tagGay MaleWhat If Pt. 02

What If Pt. 02


Part of me expected everything to change once the afterglow faded, once it completely sank in that I'd left my wife at home to come unload my balls into a stranger I'd just met at the gym. I expected guilt, anxiety, or the sudden return of caution and reason. But none of it came. I felt relaxed, satisfied, and connected to this stranger, Dylan, in a way I hadn't experienced in years. There was something about the way he carried himself, a calm self-assurance that was easy to trust. I wanted to stay there in his little apparent all night, touching, tasting, exploring-doing everything he'd let me do.

I stood and waited while Dylan adjusted the handles in the shower, watching his ass flex as he leaned away from me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, run my hands over those mounds of muscle, grip him by the hips and pull him hard against my dick and let the heat of his back soak into my chest. But I didn't. I'd just shot a load down his throat, but manhandling him like that still somehow felt a little too forward. Besides, my dick was still dripping from my last orgasm. I could wait.

When the shower began to steam, Dylan turned and gave me a friendly pat on the hip. "In you go," he said.

He didn't step aside as he brought his beer to his lips, so I had to squeeze past him to step through the open door into the tub. My half hard dick dragged against him, smearing a last little bead of come onto his hip.

He set held his beer out to me. "Finish this." I did and he took the empty back, setting it on the bathroom sink. "You want another?"

"No, thanks," I said, tilting my face up into the warm water. "I'm good for now."

Wiping his mouth, Dylan joined me in the shower, stepping close. I expected him to reach for soap or shampoo, but as the head of his hard dick slid along my stomach, lubricated by the hot water, he gave me a gentle shove. I grunted as my back connected with the cold tile on the wall and tried reflexively to lean back into the water, but he was on me, pinning me with his mouth. My second grunt softened into a moan as his tongue slipped past my lips.

I thought he might taste like me, like the load I'd pumped out onto his tongue, but all I could taste was beer and the water cascading down on us. I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him into me, savoring the sweet smell of his breath and the stubble that rasped against mine. A corner of my mind noted that new sensation as we explored each other's mouths.

The third time we came up for breath, Dylan tongued his way along my jaw to my neck. He sucked gently just above my shoulder before lifting his lips to my ear. "You ever had someone put their tongue in your ass?"

I groaned and reached down to grip his cheeks with both hands. "No," I said.

I kneaded his ass with both hands, pulling his hard body against mine while I exposed his hole to the water. His aggression had released something in me. I didn't have to be nice, I realised. I could touch him, grab him, hold him. I could do all the things I'd always wanted to do with the stacked guys I saw in the showers at the gym.

Dylan licked up from my collar bone, past my Adam's apple, to scrape his teeth along my chin. "Wanna see what it feels like?"

I let my head fall back to rest against the tiles. "Yes," I said. I laughed, not quite able to believe it was happening. "Please."

"I bet you do." Dylan pulled my earlobe between his teeth before leaning to the side to grab a bottle of body wash. "We're gonna tick all your boxes tonight."

He spent the next little while scrubbing me down. When he got to my ass I wanted to tell him that I was clean and ready, but the sensation of his wide hands massaging soap into my body was too powerfully erotic to rush. I lost track of time, of myself, as his fingertips pushed soap under my arms, as he gently scratched suds into the hair between my legs, as his thumbs rolled tension and worry from the muscles along my spine.

When his hands finally dropped away I almost lost my balance. He made a warm, knowing noise in his throat.

"I should charge for this," he said. He swatted my ass. "My turn."

I did my best to return the favor, taking my time to shampoo his hair and lather his skin from head to calf, but it wasn't long before my dick began to thicken again. When I stood to let him rinse, my lengthening shaft nestled between the cheeks of his ass.

"There we go," he said, looking over his shoulder. "Ready for round two?"

I laid my hands on the sides of his chest and slid them down to his hips, pulling him gently against my hardening dick. "Ready when you are."

He turned and met my lips with his. He cradled my head with both hands while our tongues slid over each other and our shafts ground together.

"Ok," he said, breaking away. "Turn around and put your hands against the wall. I want that ass. Been thinking about it all afternoon."

