Rendezvous with Russ (A true experience of a married bisexual) By Billy Jay Dee
He rapped at the door promptly at 7 p.m. which surprised me due to the lack of enthusiasm and luridness in his voice when we spoke over the phone. I opened the door. I smiled more broadly at his large size and stature. I sighed in relief that he wasn't 10 years my junior like I'd worried.
"I'm Russ," he said, advancing into the room and offering his hand.
Russ weighed at least 230 and stood 6 foot. Curly, short-cut, salt-and-pepper hair snuck out from under his baseball cap. A full short-cut beard graced his solid chin. He was big boned with a big belly. And, yes, a hairy chest revealed itself in the "v" of his flannel shirt. I could smell the soap from his recent shower even at the awkward distance we stood apart inside my motel room.
"Not watching the World Series?" he inquired.
"MTV usually provides better background noise," I replied.
He smiled in response.
"I didn't expect you to be so big. I like that."
"And I like you," he responded.
His left hand reached for my crotch. His lips suddenly pressed against mine. His beard didn't scratch. His lips felt like silk. The embrace of his tongue with mine was like the kiss of a butterfly. We began to caress one another's chests and play with each other's nipples, then quickly stripped. His chest was adequately hairy. His dick was short and stubby to the eye, but I knew with these big bellied boys that all I have to do is press against their flesh and a full rounded hard seven-inch cock will slide into my hand.
He sat me on the bed, knelt on the floor and began some serious sucking on my cock. I looked down my hairless chest to see his blue eyes glazed with delight and rosy cheeks concave with suction. But there was something else I wanted.
I pushed him erect and bent from my sitting position to suck his pudgy pole. We found the position pretty ineffective.
"Here." he grunted and tossed himself on the bed.
I rolled his knees up to his shoulders. By reflex his hands pulled his thighs even further apart. My tongue licked up the conical shaft of his cock, tickled his little round balls nestled in a nest of pubic hair. But I decided not to move further downstream. He was definitely hard, but I could move his prick to any position, which told me we would have some ass-fucking fun. I was ready to mount up when he pulled me up onto the bed, kissed me deeply for a while, then put me on to his head. He pulled my hips to his lips and went back to lapping and licking with his butterfly-soft tongue strokes.
I thought, "What the hell! I like to fuck face."
I wrapped my ankles under his arms and start pumping away on his silky lips. My wife hadn't done this in ages. I went for it, crumbling into a ball at the head of the bed as I squirted into his mouth.
I had to do my part though and crawled over his belly to find that solid little soldier still waiting. As I started deep-throating Russ, he spun my butt around for some sixty-nine kind of action. I sprawled over his belly and the distance from the tip of my tongue to the base of my crotch was stretched to the max. I wasn't really ready for seconds on my cock, but I did want him up my butt.
As I turned to suggest it, something warm and soft struck the fist I had wrapped greedily around his cock. Lunging back I barely got a mouthful, gagged (after all I'd just eaten dinner) and lapped up as much as I could. We collapsed side by side.
When he got up to clean himself I tossed him a towel from the bedside stand. He cleaned himself while grinning at me shyly.
"How long you here?"
"Until Friday."
"Could we get together Thursday? Late?"
"That sounds good," I assured him.
"Really?"
I guess I can wait that long to have that plump pole inserted into my hungering butthole.