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Written by http://nkeddoorsredux.tumblr.com/

I’d been writing about it for some time, ever since a woman who I connected with started whispering in my ear just how erotic a thing it was for her, even just to imagine.

I’m sure I’d thought of it somewhat, even imagined it before her, but her heated response to the very idea of me with another guy (with her there to watch every lewd savage moment, of course), kind of gave me tacit permission to open that door full on for myself as a real possibility, at least in my mind. The outside judgment had vanished. Now I just had to decide if I really wanted it for myself.

It wouldn’t be long before I realized that I really did want at least a tryout with it, especially with her  ongoing aroused encouragement. And I always knew that, if I’m ever going to give something like that a go, I’m not one to hold back. Then if it works for me, I’ll do lots more. If not, I move on.

But these stirrings began with her a while ago, and somewhat recently she’d returned to her husband who she had been separated from when we’d played. We had actively looked for a male playmate when we were still at it, but we never found the right guy, or the right chemistry with an alignment of desires.. There were a couple of almosts, but nothing really right.  Nothing memorable. Not yet.

Fast forward to this…

A two-week temporary roomie, who was connected to me through a mutual friend, a girl I had dated briefly some years back. He lived on the other coast, but was in town working for a two month run. His gig was now over, but he had some interviews to do in town for new work, and no place to stay. The old gig booked him out of his digs the day after he was released from the job.

Once Terese connected us, he offered me a nice sum up front to stay in my back bedroom for the 14 days he needed before heading back east. I was happy to have the extra cash, as well as the company, and he seemed pretty low-key, smart, respectful, clean and successful. What was not to like?

We didn’t spend much time around each other in the first week, both being busy and on different schedules, But we did have some late night chats over beers, and morning musings over coffee. I got to know him a little and he me. And I’m sure somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have whispered to myself more than once, “I wonder if…” - but dismissed it, because it had only ever really happened a little for me while with Lisa, and I hadn’t thought how to shoot for it alone. I do remember thinking to myself in those moments that he was good looking all over and seemed to have a sexual energy that didn’t stop.

Was it an accident that I let slip the fact that I wrote eloquent porn in one of our late night gabs? It might have just been the subject. Sex always comes up eventually with guys. He said he wanted to read some of my writings, because the stuff he’d read recently wasn’t doing it for him. I figured, hell, he’s gone in a week or so, let him read. He had what I sensed was an open mind, so I gave him my blog page address. And continued to quietly wonder.

I walked into the apartment late the next night, and heard some distinct noises down the hall. I halted in my entryway, closed the door quietly, and listened. It was the telltale sound of a male animal nearing an orgasm, grumbling half-intelligible obscenities, grunting, panting with a subtly rising tonality in his vocal gymnastics. And I swear that my hand went right to my own eagerly rising cock from the very raw ummph of his orgasm’s eruption. Jesus, it stirred me up to hear that, in ways that surprised me.

It was late. I didn’t know him. I wasn’t going there. But part of me at least acknowledged to myself that I wanted to go there. I wanted to walk in and smirk at him and say “You couldn’t have waited for me?” He probably would have laughed along with me, then offered to swallow my cock so that I could catch up cum-wise. I know that now. If I’d known that then….

Next morning over coffee, he muttered from under his ruffled mane, “Fucking nice writing you do.”

I knew he was no pushover in the intellect department and I thanked him appropriately for his fine compliment.

“Are you into all that, or is it more fantasy?” he asked. Then he waited a tick before adding, “I do a little writing of a different kind. I know some is real, some is not. Some desire is only for fantasy, some for real.”

It was a pleasure talking with someone who understood. No lengthy explanations necessary.

I spilled the beans that I was comfortable spilling, even about some of my bi play desires, and alluded to the misfires that I experienced with my former muse on the subject.

He didn’t say much. He seemed lost in the fog of the morning and in the dark brew before him. “Well, I have to say, it made me cum big time last night, and I so fucking needed that.  I lived like a saint on that last project. I just had no time for play.”

I wanted to say more than “Happy to oblige.” I wanted to tell him how intensely erotic his explosion sounded to me. How it made me masturbate with my pillow as a gag. I ended up smiling through my own fog and saying, “Glad I could be of service.”  But even that sounded like a come-on, and I never meant it to be.

