My drunken Friday night encounter with Greg was my first ever gay sexual experience and I quickly decided it would not be my last.
That first quickie was followed by another hour of passion later that night. We went to my room where I enjoyed Fritz's sloppy seconds willingly. I heaved myself at Greg's ass, hammering until I came hard. It must have felt good for Greg too, given his moans and the fact that he ejaculated too. When that was done, Greg gave me my first real blowjob. His tongue set my nerves on fire and once I nearly screamed.
"Shhhh," Greg said. "Fritz will sleep if we don't make any noise."
I remembered the way I heard my landlords fucking upstairs in their bedroom earlier that night. The noise carried through the heating ducts. It made sense that the sound would travel both ways.
Greg's head bobbed over my cock until he teased out another load, which he swallowed with delight.
I loved the sex, but I wasn't into kissing as Greg was. He understood that I considered myself straight. Now that I was sober, I downplayed the encounter, telling Greg this incident was to be the exception, not the norm. We couldn't maintain an affair under the same roof as Greg's husband, Fritz. Greg nodded in agreement, but he had the slight smile of someone who knows something you don't know.
We said our good nights. Greg had a shower and snuck back into Fritz's bed. I fell back in my own bed, splayed naked across the mattress. With my exhaustion from this hot sex and a fatigue brought on by the alcohol I drank earlier in the evening, I fell unconscious quickly.
The next morning, I woke with wood and no regrets. I had been dreaming of Greg. If only he was in my bed that moment, I would enjoy all the relief a morning cocksucker can bring. I remembered my words of the night before. I told Greg that we could not continue fucking around with Fritz living here. It was the smart move.
Fritz was older than Greg, perhaps sixty or sixty-five to his husband's fifty. Despite the age difference, Fritz was definitely the stronger and more masculine of the couple. He was short and stout and kept his hair in a brush cut. While Greg assumed the more domestic duties, like cleaning and cooking, Fritz performed the traditional manly duties, tinkering in the workshop, working in the garage and maintaining the yard. He was a grumpy fellow and I usually steered clear of him to avoid his negativity. One thing could be said about old Fritz however. He was still a virile man. As I said, I could hear Fritz fucking Greg senseless through the pipes. This happened three times a night, three days a week. I hope I'm as potent when I hit his age.
It was early to be up on a Saturday morning. Nine o'clock. I dressed and as usual went out to the dining room for my breakfast (I paid both room and board). Greg was the cook and he was wearing a housecoat again, a different one this time; I happened to know the one he wore last night had cum on it from both Fritz and me. Greg was setting breakfast, bacon and eggs, on the table in my customary spot.
Our eyes met across the room.
I took the sight of Greg in. He had salt and pepper hair and he was tall and lean with just a bit of a sagging belly. His housecoat covered much, but it was a shorter robe than he had been wearing last night and it showed off more of his surprisingly shapely legs.
My voice was thick when I spoke. "Where's Fritz?"
Not good morning, or nice to see you, just where's Fritz.
His answer was breathy. "He's raking the lawn."
I went to the window and looked out. From the look of it, Fritz had just started work. I turned away from the glass and strode straight over to Greg and despite my earlier reservations took him in my arms and kissed him passionately on the lips. Later, I would not know where that came from. Then my hands were all over him and his all over me. I had him out of his housecoat before he could get my shirt off. My erection pressed against my pants as a naked man unfastened them and pulled them down out of the way for what we needed to do. In a second, we were both naked, our discarded clothing on the floor and table around us.
I felt Greg's ass as we continued French kissing ardently. I already knew that Greg's mouth could produce a powerful suction from the delicious blowjob he gave me the night before and even just thinking about that increased my excitement.
"Where do you want it?" I whispered into Greg's ear.
"My ass," he said. "Please take my ass!"
That's all I needed. I stood back from Greg and spun him around so I could bend him over the dining room table. Greg spread his housecoat over the table in front of him. I glanced at the window and saw Fritz at the far end of the yard bagging some leaves.
"Please take me," Greg said. There was so much want in his voice, I thought he was going to weep.
