My New Friend Craig

Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com

Gay--Adult Friends

My New Friend Craig, Part 1

All in all, it was strange that Craig and I ever became friends. We hadn't been boyhood playmates, college buddies, neighbors or co-workers... any of the usual ways that guys meet and bond. Temperamentally, we were pretty much complete opposites. And pretty much our whole life trajectories had been different. But for all that, a random party brought us together and launched our improbable friendship.

But I've gotten ahead of myself. I'm Andy. I've got a decent build, with dirty blond hair that covers my head, chest and all the usual guy spots. I'd say I'm good looking, and haven't had a hard time attracting the ladies. Generally professional in look, but a T-shirt and jeans guy at heart. I'd also have to say I'm more of an introvert. That doesn't mean I'm shy, and I'm definitely not a full-blown loner; rather, I'm perfectly fine being left to my own devices. I'm happy to have my own place and live alone. I can be kind of quiet, particularly at first... but for all that, I'm known for warm friendliness, plus having a wildly offbeat sense of humor.

I had just turned 30, and was starting a new phase of my life. I had started to finally settle down into respectability, but had taken a long way around. I was intensely curious about the world, and had both traveled and lived abroad for a time while I had figured out my life. Along the way I had had a number of wacky adventures--the kind that served as fodder for all kinds of bar stories. But at last I finished up a master's degree and secured a job in the Midwest city I had grown up. I've had a long-standing, low-grade relationship with a girl named Carrie. We had finally veered into "official relationship" territory a few months ago, and overall things were going great. I felt like I was coming into my own, on track to becoming a stable, secure adult in charge of my own destiny.

Of course, "destiny" can sometimes throw you a curveball.

It all began when my girlfriend and I were invited to a party--a "Fajita Fiesta" thrown by an old college friend Laura and her husband. As was often the case, I was specifically put in charge of making margaritas for the evening--I had learned how to make the real Mexican cocktail at a favorite cantina in Mexico, which is nothing like the slushy foo-foo drinks served on this side of the border. They were real, and had a real bite to them, which made them particular, if notorious favorites among my circle of friends. I dutifully brought in the makings to lubricate the crowd.

I should say that Laura and I were like brother and sister, and at times we had laughed that there had never been anything between us. In truth, we had never had a chance, as neither of us had been single at the same time. And after many travel disasters from back when (seriously... do not go camping with the two of us... ever), we were just two very good friends who had zero secrets from each other. I was happy when she married her husband Jake, and happier still when they welcomed their toddler son.

While Laura and I went back quite a ways, I actually didn't know many people there at the party that night; most of the party goers were friends of a much more recent vintage, along with several members of her husband Jake's crew. Craig was one of the later--a college buddy of Jake's who remained a good friend. He was there with his wife. Laura, seeing me kind of standing around, brought him over and introduced us.

Both Craig and his wife looked like they had come straight from Central Casting, but Craig was particularly good looking. The textbook definition of "masculine." And it was an easy, casual masculinity that was all the more interesting because it was... authentic. Most "hot guys" seem to be artificially toned, shaved, sculpted, oiled, and primped so extensively it's like they are the Photoshop version of themselves. Not Craig. His build came naturally from hard work, which was still evident even though he was fully dressed. His features, if not exactly chiseled, were strong and masculine without being hard. His scruffed jaw felt more "lived in," and less a fashion statement. His light brown hair somewhat softened his look, making him seem younger than the 30 or so I gathered him to be. His wife was a lucky girl.

Laura brought us together and exclaimed to me, "Andy! This is great. I want you to meet Craig--he and his wife Shannon are a couple of my best friends!" Craig and I shook hands. He had a firm grip that was electric with old-school, friendly masculinity. She turned to him, "Craig, this is the guy I always talk about... the one with all the disaster stories. Andy's life is... colorful. Oh! And Craig, make Andy tell you the stories about when he used to sell sex toys over the phone. Those stories are the best."

Craig looked at me with a look of utter astonishment. "You... you sold sex toys over the phone?"

I gave Laura a sidelong glance and said, "Yeah... and it's not a party unless someone asks me to retell those blessed stories. Sorry if you're weirded out in the first 10 seconds of meeting me."

Craig started laughing in big, gusting bursts before saying "Oh no, man... you are my god! Tell me everything!" The funny thing is that I've found most guys seem to have the same reaction that Craig did....

