It was a shitty day. All day at work customers were being arseholes and now as soon as I got off the train the heavens opened and of course I didn't have an umbrella with me. The day could only get better... or so I thought. I got to my house soaking wet and reached for the keys in my pocket. Shit! I'd left them at work. I couldn't believe I was so stupid. Of course, I'd locked them in my drawer as usual and was about to take them out but my boss wanted a word before I left and I forgot. My wife had taken the girls to ballet so she wasn't going to get home any time soon. I'd have to go back into the office, wet as I was, and get my keys. "Fuck!" I didn't exactly shout but it was loud enough for my neighbour, one half of that gay couple who had moved in a few weeks ago, to hear. "Bad day?" he asked and I explained what happened.
"Do you want to come in for a cup of tea while you wait for your wife to come back?" he offered. I didn't really know them very well but it was definitely a nicer proposition than going back to the office so I gratefully accepted. Inside he looked at me literally dripping on his floor and said: "Look I don't know how you feel about this but just so you know, you'd be more than welcome to put your clothes in our dryer. I can give you something dry to put on in the meantime. You're about Patrick's size I reckon. I wasn't sure about this but he was right, I did want to get out of these clothes. He showed me to their utility room (same place as ours) and left me standing. I wasn't sure what to do but I thought I might as well make a start and took off my shirt. The hairs on my chest and belly were all wet. Martin came back with a towel, a t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms. I took off my trousers and again: all my leg hair was clinging to the skin. Martin picked up my shirt and trousers and put them in the dryer. He looked at my underwear and socks which were also wet (I'd left a trail of wet footprints all the way from the door where I'd taken off my trainers) and said: "I think they probably could do with drying as well. Could you just put them in the dryer? I'll wait outside and come back to turn it on when you're decent." That last bit was said with a smile. I did as I was told, dried myself thoroughly and put on the dry clothes. There was something slightly weird about wearing another guy's trackie bottoms on my naked skin but it would have been even weirder to be wearing his underpants I guess.
We went back into the living room where Martin again offered me a cup of tea. "Or something stronger if you prefer after the day you've had." He was right, a whiskey was an even better idea. He brought in the drinks and we started chatting about the upcoming village fete. He was very easy to talk to and I kept wondering who he reminded me off. Mid-thirties probably, slim, dark brown thinning hair though there was a reddish sheen in his stubble. And oh, crap, he had just asked me question while I was lost in thought. "Sorry, what?" He repeated: "Have you ever done it with a guy?" Crikey! Those gay guys weren't backward in coming forward! "O..once" I stuttered, "at university. My flatmate and I got home drunk from clubbing. It was just a bit of fooling around though." He laughed: "I bet, if you were both drunk and presumably tired. Was the cake even edible?" Oh my god! He'd asked about the bake off competition at the fete that we'd been drawn to do together, and which was usually mixed male/female pairs. Me and my dirty mind! I made something up about eating half of the cake and then throwing it away.
But the memory was in my head now, and I knew why: that's who Martin reminded me of -- Pete, my old flatmate. The conversation came to a bit of a lull. My balls were itching but I didn't know if it was impolite to scratch them. At that point Martin seemed to feel the same but seeing as it was his house didn't seem to be as inhibited. He reached into his pants, rummaged around and to top it off absent-mindedly smelled his fingers. That was my signal to do the same, though I kept my hand outside the pants. I hadn't thought of Pete in years but now that I'd got onto that subject, I was thinking back to that night again. It had really had been just a drunken quick fumble at the time, we both had the horn and instead of wanking alone in our own bedrooms we just did it together. No-one ever mentioned it again.
Suddenly I became very conscious that I was wearing another man's pants without underwear and that that guy -- Patrick -- may have gone commando himself on occasion. Obviously they would have been washed but there was still an uncomfortable (yet strangely thrilling) sense that his cock had been where mine was now. Mine, that to my horror now started to stir. Think unsexy thoughts! Think unsexy thoughts!' I thought to myself but as always that had the opposite effect. Without any restricting underwear it would soon become noticeable. We started to talk again, this time about bin collections. Good!' I thought, safe terrain. Not safe enough for my cock that hadn't seen any action for a few days though. My wife and I rarely have sex these days but I masturbate once or twice a day normally. For the last few days that hadn't been the case for one reason or another so now I had to try to concentrate hard on bin collections to avoid embarrassment. My cock was having none of it though and was gettting harder and harder. The tent in my pants was now impossible to ignore and Martin didn't. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone so excited about bin collections!" He laughed. Humour! Good! I laughed awkwardly as well. "Sorry, I don't know what's going on." He put me at easy by saying: "Well, we've all been there." He reached inside his pants again. This time I was sure it wasn't to scratch his balls. He was getting hard as well and had to adjust himself. The whiskey was warming me. "So do you have a way of making it go away?" I asked. He grinned: "I do but I'm not sure it's your kind of thing." I blushed: "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." And just at that moment the memory from years ago resurfaced and I wondered what might have happened if we'd continued. It wasn't just my dick that was excited, I was getting a bit horny too. At least now it was out in the open I didn't have to desperately try to hide my hard-on.
I opened up to him and said that I had been thinking of the one time I had some kind of sex with a man. I mean, it was over as soon as it began and so was my story. Nevertheless: "Well, well" he said, "Mr Straight next door. I never knew". I was curious now and started touching my cock in those pants. I tried to act casual: "Yes, I've often wondered what might have been." Not true at all but hey, he took the bait. "I could show you if you like...". My cock practically screamed: "YES! Please show me!" but I kept my cool and said: "Well, it would answer that question." Martin looked at me: "So are you serious?" I gulped and said: "Yeah, OK." He said: "Well our houses are the same, so you know where the bedroom is." By now I didn't need to be told twice. I walked up to the bedroom and waited for him to follow.
