A Man in My Bed

"Mmm," he moaned again, through the mechanical pounding of his own tireless cock, revelling in its self-pleasure. "Mmm..."

I withdrew my finger a couple of inches, and then pushed it back in; repeating the movement over and over and quickening my pace. His eyes told me how much he was enjoying the sensation of being anally fingered while he was gorging on his cock, his mouth too full being frantically fucked for him to speak.

I pulled my finger out of him and bent over to sniff in front of his face so he could see me. It was heavy with the crude, animalistic bite of his arse and I smiled at him as I appreciated it fully, licking it from fingernail to knuckle, as his cock pumped so fast its motion was piston-like back and forth from his lips.

Then I leaned down and tasted him properly, applying my lips around his convulsing hole and pushing my tongue into him. His taste was exquisite: so much stronger and more potent because of how splayed his cheeks were and how close I could get to him. I worked my tongue deep into his clasping rectum, sucking at his backside as vigorously and noisily as he was sucking on the jackhammer pounding of his own thrusting organ.

I pulled away from him and looked at his face, his eyes wide and his mouth being brutally assaulted by the frantic blur that was his cock.

I said, "I want to fuck you like this, Bradley."

I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but somehow I was determined to squat over him and work my painfully hard cock into his throbbing arsehole.

At first he grinned at me eagerly, seemingly desperate to have me mount him like that, but then his smile abruptly vanished and his eyes widened as if in shock and I wondered how I might have offended him.

His cock kept thrusting, uncontrollably slamming in and out of his mouth, the thickened shaft looking slick and wet and curiously streaked in goo. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to swallow what he was producing and then, like a pan of milk boiling over, his mouth overflowed with a bubbling deluge of foamy white torrents. He kept staring at me, wide-eyed, and I realised I was looking at the frothy mass of Bradley's erupting semen: a load so plentiful that what he couldn't swallow his hammering cock was churning up in his mouth into an abundant white lather.

I could hardly believe he'd allowed himself to reach orgasm. I was fascinated by what I was seeing – how his cock was frantically self-pollinating his own gaping mouth with the ceaseless outpouring of his own thick white seed, and how his climax was so abundant it was trickling down his cheeks and chin like the lava from a volcanic eruption – but I was disappointed that this might represent the end of our sex.

Bradley's eyes remained fixed on mine, gawping at me in shock, as his balls spasmed in rapid contractions and his arsehole heaved between gaping open and clamping itself tightly shut. Still his cock kept driving in and out, its throbbing stem by now streaked with the thick white froth of his semen while messy, glutinous gobs splattered with each thrust onto his cheeks and chin and dribbled down his neck.

Finally, the bobbing of his Adam's apple slowed as his orgasm subsided, as did the movement of the swollen shaft of his self-gratified organ. In time, he withdrew it from his mouth, still oozing his fluid which was a much starker white colour than mine, and I reached down and angled his cock towards me so I could lick some of his seed as it seeped from his slit.

It tasted strongly alkaline – like soda water but rather more bitter – and I smiled at him as I lapped the dribbles from his cock-head. He directed his shaft back to his own mouth and drank some more of the ooze for himself, and then pushed it back towards me so that we could both feed on it at the same time. When his balls were empty and the pumping flow of his semen had dried up, he turned to kiss me and I probed his mouth with my tongue, eager to taste inside it the frothy, acrid remnants of his own climax.

Once his cock was starting to lose its stiffness, he disentangled himself from the position he'd been in and we sat back against the headboard together. He wiped himself down using my box of bedside tissues as he caught his breath.

"I'm sorry it went off like that, Rob," he said eventually.

I smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad the prospect of me fucking you had such a profound effect."

He smiled back at me, clearly appreciating the conciliatory approach I was taking.

I was actually feeling quite peeved: I was still rock hard and here was my first real male lover sitting alongside me, spent. I'd been hoping to get a taste of male-on-male anal sex in at least one of its variants, or at the very least get deeply rimmed by him, before the night was out.

"I normally know when I'm going to cum and can hold it off," he went on, "but this one just crept up on me out of the blue. One second I was getting ready for you to get on top of me, the next... well... it was like I was churning butter."