My girlfriend rolled her eyes at this and said, "Oh no. I've heard these stories all a hundred times. I'm going to mingle." She turned to Craig's wife and said, "Shall we leave the boys to their fun?" Laughing, the ladies beat a hasty retreat.

I soon began regaling Craig with all my best-loved tales, including times I was on the phone when clients were actually using the products. Or the cringe-worthy attempts of clients trying to return items that didn't quite serve their intended purpose. And of course, the time I found myself counseling a caller on how to correctly douche his blow-up doll. Craig roared with gales of laughter, at one point doubled over and in tears, and all the while slapping my shoulder companionly as if we were very old friends and not brand-new acquaintances.

At one point, with eyes sparkling he declared, "Sir, I salute you. In any other circumstances, your drinks would be on me!"

I laughed with him, and gave an exaggerated bow. "I live to serve, my lord. The fact is, I'm essentially the bartender for the evening, so allow me to do the honors." I poured off one of my famed margaritas and handed it to him. We clicked cups, and with a good-natured "Cheers!" took a drink.

"Holy shit," Craig immediately blurted out. "Did you make this? This is the best fucking margarita I've ever had. Excuse my French."

"No offense taken," I said as I bowed again. "Yeah, like my sex toy stories, this is another one of my most requested party tricks. I make them the real way... so tread carefully. It's essentially tequila, Cointreau and a splash of fresh-squeezed lime to tie them together. No mixers, no fillers, pretty much just booze. I learned it when I was in Mexico."

Craig's ears perked up when I said this. He was fascinated about my travel stories, admitting that he had never left the country. While I was out there finding myself and later running through the grad school treadmill, Craig's life had followed a very different track. He had worked a variety of construction jobs, before working in landscaping. After he and his wife had twin girls, he had tried to find something more "respectable" and moved into real estate, where he was working now. But he lived his life with gusto, collecting an impressive collection of stories himself.

We fell into an easy rapport. As introverted as I may have been, Craig was explosively extroverted, who just radiated a sense of good will and hospitality, even if it wasn't his party. We just connected, as if there was no one else in the room. I think we both appreciated having a conversation where we both saw each other as our best selves. He envied my wandering, I envied his security.

And as we talked--and talked, and talked, and talked--I realized that he had fallen into a perfect career to match his personality. He must have made a formidable salesman... I swear that silver-tongued devil could have sweet talked his way into a seat on Air Force One. And he could listen. I found myself opening up about things I would never usually share, especially with a guy I had just met.

In the end, we ended up having one of the most animated, most enjoyable conversations I had had in years.

Eventually we broke apart as the party swirled around us, and I was asked to make more drinks and refill folk's glasses. But somehow, we kept running into each other and falling back into our conversation. Inwardly I was quite pleased... it's hard for adult men to make new friends at the best of times, but as an introvert I found it particularly challenging. Craig felt... comfortable, and I was enjoying myself immensely.

I gather that Craig thought the same. I was surprised a few days later to get a message from him--apparently he got my contact info from Laura and Jake. He had remembered that I was still newish in town and building up my social circle. He was hosting a group of guys for poker night... any interest in joining them? I carefully waited an appropriate amount of time to respond so I wouldn't come off as desperate for human company, but absolutely agreed to join him for a poker game he was hosting.

The game went well, and I was pleased both that I didn't lose my shirt, and that I didn't make a killing. The guys were a bit rough around the edges and gave me a bit of grief about being "bookish," but it was all in good fun and I was able to hold my own nicely. Overall, it was a great night, and I snagged additional invitations and joined them again.

Craig and I stayed in touch pretty regularly after that, and I found myself... it's strange, but I don't know quite how to put it. I really warmed to his friendship, and in fact found myself really looking forward to his messages. Outside my girlfriend, he became the person whose opinion I most cared about. He lived on the other side of town, and with two toddler girls didn't have much time to meet, but we stayed in regular communication... and I looked forward to having a chance to hang out again in person.

And one day, such a chance presented itself. Craig called me at work and noted that he would be in my neck of the woods that evening showing a commercial property. He had no great desire to try and make it back home through rush hour traffic, so maybe we could grab a beer after work? I responded with what I hoped was breezy casualness, even though for some reason I think my pulse quickened. I'd be happy to! Inwardly, I was cringing... this was broadly a terrible night to get together, as I was in the middle of a nasty project at work and it was distinctly possible I would have to put in some extra time. But I wanted to make this work. So I countered with a slightly later time than he proposed. I also noted that one of my favorite neighborhood watering holes was just a couple of blocks from my apartment. Parking was crazy, and he'd be better off parking in a guest spot at my apartment, and we would walk over on foot. He thought that sounded great.

