and turned his body. The ‘fake’ seemed to have no erectile problems as he milked the excess cream from his thick foreskin. After his thumb had massaged all the spunk from his hood his hand dismissively flicked it to the floor. After this my annoyance I quickly composed myself and hastily returned to the bar downstairs.

A minute later, Gareth appeared and told me sagely how interesting his visit had been. I decided there and then, that I would be calling the shots thenceforth. Whether he liked it or not, the Sauna would be our next stop.

Very shortly afterward, Hunky again sat across from us looking like the fucking cat that got the cream. Strangely, however, when I studied his expression prudently as he looked at me, it also conveyed a ‘thank you’ salutation.

‘Fuck, he thinks Gareth and I are involved,’ I thought.

With a smile I then asked Gareth, “Well, are you ready to broaden your mind even further about queer life?”

Staring at me with a puzzled look, I did not allow him to answer before I told him that I thought we should visit the Sauna. This time Gareth looked a lot more anxious than he had been about my gay bar suggestion.

“Come on Gareth, give it a go,” I suggested. Sticking in the knife, I continued, “As I told you when we came here, you’ll be perfectly safe and if you really don’t like the place, we can leave immediately.”

Gareth thought carefully for a few moments and then sheepishly agreed to give it a try. Before we were about to leave he needed to use the toilet. As I made my way to the door to wait for him at the exit, I passed by Hunky.

“You’re a hot couple,” Hunky said to me as we made eye contact.

“Actually, we’re just friends and I mistakenly thought I was showing a straight buddy the gay sites tonight,” I answered with a wry smile, before Hunky let out a laugh.

After exchanging names I told Neil, Hunky’s name, that we were off to the sauna.

“Mind if I join you?” Neil asked.

“Not at all,” I replied, “But follow a little later. Let’s not spoil the surprise,” I said in a collusive fashion.

By the time Gareth exited the toilet I was waiting for him at the door. I was rather pleased about the ‘Neil’ development. I had always thought he was hot and with him and Gareth at the sauna, the possibilities were endless.

As we were undressing at the sauna I had a good look at Gareth’s body. It was just perfect and his cock suited his frame wonderfully. It was meaty and had a thick foreskin. After a brief look around the interior of the general entrance area, we made our way to the steam room. This was my favourite destressing zone after a busy week at work. Inside the steam room as one entered, there was built in seating to the left and to the right. Gareth moved toward the left side and sat down in the corner, next to the wall. As I sat next to him we began to observe two guys on the opposite side. They were really getting stuck into one another, groping, kissing, and fondling. Stealing a glance at Gareth’s dick, I observed that although it wasn’t erect it was well on its way to a state of full arousal.

After a short time, the door of the steam room opened and Neil entered. As I peeked at Gareth, there was a bewildered look on his face. Next, Neil casually sauntered over in our direction and stood with his back to the wall in front of Gareth. Neil now began to toy with his knob, as he alternated his stares between Gareth and me. I decided that it was time for the real action to begin and after lifting off my seat, knelt before Neil.

As I commenced my oral attention to Neil’s crotch, occasional glances at Gareth’s face left me in no doubt that he was totally captivated. Not long after, Gareth began to tug on his erect dick. With Neil’s hands firmly on my head, we put on a great show for Gareth as I really began to suck Neil’s uncut knob. After a minute or two, Neil lifted my body and commenced kissing me, as we groped at one another’s cocks. Moving things along, Neil then moved to the side and encouraged me to lean forward against the wall. I was delighted with this development and amazed by Neil’s intuition.

Taking up station behind me, Neil started rubbing his cock in my arse crack. As he did so, Gareth’s breathing became heavy and excited. Before long, Neil sought entry into my backside. As he did so, Gareth got to his feet and intensely focussed on Neil’s insertion.

Almost instantly, Gareth began verbally hyperventilating, “Yeah, fuck him, fuck yeah… stick your fucking knob in that arse. Jesus, this is so fucking hot. Christ, fuck him hard, buddy.”

‘The fish is in the net,’ I then thought to myself.

After a very short while I heard Neil telling Gareth to sit down. After he did so Neil turned my body to face Gareth. When our eyes locked, Gareth’s hands embraced my head and pulled my face downward. Finally, as my lips encased Gareth’s cock, my dream had come true. I gave him a blow job of note as my head bobbed up and down on his fat knob and for the next couple of minutes our blissful train ambled on lustfully. Following on that, I felt my torso being lifted as my body was once again turned with my arms anchoring me against the wall.

I then heard Neil advising Gareth, “You should fuck this pussy, buddy, it’s really tight.”

After Neil withdrew his knob from me, Gareth then got up in a flash and powered his thick knob into my arse. Looking behind me I saw Neil’s hands caressing the sides of Gareth’s torso.

‘Jesus,’ I thought, ‘he is going to fuck Gareth.’

Moments later, Gareth began to protest as Neil’s dick lodged into his manhole.

“Just relax, buddy, you’re about to experience the ultimate joy of man-love,” I heard Neil utter.

“I’m really not sure about this,” Gareth apprehensively whimpered.

“Fucking and being fucked, is the ultimate pleasure,” Neil strongly counselled.

“Argh, argh,” Gareth groaned, as his arse got conquered.

Amazingly, Gareth remained hard inside me as his manhole got plundered and after a few moments, Neil asked, “Must I pull out of you?”

“No, fuck no,” Gareth began to intone.

With Neil supplying the momentum we rocked steadily for the next several minutes. When Gareth grunted that he was about to cum, Neil told him to let rip, because he was also nearing climax. All three of us evacuated our balls almost simultaneously as I tugged furiously on my dick. Afterward, we formed a trio of lust as we commenced kissing one another.

Taking the initiative I then invited both guys back to my apartment, which they willingly agreed to. We spent the rest of Friday evening, Saturday, and most of Sunday, fucking our arses off. When both guys left late on Sunday we had formed a bond that happily continued well into the future.

Above all, Gareth’s erectile problems had miraculously been cured.

by Caliban

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