Up Against the Wall

Dear Reader: This story contains homosexuality and cuckoldry without humiliation. If these subjects do not interest you, or upset you, please move on to another story. If you choose to read this one, at least don't get mad at me. I'm not Pat. This is just fiction. I made it all up.

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Have you ever been dumped by a beautiful gal you thought was crazy about you? I guess many guys have and know what I'm feeling right now. I was sitting by the pool at the club talking to a couple of friends, Tom and Carolyn, trying to get some sympathy and support.

"Rusty, you just have to accept it. You were not her type. Michele gave it her best shot and it just didn't work," said Carolyn.

"What do you mean, not her type?" I asked angrily.

"She talked to me about it. She said she had talked to you. Don't you remember what she said?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so. I couldn't understand her. She said something about me being too rough, but that's bullshit! I was never rough with her!"

"Of course you weren't," Carolyn said patiently, "that's not what she meant."

"What the hell did she mean?" I asked. Carolyn wasn't making sense.

"Look who she's dating now."

"Johnnie?" I said. "Yeah I've seen him -- kinda wimpy!"

"He's not wimpy. He could be a double for Brad Pitt! He's handsome."

"Okay, but you know what I mean. He's not ... he's not ... "

"I know exactly what you mean. He's tall and slender and clean-shaven and not hairy and he speaks softly. The opposite of you. Look at yourself. You're built like a heavyweight boxer and you move like one -- as though you're ready to defend yourself even when you're walking into the dining room. Your chest is covered with thick curly hair and you have to shave again at night if you're gonna go out because your whiskers will rub a gal's cheek raw, just like sandpaper."

"What the hell? You just described your own husband!"

Carolyn laughed and reached over lovingly to touch Tom's arm. "You're damn right I did and he turns me on and you could be his double. If I wanted to flirt with you, I could have you two macho guys pounding each other right here by the pool."

Tom laughed. "If you think I'm gonna fight a friend for your entertainment you're crazy. You flirt with anybody, baby, and I'll just turn you over my knee and spank you."

Carolyn gave him a sexy smile and said eagerly, "Is that a promise honey?"

Then she turned back to me. "But, seriously Rusty, different women are attracted to different kinds of men -- physically attracted I mean. Michele was not physically attracted to you and her way of putting that into words was to call you rough."

Then Carolyn pointed across the pool. "Look at them. You see LC and Pat over there? Now Johnnie is just like LC. Soft and gentle."

"Light in the loafers," chuckled Tom.

Carolyn responded sharply. "I don't believe that rumor at all. Not one bit! He's just a sweet, sensitive, gentle guy."

I'd heard the same rumor about LC. Never thought about it seriously. Pat was a real beauty -- the best figure around the pool in a skimpy bikini that showed off great legs and ass and -- well, just about great everything. She was from an Italian family from south Philly and her curly dark hair and sultry looks reflected it. Tom and I had often commented on her looks (when Carolyn and Michele were not around, of course).

I glanced at Tom and he was smiling. Both of us thought it better to remain silent. But it got my mind to working. What if the rumor were true? Pat might not be getting the attention she deserved. She'd married LC several years ago when she was only eighteen and he had been a senior at Penn. This hot-blooded Italian gal might be having second thoughts. Maybe ... I let my mind wander, briefly.

When Tom and Carolyn called it a day and headed off to get dressed, I wandered over to the other side of the pool.

"Hi LC. Hi Pat. Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. Have a seat," said LC.

I put my drink on the table and sat down in the shade under the big umbrella. It was not easy to keep my eyes off of Pat's body and I thought maybe she saw me looking and smiled. It happened more than once.

"Sorry about Michele," said LC. Everybody liked her.

"Yeah," I said. "Shit happens. Carolyn said I was just not her type and I guess she's right. She just wasn't attracted to me."

Pat looked at me sympathetically. "That's hard to understand."

Maybe it was my imagination, but I would swear her eyes rapidly checked out my body as we sat there.

