A MAN IN MY BED Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong robert.furlong@rocketmail.com Find my older stories at screeve.org
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I followed Bradley up the stairs, hardly able to believe that I was about to do this: I was finally going to find out what it was like to have a man in my bed.
It seemed as if I had waited for this for so long, but in reality it had just been a matter of months. Looking back, I felt as if I had had the prospect of what I was about to do lurking somewhere in my mind, whether consciously or subconsciously, since soon after the night I'd spent with Guy before the football match.
Up until that night with Guy, I'd always regarded myself as a fairly average, happily-divorced man. I had always enjoyed fantasizing about women but had never had a great deal of luck with them in the flesh – and that, of course, went double for my ex-wife Linda. I wasn't a great romantic and my performance in the bedroom, if I'm being honest, could most charitably be described as middling. However, my sexual interests, such as they were, had been unquestionably and exclusively directed towards the opposite sex.
But then, out of nowhere, I'd clumsily discovered that I had an attraction towards my own gender that I hadn't previously even suspected I might harbour. Since that night, I'd questioned just about everything which I'd previously assumed I knew about myself and had fundamentally changed my whole view of my sexuality.
But even as I followed Bradley up to my bedroom, I didn't feel that what I've been through these past few months had somehow miraculously made me become gay: that simply hadn't happened. Even though we'd unexpectedly kissed and I'd found that I'd even more unexpectedly enjoyed it, I still didn't feel any kind of urge to get into a romantic relationship with him or any other man. I still cherished the hope that things would turn out well between Debbie and me or otherwise that one day the right woman would come along.
Looking back, as I did right then, it seemed that my moment of fumbling sex with Guy had awakened within me a natural and deep-rooted need for intimacy with my own gender. It had caused me to gradually, and at times painfully, accept that sharing my bed with another man can be exciting and erotic in a totally different way from sharing it with a woman.
And now I was about to find out how.
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"What sort of stuff do you like, then, Rob?" Bradley asked when I got to the top of the stairs.
It occurred to me that we could, at this point, find out we were totally unsuited. That, perhaps, this question should have been asked when we'd first chatted outside the entrance of reception.
I smiled at him, gesturing him through to my bedroom and followed him in.
"I'd like to rim you," I said. "And maybe fuck you, if you'd like that."
"Sounds good to me," he replied, putting his glass down on the drawers and starting to unbutton his shirt. "That's the great thing about hooking up with a guy – while he's hard, he's horny, and if he's not it's time to try something different. All pretty simple, really."
I nodded, remembering that Cameron had told me something similar. Then I realised I shouldn't just be standing there staring at him, but ought to be undressing too.
"What do you want to do?" I asked him in return, undoing my own shirt buttons.
"The same, pretty much. But I'd like you to suck me off. I'll do the same for you, of course." He took off his shirt and put it onto the chair. Underneath he was wearing an olive green t-shirt with a caption on it: 'It's not a bug, it's a feature'. His chest hair bristled out from the neckline; evidently he was a very hairy man.
"I'm not too keen on it," I said, a touch apologetically. "But you can lick it, if you like."
He grinned, untying his shoelaces. "I'm happy to go with the flow, mate. Whatever you like and don't like, just let me know."
He took off his socks and I noticed the tops of his feet were surprisingly hairy; rather like a hobbit's.
"While we're on the subject, actually," he went on, pulling down his trousers and revealing the rod of his still half-erect cock bulging outwards his shorts underneath. "Which way do you think you'd prefer to be fucked? From behind, or face-to-face?"
"I'm not really sure," I said, taking off my shirt. It felt distinctly odd to be undressing with another guy like this, casually discussing the mechanics of how we were going to have sex together. "Like I said, I've never done it."
He glanced over at me after pulling off his t-shirt. "But you must have fantasized about it?"
I smiled as I unbuttoned my own trousers, marvelling at how wonderfully hairy his chest was. "I've spent about three months doing little else, actually."
He hitched his underwear down, still wet around the arsehole from where I'd licked them, and tossed them onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. Now fully naked, pale and scrawny and swathed in dense black hair, he looked magnificently blokeish. He smiled at me with his cock drooping downwards, still prominently thick but only partially-erect, and I smiled back at how plump his balls looked, straining against his hairy scrotum. He was impressively well-endowed – almost as generously equipped as I am in a similar state – and it was nice to feel that I was with someone who wouldn't be concerned about how disproportionately large I am between my legs.
