Accidental Contact

11/06/2014

 
Picture

He swore that he didn’t mean to send me those photos. He even went as far as taking a screenshot of his phone to show me that he’d gotten two names mixed up in his contact list. I believed him. He was honest enough about his quiet, occasional bisexuality, that if he’d meant to send it, he would have said so, even with a wicked joke. He apologized profusely, then sent me screenshot #2 showing me the fixed contact list.

The funniest thing about it was the pics were meant for a new girl he was chasing. One was a full frontal nude cropped below the chin, showing him holding his very lush thick erection. The second was a rear shot of him lying on his back, multi-fingering his ass with his feet in the air. Both very enticing to anyone prone to erotic male nudes. I smiled to myself, knowing the girl they were originally intended for.

'How can I make this up to you?” He texted sincerely.

I made him wait. I kept looking at his photos, wondering if I dare let him know that I actually liked what I saw - and if given the chance, the right set of circumstances, I just might…

"I"ll think of something. ; )",  I answered, letting that ring in the air.

"Ok. Just  please don’t share those pics. Delete away."

There was a long pause, then he added, “Or enjoy them. If you do, ummm, enjoy them, let me know how much.”

There was the door. All I had to do is peek in.

"I will." is all I said.

Enough time elapsed that the chat was over. Hours later, a curious inquiry came from him.

"Deleted? Or enjoyed?"

"Neither. Yet."

"So, you might? Enjoy?"

"I might. They’re very… good."

"Thank you."

A long silence. Then an added comment from him, gently offering me the key to said door.

"No obligation, but, better in person. Just saying."

"I imagine so." I left it at that. I was still undecided, but I also liked the idea of the tease, keeping him wondering and wanting.

I perused those two photos again. He was masculine, yet sensual, appropriately aggressive,  yet switchy enough for me to call the shots. Especially for the first outings, if I dared to indulge. And more than anything, he didn’t push after he offered. That I appreciated immensely.

I dropped him a little surprise later. “If I did come to see the goods in person, I can’t guarantee I’ll buy. This is a new for me. New horizons I’m considering. I have to take it at my own speed.”

"Understood."  He let that settle in. Than made a counter offer: "If you like, you can look, touch, even sample without obligation. Your speed, no drama. I’d be honored that you’d even want to. Never imagined you would."

Another lingering pause.

"You free Friday?" I asked.

"Yes. Pick a time. I’ll send you the address of my… showroom. ;)"

Why not, I thought. He was just right looks-wise for me, if I chose to venture that way. He seemed open to whatever does or does not occur. I needed that option and he offered it freely.

Then the word “sample” kept running around in my head. I wondered what he would consider a sample. I’m sure I could try a little close-up viewing with touch, maybe a taste here or there. If it’s irresistible, I could try negotiating for a test drive. He seemed interested enough in spoiling a curious straight man to give that a possibility a green light. If not, I’ll pass.

I texted back: “Friday. 7PM. Send me the addy. FYI: To me, the goods are important, the feel, the taste. But chemistry is everything when the timing is right.”

"Understood. No obligation to buy. Feel free to test… everything."

Then he sent me the address. My cock stayed half erect for the remainder of the day, from the taunting breeze licking at me from the other side of that depraved door.

That night, still stirred by the unplanned step into uncharted waters, I opened his photos and proceeded to lose myself in filthy visions of what might come to be, as I stroked vigorously at my needy cock. I came in raging buckets all over myself as I imagined the best case scenario of how Friday night could go. I was definitely ready for this ride, if the mount was healthy and a good match.

I whispered to myself as I licked up my own spurted cum from my still shaking fingers,  “Game. Fucking. On.”

To Be Continued, of course…

 


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