[Once again, we are reliant on Leo's memory for the following account. Not only did he and Brad have a highly satisfactory 'honeymoon' - they also made two new friends along the way.]

If it's true that God made the world in just seven days, then he's one incredibly efficient dude.

It took more than a month for me to sort out all my business affairs so I could officially retire. Of course, I remained a member of the board and I retained my majority share holding, but I was no longer a slave to commercial duty.

Brad and I took our solemn vows before a city official with two city clerks as witnesses. His attempts to persuade his mother to attend were fruitless. In fact, he rarely even got to speak with her. She hung up so many times that he eventually gave up trying.

Neither of us wanted the bother of airline schedules or hotel bookings. I hired a four-wheel drive vehicle large enough to stow all our luggage. It was also large enough to serve as a double bed should we decide to stop somewhere remote for a night.

And then we hit the road for a meandering honeymoon up and down the west coast. We made no advance plans. We stayed in cheap motels, log cabins and the occasional luxury hotel in the bigger towns and cities.

The advantage of luxury hotels is that you can get all your accumulated washing and ironing done for you overnight. A truly comfortable bed and a more varied cuisine are bonuses too.

We swam almost every day, whether in lakes, swimming pools or the sea. And we hiked vast distances with just bread, cheese and some water to sustain us. After just two weeks, I felt fitter, healthier and happier than I'd been in twenty years.

I developed a glorious tan without ever consciously sunbathing. Even Brad's skin acquired some colour despite the constant application of sun-block. His auburn hair became streaked with golden highlights. And, to my secret delight, my own hair began to return to the blondness of my youth. It made me feel young again.

The nights were the best. It seemed we would never grow weary of sex. We fucked in the van, in seedy motel rooms, on deserted beaches and beside forest trails. Most evenings found us trying to shower away the sand, soil and leaves that had somehow adhered to even the most intimate parts of our bodies.

One night - at the start of our third week on the road - we were in a fairly large town and enjoying the decadence of a hotel suite.

That's when Brad introduced me to something I'd never experienced before. As we showered before bed, he said he wanted to try something new. I smiled and agreed readily, not having a clue what he had in mind.

He positioned me face down on the bed and raised my hips with his hands. I thought he was going to penetrate me.

I'd allowed myself to be fucked a few times in the distant past, but it didn't really float my boat. I enjoyed it in an uncomfortable way - it's exciting when you know a guy is going to fill you with cum - but it is definitely not my preferred way to go.

But this was the guy I loved, so I was willing to let him have his way.

But he didn't attempt to penetrate me. At least, not with his dick. No. He parted the cheeks of my ass and began an assault with his tongue. It was deliciously shocking. And incredibly erotic.

At first I could only feel him licking the entrance to my ass. I felt smooth, warm saliva there. It was both soothing and arousing at the same time.

Whilst continuing to flick his tongue against my asshole, he used one of his hands to pull on my scrotum, clasping it firmly at the root, isolating my balls below his fist. He delicately twisted his hand a full 180 degrees and tugged downwards.

It was an exquisite feeling. There was no pain, only an expectation of pain. And a profound sense of trust as someone's hand took charge of my family jewels.

And then, still holding my testicles captive, Brad began to press his face more firmly between my buttocks. I flinched slightly when I felt something dart at my anal sphincter and achieve a momentary entry.

He had curled his tongue and it was now like a micropenis, pushing in and out of me at a rapid speed. I felt my ass relax and surrender to the sensation. I hoped it would last forever.

When Brad finally let go of my balls - and when he finally moved his mouth away from my ass - I felt hornier than a teenage boy. There was no longer any diffidence on my part about being fucked by him. My ass was aflame with desire. I craved something larger than a mere tongue.

'Would you like me to fuck you?' he asked.

'Yes' I said. 'Yes please.'

So he hoisted my hips a bit higher and began to enter me. He used no lube. I was already wet and receptive and his cock - like my own - was oozing pre-cum. He took it very slowly and very gently. I did my best to relax but my ass still resisted fiercely.

He began a swaying side-to-side motion, pressing the head of his dick at the walls of my ass - first to the left, and then to the right. It quelled the resentment of my rectum, relaxing the lining with each gentle movement.

Eventually, Brad's cock was fully inside me. As I moved to rest on my knees and elbows, I reached an exploratory hand behind me. I was anxious to know if he was all the way in. He was. I forced my hand between us to squeeze the base of his shaft and to cup his balls. I experienced a strange sense of triumph.

