Author’s note:I deliberated breaking this story into multiple parts but chose to keep it one long story since the is what I prefer to read. It’s been awhile since I’ve written a story, so I am a bit rusty. I really enjoy hearing from readers and am open to any input you may have. [email protected]
I immediately noticed him in the lobby of the gym as we were waiting for the class to start. I’d conditioned myself over my adult life to avert eye contact with men for fear my secret would be revealed. But his remarkably blue eyes set against his olive skin and dark beard stubble won the tug-of-war in my brain. Little did I know the life-enhancing impact this furtive glance would have on me.
I’m a long-time member of a popular gym that incorporates intervals of rowers, treadmills and weights for full-body workout. There are lots of regulars that I have gotten to know over-time, so when a new face comes in – especially an attractive guy – I typically take notice. In addition to his eyes and swarthy looks, he checked off several other boxes for those I like to place in my “spank bank:” Short (~5’8”), thick, meaty ass and quads and a disarmingly friendly smile.
I waited for him to enter the gym studio so I could walk directly behind him. I transfixed on the rhythm of his muscly cheeks moving as he walked toward and stepped up on his treadmill. Lucky for me that day my assigned rower was behind and to the left of him, providing a view that would either distract or inspire me to row harder. The treadmills are aligned against a mirrored wall, which gave me a view of the front of his upper body in the mirror along with the view of his entire backside right in front of me. Before the coach-led class officially begins, most participants begin warming up on their respective equipment. I was doing long, slow rows while he started to jog at a moderate pace. He was wearing 5” shorts that hugged his cheeks and which enabled me to watch the movement of each muscle across his entire posterior chain. He clearly lifted weights and had great definition, but was not as lean or cut like a bodybuilder.
As the class started and the music kicked in, he picked up his pace. As he did, the flash of a small piece of gold jewelry dangling around his neck caught my attention as it bobbed up from its nest in his hairy chest almost to the beat of the music. I could tell he was totally “in the zone” of his workout and not paying attention to anything or anybody around him. Between the earnest look he had on his face, to the necklace dancing up and down to studying the muscle movement of his entire backside, my eyes were having a feast. As the class rotated to the next block of equipment, I stayed on my rower to watch him pass and noticed that the gold object of my attention around his neck was a small cross or crucifix. Because we were on different rotations, we were out of eyesight for the remainder of the class. As everyone gathered for the post workout stretch, the coach called out as they regularly do “please congratulate Carlos who just completed his first class.” He flashed a big smile and I now had a name to the guy I’d secretly been crushing on.
I often walk over to the coffee spot a few doors down for an ice water and a black Americano after class. As I was ordering that day I saw Carlos walk in and stand in the line about two people behind me. Impulsively, I asked the person ringing me up to put whatever he was having (pointing to Carlos) on my card. I was waiting for my drinks when Carlos called out “thanks boss” to which I responded “welcome to the gym!” He smiled and waved and I went on my way home. I’m a pretty reserved and careful guy. It’s rare for me to show even that level of interest. What’s even more rare is that one sighting results into masturbation material but that night I beat off fantasizing about having an encounter with Carlos in the gym shower. I imagined spreading his ass and tonguing what I pictured to be a tight and hairy hole, licking the sweat off his dark, furry chest and playing with the nipples I’d seen through his sweaty shirt. His ass, his eyes and that little gold cross definitely flipped a switch in me.
I’m a professional, known in the community (physician) with a wife and family so the thought of a random sexual encounter with him was pure fantasy. Besides at 60, I was probably around 30 years older than Carlos and the cross around his neck led me to believe that he was religious and therefore not thinking the same erotic thoughts as me. Regardless of that, the thought of having an attractive buddy at the gym was still a nice motivation.
It was 2 or 3 more classes before Carlos and I saw each other at the gym again. This time he started on the rower right next to me and immediately reiterated his thanks for the gesture at the coffee shop the week before. We chatted a bit as we warmed up and he mentioned that he’d been back to the gym a couple more times and that he really liked the workout. Despite our age difference, our fitness levels were comparable. Enough so that we had some playful competition throughout the workout including a distance challenge on the treadmill – shorter distance buys coffee after workout. The competitor in me risked passing out to beat him by 1/10th of a mile.
