Date: Tue, 24 Aug 2004 12:11:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: Sebastian Wallace <sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Ring Finger

RING FINGER
by Sebastian Wallace

===

Author: sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk
Website: http://stories.remoworld.com

===

I sometimes wonder how I should feel, as an ostensibly straight guy, about
the fact that I enjoy taking a bit of a tumble in the sack with other men
from time to time.  I mean, one minute I can be fixating on a girl, finding
myself falling in love, showering her with affection and all the usual
standard-fare hetero kind of stuff; the next, when a favourable opportunity
with a reasonable looking guy presents itself, I'm right in there with him,
the two of us going at each other like a couple of horny rabbits.

I suppose I just wonder sometimes if it's normal, or whether maybe I should
be feeling guilty or anxious or something about it.

Take the night I proposed to Melissa.

We had an amazing evening: I surprised her by kneeling in front of her
offering her the ring; afterwards we had a quiet meal together, romantic
music in the background, atmospheric lighting around the room, all that
kind of stuff, and then, after chatting for a while, we went upstairs and -
well, you can guess the next part.  But it was a nice evening for both of
us; that's my point.

The next morning, while I was making us coffee as she slept, I got to
thinking that maybe I ought to have at least a few hang-ups about my
behaviour on the previous evening.  You see, even then, on that unique and
apparently perfect evening for us, I'd spent half an hour during the early
part of it banging the arse of some guy I'd never met before and wasn't
likely to again.

As the kettle boiled I wondered if I should be feeling guilt about it; or
perhaps, more specifically, if I ought to have spent the previous evening -
if I really was the decent, upstanding guy I like to think I am - gnawed
away by guilt at what I'd been doing just a couple of hours before I'd
proposed.  Whether maybe I shouldn't have proposed that night; whether I
should have left it until an evening which hadn't been sullied by one of my
casual encounters with other men.

I reminded myself what I'd done; what had happened.  It hadn't seemed such
a big deal at the time.

I'd rushed to the jewellers straight from surgery; almost knocked people
into the road as I dashed through the streets to get there before it
closed.

Fortunately I'd managed to reach the doorway just as the last of the shop
assistants was locking up and I'd managed to persuade him, with a few
pleading smiles and a generous dose of charm, to let me collect the ring
I'd ordered.

He let me in and relocked the door behind us.  "If my boss catches me on my
own in the shop with a customer, he'll kill me..."

I thanked him profusely and assured him it would take just a couple of
minutes to find my order.  "The ring's paid for and everything... I just
need to collect it..."

He nodded as he went to a chest of drawers behind the counter at the back
of shop and started searching through them for a package bearing my name.

He was in his early twenties; tall and attractive with a deep quiet voice.
I thought I detected traces of Asian ancestry in his face, but his accent
was born-and-bred Yorkshire.

His name badge read, "Will".  (And it turned out he would, too.)

I started picking up vibes - you know, like you do - when he made some joke
about his ring finger while he was finding my order.  I don't even remember
what the joke was exactly but it had struck me as a little odd and I'd
thought, "Aye aye..."

I'd replied, wanting to stoke the fire a little and find out if my
suspicions were true, "Not much happening on my ring finger at the
minute..."

And he'd looked over at me, his eyes a warm chestnut brown behind his
specs, and suggested, "Maybe later this evening there will be..."

"You think?"

He found the small package with my name on it and walked back over to me.

He smiled.  "Yeah... your girlfriend will have a ring to give you, won't
she?"

I shook my head.  "No... this is a surprise..."  I held up my hand,
deliberately wiggling my middle rather than my fourth finger.  "Looks like
this will have to stay ringless for now... unless I get any other
offers..."

He looked at me curiously, a quizzical smirk only barely perceptible.  It
seemed like it was his turn to think, "Aye aye..."

I smiled warmly and mock-innocently at him.

He said, tentatively, "D'you like having a ring on your finger... I mean, a
lot of guys don't..."

I continued smiling.  "Yeah... it's okay... from time to time..."

He tore part of the label from the package he was holding and put it in
front of me on the counter.  "Okay... I've just got to get you to sign to
say you received it, Dr Wallace..."

I signed the slip and said, "Please... call me Sebastian..."

I could tell that had made him smile even though I was looking down at the
paper.

He took the slip from me and grabbed a file from beneath the counter to
store it in.  He asked, trying to make it sound casual,
"So.. Sebastian... what sort of ring would you like for your finger... if
you had the choice?"

I chuckled at that.  I liked that one.

