Fight Night 3

I had felt the tension for a long time, and for a long time I had wondered if there was such a thing as making a "safe" move.

My capacity to appreciate other men as sexually attractive doesn't bother me at all, mostly because it rarely insinuates itself into real life. I'll have the occasional same-sex fantasy while masturbating, or during a lazy weekend afternoon when I'm home alone, but that's usually the extent of it.

With one particular friend, a guy I've known for nearly fourteen years now, there has been what seems to be an ever-increasing boldness in him. He makes no bones about calling me handsome, or gorgeous in front of our wives and friends. I've always responded favorably, if for no other reason than just to make onlookers uncomfortable. People can be so weird when it comes to expressing sexuality. Even if he didn't mean it sexually, I always took the opportunity as a compliment, and an excuse to be "edgy".

Finally, I decided to see if he would be interested in getting together "just the guys", preferably on a night when our wives and children both had other obligations. I just wanted to test the waters. See if he would make a move, since he was always the instigator of the compliments. I actually thought I might be giving him the opening he was waiting for. I thought it would be fun to see what happened.

We finally agreed that I would come to his place for a pay-per-view UFC match. He offered to make dinner and said he had a fridge full of beer, so I made the necessary arrangements and headed over.

Most of the night was pretty uneventful, partly, I suspect because he hadn't heeded the "no wives and children" caveat. His wife came home from work shortly after I arrived, and he was in charge of the baby when I got there.

After dinner and a couple of matches on the TV, his bride took the child and went to bed. With a few beers in me, I decided to test the waters a little. I had to walk in front of him to get to the fridge, so I would vary my gait each time. I would shuffle past with my ass facing him on the way out, crotch on the way back, all the while trying to see if he was sneaking a glance at either one. If he was, he was being very sneaky about it.

Just when I thought all was lost, as he was getting ready to go to bed, he set me up at his computer with access to all of his porn.

Before long I was looking at image after image of mouths on cocks. Female mouths, granted... but beautiful female mouths on exquisite examples of man-meat. There were plenty of photos of male/female sex as well, but by far the most common pictures were of big throbbing cocks being sucked.

I was drunk, and already horny. And my erection was getting bored from being gently petted through two layers of clothing, so I unzipped my jeans and opened my fly. Sitting in his home office in the middle of the night, I turned the chair to an angle that I thought might show my cock to anyone watching from the darkened hallway. I still had my underwear on, but there was hardly any point. I had adjusted my cock so it was pointing straight up at my navel and the head was just visible above the waistband.

I sat there like that for quite some time, moaning quietly when I saw a particularly nice cock, or any other picture that struck my fancy. I wanted anyone watching to know exactly what I like, because for all I knew, if anyone was watching it might have been him, but it might have been her. Hell... it could have been both of them. I didn't give a shit.... I was just hoping someone was watching.

Eventually, I realized it was just too damn late to be up jerking off to my buddy's porn. I sure as hell wasn't going to cum all over his desk or floor, and I only had the clothes I was wearing. So I went to bed in their wonderfully comfortable guest room.

Fantasies of all sorts bombarded me when I first lay down in my underwear on those soft sheets, but I was so drunk and so tired... I was asleep before I could do anything about them.

The following morning was Sunday, and I awoke to bright light sneaking around the blinds of my room. I also awoke to find that the raging hard-on I'd had when I laid down was still in full effect, or had returned. I rolled onto my back and pulled down the soft white sheets to see that my cock was now protruding a good three inches above the waistband of my underwear. I quickly slipped them off and laid there quietly staring at my dick. It throbbed against my belly like a dragster at the starting line.

I spied a large mirror over the dresser across the room and got up to have a look at myself. "Not too bad", I thought. "A little skinny.... A little too pale, but I thought my cock more than made up for those shortcomings, and I've heard similar reviews in the past.

This only made me hornier, so I peeked through the blinds to look onto the driveway only to find that no one was home.

"Church." I thought to myself. "It's Sunday... they must be at church."

And then I did something that surprises me to this day. I didn't think about it. I just did it: Before getting back into bed, I opened the door to the bedroom and took off my underwear.