When he first began to move faster, I experienced considerable apprehension. I was unaccustomed to having things enter me. Of course, like any other person, I was accustomed to stuff exiting my ass.

Each time he drew back it felt as though I had become incontinent. That's not a very romantic description, I know, but I can think of no other way to describe the sensation. But my apprehension soon disappeared.

I grew accustomed to the strange reversal of peristalsis. I grew to crave each forward thrust. When he teased me by withdrawing almost totally, leaving just the tip of his dick twitching at the entrance, I was overwhelmed with the thrill of anticipation.

And when he ceased teasing - when he unexpectedly plunged deep inside me again - I found myself howling in delight.

When Brad rammed into me one last time before ejaculating, my ass was in ecstasy. I managed to clamp down on his shaft and I felt every movement as his cock swelled and burst inside me.

He reached around to grab my dick. Just a few quick jerks and I was lost. Cum spewed out of me. It flew further than it had in years. I felt my asshole clenching on his cock. It was almost agony. But it was also heavenly.

As we lay in the afterglow, I confessed that I'd enjoyed being fucked far more than I'd expected.

'Well, don't start expecting it regularly' he said. 'I much prefer being on the receiving end. This was a rare treat for us both.'

'What brought in on?' I enquired. 'Just a sudden urge to pound the shit out of me?'

He smiled and stood up, beckoning for me to follow. He led me to the full-length mirror in the walk-in wardrobe.

'See for yourself' he proclaimed.

'See what? I can only see the same guy I see every day of my life.'

'That's because you're not really looking' Brad said. 'You just check out your hair and move on. Haven't you noticed anything lately? Like your clothes seeming loose, perhaps.'

I looked again. And this time I surveyed myself side-on, as well as peering over my shoulder at the rear view.

'I've lost weight' I cried. 'No love handles. No tummy wobbles.'

'You probably have lost a bit of weight' said Brad. 'And so have I. After all, we've been pretty active these past three weeks. And I mean outside of bed as well as in.'

'It's a miracle' I exclaimed, turning sideways again to admire myself.

'Leo, you never had love handles in the first place. And I've never seen your stomach wobble once in all the time I've known you. The simple reality is that all our exercise - walking, swimming and screwing like minks - has toned your entire body; redistributed the ounces.'

'And that's why you wanted to fuck me? Because I look thinner?'

'No. It's more because I've been watching your butt constantly when you walk a trail ahead of me or when you beat me to a wave. And I suddenly realised just how cute and sexy your ass is.

I've had an urge for days now to find out if it's just as sexy on the inside.'

'And is it?' I asked.

'Perfect' he assured me. 'I'll drop in again some time when you least expect it.'

Once I'd seen the dramatic effect that exercise can have, I immediately became a gym junkie.

Wherever we travelled after that night, I insisted we track down the nearest gym for a workout. Some of them didn't allow casual usage - they were open to members only - but most were happy to accept our money for the privilege of an hour or two on the premises.

In one of the larger cities, we discovered a gym that was one of the BuffBod' chain. I'd never heard of them before but Brad assured me there were franchises all over the nation.

We arrived at what seemed to be a very quiet time. There were no patrons to be seen and no staff either. I opened and closed the doors a few times, setting off a buzzer that I hoped someone might hear.

Eventually, a young man emerged from a side door. Both Brad and I did a double-take because he was the most gorgeous-looking guy we'd ever seen. The name Matthew was embroidered on his sweatshirt.

'Sorry, guys' he said. 'We're closed for a monthly meeting. I guess I forgot to lock the doors. It's business as usual from tomorrow though.'

'That's a pity' I said. 'We're just passing through and will be moving on tomorrow morning.'

'Tell you what' Matthew said. 'I'll just have a quick word with the boss. I think the meeting's almost done. Just give me a moment.'

He disappeared through the doorway, closing it behind him.

'That guy is like a wet dream' Brad murmured.

I nodded my agreement. Even when you're in a monogamous relationship; even when you're head- over-heels in love with your partner, you can still appreciate physical beauty in others.

It doesn't mean you lust after them - well, maybe a little - but it does mean you admire them and thrill to their all-too-evident charms.