"I've never seen semen froth up like that before," I said.

"Neither have I," he admitted with a grin.

I got up from the bed. "Tell you what – I'll pour us both another couple of drinks."

I took our glasses back down the kitchen and refilled them from the fridge. It felt wonderfully decadent to be walking around naked and aroused in the house. Once Jake went off to university next September, I could do this every night if I so desired. I was sure the novelty would quickly wear off.

We lay chatting on the bed for a while, drinking our wine and beer, and I was surprised at how nice it felt to be like that with him: just lying next to each other naked, his cock floppy and mine still semi-hard, talking and laughing and having so few reservations around one another.

When he'd finished his beer, I suggested that we turn in.

He looked surprised. "But you didn't have your turn."

I shrugged. "I'm not inconsiderate enough to insist on having a turn, Bradley. I know that you're probably not feeling at all horny now."

He grinned. "Once we get going, mate, I'll soon be well up for it. I can still manage more than once a night if I'm in the right mood."

"Well, so can I," I agreed, my cock quickly hardening again at the prospect of some action. I had been expecting to have to attend to it in the bathroom once Bradley was asleep.

He got up from where he was lying against the headboard and went to his trousers where he fished out a sachet of a clear liquid from the pocket. He applied it to his backside and then got onto all fours in the middle of the bed.

"You like it doggy style, then, Rob?" he grinned.

"I think so," I replied, getting up. "I've never actually done it, remember."

"Well, let's find out," he teased, wiggling his bum towards me, the lower part of his cleft daubed with gobs of the gooey liquid he'd used to smooth my passage.

I reached into the drawer of my bedside cabinet and pulled out a box of condoms.

"U size," he laughed when he saw them. "I use those too! Bloody difficult to find, though."

I quickly rolled a condom down my cock and shuffled up behind Bradley on my knees.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" I asked. "I don't mind... you know... waiting 'til next time."

I suddenly worried that suggesting a second 'date' might not be considered de rigeur and added, almost babbling in my haste, "I mean... you know... if you want to do this again... I'm not suggesting that we should..."

Bradley turned back to me and smiled. "I'm happy for second go if you are, mate. Maybe if Garth's around for one weekend, the three of us could get together. He could show you his little 'trick'!"

I grinned at him. "Wow! That'd be... well... yeah!"

He pushed his bum towards me. "Come on then, Rob. I mean, I don't want to rush you, but if you wait much longer, it's going to start healing up!"

I looked at his butt-crack thinking it would take rather a long time for that vast hole to heal up. I repeated my hope that one day mine would look so temptingly accommodating to other, horny men.

I shuffled forwards again and, guiding my shaft with one hand, eased the first few inches of my cock into his rectum.

Bradley called out, "God yeah! That feels fucking massive!"

And I pushed myself another couple of inches into him.

His passage felt wonderfully hot and tight around my organ. It was slick from my spit and from the liquid he'd put into himself and my cock slid in more easily than I'd thought.

"That's it!" he called out, gasping with pleasure. "Ease it right in! All the way!"

I grabbed his hips and pushed myself another few inches home.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted. "How fucking big are you?"

"I don't know," I admitted, holding onto him with my cock about two thirds of the way inside him. "I never actually measured it."

"Feels like fucking ten inches already! It's easily the biggest cock I've taken!"

"Sorry," I muttered. "I'll stop there, if you want."

"No!" he cried out. "I love it! Keep going! Push it right in!"

I started sliding the rest of my cock into him, feeling like the head of it must be nearly touching his liver.

"Fucking Jesus!" he gasped, sounding like he might either be in agony or ecstasy, and my pubes finally nuzzled against his buttocks and my balls touched the tops of his thighs.

"It's in," I announced.

"D'you reckon?" he gasped, with just the faintest hint of sarcasm.

I looked at the two of us in the mirror opposite: two men joined together, hips against buttocks. Here I was, finally, with another man in front of me with his arse impaled on my very eager erection. We looked good together: like the natural culmination of everything I'd been through.

Bradley turned to the mirror and saw us for himself. He admired the shape our bodies were making – him bending forwards with me upright and kneeling behind – and smiled at me.

"How do you feel?" he asked. "Seeing yourself like this..."

