I woke up after a small wave slapped against the side of the boat's hull. As the last remnants of my sleep ebbed away, the intense emotions of the last few hours flooded back. Overwhelmed, I simply lay, looking up through the open fore hatch at the faint whisper of clouds as they rocked back and forth, and relished the caress of the gentle breeze on my naked body.
Looking down, I noticed the shining evidence of our love making lay tangled in the cropped hairs of my groin, trailed a course over my stomach and fading to oblivion somewhere on my chest. I felt small, barely perceptible, rivulets that flowed down the valley of my inner thigh and now teased my behind. I wasn't sure whether Simon had fucked me, but such concerns were academic now. I had cheated. WE had cheated.
I tried to beat down the guilt. At 36, I've been an attorney for six odd years, and it amazes me at how easily I can form an argument of justification: -- I had no intention of leaving my wife and family. Our relationship was stronger than ever. Simon was in entirely the same boat. [I smiled inwardly at the pun]. Other than this, we were both monogamous, clean and disease free. We weren't purring others at risk. This was a part of who we were and life only came by once. Was it so wrong to deny a part of your sexual self? -- The argument was bullshit, of course, and for a moment I really didn't like myself.
I, worked for a firm, and I guess I felt a little in awe of Simon. He had his own legal practice. He also had politically aspirations and played an active role in his town and on local boards. I, on the other hand, did not. That said, however, Simon never once made me feel the lesser, other than occasionally chiding that I worked too hard.
After a while, I pulled myself up, slid out of the forecabin and walked through the boat. I was nervous to see him. Climbing the companionway I saw him laid out on the port lazerette reading a book, his head propped on a cushion against the bulkhead. Somewhat pathetically and instinctively, I tried briefly tried to suck in my stomach and puff out my chest. I failed miserably at both.
Simon sat up, but did not try and hide his nudity. I took a seat on the opposite lazerette and took in all of his body. The curves, the muscular angles, the strength and masculinity, and thought to myself how lucky Simon's wife was to be able to wrap herself in the comfort of that body each night.
I continued to look at Simon and then, attempting to be flippant and cute at the same time, summed up the last few hours with an understated "wow".
"Wow indeed" Simon smiled back.
Instantly I released a torrent of babble about "guilt", "excitement", "feeling right", "love", "deception", "paranoia" and "excitement"...
Simon looking comically stern and paternal at the same time, swiftly swung his legs around and turned to face me. His strong legs were now either side of me.
I registered something Simon said about "being OK...same way...." but lost the rest after his flawless foot grazed mine. I felt childish and small as that simple contact caused electricity to course through my body with an intensity that made me feel dizzy.
Without thought or direction I watched, detached, as my left hand dropped to Simon's knee and started an upwards journey, mapping the taut contours of his muscles. I moved Simon's legs further apart and then, with my fingers spread wide, placed my right hand on his chest and gently pushed, motioning him to return to the position in which I had found him.
Simon lay down, draping one leg over the edge of the boat and the other into the cockpit. I moved myself towards the stern of the boat and lay, somewhat uncomfortably, on my chest. My head fell towards Simon's gorgeously flaccid cock. It lay pointing towards his feet and I kissed the smooth skin, raining kisses along the length of the curve before landing amongst his tight musky curls. I kissed down the edge of the triangle until I reached the ridges and valleys of his tight balls. Driven, I continued down and across until Simon's masculinity lay on either side of my nose. I planted a kiss on the smooth skin that lay between, the balls and his ass. I wondered if his wife knew the incredible value that this small patch of sexual real estate held. My tongue snaked daringly south before I began to rise, trailing kiss after kiss as I followed the line of his tight sac. Blood began to course into Simons shaft and he rose in a slow majestic movement.
I kissed along the underside and then slid my mouth easily over the dark head. I swirled my tongue and squeezed a tiny drop of pre-cum from his slit using the very tip of my tongue. The intense explosion of flavor that came from it caused bizarre thoughts of Chinese food and MSG to tickertape through my mind.
Simons groan shocked me back to reality and I vowed to concentrate.
He was now iron hard, but despite this his cock seemed to ripple and pulse with life. It felt like ever inch of his flesh, ever cell, was shouting to my very soul. Occasionally I would look up over the tight stomach and rippled abdomen to watch his face. He was oblivious, with eyes closed, lips drawn back and mouth slightly open.
I remember thinking that he looked serene and elegant. His chiseled features and serious nature were gone. He looked, quite simply - real.
My aim was to make Simon cum. Nothing else existed. The Coast Guard could pull up alongside with my wife, friends and work colleagues as the boarding party, but I would not be able to stop.
What I didn't realize is just how quickly I would manage to achieve that goal. His body tightened, his balls rushed inside and he opened his eyes wide. He looked scared and I felt incredibly close to him, wanting to console him and stroke his head. I briefly wondered if I was in love with him. But right now I was something else. Right now I was a cocksucker and I remained in place.
His warmth poured into my mouth, swirled over my tongue, and cascaded over my teeth. In this moment, he was mine. We existed as a single sexual body. I came too.
As Simon began to fade, I gently sucked. He was sensitive but I wanted all of him. Every ounce of his salty essence.
My head lay on his thigh and I eventually let him go. I had just witnessed the most erotic moment of my life.
But this was to be short lived. Later, as I swam in the warm clear waters, He swam over to me, touched me and looked into my eyes.
"Lets go".
I swam after him and watched his beautiful ass from below as he climbed the ladder. Nearing the top, he turned, and reached out his hand, his body profiled against the blue sky and he said words that changed me:
"Peter... please fuck me".