"I dunno... something with a warm feel, I guess... warm and inviting... and
tight... yeah... very tight... I wouldn't want it slipping off..."

Now he chuckled and our eyes locked.  We were both trying to figure out the
other's intentions.

He seemed as if he was going to say something else but then it was like he
censored himself and he made do with just smiling more broadly at me.

I thought, "He's not sure how far to go with this... he thinks I'm just
teasing him..."

Then he turned to pick up a carrier bag from behind him and I noticed that
his black work-issue trousers clung pretty tightly to his arse.  He had
very attractive, full, round cheeks.

He turned back to me and put the package into the bag.

I thought I'd throw him a line.  Let him know I wasn't just messing around.

I said, "Your boss likes his staff wearing tight trousers..."

He looked surprised at that at first but then shrugged.  I could see I'd
disappointed him: he thought I was changing the conversation to mere small
talk.  He just muttered, "Yeah... I dunno why... I guess they're cheap or
something..."

I smiled back, more warmly.  "Not that I'm complaining... they look pretty
good..."

Now he understood and grinned again.  "You think so?"

I nodded.  "Yeah... you've got the... ah... figure for it..."

He laughed.  "Yeah?"

I ventured at being a little bolder.  "Yeah... you've got the arse for
them..."

He laughed more loudly.  "D'you really think so?"

I laughed back.  "Yeah... they show it off very nicely..."

He didn't say anything else.  We just kept chuckling as he passed me the
bag and I made to leave.

But then he said, slowly and a little nervously, "You
know... Sebastian... if you want to try on a ring like the one you said
you'd like... you could come through to the back of the shop..."

I looked at him and he wasn't smiling.  He looked scared as hell.

I smiled broadly.  "Really?"

He looked really tense.  I guess he knew he was risking things turning
pretty nasty if he'd misread things between us, not to mention losing his
job if anyone caught us.

He nodded.  "Yeah..."

I kept smiling.  "A warm one... nice and tight...?"

He smiled a little.  "If you want it...?"

I laughed.  "'Course I do!"

We went to the backroom of the shop; a small, dingy kitchen with a kettle
and a few cups, littered with boxes and surplus stock from the shop.

He stood with his back to the table and looked like he thought I was going
to attack him.  Like he really thought that my motives might not be all
they seemed and that I might take a swing at him.

I moved towards him and pressed my lips to his.  We kissed gently and I
felt him gradually relax and then begin to enjoy it.  We put our arms
around one another and our tongues started pushing more deeply into each
other's mouths.

I grabbed his arse, kneading his firm round cheeks through the back of his
trousers.  I felt his cock - a hard bulge at the front of them - grinding
insistently against the front of mine.  My own cock strained for release,
forming a thick diagonal rod reaching up to my right pocket.

He pulled back and gasped, breathlessly, "I thought you liked girls... you
bought a ring for a girl..."

I shrugged.  "Yeah... but I like this too."

He looked a little confused but then smiled and shrugged back.  "Okay...!"

I took my hands away from his arse and undid the buckle of his belt, pulled
the zipper down over the mound behind his fly, and then yanked his trousers
down a couple of inches.

The material of his white briefs was stretched by his cock as it struggled
to be freed from their confines.  I rubbed the front of them gently a
couple of times, enjoying the feel of his soft yielding balls and stiff
throbbing cock inside them, before pulling the front of them down to expose
his glory.

He was looking at me with that startled, serious expression again.  Perhaps
he thought this might be my first time with another guy; was worried that
the sight of his cock would disgust me.

I smiled to reassure him and then stared at his cock, rubbing it gently in
my hand.  I was about six inches long, of average thickness, and a pale
brown colour.  His glans, when I exposed it as I slowly masturbated him,
was a deep purple and it oozed precum in a thick, sticky dribble.

I muttered, "Nice cock."

That made him smile.  "Yeah?"

He seemed really grateful that I liked his cock: I wondered if perhaps he'd
had a bad experience when he'd reached this point during a previous
encounter.

I knelt down and licked the tip of it, tasting his salty precum as I
swirled my tongue around its head.  He shivered, pulled away and urged me
to stand up again.

He smiled apologetically.  "Sorry - it's too sensitive - I really don't
like it."

I squeezed his shoulder and told him it was okay.

He tried to undo my belt but his hands were inexperienced and we both
tittered as I had to take over from him.  I pulled down my fly and released
my cock from my shorts.  It arched upwards, pulsating in excitement.

He laughed, "Wow!  Who's a big boy, then!"

