The Widowers Club

This is a story about man on man sex. If this offends you please do not read further. Otherwise please enjoy this story which is the sixteenth chapter of a longer piece about mature widowers who take care of each other's needs. Thanks to those of you who took the trouble to email me a few line of encouragement for earlier chapters – such notes are the lifeblood of any author! I'd be very interested to receive your feedback and suggestions for future chapters. My email is [email protected]

I've had a number of emails from readers who've said how they were in a similar situation to the guys in the story, and how they wished there was a similar group of friends in their area. If this is you, why not try to set one up? There are plenty of contact websites available throughout the world where you can be very explicit about what you're looking for. Perhaps even refer people to this story so that they get the idea! Imagine how different life could be...

If you enjoy this story you may enjoy the other offering I have on this site – Educating David.

To my surprise I had mixed feelings about the week on the Greek island. Much of it I enjoyed but in many ways I felt that there had been too much sex. Yes! I can’t believe that I’m writing that, but the more I reflect the more I feel it’s true. You can have too much of a good thing!

In the half year since Alan had seduced me and widened my sexual horizons I think I’d engaged in more sexual activity than in total across the couple of decades previous, and I’d enjoyed this tremendously. It was now my normal life to spend two or three nights a week sharing a bed with a man I got on with really well – both socially and sexually – and every couple of weeks this’d extend to three or even four of my closest circle of male friends overnighting together. On top of this a number of us would frequently get together for an afternoon of sucking and fucking at someone’s house, sessions that again would bring me an enormous amount of unashamed pleasure. And then, of course, there was the monthly hedonistic abandon of the meeting of The Widowers Club at Thebes spa.

Thus I’d assumed that spending a whole week – morning, noon and night – located in the equivalent of a four or five hour Thebes session would be just as pleasurable. But to be frank it was too much. For me, at least. It was raunchy and uninhibited, but in many ways so often it felt really empty. As far as I was concerned there wasn’t enough of the true emotional intimacy that first enticed me into Alan’s bed and which I’d enjoyed so much with many of my friends ever since.

Don’t get me wrong! Much of the sex in Greece was enjoyable. And I had a number of experiences for the first time that really turned me on and which I’ll readily repeat given the opportunity. Nude oil wrestling was something I particularly enjoyed, especially when I imagined being back two thousand years and more where this to be the normal state of things at the very place where I was currently staying. The thought of males of all ages competing together as naked as the day was a real turn on for me! I also loved the opportunity to spend most of the day totally naked and knew that once the warmer weather arrived in England I’d be forgoing clothes as much as I possibly could, whether alone or in the company of likeminded people. I’d bought a soft rubber cock cage the last time I’d been to Thebes and discovered that it was a particular delight to walk around naked and totally uninhibited with a raging erection supported by the cage. Latent exhibitionism? Perhaps…

I’d also been the object of an edging session where I’d been blindfolded and restrained to a sunbed, then covered in oil and caressed and wanked for what turned out to be almost two hours – being brought by my master to the very edge of orgasm before stimulation was stopped to allow me to calm down a little with this cycle then repeated over and over until I was finally released through what was one of the most explosive ejaculations I can remember. Like many of our activities it was captured on video and I get really turned on by hearing my screams as I finally orgasm and actually shoot over my head!

During the week one of our party had his birthday, and this was celebrated by him being fucked, at his own suggestion, by literally everyone else! All thirty nine of us! And must admit I definitely enjoyed being part of that particular afternoon activity. I took him midway through the session, and still get a hard-on when I think of my rock hard cock sliding up and down a chute which had already been lubricated by twenty or so previous loads and was by then literally oozing semen. When my turn came around it only took me three or four minutes to explode inside James. As I was wearing my cock cage I stayed really hard even after I’d ejaculated and pulled out, and the whole mind-blowing experience was completed by Alan coming over and wanking me off using as lubrication the liberal coating of my own and other guys’ spunk that covered my dick. I was so turned on by it all that he managed to make me shoot again within minutes of me having come inside the birthday boy – and not just a pensioner’s dribble either!