I was, sadly, dead right about how my project was going, and realized I was running late. I was able to call him and stall, telling him I'd be about 15 minutes late. He agreed to hold tight.

Even so, I was later than that when I finally arrived. And even then I wasn't done. After abjectly apologizing for my tardiness, I asked, "Say... this sucks, but I'm going to have to review and send back one last thing. Do you mind if we go up to my apartment? I can log on and hopefully take care of it in like 5-10 minutes. I'll happily let you sample some of my special, premium rum I brought back from Central America to get you started... I usually don't pull that out unless you're getting married or you lose a family member!"

Craig chuckled good-naturedly. "Sounds good, take your time."

We went up and I ceremoniously poured him a drink. He gave it a chef's kiss and remarked, "Man... this is the good stuff!" I laughed and warned him against drinking the whole bottle while my back was turned. I quickly fired up my computer and took care of business, which took a bit longer than I hoped, but finally was done.

I wandered back to him and said, "I'm so sorry... this has just been a shit show. But I'm done. We could still head out... or I'm happy to pour you another and we could hang out here."

Craig smiled warmly and responded, "No problem whatsoever, I know this was last minute and all. Hey, I mean... I'm happy here if you just want to kick back. I think you need some help with that rum. And whatever else you've got stockpiled." I laughed, and grabbed a glass, filled us both up and suggested we plop down on the couch.

Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and seamlessly between us, covering a huge range of topics. We commiserated, busted each other's balls, dreamed out loud, and solved several of the world's problems... all with the help of my best booze.

As it often goes, put a couple of guys together, and somehow the topic of sex comes up. Mostly, the unending lament that we're not getting enough of it. We bantered back and forth for some time, before Craig offered up, "Yeah, well enjoy your time now. Once you walk down the aisle, you'll never get a blow job again. I think it's part of the Official Wife Contract."

I ribbed him just a little. "You can't tell me that a great looking guy like you isn't getting anything like that... I mean, is she nuts?"

"Andy my man, I am lucky to get 10 minutes of missionary once in a blue moon. She always has a headache, always is too tired, always has to take care of the kids. I talked her into a blowjob for Valentine's Day, and it was waaaaaaaay too much work for too small a reward. I mean, when we actually do it, she likes it and its great and we feel so much closer. We have this fantastic moment. And then it's just like in Bull Durham... `moment's over.'"

I commiserated. "Yeah, I know. I mean, Carrie is a great girl. And sex with her is great. But It's nowhere near as often as I'd like it. And sometimes I feel like if I wasn't initiating, it wouldn't happen at all."

"Damn, Andy, that sucks. And here I though my good looking, unmarried friend was going to let me live vicariously through his sexcapades! If you're striking out, there's no hope for anyone. I guess I can see why guys buy those sex toys you used to sell."

I laughed. "Seriously... I guess it serves me right for having laughed at those poor jokers back in the day. Face it, guys just have a much higher desire for sex than women. We're perpetually screwed, and not in a good way. I guess the only other option to get what we need is to start screwing each other!"

We both chuckled a bit at that, but the laughter slowly subsided, oddly enough, into thoughtfulness. And then a thoughtful silence. I had been looking away, but as silence crept into the conversation, I glanced back at Craig. He was staring at me with... interest. We both looked down. I took a healthy swig of my drink. After a second I slowly looked back up again, and saw he was doing the same.

Craig gave a low chuckle... it might have been nerves. But I had the distinct feeling there was something on his mind. After a moment, he tentatively floated, "So... I mean... have you ever... you know, with a guy?"

"NO!" I jumped in, before he even finished. "I mean, no. Never have. No." I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, and saw he wordlessly shook his head. We both stared ahead in silence. It was awkward... but the idea, once mentioned, still hung in the air. I hesitantly put it into words. "I guess the real question is... would you? Have you ever thought about doing something with a guy?"

Craig took in a slow draw of breath, and finally said, "Well, no sense in dancing around it. I think every guy has." He raised his eyes and looked at me. I gave a nod with an embarrassed half-smile, which he returned. "I thought as much. So fess up. What would it take to get you to cross over to the dark side'?"

