When he opened his eyes, Archie was looking up at him in awe. His hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed. He looked absolutely ravishing. If Graham wasn't so spent, the look on his face alone would be exciting enough to make him blow all over again.
As the adrenaline dissipated and his cock slowly began to soften between his legs, Graham began to laugh. It was a happy sound, relaxed and free. He wasn't sure why it started. Part of it was probably the chemical reset happening in his brain; part of it the sheer absurdity of what had just happened. It was a laugh of joy and disbelief.
Archie smiled up at him with a puzzled face.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” Graham exhaled. He chuckled once more. “That was just…crazy.”
“Yeah?” Archie smiled.
“Yeah,” Graham nodded, head falling against the sofa.
“That was really hot.”
Graham looked down at Archie who was still admiring the body splayed out before him. “You thought so?”
Archie looked up at him. “Oh, hell yeah. I've been wanting to do that to you for ages.”
“Oh, ages huh?” Graham teased.
“Well,” Archie’s head bobbed side to side. “A couple weeks at least.”
Graham just stared at him, smiling, head shaking in wonder and disbelief.
Archie leaned forward and kissed the tip of his penis, now hanging plumply over his balls. His eyes trailed up his groin, his stomach, until his face was level with Graham's. He stared intensely into Graham's eyes, a wicked smile still gracing his face. “I'll get you a towel.”
He stood up, pressing off of Graham's bare thighs, and disappeared into the bathroom. Returning, Graham noticed the bulge still straining against his jeans. His shirt was still half tucked-in, billowing out of one side while snugly tucked beneath the waistband on the other. Graham liked this messy, disheveled look.
Archie handed him the towel, and he began to wipe himself clean.
“I made a mess,” Graham observed lightly.
“You came a lot,” Archie chuckled.
“Sorry,” Graham said reflexively.
“Oh, don't be. The more the merrier.”
“Well in that case, you're welcome.”
Graham threw the towel aside and sat forward on the couch.
He sighed. His hands found Archie's hips, where he untucked the remaining bits of Archie's shirt. He moved at a deliberate, unhurried pace. He slid his hands under the rough lace fabric, feeling Archie's soft skin against his hands, pulling him towards the couch until his bulge was level with Graham's face, pressing towards him as if extending an invitation. Graham looked at it, then looked up at Archie, who stared down at him with a cautious excitement.
“Do you want me to…return the favor? Graham asked, his voice hoarse.
Archie smiled kindly. “You don't have to.”
Graham's brow furrowed, a flash of disappointment crossed his face.
“I just mean…yes, I'd love that. Like, a lot. But…I don't want you to feel like you have to. I'm more than happy with what just happened.”
Graham smiled, touched by Archie's characteristic thoughtfulness. Archie was partially correct, after all. Graham felt at least a little obligated to reciprocate. After years of marriage, he wasn't exactly a selfish lover, and he didn't intend to change that now. But, at the same time, there was something definite about crossing this next milestone. It was one thing to receive, to sit back and let Archie do what he’d just done; it was another thing altogether to do it to Archie.
Or was it? Was it really that different? Was that just his brain's way of drawing arbitrary lines in the sand, fighting to keep him on a certain side of ‘normal’ or ‘respectable’ in the outdated logic that had guided him for so long? Was that just his heart's way of protecting himself if he woke up tomorrow and all this had amounted to nothing?
He tried to shake these thoughts away.
Oh well, he thought to himself. In for a penny.
“I want to,” he heard himself say.
“You do?” Archie asked, smiling.
Graham thought he saw the bulge expand, just a little, against his jeans.
He nodded, slowly, his eyes holding Archie's in a heated stare. He pulled Archie another inch closer and slid his hand to the front of Archie's jeans. His hand grazed over the hard ridge, and he heard Archie exhale shakily.
Archie reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly trailing down his torso, one by one, while Graham watched with unbroken focus. His chest burned with anticipation, coveting another glimpse of Archie's bare chest and toned abs. Something about this progression, watching Archie move from a state of dress to undress, stirred his cock into motion, and he felt it begin to swell. With a cocky confidence, Archie threw open his shirt, letting it slide off his shoulders where he caught it behind his back. He flung it onto the couch.
Graham began to salivate.
He reached out, placing his hands on Archie's bare waist, touching the place that had so intrigued him Friday at the bar. Seeing him up this close, with full permission to admire, to stare, to touch, felt like an unfathomable privilege, one Graham vowed not to squander.
“Jesus, Archie,” he whispered.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Archie's stomach, just below his belly button.
Cautiously, he reached up and unhooked Archie’s belt, pulling it quickly through the belt loops. It released with a satisfying crack. He tossed it to the side and reached for Archie's button. He could feel Archie's eyes watching his every move, though it possessed no air of scrutiny. In fact, Archie's gaze empowered him, motivated him, encouraged him to keep going.
Button undone, Graham slowly lowered the zipper of his jeans, folding down the corner of his fly. To his shock and delight, rather than the fabric of some undergarment, a triangle of pale skin and dark hair greeted him. He looked up at Archie, a wicked smirk on his face.