But for all the sex I engaged in over the week, what was missing most of the time was the intimacy. The nightly rotation of bed partners meant that I shared a bed with someone I really got on with for less than half of the holiday. And I even had to spend one night sharing with someone I didn’t particularly like at all. On reflection I think I’m lucky and I’m blessed with the social circle I have, one that provides me with lots of uninhibited sex but which also gives me loads of emotional support. Will I go back to the island again next year? To be honest I don’t know. We’ll have to see.

Anyway – like most holidays even just a week after we got back it seemed like a distant memory as life rapidly returned to normal. Fortunately even in the week we’d been away there’d been a discernible change in the seasons. Trees were budding everywhere and the temperature had begun to rise noticeably. Spring was clearly on the way, and my daily stroll into the village to pick up the newspaper became a lot more pleasant than it had been in the greyness and drizzle which had made up much of the winter months.

I know that these days it’d be far more efficient to have an online subscription to my paper, and to read it on my tablet, but opting to stay with a hard copy, without delivery, means that I have to start each morning with a healthy walk. A good thing for someone my age (I’ve been told!). This particular morning, as I turned back into my cul-de-sac on my return from the newsagents a minibus drew up at the house three doors away from me. The front door opened immediately and my neighbours Mark and his wife Penny came out and walked towards the waiting vehicle. Both were in their sixties and both, I’m confident in saying, still look amazing from a physical point of view. Penny had always been a stunner, and even now she could be taken for early forties, I reckon. And now that I’d become a bit of a connoisseur of the mature male form I’d happily describe Mark as a stunner as well. Before they reached it the doors of the minibus opened, Penny clambered on board and it left. By then I was only a few houses away and Mark stood on his drive and waited for me to reach him.

“How is she?” I asked. Mark’s wife had Alzheimer’s. She’d been diagnosed several years earlier, just as Mark had retired, and he’d spent his life since then caring for her as she steadily declined. I didn’t see much of either of them these days, but when I did see them two things were clear: Mentally she was starting to deteriorate quite rapidly, and, from the way that Mark looked after her, he was devoted to her.

“Not too good.” He gently kicked the back tyre of his car as he stood with his hands in his pockets. “She goes off to the day centre three times a week, but I’m not sure she even knows where she’s going now. To be honest it’s more of a break for me than an outing for her.” He began to choke up, took a deep breath and regained control. “But it is what it is, eh?”

I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “You do a wonderful job, mate. If there’s ever anything… You know…”

Mark smiled. “I know. If there is, I’ll be right over.” He took a deep breath and twitched his head towards the house. “How about a cup of coffee? I’ve treated myself to one of those fancy new machines...”

I didn’t really need a cup, and had a couple of jobs I intended to get round to, but sensed Mark’s need for some lucid company. “Sure. Not got a lot on today,” I lied.

“Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays… From when we get up I’m looking forward to when the minibus comes,” Mark confided as we sat in his lounge with our mugs of fancy coffee, “and that makes me feel really selfish.”

“Stop that! Right now!” I said in quite a stern voice. “No one could do more for Penny than you’re doing. It’s been what, four years now?”

“I retired five years ago come August. Penny was diagnosed in the October.”

“And pretty much all that time you’ve done everything for her.”

“I know. It’s just…”

He didn’t need to say it. It was clear that after decades of marriage he still loved Penny with all his soul and wanted to do everything he could for her. Because that’s what real lovers do. Not as an obligation, but as a true expression of their love. But on the other hand he really wanted – no, he absolutely needed – some time for himself, some opportunity to enjoy himself, but couldn’t help feeling inconsiderate whenever he put his own needs ahead of those of his wife, even when she wasn’t there.

“Imagine it was the other way round,” I suggested. “Say it was you with Alzheimer’s and Penny left to do the caring. Would you begrudge her a few days a week for herself while you went off to the day centre?”

“No, of course not…”

“So what’s the difference? I’m sure that she’d feel the same as you.”

That freed his mind a bit, and for a while Mark opened up about how his life worked these days, and of the changes that Penny’s illness had forced on them.

“We sleep in separate beds now,” he confided after a while. “In the same room, but in separate beds.” He took a deep breath and looked over towards me as if considering whether to go on. “Penny’s sixty seven, but I still find her stunningly attractive.” A shake of the head. “She’s still got the figure she had thirty five years ago. Almost.” He gave a little laugh. “And she turns me on.”