We were both dripping sweat as we did the instructor lead post workout stretches. Carlos shirt clung to his chest and I caught myself trying to make out what his soaked, nylon shirt was revealing underneath it. I was looking so closely I could even see that the cross on the chain around his neck had beads of sweat hanging from it. I felt less conspicuous staring since he no longer felt like a stranger which in my mind justified more license to stare.
Carlos and I ended up staying at the coffee shop for over an hour chatting on a broad list of topics from working out, to family, to jobs. I learned Carlos was Cuban American and had recently moved to Chicago from Miami with his job. The gym was his most social outlet so far and he said the routine was helping make him feel more at home. In fact, he mentioned that my initial gesture of the welcome coffee was a turning point for his acclimation to the city. The more I spoke with him the more fascinated I was with the incongruence of a macho Latin guy (despite his slight accent he was born in the US) and sereness. He looked and moved with strength and confidence but one-on-one was so gentle and genuine. As a man attracted to another man there is always the question in my mind of “could he be attracted to guys?” I’ve never been one with an accurate gaydar nor would I ever be bold enough to ask. He gave no indication during our conversation and the religious symbol around his neck blocked out the chance of any latent expectations I may have had about him. Despite this, I felt a different kind of connection between us that I’d not felt with other male friends.Yet I was convinced that even if in my fantasy a flicker of interest existed, it certainly would be extinguished when I mentioned that I had kids his age.
Running into him at the gym and meeting for the occasional coffee continued for several months. Despite our socializing never extending beyond the gym and Starbucks, our conversations most often went beyond surface level, covering politics, fitness, food, careers, family and I felt a real kinship forming and I think Carlos did as well.
Our relationship took an interesting turn the Thursday before Thanksgiving. I was at a restaurant with some work colleagues and as we were leaving, I noticed that Carlos was sitting at the bar. Never seeing him in anything other than workout clothes, it took a minute to register that it was him. I said my goodbyes to my colleagues and walked over to the bar, sitting down in the open seat next to him. I gave him a playful “hey buddy” slap on the back and made a joke about how the Florida boy was handling the first blast of Chicago winter expecting his typical, jovial response but it was taken back by the lack of reaction. He kept staring forward with his hands on his drink. It looked like he had not only been crying but clearly had more than he could handle to drink. With slurred words and still facing forward he simply said “I’m fucked.” He said it with so much desperation that I was actually a bit scared. I said “I have time and ears and am happy to sit here and listen if you want” He responded that he was in no shape to go anywhere at this point and took me up on the offer. I suggested we move over to one of the hightops in the bar where it was a bit more private and perhaps he’d feel more comfortable speaking. While I don’t have any formal psychology training, as a physician, I am experienced with people in crisis and have learned over time how to get people to talk. It started slow, but it didn’t take too much prodding to get Carlos to open up.
I learned that he grew up in a tight-knit, large Catholic family in Miami. His upbringing was deeply rooted in the church and church activities. His life centered around this close community and most of his best friends growing up were relatives. There was little privacy, lots of cultural expectations and everyone was invested in each other’s lives. He said it never really bothered him because that’s all he knew. His Dad died when he was in middle school, but aunts and uncles were always around to help raise him. He described a pretty happy upbringing. When he got the offer to relocate to Chicago for his job he was a bit torn. It was a great opportunity but he got a lot of pressure to stay – it was rare for family members to leave South Florida. But he really wanted to take the role and he found himself really drawn to experiencing life elsewhere.
