From Unhappy Husband to Cock Slut Pt. 01

A few months ago I had a strange experience that changed my life. As background, my name's Paul and I'm, well, pretty average - 36 years old, five-feet-eight tall, average build, mid-brown hair which I was wearing then at a typical business length, okay looks with brown eyes, a short snub nose and a square dimpled chin, and average build.

I was feeling so down that Wednesday. My childless marriage was falling apart - no particular reason, my wife was between jobs, we just seemed to get on each other's nerves the whole time, we hadn't had sex in months and in fact I'd recently moved into the tiny spare bedroom. On top of that I'd just finished a disappointing meeting: I'm a solicitor in a group practice and I'd lost an important client. It was early afternoon and I couldn't face going home to yet another row and an evening of angry silences. It's fair to say that my confidence level was pretty much zero.

I was in Shepherd's Bush and I drifted into a Turkish greasy spoon café. I ordered a sausage butty and a mug of coffee but I really didn't have much of an appetite and only took one bite. The coffee was made with hot milk so I had to wait for it to cool down a bit before I could drink it. I was staring blindly down at the table, but then I raised my head and my eyes fell on the most striking girl sitting a few tables away. I guessed she was in her early 20s and he had a Goth look - jet black hair worn loose to her shoulders, pale complexion, huge dark eyes emphasised by black make-up, nose a little too long and beaky and pouty lips with black lipstick. Like mine, her chin was dimpled, but rounded, giving her face an oval look. She was wearing a black denim jacket, black retro Souixsie and the Banshees T-shirt and black skinny jeans.

I wasn't sure what it was about her but, compared to the three or four grey men in the café, she shone out like a black diamond. I realised I was staring, and then she looked up and noticed, and flashed me a little smile. In embarrassment I snapped my eyes back down to my table; but a few seconds later I glanced up again and her eyes were still on me - she grinned at me peeking at her. By now I felt as if my face was burning so I stared fixedly into space and sipped the coffee but it was still too damned hot. I was just making up my mind to leave it and get out of there when I became aware of being overshadowed and a voice said softly, "Hi, I'm Lindsay, Mind if I join you?"

It was only when he spoke, in a light tenor London voice that I realised that Lindsay was actually a bloke, albeit a strikingly pretty one. Before I could respond he slipped onto the bench seat beside me and added, "After all, we seem to be two lonely people with nothing better to do than sit here."

Having previously appeared to be checking out this girl as I had thought, I felt too embarrassed to leave immediately and, as people do, we started small talk. Lindsay told me he was an art student and asked about me. I didn't notice at first, but he gradually angled his body towards me, his knee pressing against mine under the table and his arm casually slid along the back of the wooden booth we were in. I only realised this when his other hand came to rest on my mid-thigh.

I should explain at this point I'd never before felt any attraction to my own sex, in fact it wasn't something I'd ever even thought about. Realising with a small shock where this seemed to be leading I stutteringly blurted that I had to leave now. Lindsay was blocking my exit and made no move to let me out; on the contrary, his hand moved further up my thigh, his thumb lightly resting against my balls, and he leaned closer towards me and murmured, "Do you really?"

Blushing again, and starting to feel nervous and annoyed at myself for getting into this situation, I told him "Look, I'm sorry, I'm not gay, and I do have to be somewhere."

He leaned closer still, so close I could feel his breath on my face and I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me. He half-whispered "I don't think you do. Have somewhere to go." I froze as his hand moved upwards again and he traced my throbbing erection between fingers and thumb. "Besides," he added, "you seem to me as if you're in need of some TLC. My flat's just round the corner, why not come round and I'll give you a nice massage."

I could actually feel sweat breaking out on my brow, but as this beautiful, seductive man continued to stroke my cock I heard myself mumbling, "I'm not sure, I mean...I haven't got much cash..." Lindsay grinned at that and told me he wasn't a hooker. Then he stood and, my mind awhirl with confusion, my belly feeling as if it was filled with lead, unaccountably I followed him, asking myself what the fuck I thought I was doing.

He was a couple of inches shorter than me and we walked side by side for about three minutes, neither speaking nor looking at each other, then Lindsay descended some stone steps to a basement, unlocked a grubby white door, and led me into a small kitchen. Closing the door behind him he giggled and said, "You know, the whole way here I thought you might turn and run away." He lead me into a lounge cramped by a large old three-piece suite, then stepped close to me and removed my glasses, eased my shoulder bag to the floor then slipped my jacket off my shoulders and off; stiffly, mechanically I cooperated. Lindsay loosened my tie and lifted it over my head then, as if claiming his prize, lightly kissed me on the lips. He whispered, "Now, I recommend a shower before your massage."