I chuckled, took a long sip of my drink, and leaned back. "Well, why not? I'm buzzed as it is, and we're just thinking out loud here. Ok. So... for starters, he'd have to be someone I trust. Someone I'm completely comfortable with... a friend. I'd be way too weirded out to do anything with a stranger. And I'd have to feel a connection to him, you know? Otherwise, I'm not sure it would work... mechanically." Craig gave a half-smile of his own, but let me go on. "But that's part of the problem, you know? I could never in a million years ask another guy, and certainly not a friend. I mean, unless you were damn sure he'd say `yes,' there's a good chance you would torpedo the friendship... and likely get your ass kicked. I don't know about your friends, but I can't think of any of mine that would be up for anything."

There was a pause as we both contemplated my little monologue, and neither of us was looking at the other.

"I'd be game," Craig murmured, barely audibly. He looked up at me and we locked eyes.

Holy shit, I thought. I said nothing, but damn if my pulse didn't pick up a bit. After a very long pause, I quietly ventured, "You... you'd be up for that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. We stared at each other, and I imagine my expression was just as intense as his. Was this even happening? Shit. Holy shit.

"What would you... we... do?"

"Give each other what we're not getting at home," Craig responded, in a voice that he was trying to keep level, but was rippling with adrenaline--or maybe testosterone. "Neither of us is getting blown... maybe we could help each other out with that." I was getting a mighty peculiar feeling in my stomach. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't all jitters.

I sat back, looking ahead, and started running my hand over my mouth and jaw. I mean, minutes ago I was being 100% truthful... I was wishing for a lot more sex in my life than my girl was ever going to give me. And consciously or not, when I explained who I'd ever do anything with, I described Craig to a T. I was both excited and interested... but, holy shit what was I thinking?! This was fucking insane. But the wrongness of it was part of what was so arousing. Wrong. Dangerous. Forbidden. Shit. And worse (or better...?), I was starting to feel it in my groin. The tingling in my stomach had moved to my balls, and my dick was starting to thicken. What the fuck was that?

"Cards on the table," Craig said finally. "I'm up for it. I've thought about doing it, and... I've thought about... doing it with you. I mean, we've become fast friends, but... I've felt a... connection with you."

It wasn't just the words that did it for me. It was... how he said it. There was something in his voice. Something in the intensity of his eyes. Underneath his semi-casual demeanor, there was... appetite. Real appetite. And honestly, more appetite than my girl usually showed. Craig was likely still nervous as hell, but he wanted this. One of the sexiest guys thought I was sexy, and I knew he wanted me. In primal, unmistakable terms. And my cock was responding.

"No one can know about this," I said. I was surprised how thick and ragged my voice was--my body was telling me in no uncertain terms how badly I wanted this, even if my mind was still processing things.

Craig wordlessly moved towards me on the couch, and with gentle determination, put his right hand on my leg just above me knee, and then pushed along my thigh toward my crotch. I gasped slightly, as nerves got the better of me for a second. But as he moved, my body responded. In seconds, my dick had rocketed to its full length, bulging in my work pants. Craig saw it, and knew we were in for one hell of a ride. He looked up at me and smiled, and I shot him back a testosterone-laden leer of encouragement that would have made a battle-hardened whore blush.

Oh, we were on.

Craig slid over, and his strong hands moved from my thigh up to my crotch. I was amazed at the feeling. His hands were... strong. Determined. Confident. But they were... well, not "gentle," as they were too masculine to be gentle. But maybe sensual? A knowing sensuality that knew how to work a man. Knew the dance of lightness and pressure instinctively, and far better than a woman did. He rubbed me through the fabric of my pants and I realized this was going to be more intense than I could have hoped. I could feel precum oozing out of my cock, as my dick started screaming for more.

With little fanfare Craig undid my belt and fly and reached those masculine hands in around me. His touch on my bare skin was electric and I bark-hissed the word "YES!"

Craig looked at me with unalloyed lust. "You've got a big harry dick there, bud. Let's see what he looks like." He violently jerked my pants away and pulled down my underwear, and slid my cock out. Seven and a half inches long at its full throbbing length, cut, and somewhat thick. It curved slightly toward my body. He stroked it with a featherweight touch of his hands, sending a shiver across my whole body. "That is one hot cock. A man's cock. I can't believe you don't see more action with this monster. Big hairy balls, too. Fucking hot."

He gently stroked my cock head, smearing my precum across his finger and then swirling it around the tip of my cock. I gurgled an unnatural sound in gratitude. He pulled back his finger, and ran it across his tongue. "You taste good man. But I need it from the source."

To my shock, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth, slurping his tongue around the edge of my cockhead.

