The Arranged Date

He then adjusted the tuck of Steven's shirt, letting his hands travel along the sides of his hips--and then letting hands slide down over Steven's ass.

I stood by in silence. Bronn glanced over at me, and we both understood that my silence spoke volumes.

While looking directly at me, he again placed his hands on my fiancé's ass, keeping them there for several seconds to ensure that we were in agreement. Steven stood stock still. He did nothing to have Bronn remove his hands, nor did he object. I couldn't see his face, and it was only when Bronn said, "Okay, let's go" and they turned toward the front door that I saw Steven's look of anticipation.

Bronn's hand was on Steven's lower back, guiding him toward the door, but as they passed by me he paused and leaned over, speaking quietly into my ear, for me alone.

"I don't see any silk," he said.

"Not yet," I replied equally quietly, looking him in the eye.

"Ah," he said, his eyes crinkling.

And then the two of them were out the door. A few moments later, I heard the quiet roar of Bronn's car pulling out of our driveway and into the night streets.

* *

As I sat at home, waiting for my fiancé to return, I again was surprised at how excited I was. It was real now--my fiancé was on a date with another man. The man would be checking him out, watching his lips and his face, seeing some of the skin of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned, watching him move in his tight pants.

And Steven would be focused on him. Listening to his flirtatious words, responding to the touch of his hand as the man guided him through doorways, making eye contact and responding to all sorts of non-verbal cues.

Where had they gone? A bar? A restaurant? A club? For a walk in a park or along the beach?

I didn't know.

And what else were they doing with each other? Or was it to each other?

* *

I was alone in our bedroom when I heard the front door to our home close quietly. I didn't know what time it was--the last I recall was seeing the clock turn at 2 a.m. Despite my excitement I'd dozed off. I glanced at it: 3:30 a.m.

I heard Steven moving around downstairs and expected him any moment to come up to our bedroom. Surely he'd want to tell me how it went and ... everything.

But then I heard the downstairs shower running. Normally we use the upstairs one off our bedroom. A few minutes later, the running water stopped and there was silence. I waited a couple of minutes more. Still no Steven coming up the stairs.

My curiosity got the better of me and I crept quietly downstairs to find him. I passed though the laundry room and glanced at the hamper beside the washing machine.

His black jeans had been thrown into it, along with his white linen shirt, now quite crumpled and with streaks of something dark.

But the silk underwear were missing. What had happened to them? I wondered.

No--there they were, having been tossed over the edge of the hamper and fallen behind. I picked them up. They were torn, and they seemed to be crusted with dried fluids of some sort.

Oh my god, I thought, as the realization hit me.

* *

Steven was sitting in the semi-darkness of our living room, one towel around his waist, another over his shoulders. His still-damp hair was tousled and un-brushed. He didn't meet my eyes when I sat beside him on the sofa.

"Honey, it's okay," I said in a low, reassuring voice, touching him on the arm. Inside, though, I wanted to scream Tell me tell me!!

He darted a glance at my eyes and said, "How much do you really want to know?"

"Every last detail," I said firmly. "But first just tell me your main reaction. How was it overall?"

"Confusing," he said, "and ... hot."

And then it all came out in a rush.

They'd gone to a fancy restaurant. They'd sat in a booth. Bronn had ordered food and wine for them. And for the first hour it had been a perfectly normal date and Bronn had behaved like a perfect gentleman. They'd talked about food and the weather and touched lightly on work before moving on to other life interests, movies, sports, and travel.

But when the after-dinner drinks arrived, he had switched gears. He told Steven to slide around in the booth until he was close by Bronn's side. Bronn had put his hand on Steven's thigh and altered the tone of his voice.

"Wait," I said, "Slow down at this part." I liked that image very much. "How did it feel when his hand grabbed your thigh?"

"He wasn't exactly grabbing, more resting his hand there. Firmly, though, like he was telling me he knew what he wanted."

He wanted to touch you, I said to myself. And make you his.

In a low voice, so no passing restaurant staff could he, Bronn had told Steven that he looked hot tonight, that he liked how the open buttons on his shirt showed part of his chest, how he'd noticed when Steven's lips had pressed against the hard edge of the wine glass, how his fork had guided pieces of meat into his mouth, and how, when Steven had excused himself for a bathroom break, spectacular his ass looked squeezed into his tight jeans.