Martin reached into a drawer and pulled out a small bottle with one of those child proof caps. One thing I knew was that I wasn't going to swallow some drug that could have been anything. Martin asked: "Poppers?" When I asked what they were he explained that they would relax me more. I still wasn't keen but then he said you don't swallow them, just sniff, and he demonstrated it. I copied him and nothing happened for a couple of seconds. Then all at once my whole body felt warm and somehow I was super-horny. All I wanted was to have sex, and there was only one other person in the room. He looked at me with lusty eyes and I realised I must have looked the same. He took of his t-shirt. I somehow always imagined that gay guys shave their body hair but he was hairy all over just like me. I took off my t-shirt and while I was at it, dropped those tracksuit bottoms. My hard cock jumped out. He followed suit and we were both naked "Let's take our time." he said and asked me to lie down on the bed. "Have you ever been rimmed?" I needed him to explain again and wasn't sure if I'd heard correctly. Do people really lick each other's arses? "I thought so." he continued, "women tend to be reluctant about that." He asked me to turn around, which I did and I could feel a hand on each arse cheek. "Mmmm... see this is what a man smells like!" Martin said and took a deep breath. Next thing I knew he really was licking my crack and making his way to my hole. This was actually quite pleasant. "Have some more poppers" he said and as I did he found my hole with his tongue. I had never experienced anything like it. To think I might have died never having had this really intimate, yet ultra-horny sensation that I wanted to tell the straight world about! More! More! More! my body screamed.
But I didn't want to hog all the pleasure and part of me wanted to know how it would feel the other way round. "Can I try?" I said meekly. Martin's grin was wider than I'd ever seen. "Of course." We swapped places. Again, I was surprised at how hairy he was. There was some hair on his back and thick fur-like hair on his arse cheeks. I did what he had done to me and pulled his cheeks apart. The scent that I got was like nothing I'd ever smelt: Musty, slightly sweaty, almost sweet. It had a similar effect to the poppers earlier: it made me extra horny and if it's possible my dick got even stiffer. I did everything exactly like him, started at the base of his crack and worked my way up to his hole. What can I say, it tasted better than any meal I'd ever eaten. I could have done this forever, just trying to get my tongue in that little bit deeper. Judging by his moans I must have been doing something right. We did this for a few minutes and then he asked if he could kiss me. It hadn't even occurred to me that we hadn't done that yet. Strange as it sounds I wanted to taste my own arse after his so I agreed. He was a very good kisser. I'd only ever kissed women before so his stubble was unexpected but it was kind of nice.
Then he dropped the big question:"It's totally up to you but would you like me to fuck you?" I wasn't sure but I was never going to do this again so I thought `in for a penny, in for a pound'. He told me it would hurt the first time but I'd been brought up as a very traditional straight man so I was sure I could take a bit of pain. He went back to rimming me again which now really made me want to take his cock. Finally he got out some lube from that drawer and started to work it up my hole and on his rather big cock. He told me to take another sniff from the poppers bottle. Even though he'd warned me, nothing prepared me for the pain that felt like I was being penetrated by a sharp knife, not flesh. And yet... after a few seconds I relaxed and it felt fantastic to have him inside me. As he started to move, I was in heaven. He asked me how it felt but all I could do was give out lusty mumbles of pleasure. This was what I missed that night! I wondered if Pete ever got to experience it. If we ever met again I would need to tell him what we'd missed all those years ago.
Martin was still huffing and puffing, going in and out like a well-oiled piston. If the world had ended then and there I would have died the happiest person on the planet. I could have just done this forever, his cock felt so incredibly good inside me. But one thing that I do recognise is when someone is about to come and I could tell he wasn't far off. My cock had gone soft with the initial pain but was now rock-hard again. I started to wank myself off furiously. He told me that it would be better if he came first so I made sure to delay my orgasm. Finally he shot his load into me. I assumed it was now my turn so my hand started to work my cock again but he pushed it away gently and replaced it with his mouth. My wife has never been great at this but I never realised just how great a blowjob can feel until Martin showed me. I didn't want to cum but this was so nice that in no time I spilled my load in his mouth. To his credit he swallowed every last drop.
"Can I kiss you again?" I asked shyly. "What do you think?" he said and winked at me. It was the most passionate kiss I'd had in some time. "Your clothes will be dry now" Martin said and brought us back to the real world. Shit! I'd always been faithful to my wife in 23 years of marriage. Now I hadn't just cheated on her but cheated on her with a man! I assumed at least the secret would be safe as he wouldn't want Patrick to find out either. No such luck. "Patrick and I have an open relationship." he said, "but don't worry, I won't tell him about this. I mean we do live next door to each other and it might still be awkward." We walked down to the utility room. I stayed stark naked because what was the point of putting those clothes back on? He gave me my clothes and said: "Look, you're really hot and I would love to do this again but I understand if your curiosity has been satisfied." I attempted a joke: "It's not just my curiosity that has been satisfied." He looked at me quizzically. "Yes", I said, "I would also like to do this again. Who knew licking someone's hairy arse could feel so good?".
I saw that my wife's car was in our drive now so I made my way over there. I had a feeling this was only the beginning of something.