I smiled.  I must say that it did look pretty impressive.  My cock's about
eight inches long and, while it's not the thickest I've ever seen, it was
quite substantially thicker than his.  Don't get me wrong - I really liked
the look of his erection - but the sight of mine towering over it really
turned me on.

I grabbed both our cocks and wanked them together.  It felt surprisingly
good and we both began to breathe more quickly as we enjoyed the sensation.
I could feel his cock twitching, oozing precum like tears, as I gripped it
in my fist alongside my larger version.  I glanced down and admired our
paired cock heads, the slits in them blinking like eyes as our foreskins
glided up and over them; his was smaller and purple, mine was more bulbous
and almost scarlet.

Then he fell to his knees and sucked at my cock enthusiastically, almost as
if it was a lollipop.  He grabbed my arse through my trousers and pushed my
hips towards him, feeding furiously on my cock with his lips and tongue.

I must say that the sensation wasn't exactly pleasant.  In fact, for the
first time in my life, I felt myself going a little flaccid during a blow
job.

He stood up and smile apologetically again.  "Sorry - I guess 'cause I
don't like them, I never really learned how to give them..."

I lied: "Hey - don't worry - they were never one of my favourite things..."

After a few seconds' silence, he asked, "So what do you like doing?"

I smiled.  "Well... right now... if you're up for it... I wanna try that
ring on... the one you promised me..."

He chuckled.  "Okay... I might be able to work out what size your finger is
from the feel of it..."

"Well.. actually... I was hoping you might have one that would fit my
cock..."

That threw him.  He looked down at my cock with an expression almost of
horror.  He stammered, "I dunno... I never... you know..."

I squeezed his shoulder again.  "Hey - we don't have to... if it's your
first time..."

"It's not that.  It's just... well... I never tried taking such a big cock
up my bum, that's all..."

I smiled.  "Well, we won't do that then... don't get so worried..."

He looked a little embarrassed and smiled wanly.  "Sorry... it's
just... well... I like it... but it might hurt... you know..."

"Well, if it does, I'll stop and we'll do something else..."

He thought about that for a few seconds and I asked, "So, d'you wanna try
it?"

He smiled a little and then nodded.  "Okay..."

I was surprised to notice that his shock at the prospect of being fucked by
me had made his cock go almost completely limp.  Another first.  This was
turning out to be quite an experience.

I motioned for him to turn around and knelt down behind him.

I pulled his trousers and briefs a little further down, revealing the pale
round cheeks of his arse.  His cleft was very slightly hairy and had a
deliciously musky scent: my cock twitched in eager anticipation.

I licked my middle finger and pressed it into his crack, searching for his
hole.  I found it - puckered and slightly moist - and gently slid my finger
into him.  His ring opened easily and offered little resistance: he might
have little experience of larger cocks but he was certainly no novice as
far as anal sex was concerned.

I eased my finger out and he bent forwards and gasped.  I did it again -
back in, and then back out - and he moaned.

I reached round to feel his cock and felt it - quite literally - hardening
from soft to full size in about five seconds.

I chuckled, "You like that..."

He gasped, "Yeah... I really do..."

I began fingering him slowly at first, but soon sped up and became more
forceful at his insistent grunts of encouragement.

Needing more lubrication, I pulled out and licked my middle finger again,
enjoying the raunchy taste of his backside along its length.

Now I inserted two fingers, and he gasped and panted in appreciation as I
roughly fingered him with them.  He bent further forwards and pushed his
arse back against me; craning it towards me like he was offering it to me.

Then, needing still more lube, I pulled out again and used my tongue to
wetten his anus and rectum.  That made him groan and I felt him shudder
rhythmically as he began masturbating quickly and aggressively.

I was wanking too: the taste of his insides were raw and exquisite.

I pulled my face out from his arse and started fucking him with three
fingers.

He opened his legs as wide as they would go and cried out, "That feels so
fucking good...!"

I responded, "I wanna fuck you, Will..."

He surprised me by calling out, "Yeah... come on... do it!"

It must have taken me ten seconds to pull a condom from my wallet, tear it
open and unfurl it down my cock, but it felt like about three weeks.  I was
convinced he was either going to climax while I was doing it, or was going
to change his mind.

But he did neither.  He kept wanking while I got myself ready, urging me to
fuck him, telling me how much he wanted it.

I got up and stood behind him, and pressed my cock against his now loose
and opened hole.  Again I thought he might back out, but instead he called
out, "Yeah!" and pushed his arse back against me, like he wanted to eat my
cock with his arsehole.