He grabbed his beer from the top of the drawers, took a swig, and positioned it more conveniently on the bedside table. Then, he got onto my bed and knelt there with his back to the headboard, waiting for me. His cock flopped down between his hairy thighs, the head of it covered by his foreskin, puckered forwards like a tiny mouth
I took off my own briefs and my own cock, now largely flaccid, flopped out so he could see for the first time how well-built I am. Unlike Debbie, he didn't remark on what I had down there; he just accepted that we were similarly hung.
I took a drink from my wine, walked around to put it on the opposite bedside table, and then got onto my bed with him.
Two men naked together, readying themselves for intimacy.
I knelt in front of him, feeling distinctly self-conscious and realised I was unsure about what to do. Unlike him, I was conspicuously floppy and, in spite of the raging excitement I'd felt downstairs when I was rimming him, the unfamiliarity of the situation I was now in had all but smothered my passions. I was feeling a little cold, actually, and wished I'd had the sense to turn up the heating.
"So this is all pretty new to you, Rob?" he asked, reaching forwards to fondle me.
"Is that a problem?" I asked, as he gently stroked my cock and played with my heavy, dangling balls.
I reached towards him and did the same to his half-aroused member, mirroring his actions in my naivety about what I should do. I could feel him slowly thickening and growing harder: it was an intriguing sensation to be touching another man's shaft as he was becoming excited.
"Are you worried about it?" he asked.
"A little," I replied. "I suppose I'm concerned it might hurt if you want to fuck me."
He smiled and his cock steadily stiffened against my fingers. "We can go as slow as you like. And if you don't like the feel of it, don't hold back from letting me know. There are loads of other things we can do. I don't mind if we don't do that."
"I'd very much like to try it," I said. "I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy it."
It felt a little odd to be casually chatting like this with another man while we distractedly groped each other's genitals. My own cock wasn't stirring yet – this was all too strange for me to be able to relax – but his was lengthening quite significantly.
"I'll make you nice and wet with my tongue," he grinned.
"I'd like that," I smiled back. "I'd like that very much."
He smiled and nodded, his cock rising upwards of its own accord. "I'll lick your arse good and deep and then I'll slowly fuck you up it."
I could see why he was talking with me like this, but it just wasn't working for me: my cock remained steadfastly limp.
"So how do you think you'll like it?" he asked. "From the front, or from behind."
"Almost certainly from behind," I replied. "That position – the whole doggy thing – really does it for me. At least I like to watch guys doing it that way in porn."
He grinned. "I'm happy either way, mate. If taking it bending over is something you've fantasized about, I'll be happy to oblige."
I smiled back at him as his foreskin started to retract from his small button-shaped cock-head, his piss-slit looking short and almost circular as it eased out through the tip of it. A sharp whiff hit me from his moist, pink glans as it was slowly exposed. Unlike Debbie the previous evening, I liked the smell: it was the aroma of Bradley's developing excitement; a redolent reminder of his burgeoning maleness.
This was a man I was with and for all of my nervousness at how new this was, I was determined, if nothing else, to savour that fact.
I looked at the pair of us in the mirrored doors of the fitted wardrobes along the far wall: the two of us naked and fondling each other's cocks, face-to-face on what had been my marital bed. We looked good together: our bodies more or less the same in form but intriguingly different in their details.
"I'll be happy to bend over for you, too," he said. "So you can stick this nice big cock of yours right up my arse. Right up the arse you sniffed that day under your office desk."
He smirked at me and his erection seemed to throb upwards, pumping itself bigger and harder at the prospect of the hole behind it being filled by mine.
Before I could respond, he took his hand from my cock and looked down at its limpness, almost cowering between my thighs.
"I'm sorry," I muttered to him, feeling myself blush. "This is a little bit... well... freakish for me."
"You're nervous," he smiled. "I get that. Let's not make an issue of it."
He leaned over and grabbed my discarded briefs which had been lying crumpled on the floor next to the bed. They were a pair of white Calvin Kleins which I'd chosen specifically for tonight as I thought they showed off my bulge and made my backside look particularly appealing through my trousers.
"Let's have a look at these," he muttered, opening them out and working out which was the front. I was feeling a little uncomfortable to have him looking at my underwear so intently: what if I hadn't been as diligent in my hygiene as I thought I'd been?
He brought the saggy cup of the front gusset up to his face and inhaled deeply that day's smells from my balls, my pubes and the times I'd shaken myself at the toilet. His cock throbbed upwards, rising even higher, and the foreskin peeled right back down the shaft to reveal in full his pudgy mushroom head.
He took the briefs away and grinned at me. "That is one hell of a dick-smell, Rob."