He had a story that I and I’m sure many others could relate to – he stuffed his true feelings of attraction to other men inside and outside of masturbating, never pushed his sexuality beyond what he believed was “normal” including a meaningful sex life with women. And when he was finally on his own in a new city where he knew virtually nobody, he began to take incremental steps to explore what he’d expertly kept bottled up. He learned a lot through virtual relationships – chats, emails, masturbation sites that got him off but never consummated in person. He started going to bars he had read were “gay hookup” places but never really connected with anyone and the several times he was approached, he never had the courage to follow through. He spoke matter-of-factly about all of this without a lot of angst and while I could start to see what was under his anxiety, it still was not clear to me what got him to this low point. It was a one-way conversation for at least the first 30 minutes, with me simply nodding and acknowledging. Clearly there was something he was not saying and I simply asked him “have you ever had a sexual experience with a guy?” This is when his whole demeanor changed from matter-of-fact to tears welling up and a vulnerability that made me just want to reach out and hug him. He did not come out and say it but I recognized the guilt and shame inside him. I noticed the cross around his neck start to slowly sway along with each whimper. He went on to tell me that he got to a point that he simply wanted to have sex. In desperation and with inhibitions numbed by his swollen libido he made his way to a bathhouse. This city has some notorious ones which he’d read about and that were actually not too far away. He went back to speaking more matter of factly, when describing his experiences at them. He recognized that part of his initial courage to take the plunge came from his justification that he could go and just look without any obligation to participate – kind of a live version of what he did online. He went on to tell me he did just that on his first trip. He shared that the most anxious part was stepping in the door and registering. He talked about the feeling of excitement as he got undressed in a locker room where everyone was actually there for the same reason he was. He said he wrapped his towel around his waist and never took it off during his stay. Part of him thought he’d feel like a kid in a candy store but he admitted that the sounds, smells and sights were more stimulation than he was ready for. He saw so much more than he expected – guys in all sizes, ethnicities and ages. Big cocks, small cocks in various stages of erection. Men his grandfather’s age having aggressive intercourse with other older men and with guys who could have been their grandson’s age. The most shocking sight he mentioned was two, younger hairless blond men double penetrating what looked to be a hairy bodybuilder’s ass. While the description of his experience may sound like an erotic story, again he described it to me in a factual, non-emotional way, kind of like a technical description. I was a little uncomfortable with what he was sharing and tried to make a funny comment to break the tension. I asked if he was wearing the cross around his neck in the bath house, thinking of the irony. He explained that he never takes it off – that it was his father’s and he keeps it on all the time as a reminder and guardian. While I felt embarrassed and stupid for that comment, Carlos took it with the intended humor and the conversation nonetheless later got me ridiculously horny especially picturing Carlos undressing and walking around in his towel.
While Carlos revealed a lot, I was still not clear what had induced his anxiety. He was obviously coming to terms with his sexuality but his despondency seemed so much deeper than that. So I pushed a little harder asking him to connect the dots for me between the bathhouse visits and what he’s feeling right now but he suggested ordering another drink first. I questioned if that was wise and he said he did not care. Carlos ordered 2 shots of Tequila which he quickly drank and proceeded to continue talking about a series of subsequent visits he made to the bathhouse how he had been engaging in increasing levels of sexual activity each time. He jokingly referred to it as “Cock College” learning how to expertly suck cock, rim, penetrate a guy in multiple positions, clean out his ass and be bottomed. The only encounter he described in any detail was when was fucked in a sling and he finally felt the deep pleasure of getting his prostate massaged and orgasming from it. I was still in awe of his candor with me – a relative stranger – and of his body count in such a relatively short period of time. I had experienced only a tiny fraction of what he had. It told him that I was honored that he felt comfortable enough with me to share all of this very personal stuff and began to question “why me?” That made Carlos well up again and say that he felt trust with me and did not know where to go for advice. At this point I thought he was looking for “coming out” counsel but it was something totally different. He proceeded to tell me that he had the symptoms and had done the research that convinced him he had contracted an STD. The sobs became heaves and he buried his head in his hands.
I had logged enough time in free clinics to understand STD’s and how to treat them so I was able to assure Carlos that it was not the death sentence he’s imagining. He mentioned he felt like he was being punished which made me quickly realize that his reaction came from a toxic combination of fear, shame, guilt and embarrassment. I reiterated my gratitude for his trust and asked him about his symptoms and exactly why he was so sure he had contracted a disease from sex. He described a discharge from the tip of his penis and an unusual ache and swelling in his balls. I told him it could very well be Chlamydia or Gonorrhea, both of which are easily curable. I assured him that I would help him with finding treatment and mentioned that there were also prescriptions that could prevent contracting them in the future. I said “here’s what we’ll do, you are in no condition to drive, so I will take you home, get you settled and tomorrow I will set you up for treatment.” I assured him that this was a learning experience and not the end of the world.
