A Two-fer for Al
Friday was almost here; Kent was due in that next morning; finally! But I’ll have to cop to a second ball-unloading Thursday night before that right after I fucked Gil and walked out directly after filling him.
I’d left Gil’s in my still-sweaty workout clothes Thursday night. I’d walked over to Ocean and again enjoyed the sea air fresher amid the oppressive July humidity. I stopped at a food truck and grabbed a delicious fish taco and ate it on the way back up to the hotel.
When I got back to our suite I was enjoying the evening’s warm breeze and listening to the surf on the balcony naked after a cool shower when Kent called. “How was it hon?”
I’d texted him when I was going to fuck the sexy Cuban concierge again and his sugar daddy. “Oh you know; something to do. I love you too by the way!”
“Uh HUH!” he laughed. “Tight young Cubano ass and you being all Dom top on him I’m betting. Bet he made you blast like a NASA launch.” Kent had an uncanny connection with my psyche; the Dom thing is rare for me but he sensed it from a text?
“You’re here somewhere already; watching?” I teased him back.
“If you only knew how many inches I’ve missed you,” he volleyed back.
I did and I do. In fact I’ve missed his humongous boner far more; I’m certain. “How’s it looking for tomorrow?” I asked.
My flight is at seven and I’ll just make it if I work all night finishing my piece.”
“I’ve got plans for your piece,” I told him. My dick was at full attention just like that.
“It’s all yours hon; I’ll sleep a hour on the plane so I can at least go one round with you before crashing.” No way one round will be enough, I thought to myself ruefully. “This one really kicked my ass; and I’ve been having trouble tonight all of a sudden with some of the reference links as I’m doing the last round of edits. Weird and annoying. That’s why I’m betting I’ll be up all night.”
”Oh I could keep you UP all night hon!” I growled into the phone.
“Ha! Let’s plan that for tomorrow night after I’ve slept all day while you’re working.”
”I’d love to be working your big bone right now,” I told him and stroked my own hard-on and spread some pre around my head.
“Fuck babe you wanting me is the best incentive to get my ass in gear!” he told me.
“Yeah when you’ve exhausted that fuck-machine dick of yours and my hole is too sore to sit I’ll take care of that sexy butt of yours!” I growled and was full-on stroking with one hand and working my boiling balls with the other.”
“Fuuuuuuuk Al you’d better let me go and get on with the last of this until I’m finished or I won’t make that plane. If we start a phone sex thing I’ll probably need to release four or five backed-up loads; then no way will I finish before I have to decide between my career and my sexy husband.”
”You could work here; you’ll have the whole day at least after we’ve fucked our balls off when you get here and I have to go off to work. You’d have the rest of the day and you could rest-up so you can do me right in the morning.” I was trying and my dick was throbbing in my fist and drooling like I hadn’t just fucked some prime young ass an hour before.
“I love you Al.” And he ended the call. I know he’s serious about his work even if he could retire like me. I stopped at that thought and laughed. Retired but not retired right now, I thought. What the fuck was I thinking when I let my former bosses talk me into this weeks-to-months consulting gig? I should be spending all my the precious time we have together with Kent.
Thats the thing: Kent’s time is wrapped around his white papers for think tanks and big companies. He’s young and his career as a freelance researcher putting his hard-earned PhD to work is young. Like he is.
And speaking of hard my formerly- throbbing dick was softening in my hand. Gooey with my copious pre the moment was lost. I contemplated jacking-off in general; something I never really got into when I was single. Another guy jacking me? Fuck yeah that could fire my balls into a blast furnace. My husband jacking me? A nuclear missile blast-off. But my own hand? Functional at best. I’d always envied men who so enjoyed playing with their own toy.
And then incongruously I thought about our dear departed best friend Sasha. Our Siberian Husky best friend had passed and the house, pool, and yard weren’t the same. Part of the reason I’d taken gig was to get away from the constant reminders. We both missed Sasha and sometimes Kent or I would just go to the other and grab hold and cry.
Well at least that killed my horns! Nothing like grief to kill the crotch urges. I finally decided I’d take another shower and go out for a walk; maybe a warm shower, a walk in the warm evening breeze, and my audio-book would ease me into an early turn-in.
The huge spa-like shower in the suite my employers had set-up for us had more jets than I remember counting; which is saying something since we redid our master bath when we moved and our own wet room has sixteen spray heads! I fumbled with the digital controls until all the jets were going, got the temp right to my touch, and stepped into a deluge.