He took another deep sniff from them and his cock stiffened further. I felt my own starting to come to life, seeing how much he was enjoying the smell of the underpants I'd been wearing. The sweat from my balls in the heat under my desk; the precum I'd oozed every time I'd been aroused.
"Jesus Christ, it's fucking hot," he smirked before inhaling from them a third time. "The raw stink of a fat horny cock and a big pair of hairy balls like yours... really gets me going... so fucking manly."
Unlike when Debbie had used the word 'manly', I could see that Bradley intended it entirely complimentarily. The way his cock was throbbing upwards expectantly towards me rather said it all.
He turned the briefs over and sniffed at the back of them. He moved the material around, trying to locate the most odoriferous spot, and then inhaled deeply from where my hole must have been. Once again, his cock very visibly expressed its appreciation.
I could feel my own organ slowly hardening: seeing him sniffing at the most private part of my underwear, and clearly enjoying it, was proving unexpectedly arousing.
He glanced at my thickening cock and grinned at me again. "Christ, Rob, your arse smells fucking amazing. I bet it tastes even better!"
He took another sniff – right where they'd ridden up and had been snuggling into my tight, puckered ring – and said, "Oh, Jesus! I can't wait to rim your hole!"
And after a third, "I want to fuck you right where I'm sniffing! I want to eat your arse and then fuck you right here – right where your stink is!"
I grinned back at him, marvelling at how crude he was being, as my cock started to rise upwards from between my legs, to join his, throbbing upwards between our stomachs.
He threw the briefs back on the floor and reached underneath my balls, groping through the hair between my cheeks with his finger outstretched. He quickly found my tight, moist hole and gently ran his fingertip around it.
"This is where I want to fuck you, Rob. Right up your hot, wet arsehole! Fast and dirty, just like you want it!"
I felt my cheeks flush with excitement as I gasped at him, "Yes! Yes, I want it!"
He slid his finger inside me and my anus consumed it hungrily. "I want to rut with you, Rob. For me to fuck you and then you to fuck me. For us to take it in turns together, over and over."
I gaped at him, "God, yeah! That sounds great!"
And then he pulled out of me and we fell back from each other, the merest trace of my anal scent wafting from his finger.
Our cocks arched upwards towards each other, similar in length and thickness, although Bradley's cock-head was smaller and rounder. We touched their tips together and then pulled them apart, watching our sticky precum make strings between them like tiny rope-bridges.
Then we smiled at each other; two men poised together on the threshold of sexual union.
He leaned back and grabbed my wine glass and passed it to me. As I was gulping the rest of my drink down, he did the same with his beer.
Our thirsts quenched, he returned both glasses to his side of the bed and then sat in front of me again so that our cocks were almost kissing.
"Right," he said with an expectant smirk. "I'll show you a trick!"
He grabbed his erection, craned his neck downwards and extended his tongue to lick at his own oozing cock-head. He grinned at me as he did so and then leaned forwards to lick mine, lapping at my sticky precum as it seeped from my slit. After contrasting my taste with his own, he went back to his own cock and fed more hungrily at his own juices.
I smiled and said, "I'll show you a trick too!" and leaned forwards and did the same, although I was able to get my lips almost completely around my cock-head. I nuzzled it with my lips, tasting my own salty precum oozing from the puckered slit.
He laughed and pulled away from his own cock, allowing me to lean over and suck the tip of it.
"I've never been with a bloke who can do this – apart from my brother Garth," he told me as I tasted his more acrid ooze. "Guys I've shown it to have usually been amazed."
I pulled back from him. "It's a bit of a party trick, but as I don't really like the sensation of being sucked, it's not something I do regularly."
He nodded. "Garth can go a step further and twist his dick around so he could get the tip of it into his own arse. There's no way I can do that, though. Can you?"
"I've never tried," I said, marvelling at the concept. "He can actually fuck himself?"
Bradley grinned. "I wouldn't quite describe it like that. The trouble is, as soon as he gets the end of it in, the shaft gets too hard and it pops out. But I've seen guys online who are flexible enough, even when they're aroused, to work up a rhythm and actually cum inside themselves."
"Wow!" I laughed. I'd have to try that for myself when I had some time to myself; I was certainly long enough to do it but, like Bradley's brother, I would probably grow too hard to keep it inside for very long. I'd have fun finding out; I wondered why such an obvious idea had never occurred to me before.
Bradley shifted his position, saying he was going to show me how he liked to suck himself when he was alone. He lay back on the bed and grabbed the backs of his thighs with his hands.