A few minutes later, a number of people emerged from the side door and headed for the exit. Every one of them - male and female - was a vision of good health and fitness. They all wore the same coloured tops and each one had his or her name embroidered above the gym logo.

Shortly afterwards, Matthew returned, accompanied by a guy who looked slightly older.

I began to feel I was trapped in some sort of sci-fi movie - something like "Children of the Corn".

Surely these guys had to be brothers. What were the odds against finding two unrelated guys who looked so blond and so fit and so drop-dead gorgeous?

The older guy's top proclaimed that his name was Andrew.

'Sorry to keep you waiting' he said. 'Matt tells me you're just passing through and hoping to fit in a quick workout.'

I was beyond speech. So was Brad. We just nodded.

Although both were very beautiful, Andrew was by far the handsomer. He exuded rugged masculinity. The younger guy's looks were softer; a subtle and more delicate version of his older brother.

'We're officially closed for the rest of today' Andrew said. 'But I admire people who try to stick to their routine even when on holiday. So you're welcome to use our facilities for as long as you please. Matt and I are just about to have a workout too.'

Surprisingly, it was Brad who responded first. He usually gets a bit tongue-tied when confronted with the unexpected.

'That's very kind of you' he said. 'Thank you very much.'

'Yes' I added, while Brad blushed bright pink. 'It's mighty decent of you. How much do we owe you?'

With a wave of the hand, Andrew dismissed any idea of payment. He said hospitality comes free and hinted that we might return some other time or join another BuffBod gym when we got back to our home town.

I admired his business acumen. Goodwill is every bit as valuable as ready cash.

We introduced ourselves, shaking hands as we did so. They both had a firm handshake and I was impressed that they made no attempt to crush my knuckles. I dislike jocks who try to impress me with their strength.

Brad and I were not dressed for exercise but I was carrying a pack with all our gym gear in it. Matthew pointed us towards the change rooms. Once there, Brad and I looked at each other with incredulity written all over our faces.

'Wow' I whispered. 'Is this place for real or have we accidentally stumbled across the set of a gay movie?'

'I know' he whispered back. 'It's like a Scandinavian smorgasbord out there.'

When we returned to the gym floor, the two men were already into their routine. Both had removed their track-pants and sweatshirts. Their T-shirts were identical but, whereas Matthew was in black Lycra workout shorts, Andrew's shorts were white and baggy.

Brad and I hit the treadmills and then the exercise bikes. It was difficult to focus properly. We had a clear view of Matthew as he lifted weights while Andrew spotted for him. It was impossible not to admire the graceful movements of his chest, biceps and forearms.

It was even more difficult to ignore the package jutting upwards at his groin. I had always considered Lycra as a ridiculous fetish of cyclists and exhibitionists. Now I was admitting to myself that it suited some men perfectly.

A glance at Brad told me that he too was fascinated by young Matthew.

The knock-out blow came when the two gym instructors swapped places. This time Matt was spotting for Andrew. It hit me that loose-legged shorts can be no less fascinating than tight ones. As Andrew spread his legs wide apart, I caught a glimpse of a bulging jock-strap.

Brad hissed to get my attention. He mouthed the word "wow". He too was impressed. Neither of us is a size queen. Indeed, I have never been much interested in cock size. Average or adequate is all one really needs. But there is no denying the impact of something truly impressive.

It was obvious that Andrew was extremely well-equipped. Either that or he routinely padded out his jock with a cucumber and a couple of grapefruit!

Of course, we did not spend the entire session lolly-gagging at the two brothers. We eventually came back to earth and concentrated more on our own set routines. As Brad spotted for me at the bench press, he asked if we were going to shower at the gym or when we got back to the hotel.

'What does it matter?' I asked.

'I'm not sure I want to shower with these two' he replied. 'You might lose all interest in weedy little me.'

'That'll never happen' I said. And then I mouthed the words 'I love you'.

In the end, we did shower at the gym. We'd already changed by the time Andrew and Matthew arrived.

'I hope you both had a good workout' Matthew said.

We assured him that we had, and we both expressed our gratitude for their kindness. Andrew asked me where we were staying. When I told him, a flicker of disgust touched his handsome face.

'The food's OK there but the portion sizes are miniscule' he told us. 'You can't exercise regularly and eat like a sparrow.

Would you be interested in some hearty home-style food? It would be nice if you could join us for dinner at our place. We're right on the beach; well away from the hustle and bustle of city life.'