I did as I was told and my heart began to beat a little faster as he sank to his knees behind me. When he spread my ass with both hands and pressed his tongue to my hole, my mouth fell open in a moan that filled the bathroom. He laughed, sending another little wave of pleasured through me, but he didn't pulled his tongue away.

I'd always fantasized about getting rimmed. I'd wet my fingers and played with myself to see what it might feel like, but nothing prepared me for the sensation of having a man's tongue working its way into my ass. He had his whole face buried between my hairy cheeks to press his mouth against me. His tongue, wet and strong, swirled and dug into me, lubricating and opening me up. Each time he shook his face, nuzzling, I moaned.

I hiked one of my legs up on the edge of the tub to give Dylan better access to my hole. I wanted him to spread me wide open as he fucked me with his hard, thick tongue, and I pushed myself back onto his face each time he dug deep, trying to help him go deeper still.

Water ran down my back and over my hole when he pulled back slightly. I bent at the knees, instinctively chasing the sensation of his mouth, but he held me still with both hands on my ass so he cold lean forward and gently scrapped the rough hair on his chin against my hole.

"Jesus fuck."

Dylan laughed against my hole and plunged his tongue into me again before backing off again. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I never want to get out of this shower," I said, panting. It was getting harder to hold myself up. Each of his assaults on my hole made my knees weak.

"You sure?" Dylan pressed his face into my ass again and stirred his tongue against my slick, tingling hole. "This is all you want to do?"

It wasn't. I looked down between my legs to Dylan's dick. It stood up between his thighs like a tent pole, long and intimidatingly thick. I'd never taken anything more than a finger and I didn't know if I'd be able to manage it, but in that moment I couldn't think of anything I'd ever wanted to do more than squat down and let that piece stretch me open as it slid inside.

"I want your dick," I said, my voice a little breathless. "I want to feel you in me. I wanna get fucked."

Dylan didn't answer. Instead he buried his tongue in my ass and reached up to wrap his fist around my dick. He gave it a slow stroke as he pressed his face forward to tongue fuck me. Waves of pleasure crashed back and forth between my ass and the end of my dick. When he stroked me again my knees almost gave out.

"I think you're ready," he said, holding my thigh with one hand and climbing to his feet. "Let's dry off and head into the bedroom."

His room, dominated by a king sized bed, was just down the hall. I followed him in a daze, watching his ass roll and bounce as he walked. He was a specimen of manhood, muscular, hairy, and firm, and I could barely believe he was willing to walk me through these these experiences like I was some horny teenager. I stopped in the doorway.

"Thanks," I said.

He turned and frowned at me. "For what?"

I shrugged. "For all of this. I never thought I'd get to do anything like this."

Dylan smiled and came to stand in front of me. He moved one of my hands to his hot, throbbing dick, and reach up to grip my chin. He kissed me, hard, snaking his tongue into my mouth. "Wait until I fill you up with this thing," he said, and I felt his dick straining in my hand. "Then you'll be thanking me."

He had me lay on my back on the bed with a pillow under my lower back while he dug a bottle of lube from a set of drawers.

"Hold your legs up," he said, positioning himself between my knees.

I spread my legs and pulled my knees toward my chest.

"Now relax. I'm going to get you nice and loose before I fuck your married brains out." I heard the bottle squirt just before he smeared something warm onto my hole with his fingertips. "You ready?"

"I think so."

He started with one finger, pushing gently but steadily. It was a strange sensation, not uncomfortable, but nothing like his tongue. My wife had put a finger in my ass before when she blew me, but never so far. I waited for the pleasure to start, tried to to stay still, but I think he read impatience on my face. He stopped.

"You doing ok?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm good." I'd deal, I figured, if that's what I had to do in order for him to push his dick into me.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, definitely." When I paused, my mouth still open, he cocked his head and raised an eyebrow encouragingly. "I just really wanna get fucked," I said. It was a thrill to say those words out loud while a man like Dylan had his finger in my ass. It felt right. Liberating.

"You mean you want to skip right to the good part."

"Is there some procedure that says we can't?" Even in my own ears I sounded a little more confrontational than I intended.

"No, smartass. But it's generally considered more pleasant if I loosen you up first. I don't want to hurt you your first time."

"What if we just go slow?"

"What if," Dylan said, pushing again gently until his finger was all the way in, "we do this?"