I nodded. As I’ve said, he was right about Penny. She was a stunner and had always been so. He’d been a lucky man.

“But she has no idea what’s going on these days, so I don’t feel… It wouldn’t be right…” He took a deep breath and started his sentence again. “If I had sex with her I don’t know whether she’d understand what was going on, so I haven’t touched her like that for over three years now. I’d hate to think that deep down she knows what’s happening, and for whatever reason doesn’t want me too and that I was forcing myself on her in any way.” He swallowed hard. “I kiss her, but like you would a daughter or sister. As for anything more, well…”

“And she never… You know…?”

“No, she doesn’t seem interested.” He looked sad. “I still shower her, and we actually both get naked for that. It’s easier. But she seems to have little idea of any sexual implications – she just stands under the water and lets me wash her.” Mark became very emotional and began to choke up again. He took another deep breath, and then carried on. “I sometimes get hard when I’m washing her – I just can’t help it. Physically she’s still the woman I had sex with for over forty years and the mind…” Another deep breath. “It just gets carried away.”

“And Penny?”

“Nothing. No comment. No playful grabbing of my dick like she used to when we were in the shower together. She just stands there in silence and lets me wash her and then rinse the soap off.” He looked up and started to blush. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this…”

I chose to treat his revelation as casually as if he were discussing what they liked to eat for dinner. “It must be really hard for you. Not a good situation. And if it helps to share, then I’m happy to listen.”

We’d been neighbours for many years, but never particularly close. Perhaps that was why he found it possible to unburden himself onto me rather than someone who was closer to the two of them.

He looked as if he was weighing up whether to continue. Presently he made up his mind and broke into a sad smile as he went on. “Most of the time these days I go and have a wank before we shower so that I don’t end up being aroused when I’m washing her. I just settle her in front of the TV, lock myself in my study and rub one out. In front of a computer screen.” He looked up at me. “Does that shock you?”

I looked back at him, and my mind started working overtime. I don’t know how long I was considering my response because I still hadn’t said anything when Mark spoke again.

“You see, I have shocked you, haven’t I? The idea of an old man like me sitting alone and wanking to porn? While his demented wife stares blankly at the television in the next room. Pretty sordid, no?”

I shook my head. “What’s shocked me, actually, is that you feel you can be open with me about it. That’s a real compliment.” I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “We all have our physical needs. Just the same as when we were thirteen or fourteen. And when our partners are no longer an option… Well, we have to, well, make other arrangements…” I laughed, probably a bit more heartily than I needed. “I’m a widower myself, remember!”

“But you’re different. I’m not finding another woman, that’s for sure.” Mark was very quick to respond. “At least while Penny’s still around. Even if she isn’t in a position to find out, I’m not going to betray her like that.”

I thought for a few seconds more before responding. I thought back over the many conversations I’d had with men in our position over the previous six months, and deep down I knew that there was one thing I could do to make Mark’s life a little more enjoyable. And because I could do it, that I should do it.

“If I confide something deeply personal with you, do you promise not to take offence, and not to tell anyone else? And if you find what I say in any way distasteful to just forget what I’d said?”

Mark’s forehead furrowed into a frown. “You’ve intrigued me now,” he laughed. “And you’ve totally trapped me! I’ve got to agree because I’ll die of curiosity if I don’t!”

So I spend a few minutes telling him about the Widowers’ Club. How I’d been seduced by Alan (while not mentioning his name) and how my physical needs were now more than taken care of, but entirely without this involving women (apart from occasionally watching some straight porn). Mark sat in silence as I told the story, from time to time his mouth falling open.

“So six or seven months ago,” I concluded, “I’d never have imagined myself in bed with another fella. Now I think it’s entirely natural for perfectly normal masculine blokes like us to share intimacy in that way. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I truly believe that it’s the ideal way for widowers like me – we get the closeness and intimacy, and the sex, but we don’t end up with the complexity of a long-term relationship with another woman and all that could mean for the family and for the way we remember the relationship we had with our wives of so many decades. I hadn’t considered it before, but the more I think about it now the more it seems ideal for blokes in your position as well.