"YES! JUST LIKE THAT MAN! Fucking just like THAT!" He could have no doubt about my gratitude now.

But what he did next really got me firing on all cylinders. He built up some serious suction around my cock, and then drove, drove it down the length of my shaft to my balls, rolling his tongue all the way. Holy. Fuck. I gave out a cry that was part lust, part screaming joy... and part a cry of rage about every grossly inadequate blow job I had ever received. WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE ALL BEEN LIKE THIS? What they say is true--a man does know best how to pleasure another man. Right there, in only a couple of minutes, Craig had given me the best blow job of my life. And... this was just the beginning. He kept going... sucking, swirling, teasing. It was completely unexpected, on a higher level than I could have thought. Again, I realized he wanted this. His enthusiasm was even better than his technique. And his enthusiasm was infectious... damn it, I needed to return the favor.

With great reluctance, I pulled his head up. "I need yours, too, bud. Don't make a man beg."

"Ohhhh, fuck yeah, man!" Craig grinned broadly, and hoisted himself off the couch so he was standing before me. With rapid movements, he undid and dropped his pants, then underwear, and carefully stepped out of them. He reached down with crossed his hands and pulled both his work shirt and undershirt over his head in a single move....

Holy fuck.

I could already tell this guy was a paragon of masculine virility while he was wearing clothes. Without them he moved into the category of a god. His body was perfect, bristling with muscles that were both powerful but natural. His chest was hairy, and a treasure trail led from his navel to his hairy crotch. His cock was similar to mine--about the same length but little less thick. While mine curved, his was straight as a steel girder, and looked about as strong. Holy shit, it looked like Zeus himself had come down from Olympus and was ready for a bout of sex thunderous enough to be remembered in its own epic poem.

Craig chuckled, and quipped, "You just going to stare at it?"

I looked up, and half in awe, half in laughter responded, "Fucking-A, man!" I reached over and grabbed his ass cheeks, and pulled him in.

My face immediately buried into his man-bush, and I breathed him in. It was... surprising. I had always associated a specific smell with sex, mostly coming from a woman's nether regions. I love eating women out--I love eating them as much as they hate eating out guys--and that scent is firmly implanted in my mind. But Craig blew those ideas away. There was a... musky scent to him, deeply masculine, and also given extra spice by his obvious excitement. It was raw, it was primal, and again... masculine.

It was hotter than hell.

But that incredible dick was crying out for attention. I had never done anything like this, but followed his lead, and acted out my long-standing fantasies about what I would want done, how I'd want it done. First, I gave a long, obscene lick that started at the base of his cock, and languidly made my way up, causing his dick to twitch appreciatively all the while. When I got to the top, I flicked his piss slit rapidly with my tongue, and then started making slow, heavy rolls with my tongue around his cock head. Craig growled happily, "Fuck man, I'm loving your tongue"!

"Get ready bud!" I warned. I matched his earlier move, wrapping my lips around my teeth, and drove down his shaft.

"Oh GOD yes!"

Reflexively, his beefy hands grabbed my head, but to my surprise he didn't drive my head down, but just massaged me, reveling in the sensations. It was... surprisingly intimate, and that intimacy added to my own excitement. I kept driving down again and again, slowly fucking his cock with my mouth. Feeling the muscles in his ass clench and release in response while he let out a steady stream of deep, guttural groans. I didn't realize how exciting this would be.

After a few minutes I pulled back and looked up at him. His face, flushed with excitement was plastered over with the biggest grin I'd ever seen. "Goddam, man, this is better than I could've hoped!"

I slowly jacked his sloppy, very attentive cock, and responded, "What say we go to the bedroom and really get comfortable?"

Without a word Craig hoisted me to my feet. His eyes had a sparkle as he held my gaze, then helped me pull off my clothes and threw them aside. "Lead the way!"

We scrambled to the bed, and I all but threw him down to renew my assault. I positioned myself at his side and started sliding my mouth down his cock sideways while tickling under the balls with my fingers. He squirmed some in excited response. I then took the opportunity to work his balls over with my mouth, knowing how much I appreciated that feeling myself. I took them in slowly, rolling them inside my mouth, then sucking on them gently while my tongue danced around everywhere it could. Well, that sure got him going. And... it was so incredible seeing his openly enthusiastic, obviously joyous reaction. No guile, no fakery of any kind, just... raw gratitude. He needed this, and clearly only another guy could give it to him. I had kept jacking his spit-slick cock while doing so, but many I wanted that bad boy back in my mouth. I dove down, perhaps too ambitiously, and ended up gagging myself.