The ride to his apartment was quiet with Carlos repeatedly and drunkenly thanking me. I got him up to his apartment, helped him unlock the door and settle. He said he wanted to take a shower and go straight to bed and headed toward the bathroom. He was so unsteady on his feet that I told him I’d stay until he got into bed. He kinda grunted, went into the bathroom, closed the door and I heard the shower turn on. About the time I started to wonder if he was OK in there, I was relieved to hear the shower turn off. A few minutes later Carlos walked out with a towel around his waist with a heavy trail of stem from the shower following him out the door. For a moment, I went from Dr. mode to “man in heat” when I saw Carlos’s furry, bare chest. His physique was more defined than I had imagined and the area around his nipples were darker and larger than I had pictured through his soaked shirt at the gym. His back was hairless except for a dense patch in the small of his back above where the towel covered his ass. Even with the towel drape, I could make out the lines of his round ass. He came over to me, said he was feeling better, shook my hand and again thanked me profusely. I told him I was simply in the right place at the right time. The image of him sheepishly walking toward me in his towel and the scent of his soap are senses I filed for later use
Everyone was asleep in my house when I got home that night and I decided to get into the bathtub and take a long soak and decompress from the evening. When I undressed to get in the tub my soft cock was so engorged that it was unrecognizable from the compactness of its typical soft state. I laid back against the back of the tub and quickly went to thoughts of encountering Carlos in his towel at a bathhouse. With one hand squeezing my furry balls which were dropped and relaxed from the warm bath water and the other stroking my now erect dick, it was not long before I ejaculated with one thick stream landing on my tongue that I savored and swallowed. I laid in the cummy water for about ten more minutes, dried off, got into bed and slept a deep sleep.
I called Carlos the next morning right before my first appointment. He had already retrieved his car and seemed to be in a much better frame of mind after a good night’s sleep and we made arrangements to meet at the clinic during my midday break in appointments. He met me at the entrance and greeted me with an unexpected bear hug. Nothing sensual – just a warm greeting between friends that felt really good. Carlos met with the physician on duty, gave some blood and fluid samples and the Dr explained the course of antibiotics if the labs were positive (but based on the symptoms, he said there was a good chance they were) and explained partner notification. His relief was palpable and he continued to express his gratitude for all I did. I had to head back to work but we made plans to workout at the same time the following morning (Saturday). We worked out a couple more times before Thanksgiving and made plans to grab breakfast together the day after Thanksgiving.
His gonorrhea was confirmed the day before Thanksgiving and he took it really well, given his initial conversations with the Dr. By Friday, it was just a small speed bump but an extraordinary lesson on managing his sexual health. Carlos kicked off our breakfast by saying “I bared my soul to you and now it’s your turn.” That caught me off-guard but I thought it was fair nonetheless. It’s tough to make new friends at my age let alone someone you feel comfortable enough with to open up. But I was really at ease with Carlos. No doubt I was attracted to many things about him physically, I genuinely enjoyed being with him and how I felt around him. It was not school-girl giddy, but more a sense of confidence and assurance. His first question was a lay-up “how do you stay so fit at your age…you have the strength and endurance of guys half your age.” I said it’s simply consistency. What started as a stress reducer in my early 40’s has evolved to something I build into my schedule. It forces my mind to focus on one thing for the hour I’m there and I’m addicted to that feeling. After a bit of discussion he asked “so what do you feel about me?” I responded that I thought he was in great shape as well and it was obvious he took exercise really seriously. He said “that’s not exactly what I meant – how do you feel about me personally?” I told him he’s quickly become a trusted friend. I enjoy the camaraderie in the gym and the realness of the discussions we have when we get together, unlike the more surface and transactional discussions I seem to have with other friends. “The workouts are always better when you are there” I said to him, not really seeing something behind what I thought was an innocent question. He paused, seemed to blush, looked me in the eye and said “I’m physically attracted to you and I keep feeling like you might feel the same way.” On the inside I was genuinely shocked, but on the outside I worked really hard to hold back any emotion or indication that he was right. Before I could say anything, he said that he found himself thinking about touching me, kissing me, showering with me, stopping short of getting more graphic. Still stunned and silent, he continued to say that he never thought he’d be attracted to a guy closer to his parent’s age than his own. But it was in fact a man closer to my age who took him under his wing, showed him the ropes and took his virginity.