At the same moment that his fist pressed against my hole, he did something in my ass and a throb of pleasure hit me somewhere behind my dick. As I bucked my hips involuntarily, Dylan leaned down and sucked my half-hard dick into his mouth. I moaned at the wet heat of his tongue and suddenly the pleasure in my ass was magnified. I bucked and moaned again.

Dylan bobbed up and down my hardening shaft a few times before he released me, letting my hard on wave in the cool air of the bedroom while I tried to thrust back into his mouth.

"Have you never had someone finger your prostate? Your wife?"

"She didn't like going in too far," I said. I reached one hand down to aim my dick up at his mouth again. "Don't stop."

He sucked me in a slow, leisurely way, not trying to get me off, just distracting me from the things he was doing to my ass. He pulled out briefly for more lube, then started on a second finger. He slipped in gradually, knuckle by knuckle, until he had his fist against my hole again. I pulled my knees tighter to my chest as he ground against me, stirring his fingers around and grazing my prostate.

I don't know how long we kept at it, but I was beginning to feel another orgasm creep up on me when he finally finished working a third finger into me.

"I can't wait any longer," he said. He stroked my dick loosely while he looked down at me. "You look so hot like this. I'm going to fuck you until you taste colors."

I let my head fall back loosely onto the bed. Finally.

"Fuck me," I said. "I want to feel you inside me."

A moment later Dylan's fingers were gone and a wide, blunt heat pressed against my hole.

"I'll go slow," he said. "Just relax and tell me if you need me to stop."

I didn't answer, just held my breath and took it. I should have waited, should have asked him to slow down, but I knew the pain would transform into something else, something I'd only dreamed about, so I waited and gritted my teeth against the burn. Dylan would have slowed down if I asked him to, I knew him at least that well by then, but I didn't want to wait. I wanted to get fucked.

When he bottomed out against my hole, he sighed with satisfaction and smiled. "You take it a champ," he said, both hands behind my knees. "How's it feel?"

It still hurt a little bit, but the pain was fading. Left behind was a feeling of fullness, of pleasure, but above it all, inside it all, was a feeling of connectedness. I had another man inside me. I had a man's hard dick in my ass and he wanted to use me, my body, to get off. The sensation, the intimacy, was more than I had anticipated. It felt incredible.

Dylan reached down and put a hand on my chest. "Hey, you doing ok?"

I realized my mouth was hanging open.

"Yeah," I said. "God. This feels so good. I never want you to take it out."

"Maybe just a little," Dylan said, and I felt him sliding out of me, "so I can do this."

He slid home again and all I could do was whimper as he ground himself against my hole. I let go of my knees and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. I wanted him on me, against my chest, sweating and running his tongue over my skin as he pushed into me over and over again. He must have understood my need, because he spread his knees wide and bent down to tuck his forehead against the side of my neck as he drove into me. I could feel his breath on my collar bone as I reached up to hold him, pressing our bodies together.

He fucked me slowly at first, letting me get used to the sensation of his dick sliding in and out of me, but when I began to writhe underneath him, bucking up to meet his hips, he must have realized I was ready to take a little bit of punishment.

He gave me a little pat on the ass as he sat up and pulled out. "Roll over and get on your hands and knees. Time for some real fucking."

I flipped over and got on all fours. I arched my back low and put my ass in the air. Dylan took the opportunity to plunge two fingers into my ass and I grunted as he hit my prostate.

"Look at you," he said. "You're a fucking pro." He pulled his fingers out and took up position behind me. He slapped his wet dick against my ass a few times before lining the head up with my hole. "You ready for this? You ready to take a pounding?"

I let my head drop between my arms. "Give it to me," I said. "Fuck me."

Dylan slammed into me almost before I'd finished the sentence and the force of it pushed a grunt out of my open mouth. I gripped the sheets with both hands as he took me by the hips and began hammering.

I realized almost immediately that I liked the force of his hips slamming against my ass almost as much as I liked the way I could feel every inch of his wide dick sliding in and out of me. The clapping sound of sweaty skin against skin filled the room and I lost myself in all of the sensations fighting for my attention as Dylan dug his fingers into my hips and rode me.