As he was manoeuvring himself, I asked him how long he'd been self-fellating like this.
"From pretty soon after I started wanking – Garth and I would sometimes do it together," he grunted, pulling his legs over the top of himself so that his cock was pointing down towards his face. "When I first started, I assumed everyone could do it."
He directed his erection towards his mouth and reached up to hungrily devour the head of it. In this position, with his back so arched, he could get the top few inches into his mouth and, unlike me, seemed to relish the sensation of being sucked, even if it was by his own mouth.
He started thrusting his cock in and out of his mouth, making loud slurping noises with his lips as it drove in and out. I watched the shaft of it throbbing and hardening in response, clearly enjoying the feel of being so ardently sucked by its owner, and his heavy balls thumped up and down, slapping against his thighs and the dry part of his shaft.
He looked up at me and, with his cock sliding in and out of his lips, managed a grin. I grinned back, marvelling at his athleticism and technique, and feeling pleased that we were already comfortable enough around one another for him to show me this.
The best aspect of the position, at least from my perspective, was that it splayed his bum-cheeks gratuitously towards me and showed off his arsehole puckering upward in its unrestrained glory. The hair around it was clumped and wet from where I'd rimmed him downstairs, and his anus itself was strikingly larger and redder than mine. This was the hole of an accomplished butt-fucker: the skin around it was stretched and puffy, and the entrance gaped open every time he pushed his cock into his mouth. I hoped, in time, mine would look so conspicuously well-used so that any guy who happened to see me naked would quickly recognise, and hopefully exploit, the fact that my sexual interests weren't confined to women.
As I looked at his swollen and dilated arsehole, I wondered why Bradley's girlfriend didn't suspect his extra-curricular activities with his own gender. Surely she would see, every time he bent down to pull on his underwear when he was getting dressed, that his pucker had been quite prominently enlarged and enjoyed by a long succession of thrusting cocks. Maybe she thinks all guys sport buttholes which have thick, reddened rings around them and that it's normal for a guy's hole to be stretched open to a girth which is curiously the same size as the shafts of other men's erections.
"Your arsehole is beautiful," I told him as he sucked furiously at his own length as it drove back and forth with a steadily quickening rhythm. His face creased in another smile as the thick shaft of his cock thrust with increasing force and depth in and out of his outstretched lips. His eyes held mine for a second as I smiled back at him, fascinated to watch how he was becoming carried away in showing off his talent to me.
His whole curved body was a writhing mass of movement, pulsating to the beat of his mouth being roughly and uncompromisingly fucked by his own engorged length His cheeks were becoming flushed, his forehead moist, and his inflated arsehole was clenching and unclenching in steady surges. And still his cock plunged back and forth, ceaselessly and unremittingly pleasuring itself like the body of a snake being consumed over and over by its own mouth.
I licked my finger and reached forwards to run it around the bloated and puckering ring of his anus and he moaned encouragingly, clearly wanting me to do more.
I stroked his balls with my other hand, steadying them as his spit-slick shaft slammed in and out of his mouth, and gently pressed the tip of my middle finger into his easily yielding hole. It swallowed me voraciously, his muscles squeezing me in spasms, and I plunged it right into his hot sticky tunnel, right up to the knuckle.
"Mmm," he moaned again, through the mechanical pounding of his own tireless cock, revelling in its self-pleasure. "Mmm..."
I withdrew my finger a couple of inches, and then pushed it back in; repeating the movement over and over and quickening my pace. His eyes told me how much he was enjoying the sensation of being anally fingered while he was gorging on his cock, his mouth too full being frantically fucked for him to speak.
I pulled my finger out of him and bent over to sniff in front of his face so he could see me. It was heavy with the crude, animalistic bite of his arse and I smiled at him as I appreciated it fully, licking it from fingernail to knuckle, as his cock pumped so fast its motion was piston-like back and forth from his lips.
Then I leaned down and tasted him properly, applying my lips around his convulsing hole and pushing my tongue into him. His taste was exquisite: so much stronger and more potent because of how splayed his cheeks were and how close I could get to him. I worked my tongue deep into his clasping rectum, sucking at his backside as vigorously and noisily as he was sucking on the jackhammer pounding of his own thrusting organ.
I pulled away from him and looked at his face, his eyes wide and his mouth being brutally assaulted by the frantic blur that was his cock.
I said, "I want to fuck you like this, Bradley."
I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but somehow I was determined to squat over him and work my painfully hard cock into his throbbing arsehole.
