Date: Fri, 23 Nov 2001 21:08:09 -0000
From: Nick <nakednick2@btinternet.com>
Subject: Across the road - Part 2

Across the Road

This is a true story about gay sex between a group of consenting adult
males.  If this offends you, you are under 18 or it is illegal in your
country, please close the file and leave now.  Otherwise, read on and enjoy!



Chapter 2 - Next Morning


I looked across to the bedside cabinet; the clock there said 6:45, there was
plenty of time yet.  Stewart and  Eric were lying on their backs, their
slow, rhythmic breathing attesting to a deep, untroubled sleep.  Keith was
on his front, twitching and breathing more unevenly; all were covered only
by a sheet, the duvet was on the floor. George was nowhere to be seen.

I slid out of the bottom of the bed from between Stewart and Eric, their
flaccid dicks were clearly outlined as I laid the thin sheet back over their
naked bodies.  I couldn't resist a quick grope but their breathing continued
its steady rhythm and their dicks remained dormant. There was a distinct
twitching in my groin but that would have to wait.

Keith was now uncovered and as I gently felt for his ass-hole, I had to step
sharply back as he suddenly turned over.  His short, thick dick sprang
immediately to attention and shot three or four spurts of creamy spunk on to
his chest.  He groaned a little but his breathing steadied as he quickly
settled back into his slumbers.  I had never seen a wet dream before and
could not resist scraping some of his load on to my fingers, licking it off
and swallowing it down my parched throat.

Still naked, I made my way downstairs.  I noticed that the pair of white
Chinos half way up the stairs was not accompanied by any underwear - so I
was right, George didn't have any pants on last night.  I looked into the
deserted lounge, discarded clothing littered the floor.  The cushions from
the settee were bunched up on the floor where our bodies had been.  I
switched off the redundant television set, its still blue screen
disappearing into a blurred spot in the centre.

I went through into the kitchen, George was leaning on the counter, drinking
a mug of coffee.  His smooth, black ass matched the texture of the worktop
but was in stark contrast to its polar whiteness.  His flaccid tool
protruded from his thick pubic bush and lay neatly over his ample, hairless
balls. He made no effort to cover himself as I walked in. I soon noticed
that both of us were stealing glances at each other's kit.

He greeted me warmly and poured me a mug of steaming coffee.  It seemed to
be the most natural thing in the world for two naked men, barely known to
each other, one old enough to be the other's father to be standing in
someone else's kitchen at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning drinking coffee!

After a few minutes banter, I could not resist reaching out for his tool and
rolling it briefly in my hand.  I fancied it began to harden, mine certainly
did as he grabbed it and went down on me.  In one smooth movement, almost
before I realised, my hardening dick was in his ample mouth and one of his
fingers slid smoothly up my ass. He worked with his tongue on my throbbing
tool and with his finger on my sensitive prostate.

Quickly, he brought me towards a screaming climax I could not resist and in
less than a minute, I was shooting my load down his red-hot throat.  By
then, his own dick was throbbing against his belly, the purple knob
glistening with a hint of pre-cum.  He pushed me gently away as he wanked
himself vigorously to a quick climax, shooting five or six jets of his cum
clear across the kitchen. As it dribbled slowly down the front of a cabinet,
he was down on his knees licking it from the cupboard door and swallowing
hungrily.

I needed a shower and had to get to work!  I pulled on my discarded clothes
I had sorted from the pile on the lounge floor.  I took my leave of George,
promising to see him again soon, slipped quietly out of the front door,
across the road and into my own house.  Just as I closed the door, the
telephone rang; it was my wife, 'Where had I been when she called last
night?' she wanted to know.  Thinking quickly and not wanting to tell her an
outright lie, I said that I must still have been out of the house,
explaining that I had spent most of the afternoon clearing up the garden.
She said it would have been pretty dark by then, but apparently accepted my
explanation and dropped the subject.

I said that I was about to get ready for work.  We chatted for a few
minutes, she hoped I wasn't too lonely on my own, she said loved me,
promised to call me again that evening and all the usual stuff, before
ringing off.

I threw off the clothes I had put on only minutes before, quickly shaved,
stepped into the shower and luxuriated there for a good ten minutes before
towelling myself dry. Still naked, I went to the kitchen, made myself some
tea and popped a couple of slices of wholemeal bread in the toaster.  I
wolfed down some cereal while the toast was cooking.  I ate the toast and
drank the tea while reflecting on the events of the last twelve hours.

As I quickly washed the pots, I enjoyed a few more minutes of total nudity.
I loved the freedom of being naked around the house, something my wife would
not allow when she was around.  Little did she know that whenever I got the
chance when she was out, I would strip off and enjoy that luxury.  Now and
then, I had even had the chance when working on my in some remote spot to
get stripped off in the open air. Inevitably that led to a fabulous, if
lonesome wank.

As I went to the bedroom to get dressed for work, I wondered what was
happening across the road.  I would have to get an update from Stewart just
as soon as I could!