As I lathered myself I shed the darker thoughts and enjoyed the feel of my hard muscles. I’d worked so hard to gain back after my accident and the months of surgeries. And I’d done damn well for a fifty-something man; certainly Kent lusted for me continuously. I rubbed my left nipple and thought of my husband’s mouth; his lips and tongue and teeth on it. And there I was again with my dick in my other hand.
How long I stroked and fondled myself I couldn’t say; but I finally realized that I wasn’t going to cum. So I slammed my fingers on that keypad until I’d got the temp control to LOW.
Even not nearly icy the change was bracing; compared to the balcony and 80° followed by the warmth of the sprays moments before. My balls pulled-up for safety and my dick went from just about eight stalwart inches to five and flopping before I’d realized and I was shivering. Still I enjoyed lathering my hard-muscled body now more vigorously; I was trying to warm myself. Still my thoughts were all over the place and still bounced to how a hot twenty-something local enjoyed me balling him. And my young husband and his work and my temporary work and my horniness for him.
I cleaned my still-full balls and my needy dick well just like I was taught to; I was careful to make it fast and efficient and not slow and tempting. Cleaning my hole was more difficult to avoid arousal but I managed to leave myself tingly without going too far.
As I toweled I continued to enjoy the feel of my own hard body; hard-fought after I’d been hospitalized for three months, then six month of cautious rehab, and after those nine months skinny and very old-looking. But when I got the clear I went at it; with Kent’s help and the doctors’ cautions. I couldn’t change the three to four inches of scars down my chest but I could get myself otherwise as close to a Muscle and Fitness cover bod as possible; keeping my young big-dicked husband might very well be dependent on it.
I don’t often spend time appraising myself but in the hotel suite’s huge master bath there was a wall of mirrors in addition to those over the vanities. Not bad Sherbourne, I admitted as I was momentarily taken by my reflection. I might be disfigured down the middle of my chest to my upper abs but otherwise I’d do me. I still have all my dark hair with only a complementary smattering of gray at the temples and some in my bush; ample coverings of the dark thatches on my tanned arms, legs, chest, abs and butt. I turned in the mirror admiring that butt of mine; take it in a close frame and I can compete with any college athlete. How many thousands of squats had I done to rebuild that? Sure my upper arms, thighs, and calves don’t show as college class but they’re taut and sinewy and bulge and ripple in the right ways. And yeah having a bigger-than-average dick that shows and hangs plumply over a set of big low-but-not-too-low hangers and thanks to god still works flawlessly kept me on the plus side in the gay assessment rankings. I’d do me, I decided still gazing at myself appraisingly and laughed aloud in the echoey room.
But what about now? I thought about what to do with my evening; I’m unused to being on my own after the wonderful years since that first time with Kent. Where the fuck would I be if he hadn’t said in what was to be his last day working at the restaurant where we’d met with him waiting on me, “So I’ve got my doctorate now (which I knew and had celebrated with the restaurant staff a few weeks earlier) and tonight’s my last night because I start a job in my field Monday. I want to celebrate in you; tonight. I hope all night.” I caught my breath after I’d realized his initial choice of words and the prospect of this young stud fucking me senseless and managed to croak out, “Sounds good.” Somehow he not only still hooked-up with me after that lame comeback but he married me a few years later. I’d completely forgotten what it was like to be alone other than that three months in the hospital in ‘20.
What to do tonight … I had an audiobook and I had plenty of reports and emails from my work assignment I could occupy myself with. I was also in a gay Mecca and had just pronounced myself doable.
NO! Enough Al! I chided myself. Read, watch TV (rarely of interest to me), or work? Neither reading nor working would keep my mind off being without my husband and being horny for him; at least not for very long.
I put the towel I’d dropped to the marble floor earlier up on the eco-sustainment hook to reuse and padded naked into the bedroom again. I knew that anyone outside in the dark who could see the glass walls of the suite could see my nudeness with all the lights on inside and the dark outside; the maid service for the evening had left everything on including all three TV’s with spa-type music which wasn’t relaxing me at all.