I alternated between sleep and wakefulness for a while, the only constant being the iron rod protruding from my groin. During one period of wakefulness, I spied the open door and arranged the sheets so they conformed to my ass as I lay on my stomach with one knee out to the side. I moved my hips slowly in a circular motion, savoring the feeling of the sheets as I drifted back to sleep. I probably kept that motion up for some time even after I was unconscious.... As horny as I was by that point.

The next time I awoke, I immediately rolled onto my back and reconfigured the sheets to mold to my thighs and highlight my cock. I stroked myself gently through that wonderful material, watching every move I made, until I drifted off again.

When I awoke for the final time, I was still in that same position, but I must have moved because the sheets were no longer arranged properly. I set to work immediately to put them back as they were, not bothering to look toward the still-open door as I did so.

Once I had the sheets just the way I wanted them, I gave my cock 2 or 3 loving strokes and laid my head back down. When I did, I felt a sudden urge to look up.

When I looked up... there he was, standing 2 feet from the foot of the bed.

"Uhm.... Hey." I stammered, trying to sound as though I'd just woken up.

"G'morning," he said with a grin.

And then he said something that has haunted me ever since:

"You need anything?" And I swear he was looking straight at my dick.

Since that day I've come up with any number of responses to that question:

"Sure... A little help would be great."

Or

"What'd you have in mind?"

or even

"How 'bout we blow each other?"

In reality I didn't say anything of the sort. I did give my dick one final stroke for good measure.... But what I said was:

"Not at the moment."

To which he gave a single nod and left the room.

Scant minutes later, I found him in the kitchen and drew myself a large glass of ice water. We made – what was for me – awkward small talk for a few minutes until I announced that I needed a shower.

And I did... for more reasons than one. The thought of driving home with that never-ending erection didn't appeal to me in the least. When I reached the first floor bathroom – the one next to his office – I noticed that the shower stall lacked any type of soap or shampoo, so I searched him out and asked him for some.

He brought me a bottle of Dove body wash. As he handed it to me he said: "Be careful... she's a real slut."

So when I entered the bathroom for my shower, I left the door open about 6 inches. I figured: if he wants to watch, he can. If he doesn't want to, I can pretend I thought it was closed. We're both safe.

And I put on a fucking show, people. To this day it remains one of my top masturbation experiences, if not the top one.

I entered a 3-sided glass shower stall that is in direct eye-line of the door, and once the water was upon me, I started lathering up. I kept my back to the door for the first minute or so, as I casually washed my shoulders and upper back, but as I washed further down, I found my toes pointing and my ass sticking out. It felt like I lathered my ass for 5 full minutes, and my cock was throbbing like a locomotive getting ready to leave the station. When I turned around to face front again, I was a little dissuaded to see that the steam had fogged the glass. I convinced myself that if I was the voyeur, I could see enough to keep me interested, so I continued.

I made a slight effort to maintain the guise that I was cleaning myself. Just long enough to get some suds on my chest and legs, before I turned my attention to my aching cock.

The entire time I pretended that I had no idea the door was open, which gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted.

I posed.

I slowly fucked my fist, squeezing my cock tighter and tighter with each thrust.

I looked down and watched my hand sliding up and down on my fervid dick. I was mesmerized by it.

I pretended I could see myself in the large mirror over the vanity, and gave myself a show.

I moaned and groaned at the appropriate moments, hopefully telling my audience that I was truly enjoying myself.

It finally became too much, and I couldn't tease myself anymore. I braced my right elbow against my hip, angling my fist to accept every stroke of my long hard cock.

With my left hand, I reached up and help tightly to the top rail of the shower stall, leaning back to bear my weight on that arm.

And then I proceeded to fuck my fist with full, firm, slow strokes. It felt so fucking good... in no small part aided by the fact that I believed he was watching.

And then I came.

I came hard, and I came long. I unloaded stream after stream of jism onto the glass walls of my little theater.

It took me a few minutes to recover, but once I did I found him sitting quietly at the desk in his office.

He walked me to the door. That was over 6 months ago, and we haven't spoken of that visit since. And then just the other day, I was at a party at his house with over 100 people in attendance.

"You're just beautiful." He said to me.

"Thank you." I said with a smile.

--- this is the truth up to the moment... if I get a pleasant response to this story, I'll write some of the thoughts I've had about where it might go from here.