As we waded through the surprisingly porn-peppered, waking conversation, he asked me more directly about my experiences with guys. After all, I’d opened that door already.

I told him in more detail about Lisa getting me started, and our time searching for the right guy to share with her. And how a couple of them were interesting, but not so much into what we really wanted to do or even try. “It hasn’t really worked in reality…yet” - I let that hover in the morning air, for us both, really -”but with the right guy, I think it might.”

“Yeah”, he chimed in, “I’ve had that problem. I like the idea. Even had a couple of decent experiences with guys. But I guess I’m too fucking picky for my own good”

Suddenly, I laughed and he followed.  We were semi-mirrors of each other in more ways than I ever expected.

I just said quietly, but firmly, “We deserve so much better than decent.”

The conversation trailed off as he said, “Yes…. one of these days…” and I nodded, then repeated his words nearly verbatim.

It hung there in the warming air, though neither of us acknowledged more than the conversation itself.

*

Over the next few days, we barely saw each other, and he was nearing his departure day. I texted him to let him know that if he needed to stay longer, he was welcome without any more remuneration. He answered that he’d love to but his airline ticket would be too expensive to change again. Then he suggested we hang out that night if I wasn’t working.

We caught a bite at a nice sidewalk cafe, shared stories and people watched. We picked out girls we’d like to meet and take home as they sauntered by. He mentioned that he didn’t look for guys so much in that way, but then he pointed to a young good looking male who he thought he might maybe want, “If the guy’s not an asshole.”

I said, “Let’s find a nice couple and kidnap them both. We could share. Have a little of each flavor.”

It was all done with that sarcastic low-keyed humor that men banter with in public, but there was something underneath it all that neither of us would mention, barely even to ourselves. To me though, it rang in my ears with every passing comment.

Back at my place, it was getting late. We talked about his last full day’s schedule, and about his trip to the airport the following morning. He headed off to clean up and get some rest.

But at one point, before he closed his door, he yelled out again, half-jokingly, “I’m going to read some more of your bi porn and whack myself off to sleep. Try not to listen!”

“I don’t know, you sound pretty good!”, I retorted, not letting on that I actually did hear him.

There was a bit of a long silent pause. I yelled again for fun, “Did you cum yet? Was it good for you?”

I heard from the back room, “Shut up, I’m reading smut and I’m hard.”

My body was quietly trembling. I could feel my mind actually considering just going back there, walking in on him and grabbing his cock for… well, a little but of everything - swallowing, riding and then some. But I had no idea if it would be welcome, or what kind of weird mess it could make. God knows, he looked good enough to dive into, but that’s not everything.

I could hear the soft beginnings of his panting, the kind from someone stroking himself upward into his pleasure dome. The house was completely still except for his gently mounting sexual noises and mutterings. I found myself holding my breath just to listen to every nuance. I had my own cock in my hand and was beginning to masturbate along with him, thinking, ‘he’s just down the hall…’.

I was about to say something to him, to finally test the waters, even just to peek in and watch him cum to my story - I had no fucking idea what - when a text came through on my phone. I was grateful for the break in the sexual tension.

But it was him. Texting from the back room.

“I’m texting so I don’t embarrass myself with you. This fucking story is so hot, this shit you write is so real… and, well… if you wanna help, or join me… you know where I am.  Worst case, I’m gone in a day and a half.

My mind raced. This was one of those moments you think will never come. I texted back one word: “Serious?”

His response came. “I’d love to try. See if it’s better than before. If it’s weird, we can stop. But… you might be the right one..”

My cock was rigid, thumping and drooling and I’d barely even noticed.

In the nerves of the moment, I was stupidly trying to decide whether to text him back first or just walk in and start something.

One more text came in with this photo - of him stretched out on the back bed, his bared nipple and torso and his very alluring ass. Fuck. one look and I knew then that I wanted him. I wanted to be buried deep in that tempting round ass; that lush ass that was right now being offered freely.

I texted back: “What, no cock?”

“I have one, but I’m not a cock shot whore. Cum and get it, If you want.”

I almost started to laugh. We were just a hallway apart, flirting over our phones and both stroking very hungry hard meat, waiting for perhaps the right signals to ignite.

I wrote back: “On my way. Don’t move.”

