Date: Fri, 1 Jan 2016 17:38:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hugh Banton <clover2209@yahoo.com>
Subject: Taking Care of Hubby

Below is my newest story for Nifty. Many thanks.

Taking Care of Hubby

By anonymous.a

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---

I work in an office all day, sometimes going in before sunupand leaving
after sundown. That's why I like to take walks in the morning – toremind
myself a world beyond my computer screen exists.

There's a wonderful park about a half mile from my house. Itoffers a
mile-long paved walking trail that takes you through groves of treesand
near small ponds where birds and turtles live.

Lots of people use the walking trail, although sadly, veryfew are hot young
guys. I managed to hook up with a couple, but that's foranother Nifty
installment.

Interestingly, the walk TO the park is a different story. Ipass by many
homes where I know good-looking fellas live, including the subjectof this
story, a young married man by the name of Matt.

Matt and his wife lived across the street from the park in amodest brick
house. I say "lived" because they've since moved. I would see himmornings
as he left for work, driving his gargantuan pickup truck. He alwaystook his
dogs to work with him – two yellow Labs – which makes me think he
ownshis own business. Where else could you take a dog to work?

How to describe Matt? He's a big lug of a guy, easily 6-foot2, certainly
over 200 pounds. He's neither chubby nor skinny; I'd describe himas fit,
although he doesn't have that muscle-bound look of a gym rat. His hairis
blonde and thinning. I expect by the time he's 30 he'll be shaving his
head.

His wife is older than he – I'd say at least five yearsolder. She's
probably close to 30 now and, last time I saw her, very pregnant.The minute
I noticed her baby bump I pictured Matt on top of her, pounding awayin a
frenzy of lust, arching his back and squinting and groaning as he
injectedher twat with a huge load of semen. The thought of it still gives
me athrobbing prick.

Matt was a friendly guy. He'd wave and say good morning.When he bought his
new truck I stopped and chatted a minute, which is how Ilearned his
name. But it was the day I helped him move a couch that I broke theice.

The idiot was trying to manhandle a couch through thedoorway by himself. It
obviously wasn't working, so I deviated from thesidewalk, grabbed the end
outside the door and lifted. He was surprised andgratified. We hauled it
out and into the bed of that mammoth pickup in shortorder.

That's how I learned his wife had gone to her sister's in Atlanta for a
couple ofweeks while Matt moved their stuff. They had just bought their
first new houseand were doing the heavy lifting themselves to save money
for the baby. Heplanned to spend the next few days getting them situated in
their new digsbefore she got back.

I guess I must've been staring because he shrugged and gaveme a puzzled
expression, and said, "What?"

I laughed and said, "Sorry. It's just that you're so damnedgood looking."

He smiled uncertainly and I quickly added, "I don't mean tofreak you
out. I'm attracted to guys, even the ones who are married andexpecting a
new addition to the family." And then I winked, just to add a dashof humor
that might leaven the deadly seriousness of my intentions.

"Nah, it's OK," he said. "It's actually flattering. I'venever been
threatened by the idea of guys liking guys."

I made ready to leave. Before I turned and walked away, Isaid, "If you need
some relief before your wife gets back, say the word. I'lltake care of it
for you." And with that, I left. I didn't even look back to seeif he were
angry, or embarrassed, or maybe interested? It didn't matter. He wasmoving
and I might never see him again. Fortune favors the bold, so I had
beenbold. Time would tell if my boldness paid dividends.

Over the next couple of days I didn't see him. But then oneSaturday, on a
rare afternoon walk, I spotted movement in their living room andnoticed
Matt standing there, hands on hips, big head nearly knocking against
theceiling fan as he gazed at something with a perplexed look. He noticed
me atthe same time and motioned with his head for me to come in.

I made my way up the driveway and walkway, and stepped intotheir living
room. He was standing in front of a wooden storage unit, probablyan Ikea
from the looks of it. He didn't seem happy.

"Do you know how to take this damn thing apart?" he saidirritably. "Vicki
put it together in about 5 minutes, but I'll be damned if Ican figure out
how it comes apart."