Brad and I exchanged glances. We very still very much in honeymoon mode; it had become our habit to dine on room service and then snuggle up in bed together afterwards.

'It would make a nice change' Brad suggested tentatively.

'Yes' I said. 'We've been on the road for weeks. Some home cooking and an opportunity to make new friends would be most welcome.'

'Then it's settled' Andrew declared. 'But be warned, it's Matt's turn to cook tonight.'

We all laughed, including Matthew. He gave Andrew a brotherly punch to the biceps.

Having obtained directions and a telephone number - just in case we got lost - Brad and I took our leave.

As we left, Andrew was dropping his shorts, getting ready to take a shower. A fleeting glimpse was all I needed to confirm that he was not hiding any grapefruit in his jock. It was all Andrew.

Back at the hotel, Brad and I inevitably engaged in speculation about the two brothers.

'I don't think the older one is gay' Brad said. 'But I think the younger one is.'

'Who knows?' I wondered. 'Maybe they're both gay. Maybe they're in some kind of incestuous relationship.'

'Or maybe they're just thoroughly nice guys who believe in being hospitable to passing tourists" said Brad. 'It doesn't bother me what they do in bed - if anything. I'm just looking forward to some home-style cooking.'

We dressed similarly. Jeans and short-sleeved shirts. Earlier, as I watched Brad shave, I was suddenly tempted to press myself against him. I pushed against his butt and immediately started to grow hard.

'Later' he said. 'Later. We'll be late otherwise. And if you don't simmer down, you'll have a tell-tale wet spot on your jeans.'

We arrived right on time. Andrew's instructions were easy to follow. Their house was, as promised, right on the beach. We could hear waves breaking on the sand as I parked in the driveway.

From the outside, the house was a simple structure. Long and low-set, with only a simple porch over the entry.

The front door opened before I could knock. Matthew welcomed us both with handshakes and a cheery smile.

'Leo. Brad. Come in. Come in. Welcome to our humble abode.'

We followed him into a huge living room. It was casually but tastefully furnished. None of the ceiling lights were switched on but several-freestanding and table lamps provided ample illumination. To one side was a kitchen and dining area. To the other was a passageway that I assumed led to the bedrooms.

But it was the view beyond that arrested one's eye. There was a broad terrace and then steps leading down to a shimmering azure swimming pool.

'Where's your brother?' Brad asked.

'Andrew decided to be the cook tonight' Matthew said. 'He's outside doing something exotic with the barbecue and some freshly-caught swordfish.

Oh, and by the way, we're not brothers. A lot of people think so, but I assure you the resemblance is purely coincidental.'

At that moment, Andrew entered from the terrace. Again it was handshakes all round.

'No, guys' he said. 'We're not brothers. We're far closer than that. We're lovers.'

Both men watched Brad and me closely to see our reaction. I was a bit surprised. I'd been so certain they were brothers. Or, at the very least, cousins. But I didn't allow my surprise to show.

'Well, while we're all 'fessing up' I replied. 'Brad and I are lovers too. In fact, this road trip is our honeymoon. We got hitched officially about three weeks ago.'

'There you are' cried Matthew in triumph. 'I told you so, Andrew. You owe me a foot-rub!'

'Fair enough' Andrew said. And then, turning back to Brad and me, 'Congratulations to you both. I hope you'll always be as happy as you seem today.'

'Now' Matthew asked. 'Who'd like a drink?'

The meal was delicious and we laughed and chatted like old friends. Inevitably, each of us referred to the past. I explained how Brad and I had met. And Brad made fun of me by talking about my imaginary love handles.

I gathered that Matthew had not had the happiest of upbringings and that he saw Andrew as the knight in shining armour who had rescued him from a horrible life on a farm.

'Whereabouts are you from, Matt?' Brad enquired.

'A terrible place.' he said. 'A town that's only fit to drive through rapidly. A town where no sane person would ever stop.'

'We must be careful not to go there' I joked. 'Does this dreadful place have a name?'

'Plainsville' he replied. 'A very apt name. Plain by name and plain by nature.'

'Plainsville!' I exclaimed. 'Why I've been there. Years ago. When I was in college. I was on my way back from an inter-college debate. I stayed at a motel. It was a bit seedy but I survived.'

