My second encounter with Jim Pt. 02

I reached forward, clamping my left hand onto his left shoulder and holding his hip with my right hand. The image on the screen and noise of the guys fucking faded into the background. All l I heard was the sound of Mark's low moans and the slap of my hips and balls against him with each lunge forward. I was back to that beast-like state of no concern but for myself. Inside my mind I was again taunting everything I believed in, silently shouting, "Look at me, look at what I'm doing! In front of God I vowed to be faithful. Now I'm here, not only desecrating the sanctity of my marriage, but dragging this man into sin with me and desecrating his marriage too!"

I felt a fog of euphoria envelop me again. Without even thinking about it I had moved my right hand up to grip Mark's other shoulder, and I was now pushing forward and pulling him back with all my might. I really don't know how loud the slapping sound or Mark's moans were at this point, but I know if there were people in the rooms around me, they surely knew what was happening. I didn't give a fuck. My only thoughts where harder and harder, over and over--it had become my mantra. My hands were gripping and pulling on Mark like he was my prey as I continued to ravage his ass. He had folded his arms over the chair and his face was pressed into them, trying unsuccessfully to muffle his cries. I started to feel it, the pinnacle was coming. My head was swimming inside the fog, I could feel my pent-up anger and frustration, it was building, and I was about to let it all out. For a brief moment I thought I should ask Mark if he was okay with what was about to happen. He had subjected his body to my will, it was done intimately, he hadn't allowed any other man to feel the pleasure of being inside him unprotected. And yet here I was, using my raw cock to violate him in any way I pleased.

But I was greedy--the thought of asking him was less than fleeting. I wanted Mark to feel it, all his work to be worth it. I was about to impregnate him. The night before seemed like a distant memory, almost an accident, a whirlwind of quick relief that didn't count. Tonight was different, tonight was intentional. He was the first man I had fucked, and I wanted to plant my seed deep in his body.

I could feel my balls tightening and my muscles contracting. My cock swelled, and with one final thrust and forceful pull it began. I held him in that position, my hips still pushed forward and my arm muscles contracted, keeping him locked to me. My cock could go no deeper, and I wasn't going to allow it to pull back even a centimetre. I started unleashing it all. I groaned again and again, my cock swelling and pulsing, injecting streams of my genetic code and emotional baggage into Mark, this near stranger.

Instantly the wave of guilt and concern hit, not as bad as the first time, but it was still there. It felt as if a weight had been lifted--years of carrying it and it was gone. I wanted to love it. But here I stood, my cock was still planted in Mark, a man. I let go of Mark's shoulders but didn't move. My cock was slowly starting to send blood back into the rest of my body. Mark hadn't moved yet. He had stopped groaning, but was still breathing heavily. His ass was quivering, clamping down on my shaft like it was trying to milk every last drop out of it, not wanting to waste any. We stood frozen in place, my semi-hard cock and Marks ass pulling on it desperately trying to keep me inside.

Mark raised his head out of his arms as my now completely limp cock slid out of his ass. His hole was well used, gaping so you could see the pinkness of his colon as it was pushed up to fill the void his ass couldn't tighten to cover, a little bit of cum dripping out down his crack and onto his balls. I stood there quietly staring and admiring what I had done. For some absurd reason I was proud.

Mark turned his head and broke the silence.

"Holy fuck."

I sat back on the edge of the bed and watched as he seemed to be attempting to close his ass all the way. "Worth it?" I asked.

"Probably won't feel like it later tonight and tomorrow, but right now, fuck yes it was. You? How do you feel about what a man can do?" he asked.

I walked over and poured two new drinks. "I still feel a bit odd about it, but a mouth is a mouth and an ass is an ass, I guess. Seeing how horny we are compared to the ladies, it opens up a lot of options for relief with truly no strings attached."

I handed Mark his drink and a towel to sit on. I looked at the clock. It was only a little after eight.

"Damn, I went for almost an hour and it's been a long time since I've felt more than my hand."

Mark looked at the clock. "Almost an hour? Shit, my ass was worn out thirty minutes ago. Felt too good to stop, so I figured as long as you were hard, I'd keep going too. Most married guys are five-minute heroes, and that's with a condom on."

We both laughed a bit. I suggested we hit the hot tub to soak some of the soreness away. Mark nodded in agreement. We got dressed, refilled our glasses, and headed out. In the elevator with another group Mark started laughing. The group got off on another floor and Mark, still laughing, turned to me and said, "I can feel it. You shot a huge load deep in my ass and some of it is starting to leak out. It's in my ass crack. I need to get in that hot tub before this turns into a mess across the lobby."

He was trying to act nonchalant but was walking oddly, like he had to get to the bathroom before he shit himself. We were both trying to not erupt into fits of laughter.

We made it to the hot tub and quickly got in, joining a couple already in there. We sat and chatted for an hour, mostly about work and life, and then decided to part ways. I emailed him the next day to see how he was holding up and we ended up meeting for a drink again that night in a quiet corner of the lobby. His ass was sore but getting better, and to his chagrin, he was still leaking a little bit that morning at work. "As long as no one finds out, I'm glad it happened," I told him.

"Me too," Mark said, then pulled out his phone.

"My wife doesn't have a clue, she came home a couple hours after I got back in the room, stumbling drunk." He showed me a video of her bouncing from wall to wall in little hallway in the room, then falling onto the bed and trying to take her clothes off. She eventually stood up, grabbed the bottom of her dress and tried to pull it over her head, getting it caught on her bra. She pulled again and one of her tits slipped out of her bra as it pulled up with the dress, while the other one was still locked in place. You could hear her cuss, then ask for help. Mark, laughing and still filming, helped her free her arm so she could wiggle out of the mess she'd got herself in. Eventually the dress was on the floor, bra still stuck inside of it. His wife flopped backwards, arms and legs splayed out, wearing only sheer panties, and the video ended.

"She doesn't remember much of anything after her friends brought her back to the hotel. She's hung over as fuck and hasn't left the room all day, but we did have a good laugh over the video." he said, while still chuckling about it.

We talked a little longer, kept in touch through email, and tried to sync work trips in order to get together again, but it never happened. Eventually the email communication died off, and after a year I deleted the old ones. I removed all evidence of any connection to Mark, my first but not my last experience with another man.

All from a chance encounter based on a simple ad.