tagGay MaleMy Joyous Release

My Joyous Release


It was the release above all else that transformed me that first time we met. I was working in a demanding job, coping with the constant bickering, whingeing and worrying of my colleagues Anything would have been a better way to spend a few daylight hours before I returned to the despairing repetitions of life with my wife and children. So I escaped. The PC on my desk became a bolt-hole, a place to where I could escape live out fantasies of an uninhibited physicality that seemed so out of reach at that same desk where I was trapped all day. There was a delicious pleasure at stealing time to get away and the thrill that I might get caught by a colleague, barging into my office with his latest tale of woe. The pleasure too of connecting with someone else on-line, flirting, feeling desired, getting his reaction when I mailed him my pics. How vain I am! I realise now that a lot of what I was doing was the complete opposite of how I was with women. Instead of chasing, taking the initiative, now I was taking on the feminine role: waiting, reacting, practising being looked at as an object of desire. And I loved it.

It took a while to realise that I could take this all further, actually meet a guy and play out that role for real. It caught me by surprise when it happened. One late morning I had sneaked online and found myself chatting to a guy who lived close to the office, was able to accommodate and who loved my pics. I had work to do but the temptation was overwhelming. We arranged to meet in a nearby carpark and to be honest he wasn't the kind of guy I imagined I would make it with: wiry and smaller than me, his head shaven, accentuating a gauntness to his face. Older than me too but still in good shape. The journey to his house was awkward, small talk concealing my anxiety and his ... well ... his to me novel lust. His home was beautiful, he had a good eye for colour and taste in the décor and furnishings, and it felt reassuringly expensive and comfortable. We chatted some more as he showed me round, me hiding my nervousness as best as I could.

The first move was always going to be difficult for me, despite this outward show of confidence. I was admiring a picture when I felt his hands touch my shoulders, then gently probing the knots of muscle and stroking up the back of my head. It was so gentle and yet I could sense a strength in his hands. As he caressed me, I found my work tensions ebb away. Was it me or him who moved so that I could feel him close against me? I raised my arms above my head to allow him to stroke my stomach and chest, his hands pushing up my shirt, sending shivers of pleasure as his skin came into contact with mine. And now he was kissing my neck and cheek, and I twisted so that my mouth could find his. Our tongues entwined and now I turned to him, my hands for the first time touching his chest, discovering the hardness of his frame, and eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. His chest had barely any hair on it and the skin was soft. I bent to kiss his chest, smelling a sweet scent of soap, enjoying his hands exploring my back. It was as they stroked down across my buttocks that I almost came. I'm sure he could feel how this was affecting me, my cock straining against my trousers and pushing into him.

He had the presence of mind to slow things up, stepping away from me and suggesting we get a few more of our clothes out of the way. Strangely though we were both shy enough to keep our briefs on, though they did little to disguise the cocks pressing through the fabric. I was a little embarrassed too by the tell-tale damp spot of pre-cum plainly visible. As we stood watching each other, he stretched out his hand to touch the pre-cum and, his eyes on mine, I noticed that he dabbed his fingers on his tongue, as if to catch just the essence. For some reason I turned away, playing the coquette, so now he had to come to me. I let him take control, showing the effect of his stroking and kissing of my back through the responsive swaying of my hips. He responded in turn by stroking down between my buttocks, a finger sliding down and across my hole. And now my hips and his strokes were working together, our bodies teasing each other as his strokes became firmer and I willed my ass to open to let him in.

Again, he took control to halt us so that he could push my briefs down. His hand pulled the waistband away from my cock so that he could push the elastic down, pulling the briefs out of the way. The feel of the air on my cock as it sprang erect in front of me was gorgeous. All I could do was to gasp as he pushed the briefs down then I felt him kneel behind me to guide them down my thighs and allow me to step out of them. He kissed up my leg now, inside my thigh, his tongue tracing itself along my muscle. The sensation was just about bearable, not a tickle just so delectable that once again I seemed to be melting. My breathing now had become heavier and I wanted to feel him against my ass again.

"Let me come down to you," I suggested and so found myself on all fours in front of him. Now I could feel the warm wetness of his tongue as he probed between my cheeks, licking my hole. His tongue stiffened as he searched to penetrate me. I bent myself so that my head was resting on the floor, my hands reaching back to pull my ass wider to allow him closer. And again we found a rhythm together, my hips swivelling so my hole could meet his tongue. And as my muscles released to accept him I knew that this was my place, my place where I could be free, where he could take me as I wanted and where I wanted him to take me as he wanted.

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