Almost imperceptibly, Andrew redirected the conversation. I sensed that there was some underlying story that they were not keen to discuss.

'Well, I'm a home-town boy. An only child. Born and raised right here. Well, not this very spot, but this place was our family beach-house when I was a kid. My mother lives in town but we see her almost every day.'

'She's happy about you two being together?' asked Brad.

'Sure' Andrew replied. 'What's not to be happy about? Sometimes I think she loves Matt more than she loves me. He calls her Mom and she always talks as though she has two sons.'

'People under-estimate the broad-mindedness of those who live outside the big cities' I said. 'I always find small-town folk are more inclined to be neighbourly and accepting of other people's foibles.'

We talked on and on. Matthew served up dessert and some excellent coffee. The time flew by. At one stage, Brad glanced at his watch and suggested we should be going.

'We don't want to keep you up late' he murmured. 'It's all very well for Leo and me. We don't have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at a gym tomorrow morning.'

'Nor do we' Matthew said.

'It's our gym' Andrew explained. 'In fact, we've got several of them scattered hereabouts.

We both work out almost every day, but we move from gym to gym, making sure everything's going well, meeting with the staff, rubbing shoulders with the clientele. That sort of thing.'

This led to a discussion about my own business interests and Brad's. I explained that Brad was going into business for himself when we got back to San Francisco; that he was going to set up as a financial advisor and operate out of home.

'Sounds like life is peachy for all of us' said Andrew.

'Tell you what' Matt cried out impulsively. 'Let's celebrate. Put on some music. Do you guys like to dance. Of course you do. Everyone loves to dance.'

Now, I had never previously danced with a man in my entire life. Never even thought about it. And yet, a few minutes later, there I was - cavorting to music as though I did it all the time.

The music was excellent. Andrew told me he'd transferred his parents' old vinyls to CD and mixed in some current-day hits as well. It was an eclectic mix. We danced to old Motown hits, the Beach Boys, the Beatles and the Stones. We also danced to the more recent hits, most of which were new to my ears.

Occasionally, there was a slow track. Brad and I copied our hosts and swayed as we held each other tight. I noticed Andrew and Matthew kissing several times. Feeling bold, I followed their lead and kissed Brad.

Anyone looking on - and no one was - would immediately know that love was in the air. It seemed incredibly romantic.

But then the faster rhythms returned and we were all dancing like demons. Brad's face was flushed and his eyes shone with enjoyment. I was glad we'd accepted this unexpected invitation to dinner.

Matthew suddenly collapsed into a chair.

'Phew. I'm hot' he exclaimed. 'Who's up for a swim?'

'We don't have swimsuits' said Brad.

'Welcome to swimwear central' Andrew cried. 'We have more speedos and board-shorts here than any other household on earth. You can change in the cabana. Or you can just wear your shorts or briefs. There's no one around to be offended. It's very private here.'

So we swam. In our underwear. I enjoyed the embrace of cool water. So did Brad. His cheeks grew less flushed but his eyes still shone brightly. We were having fun. Honeymoons don't have to be deadly serious.

The breeze felt suddenly cool when we emerged. Even with a towel around him, Brad was shivering. Matthew insisted that Brad and I have a hot shower, leading us to a bedroom with adjoining bathroom and providing us with towels. He placed our clothes on a cabinet.

'I'll leave you to it' he said. 'If you like, I can run your underwear through the dryer for a while. Either that or just go commando.'

Left alone, Brad and I decided to shower together.

'Saving time and being mindful of their utilities bill' joked Brad as he soaped and caressed my balls.

I did the same to him, but I soaped some other bits too. Before long we both had hard-ons. The dilemma then was what to do next. It didn't seem right to have flourishing erections in our hosts' bathroom. And it seemed even less right to do anything about it.

So we towelled ourselves dry, dressed, and rejoined Matthew and Andrew by the pool.

Mathew had changed into board-shorts and a sweater, but Andrew - seemingly impervious to cold - was still in his briefs.

He was an impressive sight. The material was still damp. Two plum-sized balls filled the pouch to capacity. His cock was not tucked downwards - perhaps because there was no room to do so; it lay slightly to one side and curved upwards toward the waistband.

As I said earlier, I don't judge anyone by the size of his dick. It's just the outcome of some genetic randomness. But Andrew was obviously a big winner in the genetic stakes. I pitied Matthew if he was the bottom in their relationship.

