Football Match

Again, I was a little thrown by his bluntness but I smiled and shook my head. "That would be too much of an invasion. No matter how desperate I was for sex, that'd be a step too far."

He nodded. "But you'd suck a guy's cock?"

At Guy's use of the word 'cock' I found myself glancing down from his face to the front his blue underwear. Instead of his genitals making an indistinct mound in the material as they had a few minutes' earlier, his member was now clearly visible, looking slightly swollen and more substantial as it made a discernible rod. The front pouch of his briefs was too small to contain his developing organ and was stretched so far outwards that dense bushes of his thick, wiry pubic hair spilled outwards from both sides.

I looked back up to his eyes and saw that he was watching me intently, obviously aware that I'd just, however furtively, taken a look at the shape he was making inside his underwear.

I replied: "In the right circumstances, I don't think it would be that unpleasant. That's all I'm saying. It's not something I'd seek out."

He nodded and finished off his drink. Then he asked, "And the right circumstances would mean that the other guy would have to suck you off?"

"Well, perhaps..."

He smiled, standing up to refill his glass. "But not definitely...?"

His bulge was unquestionably larger than it had been when he'd first hitched his jeans down. Evidently he enjoyed talking about sex, even gay sex, and was becoming aroused by our conversation.

He poured himself another very generous measure and then came over to fill my glass. I saw that the head of his cock, a fat mushroom shape pushed downward off to the side of his large balls, was visible pressing against the thin material of his briefs.

He stood in front of me as I sat on the edge of my bed, refilling my half-empty glass up to the brim. The bulge of his crotch was in front of my face and I couldn't help but stare at it, fascinated, as his cock twitched and lengthened a little inside them. A bead of liquid oozed from the bulbous head and made a dark blue circle on his underwear. I was sure I could smell him -- a sharp, acrid odour, faintly reminiscent of a urinal, but with a distinct layering of something more musky and sexual.

He asked, "Do you like it?"

I looked up at his face. "What?"

"The whisky." He smiled and I nodded appreciatively.

Having filled my glass, he returned to put the bottle on the chest of drawers. I noticed that his briefs were stretched tightly across the cheeks of his arse and they looked round and firm in their confines. Picking up his glass again, he sat down again on his bed with his back against the headboard.

He grinned over at me. "So you didn't answer my question. Would you expect a blowjob in return if you gave a guy a blowjob?"

He took another swig of whisky and moved his leg aside to make the rising mound in his underwear even more obvious, all the while having his eyes firmly locked on mine.

I chuckled. "I can't help but notice, Guy, that you seem to be rather enjoying this conversation..." I glanced towards his briefs as if explanation were necessary.

He said: "Mate. Blowjobs have always been pretty much my favourite thing as far as sex goes. So even talking about them gets me turned on."

I smiled.

He went on: "Is it freaking you out? Do you want me to put my jeans back on?"

"No, of course not!" I laughed. "As long as you don't feel uncomfortable..."

He shrugged. "Doesn't bother me in the slightest. But then I shared a pretty cramped room with three other blokes on the rig."

He took another gulp of his drink and then persisted with his line of questioning. "So, come on, you didn't answer me. Would you want a blowjob in return?"

I swirled my whisky and watched it steady itself in the glass. I hadn't wanted to reveal anything so personal but I could see that he'd back me -- or perhaps I'd backed myself -- into a corner.

"After my first few girlfriends at college," I explained, "I realised that blowjobs weren't going to be something which I enjoyed. I've never really liked the sensation of someone's mouth... down there..."

Guy laughed quite loudly. "Jesus! I never thought I'd ever hear a guy say that!"

I smiled at him and shrugged. "I know! It's just a weird peculiarity I have. Pretty much every woman I've ever been with -- especially Linda, my ex-wife -- has found it quite a relief when I've told them."

He laughed again. "I bet they have!"

"So the answer's 'no'. I wouldn't want a blowjob in return for giving one. That's not to say I'm in any hurry to give one, of course!"

He chuckled and knocked back another swig of his drink. After he'd swallowed it with an appreciative sigh, he said, "I don't know how any guy can fail to like having his cock sucked. I mean, the feel of a woman's mouth sliding up and down your length, nibbling at your bell-end with her tongue, sucking at your slit... oh God!"

