Midlife Carnal Crisis

His eyes looked glazed, and he stared off into the sky. I was happy enough myself, my own penis in an impossible state, aroused by the excitement I had produced for my friend.

After many minutes, Roger spoke.

"That was incredible."

He paused, and then looked over at me. I'd laid down on my towel, propping myself up with my elbows as I watched his cock shrink. Post-orgasm is a funny time for many folks, some are deadly silent, just dwelling in their own thoughts, maybe thinking about whether they need to reciprocate, maybe just experiencing the post-climax sensations in their body, or just settling into relax mode. Roger's expression was one of wonder.

"Incredible," he repeated. "Carrie's never done that."

"What? She never sucked you?" I was incredulous.

He shook his head. "No, she's put lips to cock, licked and sucked. But never to completion. Never all the way. It was always just preliminaries."

Holy Mother of God, this had been his first time. I was thunderstruck. No wonder his reaction.

I laughed out loud. "Sure is nice, isn't it?"

"Did you ever ask her to suck you fully?" I was curious now.

"Naw," he shook his head. "I got the feeling she'd never do it. Said the idea grossed her out. You learn with your wife what sorts of things to insist on and what not to. It didn't seem negotiable and I didn't push."

He looked down at his sagging, spent prick, wet and bedraggled. I felt good. If you can do that to a raging erection, you have done alright.

He looked over at my penis. It was hard, stiff enough for the head to hover an inch above my torso, and if I shifted my body it wagged stiffly, like a stout tree branch in a strong wind.

"I take it Barb does you?" The look of envy on his face was unmistakable.

"Yeah, not recently, but earlier in our career together. She wasn't that fond of it herself, but I loved it when she indulged me. Surely one of the most amazing things in the world, different than a cunt, for sure. Just as soft and wet, but a tongue and mouth just can do such amazing things."

He nodded. "Can't argue with that."

"But the sperm?" He made a face. "Can't taste good, can it?"

"It's not so bad. Remember your first sip of beer? Maybe your dad let you sample a taste when you were a kid?"

Roger laughed. "Yep, I do. Never thought I'd ever like the stuff. 'An acquired taste' my old man said."

"Right. Same here. I got to tell you Rog, I had a nice time getting that sperm out of you. You pulsed something fierce. Felt good going off in my mouth."

He looked at me, then reached over and gave my prick a finger push. It wagged happily.

"Damn you're hard, Clay. I should repay."

"You don't have to Rog, we've been having enough fun all along."

He shook his head. "No, I got to. I need to know for myself. And if I can make you come half as nice as you did me, well, that would be worth it all by itself."

Earlier in my life I had never been much of a sex coach. Early girlfriends, we were all fumbling in dark and clumsy ways, almost no talking, always just trying to find a way to make good things happen, oftentimes in a rush.

This had even been true with Barb, even after we'd gotten comfortable together and figured out what we each liked. It had all been unwritten rules, unspoken guidelines. We didn't talk about it much.

But Roger was different. He would be giving a suck to a guy for the first time.

I led him through the business.

I'd love to tell you he was wonderful, and actually he was, but first times are never polished. I imparted the idea of "wet" and "teasing" and "light" however, and vastly enjoyed watching him do me, my penis hard and anxious from its built-up excitement doing him.

He took my sperm like a man, in the back of his throat as I had suggested. And for this alone I was happy, it had been ages since Barb had suctioned me all the way, and of course this time was ultimately more exciting -- outside, unfettered, doing something delicious with my new best bud.

And knowing we'd soon be at it again.

Summer was coming to a close, the best summer I had had in a long time. Roger and I were both excited with each other, finding new waters, but weather changes meant we might need to alter the timing and nature of our trysts. Outdoors would be less of an option, more unpredictable.

Our "trysts." I liked the sound of this. So much ahead of us. Our new freedoms felt alive, invigorating, exciting.