Now it was my turn to well up. He’d hit a nerve that opened me up like a faucet. I proceeded to share my sexuality journey with him and that while I had had several sexual encounters with men, it was never more than sex. Most had been with paid professionals but there had been a few with acquaintances, but none with whom I had any emotional feelings. I shared with Carlos my initial physical attraction to him, what I interpreted about the cross he wore and how over time the intensity of my feelings grew along with the depths of my denial. I convinced myself that my feelings were nothing more than fantasy and the realities of a man at my stage in life preventing me from letting myself acknowledge what I felt for him. By the end of my rambling on, I did admit to the times I masturbated thinking about him, especially draped in the towel around his waist.
This conversation definitely took our relationship to a much different place. But we’d been talking for a while that morning and decided to pause the discussion there. I had a lot to process about what we had shared and we agreed to continue the discussion without any commitment on a timeline. We did agree though that we’d take a class at the same time that Sunday.
We worked out together several times over the next two weeks…we did not have any further discussions but I did notice that both of us were much more comfortable “innocently” touching each other during workouts. I really looked forward to being with him.
During one of our earlier discussions, Carlos mentioned that his Grandmother was a great cook and made sure he had some good skills before he went to college. In the middle of December, he said he was planning on making a Ropa Vieja which apparently takes a day or two to prepare and I would join him for dinner. I said “I’d love to” and in fact am free the upcoming Friday and Saturday as my wife was doing a pre-Christmas trip out of town to her sister’s. “I’m thrilled for someone to feed me” (that is a pun, but at that point it was unintended).
We decided Friday would be the day and as it got closer, I got more and more anxious thinking about all the possibilities and all my insecurities. I eventually calmed myself down by deciding I would not overthink it and simply enjoy the meal and time with Carlos. I got home from work, showered and picked up a couple bottles of Spanish wine. I could still feel my nerves as I knocked on his apartment door, but the sight of him and the aroma of the simmering meat settled me down real fast. Carlos looked and smelled great. He’s the type with a 5 o’clock shadow by 11 am but he was clean shaven which made his blue eyes even more intoxicating. He was wearing a pair of faded Levi’s that hugged his quads and ass perfectly and a black v-neck sweater with no shirt underneath and his small gold cross was front and center. He did not smell cologne-y, but he smelled clean. I was wearing a pair of Lululemon ABC pants (also pretty form fitting around my muscled glutes), a fitted T-shirt and an open flannel. Carlos lived in an older Chicago apartment building that actually had a working fireplace which was lit and he had some Christmas music on in the background. The ambiance was pretty cozy and relaxing. Dinner was ready but we decided to open the wine and have a drink in front of the fire before we sat down to eat. One glass became three as we talked about family and holiday traditions and other things that were going on in the world. Often when people with this age gap are together there can be a bit of a natural power dynamic – older/wiser vs young/impressionable. With Carlos there was none of that. We spoke and interacted as equals.
I could have skipped dinner and sat in front of the fire drinking wine all night, but when Carlos got up to go into the kitchen, I followed him in. He asked me to give the pot several stirs then dish it out on a plate which is in the cabinet above your head. As I was reaching for the plates he said “can I ask you something?” I of course said “yes.” He asked “can I kiss you?” While I certainly thought things could “go there” I was admittedly caught off guard. I stopped what I was doing, turned to him and without breaking eye contact we went for each other’s lips. Tongues and eventually hands were all over the place. Kissing him was a fucking dream and I probably could have eventually cum feeling his ass over his jeans and grinding our cocks together. After what seemed like ten minutes we broke and he simply said “yep, that’s what I thought.” With a shit eating grin I said “what does that mean?” he responded with “I didn’t need to make dessert.” Ready for dinner?”
We sat down to eat and I can hardly remember what we talked about beyond that we were clearly hot for each other. I did recall him telling me he got retested a week after the antibiotic and was cleared. I had fantasized about this moment so many times in my head that it did not seem real. I imagined what Carlos’ ass would look like, what kind of a cock he had. Was he hung? Was he cut? Was he shaved? I also had some fleeting insecurities about my body. Was my cock too small? Could I take his dick? Could I get hard? All this while at the same time being at the highest level of arousal I could remember. Together we cleared the table and cleaned up the dishes after which I said. “After a meal like that, I actually could use some dessert.” Carlos said, follow me.