At first he grinned at me eagerly, seemingly desperate to have me mount him like that, but then his smile abruptly vanished and his eyes widened as if in shock and I wondered how I might have offended him.
His cock kept thrusting, uncontrollably slamming in and out of his mouth, the thickened shaft looking slick and wet and curiously streaked in goo. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to swallow what he was producing and then, like a pan of milk boiling over, his mouth overflowed with a bubbling deluge of foamy white torrents. He kept staring at me, wide-eyed, and I realised I was looking at the frothy mass of Bradley's erupting semen: a load so plentiful that what he couldn't swallow his hammering cock was churning up in his mouth into an abundant white lather.
I could hardly believe he'd allowed himself to reach orgasm. I was fascinated by what I was seeing – how his cock was frantically self-pollinating his own gaping mouth with the ceaseless outpouring of his own thick white seed, and how his climax was so abundant it was trickling down his cheeks and chin like the lava from a volcanic eruption – but I was disappointed that this might represent the end of our sex.
Bradley's eyes remained fixed on mine, gawping at me in shock, as his balls spasmed in rapid contractions and his arsehole heaved between gaping open and clamping itself tightly shut. Still his cock kept driving in and out, its throbbing stem by now streaked with the thick white froth of his semen while messy, glutinous gobs splattered with each thrust onto his cheeks and chin and dribbled down his neck.
Finally, the bobbing of his Adam's apple slowed as his orgasm subsided, as did the movement of the swollen shaft of his self-gratified organ. In time, he withdrew it from his mouth, still oozing his fluid which was a much starker white colour than mine, and I reached down and angled his cock towards me so I could lick some of his seed as it seeped from his slit.
It tasted strongly alkaline – like soda water but rather more bitter – and I smiled at him as I lapped the dribbles from his cock-head. He directed his shaft back to his own mouth and drank some more of the ooze for himself, and then pushed it back towards me so that we could both feed on it at the same time. When his balls were empty and the pumping flow of his semen had dried up, he turned to kiss me and I probed his mouth with my tongue, eager to taste inside it the frothy, acrid remnants of his own climax.
Once his cock was starting to lose its stiffness, he disentangled himself from the position he'd been in and we sat back against the headboard together. He wiped himself down using my box of bedside tissues as he caught his breath.
"I'm sorry it went off like that, Rob," he said eventually.
I smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad the prospect of me fucking you had such a profound effect."
He smiled back at me, clearly appreciating the conciliatory approach I was taking.
I was actually feeling quite peeved: I was still rock hard and here was my first real male lover sitting alongside me, spent. I'd been hoping to get a taste of male-on-male anal sex in at least one of its variants, or at the very least get deeply rimmed by him, before the night was out.
"I normally know when I'm going to cum and can hold it off," he went on, "but this one just crept up on me out of the blue. One second I was getting ready for you to get on top of me, the next... well... it was like I was churning butter."
"I've never seen semen froth up like that before," I said.
"Neither have I," he admitted with a grin.
I got up from the bed. "Tell you what – I'll pour us both another couple of drinks."
I took our glasses back down the kitchen and refilled them from the fridge. It felt wonderfully decadent to be walking around naked and aroused in the house. Once Jake went off to university next September, I could do this every night if I so desired. I was sure the novelty would quickly wear off.
We lay chatting on the bed for a while, drinking our wine and beer, and I was surprised at how nice it felt to be like that with him: just lying next to each other naked, his cock floppy and mine still semi-hard, talking and laughing and having so few reservations around one another.
When he'd finished his beer, I suggested that we turn in.
He looked surprised. "But you didn't have your turn."
I shrugged. "I'm not inconsiderate enough to insist on having a turn, Bradley. I know that you're probably not feeling at all horny now."
He grinned. "Once we get going, mate, I'll soon be well up for it. I can still manage more than once a night if I'm in the right mood."
"Well, so can I," I agreed, my cock quickly hardening again at the prospect of some action. I had been expecting to have to attend to it in the bathroom once Bradley was asleep.
He got up from where he was lying against the headboard and went to his trousers where he fished out a sachet of a clear liquid from the pocket. He applied it to his backside and then got onto all fours in the middle of the bed.
"You like it doggy style, then, Rob?" he grinned.
"I think so," I replied, getting up. "I've never actually done it, remember."
"Well, let's find out," he teased, wiggling his bum towards me, the lower part of his cleft daubed with gobs of the gooey liquid he'd used to smooth my passage.
I reached into the drawer of my bedside cabinet and pulled out a box of condoms.
