(Editing and feedback kindly provided by EditingAlix.)
That night I couldn't sleep. After Ali had left, I slowly walked home. Normally it was a twenty-minute walk, but I must have taken double that. The enormity of what had occurred hit me now that I was on my own. I have been unfaithful to my girlfriend. That was bad. I had kissed, passionately, another man. That was surprising, to say the least. That man had then hand-fucked me in a shower and I loved it. That was insane.
I got home and slunk into bed. My girlfriend was already fast asleep. I lay there for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling. Several times I fought the urge to wake her up and confess what had happened, but I resisted. Maybe this was a one off. An indiscretion that would never be repeated. Deep down, I prayed it wasn't, but I was able to convince myself otherwise.
As I lay there, my mind drifted back to the shower. The memory of Ali's hand on my cock and his tongue in my mouth caused me to get hard again. Almost unconsciously, my hand drifted to it, and I slowly started to work it. Slowly, my recollection of the shower drifted into fantasy. In my imagination, I reached out and grabbed Ali's dick and started to stroke him. He moaned into my mouth as we both worked each other's cocks. Then I imagined him on his knees, my member in his mouth. I wondered how he would suck me. I could just imagine the sensation of having his tongue swirling around the head of my dick.
In my imagination, our roles swapped. It was I who was on their knees in that shower, and Ali who was face fucking me. Ali had his eyes closed and head thrown back as his cock drove into my mouth. With a roar, he came and then, in my imagination, it was me who guzzled his seed hungrily. The thought of Ali coming from my efforts drove me over the edge. My cock stiffened and, for the second time that evening, I shot a load of milky seed onto my belly.
Eventually, I drifted off to sleep. The second climax must have finally worn me out. The next morning at work was excruciating. Every five minutes I checked my phone to see if Ali had messaged me. Several times I typed a message to him, but never sent them. Frankly, I didn't know what to say. The memory of the shower returned unbidden more than once.
At around 11:30 I felt my pocket vibrate as I made myself a coffee in the canteen. My heart leapt into my throat as I checked my phone and saw a message from Ali.
I couldn't book anywhere. Come round mine for 1900. I'll cook.
The rest of the day was a blur. I was anxious and ecstatic at the same time. I spent hours mulling over the variables that affected that evening. What should I wear? What would he wear? What should I say? Would he tell me that last night was a huge mistake?
As soon as the clock hit five, I flew out of the office and rushed home to get ready. I showered, shaved and spritzed myself with some aftershave. I also ironed a shirt. I hadn't put this much effort into my first date with my girlfriend. That thought made me pause for a moment. What had happened the day before could be written off as a moment of madness; what I was doing now was a conscious decision to try and be unfaithful. I promised myself that if I did anything else with Ali, I would tell her. I owed her that as a bare minimum.
That led to another, more serious thought: what, precisely, would I do with Ali? The day before, Ali had given me a handjob in the gym's showers. I was, to a certain extent, passive. I had tried to reach for Ali's cock, but he had gently stopped me. How far would I go if Ali didn't stop me, or even encouraged me? I would definitely return the favour and wank him off, I was sure. But what else? I ran through the situations in my mind. Ali sucking me; me sucking Ali; Ali on his back, my cock buried inside his arse; me on my back with Ali looming over me, his manhood pushing deep inside of me. The various permutations made me both simultaneously aroused and anxious.
I had never been intimate with another man before. I had only been with girls, and the dynamics and mechanics of it were all clearly defined. But with two men, how did it work? I had tried speaking to Ali in the past, in one of our late-night hot tub sessions about how the sexual dynamics worked with two men. Not the mechanics -- I had an imagination, after all. But how roles were agreed upon. "Who was dominant and who was submissive?", I asked. Ali was always coy, preferring to change the subject or merely to make veiled allusions. There was only one occasion when Ali had actually shared any details. We were talking about previous conquests when Ali let slip that he was a natural top. At the time, I had taken that for what it was: an interesting fact about a friend. But now it took on a whole new significance. As I drove over to Ali's, the mental image of him pushing inside of me kept returning to me. It made my mouth dry, my heart flutter and my dick hard.
I arrived at Ali's right on time. He had a second floor flat in the centre of town. As I climbed the stairs, the smell of cooking reached me. Something spicy and tomato-y. It smelled amazing but I doubted I would be able to eat a mouthful. I arrived at Ali's door and knocked with butterflies in my stomach. After a short pause, Ali answered. He looked great. He was wearing a fitted shirt and trousers. His light brown hair was slicked back while his salt and pepper scruff had been neatly trimmed.
He erupted into a broad smile when he saw it was me and ushered me inside. After taking my coat he pushed a glass of red wine into my hand and guided me to his sofa. I sat down, and Ali parked himself beside me.
"So," he said. "Dinner won't be ready for a while. Which gives us time to talk about what happened last night."