We proceeded into his bedroom where I immediately removed my flannel and went in for a kiss. Being about the same height made kissing standing up really comfortable and easy to roam my hands all over his body. His back was broad and hard as was his midsection as my hands drifted down his body. I could feel the strength in his glutes but he also had some nice padding making them irresistibly squeezable and responsible for the bounce I noticed the first day I saw him. I could not resist slipping my hands down the back of his jeans and feeling his ass for the first time. Definitely not shaven with a really deep crack. We broke from our embrace after a few minutes and he said “I want to watch you finish undressing.” I grinned slyly but still had a pang of insecurity hearing his request. I looked him in the eyes as I removed my tee. While I work to keep my body in shape, my skin, muscle tone, hair and physique won’t pass for a thirty five year old, but they’re all still in the right places and everything still works as it should. The hair on my head is more salt than pepper and thinner than it used to be, my chest is pretty hairy and definitely going gray, but I trim it so it’s not too unruly. My nipples are the size of a nickel and a little puffy and I have been told “very suckable.” My chest and upper back are more firm and broader than my waist but not the “V” it once was.
Carlos asked me to turn around which I did, and when I turned back around and his eyes were glued to me, giving me the confidence to stare back into his eyes as I pulled off my pants. Standing there in my boxer briefs that clung to my ass and thighs, I did another slow spin so my back was to him, bent over slightly and with my thumbs in the waistband, slowly pulled them down and stepped out of them. Carlos audibles made me feel he was happy with what he saw. I work really hard to keep my asses shape and try to delay the effects of gravity I see on men my age. While I was turned on by this exhibition, my nerves were keeping my penis soft. I’m definitely a grower and even at my age still a bit unnecessarily self conscious about it. I turned back around to reveal my cut cock which was around 3” at that point. We immediately resumed eye contact and Carlos slowly stepped forward to embrace me and began running his hands over my shoulders, then to my chest and nips, my belly and finally a slight stroke of my dick and cupping of my balls. Still clothed, he slowly dropped to his knees and put his face in my crotch, inhaling deeply and gently lifting my cock and kissing the head, running his tongue over it and into my pee slit. While doing this his hands were firmly on each of my ass checks, kneading and caressing while making softing moaning sounds. He proceeded to put the middle finger on his right hand in his mouth, getting it real wet and returning to my ass to explore my crack and asshole opening with it. That was the point where blood fully flooded my cock enticing Carlos to wrap his lips around its now 5.5, thick inches. He started slowly, spitting on the tip so it was really, really wet taking it down his throat quickly. I could feel the head press against his throat as his lips squeezed the base of cock right at the pubic bone. Carlos took my cock in and out of his mouth several times creating that friction that gave my cock the start of a pre ejaculation tingle. While I was not on the verge of cumming, it probably would not have taken long if he continued like that. Thinking back, there was also something about the dynamic of me standing there fully naked with him completely clothed that created this combination of excitement and vulnerability that set my senses on fire. I sat in the glow of that feeling for a while before I tapped him gently on the head and whispered, “your turn.”