Brad and Matthew sat close to each other, chatting and, presumably, sharing confidences. I took a chair next to Andrew and we talked about the beach-house and the alterations he'd made to the original structure. At one stage he looked across at our partners and smiled.

'Those two are getting along famously' he commented with a smile. 'I'm glad. I'm almost ten years older than Matt and it's good for him to catch up with other youngsters now and then.'

I mulled this over for a few moments.

'You raise an interesting point, Andrew. I hadn't given it a lot of thought previously. I should take it on board. After all, I'm some eighteen years older than Brad.'

'Oh God' Andrew wailed, clapping a hand to his forehead. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just talking about us - Matthew and me. Every relationship is different. And besides, Leo, you don't look anywhere near that much older than Brad.'

Matthew had heard his partner's raised voice and noticed his expression.

'Are you OK, Andrew?' he called out from the other side of the pool.

'I'm fine' Andrew replied quickly, and he smiled reassuringly.

Once Brad and Matthew had resumed their cosy chat, Andrew apologised again. I told him no apology was needed. He had raised a valid point.

I had sometimes agonised over the age difference in my relationship with Brad, but it was usually from the standpoint that he might one day grow tired of an elderly partner. After all, I would be in my sixties when he was in his forties.

I had not looked at things from a different - and equally important - perspective. Maybe it would help if Brad and I always ensured a good mix of friends. Maybe it made sense to have friends at each end of the age spectrum.

Shortly after that, we called it a night. Matthew suggested that we were welcome to sleep over - use the guest bedroom - but I vetoed this on the ground that we needed to hit the road in around eight hours time. It was already past 2am. It really was time to move. We promised to call by on our way back to San Francisco.

We said our farewells. Andrew and I shook hands. I was amused to notice that Brad exchanged kisses with both our hosts. Only a kiss on the cheeks it's true, but indicative of his greater ease with being gay. I allowed myself to be kissed too. I needed to lighten up a bit.

On the way home, Brad talked incessantly. He had obviously had a great evening - as had I - and he was keen to discuss every minute detail. I learned that Matthew was the passive partner and Andrew the top. Which didn't greatly surprise me.

'What about the way Andrew lounged around in briefs that were almost transparent?' I asked. 'Was that designed to impress us or to seduce us? Is he desperate to have everyone admire his assets?'

'No. No' Brad said. 'Far from it. Matthew told me that Andrew is almost ashamed of his junk. He's embarrassed about how well-hung he is. He worries that guys might only see his dick and not the person attached to it.'

'He didn't seem all that embarrassed to me.'

'Because' Brad insisted, 'he was at ease in our company. He didn't feel any need to cover up. He felt free to act as he normally does in his own home. He didn't feel that either one of us was sizing him up as a stud. He paid us the compliment of relaxing totally in our presence.

Besides, Matthew says Andrew rarely feels the cold.'

'Think about it Leo; after the initial impact, did you find yourself endlessly staring at his package or did you simply start engaging with him as a person?'

'OK. You're right. I get it. He doesn't want to be seen as freak. He wants to be accepted for all his many good qualities; not just for the junk between his legs.'

'Exactly' Brad said.

'And you managed to get all this information out of Matthew?' I asked. 'Did you two speak freely about everything?'

'Pretty much' Brad admitted. 'Matthew told me he's a dedicated bottom. He's only ever fucked Andrew once, and that was only because Andrew wanted to give it a try.'

'Interesting' I said, as I turned into the street that led to our hotel.

'Yes' Brad agreed. 'Would you believe Andrew's cock is around eleven inches long? I asked Matthew if it hurts and he said no - not if you're relaxed; not when you're in love.'

I slowed down and turned to look Brad in the face.

'You guys discussed everyone's dick size?' I asked incredulously.

Brad had the grace to at least blush a little.

'It wasn't the chief focus of our discussion' he said. 'It just came up when we were talking about various positions and stuff.'

'I see' I murmured quietly. 'So it was just a harmless little chat, then?'

'Yeah. And fascinating too. For a start, both Matthew and Andrew are uncircumcised. Isn't that interesting?'

'Yes. Fascinating.'

'And your cock is way bigger than Matthew's. Even mine is bigger than his.'

'Cool' I muttered as I manoeuvred into a parking bay in the hotel basement.

'And their favourite position is the same as ours. They both like to ...'