We chatted about things in general, about the club, about happenings in San Diego. As we talked, I was somehow conscious of glances exchanged between Pat and LC. Like they were achieving some mutual understanding. I was also conscious of something else. LC was looking at my body. I had seen him do it before and had not thought seriously about it. But now, especially after talking with Tom and Carolyn, I began to wonder.

The sun was about to set, gold and orange in the clouds of the northwestern sky. We picked up our stuff and headed for the club locker rooms. LC had a locker near mine and I watched his eyes as I pulled my trunks down and stepped out of them. There it was again! Covert glances at my groin. Not to exaggerate, but I was hung pretty well -- not the biggest in the world -- but nothing to be ashamed of either. And it looked to me like LC was admiring what he saw.

We headed for the showers and as I soaped up I gave him opportunities to look. He seemed unable to keep his eyes off of me. Then turning to face him, I soaped my groin in a very obvious and deliberate manner. It was almost like hooking a fish. His eyes became frozen as I stroked back my loose foreskin and showed him the large purple head of my uncircumcised cock. He just stared at it. Even when he knew I was watching, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Wordlessly we finished our showers and dressed. We waited outside a few minutes for Pat -- who was, no doubt, blow-drying her short, curly, brunet hair. We didn't say anything at all. He knew for sure that I'd seen the lust in his eyes as he stared at my cock. Pat came out wearing a short miniskirt that, with heels, made her legs look even better than her bikini -- long and tan and shapely. She had on a tight fitting white blouse that showed off her large breasts.

"Rusty, I'm fixing a batch of spaghetti tonight and maybe some calamari. If you're not busy, would you like to join us?"

It was as if we were reading each other's minds. I could feel a tingle in my groin. There was an unspoken tension in the air and I could tell all three of us felt it.

"Sure Pat, I'd love to. I haven't had much of a night life since Michele left."

"Great," Pat said. "That's a very attractive sport shirt you have on."

As she said it she reached over as if to feel the material, but as her fingers touched it they strayed, just a bit, into the curly hair on my chest that was visible above my shirt. I always left the top button open to show a bit of chest. Her fingers seemed to linger there, and then she dropped her hand with a smile. Her movements were not lost on her husband -- he watched her intently. My pecker noticed her fingers.

When we got to their place, LC and I sipped Glenlivet, neat, on the patio as Pat bustled around in the kitchen. The window was open and she participated in our conversation. The red sauce recipe was from her mother, she said, and delicious aromas wafted out of the kitchen. When things got to a simmering point, she joined us on the patio.

"I may be Italian," she said laughing, "but those damn Scots make the best whisky of anybody. LC, be sure to get out the good Chianti for dinner -- not that cheap stuff."

Then she raised her glass in a toast. "Here's to gals and the men they choose and to hell with a gal who doesn't like a man with hair on his chest."

"Here-here," said LC, who had not even a single hair on his chest, but seemed, I thought, to admire mine.

Calamari, spaghetti with delicious red sauce, washed down with a good Chianti and finally we sat on the patio sipping Frangelico and listening to soft music. It was exactly the way I would have planned an evening of seduction for a young lady at my place. That's what I was thinking as I sat silently staring across the table at Pat's tight white blouse.

"Would you like to dance?" Pat asked me.

"I'd love to."

I got up and extended my hand. She rose and slipped easily into my arms and we danced quietly on the tiled patio to soft music. It was wonderful! Her body molded against mine, her left hand stroking the back of my neck, my right hand on her waist pulling her close, her legs straddling my right thigh with her pussy rubbing gently against me.

Her head was resting on my chest and her cheek rubbed against the curly hair she had fingered outside the club, earlier. Her eyes were closed and she breathed softly. We danced to several songs this way, wordlessly. LC watched us, it seemed with anticipation, sitting quietly at the table, sipping his drink. Pat and I were almost in a dream state.

At the edge of the patio there was a masonry wall separating the pumps servicing the pool from view. I danced Pat over that way and then danced her behind the wall, out of LC's view. I leaned her up against the wall and putting my fingers under her chin I lifted her face up to me, her eyes still closed, and kissed her softly on the lips. She took my head gently in her hands and pulled me into a stronger kiss that gradually became more passionate as our tongues stroked together.