"Rather wonderful," I replied, smiling back. "I should have done this years ago."

He chuckled and pushed himself up, so that we were kneeling together. I was surprised to see his erection rise upwards from between his legs: he was already aroused again just from the feel of having my large organ throbbing inside him.

I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the feel of his thick, luxuriant chest hair and grabbing him more closely towards me. I nuzzled into the back of his head, smelling his shampoo and the musky whiff of the sweat on his neck and back, and tongued at his ear.

He giggled and said it felt nice and I reached down and gently played with his erection, curving upwards above his large, hairy balls. I nibbled his earlobe, teasing his cock with my fingers, enjoying the feel of my own, similarly aroused and similarly curved as it bore upwards inside him.

I gently bit the top of his ear and he gasped in pleasure. "That's lovely, Rob. Really hot..."

I looked at us in the mirror again, marvelling at the unseen congruence of our two cocks: his exposed and gently pulsating in my fingers, mine with an almost identical shape just inches behind it but being kneaded and squeezed by his grateful bowels.

I was connected to another man, our bodies locked together by the throbbing rod of my excitement clamped tightly by the hot, slimy muscles of his arse. We looked, quite frankly, spectacular together and I suddenly wanted other men to know – Jake, even – how amazing this felt. I wanted all the males I knew to know how intensely erotic this was, my son included: to find out how incredible was this sensation of being bonded together with a fellow man and how natural was this union of same-sex penetration.

Still watching us in the mirror, I withdrew my cock slowly from between his cheeks until only the head was still inside him, and then, holding firmly only his hips, slid it back into him more rapidly.

"Jesus, fuck!" he called out as I filled him back up with it, and then he turned to me over his shoulder and we kissed again with my organ buried deep inside him.

This time I was the more dominant of the two of us: it was my turn to work my tongue into his mouth, pushing his aside and driving deep into his throat. I kissed him urgently and passionately, wrapping my arms around him again and grabbing his body towards me, tasting the dregs of his own semen in his mouth and letting him enjoy the taste of his own arse in mine.

Then he pulled away from me and we stared again into the mirror. I couldn't believe that, just hours ago, I didn't even know that Bradley enjoyed sex with men and now, here he was on my bed and with my cock buried deep between his hairy, round arse-cheeks.

"Do you miss not having a woman?" he asked, smiling at me through the mirror.

I laughed. "To be honest, Bradley, I haven't actually thought about a woman the whole time we've been together."

It was true. And perhaps more than a little ironic given the places my thoughts had strayed to when I was with Debbie.

"That's good," he smiled. "Great. Now come on, mate. Fuck me!"

I pushed his back down towards the bed so that he was bending over again. Then I grabbed his hips and started buggering him; my first taste of fucking another man.

The sensation was largely as I had expected: his hole was tighter than a woman's and his bowels felt hotter than her vagina, but the feel of penetrating a male was not dissimilar to doing the same to a female.

The smell of our sex, though, was what really excited me. It was totally different from the smell of being intimate with a woman: it was harsh and pungent like rimming him but steadily increasing in intensity the more I drove in and out of him. It was the scent of his backside, growing stronger and more recognizable with the quickening pace of my thrusts: not crude or unpleasant, just a thickening odour of our unrefined same-sex intercourse; ripe with sweat and musk, and with the unique smack of Bradley's rectum, streaking greasily along my pumping shaft.

At the same time, I was also hugely turned on by the fact that this was a man's arse I was humping; that it was hairy and muscular and that there were two church-bell balls swinging around underneath it. I loved the fact that my thrusting cock, ramming in and out of him so beautifully between the paired globes of his cheeks, was making him gasp with excitement and that his hard-on was curving upwards in front of him, swaying back and forth to the beat of my hips.

I reached round in front of him and grabbed at his erection, roughly wanking his foreskin back and forth as I fucked him faster and faster. I looked over at him through the mirror again and we grinned at each other: two men revelling in connecting two organs which weren't, strictly speaking, designed to fit together but which made a very successful coupling nonetheless.

He called out, "Fuck me, Rob! Fuck me harder!"