I got to work on time and followed Jacques into the office.  He was about my
age, average build and looks, a Frenchman who had been married to a British
woman for twenty-two years and had three kids, all in their teens.  I had
once shared a twin room with him on a business trip. After dinner, we both
had a drink too many and let our hair down a bit. We told each other things
we probably ought not to have. Although nothing happened between us, we
found that we both shared an interest in men, usually other married men,
nothing serious, just an occasional fling.

Tom was already at work having been on an earlier shift. He was about thirty
years old, around six feet tall, with fair curly hair, blue eyes and looked
pretty fit.  He had been married to Claire for about two years and made no
secret of the fact that they were trying their utmost for a baby.  She also
worked for our company and, when the time was right, he often sneaked out
for a lunchtime shag, though so far apparently without success.

I was the manager in the major faults escalation bureau of a
telecommunications network operator, but being Easter Sunday, it was pretty
quiet so about ten o'clock, I told Tom he could go an hour or so before his
shift was due to end. I mischievously added that he would be able to spend
more of his Sunday with Claire.  Jacques gave him a knowing look and added a
ribald comment about New Year babies and Tom was gone.

We had other work to do but somehow it was always the same on a Sunday, the
staff just concentrated on the issues of the day and left the routine stuff
for Monday when we were fully staffed.  Jacques and I chatted for some time
over a coffee and I mentioned that Helen was away for a week with her
parents.  In his direct way, he said I was so relaxed that he thought that I
must have had some good sex last night.  Just to tease him, I said that
perhaps I had and changed the subject.

An hour or so later, he came into my office and suggested some lunch.  I was
in the middle of checking overtime returns and expenses sheets so I told him
to sit down while I finished.  I just sensed that he had some other problem
he wanted to raise. After some idle chat as I worked, he suddenly said that
he was not getting enough sex at home and asked what I had meant by my
earlier remark. I reminded him that I shared some of his interests and
started to tell him about Stewart. His ears pricked up, he began questioning
me and as I answered him truthfully the front of his trousers betrayed his
excitement.  I was determined to make him suffer and mentioned that I had
come four times in the last eighteen hours, all at the behest of men young
enough to be my sons.

Jacques turned the tables on me - how would I like to see what he could do
for me?  My dick was once more beginning to swell with the memories of last
night, so without answering him, I opened my trousers, whipped it out of my
briefs and began to slowly wank.  At that, he stood up, dropped his own
trousers to his ankles revealing an eight inch, neatly cut specimen of erect
manhood. No sign of underwear, I noticed - this seemed to be getting
commonplace, maybe I should try it?

He shuffled round to my side of the desk.  How could I resist a hard dick at
mouth level?  Jacques equally couldn't resist reaching down for mine but
just at that moment the emergency telephone rang and within seconds we were
our normal, professional selves, sorting out the problem.  Half an hour
later, it was fixed and Jacques reminded me that we had not had lunch.
Being Sunday, the canteen was not open so I suggested that he went out and
got us a pizza or something whilst  I held the fort.

* * * * *

Twenty minutes or so later, he was back with pizza, some of the spicy
Italian sausages our local pizza place specialised in and salad.  Between a
few routine telephone calls we ate our lunch and chatted, mostly gossip
about colleagues. Jacques mischievously wondered if Tom had had his end away
yet. I had nearly finished eating when I picked up the last but one
remaining sausage and suggestively sucked it right into my mouth.  Jacques
nearly choked on his pizza but then without a word, dropped his trousers,
picked up the last sausage, turned his back to me, bent over and slid it
right out of sight up his ass!

Then the emergency phone rang again, I spat my sausage out, Jacques pulled
his trousers up and sat down at his computer terminal to sort out the
problem.  Half an hour or so later, I noticed him sitting more and more
uneasily on his chair. I assumed he just wanted to pee, so went to take over
from him.  But it wasn't just a pee he wanted.  The peppery sausage, still
embedded in his ass was having a wonderful effect.  It was burning his gut,
he had a huge erection which he had slipped out of his fly and was indeed
bursting for a slash!  Several things had to be done.  First, I deep
throated his dick and took only seconds to relieve the pressure in his spunk
laden balls. Then he stood and ejected the sausage, with a huge explosion of
wind, fortunately nothing more!

By now the problem on the telephone was solved; little did the caller know
of the distractions in the office!  By now his dick was soft enough to pee
and he grabbed the nearest waste bin and let fly.  I had my hardening dick
out again and as soon as he had finished, Jacques was down on me and it
didn't take long before I was again shooting the spunk from my balls, this
time into his willing mouth.

By now, our shift was coming to an end. Our colleagues would be taking over
shortly so we got cleaned up, emptied the waste bin and adjusted our dress -
only just in time.  Henry was first.  I said I would wait for Barry and told
Jacques he could go; Henry looked quizzically at the two remaining sausages
amongst the discarded food packaging but said nothing.

Barry soon arrived and I dealt with a couple of queries on his time sheets
before packing my briefcase.  On the way out, I noticed Henry munching one
of the spare sausages and Barry the other . . . .


To be continued; if you liked my story so far, let me know, tell me what it
did for you - mailto:nakednick2@btinternet.com