“In many ways you’re almost a widower yourself, Mark. The only difference is that physically Penny is still with you. Mentally it sounds as if you lost her a long time ago. But I understand that feel you can’t betray your wedding vows by going with another woman while she’s still around. But does another man count the same? Perhaps not. That’s up to you. As I’ve said, the way the Widowers’ Club operates means we don’t do relationships – just good, deep friendships. Very good friendships. But instead of going down to the golf club, or the pub we… So there’s no betrayal there either.”

“Wow!” Mark’s eyes were almost bulging as he looked across at me when I’d finished. “I mean, wow!”

I stood up. “I’m going home now. I’m going to be in all day. If you find what I’ve said distasteful, then please – just forget it. If you don’t mind what I’ve said, but don’t think it’s a solution to your problem then just ignore it and carry on. But if you think it’s something that might interest you then come across and give me a knock.”

And with that I left.

Just under an hour later the doorbell rang. Mark was standing there, looking very red faced.

“Can I come in?” As he asked he looked furtively over his shoulder as if the whole cul-de-sac knew what we’d been talking about earlier, and why he’d come across to my house.

“Course you can.” I stood aside and let him pass into the hallway.

For a moment we stood silently looking at each other. He was blushing in a very cute way – like a teenager caught wanking. If I’d been in any doubt as to why he’d come over his blushing removed them, and I thought the easiest way to move us past the point of embarrassment was for me to take control of the situation. So I moved towards him and began to rub his crotch through his trousers.

His first reaction was to look all around the house – the hall, the open plan lounge, down the corridor towards the bedroom. I realised that he’d never been inside in all the years we’d known each other, and it was clear that he was looking where the windows were.

“It’s ok. I’m not overlooked at all. No one can see anything.” And as if to emphasise the point I began to strip off. I knocked off the felt slipper-like things one of my children had given me for Christmas, then tugged my polo shirt out of my chinos and pulled it over my head. I threw it in the corner. Then I unbuckled my trousers, unzipped the zipper, dragged them down my legs and pulled them off. Standing in just my underpants I raised my head and looked at Mark.

His mouth was slightly open and his tongue protruded just a tiny bit between his lips. “You’re looking good, Roger,” he said in a very croaky voice, and reached out and touched the bulge in my briefs.

The touch was very gentle, exploring the outline of my cock and then my balls with the tips of his fingers. I gave out a soft groan and began to stiffen. “Thanks,” I said and reached across and started to massage his nipples with my thumbs. “Should we lose this?” I whispered after a short while.

Mark immediately stopped rubbing my bulge and quickly pulled off his tee shirt, then without stopping kicked off his shoes without unlacing them, undid his belt and the waist button of his trousers and pulled them off as well. When he straightened up again and looked at me his cheeks had reddened further into an even deeper blush as we faced each other clad only in our underwear. Mark was wearing a faded pair of green briefs with no fly. His dick was bulging and pushed over to one side, and at its well defined tip there was a dark wet ring about half the size again of a 10 pence coin.

I reached out and rubbed a fingertip around the wet spot. “I do believe someone’s a little aroused,” I smiled.

He reached between my legs again, and touched a similar dark stain that had started to appear on my own pants. “As soon as you left I went onto the porn. But instead of my usual places I searched for mature gay men.” He looked me in the eye, almost defiantly. “Thinking about what you’d said, I couldn’t believe how hot I found it. I was tempted to rub one out there and then, and to leave it at that, but I knew that in truth what I really wanted was…”

I didn’t let him finish, but instead drew him into a tight embrace, and with our two cocks rubbing against each other through the material of our underpants I kissed him. Passionately. And he responded, instinctively.

For a minute or so we explored each other’s mouths with our tongues while our crotches rubbed together and our hands explored the other’s shoulders, back and bum. Neither of us could resist groaning deep in our throats while we embarked on this voyage of discovery.

“Would you like to see the bedroom?” I asked as I pulled my lips away from his, and without waiting for a response I grabbed his hand and led him through to my bed.

The duvet was folded back, and I didn’t bother to adjust it but just pulled Mark down onto the bed beside me. I then pushed him over onto his back and grabbed his underpants, one hand either side of the waistband, and pulled them down his legs and off his feet, pulling his socks off at the same time. I threw them onto the floor at the head of the bed, then turned to examine my neighbour’s body.