Ah. The American Psychiatric Association should formallyrecognize a
syndrome called "Ikea Frustration." It's a common afflictionbrought on by
seemingly impossible fastening techniques used by a certainSwedish
furniture manufacturer. Luckily for Matt I had already dealt with
thisparticular disorder and was able to show him in a minute or two the
secret todismantling the storage unit. When he was done we had a stack of
shelves andbraces.

"Come in here," he said, leading me into the kitchen. Heopened the fridge
and there was most of a 12-pack of Sam Adams Rebel IPA. Hetook out two
bottles and grabbed a magnetic church key from the refrigerator."You are
going to help me drink a couple of these."

Who was I to argue?

We stood there in the kitchen, the light turned off, himleaning against the
fridge and me against the counter, and talked. I learned hewas an architect
just starting out with his own company. He and his wife, theafore-mentioned
Vicki, had been married for two years. He was a local boy,having gone to
the same high school I did, though a decade afterwards. He hadjust
discovered "Breaking Bad" and jogged and was worried about making
themortgage payments on their new house. Oh, and he missed his wife. Missed
herterribly.

He fished two more beers out of the fridge. I began to feellightheaded. I
hadn't had a beer in awhile and these IPAs were kicking my ass.

Be bold, I told myself.

He was still talking. I put my beer down. I walked over tohim and he
continued talking, a note of alarm creeping into his voice. Isilenced him
by placing my lips over his.

He grunted and tried to talk through the kiss, but he didn'tpull away. I
reached down and gently cupped his package. Christ, I could feelthe damn
thing growing in my hand.

He stopped trying to talk. He stood there, uncertain. But Icould feel walls
falling down, dams breaking, inhibitions going up in a fire ofpassion. He
breathed deeply through his nose and began to return the kiss. Icould taste
the beer on his lips; then on his tongue as it found its way intomy mouth.

I fumbled at the snap of his cargo shorts and got the damnthings undone,
then stuck my hand under the waistband of his boxers and pulled downthe
front. I dropped to my knees, before he could say no, and swallowed
hishalf-hard cock.

The thing was massive. The head was an enormous mushroom capand as my
tongue explored the tip I could feel the piss hole dilating, as if hewould
cum right then and there. I ran my tongue under the tip and then down
thelength of this monster. At full mast it would probably top out at 8
inches.That was a conservative guess.

His smell was earthy and masculine, of hormonal ferment,mostly, the hot box
of his crotch throwing off an aroma of sexual power, thekind that belongs
uniquely to a man in the prime of his reproductivecapabilities. I finished
pulling down his shorts and then backed away from hiscock so I could take
in its beauty.

It was fully hard now and stood out from his body, throbbinggently to the
beat of his heart, begging me to take back into my mouth. I did,but only
momentarily. I licked down the shaft and began to lick below where hisballs
hung in a loose, wrinkled sack covered with fine hairs. I did not take
theminto my mouth but just licked, over, under, then allowed my tongue to
travel abit south but not quite to his ass crack.

I returned to his cock and put my mouth over it and sucked.I heard and felt
him gasp, and his hands traveled to the sides of my head as hebegan to rock
slowly into and out of my mouth. His cock head poked at the backof my mouth
and on the next in-stroke, I opened up my throat and took him allthe way
down to his balls.

"Oh my God," came the husky whisper as his hands traveled tothe back of my
head, and he pushed. My nose was buried in his pubic hair andhis balls were
draped over my chin as he pumped in and out, squishing my faceagainst his
sexhood. The smell he gave off ratcheted up a hundred fold into asticky fog
of lust that had my own cock growing painfully hard in my basketballshorts.

His knees came unpinned and he knelt, then lay on the floor.I lay down with
him. That massive cock never left my mouth.

Then, he did something amazing.

He moved his right leg under me – I had to raise up a littleto let it
pass – and placed the crook on my shoulder. Then, he did the samewith
the left. It created a scorching valley of flesh, with his dick and ballsat
the very center. Once everything was in place he began to ram his cock
downmy throat. I had no option but to accept it.