I nodded and sipped my wine. I had waited to meet Ali all day, and now I was tongue tied.
Seeing that I was clearly struggling with what to say, Ali continued. "Did you tell your girlfriend what happened?"
"No. I thought about it but decided I probably shouldn't till I worked out what happens now."
"Very sensible. And what happens now, then?" asked Ali.
I gulped. I had been wrestling with this question all day and had not settled on an answer. I decided to go for honesty rather than thinking of something clever.
"I don't know. This is all a bit of a mindfuck, really. I don't know what came over me last night. I've never felt attracted to another man before. If you had asked me yesterday morning, I would have said I was as straight as they come. But when I saw you last night -- when we were in the hot tub -- I wanted you. I wanted to kiss you and I'm glad I did. It was... fantastic. It made me feel a way I haven't in a long time. I felt desired. I wanted you, and..."
I tapered off. I didn't know if I could be
that
honest. Ali had maintained an inscrutable poker face. I felt his eyes on me as he took a sip of his wine. The silence felt deafening. I was desperate for Ali to fill it.
"And?" he asked.
Fuck! I felt very very vulnerable. Not normally a position I found myself in.
"And I want you now," I whispered.
Ali initially did not move, just looked at me with his brown eyes. I drained my wine glass. I felt myself blushing at what I had just said. I hadn't intended to be quite so forthright. Without saying a word, Ali placed his wine glass on the coffee table and shuffled closer to me, so close that our legs were touching. He reached up with one hand and gently cupped the back of my head holding it in place. His lips met mine. I instinctively opened my mouth to grant him access. His tongue entered my mouth and began to dance with mine. I felt his free hand place itself on my chest.
As we kissed I felt the calmest I had all day. I had, in my mind at least, given myself over to Ali. He would lead and I was prepared to follow him wherever he led. I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me. The hand he placed on my chest loomed heavily in my mind. It was a symbolic gesture -- he was in control.
As we kissed, I breathed him in. His aftershave was floral, with a slight hint of something woody. His mouth tasted of red wine. As mine and Ali's tongues entwined, I felt the blood begin to pump in my crotch. Was he hard too? I hoped he was. I hoped he was as turned on as I was.
Summoning up my courage, I reached out and placed my hand on the bulge in his trousers. Beneath the fabric, his cock was rigid in my palm. I felt a jolt of electricity run up and down my spine; I was holding another man in my hand. Two days ago, what I was doing now, rubbing another man's cock as we kissed, would be inconceivable. And yet, there I was.
As I squeezed Ali's member through the thick material of his trousers, I heard a small moan of pleasure escape from him. I felt emboldened. With a little difficulty I managed to locate, by touch alone, the zipper of Ali's fly. I pulled it down and tenderly pushed my fingers into his trousers. My fingertips fought with the layers of clothing contained within before suddenly making contact with the warm, smooth skin. Instinctively my fingers curled around him. It was a familiar feeling rendered strange by the fact I was doing it to someone else.
I tenderly pulled Ali's dick from his trousers. It was a little smaller than my own and hard as a rod. As we kissed, I began to work it in my hand. It was awkward at first. I wasn't used to working a different cock, and the angle didn't particularly help. I eventually got into the rhythm of it. Ali gave a satisfied sigh as I did so. I felt a tinge of pride that he was enjoying my attention. His hand moved from my chest to the skin of my neck, holding me still. Without warning, he broke our kiss. He looked into my eyes, and I saw lust in them.
Did he see the same in mine
?
"If you want to stop," he whispered, "just tell me to stop."
I paused for a moment. I was dominated but also desired. I couldn't recall a time before when I had experienced either, let alone both. I loved it. With all my other girlfriends, I had been the dominant one. I realised at that moment it was a role that didn't necessarily fit. I knew then that whatever Ali wanted, I would give it to him, and give it gladly.
"I will," I whispered.
"Good," he responded.
With that he slowly started to lightly push my head down. I didn't resist. I bent in the middle and positioned my head above Ali's waist. Millimetres from my mouth was the tip of Ali's cock. The force on the back of my head stopped. He had moved me into position, but it was on me to take him into my mouth and commit to the action. He would not debase me, I had to debase myself. I opened my mouth and lowered my head. I felt Ali's dick ease its way into my mouth
What struck me most was the texture. Despite being hard, his skin was so soft and yielding. The slightly salty taste wasn't unpleasant. Ali gave a sharp intake of breath and softly swore. I began to bob my head up and down. The bulbous head of Ali's cock began to slide in and out of my mouth. I would raise my head just enough so that only the very tip of his cock was still touching my lips, then I would force my head down, letting his cock rub up my tongue. I had no idea if I was doing this right, but Ali was enjoying it. I glanced up to look at him as I sucked him. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply. His hand still rested on the back of my head, but there was no force from him. I was mouth fucking him entirely of my own volition.