"You ok buddy?" Craig asked, coming out of his hormonal fog.

"Still learning. But man, I'm loving the practice!"

"Awww man... where have you been my whole life!" Craig enthused as he lay his head back. His hands stroked my head and shoulders companionably. He was relaxed, but I could feel the sexual ache infusing him.

Dammit, I was pretty hungry myself, and wanted to amp things up. I went back to driving down his cock as far as I could swallow, and used one hand to twist and stroke his cock to the base, while my other hand roved across his chest until I could feel his nipple. His response, and increasing rumbles of pleasure, told me he was more than enjoying things... he was getting close.

"Oh man, Andy, you're going to have to slow down or I'm going to shoot!"

I snarled out a response, "That's the fucking idea." And increased my speed. Sucking him hard. Driving him. Driving me. Needing it.

"Oh God I'm gonna cum! I'm GONNA CUM! UUUNNNNGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I wasn't prepared for just how hard he was going to explode. The first blast hit the back of my throat and I instinctively, desperately tried to swallow. It kept gushing, a hot, salty taste unlike anything else. Him. Craig's essence. The taste of raw sex. I had never been so satisfied at bringing a partner off like that. There was so much of it--too much to keep swallowing--and the excess blurped out of my mouth and ran down my jaw.

Feeling overcome myself, I rolled over to lie flat on my back next to him, my right hand still slowly jacking him as his body's spasms slowly subsided.

"Holy... shit...!" Craig finally panted. "You... swallowed...! You... fucking... swallowed!"

"Guys have to take care of each other, right?"

Craig hoisted himself on his elbow, and reached over for my cock. Still rock hard. "Oh.... I'll take care of you...!" I was fucking ready.

I don't know where Craig picked up his technique, but my God he gave me a masterclass in cock sucking. He did everything, rapid-fire changes that kept me guessing. Titillating with his tongue. Deep, wet dives of his mouth. Rolling with his fingers. Fast, then slow. Every time I got close, he pulled back, sending shockwaves and driving my hunger. I couldn't take it. Frustration and desire battered with pleasure and animal sensations. I. Needed. Release. But didn't want it to end. Finally, I couldn't stop myself. I rolled over, grabbed his head and started fucking his face as hard as I fucking could, pile-driving my own thrusts to match his. Driving. Again and again. And again and again. Teeth clenched, sweat in my eyes. Again and again and again. And finally with a roar, I blasted out a gallon of spunk down his throat.

We collapsed, me on my back panting; Craig rolled over next to me on his side, with his head nestled on shoulder just above my armpit. As I lay there trying to catch my breath, I was... struck by the animal violence I just unleashed on Craig's mouth, and was trying to mentally come to terms with it. What was that? Who was that? I lost control... was he... cool? Freaked? I didn't even give him the chance to pull off me while I came. This was all... waaaay beyond anything I'd done with a woman. It was primal, brutish... and masculine. Very masculine. More masculine than anything I'd experienced. Would Craig....

Before I could even finish my thought, Craig astonished me. He didn't say a word, but just shifted his head slightly across my chest, and began sucking my nipple. As violent as my face fucking was, this was... sensual. Warm. And it felt gooooooood. "Mmmm. Man that feels nice," I said, still in a hormonal haze.

Craig didn't respond, but kept working me, sliding his tongue across my skin, playing with my chest hair with his fingers. It was... lazy, but somehow still felt driven. He had already shot his load, but he was still hungry and that hunger carried through. Still coming down from my own high, I just melted into it... the feeling of his tongue, his hands. He lifted his head slightly and blew lightly across nipple, still wet with his spit, which sent a shiver across my body. He slowly dragged his face away, leaving a scratching sensation from the scruff on his jaw. Sliding over, over....

And to my astonishment, started nuzzling my arm pit. I raised my head slightly, to see him... breathing in my scent. Slowly. Deliberately. And then, more forcefully... pushing his nose in among my hairy pit. Exploring, and making a low rumbling moan as he did. He increased his speed, running his face hard, with breath coming in gasps. Holy shit, he was getting in to this. And then it wasn't just his nose that was exploring me, it was his tongue, too. His tongue lapping at my pit. Tasting me. Burning my essence into his mind. My initial curiosity dissolved into... more primal feelings. Holy fuck. This was... erotic. It didn't tickle, it was just... fucking erotic. My own moans started matching his, giving a sound that could not be mistaken for anything but sexual pleasure.

