I was putting the shaving paraphernalia away into the cabinet when the man I was going to fuck in a few days came rushing through the open door, not even pausing at the threshold at the sight of yours truly half-naked, only dressed in an open shirt and my briefs. My immediate reaction was to cuss: "What the fuck! Occupied!"
"Sorry man, need to piss real quick, and the other toilet was occupied." He even sat down to piss, like a proper lady, eliciting a chuckle from me. "Emmm, can you turn real quick, I have a pretty shy bladder."
"Opps. Don't mind me." Closing the cabinet, I strutted out of the ensuite, pausing at the door to take in the sight: a cute twink sitting on my toilet, his undies at his ankles, his feet twitching in anticipation of a piss. So adorable. I imagined him taking a seat on my face. Fuck. My briefs' pouch lengthened in response.
I needed to talk to my husband. Maybe fuck him first, then talk. Talking was definitely the order of the day, sometime. Because if not, soon my dear husband's ass would not be the only one to taste my cock.
"Honey? Honey where are you?" I found my husband in the kitchen standing over what looked like chilies. Shutting my mind over how delicious it all smelt, I was going to berate him -- or rather his friend -- for intruding into my space so early in the morning.
"Oh there you are. Did Aaron got to pee in peace? I was using the toilet just now, so I told him to use ours."
"Yeah about that. I was shaving when he barged in."
"Oh honey. I'm sorry. But peeing trumps shaving any day. Come on, be a man about it."
"I am being a man about it. Don't I feel like a man to you?" I trapped my husband with my hands and nudged my bulge on his unsuspecting ass. "Don't I feel like all man all the time to you?" I asked again.
"Come on honey, Aaron can see."
"Let him see how the man of the house acts like one."
"You certainly act like one." My husband screamed, and lost his spoon inside the boiling chili. I turned and in the process showed off my pecs and my abs from my opened shirt, not to mention the bulge in my underwear. "Wow, you certainly looks like one too."
"Aaron play nice. Come taste my chili." I moved to the side, allowing the brazen blond to come close to my husband, but not before seeing him flash a grin towards me. Fuck. I closed my shirt and covered my bulge, but did not attempt further at covering. Let him seethe or something.
"Mmm, I like my chili like I like my men... chunky."
"Chunky? Did I not get the meat right? What about the seasoning? The salt is enough, no?" All this time the twink kept his eyes low, riding on my poorly covered bulge, which decided it was perfect time to grow larger by the second.
"Don't sweat it, babe. Your chili's perfect." As is your man. The implication was clear in the way he nudged his soft hand on the one covering my bulge. It was as hard as iron tacks. How my husband did not see all this was surprising to me. I pushed away at the hand and moved closer to my husband, putting my free hand on his ass, earning myself a smile from my baby.
Later that night I was feeling rather amorous, knowing dinner went great. The twink lo and behold kept his hands to himself and my parents, who drove in from the suburbs, were wonderful. The chili was a hit, though knowing my man he partook of it only a little -- he was not fond of spicy things. He was reading the latest Jilly Cooper on his Kindle, and I was hoping the read may have aroused him enough for a nookie. I began my assault by kissing the side of his neck. "Baby, baby I love you so much." Kiss. "Thanks for feeding my parents." Kiss. "Thanks so much for cooking, and keeping your friend out of the way." He sniggered at that, and pulled back from his Kindle.
"Aaron's a good egg, I promise you, it's just he needs a roof over his head after he broke things off with his boyfriend."
"I don't care, baby." Kiss, this time near his nape. "I just want to make love to you, and never hear his name again."
"Sorry babe, not gonna happen. I'm tuckered out from cooking, can you err, take care of it yourself?"
Now he's pissing me off, but ever the gentleman I did not show it. Instead I took his hand and brought it to the raring bulge in my pyjama pants. "Mmm," he muttered. Strike one. "I'm sorry babe, I really am tired though."
Shit. "That's okay babe." I kissed him on his forehead and shuffled across the bedroom towards the ensuite, to take care of... business. I opened the cabinet and took out my favorite lube, the aloe vera gel, the old trusty, slid my pants down my feet, sat at the toilet and went to town on my erection. I was fast, I was furious, and in no time I was close to a satisfying orgasm. My hand raced up and down my cock, imagining it was my husband's deep ass, when somehow my thoughts ran to a certain blond twink currently enjoying our hospitality a few doors down from ours. That sneering mouth would feel real good wrapped around my big cock.
With that thought running rampant in my mind I came. I came so hard there were stars behind my eyes for a few seconds. The dribbling semen looked so delicious in the sedate light of the ensuite, so I gave it a lick. Creamy-salty sweet, if I might say so myself.
Aaron kept up a semblance of civility for the next few days. He was affable, funny, even gregarious at dinnertime. He laughed at my husband's jokes, sometimes even before the punch line landed, but that just went to show how close they were, that sometimes even old jokes got recycled. Nobody minded, and I kept a gruff exterior, though sometimes as Aaron laughed I would notice how wide his mouth got, and that thought inevitably turned into something sexual.
"Baby, anything wrong?"
"Mmm. No, nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"
"... Nothing."
All this while Aaron watched me with that eerily omniscient look in his icy blue eyes, as if knowing I was thinking of stopping his mouth with something very hard and very erect. That, combined with the way his foot was rubbing on my crotch, just out of sight of my dear husband, were making me rather hot under the collar.