My “think time” had been very productive. I knew pretty much what I wanted, and how I wanted things to play out. We never are the complete Masters of our Fate, but I did believe that I knew where we were headed, Chris and me. Deep in thought until the wee hours, I finally just crashed. I woke early and had showered and was ready for the day when Chris emerged. We cleaned everything to erase any telltale evidence that I had been there for the past two nights. Chris was still feeling a bit of the hangover and headache and decided that he was going to head off to the gym for a workout before making the drive to join the family. His wife, Marilyn, had called during our big clean-up and had given him all the instructions of all the things that he needed to bring. I helped him load the car. Chris headed off to the gym and I left. It was Christmas Eve: Let the festivities begin! It was late afternoon on Christmas Day, and the frantic early morning family activities were winding down. The kids were quietly playing. My wife was busy in the kitchen with her sister and brother-in-law. When the phone rang, I jumped, certain that it would be Chris. And it was. Sort of: it was Marilyn, Chris’s wife, and the gals chatted about the festivities, before my wife yelled out to me that Marilyn wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas. I picked up the phone in the family room. We chatted and exchanged greetings. Chris came on the line and with the addition of his mellow baritone, my dick unfurled to a demi-semi…But no one could see that! After they hung up, my wife came to sit with me and as we shared some merlot, she handed me an envelope, and was obviously pleased with herself and the contents. I opened it. (Yes, it was Hallmark!) Tucked inside was a receipt from a rental agency in the mountains of the western part of the state. I was quizzical. She was almost giddy with her pleasure giving me the gift, saying “You guys work so hard and you never just chill out. Marilyn and I decided to give you a forced outing with nothing to do but relax!” The gift was for me and for Chris! Seldom can I say that I was speechless, but this was one of those times! She jabbered on, prodding me for a reaction. Finally, I said something like, “I guess we will just have to take some good scotch and some movies and rough it for a few days.” I tried to react by being pleased, but not as wildly ecstatic as I truly was. I threw in some lame objections, as to time off from work, checking my schedule, etc. She was overriding all of my objections by saying, “Of course, you can do it!” I kissed her on the cheek and told her that it was one of the most thoughtful gifts that I had ever received. Then I went upstairs to the bathroom and jerked off in a frenzy, the very thought of such a trip with Chris was so fucking hot: alone in a remote rural mountain cabin for five days? Damn! We were going to have uninterrupted non-stop sex the whole time! About an hour later, Chris called back just to talk with me about the trip. He had gotten the same envelope and though we were talking with the utmost of restraint, he said that he could not believe it either. Chris and I were trading comments that no one who might have been listening would be able to interpret, but ones which were highly titillating for the two of us. He was not due back until after the New Year and the titillations were doing wonders for my libido! Just before he hung up, he asked me if I would go over to their house, to make a general check of things, particularly in his basement workshop. I agreed, and within a very few minutes, I set to the task of doing as he asked. Of course, I suspected that there was nothing really to check except to explore his clue of the basement workshop. I did a quick check of things, then I went to his work shop, wondering what he had wanted me to look for in that area. I saw nothing unusual, but noticed his gym bag sitting on the floor in front of his workbench. I opened it. A little yellow post-it note was sticking to his jockstrap in the bag. On the note, there was only one little letter/symbol, the “plus” sign. For a moment, that confused me. Then it struck me that the plus might mean “to add.” I pulled the jockstrap out of the bag, oh yes, it was slightly damp, and held it to my nose. Oh yea, it had the fragrance of his man-cum, and that caused me to spring to blue steel proportions! I stripped my trousers and my shorts, and put on his damp jock. Just that action alone had me ready to blow, and with very little further encouragement, I was spurting into the pouch of his jock. I put it back in the gym bag, and went back home. “Anything exciting to report?” my wife asked. I just smiled at her, “Nope, nothing exciting.” Mid-week, my wife and I were to attend a black tie party, an annual event given by one of our suppliers. My boss and his wife, and a couple of other guys and wives were to make up a table. It was always a nice affair, sandwiched in between Christmas and the New Year’s, and we had attended for several years now. As we were getting dressed, one of our kids who had been sick all day, decided to get really sick. My wife worried about even going, but decided we were close enough and she could check in with the sitter periodically. The ballroom at the hotel was filled with the partygoers and the party mood was just right. At the end of the meal, my wife checked in with the sitter. Her frown indicated that she was not happy, and she decided that she did, indeed, need to return home to tend to our sick child. I was quite prepared to drive home, but she insisted that she would drive home by