The pool area on the side was completely exposed if someone was on the far side of that vast expanse or elevated in a room or on a balcony on the adjacent side; the other direction was out the ocean-front balcony. I stood at the glass facing the pool boldly. Did I want someone to see and to come up and … I stopped myself there. I considered taking my laptop to the balcony to write-up the Gil-fuck-and-cuck story for GayDemon; but that would surely exacerbate my frustrations.
I was horny as fuck again; the Gil-fuck just made me want more and thinking about it again re-triggered my balls. To be candid it hadn’t done much for slaking my horniness it; just drained my balls and it felt more like a performance than a pleasure. I contemplated my vow (again) to wait until Kent arrived; I’d already blown that … twice in as many days oooops though with his endorsement. Actually I’d fucked it up not blown it; I laughed to myself at my lame pun. Better not try comedy, I thought.
A walk and then … the book or work? Both? Actually I can listen to the book and walk; then I can work if I want to.
I found a dry jockstrap and clean workout shorts, socks, got into my shoes, shoved a t-shirt into the waist of my shorts, and set out. Descending in the elevator and all the way on the walk toward the exit to the pool a portly gentleman probably ten years my junior talked about his own open-heart surgery and what great shape I’m in since mine.
Yeah, I noticed. And will I inspire you to save your own life? I participated little though I was consumed with wonder that he could survive that then roll the dice with his obesity. I broke off for the pool exit with, “This is me,” and was free of all that.
I re-started my book and again enjoyed the painfully precise enunciation of the British baritone narrator. It was nothing consequential or enlightening; a first person-told mystery with a retired UK Norfolk police detective as the protagonist. I walked out through the pool area and several groups of still-partying hotel guests and went on to the beach.
When I got to the beach the nearly full moon inspired me; I could see where I was going. I set off at a medium jog back south and was quickly running along Lummus Park parallel to Ocean again and on down to Muscle Beach. As I ogled the nite-lifters and other eye candy I wondered to myself if I’d known I’d be heading here.
An eye-catchingly lean lifter in his thirties made eye contact and smiled. He was a red-head among a sea of Latin-looking men and was very tanned, handsome, tall, and wore a speedo-type squared-leg style swimsuit that looked inadequate to contain a softball-sized bulge. As if he knew what I was thinking he adjusted what appeared to be a very fat dick and his smile turned dirtier. His v-shape was insane; if his waist was twenty-eight inches I’d be surprised but his chest had to be forty-five at least and his shoulders stretched from Ocean Drive to THE ocean!
There was no good angel on either of my shoulders; he’d apparently abandoned his post somewhere on my run. I approached the ginger directly and maintained eye contact. “You done for the night?” I asked.
“I’m hoping you’ve got something for me to do,” he said still grinning and adjusted himself again. “You have a hot ass; I didn’t miss that when you were farther out on the sand but I sure hope I see more of it up close.”
There it was: positions staked-out. He wanted my ass; and based on my stiffening dick and his growing bulge we were well-joined in that pursuit. “Take me home and fuck me senseless? I’ve a lot on my mind and would love it all fucked out of me.”
He took a half-step forward until our sweaty pecs were touching. Looking slightly downward to me he said in a low rumble, “Fuck yeah I will!” Louder to his buddies but to none specifically he said, “Hasta la boner mis amigos!” That spawned a gillion cat-calls, woof whistles, and vulgar well-wishes. I didn’t give a shit and neither did he; he threw his arm around my shoulders, clasped my sweaty left pec and flicked my nipple with his fingernail, off we went. His pit-scent was strong and manly.
We made small-talk on the several-block brisk walk to his condo … a tiny but very nice condo not that high up with a view of the intracoastal instead of the buhgillion dollar view of the Atlantic. The condo may not have been as big as my hotel suite but it had a big bed in the small bedroom and a stud pulling me toward it. The setting sun’s glow on his tan made it seem his studly body was glowing; the strawberry-ginger body hair caught the glow.
I’d learned his name was Eric and most of his friends called him “Red.” He liked that and I said I quite liked it too. He wasn’t much bigger hard than he was soft which was confusing given the bulge earlier; but his tool was the painful side of girthy and about six inches long max. Beautiful though; veiny and rock-hard with a nicely flared head that I knew would hurt going in. I’d found all this out within moments after we were inside as he was out of his shoes and suit in a trice and pulling off mine.
“Whoa fuck Al. That’s a major weapon you’ve got there bud,” he said with obvious awe. “Damn man I’d happily die trying on that hog of yours if you’re up for it.” I could see his wide eyes and drooling dick; he meant it. Was I going to be denied my fucking?