“So much for our underwear theory,” he purred.
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Archie quipped.
Graham traced his fingers down Archie's stomach, trailing from his belly button, down the smooth skin, before combing through his coarse pubic hair. It was jet black, like the hair on his head, and surprisingly full without being unruly. He found himself inexplicably enamored with it, this patch of hair standing out against his flawless abdomen.
His heart raced as he slowly pulled down Archie's jeans, peeling away the snug fabric. Archie’s cock sprung free, standing proudly perpendicular to the floor. Graham studied it closely. It was longer than his own, maybe seven inches, but a bit thinner. It was less veiny than Graham's, despite its throbbing appearance, twitching ever so slightly with Archie’s pulse. Its head was like bright pink velvet, shining where the tiniest bit of moisture leaked out.
Graham was enamored with it, enticed by its similarities to Graham's own, fascinated by its differences.
He wrapped a determined hand around it, giving it a long, smooth stroke. Archie shivered at the touch, a sign of approval.
He began to stroke in a sure, steady rhythm, watching intently as the pink head disappeared into his closed fist only to reemerge seconds later, like some erotic game of peekaboo. He loved the feeling of it in his hand, warm and smooth, like suede on steel; he loved how his hand closed easily around it, the grip different from his own cock; he loved how his strokes went just a bit further than when he pleasured himself, the extra length taking his breath away with each pump of his fist. His free hand found Archie's bare hip, sliding beneath the clinging denim to grip the soft skin.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Graham felt himself lean forward, his face inching closer to Archie's cock until, succumbing to his purest impulse, he extended his tongue and licked the underside of the hard shaft. It tasted differently than he expected, mostly in the fact that it had no discernible taste. He licked again, then a third time, lapping up over Archie's slit, getting a hint of saltiness. Archie moaned softly, a sound that Graham coveted, craved more of. Carefully, he leaned forward and took Archie in his mouth.
At first he was surprised by its fullness, by how much space it occupied despite its slender shape. He adjusted his tongue accordingly, but felt his gag reflex start to kick in. He pulled away, a soft noise escaping throat. Tears pricked his eyes, and he heard Archie chuckle quietly.
He looked up.
“You don't have to do that, you know,” Archie said playfully.
“Are you kidding?” Graham replied, stroking Archie steadily. “Now my interest is piqued, I'm just getting started.”
He leaned forward again, dropping his jaw and exhaling to relax his shoulders and neck. He felt his throat open up, and this time Archie slid into him more easily. He was able to take half of Archie's length before retreating, gently pushing forward again as he grew accustomed to the sensation.
He couldn't help but wonder what his own cock must require, given its thickness, and he had a newfound admiration for Archie's ease and gusto from before.
He felt a hand enter his hair, gently bracing his head, not applying any pressure. He took this as encouragement and continued to slide Archie's cock in and out of his mouth until, finally, his lips met his fingers where he gripped the base of Archie's shaft. He considered this a personal accomplishment and remained there to give his body time to adjust. He moaned, the vibrations passing from his throat into Archie's cock like electricity passing between neurons.
Archie breathed out heavily, his hands bracing against Graham's shoulders. He leaned into his tiptoes and began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, sliding in and out of Graham's throat.
Graham held Archie's hips and focused on his breath as Archie began to thrust into his mouth. It was nerve-wracking and exhilarating being on the receiving end for a change. His brain wanted to sound an alarm, to register this submission, this loss of control as some kind of threat, but he ignored the noise. As intimidating as it was to have someone else inside him, he trusted Archie intensely. He inhaled, exhaled, relaxed his neck, and relished the feeling of Archie's beautiful, throbbing cock entering him.
Eventually Archie picked up the pace and Graham could hold on longer. He pulled away, gasping for air, a long trail of saliva stringing between his mouth and the tip of Archie's dick.
“Sorry,” Archie said quickly.
“Don't be,” Graham growled.
He pushed Archie's hips, causing him to step backwards and fall onto the bed. Archie laughed at the surprise but went quiet as Graham crawled onto his knees between Archie's legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched intently, eyes ablaze, as Graham once again descended onto his cock.
Graham moved greedily, working Archie's cock in a flurry of mouth and tongue and fist and hand. A part of him wanted to pause, to peel Archie's jeans all the way off, to admire his naked body sprawled out on the bed, but that would require taking a break from Archie's cock and that was simply out of the question. He hadn't even paused to finish removing his own clothes – his dress shirt still hung open, halfway off his left shoulder; his pants and briefs still clung to his ankles. His bare knees dug into the rough hotel hotel carpet; his cock hung heavily between his thighs, rapidly returning to full mast; his bare ass arched into the room’s cool air.
Archie's perfect cock protruded from his open fly where Graham devoured it, a merciless predator going in for the kill. His head fell back against the mattress as his breathing became noisy and erratic. He grunted encouragement to Graham in the form of various curses and unintelligible sounds, his back arching off the bed to press even deeper into Graham's motions.
“Fuck, I'm getting close,” he called out.
“Yeah?” Graham asked, pulling back. “You gonna come?”
Graham kept working, his hand pumping like a piston.
