Meeting Fran

Frank laughs loudly at something I say. It's deep, husky, and inexplicably sexy. My toes tingle inside my dress socks. Alexandra beams at us both - the heavily charged undercurrent between Frank and I seemingly lost on her -- obviously pleased that I'm getting along so well with her father.

"This is wonderful" she smiles, her fingers lacing with mine under the table as Frank's eyes meet mine, knowing. My cock thickens inside my jeans, if she feels it, she doesn't react.

We're sitting on the terrace in the mid-afternoon sun. Alexandra's mother is telling a story about the neighbors complete with condemnatory can you imagine? Apparently, Alexandra can imagine and she's as outraged as her mother. She unwinds her fingers from mine and reaches for her glass. I readjust my position on the chair to get a better view of Frank's long hairy legs under the table.

By the time we get to our room the pressure in my balls is intolerable. I kiss Alexandra's perfumed neck and press myself against her so she can understand the urgency of my need. She giggles playfully but pushes me away decisively, telling me we needed to unpack.

It takes me less than five minutes. Alexandra manages to unwrap and hang one cocktail dress in that time.

"That went really well," she says, and for a moment I think she's referring to my speedy unpacking. "They like you."

I make an attempt to help her, playfully suggesting we should shower together to 'freshen up.' Instead, I find myself showering alone and within minutes I'm stroking my rigid cock furiously. Unbidden, I think of Frank's laugh, the mounds of his chest in the plaid shirt he was wearing, the dark thick downy hairs on his legs down to feet that looked like they were on the end of regular pedicures. I come hard and quick, panting like a marathon runner, watching cum spurt between my feet.

Dinner reservations are at a Continental restaurant near the beach. Alexandra looks beautiful in the cocktail dress but there's something about the way she's taking cues from her mother that unsettles me. There are a few moments like this between us where she's unrecognizable. Frank is wearing jeans, a white button-down shirt and black flip-flops. He looks sexy and relaxed. He talks to us about his plans for the restaurant, which he is looking to buy with the money he got when he was laid off from a major Investment company last year. It's something he's obviously passionate about -- his eyes sparkle and his strong hands gesticulate for emphasis. Andrea and Alexandra appear to have lost interest in what he's saying and suddenly his attention is focussed solely on me. He scoots his chair closer, our knees touch and stay touching.

After dinner, Frank insists we walk back to the house. Both women complain about the distance and about walking in heels and ridiculousness of it. An amusing standoff follows. I suggest a walk sounds perfect, what with the soft breeze and the sound of the sea lapping the shore.

"Suit yourself" Alexandra's petulance grates on me. Frank hails the ladies a cab and I take a moment to appreciate how good his bubble butt looks in those jeans when he leans forward to give the driver directions. Alexandra and I share a terse kiss, and then the cab pulls away leaving Frank and I alone together.

Five minutes later, we're on a mattress on the floor in his friend's apartment (which, as the only piece of furniture in the room, raises some questions). Our tongues clash in an awkward but intense kiss. My feet are trapped between his and my cock is in danger of jumping the gun inside my shorts. Unbuttoning his shirt is more challenging than it should be. I break the kiss so I can focus on that, but his lips assault my neck heatedly and my fingers struggle all the same.

Frank's chest is covered in thick dark fur -- there's a lot more grey here than on his head. His nipples are pink and pointy, trying to poke out from the dense hair surrounding them. I help him pull his arms out of the shirt and he pulls me back in for another kiss. We both moan and flex our thick spit-soaked tongues. The saliva strings between our lips as I pull them from his mouth to smother his hairy chest with kisses. I'm delighted with the way his body arches when I push my tongue onto one of his pointy nipples, so I go for full-assault, bathing the tip and then pulling it into my mouth to suckle. Frank's thick fingers grip my head and I feel the heat from the soles of his feet as he rubs them on my feet.

I wedge a thigh between his legs and he immediately pushes against it. I feel the pulse of his erection even through the thick fabric of his jeans and the underwear underneath. I gently rub my face in his broad chest and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. We pull apart and finish undressing. Our eyes seize upon every inch of exposed flesh. I watch him undo his jeans while I cross my arms across my torso and pull my t-shirt over my head. In the few moments my head is caught in the fabric, he's kicked his jeans off and now slides his boxers down his thighs.

Frank's cock points to the right. It's of average size but the head is prominent and beautifully shaped. I keep my eyes on it while hurriedly removing my shorts and briefs in one, thankfully fluid, move. Frank's hand slides up my arm and I lean forward into the kiss he's offering before manoeuvring my body between his open legs.

It's been over five years since I sucked a cock. A frat brother and I indulged in the guilty pleasure from time to time. For a moment I pause -- the heat emanating from his crotch, and the manly but pleasant scent of his genitals bathing my senses -- I wait to feel guilt now but I don't. Frank pushes his hips upward and I sweep my tongue along the underside of his hard cock as it pulses and lifts full of life.

I suck Frank's cock eagerly, savouring the taste and texture of it as precum and saliva mix to aide the rhythm of my strokes. I let his moans and his hands guide me up and down the wide shaft to the base. At the top, my tongue swirls around the wet tip, and then I unclench my jaw and slide him down my throat until he dark curls of his pubes tickle my nose.

There's no warning. I'm halfway down when his cock convulses. I pull back just as the first rope of cum flies out of the slit and paints my sweaty chest.

He doesn't cum a lot, two spurts and then a trickle.

I slip my lips around his cock as it begins to deflate. He tastes interesting, but I don't remember what my frat brother tasted like and I've never tasted my own. This may well be what all cum tastes like. I reach between my legs and grip myself. I've been on the brink and a couple of hard tugs is all it takes. I cum a lot more than him, moaning around his spent dick and making a mess between his legs.

We've found a towel in the bathroom and use it to clean some of the evidence off our bodies. I want to ask him about the mattress but instead, I ask, "How long is the walk back?"

"We'll get a cab. It's too far to walk."