I saw him flick an eye toward me, and sensed I was all in. He made his next move. Pulling himself away, he moved between my legs, kneeling. At first, I was sure that he was going to start sucking me again... surprisingly, since he had just gotten me off. Instead, he moved my still somewhat hard dick away, and instead buried his nose in my bush. And again, he inhaled. He kept going, rubbing his face all around my balls. He licked them as he went, keeping me honest, but it was clear it was my scent he was after. I was floored... it had been a full day, we had worked up a sweat, there was cum and saliva... I mean, my girl Carrie would have already yelled at me to get into the shower because I was nasty. But Craig was... clearly living for this.

And he wasn't done. After several minutes, he lifted up my balls, and started in on my taint. Of, if the earlier stuff had been erotic, this was... fucking hot. I couldn't believe what he was doing. Scenting himself. Licking me. Exploring part of me no one had ever explored before... even me. My earlier moans shifted gears, becoming more focused: "Fucking-A, Craig! Holy shit! Don't stop!" And he didn't stop, driving up my temperature. Holy shit this guy knew how to play me.

Then he slid his hands under my hips and cantilevered my ass up and into the air. Without a second glance, he drove his face into my hairy ass crack and started huffing my ass-scent. Rubbing his face against that most private of parts, his stubble setting my tender skin on fire. I couldn't believe it. And never wanted it to stop. This was off the charts. His face burrowed in, with his breath coming in gasps. I started bucking against him, my mind fogging over with a flood of hormones.

And then I felt his tongue.

Ho.Ly. Fuck.

I blasted out roar of excitement. This was... off the charts. Something beyond my fantasies, as I didn't even realize this was an option. He was fucking eating my ass. With my hands I desperately tried to drive his face deeper into my man trench, anything to amplify the feelings. His own hands tried to split me further apart to get better access. His tongue dived deep into my hole, while his lips went after my pucker, which was spasming wildly from the stimulation. He pulled back and gave me hard rolling tongue action along the rim, and then lapping against me like a dog taking water.

It was an important day in my life... the day I learned that my ass was just as important a hot spot for me as my cock and balls were.

I don't know how long he led me on that thrill ride, but at some point he added the use of his fingers, triggering a whole new round of intense sensations. His spit-slicked fingers functioned as another tongue, and probed me. Primed me for wanting more. Wanting a lot more. Wanting everything.

I think I realized where Craig was headed, but any doubts were blown away when he repositioned himself, and started running his rock-hard cock up and down my spit-slick ass crack. Teasing me. But I suppose giving me one last chance to beg off if I wanted to.

No fucking way.

We locked eyes, and I gave a curt nod. I wanted this as much as he did.

Craig hacked up more spit from his throat, and spat it into his hand. Slowly, determinedly, he greased up his dick, already slick from precum oozing out the tip. He repeated the action, and then put his dickhead against my hole. He pushed. Pushed some more. And with a wet "pop," he was in.

"STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!" I belted out.

He stopped. "You ok?" he asked, concern on his face.

"Just... damn you're big. Give me a second. Don't move."

"Breathe, Andy. Just breathe. You're doing fine."

I didn't think I was going to be fine. But after a few minutes, I could feel myself relaxing. Craig was with me all the way. Slowly, he started sliding in, and then pulling out, letting me get used to the sensations. It felt... so unnatural. But in time, I was realizing that was what was so incredible about it. It was unlike anything I'd experienced. Sparking lighting across areas I never knew were so wonderfully sensitive. He triggered a spot deep inside me, and everything started coming together.

I don't know how to describe the sensations. As I got into it, Craig really started getting into it, thrusting deep and hard inside me. It was like each thrust cranked up the volume a bit more, and soon it was like my whole body was on fire. My skin bristling with lightning. Like I was on the verge of cumming, but instead of shooting, the sensations kept building. It was so intense, and I was feeling such a sharp feeling of raw animal lust for him. It was like I was becoming Hulk, bursting out of the body of Dr. Banner. Hunger. Hunger. HUNGER. And Craig responded with even more hunger, engulfing me with it.

And it was so... unlike any sex I'd had with a woman. I keep using the word, but there's no other way to describe it: it was masculine. Like the energy of a group of competitive guys playing ball, but in sexual form. We were aggressive, almost combative, sweaty, loud, and hugely athletic as we drove our bodies on. He fucking pounded me, with his sweat running down his forehead, and splashing onto my writhing body. Instinct took over. I was bucking hard against him, driving his dick in as hard as he was driving into me. Meeting him stroke for stroke. Together, we were creating more friction. More power. More thrust. We couldn't last long.