“Fuck, yeah” Archie growled. “You're gonna make me come. You're gonna –”
He grunted, and Graham felt him thrust into his fist. Archie let out a series of high, breathy moans as cum shot out of him, falling in long, thick streaks across his stomach, like paint splattered on canvas, a work of modern art.
Graham continued to stroke slowly as Archie writhed, until a shiver tore through him and he had to push Graham’s hand away.
“Sorry,” he gasped, “it gets sensitive.”
Graham chuckled and released him.
“Sorry,” he echoed, climbing onto the bed and falling onto his back next to Archie. Archie's forearm draped across his face as his chest rose and fell, his breathing slowly returning to normal.
They were quite the sight – Graham's pants bunched around his ankles, Archie's jeans stuck around his thighs, their cocks, soft now, resting against their groins. Graham couldn't help but laugh at the messiness of it all, the sloppiness of it, so far from the routine love making of his later marriage years.
Once again, Graham felt like a teenager. An eager, infatuated, insatiable teenager. Not like his own teenage year, of course, but closer to how he imagined the secret lives of many of his peers. There was something strangely poetic about it, a kind of karmic recompense for the many years he'd wasted under the weight of moral fortitude and responsibility. He'd really never allowed himself to cut loose, to indulge, to surrender to the feelings of want and desire that bubbled up in him. And so, surrendering now felt long overdue.
It felt divine.
He turned to face Archie, whose arm still draped gracefully across his eyes. His eyeline was level with Archie's armpit, with the tufts of dark hair that few there. He could faintly smell Archie's deodorant, a spicy, subtle aroma that blended with the smell of sweat and sex.
Graham studied it, oddly fascinated by the curve of his muscles where his arms and shoulders met, by the taut skin stretched across his ribcage, by the dark hair contrasting against his smooth skin.
Graham's eyes traveled down his body, studying every line and angle of his physique. From this view, he could really see the broad curves of Archie's pecs, the shallow ridges of his abs, the pale skin of his hip bones next to the patch of dark pubes. Lying there, inches apart, Graham was suddenly aware of their similar height and stature.
They occupied nearly equal space on the bed, with Archie just an inch or two shorter, whereas Julie had been petite, a good six inches shorter than him, with a slender, delicate frame. Her skin was soft and pale and tender. He'd always admired her body, which was so incredibly different from his own – where he was powerful, she was gentle; where he was hairy, she was smooth. For a decade, that physical contrast had been an integral part of his sexuality, his body drawn to these differences. But now, lying shoulder to shoulder with Archie, a different attraction took over.
He liked it, lying this close to someone who rivaled him in stature and strength, as if sizing up an opponent before a prize fight. He found himself inexplicably drawn to the similarities they shared, the way Archie's body was inherently familiar. He recognized their differences in the subtlest details – the shade of his skin, the texture of his hair, the length of his cock. It was like sneaking glimpses of men at the gym, this innate curiosity to contrast and compare, only now he was free to explore openly, to study and stare without secrecy or shame.
It made his head swim and his cock twitch.
He turned back to find Archie looking up at him, a curious expression on his brow.
“You okay?” Archie asked, his voice gentle but serious.
“Yeah,” Graham reassured him. “Just admiring the view.”
Archie smiled. He propped himself up on one elbow, their eyes even.
“Good. It's okay if you feel a little weird, though. I know when it's your first time the post-nut clarity can be a bit…surprising.”
Graham pondered this for a second.
“Honestly, the only thing surprising me is how much I enjoyed it. How weird it didn't feel.”
“Yeah?” Archie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Graham chuckled. “I guess maybe I thought it would feel different – that I would feel different– but…it didn't. It just felt good.”
“Well that's good. That is kind of the point.” Archie flashed a sarcastic smile.
“I can't argue with you there,” Graham laughed. “Did you, uh…enjoy it? I'm sure you're probably used people who know what they're doing but –”
He shut up when Archie’s lips found his own. He stayed quiet when Archie pulled away.
“I enjoyed that so much.” His voice was warm and earnest. “It was perfect.”
“Okay,” Graham smiled, relieved. “Good.”
His hand reached out and found Archie's hip, his thumb tracing circles on the pale skin there. “For the record,” he began, his voice gravelly. “I am open to doing more. I just may need to get…comfortable with it all.”
“Of course. And, you know,” he leaned in and caught Graham's eye. “For the record, I don't need any certain thing to happen in the bedroom to be happy. You can cover a lot of ground with a mouth and two hands.”
Graham laughed. “Well, we've certainly made a compelling argument for that idea.”
“I'd say so,” Archie placed his hand on Graham's chest, and massaged his pec.
“Well then, for the record,” Graham said playfully. “I can't wait to try it again.”
“Yeah?” Archie’s hand traveled down Graham's chest and stomach. His fingers traced into Graham's pubic hair and landed on his cock, which had already begun to swell against his hip. “Well, who says we have to wait?”
He leaned forward and kissed Graham, his hand wrapping around Graham's shaft and giving it a gentle squeeze. Graham smiled and sighed into his mouth as they fell back against the mattress.
