I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at my watch as I climbed into the car and settled back in the passenger seat. It was only just after three in the afternoon, but it felt a lot later. I glanced across at Andy, one of my business partners, as he slipped behind the steering wheel. His sigh of relief matched mine. The meeting we had just been too had not gone well.
"Only two more to go," I reminded him with a grin which was meant to cheer him up.
"Yeah – and let's hope that they go better than that one!" he told me, his anger barely controlled as we roared out of the car park.
We couldn't understand why the meeting had gone so badly. It was one of a series we were having with different clients. Andy was moving to another part of the business, and the meetings had been arranged so that he could introduce me as the new contact for the clients he had previously looked after.
This meeting was meant to have been one of the easiest – the client had already agreed to the change, and was someone Andy had known for a number of years. Instead, at the meeting, the client had just moaned about just about everything we had ever done for him.
"And he's let himself go – he's getting fat!" Andy suddenly exclaimed, his annoyance more than obvious.
I would have laughed, but I'm used to Andy – ever since I found out that he was gay, I've become used to his occasional outbursts, the comments that often only he can get away with. And over the last year or so, he has been more and more open with me about his life, which couldn't be more different than mine. After all, I'm married with kids, whereas he - at thirty - is a few years younger than me, lives alone, parties hard, and professes to dislike children of all ages.
"And to think that I used to fancy him!"
This time I had to laugh. I looked across at him, just catching his sideways glance. We laughed again, relaxing a little.
"So who do you fancy now?" I asked through my laughter.
At first I didn't realise that Andy had stopped laughing, that there was suddenly some tension around him again. My laughter faded away as I looked at him.
"You of course," he told me, his eyes on mine rather than on the road.
He steered the car across to the side of the road and pulled to a stop.
"You are as curious as I think you are, aren't you?" he asked, his hand slipping onto my thigh, squeezing me gently.
"Is it that obvious?" I murmured, blushing furiously.
"Let's just say I guessed," Andy told me.
But as I felt his eyes on me, I knew that he hadn't guessed everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was right that I was curious – very curious in fact. But he hadn't yet guessed that by now I only wanted to satisfy that curiosity with one man – him.
I suppose that I've been curious about other men for a good few years, but in the last two or three years the feelings have intensified to the stage where I can almost feel another man's cock in my hand instead of mine as I lay awake at night thinking about it, to where I can almost taste the cock I've never sucked but want to.
Until four months ago, I just wanted to do these things, if only once. I wanted to touch another man, to feel his cock growing, hardening, in my hand, to feel his excitement as he was feeling mine. I wanted to suck a nice hard cock – and have mine sucked in return, sucked roughly, by a man kneeling at my feet. It wasn't as if I would look at a particular man, and think that I wanted his cock, or wanted him to have mine. It was just a feeling, a feeling that was growing, was intensifying.
A feeling I knew I had to do something about – and soon.
I've known for a long time that Andy was gay. It wasn't something we talked about much, but over the years as our friendship built, he was more open about what he got up to, his feelings, the difficulties he had faced. He had even sought my advice on occasions about how he should deal with different things.
As my curiosity about other men, about being with another man, grew, Andy never really came into my thoughts. Until four months ago, there was no one specific in my mind – just a need, a growing need that I had to do something about.
But then I saw Andy naked - and everything changed.
It happened while we were away overnight on a Strategy Conference with the business, with other senior staff and managers. After the first few sessions, a group of us decided to take a swim at the Hotel's fitness club in an attempt to unwind before dinner. I was a bit late arriving at the pool, so most of the others were starting to leave by the time I arrived. Andy was still in the pool though, and we ended up swimming a few lengths together, before heading back to the changing rooms.
I automatically opened my locker, and pulled my towel out ready for a quick shower. As I stripped off my trunks, the changing room was empty apart from Andy and me. As I stood naked, my back to him, something made me glimpse at the mirror to my side.
Andy was stood naked as well, looking at me. As I looked at him in the mirror, I could sense his eyes on me. I'm quite lean, but firmly muscled, and I could feel his eyes raking down my back and legs, feel them staring at my firm ass.
I looked back at him through the mirror, knowing that he couldn't see me looking in his direction. He was thicker set than I'd imagined, his chest and legs heavily muscled, his belly almost flat. But it was his cock that I was drawn to. It hung heavily over his balls, the tip partially exposed as his skin peeled back. At first, I thought that he looked as if he might be getting an erection – but then I realised it was the thickness of his cock, his length and the way it curved over his tight balls, that gave that impression.
I stared at him for what seemed like an age, but which was probably only a few seconds, unable to move, willing him to catch me looking at him, willing his twitching cock to rise. But it was then that I realised that my own cock was erect – and not just normally erect. When I glanced down, I don't think I'd ever seen my cock as hard or as long or as thick as it was then.