I grabbed him firmly by both shoulders so I could slam in and out of him, my hips making loud slapping noises as they pummelled his arse-cheeks. We were rutting like a couple of horny squaddies – 'bumming' in Jake's crude parlance – and, God, did it feel good!

I could never have imagined, that day he'd been on all fours under my desk to fix my printer, what would soon be taking place between the two of us men. As I'd admired his bum that day through his black work trousers, I would never have dreamt that I would soon be enjoying my first taste of male-to-male sex with that very arse; that in just a matter of months I'd be holding onto this bloke's shoulders while I pounded his enticing backside with the same erection that had proven so problematic as I'd crouched behind him.

As my rhythm was quickening, Bradley reached underneath himself and grabbed at my balls.

"Stay still for a minute," he commanded.

I stopped thrusting my hips and he used his firm grip on my balls to slide my cock in and out of himself, like he might with a dildo. I moved back from him, letting him use my cock to pleasure himself and enjoying the feel of his tight grip ramming it with a quickening rhythm in and out of his stretched, gaping hole.

"Oh Jesus, that's fucking hot!" he cried out, and I wondered if he was used to using a rubber cock on himself, well-hidden from his girlfriend of course, when he masturbated alone.

He looked over his shoulder, back up at me, grinning with surprise at how much excitement he was getting from pounding his own arsehole with my thickened shaft. I put my hands on my hips and let him enjoy his own rapid pumping action, gasping and grunting as he hammered my cock in and out of himself, revelling in his own distinct take on anal masturbation.

"Your cock is so big!" he told me, breathlessly. "It's fucking amazing!"

And then, perhaps fearing that I wasn't as aroused as he was by having my cock used like a sex toy, he said, "Come on, then, Rob. Fuck me again! Fuck me up the arse!"

With his hand still gripping my balls, I grabbed his hips again and started slamming my cock in and out of his hole.

He looked up at me and grinned again. "Fucking give it to me!"

As I did so, he moved his hand backward from my balls, along the hairy ridge behind them and found my own moist hole to finger it quickly. His fingers made wet slurping noises as he thrust them in and out of me, the fucker simultaneously becoming the fucked in a tantalising feat of circularity.

As he jabbed his hand in and out of me more strenuously and more deeply, my own anal smell wafted up to join his, the two combining to fill the air around us: intensely erotic and powerfully masculine.

He pushed himself upright so that his back was against my chest and grabbed his cock from me so he could wank it himself.

I craned my neck around him, twisting myself so that my face was level with his stomach and he directed his cock towards me so that I could suck at its tip while I fucked him. With most men it would have been difficult if not impossible, but Bradley's cock was long enough for me to get the top of its head between my lips while my own kept up its rhythm slamming in and out of his arse.

Bradley moaned in what sounded like both surprise and appreciation and wanked himself as fast as he could as I sucked his precum from his slit. I found it fascinating that I could pleasure him both anally and orally at the same time, while I was, with his fingers reaching underneath my heavily bobbing balls, being frantically penetrated by him.

As I was marvelling at the sheer versatility of the male body, he called out, "Christ, Rob, I'm getting close! I'm gonna cum!"

As much as I wanted to taste his semen pulsing into my mouth, I was more desperate to climax inside him. I pulled away from his cock, having managed to suckle on about an inch of it, and pushed him back down onto all fours. His fingers slid out of me with a loud, rasping fart, and I grabbed him roughly by the shoulders again. Squatting behind him, I started slamming in and out of him as quickly and as roughly as I could, making long arching sweeps using the full length of my organ and feeling my heavy balls slamming against his with every powerful thrust.

He cried out, "Jesus, yeah!" and I heard the splashes of his climax falling onto the duvet.

My own orgasm was seconds behind his, filling the end of the condom so copiously that my cock-head was bathing in my own seed, as I thrust it over and over deep up inside his bowels. Still shuddering, I stared at myself in the mirror, marvelling at myself having my first climax with my cock bucking in and out of another man's backside. We were both covered in sweat and I looked strangely pale, my hair sticking to my forehead like I'd been out in a thunderstorm.

He pulled away from me with a moist-sounding fart of his own and struggled off the bed to wipe himself down. As he mopped up the dribbles of his semen with tissues, still panting for breath, he grinned at me.