"U size," he laughed when he saw them. "I use those too! Bloody difficult to find, though."
I quickly rolled a condom down my cock and shuffled up behind Bradley on my knees.
"Are you sure you want me to do this?" I asked. "I don't mind... you know... waiting 'til next time."
I suddenly worried that suggesting a second 'date' might not be considered de rigeur and added, almost babbling in my haste, "I mean... you know... if you want to do this again... I'm not suggesting that we should..."
Bradley turned back to me and smiled. "I'm happy for second go if you are, mate. Maybe if Garth's around for one weekend, the three of us could get together. He could show you his little 'trick'!"
I grinned at him. "Wow! That'd be... well... yeah!"
He pushed his bum towards me. "Come on then, Rob. I mean, I don't want to rush you, but if you wait much longer, it's going to start healing up!"
I looked at his butt-crack thinking it would take rather a long time for that vast hole to heal up. I repeated my hope that one day mine would look so temptingly accommodating to other, horny men.
I shuffled forwards again and, guiding my shaft with one hand, eased the first few inches of my cock into his rectum.
Bradley called out, "God yeah! That feels fucking massive!"
And I pushed myself another couple of inches into him.
His passage felt wonderfully hot and tight around my organ. It was slick from my spit and from the liquid he'd put into himself and my cock slid in more easily than I'd thought.
"That's it!" he called out, gasping with pleasure. "Ease it right in! All the way!"
I grabbed his hips and pushed myself another few inches home.
"Jesus Christ!" he shouted. "How fucking big are you?"
"I don't know," I admitted, holding onto him with my cock about two thirds of the way inside him. "I never actually measured it."
"Feels like fucking ten inches already! It's easily the biggest cock I've taken!"
"Sorry," I muttered. "I'll stop there, if you want."
"No!" he cried out. "I love it! Keep going! Push it right in!"
I started sliding the rest of my cock into him, feeling like the head of it must be nearly touching his liver.
"Fucking Jesus!" he gasped, sounding like he might either be in agony or ecstasy, and my pubes finally nuzzled against his buttocks and my balls touched the tops of his thighs.
"It's in," I announced.
"D'you reckon?" he gasped, with just the faintest hint of sarcasm.
I looked at the two of us in the mirror opposite: two men joined together, hips against buttocks. Here I was, finally, with another man in front of me with his arse impaled on my very eager erection. We looked good together: like the natural culmination of everything I'd been through.
Bradley turned to the mirror and saw us for himself. He admired the shape our bodies were making – him bending forwards with me upright and kneeling behind – and smiled at me.
"How do you feel?" he asked. "Seeing yourself like this..."
"Rather wonderful," I replied, smiling back. "I should have done this years ago."
He chuckled and pushed himself up, so that we were kneeling together. I was surprised to see his erection rise upwards from between his legs: he was already aroused again just from the feel of having my large organ throbbing inside him.
I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the feel of his thick, luxuriant chest hair and grabbing him more closely towards me. I nuzzled into the back of his head, smelling his shampoo and the musky whiff of the sweat on his neck and back, and tongued at his ear.
He giggled and said it felt nice and I reached down and gently played with his erection, curving upwards above his large, hairy balls. I nibbled his earlobe, teasing his cock with my fingers, enjoying the feel of my own, similarly aroused and similarly curved as it bore upwards inside him.
I gently bit the top of his ear and he gasped in pleasure. "That's lovely, Rob. Really hot..."
I looked at us in the mirror again, marvelling at the unseen congruence of our two cocks: his exposed and gently pulsating in my fingers, mine with an almost identical shape just inches behind it but being kneaded and squeezed by his grateful bowels.
I was connected to another man, our bodies locked together by the throbbing rod of my excitement clamped tightly by the hot, slimy muscles of his arse. We looked, quite frankly, spectacular together and I suddenly wanted other men to know – Jake, even – how amazing this felt. I wanted all the males I knew to know how intensely erotic this was, my son included: to find out how incredible was this sensation of being bonded together with a fellow man and how natural was this union of same-sex penetration.
Still watching us in the mirror, I withdrew my cock slowly from between his cheeks until only the head was still inside him, and then, holding firmly only his hips, slid it back into him more rapidly.
"Jesus, fuck!" he called out as I filled him back up with it, and then he turned to me over his shoulder and we kissed again with my organ buried deep inside him.
This time I was the more dominant of the two of us: it was my turn to work my tongue into his mouth, pushing his aside and driving deep into his throat. I kissed him urgently and passionately, wrapping my arms around him again and grabbing his body towards me, tasting the dregs of his own semen in his mouth and letting him enjoy the taste of his own arse in mine.