And then, his animal passion finally brought me to the edge. I could feel it, growing like an ocean roar. An electrical surge out of control. "Ungh, ungh, UNGH, UNGH!... GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Without even touching my dick I blasted out cum like I was a water cannon. Had Craig not been over me I'm sure I would have splattered the ceiling. As I exploded, my ass clamped down hard on his cock, which drove him over the edge too. We shuddered in sexual release together, feeling each other in the core of our being, consumed by our own fire.

We collapsed next to each other, too stunned to do anything but pant out our breaths. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and my mind was whirling... too raw to focus on anything. It was only after a long time--long enough that I wondered if one or the other of us had blacked out--that we finally broke the silence.

"Holy shit." I finally hissed between my teeth. That about summed everything up.

"That was... wild," Craig finally responded. Well, that was an understatement. "You doing ok over there?"

"My heart feels like its pounding hard enough to.... I don't know." That was it... that was as eloquent, as profound as I could be. "I'm probably not going to walk straight for a week, but... holy shit. You had me lit up like a pinball machine. I've never felt anything like it."

Craig gave an exhausted chuckle. "It was... wild."

I rolled slightly to my side. "I can't believe you were, like... smelling me like that. I'm sorry, man. It's been a long day, and you were getting all my... worst zones. Sorry, man. I had to have been pretty ripe."

Craig looked up at me, and responded more forcefully than I expected. "No. NO! Man, it was not a problem. It was... ... ...it was fucking hot." He laid back again. "You don't understand. It's just that, well, my wife is a fucking neat freak, especially after having the kids. Especially around sex. I have to shower first, or she won't touch me. And she insists on me "cleaning up" before we go to bed. It's crazy. And... well, I live in a house where it's only tea parties, rainbows, and unicorns. I mean, your scent was so... fucking primal. Manly. Men. In their rawest. It's weird, but I was finally a guy again, with a guy... a real fucking guy."

I looked at him, chuckled, and said "You're crazy, man."

He only grumbled, "Don't knock it `til you try it." After another pause, he sat up again, sliding his hands though the cum running down his chest. "Well. Speaking of smells... I reek, and that won't fly at home. You mind if I use your shower...?"

"No, you're good. Grab a towel from the cabinet on the left."

Craig hoisted himself to sit upright, and reached over and patted my chest. He then got up and wordlessly padded toward the bathroom. In doing so, I finally got a perfect, unobstructed view of his ass. The motherfucking motherload of all assdom everywhere. Holy shit. His asscheeks were maybe a bit smoother than mine, but with a heavier dusting of hair on the bottom, especially around his hole. Muscular. Thick. Powerful. As he moved, my mouth got dry. My mind raced. That butt was sexy as hell, and I realized I hadn't even gotten a chance to explore it. Damn, and double damn.

But what the hell? What was I thinking? Why was I starting to get an all-new hard-on, thinking about a guy's butt? But there it was. I had just shot out two of the biggest loads of my life, and I was still fucking getting aroused by... a guy's butt. This guy's butt.

As Craig washed up, I wandered out to the living room, to gather up my clothes. As I was getting dressed, I saw Craig's underwear... and my mind flashed to what he had just said. About man scents making him feel like a man. About not knocking it until I've tried it. I brought his Jockey shorts to my face, and breathed in. Deeply.

Fuck.

He was right. That initial feeling that came over me the first time my face was in his bush returned. Fucking masculine. Raw. Animal. It was ringing bells somewhere deep down in my psyche. I was learning something about myself I never knew before. And I really didn't know what to make of it.

Craig came out, toweling himself off. He looked at me and smirked, and I grinned back at him and handed him his underwear. He got dressed, and there was a... silence as we did so. I had no idea what to say, and I guess Craig didn't either. Only when he was done dressing did he finally say anything. "Thanks man, this was great. I mean that... this was great. It was... on a whole other level. We, uh... still friends?"

I smiled. Openly, gratefully, honestly. "Yeah. Sorry. My mind's a blur. But that was... amazing." He returned my smile, and we went in for the "guy hug"--a bit of a bear hug with two slaps of the back.

"I'll call you." He said as he left.

And with that, I was alone. With a whole lot of things to think about.

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