herself, and that I could get a taxi since I would likely be drinking (last year it had been nearly dawn when we got home) and with a peck on the cheek she teasingly said, “Try to get home before morning,” and off she drove into the night. On the way back to the ballroom, I glanced in the front bar and decided to pop in for a drink. It was quiet and relaxing with a tinkly piano player, and just a few men perched on the bar stools: just businessmen on the road. Been there, done that, I smiled to myself as I sort of sized up the crowd. I finished my drink, and slipped out and into the men’s room. Just as I got the flow going I was joined by a guy who chose the urinal next to mine. I recognized him as one of the drinkers at the bar, but now noticed him close up: Rather hot looking, devilishly handsome, married if the wedding band was real, and about my age. “How is the party?” he asked, without looking at me. “Going great. But getting a bit noisy,” I replied. I was now checking out his equipment, and found it to be rather impressive. He apparently did not need to relieve himself and he was clearly just fluffing. I was very impressed as he grew and showed hard and even harder as we continued just checking out each other’s hard meat. He was checking me out just as intently as I was checking him. He looked me directly in the eye and winked. “Well, if you get bored with the noise, there will be a quiet party going on in room 1516.” With that, he tucked it away, giving me a nice wide smile. Some intruders came in at that moment and by the time I had mine packed away, he was gone. I returned to the bar. He was nowhere to be seen. Should I or shouldn’t I? What the hell: no one was going to know, were they? I pushed the button and quickly found my way to room 1516. I knocked softly and the door swung open. “Come on in,” he said, “the party is just starting.” There were very few preliminaries: We both had done this before. He poured a drink without asking; I took it. We stood looking at the lights of the city, without saying much, and when we turned to face each other, the kiss was fiery electric and demanding. The clothes came off quickly but carefully as I stacked my black tie outfit on a chair, and he carefully folded his onto another chair. When we were totally naked, he took my dick in hand, and he whispered, “Damn, that is a big one! I could tell it was gonna be a beauty and I sure as hell want it!” “Go for it,” I encouraged him. I was instantly struck with the ease with which he took my (rather good sized) cock down his throat, deep throating me. This guy obviously knew what he was doing. With appreciative gurgles and moans, even with his mouth full of dick, he was treating me just fine, mighty fine indeed. I just had to reciprocate. Gravitating to the bed, we found the 69 position quickly, and Wow! what a cockfeast it was! He was very well hung, and there was a lot of meat to suck on. In the midst of it, my thoughts drifted to Chris, and his very thick but somewhat stubby cock, at least compared to this meaty monster. This guy was not going to scrape me with his teeth either, unlike Chris! We both found the hot buttons of the other, with ball sucking and cock sucking, and just the right nipple play, combined with some hot and heavy kissing. He put his hand around both cocks, slowly jacking them, and whispered in my ear, asking if I wanted to cum with him this way? I licked his ear, and said, “You can’t make me cum,” I bragged and he smiled at me. “Wanna bet?” he said, and he went down on me. The bastard was way good! He had me down fuckin’ deep in his throat, while one hand worked my nuts and pulled and tugged on my ball sac and the other probed my butt. He knew he had me, and he would not let up, no matter how much I begged, and I was begging! Yeah, begging for more, but there was little chance for him to deliver more as he took me way over the edge and did not release me until he had drunk every drop. When there was no more left to give, I looked down at him, still with my dick in his mouth and told him with admiration, “Damn Stud, you are one helluva fuckin’ good cocksucker!” I gyrated some, so that I could get closer to his equipment, but he sat up on his elbow and said to me, “Hot Dude, you’re good too; look at what you caused me to do!” His trail of semen was shining on his leg, some on the bed, and the rest glistening in the pubic hair of his crotch. He had unloaded while giving me such fantastic good head, without ever touching himself! I did a quick clean up with hot water and towels, afraid that a shower would be too revealing of my activities. “Can you come back?” he asked. “When? Later?” I asked. He chuckled, “Once a king, always a king; but once a (k)night is enough!” Yeah, I had heard that too. “Tomorrow?” he pleaded. I said I would try. He replied, “Please try.” I closed the door quietly and started to return to the party. I had to admit, a return match did sound appealing. He had told me his name, and I wanted to remember it. Adam. The first man. (Well, not the first man for me, but that would help me remember it.) I started back to the party, but suddenly had a huge mental jolt: I had been thinking how much I was going to enjoy telling all this to Chris. But then it hit me like a sledgehammer! Should I tell him? Could I tell him? What would he think? Would he think me just a slutty cock hound? Maybe I should keep this from him? Honestly, beads of worry-sweat were breaking out on my brow. I steered myself into the bar, and ordered a stiff drink. More think time was needed. Now, Scarlet, not tomorrow! Think now! Feedback: MisterEd53@hotmail.com