I pushed myself into him in one smooth movement and he took it.  I think he
farted a couple of times but he took it.

Then I grabbed his hips and humped him roughly and frantically while he
grunted in pleasure and masturbated himself so quickly that his elbow was a
blur.

We were sweating like pigs, grunting and panting: each man caught up
entirely in his own pleasure at that moment with little interest in the
other.  I was overwhelmed by the hot tight slippery feel of his arse around
my cock; by the occasional wafts my nose kept getting from it as I slammed
in and out of him; by the thought that, here we were with our trousers
barely down past our hips, sordidly buttfucking in the back of a shop.
Will was experiencing his own pleasures: perhaps of the sensation of my
cock sliding in and out of him; or of his hand on his own cock; or by the
fact that he was bending over the table he probably had tea at with his
boss and workmates every day, being soundly rogered up his rear by a
customer.

I guess now that I've reached this point, I can answer my own question; the
question I posed to myself while I was standing waiting for the kettle to
boil.  The one about whether I should feel guilty about having sex with
guys when I'm supposed to be straight and in a relationship with a woman.

The fact of the matter is that I like to get intimate with another guy
because with him I can do things I just wouldn't dream of doing with a
woman.  Melissa, like nearly all the girls in my life before her, likes sex
to be gentle and affectionate; loving and giving.  Most of the men I've had
sex with like it rough and fast; passionless and base.

So I suppose - just as I supposed that morning after I'd proposed to
Melissa - that there's really no reason to feel guilty.  It's simply a case
of not comparing like with like.  Sex between men is so different, for me
at least, from the sex I have with women, that I can enjoy both without
either undermining the other.

Melissa might not see it that way, of course, but it makes perfect sense to
me so why bother consulting her on it?

Will climaxed before me but was considerate enough, unlike a few of the
other guys I've had sex with, to let me continue fucking him until I'd also
completed.  He sprayed a fairly impressive wad of semen across the table,
making a few low guttural grunts, and eased off masturbating to milk the
last few dribbles out of himself.  Then, still recovering his breath, he
grabbed the edge of the table with both hands and stuck his arse out
towards me, urging me to use him to achieve my own orgasm.

I willingly complied, plunging my cock into his rectum in long, sweeping
thrusts, while I held his hips firmly in front of me.  Now I found it was
my turn to grunt as I watched my cock, thick and large, sliding rapidly in
and out of his eagerly splayed buttocks; the condom slick and wet with his
butt-sweat and my saliva.

I must have come within a minute of Will, but it felt like a lot longer.  I
got into the state I sometimes do when I'm screwing the arse off a guy,
where time seems to pass really slowly because I'm enjoying it so much.  I
could feel the tell-tale tingles of my impending orgasm but, for what
seemed like ages, they seemed distant and insubstantial.

However, nature had to take its inevitable course, and eventually the
intense pleasure I was getting from the frantic thrustings of my cock into
his tightly-clenched rear became too much to bear.  My semen rushed
explosively from my balls, slamming rhythmically against the tops of Will's
thighs, and filled the bulb of the condom at the tip of my engorged cock
almost to bursting point.  I grabbed him round his chest, shuddering and
gasping against him, as I gratefully spent myself deep inside him.

Afterward, when I'd flushed the condom down the staff toilet and we'd wiped
ourselves using the last few sheets of tissue from the roll, we hitched our
trousers back up in silence and returned to the shop zipping our flies.

He'd said something about hoping Melissa would like the ring and I'd said
something like "Cheers".

Then he let me out and we politely nodded our thanks and farewells.

I wondered, that next morning as I poured hot water from the kettle into
our coffee cups, whether I should suggest returning to the same jewellers
to choose each other's wedding rings.  It might be kind of nice to see him
again; to smirk at each other over Melissa's shoulder as she
oohed-and-aahed over the rings in the cabinets.  To see if we could flirt
with each other so discreetly that she wouldn't notice.

But in the end I opted not to.  I figured that a one-off screw with some
guy in the backroom of a shop is one thing; a repeat performance opens up a
whole can of worms that I'd rather leave untouched.  I mean, after I've had
sex with a guy, I like to move on from it pretty rapidly.  I don't want it
to become a regular thing; I don't want words like 'affection' and
(shudder) 'relationship' starting to come into play.

So we went to a different jewellers for the rings for the big day.

Even so, though - even after saying all that - I guess I still find myself
hoping Will wasn't disappointed when I didn't return.  I'd hate to have
upset him.

===

Copyright (c) Sebastian Wallace, 2004.  All rights reserved.

===