Now we’d got this far Mark didn’t seem as embarrassed. He lay back with what was a really decent sized cock pointing towards his face. He was hard enough for the circumcised (oh joy!) tip to remain an inch or so above his belly. Unlike all of the other men I’d had sex with he had a reasonable pubic bush both above his cock and down on his balls, but apart from that he had little bodily hair. For a guy in his late sixties he was very well preserved. I ripped off my own underwear, threw it on top of Mark’s and gathered him into a naked embrace.

We played with our bodies for a while. Kissing, caressing, grabbing the other’s cock and playing with it. I was amazed at the amount of pre-cum Mark appeared to be producing – I didn’t know at the time whether it was the specific circumstances that were causing it or whether he was just one of life’s lucky leakers. Given what we were now engaged in, and how closely we lived together, I assumed that I’d find out the answer to that little question in due course.

Mark seemed drawn to my hairless pubes, and kept caressing them very gently with the palm of his hand. I found out later that before she was diagnosed Penny used to be completely waxed, something that had really turned Mark on. Since that time she’d not been done as he’d not thought it right to have someone poking around down there, and it didn’t seem to make any difference to Penny.

“Would you like me to suck you?” I asked him.

“But what about the rules?” Mark asked.

When I’d told him about the Widowers’ Club I’d explained the STI testing requirements we had for anyone who was having unprotected sex with other members of the club. “That’s ok – I can go over and get tested again – it’s no problem and doesn’t take any time.” In the back of my mind I thought that we could go and get tested together if, after our session, Mark decided that he’d like to continue our friendship on this level. But I decided to say nothing at this point.

“Hmmm. If that’s ok then I’d love it.”

I repositioned myself so I was pointing towards Mark’s feet, with my head directly aligned with his cock. That, of course, meant that my own cock was also aligned with his. His penis really was a beauty. He had a large head which was significantly wider than his shaft, characteristic I’d say of many men who’d been cut early on in life and who’ve had the privilege of their knobhead developing unrestrained by a foreskin. Trying to minimise the danger of getting hair trapped in my throat I pulled his bush back gently and engulfed the head of his penis with my mouth.

Mark groaned as his dick was surrounded by the wet warmth of my mouth. I’m not sure how often Penny had blown him, but I’m pretty sure no woman would ever be able to suck a cock as well as a man who loved cocksucking could.

My mouth was filled with the taste of his pre-cum as it flooded out of his faucet. I sucked him with a very light pressure, alternating by licking his cockhead all over with my tongue. He began to move himself very gently back and forth as if trying to fuck my mouth. Sensing this I became more passive and let my mouth just become a moist receptacle for his penis, drawing in my cheeks softly to give a tiny bit of slippery resistance to the sides of his dick, but not too much. He gave a deep groan. I moved my arm across his body and began to caress his bum. As I did that I felt his lips on my own penis, then my dick being enveloped by his mouth as he replicated the things I’d done to him. I don’t know if he’d ever sucked a dick before, but he seemed to know what to do. Although it’s not hard, is it, to replicate the sort of things you like being done to yourself? In many ways I reckon that’s the crucial difference between gay and straight sex – when men are pleasuring men they have an innate understanding of what their partner is experiencing.

For several minutes we continued to worship each other’s cocks and to explore our backsides with our fingertips and palms. Mark had a very muscular arse and it was a real pleasure to rub my hands around those globes, feeling the roundness as they dipped down to his legs and then to drag my fingers back up the cleft between his buttocks. He seemed to enjoy this as he gyrated his bum ever so slightly while I caressed him.

Suddenly his buttocks tightened and I heard Mark emit another groan from deep down in his chest, much louder this time. Then I felt him explode inside my mouth. As he ejaculated I gently milked him using the inside of my cheeks and my tongue, and was rewarded by rope after rope of semen being pumped into me as Mark’s body jerked in orgasm. He opened his mouth to give a cry of orgasmic ecstasy just as I began to shoot. Keeping my mouth attached to his cock I quickly moved my hand onto my own dick and began frantically wanking it to bring my own climax to a messy but pleasurable conclusion.