"How did that make you feel?" I asked.

"Flattered--and like I was a sex object."

"You should feel flattered. You did look sexy tonight. And," I added after a moment, "I sense that by this time you wanted to be his sex object."

He glanced at me again, surprised I'd said it out loud. But then he nodded agreement. "But I also felt like I didn't want to be so open, or to tell him what I'd been thinking about him."

"Which was what?" I forced the question.

"Well ... that he exuded a kind of power that made it hard to resist him, that my body felt overheated in my clothes, and ..." he let several seconds pass "... that I had an intense desire to know what he wanted to do naked."

I had my hopes, but kept silent.

Bronn had then called for the check, paid, and guided Steven outside. Instead of going to his car, though, he'd taken Steven by the arm and they'd crossed the street to a forested park, along one of its semi-dark pathways, past a bench sheltered by overhanging branches from a giant tree. Bronn had pushed Steven against the trunk of the giant tree. Steven said it'd felt like they had the entire park to themselves

Wow, I thought, maybe Bronn likes making love outdoors.

Steven said shafts of moonlight let him see Bronn's arms grab him, and then they were embracing, and Bronn's face came close to his, and then they were kissing, Bronn's lips pressing hard against his and then his tongue invading Steven's mouth. As they embraced, mouths locked, he could feel the heat of Bronn's body through their clothes--and the man's growing erection as he pressed his crotch into Steven's.

After a minute Bronn had released his mouth and they both panted, taking in deep drafts of the cooler night air. Bronn had kept his crotch pushed into Steven's.

Steven said his pants were now uncomfortably tight but he had no chance to do anything about it, for Bronn's hands were now on his shoulders, pressing him down, down into a crouch, and as Steven descended he'd felt his back scraping through his linen shirt against the rough bark of the tree.

That explains the dark streaks, I thought, or some of them, anyway.

"Wow," I said, "Tell me what you saw from that position"--though I knew very well what he'd be seeing with his face now level with Bronn's crotch. Between my own legs, moisture was leaking out of me, and I desperately wanted to touch myself. But not before I heard more.

"Well, it was mostly dark," he said, "but enough moonlight let me see him undo his belt, then unfasten his pants, and shove them down just enough to free himself."

I loved that moment myself, when a man's cock came out of his pants. I could almost put myself in Steven's place, pressed against a hard tree and with a hard male member approaching my face.

"Did you reach for him?"

"No," Steven said, "I needed my hands to keep my balance. He grabbed his cock with one hand, and with his other hand he grabbed my hair--not hard but firmly--and looked down at my face in the dim light as he moved his cock back and forth near my face."

How big was he? I was desperate to ask, but kept that thought quiet.

Steven also went quiet again. I gave him some moments to prepare for telling the next step. If it had happened, it was his first time, and that was momentous. One can never go back from the first time.

Then he said it, like a confession, "I wanted it, baby. I wanted it so badly."

And he had gotten it. Bronn had brought his cock to Steven's opened mouth, circled its tip lightly around his moistened lips, and then slid it partway into his mouth. By some instinct, Steven said, his mouth had closed automatically around the shaft and he'd started sucking for all he was worth.

My fingers were now between my legs, manipulating my pussy lips and flicking my clitoris as I thrilled to the image of my fiancé crouched between a man's legs and his lips wrapped wetly around the man's cock. So hot.

"You know what happened next," Steven said, not quite making eye contact with me."

"Yes, but I want you to tell me. Say the words."

Bronn had let Steven suck for a couple of minutes, until he took over, starting to thrust his hips forward and back, using Steven's lips and mouth for his pleasure, the pressure and the momentum building until he had suddenly jerked and moaned--and he had spurted jet after jet, filling Steven's mouth.

After another minute, he'd released his grip on Steven's hair, stepped back a pace and told him that he'd been imagining doing that since the first time they'd met at work.

"How did you feel at that moment?"

"Satisfied ... and unsatisfied too." Steven looked thoughtful, lost in his memory of the moment. "There was something so good about having had his penis in my mouth. Just that alone. And then having made him cum like that. Like a reward. And yet I was still clothed, the pressure in my pants especially was strong, and I hadn't any release. I was desperate.

"Though, weirdly," he said after a pause, "that didn't seem as important in that moment as what I'd done for Bronn. It didn't matter that my legs were aching from crouching, that my back was scratched from the tree, that my jaw was sore and my mouth felt used. And I knew my time would come eventually."

