Damien

Although essentially a very true story, I am a firm advocate of safe sex and for fantasy purposes have omitted the wearing and use of a condom and lube which took place.

We had visited most of the bars in the small French town we lived in but never the one nearest our house as we had mistakenly believed it was only a trendy restaurant but one day found ourselves there. There were 2 good looking guys serving on, blond with blue eyes, both not an ounce of fat on them, and I had begun to wonder how we'd missed this place. We visited more and more until the closeness of the 2 was explained. They were brothers, damn! They were both married with a child each, damn! They were unavailable, damn! Now unless there's a chance, I don't waste my time so I no longer fantasised about either of them, thinking they were out of bounds, but simply enjoyed their hospitality and the ambience of the place. We learned they were called Hugo and Damien. The younger brother (Hugo, 25) disappeared from the scene and it wasn't until some months later when a colleague who went to school with them explained the elder one was the bar owner and 'let his brother go' on account of him enjoying the drugs they both dealt from the bar late at night that it all fell in to place. Staff came and went and winter arrived, leaving the town very quiet. Damien's wife left him too, leaving him running the bar alone.

One day we had a power surge, blowing various things at the house, including our internet connection, so I was without WiFi which I needed for our business. For almost a week I was using the WiFi in various cafés in the vicinity with my tablet but at least business could continue.

Late one morning, I decided to take a coffee and take advantage of free internet at Damien's, he was opening up for the lunch service. He was behind the bar when I entered, so I didn't notice he had one hand down his trousers, the obligatory low slung, cut off jeans he seemed so fond of. We exchanged pleasantries and I ordered my coffee which he made expertly bearing in mind it was a single handed effort. I nodded towards his occupied hand and asked if he was okay.

"Boner," he said "can't get rid of it."

I've always found the younger French guys very open, they knew my boyfriend and I were gay but had no qualms about being naked in the changing rooms at the gym or swimming pool when we were around. And there were some nice sights...

"Causing you a problem?" I asked. It seemed to be and although I couldn't see the boner, I doubted he could work all lunch time with one hand wrapped around his cock, even if it was likely to be a quiet day. He nodded, and didn't seem too amused by his predicament.

"I studied sexual psychology for a term at college," I lied, "I could take a look if you are blocked." He stared at me momentarily and I was worried I had overstepped the mark but could at least pretend I was only kidding, when he nodded.

"Yeah, okay, go through to the kitchen," he said.

I was quite surprised but pushed open the door to the kitchen at the back of the bar and watched through the porthole as he locked the entrance door to the bar. Now how the hell was I going to fake my expertise just so I got to see his boner? He came in to the kitchen.

"Just drop your shorts and underwear and sit on here," I said, patting the stainless steel worktop. IIt was probably going to be cold on his buttocks so I placed a clean towel there before he obliged. The shorts were down instantaneously and I could see the end of of his knob poking well above the waistband of his tight boxers. He tugged the underwear lower, releasing his impressive cock. At least in the length department, he was a skinny guy and he had a slim dick, to be honest it was about the width of a broom handle but cut and a decent length (a good 8 inches), just as I like them... It flopped back on his hairless and hard stomach when he sat on the worktop and leant back on his elbows, revealing a small and smooth pair of bollocks in a tight sack. He was almost hairless except for the crown of soft pubes, mainly hidden by his erection. Wow!

I stood directly in front of him and spread his legs a little. I placed a forefinger at the back of his nuts and gently stroked.

"Sensitive?" I asked. I figured he probably didn't go there too often so wouldn't know how erogenous that area always is. He nodded and then I ran both index fingers simultaneously and gently down his balls, one on either side.

"That too?" I asked. He nodded again.

I repeated the actions several times, watching his cock throb before me, inches before me. I then walked to a shelf adjacent to us and lifted a small bottle of olive oil down, smiling to myself. Extra virgin? Who knows?

I dripped a little on to the palm of my hand and rubbed it in so it was warm and then took a breath before wrapping both hands round his shaft. I have no idea what he thought or the effect it had on his head but knew full well the effect it had on me as my nerves gave was to rock solid sexual excitement and my own cock burst into life, filling my track suit bottoms I realised I had come out wearing without underwear. I gently wanked away at his cock with my oiled hands.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Christ, yes!" he said.

I told him I thought I had identified a possible solution to his problem, that he needed some kind of lube as dry wanking wasn't working for him and that he would benefit from the feel of his cock against somebody else. I told him to stand and I dropped my tracksuit bottoms, placing my arse against his cock with it pointing up the crack to the small of my back. I squeezed my own buttocks to grip the part of his lubed shaft that was nestled within.

"See how good it fells for you?" I asked, meaning 'see how good it feels for me?'

"Oh boy, yeah," he said. I then pulled forward a little and placed his cock between my legs, below my opening, and squeezed again. I asked him to drip some olive oil down the middle of the small of my back, knowing it would continue down my arse crack, and he obliged. This meant my hole was oiled and I moved forward just enough to release him from between my legs and slowly felt the tip of his cock riding upwards towards my eager orifice. My sphincter quivered as his knobhead touched against it but I didn't want his cock moving any further up my crack, I wanted him to enter me so I pushed back with just enough pressure to hold it there. I relaxed my man muscle and pushed back a little further, feeling a rush of warmth in my arse as the first inch or so entered me. I clamped the muscle, hoping he would feel the sensation, and then relaxed and pushed back another inch or so as his broom stick prick entered further. I slowly and gently started to rock and another inch of his meat filled me. I guessed he had about half of his cock in and it felt awesome to be helping a friend in such way. Awesome. I bent over further, almost touching my toes, and with one hand reached back through and very slightly squeezed his nutsack a few times. I then turned myself with him still within so I was lying on the tea towel face down and my arse was hanging over the edge as he pumped away of his own accord and volition, no instructions or assistance needed. I saw him add a few more drops of oil to whatever he could see, probably the bottom half of his shaft and pubes moving to and from my arse and the top half buried in my warm and welcoming hole.

Reaching back with both hands, I could stroke his own smooth and solid butt cheeks, which seemed to have the desired effect as he let out an almighty roar, his whole body shuddered and I felt sput after spurt of his hot spunk fill my lower body. God knows how long he hadn't cum for but I didn't care, I was only too pleased to accommodate (and to be able to)! His ejaculation seemed to last for a minute and I thought he was in a trance as neither of us moved except for my own twitching cock but I waited for him to make the first move and felt the satisfying sensation of his softened cock cleanly slip out of me, thanks to the oil.

I pulled up my tracksuit bottoms even though my own boner was apparent but that could wait for now, my boyfriend was at home and would sort that out minutes later, I walked through to the bar and gathered my tablet and glasses, unlocked the door, turned round and said to Damien "you're cured!" before heading for home, a second fuck from my boyfriend who'd enjoy hearing what I'd been up to- and who'd been up me- and the release of my own juices. But that's another story...