As we came down from our orgasms we lay together in silence for only a few seconds then, with my mouth still full of Mark’s cum, I detached myself from him and repositioned myself so we were head to head. His eyes were closed as he luxuriated in his post-climactic glow, and I saw that I’d shot my load all over his face. I leant in to him and placed my lips on his. When he opened them a little I pushed my tongue in to widen the gap then began to share his own spunk with him in a cummy kiss. He instinctively seemed to understand what was going on and accepted my offering readily, pushing his tongue into my mouth and searching around for more of his own semen. As we kissed and our cheeks rubbed together I felt my face getting wet and sticky from my own jizz that had covered him when I’d blown.

I reached down to his dick and began to gently rub his wet softness. Immediately I felt his hand do the same to me, and for a couple of minutes we continued to pass spunk and spit back and forth between each other’s mouths until eventually the delicious taste of semen had all but disappeared and we broke apart and each lay flat on our backs, staring at the ceiling.

“Wow!” said Mark eventually.

I turned and looked at him. There were still traces of my cum on his face, and I leant over and licked them off.

“Wow!” he repeated. “That was…”

“Amazing?” I suggested.

“If you’re into understatement.” He laughed. “I can’t believe what we just did.” He paused for a few seconds. “And how incredibly enjoyable it was.” He turned towards me. No longer was there any hint of embarrassment on his face. He kissed me. The first time he’d initiated it. “How did you feel, you know, after the first time?”

I thought for a few moments. “Strange, I think. It was different to anything I’d ever imagined or done before and something deeply entrenched inside was telling me it was very wrong. But on the other hand I’d really enjoyed it. It felt a harmless and natural thing to do, especially with a mate. I remember lying there, covered in spunk – mine and his – and in many ways not caring. Feeling as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Which, when you come down to it, is what it is, really.” I put my hand out and gently took hold of Mark’s cock.

“Hmmm”, Mark responded, grabbing my dick and rubbing it gently between my circumcision scar and the ridge under the glans.

I started to replicate what he was doing to me – I assumed he was naturally feeling me in the way that he liked to fondle himself, so thought there was no better way I could give him pleasure. “And I found then, and always, that I enjoy the post-sex interaction as much as the lusty session that’s proceeded it. Lying there naked, covered in the aftermath of our rutting, chatting about whatever – sometime sexual, often nothing of the sort. With a true friend it’s the height of intimacy. And it’s even more enjoyable when we can do this at night and sleepover together.”

Mark moved onto his side, laid his head on my chest and relaxed onto me in a sleepy cuddle. He placed his leg over mine and I felt his wet dick on my thigh. I also experienced the feeling of pubic hair on my skin as well – a novel experience since all members of the club were regular visitors to Doug for a complete waxing. I could tell how much Mark had missed such physical intimacy – merely lying together naked with another human being who you like – and that although this could in no way whatsoever compare with what he’d lost it was at least a very poor substitute.

Over the next hour or so we talked about this and that. To be honest much of the conversation was to do with one aspect of sex or another – understandable I suppose when two people get to know each other like this for the first time. I told him about my journey, and of all I’d done over the preceding half year. From time to time one of us would get semi hard, and the other would play with the stiffening penis in an nonchalant way while the chatting continued.

“The one thing that amazed me,” I said at one stage, “was how I discovered I love being fucked in the arse. Never thought that’d be me, to be honest.” I described my experiences both of being fucked and of fucking other men. “It takes a bit of practice, and can be a little painful at first, but if you find you like it there’s nothing to compare with having your prostate gently massaged by a mate’s cock.” I laughed, then turned to look at Mark. He grinned at me and laughed too. Amused, I think, by the situation that had taken us from sharing a coffee to lying naked together discussing anal sex in just a few short hours!

He was full of questions about how it was done and what it felt like to be fucked up the arse. As the conversation progressed we both became fully erect again, and stimulated each other as we talked.

“Why don’t you try it?” I asked him when he asked me how fucking a man compared to fucking a woman. “I’m what they call ‘versatile’ in gayspeak – I like giving and receiving.”

I was surprised how little encouragement Mark needed. I suppose it would’ve been a little different if I was going to top him, but with me as bottom there weren’t so many uncertainties for him I guess. I opened my beside cabinet and took out the large pump of lube that I kept in there, squirted a liberal portion into my hand and used it to prepare my arse for him. “Always use a lot of lube,” I told him as I rubbed it around my arsehole and up the chute. “Your arse isn’t as moist as a vagina, so it can be quite painful otherwise. And put some on your dick as well,” I suggested. “That’ll make it easier to slide in.”