“I told you what I want. A deal’s a deal,” I said and squeezed his fat boner.
When he shoved me back onto his bed, climbed aboard, straddled my chest, and whacked my chin with his stubby club I wasn’t relieved because he could easily sit on my own fuck-tool which was due upward. Then to my relief he shoved his straight bludgeon into my mouth and said, “Take it! You thought I was going to bottom for you first handsome?” he laughed. He fucked my face but then he abruptly pulled out and backed off to where his balls were grazing my erection. He rubbed his flattened right hand up and down my racing stripe. He said in a lowered voice very gently, “You had a rough time of it.”
I had; more than he’d ever guess. I decided to answer his question. “I knew you would fuck me; I was prepared to rape this beautiful stalk of man-meat if necessary to make that happen.” I reached him and squeezed it hard.
His eyes burned down into mine. “Fast and hard or slow and full of passionate restraint?”
His lips were nearly touching mine and his breath was warm and cool at the same time courtesy of some strong mouth-wash. I could have taken the passion; but I craved the rough. “Fast and hard with full passionate abandon,” I answered without hesitation and hoped I’d satisfied both of our cravings.
To that he drooled adroitly onto his rod and slicked it up as he scooted off me and lifted my legs. I caught them behind my knees and pulled them back and he hocked another glob of spit directly onto my pucker and shoved his fat dick-head right into me.
“Aaaaaaaaa FUCK!!!” I quite nearly screamed as he breeched my channel. I’d thought he’d eat me and loosen me up; but here I was nearly screaming in pain … delicious and deserved pain.
“You can take it … because I know you want it.”
I tried to reply but the searing pain inside and at my sphincter prevented anything but yelling; which seemed to fuel him. He was railing me like we were in an elevator and had to be finished when we got to our floor. I seriously hoped he didn’t finish that fast.
“So fucking hot,” he growled as he pounded into me. “Soooooo tight!”
He pounded away and I was doing birthing breathing. My husband’s dick was much bigger; yet this guy was tearing my man-hole to shreds. It took all my concentration to relax my hole; still he didn’t care and pounded me. His scent was getting stronger and his sweat was dripping on me and flying off his red curls as he slammed into me.
It went that way: one position, pounding, relentless drilling, cursing, sweaty man-scent wafting, sweat flying, and that muscular triangular torso rippling as he continued.
“You’re made to take cock aren’t you? AREN’T YOU?!” He shouted when I hadn’t answered.
“Fuck me!”
“SAY IT!” he shouted at me menacingly and for that bit of time he triple-timed my hole.
“I … said … it. FUUUUUUUUCK ME!”
He growled and spit in my face which is not my favorite thing but revs my engine in a fight-for-dominance scene. I summoned some fortitude and clenched my hole on him TIGHT and cause a reaction.
“That pussy is made for cock; even if you won’t admit it.
I’d passed the worst of the pain, was adapted to the force and stretch of it, and was heading into the zone of abandon I craved. “Tear me up stud. Is that all you got? I SAID … FUCk ME!”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw set; he pounded me faster if not harder. I had no idea how long he could keep this sprint going but I knew I wanted his seed sewn deep inside me. I took his tiny waist in my legs, hooked my heels in the small of his back, and began bucking on his flailing dick. I got myself into a position where his stubby club could pummel my prostate and began yowling.
“Fuck man that’s hot!” he shouted. “Yeah dude ride it man. Ride my bronco cock.”
It distracted me to think about whether the analogy held but didn’t lessen just slowed the building tension in my balls … not entirely. “You think this is a rodeo and you can bust this bronco boy?” I taunted him.
He ground his teeth together and growled. “I’m gonna knock you up!” he said and drooled spit on me as he snarled and strained to bang me harder.
I spit up into his face; a clean shot, on target, and a beautiful glob that caught his left eye. “See if you’re man enough!”
He shoved my legs by my knees and shoved them into my arm-pits as he grunted and strained to fuck me harder; than Christ for yoga! He wasn’t on target but enough if his head scraped my prostate that I was still building toward my release. If I didn’t have bruises on my ass from his bony groin I’d be surprised.
Somehow he shifted and his slamming groin was knocking against my balls; not slamming them but some impact and that was enough to catapult me into oblivion. “Fuck it out of me stud!” I urged him.