He reached down and adjusted his cock which had grown hard enough to make a tent in his briefs. He pushed it to one side, up towards his left hip, and it continued lengthening and thickening as though enjoying its new freedom. The head had hardened into a fat helmet and an ooze of sticky liquid dribbled onto the material of his underpants.

"Sorry about this, mate," he went on, smiling a little sheepishly. "It must be about a year since I managed to persuade a woman to suck me off... my knackers are aching for some action..."

His balls did indeed look large and ripe as they pressed like a couple of swollen plums against his underwear, as if ready to explode in a rush of pent-up semen.

"You really have no problem with me having a hard-on like this, do you?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't bother me at all, Guy. Don't worry about it."

I was only partially lying. It didn't particularly bother me to have to look at another man's erection in his underwear: it wasn't something I would have ever sought out, but now that it was in front of me, I can't say that I found it shockingly offensive. But from a social point of view, it did seem odd to have this near-stranger -- my son's friend's dad -- sprawled out in front of me like this. In that sense, I suppose I was a little bothered by it.

Guy accepted my lie and nodded.

"It's just that... well... I'm pretty well-endowed, and some blokes find it a bit... you know... intimidating..."

He grinned at me like he'd just elicited some kind of challenge.

His cock was, indeed, impressive and it was obvious that he enjoyed showing it off in some sort of alpha-male swagger. But he was naive to assume that, just because I preferred to conceal myself within the folds of my underwear, I was somehow afraid that I could not live up to whatever gauntlet he felt he was laying down for me.

I said, "Don't worry, Guy. I'm not intimated by you."

He smiled and nonchalantly, perhaps even unconsciously, stroked his fingers back and forth along the hard rod of his cock inside his briefs, coaxing it to lengthen still further and to ooze a large wet patch on the fabric.

"This conversation goes no further," he declared. "None of this."

I smiled. "Of course not. I'd taken that as read."

Becoming aware of the masturbatory actions of his fingers, Guy quickly withdrew his hand from his now fully-engorged cock, blushed a little and said, apologetically, "Jesus, mate! I must be more horny than I thought. It's been way too long since I've been with a woman."

"How long has it been?"

"I dunno... sometime in the spring. Went on a few dates with a bird from over near Corby. She let me fuck her but wouldn't blow me. No action since then."

"Only your hand?" I suggested.

He smiled. "Yeah but that gets pretty boring, doesn't it? I mean it's fine when you're a kid but once you've had the real thing..."

I was thankful that I was, it seemed, far more self-sufficient with regards to my sexual needs than Guy was. I'd had an alarmingly high sex drive since adolescence and found that I needed a far more regular means of release than even my most sexually voracious girlfriends could keep up with. I had therefore managed to find nocturnal employment on a fairly constant basis for my right hand and had, on the whole, hugely enjoyed it.

"When was your last time with a woman?" Guy asked.

"Further back than yours. Last year, sometime during the summer."

"Jesus!" he exclaimed incredulously. "Your nuts must be ready to burst!"

He glanced at my boxer shorts, as though expecting to see my bloated testicles pulsating angrily through the fly.

I shrugged. "I get by."

"Your hand?"

"Occasionally," I conceded, playing down what was an almost nightly activity beneath my duvet and a regular diversion in the bathroom.

"You still enjoy it?"

"A lot more than you evidently."

He took a gulp of his drink, considering my statement. Having swallowed it he asked, "But don't you find it boring? I mean, just lying there whacking your dick on your own?"

I chuckled. "Not really. I prefer being with a woman, of course, but my hand makes a very enjoyable substitute."

He seemed to find this funny. "So you don't like the feel of a woman's mouth on your cock, but you enjoy your own hand?"

I nodded and smiled. "Someone else's hand is better, of course."

He laughed even louder. "Ah... so that's it! That's what you could get in return for giving a guy a blowjob!"

I shook my head with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I don't think so."

He went on, "Most blokes would see that as a pretty good deal: getting their cocks sucked for jerking a guy off. If ever you got a job on a rig, mate, you'd have a line of guys with hard-ons queuing up at your bunk!"