My hands were on her ass now and I could feel no panties. I lifted her miniskirt up and caressed her ass lovingly. She raised her left knee up to my waist and I caressed her inner thigh gently -- then more passionately as my hand moved up her thigh to a warm, wet, eager pussy. I played with her for a while until I felt her hands exploring the bulge in my trousers and reaching for my zipper.

When I eased my aching cock out of my pants, she grabbed it impatiently with both hands. I was hard as a rock.

"My God, you're big," she whispered. "I've never ... ever ... Oh my God. Yes!"

I guided my cock easily into her dripping wet pussy. She moaned softly as she took it. Then holding her buttocks in my hands I began to fuck her slowly and deliberately. She was pumping eagerly at least twice for each of my strokes. We fucked this way, up against the wall, not ten feet from her husband, who was still sipping Frangelico at the patio table.

When she had her orgasm, her moans of pleasure were loud enough for her husband to hear, but she didn't seem to care. I had mine shortly after her, and again I was sure her husband heard me.

I held her there tenderly and we rested leaning against the wall. After several minutes I pulled her skirt back down and, replacing my flaccid pecker, I zipped up my pants. Then I began dancing with her again and danced her back out onto the patio. I danced her over to the table where I helped her to her seat and took mine.

"Time for some more of that great Frangelico," I said.

LC poured more of the liqueur into my glass and into Pat's.

We sat for several minutes sipping our drinks, wordlessly.

Then I said to LC, "You have a lovely place here and a very nice pool."

"Thank you," he said. "Would you like to take a dip? You look warm."

"Yes," I said. "I seem to have worked up a sweat. I'd like a dip."

"Of course," said LC. "Do you want to borrow a suit or ... "

"No," I said. "I don't need one. Will you two join me?"

Then the three of us, slowly and wordlessly, started to strip and got into the pool. I had wanted to see her naked and she was as beautiful naked as I had expected. I did not hesitate to embrace her openly as LC watched. I kissed her and caressed her lovingly and LC just watched us passively. We were drinking and moving around in the water and saying almost nothing, a loving murmur occasionally escaping Pat's lips as I caressed her.

Then, as though it were planned, Pat said, "I'd better go in and put away the stuff in the kitchen."

When she left, LC moved over to where I was standing in the pool and with a great deal of hesitation, giving me many chances to say no, he placed his hand on my thigh under the water and began slowing stroking me. When I gave no resistance he moved his hand to my groin and began to lightly massage my testicles. I was half way surprised when I felt myself developing an erection.

I got out of the water and sat on the edge of the tub with LC standing in the pool between my spread knees. He stroked my erection gently and then bending down he began to suck my cock. He used his tongue to explore under my large foreskin. He sucked me slowly and gently at first, and then he developed a steady rhythm. I put my hands on the back of his head and pushed him down until my cock hit the back of his throat and I could feel a pair of big fleshy tonsils embrace the head of my dick. My hands showed him the rhythm I liked.

I had not had a guy suck my cock since college when a bunch of us frat brothers went to a local strip club and got blowjobs in the men's room from some fags hanging out there to meet horny college guys. LC's mouth felt good -- not great -- but good. If this was the price for regular access to Pat's magnificent body, it was well worth it. She was fabulous pussy. However, I decided, after I thought about it a little more, that I didn't want to mention this to Tom.

I looked at Pat bustling around in the kitchen rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. She could easily see us through the window but she did not look -- at least I didn't see her looking. After several minutes I felt a tingling in my groin and my balls started lifting up and I pumped my second load of the evening into the husband whose wife had received the first.

We got out of the tub, dried off, and dressed. We were sitting at the table finishing the last of the Frangelico when Pat came out and sat down.

"Did you enjoy your swim?" Pat asked with a bright smile.

"We did indeed," I said.

"And did you like my spaghetti?" Pat asked.

"I loved your spaghetti," I said, enthusiastically.

"Well then, would you like come back for some more spaghetti Friday night?"

"I was afraid you'd never ask," I said, thinking that this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.