It took all of my will power not to reach down and stroke myself off while he had his way with my ass. I wanted to come every moment he pummeled me, using my ass like he owned it, but another part of me wondered what might come next. I couldn't know whether I'd ever be in that bed again or if I'd have the courage to find some other guy to fuck-maybe on one of my business trips, or at some seedy bar a few towns over. But Dylan had said that we could do everything, or as close to everything as we could manage, and there was still one more thing I had on my list. I decided to see if still had the stamina for it.

I pushed myself up so I could stand on my knees while Dylan continued to plunge his dick in and out of my hole. As I tottered, trying to lean back against him, Dylan let go of my hips and wrapped both his arms around my midsection, crushing me to his chest. I reached back and dug my fingers into his hair, grunting each time he slammed into my ass.

"When do we switch places?"

Dylan slowed his fucking, but didn't stop. I could feel his breath punching against my ear.

"Are you serious?"

I let go of his hair and reached around behind us both to grip his ass with one hand. "You said we could try everything."

"Jesus Christ. You," he said, dragging his palms from my chest down to my stomach, "are fucking insatiable." He raked his blunt fingers back up to my ribs and squeezed, hard. He grunted, bit my shoulder, and finally stopped driving into my ass. With a growl he pulled out of me and shoved me face first onto the bed.

When I rolled over to look at him he was sitting on his heels, hand on his hips, trying to catch his breath. His dick stood straight out, throbbing, red, and shiny with lube. Finally, he blew out a breath that rounded his cheeks.

"Yeah," he said, almost to himself. "Ok. Fuck it. Let's do this." He tossed the bottle of lube at me. "You fucking maniac. Get nice and wet. I'm coming in hot."

When he stood up and walked over to put a foot on each side of my hip, getting into squat position, I upended the bottle of lube over my dick and squeezed. A flood of clear, oily lube coated my dick.

Dylan nudged my hip with a toe. "That stuff isn't cheap. You're buying the next bottle."

I smiled at his tone, exasperated, business-like, but throaty with need all at once. It was the kind of banter I never had with my wife during sex. I didn't realize it was possible. But it wasn't just his tone that had caught my attention. As he lowered himself down onto me his last words rattled around in my head: "the next bottle." Next time.

"Push some of that into me," he said when his ass was hovering over my dick.

I smeared my palm against his crack, letting my middle finger glide over the hot ring of muscle at the center.

Dylan leaned down and put his fist on my chest to steady himself. "Get in there," he said. "Work some of it in."

Pushing cautiously, I slid my middle finger into the tight heat of his hole.

He grunted. "There we go. Ok, ready?"

"If you are."

Dylan reached down to point my dick at his asshole. "Let me do the work," he said. "It's been a while."

I looked up at him, watching his face as the head of my dick made contact. He frowned in concentration as he lowered himself down. When I felt the head of my dick disappear inside him, his mouth popped open and I grunted at the hit, enveloping tightness.

He punched me lightly in the center of my chest, still not looking at me. "Stay still."

I held my breath as he slowly slid all the way down onto me. I gripped the sheets in both fists and closed my eyes, savoring the achingly slow glide of his ass down my shaft.

"There we go," he said, when he finally settled his full weight onto my lap. "Stings a little. Gimme a minute."

I lay flat on my back, completely still, concentrating on the incredible heat of his ass. "Take your time."

"Thanks," he said, "generous of you."

To keep myself back from the edge, I let my mind wander while he adjusted. I thought about the people who might live downstairs, whether they were students who might have seen me at the gym before. Maybe they knew Dylan as Coach Hartness. Maybe they were on his team and they knew about his penchant for fucking random married men he met at the campus gym. It could be that they'd heard us in the living room and Dylan's newest conquest had already become casual gossip in certain athletic circles. Guys I'd seen at the gym, in the showers, might even know who I was. They could have seen me with my wife, could know that I was married and that my wife worked on campus.

The idea terrified me but the possibility of that kind of exposure, that recognition of the desires I'd been hiding for a decade, was exhilarating. To be seen that way, as a stud who could hold his own in bed with other guys, college guys, ripped athletes and coaches, gave me a rush. No one knew where I was, no one had seen me climb the stairs to Dylan's apartment, but I suddenly liked the idea that someone might have.

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byxsbelle© 10 comments/ 12602 views/ 16 favorites

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