I walked in to see him in the photo pose. It was just fucking perfect. I’d thought to even bring some lube on the way, which I dropped on the floor when I sat next to his half naked body. I knew what I wanted. It was him. All of him.  ’This one’, I thought to myself, ‘might just be the right one. The right one to see how much I really want this in my sexual arsenal.’

“Fucking nice ass you have”, I said sincerely. “Lemme see the rest.”
He turned just enough. His cock was perfect. Nice thickness, nice length. A perfect meal for any opening.

“So….” he hummed, “Wanna… try some…things?”

“I wanna”, and I punctuated the answer with a warm hand wrap about his shaft. The silk and steel feel of him in my palm sent a shock wave of wanton fire through my veins, and spun my brain into just the right fever mode for this new breach of sexual custom.

I wasn’t quite sure where to start, because it was like a gourmet meal awaiting me, looking all too delicious. Where to begin? Then I had an idea, and gently said, “I’d hate to interrupt your reading, so… just go back to it. I’ll ‘help’ as you so brilliantly suggested.

*

There was something so intensely intimate about what we began to do. He went back to reading one of my longer, dirtier MMF bi sex stories, and in the mix, we half consciously began stripping and pawing one another.

I slipped behind him once we were both naked, and slowly stroked his gorgeous cock as he read my story, silently at first. But now and then, he would re-read a heated passage to me aloud, and I’d ramp up the cock play to hear his voice falter and wobble, while I nipped and kissed his naked shoulders. With every stroke and every taste of his skin, I wanted him more. My body couldn’t seem to get close enough to his.

He would ask me to read some sections to him, so he could close his eyes and drink in the sensation and the wicked words. In between the spoken text, I’d remind him, now and then, not to cum yet. By the end of the story, my hand was drenched in his pre-cum and his ass crack and lower back was soaked in mine. I was stroking his cock and pinching his nipples and biting his neck, as he was rocking back into my swollen thickness.

We both slowed to breathe a little, and I said in an unintended hoarse whisper, “Did that… help?”

“Uh huh”

“Gonna read more?”

“I can’t focus”

“Good”

We had hardly looked at one another, but that was imminent. We were primed. The savage beast would not be quelled for long. But we were new to this and to each other. so we stumbled our way further though the luscious darkness

Before I turned him to face me, I whispered again, as I slid my slippery dick up and down his perfect ass. “If I had my druthers, I’d really like to fuck your ass as deep as I can go. It feels soooo fucking good. And I mean to leave a gallon of cum in there too.“

He made an unintelligible sound which I thought was a heated “fuck yes” reaction.

I asked, “That work for you?”

“Yeah, uhhh, so works for me… yes yes yes. Do it.”

I tried to be polite to my willing naked guest. Why, I don’t know? “What do you want to do?”

He kept rocking on my length and arching back into me. We could have done that for an hour or two, I thought to myself.

“I’ve always wanted to have a really good man-to-man 69″, he managed to mutter.

Mmmmm, “I love the sound of that”, I said, “We should do that first.”

Without another word spoken, we shimmied about to face each other, and there came that moment of truth. Shame-tinged, but determined eyes meeting, sparkling in the lights through the window. Our nakedness complete to the other, bodies and wanting souls. I placed his hand on my cock, and we were suddenly, silently falling into erotic mirror games.

Now our eyes wouldn’t look away and rather quickly there was no shame left in them. There was a simple, mutual decision.  It hadn’t been fully made in truth until our eyes locked in this deeper nakedness.

He became almost a shy little boy as he asked if I liked to kiss. I said that I hadn’t kissed but one other man, but I wanted to kiss him. We both leaned in and our bodies scooted closer, our cocks meeting, our hands braiding to join in on the up-and-down motions as one.

Lips to lips, turned swiftly to a battle of the tongues, sucking, lapping, nipping, and now the furnace was stoked and heading toward roaring. I found myself suddenly shoving him onto his back on the bed, pushing his knees toward his chest so my cock could meet his at full length. Again, our hands clasped both shafts together,  as we  began an outer body fuck, our tongues tangling when they could reach one another,

When I pulled back a bit, our eyes met again, but this time, with that look of “Fuck, we are doing this and I’m not stopping”. The reflections were speckled with mutual fire and our bodies responded with a ramping-up of perpetual motion.

Then it was like a dare. The dirty talk came out of real questions.

“When you imagine your 69, are we both cumming in each others’ throats and faces?”

“Mmmm, fuck yes” he moaned.