I laughed back. "I wouldn't want a line of guys at my bunk, thank you very much! Like I said earlier, this isn't something I'd seek out. It'd just be... you know... if the circumstances were such that --"

"What?" he interrupted. "Like if a guy was desperate for sex and you were too? That kind of thing?"

I considered. "Well... I suppose so..."

He smiled, reaching down to stroke his erection again. "Like the way I'm desperate for a blowjob and you've only had your own hand tossing your dick off for over a year? That kind of thing?"

His cock-head throbbed in response to the caress of his fingers along the shaft in his underwear and I noticed that the damp circle at the tip of it had grown considerably.

I had assumed up until this point that we had been discussing hypothetical scenarios; exploring possibilities which I might find myself in if I was to, say, end up in prison or some other environment where I would be deprived the company of women. I was surprised -- a little shocked, even -- that he would suggest that the two of us might trade sexual acts with each other.

I asked, trying not to allow my astonishment to show itself in my voice, "Are you serious, Guy?"

His eyes, as well as the way he was rubbing at his engorged organ, told me that he was.

He said, "If I was, would you be up for it?"

I smiled at him and thought that a bit of context might bring things back into perspective.

"Guy -- you're suggesting that the two of us, divorced straight men who only know each other because our sons are taking the same subjects at college, might agree, on finding ourselves sharing a room, to have gay sex together?"

He shrugged and grunted dismissively. "There'd be nothing gay about it. No kissing. No saying 'I love you' or any of that crap. Just the two of us... well..."

"Trading favours?"

He nodded, smiling. "Exactly!"

"I suck you off and then you masturbate me?"

"I'm not saying that I've thought this through," he replied, his smile broadening into a mischievous smirk. "But if we position it right, I reckon we could do it at the same time. Time it so we shoot together... you know..."

I had to make it clear that this wasn't going to happen before he became so explicit with me that it would be impossible for us to be comfortable around each other the next day.

"Look, Guy," I said gently. "I'm flattered, but really --"

"Have a think about it," he interrupted me, jumping off the bed. He started pulling his jeans back on. "I'll say goodnight to the lads. I bet they're trying to find porn on the telly."

Pushing his large cock with difficulty into the tight confines of his jeans, he smirked over at me. "If the answer's 'no', then we treat like it was a joke and we forget about it. If the answer's 'yes' then we both get to empty our nuts and then we forget about it. No worries either way."

He gulped down the last of his whisky and then let himself out of the room.

I sat on the bed, sipping at my own drink and wondering what to do.

While I didn't feel sexually excited at the prospect of having a sexual encounter with Guy, and was certainly in no way aroused by the scenario he'd spelled out, I was, nevertheless, intrigued by the notion of what it would be like to take his large organ into my mouth. How would it taste as it oozed so copiously onto my tongue? How would it feel, swelling and throbbing against my throat?

I was also, I admit, interested by the idea of how it would feel for him to masturbate me. He had large, rough-looking hands but I imagined that, as a man himself, he would understand how to handle a cock gently but firmly and would know the right way to stimulate and tease it. Even if he was a brash and clumsy as he appeared, it would be so nice to feel someone else's fingers down there after so long, surprising me in ways that my own hand no longer can.

I finished my drink in one last swig and walked over to the bathroom.

Staring in the mirror above the toilet as I pissed into the bowl, I mulled the implications of Guy's suggestion over in my mind. It was all very well getting drunk together and trading sexual acts in the heat of an ill-advised moment, but what about afterwards? What about the next day at the match; how would we behave in each other's company? What if Jake or Simon asked was up between us? And what about every time I saw Guy outside of the school gates when I was picking Jake up? Or next time Jake asked if we could take Simon and his dad to watch another game?

Brushing my teeth, I decided that it would be best just write this off as the whisky talking and try to forget about it. Make a mental note to book two single rooms for us dads if we were to ever go to another match together. Update my details on the dating website I use when we got back home to erase the memory that I'd been desperate enough to seriously consider agreeing to have sex with my son's friend's father.

Finishing up, I switched off the light in the bathroom and walked over to my bed. I was making the right choice. I was sure of it.

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Next story: What Lurks Beneath

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