Wow. My fingers were busy between my legs, and I saw that Steven had noticed. My time needed to come too.

* *

Steven stood up from the sofa suddenly. "Let's go to bed," he said. "I'd been thinking about sleeping here on the sofa tonight."

He saw my surprise and said, "It's been a confusing night."

Ahhh, I thought, I can imagine.

"But now," he carried on, "I'm feeling this is not just something I need, and I want to tell you the rest, in our bedroom."

* *

Fifteen minutes later, Steven said, they were at Bronn's apartment. He hadn't gotten a tour. Instead Bronn simply took him straight to the bedroom.

Once inside he'd grabbed Steven and they'd kissed again while Bronn unbuttoned his shirt, taking a moment to squeeze Steven's nipples before slipping the shirt off, and then pushing him back on to the bed and wrestling his tight pants off his legs.

"His bed's about the same size as ours," Steven said. We have a king-size--lots of space for lots of action--and Steven and I had had sex in all sorts of ways many times.

"Still," he continued, "it felt different, half-laying back on a man's bed"--he subtly emphasized the word man--"naked except for my underwear, with him standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at me."

Silk, Bronn had said, apparently. And then Steven said they were both aroused. His silk underwear were tented out from his erection, and Bronn had recovered his need on the drive from the park to his apartment.

Steven learned that quickly as Bronn peeled off his clothes, first his shirt to reveal a powerful torso, and then his pants and underwear together, revealing strong thighs and his cock already aroused at their junction.

They'd gazed at each other for a few moments, taking in each other's male bodies--before Bronn had thrown himself down on top of Steven.

"The weight of him was ... something else. I'd never felt a man lying on top of me before. And," Steven said in a low tone of confession, "I liked the feel of so much of his skin on contact with mine."

But Bronn had a strong urge upon him, and after asserting his dominance by the weight of his body, he'd raised himself, grabbed Steven's knees and spread them apart and lifting his legs.

"I wanted him to do that," Steven admitted.

And then Bronn had said, "This is the other thing I've wanted to do since the first time I saw you. I want to fuck you, and I want to watch your face while I do."

Oh my god. In my mind I could see--vividly--my fiancé on his back, legs up and spread, the larger Bronn above him and looking down on his conquest, his cock poised to fuck.

He'd then apparently just grabbed Steven's silk underwear and shifted it aside roughly, exposing him.

"Sorry, baby," Steven interrupted his story, "the new underwear got torn."

"Don't worry about the damned underwear," I said, "just tell me what happened next."

I was still dying to know how big Bronn was, but I needed it to come from Steven.

He paused for a long time. "This part is hard," he said.

"Tell me!" I ordered, desperate.

"His cock is big. Really big. I knew it from when I sucked him, but then seeing it in the light and knowing what he wanted next--it scared me."

I knew it! I exulted. In my most secret fantasy of two men together, one of them being my man, I wanted him to be fucked by a big cock. The bigger the hotter. I don't know why, but that image made me wild inside.

"At the same time," Steven continued, "I was so turned on, and I wanted it inside me. I wanted that man to fuck me with it." The look on his face as he told me that ... like I was his secret confessor and he'd just revealed a hidden part of his soul to me.

He then said he'd given Bronn an open invitation by reaching down and tearing his own silk underwear the rest of the way open, exposing his cock--"I was so hard, it almost hurt"--and then using his hands on his thighs to spread open his legs even more for Bronn to have access.

My fingers were thrusting inside my pussy, while my thumb flicked my clit. I almost wanted to get a dildo for my ass so I could experience vicariously what I knew was going to happen to Steven.

He told me: Bronn had leaned down, given him one long kiss--and then he'd thrust forward, pushing straight through the resistance. He'd given Steven a few moments to get used to the giant presence inside him--but then began fucking in and out with increasing urgency. Steven had grabbed his own cock, stroking it faster and faster as Bronn had pushed further into him, finally burying himself all the way. At that point, with Bronn's cock fully inside Steven's body, his balls slapping against the skin between Steven's anus and testicles, the two of them orgasmed simultaneously, Steven spraying onto his own belly and Bronn's cock spurting into Steven's ass.

As he reached that part of his story, my fingers sent me over the edge, and I collapsed back onto our bed in a wet, shuddering mess.

* *