Carlos looked up, locked eyes with me and went in for a deep kiss. It was fucking lovely to feel the combo of his stubble on my face and the smooth, slipperyness of his tongue exploring my mouth. He broke after a minute and again staring deeply into my brown eyes. His eyes were transfixed on me and took a second to take in what was actually happening here – I felt so seen and wanted. Carlos slowly kicked off each shoe and grabbed the bottom of his sweater with two hands and pulled it over his head in one motion, his cross momentarily getting stuck in the process but found its way nestled back in his dark chest hair once his sweater was completely removed. The gold caught the light which for a second diverted my eyes to his chest. My heart was pounding as he began to undo his jeans, pull them down and step out of them. Standing there in his black trunks I got a new appreciation for the thickness of his thighs which made his short trunks ride up a bit, accentuating what was in the front as well. If you can’t tell by now, while I certainly enjoy and appreciate cock, I have a profound weakness for a tight, round ass and when he slowly turned around to show me his, I was like a runner in the blocks at a track meet – poised to pounce. The fabric was silky and had some stretch to it, but again the thigh-driven ride up forced material into his crack accentuating each side of his glutes. With his back still to me, he quickly dropped his underwear and there it was in front of me. Pure hairy perfection. When he deliberately slowly bent over to pick them up off the floor I got a lingering look at his hairy hole, and I became possessed. This time I dropped to my knees, grabbed the front of his thighs and began to rub my face gently back and forth across his ass and up and down his crack. Breathing in deeply with every pass of my face I inhaled him, picking up a delicious combo of the fresh smell of our first embrace and a slight tinge of muskiness. I moved my hands to spread open his crack, spit on his hole and let my tongue trace around the rim and slowly dip in and out of the entrance to his hole. I’m not exaggerating when I say I could have done that for a half hour. His crack was so deep, both hands were needed to access his hole. I pulled back to get some air and Carlos let out a whimper when I stopped. Not one to disappoint, I returned and resumed my oral exploration. With one hand reaching around to the top of his left thigh, my other went under his ass to his scrotum. I gently cupped them while rolling them around in my hand. They are above average in size and felt pretty heavy. What surprised me most was how soft his sack was and that it seemed freshly clean shaven. My other hand was feeling its way through the jungle below his belly button. Carlos has a nicely hairy chest, but his belly fur is much less dense gradually thickening to his pubic area. As my top fingers were luxuriating in his fur, my bottoming fingers were brushing up against the top of his penis and I could feel it jump slightly every time it came in contact with my fingers. I slowly moved my hands down to encircle his shaft with my hand. It’s skin too was incredibly soft but definitely firm from blood flow. It was thick and I could wrap my fingers around it with not much room to spare. The shaft fit in the palm of my hand with only the head sticking out. He was close to fully erect when I began to slowly dry jack him. Carlos let out some light moans and moved his hips back and forth to meet the rhythm of my beating him off. He tapped out and I released my hand. While I was still crouched down, he turned around, giving me my first look at his total package. I had already felt that his foreskin was still intact, but between the thick bush, beautiful shape and thickness, the dark color of his shaft and balls (the head sticking out was much lighter pink), it was much more beautiful than I pictured in my jackoff fantasies. Before I stood back up, I could not resist tasting his cock. I’m by no measure an experienced cocksucker but by lubricating the tip with some spit, I easily took him all in my mouth and throat but the girth definitely made it a challenge to breathe. He was rock hard.
At this point my body had been in a squat position for a while and I suggested we get up on the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Carlos put his arms around me and we began to make out, eventually with me draped on top of his body. As he was kissing me around my neck, Carlos said quietly in my ear “I really want to fuck you.” With my penchant for ass, I’d always gravitated to topping. Other than an escort who used a dildo on me, I’d never experienced much anal penetration beyond fingers. I have nothing against it, but it was not something I felt I needed to experience. So when Carlos asked, the hunger in his deep blue eyes, the mischievousness of his grin and the throbbing of his cock made it impossible to say “no.” I was not really sure what to do so I rolled off of him and started to position myself on my back, with my knees bent and my feet flat on the bed. “Not yet, Boss” Carlos said. “I need to get you ready.” He proceeded to put his hands on each ass cheek, lifting them up off the bed with my legs a bit up in the air and he dove into my hole slobbering it up with everything he had. He went from rimming to licking to deep tongue fucking for a nice while only stopping for a minute to grab some lubricant from beside the bed. He poured the lube on my hole and began working it in with his finger. It felt pleasant. No pain. Then he slowly added a second finger which was still pleasant but added a satisfying feeling of fullness. With the addition of the third finger he exclaimed “yes” in a hushed tone at which point I began to feel