Jack had left his front door open for me.
Like he'd instructed me, I entered the front door quietly, and found the living room without much trouble. He was sitting on his couch waiting for me, drinking a beer. The open bottle rested in one hand against his thigh.
"Hey, Marc," he said, as he stood. "I'm glad you could make it tonight," he added with a smile.
He shook my hand with a firm grip.
"Do you want a beer?" he asked.
"That'd be great," I said, following him as he walked to the kitchen.
Jack was not quite as tall as I was, but very good looking in a boyish sort of way. Maybe a few years older than me. His body seemed tight and defined in his t-shirt and jeans, and he moved with an athletic grace.
From the time I'd met him three weeks ago, he'd never been quite what I expected. And tonight he was all business. But I suppose that he'd waited a long time for this.
He wanted to get to it.
He handed me the beer and started in with the same slick amicable banter that was usual to our encounters. Jack was a consummate closer, but he chatted as if oblivious to the reason for my being there. I engaged in his small talk, but after a few minutes I wanted to get to the point.
"So," I asked finally, "Are we still doing this?"
"I hope so," he said with certainty.
"What do you want me to do?" I queried.
"My wife is upstairs. We can change in the guestroom. Once we go inside my bedroom, you can't make a sound, because she has a blindfold on."
I nodded my understanding and downed the rest of my bottle of beer in one chug.
"Let's rock and roll," I said to him, grinning.
He smiled back at me and indicated that I should follow him upstairs.
Inside the guest bedroom, Jack wasted no time in taking off his shoes and socks. I slipped my shoes and socks off as well and watched him as he turned to me and silently peeled off his t-shirt. Once bare-chested, he slid his jeans down over his hips till they rested around his ankles. Underneath he was wearing a pair of white athletic briefs. Then he stepped out of the jeans.
We had confided in each other about our sexual feelings for other men on the occasions that we'd met in the bar. Or at least he'd confided in me and I hadn't given him any reason to think I thought any differently. He'd told me that he'd wanted to try sex with a man, but he had never before talked about it with another guy.
I'd had sex with a man, so I guessed it all added up somehow.
I unashamedly looked over his body with admiration. As a general rule I just didn't find other men attractive, but it was a part of what had drawn me to him. He had an inner vulnerability that he masked normally, underneath his handsome stockbroker power player exterior. Like a man who does it all to compensate for low self-esteem. His nearly naked body was athletic. The toned musculature of a man that had been a high school jock and who had worked hard to keep himself in shape through his twenties and now in his thirties.
Not unlike me.
He watched me watching him, and a blush crept up his cheeks. The attention I was paying to him made his dick grow harder in his briefs. His cock was now clearly silhouetted against the white fabric: it was short and wide.
I admired him in silence, Jack just standing there, arms folded nervously across his chest. No longer the closer. No longer so confident.
I grinned at him and decided to give him a show of my own. I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, then pulling it off so that Jack had a nice view of my full arms and chest, chiseled and buffed from my time in the service and years of hard work in the gym. His eyes roved over my thick biceps and powerful shoulders. And his grin told me he liked what he saw. I shamelessly exposed the rest of my flesh to his eyes as I also peeled off the very tight, white tank top I was wearing as an undershirt. That was when he got a glimpse of my chiseled six-pack. His smile grew even wider as I slowly undid my belt, allowing my jeans to slip down to the floor. Unlike Jack, I was wearing a pair of my usual silken boxers, so my limp dick was not yet visible.
All he could see was the as yet undefined, but growing, bulge of my package.
Jack was a man's man in most respects, but I was broader, thicker, slightly taller and more heavily muscled. Stepping out of the jeans now lying in a heap around my feet, I walked over to him and seized by a sudden urge, took his head in my strong hands and bent my mouth to his.
His response was slightly one of shock, but then his mouth opened to mine and he kissed me back passionately. His arms encircled my torso, holding me tightly to him. I could feel his dick near mine. The heat from our thighs radiating powerfully outward.
When with our kiss complete, I pulled away from him.
"I want to fuck your wife now," I murmured, my mouth still close to his.
"Okay," he said, like a schoolgirl with a crush.
He started to walk into the other room.
"Wait a minute," I said not letting him get very far.
He stood there looking at me with confusion. I turned him around to face me, and knelt down in front of him. With my two hands I pulled down his tighty whities. His cock fell out before my eyes. Growing to full harness there before me. It wasn't very often that I found myself in the position of a bitch on her knees, so it made me appreciate all over again how the women I fucked must feel.
I gave his cock an experimental tug, and it jerked in my hand. He groaned as I held him in my grip. The possibilities ran through my mind, but I let go of him and stood up.
"All right," I told him, "We can go now."