Then he pulled away from me and we stared again into the mirror. I couldn't believe that, just hours ago, I didn't even know that Bradley enjoyed sex with men and now, here he was on my bed and with my cock buried deep between his hairy, round arse-cheeks.
"Do you miss not having a woman?" he asked, smiling at me through the mirror.
I laughed. "To be honest, Bradley, I haven't actually thought about a woman the whole time we've been together."
It was true. And perhaps more than a little ironic given the places my thoughts had strayed to when I was with Debbie.
"That's good," he smiled. "Great. Now come on, mate. Fuck me!"
I pushed his back down towards the bed so that he was bending over again. Then I grabbed his hips and started buggering him; my first taste of fucking another man.
The sensation was largely as I had expected: his hole was tighter than a woman's and his bowels felt hotter than her vagina, but the feel of penetrating a male was not dissimilar to doing the same to a female.
The smell of our sex, though, was what really excited me. It was totally different from the smell of being intimate with a woman: it was harsh and pungent like rimming him but steadily increasing in intensity the more I drove in and out of him. It was the scent of his backside, growing stronger and more recognizable with the quickening pace of my thrusts: not crude or unpleasant, just a thickening odour of our unrefined same-sex intercourse; ripe with sweat and musk, and with the unique smack of Bradley's rectum, streaking greasily along my pumping shaft.
At the same time, I was also hugely turned on by the fact that this was a man's arse I was humping; that it was hairy and muscular and that there were two church-bell balls swinging around underneath it. I loved the fact that my thrusting cock, ramming in and out of him so beautifully between the paired globes of his cheeks, was making him gasp with excitement and that his hard-on was curving upwards in front of him, swaying back and forth to the beat of my hips.
I reached round in front of him and grabbed at his erection, roughly wanking his foreskin back and forth as I fucked him faster and faster. I looked over at him through the mirror again and we grinned at each other: two men revelling in connecting two organs which weren't, strictly speaking, designed to fit together but which made a very successful coupling nonetheless.
He called out, "Fuck me, Rob! Fuck me harder!"
I grabbed him firmly by both shoulders so I could slam in and out of him, my hips making loud slapping noises as they pummelled his arse-cheeks. We were rutting like a couple of horny squaddies – 'bumming' in Jake's crude parlance – and, God, did it feel good!
I could never have imagined, that day he'd been on all fours under my desk to fix my printer, what would soon be taking place between the two of us men. As I'd admired his bum that day through his black work trousers, I would never have dreamt that I would soon be enjoying my first taste of male-to-male sex with that very arse; that in just a matter of months I'd be holding onto this bloke's shoulders while I pounded his enticing backside with the same erection that had proven so problematic as I'd crouched behind him.
As my rhythm was quickening, Bradley reached underneath himself and grabbed at my balls.
"Stay still for a minute," he commanded.
I stopped thrusting my hips and he used his firm grip on my balls to slide my cock in and out of himself, like he might with a dildo. I moved back from him, letting him use my cock to pleasure himself and enjoying the feel of his tight grip ramming it with a quickening rhythm in and out of his stretched, gaping hole.
"Oh Jesus, that's fucking hot!" he cried out, and I wondered if he was used to using a rubber cock on himself, well-hidden from his girlfriend of course, when he masturbated alone.
He looked over his shoulder, back up at me, grinning with surprise at how much excitement he was getting from pounding his own arsehole with my thickened shaft. I put my hands on my hips and let him enjoy his own rapid pumping action, gasping and grunting as he hammered my cock in and out of himself, revelling in his own distinct take on anal masturbation.
"Your cock is so big!" he told me, breathlessly. "It's fucking amazing!"
And then, perhaps fearing that I wasn't as aroused as he was by having my cock used like a sex toy, he said, "Come on, then, Rob. Fuck me again! Fuck me up the arse!"
With his hand still gripping my balls, I grabbed his hips again and started slamming my cock in and out of his hole.
He looked up at me and grinned again. "Fucking give it to me!"
As I did so, he moved his hand backward from my balls, along the hairy ridge behind them and found my own moist hole to finger it quickly. His fingers made wet slurping noises as he thrust them in and out of me, the fucker simultaneously becoming the fucked in a tantalising feat of circularity.
As he jabbed his hand in and out of me more strenuously and more deeply, my own anal smell wafted up to join his, the two combining to fill the air around us: intensely erotic and powerfully masculine.
