Twenty Minutes

To Graham, who always gets at least twenty minutes from me.

It seems it's every man's complaint about sex; he just wants to be left in peace and quiet for those twenty minutes of bliss after he's shot his bolt, but the woman never seems to understand.

It begins when his last drops of cum have been spent and his limp dick slips from her squelchy pussy and it ends when his hormone levels recover their normal balance. The question is: why is this the time the woman chooses to have an in-depth discussion of their relationship? The chances are that in the hours preceding sex he has done everything he knows to charm her and create an erotic atmosphere. When in bed, he has used all his knowledge, skill and energy to relax her, arouse her, pleasure her and, hopefully, satisfy her. If actions speak louder than words, then he has painted her name in bright red letters on the largest billboard in town.

So how come she can't have the grace to let him spend his twenty minutes of bliss in peace and quiet? Does he really have to listen to all her questions and, when inevitably he doesn't find a satisfactory answer, be accused of not caring and only wanting to talk to her when he wants to fuck her? After all, it is only twenty minutes and then he will be back to his normal attentive self again.

It was exactly like that for Rodney. Every girlfriend he ever took to bed, and there were lots, would somehow interrupt his twenty minutes of bliss. No matter how much she seemed to enjoy the sex, she would skip out of bed, visit the bathroom, then return and want to discuss the relationship, just as he was drifting off into those moments of perfect relaxation.

It even happened on the one occasion he had sex with a married couple. He and the husband had both fucked the wife and, from the way she'd yelled with pleasure, Rodney expected she would collapse in an exhausted heap. But it wasn't to be. She scampered off to the bathroom and when she returned she sat heavily on the bed beside Rodney.

'What do you think about the relationship I have with my husband?' she asked.

As Rodney grew older, he began to think about sex with another man. He even masturbated whilst visualising what might happen. For a long time he dismissed it as just a fantasy and put it to the back of his mind. (The thought did occur to him that, after sex with another man, at least he would be able to have twenty minutes of uninterrupted bliss.)

One day Rodney met a man who seemed a little different. The man was attractive and very masculine and Rodney took a liking to him. Their conversations often drifted to intimate subjects and Rodney started to wonder about the man's intentions. His homosexual fantasy returned to his thoughts and he began to masturbate whilst imagining himself with his new friend. Although he didn't quite realise it, Rodney was being slowly seduced.

Sure enough, the day arrived when the man made his move and propositioned Rodney for sex. Although he pretended to be reluctant, Rodney, who was never one to miss out on a new sexual experience, was more than happy to go along with the idea.

The man turned out to be a careful and considerate lover. The 'virgin' Rodney experienced a multitude of new sensations as the man guided him through the in's and out's of man-to-man sex. The man used his hands skillfully on Rodney's body and took him as if he were a woman.

When their orgasms were finally over, the man lay back in contentment. Rodney was about to do the same until he realised there was something very wet and sticky on his stomach, between his legs and beneath him. There was no way he could relax like that so he went off to the bathroom.

Rodney cleaned himself up, amazed at the amount of milky fluid that was drying quickly on his body. He couldn't help but wonder about what had happened. The man had a much fitter body than his and, more importantly, a much bigger cock. It hadn't mattered at the time but now Rodney began to feel a little insecure about himself. He'd done his best to respond to the man but he wondered if he'd really pleased him enough. Perhaps he'd been too passive and the man was disappointed in him. He realised that his own pleasure must have been very obvious for anyone to see; after all, hadn't he just asked the man to fuck him harder and faster. But, what if the man thought he was really gay?

Rodney went back into the bedroom and sat down noisily on the side of the bed next to the resting man. He gripped his arm and the man opened an eye.

'I really have to talk to you about our relationship...' said Rodney.