“Yeah, I want to feel you erupt like you did the other night when I heard you cum. So. Fucking. Hot.  I want to know how it feels when you blast your cum into my face and down into my body.”

He blushed, and made more aroused and arousing grunts, then he began to fuck my cock back hard.

“Tell me what else you want”, I demanded, since I had the top spot for the moment.

“When you fuck me” he said plainly, “Make it hard and all the fucking way in.”

“That’s the plan”

I leaned down and bit his nipple. Then he asked me if he could do the same to my ass.

All I said with a mouthful of his lower lip was “You better.”

That was it. I swiveled my hips about, dangled my dick over his face, and took his in my hand, wrapping my lips about his slick cockhead.

I had one more thought before I devoured him cock and soul, “Try and see how long you can hold out. There’s always much more cum that way.”

I could feel him shake his head yes with half of my shaft already across his tongue. And off we went, into a cock-sucking tug-of-war.

I’d never felt anything so feral and wrong. hot and arousing, dirty and brilliant in one rocking fuck dance. I knew I was in the throes of making another man shoot a warm gooey load of his sexual seed down my throat and into my gullet, something I had never done except maybe in wet dreams. And I was going to tease every last drop out of him that I could. The more I played and teased and taunted him to the edge and back, the more I wanted this. Badly. I could hear the phrase ‘cum whore’ bouncing about in my consciousness.

We switched positions now and then as we tussled. It was a throat-fucking wrestling match and his ass rocked back and forth in a way that I almost wanted to stop what we were doing, pin him down and ramrod his hole until we both  roared to the fucking heavens.

I couldn’t believe how much of him I had taken in my throat at certain points and still tried for more. I had fingers in his ass that were wetted with some my saliva and his precum. I was fucking his ass’ gripping hole with three fingers, knuckles deep, humming low in my throat for added vibration, and shaking my head in a rhythm to add to the raw fuck-and-suck dance we were doing.

We were actually sucking each other side-by-side when I felt him growl in a telling way, with my cockhead nuzzling his gag reflex. I knew I was about to get cum-blasted down my open throat for the first time this way. I clawed his ass and pulled him in deeper to let him know to let go and just fucking explode into me.

I growled back with the sheer bliss of this cumwash I’d help to create, tilted my head to capture as much as I could without gagging, and when his first volleys happened, the lusciously lewd feel of his cum spraying across my tongue and rushing into the back of my mouth and parts adjacent tripped my own triggers as well.

Suddenly there were two men, gurgling and gulping and panting and moaning and fucking furiously, their faces full of rocking, spurting man-meat, both fighting to savor every ounce of sticky sex they could muster from this the double-dip tango they were fiercely engaged in together.

It had been better than I’d ever dreamed it could be. All I could think in the wild swirl of the moment was, how can I keep him here for a month or two?

As we alighted from our filthy flight, we kept stroking one another, careful not to over-sensitize our sticky, twitching tools. I swiveled back to face him again, and we instinctively tangled side by side, legs interlocked, mouths dripping with cum, which swiftly became the prize of our ensuing kisses, when we could stop panting long enough to do so.

“Fucking hell”, I finally managed, “Good, ummmm, suggestion”

“Yeah” was all he managed before we kissed in a really hot and dirty fashion.

I quietly said, “That was really…. fucking good. Great. The best. I mean. it makes me… You make me… want more. Just sayin’”.

“Me too”, he said quickly, “Lots more, if you’re up for it.”

“Lots sounds good, yeah”

There was a long pause, during which we busied ourselves with seeing who could lick up the most cum from the other. And I don’t think we had stopped playing with each others’ dicks as of yet. It was definitely a sign of  wanting more.

He smiled, kind of wickedly and said “You weren’t really planning to sleep tonight, were you?”

I smiled back to match him, “You weren’t planning to really go home on Sunday, were you?”

The conversation swiftly returned to dirtier places.

“When I fuck that hot ass of yours… and I will very shortly”, I promised, “I want you to be reading one of my stories. I’m not going to let you cum until you finish the story aloud. I want to hear what your voice does when I tease your pleading dick, while I drive mine deep into your spine as you read depraved things to me.”

We were both getting hard again.

He finally answered, “I’ll think of something to match that when i take yours…”, he trailed off.

I challenged him by simply saying, “You better…”

This night, I now hoped, might never end.

 


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