I have gone down on a lot of guys, gay and straight, but Icould not
remember such a wild, superheated blowjob as this. He had his handson the
back of my head and his legs on either side, and all I could feel washis
hardness ramming down my throat with the urgency of a man who was
desperatefor sex. He was using me to pleasure himself, to dump his cum, and
I wasletting him. It got me so worked up I took my right hand and slapped
it on thatyoung ass, rubbing the glutes up and down, feeling the bristly
hair and the layerof sweat on the glistening flesh.

I got my middle finger wet with his perspiration and allowedit to travel
into his crack, where it was hotter and wetter and stronglyaromatic. He
whimpered as it moved over his asshole and began to rub gentlyagainst the
wrinkled bud of his anus. I felt his hole dilating and the nexttime it
opened, I gently slipped inside.

"Oh my God" he groaned, and you could hear an almostnarcotic pleasure in
his voice as my finger sank to the knuckle. He beganlaying into my throat
with an urgency I did not know existed and I could feelhis asshole sucking
at my finger. If fingers could cum, mine would have filledhis colon with
white semen.

He suddenly stopped breathing and his grip on my head becamefierce, and
then he arched his back and I felt a mighty blast of cum shoot downmy
gullet. Then another, and another, and one more, as I sucked on the base
ofhis cock and probed at his sphincter with my finger. He loosened his grip
justa little and I pulled his cock out of my throat and sucked it into my
mouth,concentrating on the tip so I could lap up the aftershocks of his
ejaculation.I wanted to taste that shit. It was creamy and savory, a kind
of sauce you willnot find in any cookbook.

He was gasping now, the contented gasping of somebody whohad just scratched
a longstanding itch and was enjoying the pleasure of relief.I continued
working on his cock, and when he raised his leg, freeing me fromhis smelly
prison of flesh, I began to lick those balls that had produced thesemen
injected into my throat. He lay on his hip and spread his legs, giving
mefull access to his crotch. I licked everywhere – in the V between his
legs andhis body, his balls, his cock, and that faint treasure trail
leading up to hisnavel. He was sweaty and his flesh quivered when my tongue
touched it. And mytongue touched every part of it.

Finally we were done. He sat there, smiling down at me as Igave his cock a
final tickle with my tongue, just under the tip, where mostguys like it. He
nodded slightly and murmured, "You think you could, uh," and Ilooked
down. My finger was still deep in his asshole. I chuckled and slowlypulled
it out and the hole closed, giving me a final wink.

He got to his feet, and I followed. He looked at me a momentand said, "That
was freaking awesome – but I still love the ladies!"

"Of course you do," I giggled as I snatched a paper towelfrom the roll and
wiped off my finger. I didn't wash it. I wanted the smell ofhim to be there
when I jacked off later that day.

We both got dressed and finished our beers. I said goodbye.He didn't seem
to be embarrassed or self-conscious, but he did ask that if Iever bumped
into his wife, that I please keep what just happened to myself. Ipromised I
would, and I have kept that promise ... although I didn't say anythingabout
not writing about it on Nifty!

Two days later the place was empty, and Matt was gone.

But I have a feeling I'll see him again. He did move toanother house –
another house in the neighborhood. I just need to drive aroundand look for
that gargantuan pickup in the driveway.

Then change the path I take to the park each morning.

---

Again, be sure to contribute to Nifty. Follow this link:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Check out Part 1 of my erotic novel "One Day in the Life ofJosh" at
Amazon. It's only 99 cents, but I guarantee you'll get more than adollar's
worth of hot action. Follow this link:
http://www.amazon.com/ONE-DAY-LIFE-JOSH-PART-ebook/dp/B014ORH9YE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450023605&sr=8-1&keywords=one+day+in+the+life+of+josh

Let's hook up on twitter. I'm at @anonymous_sexie . Shhhh!Don't tell
anyone.

Email comments to clover2209@yahoo.com