'Enough, Brad' I shouted. 'Enough. I really don't need to know all this stuff about two virtual strangers.

And I'm a bit disappointed that you saw fit to share such intimate details with Matthew. Our sex life, my dick, other people's foreskins - surely these are all intensely private matters.'

I noticed Brad's head drop. I had no doubt his lower lip had dropped as well. And I knew his face would be almost scarlet with mortification. But I ignored this.

Having parked the vehicle, I strode ahead to the elevator and we ascended without a word passing between us. Once inside our room, I undressed quickly and got into bed.

'Are we having our first quarrel?' Brad asked.

'Yes. I'm afraid we are.

I apologise for my old-fashioned views about privacy. I guess I'm just an old fogey. A dinosaur. Let's just call it a night, Brad.

I'm tired and cranky. I'm sure I'll be less grumpy after a good night's sleep.'

Brad slid into bed beside me. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and then rolled onto my side, facing away from him.

But neither of us was able to sleep. I knew that Brad was probably shedding silent tears. As my anger subsided, I began to feel mean for shouting at him. I felt guilty about imposing my views on someone else.

I turned over. Brad had his back to me. I moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. In an instant he was facing me and I was kissing his tear-stained face.

'I'm sorry' he sobbed.

'So am I, sweetheart. I have no right to censor your conversations with other people and I have no right to shout at you either. I'm truly sorry. I'm a bad-tempered ogre.'

'You called me sweetheart' he said. 'You've never called me that before. I love it.'

'Do you love being fucked, too?'

'Mmm. Maybe. I could probably find pleasure with a guy who wants to let off some steam. A guy who wants to fuck all the anger out of his system by pounding my ass into the middle of next week.

I'm in no mood for gentleness. Maybe I deserve a really punishing fuck.'

I grabbed the lube from the bedside table. A minute or so later, with no foreplay of any kind, I was deep inside Brad's wonderful ass. He was on all fours as I took him from behind.

I took Brad at his word. There was nothing gentle about the way I slammed into him. It was a merciless pounding. I went at him like a wild thing. He moaned throughout.

I knew he was enjoying the brutality of it almost as much as he was enjoying the pleasure.

Sometimes I stayed poised at the entrance to his ass, holding perfectly still and giving him no hint of when the next incursion might be. When he made a move to push back onto me and re-engage, I deliberately retreated, forcing him to wait until I was ready to plunge inside him again.

Each time that happened, he yelped as the head of my dick rushed headlong through his gut and bumped against some tender point deep inside him.

No matter how exciting the evening had been; no matter how intensely aroused I was, my aim was to delay my ejaculation for as long as possible. I felt Brad's asshole tighten on my shaft. I knew he was about to blow his load. So I withdrew and reached around to give his balls a really vicious squeeze.

He yelped again, this time in pain. But it served to defeat the surge in his loins. Once I knew he was no longer about to ejaculate, once his sphincter had relaxed, I went back to fucking the daylights out of him.

Only when Brad's ragged breathing became a series of hiccupping sighs did I relent. Not the pace. That continued relentlessly. As did the force behind each inward thrust. No. I relented in that I finally began to focus on blasting a load of jizz into every nook and cranny of his exhausted fuck-chute.

I warned him that this was it. I held back, the tip of my cock teasing mercilessly at his yearning asshole.

'Brad Johnson' I said. 'Sweetheart. You are about to be flooded with creamy hot cum. Any second now it will spurt deep inside you.'

And then, timing it to the millisecond, I gave one last cataclysmic thrust and felt my cock unleash in the furthest recesses of his magnificent warm rectum. I stayed there, continuing to spurt wildly as my hand jerked at his dick until he too blew a stream of cum that seemed endless.

Afterwards, before finally drifting off to sleep, we apologised to each other again. We snuggled together like spoons, Brad's buttocks up hard against my still semi-erect cock.

I inserted a finger into him and imagined it to be surrounded by my own jizz. It was a stirring thought.

I managed to cram my dick into his cum-filled ass. And that's how we slept. Ready for immediate action when dawn broke.

I no longer cared if Brad gossiped about our sex life. I had no reason to be embarrassed if he did. Our most recent fuck was nothing to be ashamed of.

I knew he would sleep satisfied. And I knew I would satisfy him again in the morning.

I was as much in love as ever. Perhaps even more so.


Andrew Tait

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