my hole relax a bit more and began moving my ass to meet his fingers. Carlos instructed me to squeeze my ass muscles around his finger which I tried my best to do. After several minutes he directed my body to get on all fours, which put my ass more at his face level and he went back to teasing and fucking with his tongue followed by a succession of fingers. He praised the condition and tightness of my hole and asked if I was ready for his dick to which I said “yes” out loud but in my mind while his fingers felt nice, it was not getting me off or even closer to an orgasm. I certainly had not done any colon prep, so part of me was also worried about the embarrassment of not being “clean.” Still on all fours, Carlos said he wanted to enter me from behind in this position which I did not object to wanting to accommodate his desires. He spread more lube in and around my hole and I could hear him lubing up his cock as well. On his knees he held on to my waist with one hand while spreading my cheek with the other. I could feel him put the head of his penis on top of my hole. He paused for a second and I reached back to feel it and it was still super rock hard. After I moved my hand back to the bed he began to put more pressure against my hole with his dick and lean over my body, whispering “push out like you are taking a shit while I push in.” I was surprised how my rectum became a vacuum, virtually sucking his cock in. It took a minute to get used to the fullness and simply having something in my ass. Carlos continued to apply pressure with his cock but seemed to let it “stew” in there for a minute before he started to gradually move it in and out. White there was some discomfort at first, I had no pain and the discomfort was quickly replaced by an even more pleasant feeling than his fingers. It was not until Carlos began to move in and out did I really start to experience the joy of anal sex. I’m not sure if it was his size, our position, the angle but the head of his dick was hitting my prostate in perfect precision causing me to have a truly out of body experience. Carlos gave me great encouragement along the way and kept telling me if he didn’t keep stopping he would blow because his cock was getting squeezed perfectly.
This went on for about 10 minutes when we decided to take a break, both laying on our backs. I think if we had kept going I could have had an orgasm without touching my cock. I watched as Carlos’ sweat-glistening body got up off the bed and his bouncing ass walked to the kitchen to grab some water and on his way back marveled at how swollen his dick still was. After our break and a glass of water, I got on my back and asked Carlos to fuck me in missionary position so I could look at him while he was fucking me. I did not have to ask him twice as he quickly grabbed the lubed and applied it to both of us. He leaned over and gave me a deep kiss at which time I gave his dick a few tugs with my hand – it was definitely ready to go. Carlos put a pillow under my lower back raising my ass to better align with his cock. Positioned between my legs, he lifted one of them and easily slipped back in my anus. After a few strokes this felt even more glorious than when I was on all 4’s. I tried to stay active, meeting his thrusts which he varied between fast and slow. At one point he thrust deep and held his cock in place for a few seconds which seemed to make my prostate spasm and my body uncontrollable quake. If I had touched my cock at that point I would definitely have exploded, but Carlos slowed down his rhythm in time for me to last a little longer. As he slowed he repositioned slightly so his head was almost right over mine. I stared into his eyes as he continued to thrust in and out. This went on for a few minutes when he said he could not hold back any longer and asked directly while looking in my eyes if he could finish in my ass to which I gave him a slight nod indicating yes. With that, Carlos reached around my back, pulling us closer together and bringing our eyes inches from each other as he continued to thrust with determination, and with each thrust, his stomach rubbed the underside of my dick and pressed against my balls, heightening the intensity of my arousal. We both could feel the buildup between us. Carlos stared at me with intensity. Beads of musky sweat were dropping off his face onto mine as I felt the familiar feeling of my cum building in my balls and moving toward my shaft.
Carlos exploded first while his dick was buried as far as it would go in my ass. I was amazed how I could feel each pulse of cum ejaculating into my ass, each stream vibrating against my prostate propelling me to closely follow his orgasm. Carlos grunted as he pulled his sweaty body in even closer, pressing our bodies as close as they could be.
I never could have imagined that level of pleasure from a dick in my ass. By what I could feel on my stomach and in my rectum, both of us produced an extraordinary amount of ejaculate and I think I had dry cock spasms for a full two minutes after the cum stopped. Carlos pulled out his softening dick and I could hear the squish of the liquid as he did it. After laying together silently for several minutes, Carlos got up to get some towels to wipe ourselves up. Gravity was starting to do its job and Carlos’ cum was leaking out of my ass. I covered my hole with the towel and waddled over to the toilet to let it drain out. After a few minutes, Carlos joined me and straddled my lap while I was still on the toilet. He pulled my head into his chest, said some kind, sexy things and I looked up to see his face but all I could see was his cross, dangling from his neck dripping from his sweat. I lifted my tongue to take that cross in my mouth and sucked it clean.