He pushed himself upright so that his back was against my chest and grabbed his cock from me so he could wank it himself.
I craned my neck around him, twisting myself so that my face was level with his stomach and he directed his cock towards me so that I could suck at its tip while I fucked him. With most men it would have been difficult if not impossible, but Bradley's cock was long enough for me to get the top of its head between my lips while my own kept up its rhythm slamming in and out of his arse.
Bradley moaned in what sounded like both surprise and appreciation and wanked himself as fast as he could as I sucked his precum from his slit. I found it fascinating that I could pleasure him both anally and orally at the same time, while I was, with his fingers reaching underneath my heavily bobbing balls, being frantically penetrated by him.
As I was marvelling at the sheer versatility of the male body, he called out, "Christ, Rob, I'm getting close! I'm gonna cum!"
As much as I wanted to taste his semen pulsing into my mouth, I was more desperate to climax inside him. I pulled away from his cock, having managed to suckle on about an inch of it, and pushed him back down onto all fours. His fingers slid out of me with a loud, rasping fart, and I grabbed him roughly by the shoulders again. Squatting behind him, I started slamming in and out of him as quickly and as roughly as I could, making long arching sweeps using the full length of my organ and feeling my heavy balls slamming against his with every powerful thrust.
He cried out, "Jesus, yeah!" and I heard the splashes of his climax falling onto the duvet.
My own orgasm was seconds behind his, filling the end of the condom so copiously that my cock-head was bathing in my own seed, as I thrust it over and over deep up inside his bowels. Still shuddering, I stared at myself in the mirror, marvelling at myself having my first climax with my cock bucking in and out of another man's backside. We were both covered in sweat and I looked strangely pale, my hair sticking to my forehead like I'd been out in a thunderstorm.
He pulled away from me with a moist-sounding fart of his own and struggled off the bed to wipe himself down. As he mopped up the dribbles of his semen with tissues, still panting for breath, he grinned at me.
"Fucking hell, Rob. That was fantastic! I can't believe it was your first time."
I smiled, peeling the condom carefully from my cock so as not to spill the bounteous load which was making the end of it look like a plump, white drumstick.
Catching my own breath, I muttered, "I must be a natural, I guess."
"Too fucking right, mate," he laughed. "Christ, my arse feels like a hippo's yawn."
I chuckled, getting off the bed with the swollen condom. "Well, I'll return the favour next time. I'd like to see what it feels like to receive."
Bradley smiled. "That's fine by me. I'm happy either way, to be honest."
"You don't have a preference?"
He shrugged. "Not really. I suppose I like taking it because I can't do that with my girlfriend. But, then, I like the feel of giving it too. So either way is fine."
We looked at each other for a few seconds, both with our cocks still prominently stiffened; him with a wodge of tissues wet with own spilled semen, me with an oversized condom bulging like a water balloon.
What did two men do in this situation? Shake hands?
Of course we didn't: instead he followed me through to the bathroom and I emptied the condom into the toilet (my poor sperms; yet another misfortune befalling them). After I'd flushed all our mess away, I buried the condom in the bin, concealing it inside a discarded soap wrapper to avoid Jake stumbling across it.
I rummaged around in the cupboard and found Bradley a new toothbrush for him to use. I'd keep it to one side, for next time he came to stay. One for me, one for Jake and now one for Bradley. And maybe one for Debbie too if she wanted to come and stay over one night.
We got into bed naked together and, bizarrely, out of everything we'd done that felt the most odd. I'd never got into a double bed with another man – and certainly not with the two of us naked and with still semi-aroused organs – and, in spite of how explicitly intimate we'd just been together, it felt quite strange to be doing so now.
"When you stay over with other guys," I asked, "do you normally sleep together? In the same bed, I mean."
He shrugged. "Pretty much. Why? Do you want me to go to the spare room or something?"
"Of course not," I laughed. But maybe I did. "It just seems... well... a little bit gay, I suppose."
He found that very funny. "You had no bones about fucking me up the arse, Rob, and now you're getting funny about us sharing a bed...?"
"I know," I smiled. "It's ridiculous. But it just feels... well... a bit odd, I suppose."
It felt slightly like we were Morecombe and Wise, except we weren't wearing pyjamas.
"I honestly don't mind kipping elsewhere, mate. If it's an issue for you."
"Forget it," I said, smiling and reaching over towards the bedside light. "It's just me being stupid."
He leaned over to kiss me. "Goodnight, dear."
I chuckled. "Goodnight, darling."
And I turned off the light so we could sleep.
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Next and penultimate story: Taking It All In
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