It was as if I was in a daze, or some kind of daydream. Even as he unbuttoned my shirt and eased it off, then unbuckled my trousers and pushed them and my pants to my ankles, part of my mind was screaming at me to flee, yet when he untied my shoes and lifted each foot I meekly allowed him to slip them off, and my other things until I stood naked in front of him. Within seconds he had stripped as well, revealing a slim white body, completely devoid of hair or tattoos. I noticed he had a small cock, slim and only about three inches log when flaccid (I'm more like six inches and thicker). Unlike me, he was uncircumcised. Giving me what I thought was meant to be a reassuring smile he softly took my hand and led me into a small tiled room containing toilet, sink and shower, which he turned on.

Obediently I stepped in, and Lindsay immediately followed. The shower was barely big enough for both of us and, as I felt our cocks momentarily touch, I turned my back to him and to the flow of water. Silently he soaped and washed my back with a face cloth, which I found quite relaxing. As he went lower he removed the cloth from his hand and I gasped and jumped a little as one of his fingers pushed between my arse cheeks and traced up the crack to the small of my back. Then, still without a word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and gently but firmly turned me to face him.

He used the cloth to wash my chest and belly, but I closed my eyes and shuddered as his bare soapy fingers cupped my balls. He ran them up to my stiffening cock, circling it with his hand and wanking me under the guise of washing it. After all that had gone before I shot my load within seconds and mumbled an apology. With a smile Lindsay replied, "That's okay sweetie, I'm sure there's much more where that came from." With that he crouched, took an arse cheek in each hand and closed his lips over the tip of my cock, licking the residue of my jizz off it. That brought another gasp from me and I clamped my fingers to his scalp.

I stood passively as Lindsay dried me, then himself. After that he led me into the largest room of the apartment, a bedroom with a double bed on which he laid me face down while he blow-dried his hair. I lay trying to get my breathing under control and wondering what the hell was happening to me.

Lindsay knelt between my legs, easing them further apart, and began the massage. He was quite talented, applying a medium-firm pressure as he kneaded my shoulders and biceps. As he reached up my back I could feel his scrotum lightly brushing across my skin. He worked as far down as my buttocks and upper thighs, giving my balls a few knuckle and thumb strokes in the process. Then, leaning forwards, he kissed the rim of my ear and whispered "Time to turn over, lover."

I did so, to reveal my semi-erect dick. Lindsay shuffled forwards until his knees were either side of me, beneath my thighs, our cocks rubbing together. My already heavy breathing deepened as he placed his hands on my stomach gently massaging it. He worked downwards until the bases of his hands were rubbing against my cock, then he shuffled his knees back, lowered his head, his hair tickling against my thighs, and took my now straining erection into his mouth. Within seconds I was groaning as his lips and tongue caressed me. My wife used to do this for me when she wasn't in the mood to screw but I couldn't remember ever feeling the deep arousal that Lindsay was provoking in me. I was positively panting and a burning heat was passing through my body. It flashed through my mind that I'd only known this man less than two hours and now I was thrilling to him sucking me off.

In fact he stopped before I came again and gently eased me to one side of the bed. Then he reached to a side cabinet, pulled out a jar of gel, spread it along my dick and raised his slim bum in the air, pulling two pillows beneath his belly. I was more than ready and willing, but I asked about protection. Looking over his shoulder, Lindsay told me "I get tested regularly, and I trust you." With that reassurance I shuffled into position, gripped his hips and pushed inside him. I started slowly and gently but Lindsay grunted "Harder," and I rapidly sped up and thrust as deeply as I could. He was tighter than I expected and I loved the feel of being inside him. He reached back with one of his hands and started playing with his own cock and balls; I managed to last the best part of a minute before I couldn't hold back any longer, and with a loud gasp and one final huge thrust I shot my load deep into Lindsay's arse.

We were both gasping for breath and a bit sweaty after that as we lay side by side, but after a short while Lindsay leant over me and kissed me for real for the first time, his tongue pressing against my lips. Amazed at how relaxed, and happy, I felt, I eagerly admitted him and fenced back with my own tongue. As we continued to kiss and cuddle, me whispering how much I'd enjoyed our lovemaking and how beautiful Lindsay was, I wanked him to a climax with my hand.

Without meaning to I drifted off to sleep. Lindsay woke me a couple of hours later with a cup of coffee, another deep kiss and a grope. He showed me a pencil sketch he'd done of me while I was sleeping, which I thought displayed considerable skill. We cuddled up again, Lindsay teasing me to hardness, then to my surprise he swung his leg across me and sunk his bumhole down onto my shaft, energetically riding me cowboy-style. My wife and I had never been that adventurous sexually and it felt amazing to have him powering down onto me, clenching his bum around me as I shot a second load into him. Once we'd got our breath back I showered again - alone - dressed, we exchanged phone numbers and I left. My head was in a whirl but I knew I hoped to see Lindsay again. On the way home I bought a fish supper so I could go straight up to my bedroom without having to see my wife.