I worked on my arse to make it ready, starting with a single finger, then two, then three. I got Mark to watch and gave a bit of a commentary of what I was doing. All the time he was massaging lube into his dick which was by now fully erect again.

When I felt I’d opened myself up enough I moved myself onto my back and put my legs up in the air as far as I could manage. “Position your dick right next to my hole and then push in gently,” I told him. “Get your knees as close to me as you can – that’ll mean you get inside really deep and I guarantee we’ll both like that!”

Mark moved himself across the bed on his knees, got himself so that his thighs were touching the back of my legs then pulled his body back a little so that he could manoeuvre his dick down from my balls, along the perineum and into my anus.

“Slowly,” I said as I felt his swollen cockhead enter me, and I pushed onto him a little.

He sighed as he started to feed himself into me. He’d got a decent sized cock – at least seven inches now he was fully erect – which was also quite fat, so I felt the intense pleasure and slight pain as he stretched me open as his cock moved inside me.

Once I felt his pubic hair on my balls I knew he was pretty much fully in, so I moved my legs onto his shoulders. “That feel good?”

“Hmmm.”

I tightened my anal muscles and moved ever so slightly to give his cock some stimulation. I felt the burst of pleasure as his cock massaged my prostate a little and gasped. “I think you probably know what to do next…”

Mark needed no further encouragement, and he began to move his cock slowly in and out of my anus. One of the benefits of the position we’d chosen was that I got to see his face as he fucked me, and if I’d had any misgivings about what I’d done they were removed straightaway. For as he thrust his penis into me Mark’s face was the picture of pleasure. After a few minutes he moved his weight forward onto me, folding me almost double in the process. I find this a particularly pleasurable position to be fucked in – I suppose it really exposes my prostate to a good seeing to – and as he increased his tempo slightly I sensed my own cock starting to leak precum. Mark continued to pump away, his breathing getting heavier and his chest starting to glisten with sweat.

However pleasant I was finding the contortion into which I’d been folded it became painful to maintain and after a couple of minutes I slipped my legs off Mark’s shoulders and wrapped them around his back. I find the feeling of a partner’s body on the inside of my legs when I’m in this position really erotic, and I squeezed a little and pulled him into me to make sure he was as deeply inside me as he could get. My legs moved down slightly so that my ankles were on his buttocks, and I began to press on them in time with his rhythm.

He leaned forward and gave me a deep kiss, and stopped thrusting for a second or two. “Wank me while you fuck me,” I said.

Mark lifted himself back a little so that my now hard cock was accessible, then reached for the lube which was on the bed beside us and deposited a huge dollop in his hand. He wrapped his fingers around my dick and began to move it up and down my shaft. I rocked myself backwards and forwards on his cock, holding my anus tight so that I really stimulated his penis. He reciprocated by applying just enough pressure on my dick as my rocking movement pushed it in and out of the sticky tube he’d made with his fingers.

Neither of us lasted much longer. After a couple of minutes in this position Mark started groaning and declared that he was going to cum a mere split second before he stopped pumping into me at the zenith of his thrust and gave out a loud guttural roar like a wild animal at the climax of a rut. Mark didn’t thrust any more but stayed still and I felt the shivers of his orgasm as it pulsated through him, five or six spasms as he unloaded into me. By the time of his third or fourth jerk it was too much for me and I too started to ejaculate. The climax brought on by the combined stimulation of my prostate and penis was intense and I too could not prevent myself from giving out a loud animalistic cry. My first shot of spunk reached my chin, the second just below my nipples, and after that Mark closed his hand over the end and I emptied myself over his lube-sticky fingers.

When we’d both fully shot our loads Mark collapsed on top of me and we lay there exhausted for several minutes. At some point during that time I felt his cock slip out of me and a few seconds later his load dribble out of my arse and down towards my buttocks. I kissed him and he responded passionately.

“Fuck!” He whispered. “Fuck!”

“Yes, that’s what they call it, I believe!” I laughed.

We lay together for another few minutes, he rubbing his hand into the pools of spunk which covered my torso, me reaching down and rubbing lube and his semen all around my anus, under my balls and between my buttocks. Then we moved into my double ensuite shower to get cleaned up.