“Fuck yeah dude! Give it to me man. Let it go!” He urged.
I was there soon enough and began convulsing as my body expelled another load of the evening all over me and some on his chin. It felt good; better than earlier. I let myself go to it and felt him fucking into me and my dick spewing out of me as I rolled in my mind on the waves of pleasure.
I was only vaguely conscious of his grunts and spasms and epithets as he dumped his load deep inside me. Not sure at all how long the unloading went on but it seemed days.
“That was fucking amazing!” Eric the sweating panting bodybuilder said barely holding himself above me. “Can I kiss you?”
“Eat my hole and feed me some of your load,” I demanded.
His eyes widened but then he dismounted, pushed my hips up again, tentatively put his face near my freshly-brutalized hole, and then was in and lapping, tongue-fucking, slurping, and moaning. He came up with his face slimy and kissed the fuck out of me; I admit I sucked his face right back and clutched at him wishing it was Kent and he was here already.
When he pulled back he looked at me intensely. Then he suddenly gave me a quick no-tongue kiss and flopped down next to me. “You’re a hot lay!”
I laughed so suddenly it startled me. “What every man hopes to hear.”
“How was it for you?” he asked without laughing at my joke.
“What every woman wishes she didn’t hear,” I quipped.
He was on his side and had his head over me gazing intently. “Dude you’re no woman. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means suck my cock and balls clean now. Please?” That got a smile.
“Me too?” he asked almost shyly. “You’ve tasted you on me and know it’s safe.”
I laughed heartily and reached up and pulled him by his curls and kissed him. I thoroughly sucked and licked his mouth and then pulled him off. “I taste damn good. And so do you!”
He pulled my hair that time and pulled me in for another kiss. It was longer than mine had been. When we parted he flopped back and seemed like the moment had passed. Then, “Husband or wife?” I hesitated for a minute and he pulled my left hand up and touched my wedding ring.
“Oh,” I said in understanding. “Husband.”
“Does he know you fool around?” he asked smugly.
The tone and the presumption hit me wrong. I was out of the bed quickly. “I don’t,” I answered strongly. “He’s the one who told me to get laid while I’m waiting for him to get here. A place-holder until the good stuff.” I‘d pulled my running shorts up, grabbed my shirt and was getting into my shoes.
“When does he get here? And do you want to get good and fucked again before he does?” he asked with that same smug grin. No impact from my rebuff.6
“You’re presuming I thought this was good; I just told you that you were a place-holder,” I said as I headed out of the bedroom.
I hadn’t realized how unimpressive his dick was until he vaulted off the bed and and hurried after me with his softie full on showing. There wasn’t a lot to flop around; my husband is a shower and a grower and that’s what I measure all others by. Pun intended. I briefly considered checking his workout suit for padding; that bulge had been bigger!
“Al I’m not the one who came hands-free,” he said as he caught me in the small living room.
I turned. It’s not my nature to be mean even to smug guys who don’t know shit. “It was good, Eric. But just a suggestion?” He looked at me quizzically. “You’re a good fucker and a handsome guy with a killer bod. Don’t be an asshole about it. That isn’t attractive except if you’re into it DURING the fuck.”
I turned and reached for the door handle and he touched my shoulder. I stopped and turned. “What I meant was that it was a stellar fuck; you are a great fuck and we had a great fuck together. I didn’t intend to be an asshole but okay maybe I was a little confident because it was so good. I’d love to do it again if you would want to. And if your husband is flying in, he may have some problem getting his flight. There’s some virus that’s supposed to be closing down the world. I had six or eight news updates about it on my watch. Flights being grounded right and left.”
I thought about nine-eleven, holding my toddlers close, and fearing the end of the world. I hoped like hell this wasn’t a replay but wanted to get out of there and to call Kent.
I tuned-out for a minute and fortunately heard in some background track that Erica wanted to exchange numbers. I put my phone out and he looked panicked as his wasn’t around. “Just give me your number and I’ll text you mine,” I told him and he rattled it off while I punched in the digits. “EricRed BodyBuilder” is how he went into contacts.
I left moments later and checked the news feed before I got to the elevator. With a sinking feeling as I scrolled I intended to call when I got to the lobby. Instead my phone rang in the elevator. Kent’s flight for the next morning was cancelled.
My first thought wasn’t for the state of the world; it was for my still-needy balls.
