Juan's Other Side

Published on Jan 20, 2010

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Juan's Other Side


Courtesy of www.99Gay-Men.US

Juan's Other Side
by Greg Scott

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All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc.  In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it.  Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.

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My ass felt as if it would never close, as I drove home hoping that my wife would be asleep by the time I got there.  She was accustomed to my monthly "night out with the boys," and she usually felt no need to wait up for her slightly inebriated husband.  I hoped desperately that would be the case tonight, so that I wouldn't have to explain the small cut on my forehead.

The cut was the result of the college boy driving me mercilessly into the brick wall with each thrust of his massive cock.  Before you start envying me too much for the experience, I should point out that the boy in question was probably the ugliest human being I had ever encountered, but he had a cock that, almost literally, wouldn't stop.  The boy looked like you probably imagine the literary character, Ichabod Crane.  The cock?  Well the cock just looked like heaven.

Monday, I was meeting one of my fuck buddies for a get together.  Unless I recovered quickly, I knew one option that wasn't going to be available for him.  My ass felt as if it would take a month to recover.

We had a little group of six married guys who would pair off on a weekly basis to enjoy a little one-on-one man to man action.  None of us were really gay; we just enjoyed a little variety in our lives.  This fun was harmless and didn't really jeopardize our marriages like affairs with women would have done.  It was just something of a safety valve for us.  I looked forward to Monday lunch each week.

This week I would be getting together with Juan.  Sometimes we met at a hotel, but Juan and I were going to use his house this time.  His wife was visiting her grandmother in Mexico and, of course, his teenage son would be in school at that hour.

Juan was my favorite member of the group.  He was dark, fairly muscular, strikingly handsome and an all-around nice guy.  Put all that together and it equals one especially hot man.  Since I thought he was sexy, just imagine what a gay guy would think of him.

As I had hoped, my wife was in deep sleep as I tiptoed into the bedroom and crawled into our bed.  She didn't even turn over or move at all as I joined her, sticking closely to my side of the king sized bed.

Sunday was completely uneventful.  We went to church mostly for the kids--you know to give them the right kind of training.  That was something that my wife said was important.  All day long, my wife didn't ask about the cut on my head, although I had a cover story ready in case she did.

I arrived at Juan's right at noon on Monday.  As I walked up the front sidewalk, a beautiful teenage boy came out carrying a backpack.

"Just go on in," he said to me, pointing to the open door.  "My dad said you were coming.  Good luck with the project."

"Thanks," I said, my heart beating rapidly.

I had definitely not expected the boy to be there.

"Hey, George," Juan greeted me.  "I presume you met my son on the way in."

"Yeah," I replied.  "That was a big surprise that I wasn't ready for."

"Don't worry about it.  I told him we were meeting on a common business project.  He had a dental appointment this morning, and he forgot to take his backpack so that he could go directly to school.  It's all okay."

You need to understand that this was about the longest preliminary conversation that we had ever shared, short as it was.  Don't get me wrong.  We talked a lot, but that was always after our passions had been exhausted. 

Consequently, Juan immediately led me through his stylishly decorated, sprawling ranch home until we arrived at what I assumed to be the guest room.  On our first few meetings we had made a ritual of undressing each other, but that formality stopped about a year ago.  Now, wanting to get down to serious business as quickly as possible, we each ripped off our clothes as quickly as possible.

Each time with Juan was like a new adventure.  Perhaps my fascination with him was amplified by the fact that in our group's rotation, we only got together once every five weeks.  Of course, the same was true with each of the other men, but they didn't have the same effect on me as Juan has.

I stood there admiring his perfect body as if it were the first time I had seen it.  His chest hair was more silky than furry.  His pubic hair, on the other hand, could have been a rain forest.  Nestled among the bush were two enormous testicles and a cock that was well above average in size and beyond comparison in beauty.  I remembered my surprise at our first meeting that it was cut.  All of the other Mexican-American men I had known were uncircumcised.

I continued visually exploring his body until he turned and dove into the bed, which reverberated with his impact in a distinct wave pattern.  It looked like I was going to have my first water bed encounter.

Juan asked about my experiences since we had last met.  I shared with him my unusual experience at that gay bar a couple nights ago.  He grew hard, I noticed, as I told him about the pummeling that I had received from that enormous cock.  He even seemed excited by my vivid description of the immense pain that I had felt.  I was seeing a different side of Juan, one I had never glimpsed before.

Juan was a notorious top.  Indeed, he was a total virgin as an anal bottom, and had always claimed to be dedicated to keeping it that way.  I was surprised, therefore, that he became so aroused by my story told from the perspective of a ravaged receiver.  I made a mental note to that effect.

He pulled me close in a strong embrace.  I found his lips easily, having practiced the maneuver so many times previously and even more often in my fantasies.  Juan was extremely hot, so he populated many of my jack off mental images.  I didn't use any of the others of our "fuck buddy group" in that way.

While Juan was a phenomenal kisser coupling his soft lips with his demanding tongue, it was his cock that I longed to taste.  I had been five long weeks of waiting for our turn in the group's rotation for Juan and me to be together again.

I pulled away from his strong grip and moved my hungry mouth toward his awaiting cock.  I did not take time to tease him with kisses or licks around his crown as I often did.  Instead I impaled his gorgeous member inside my ravenous mouth in one smooth movement, savoring the taste and texture as I rubbed his chest.

I had learned during our previous times that Juan had exceptionally sensitive nipples, so I moved my hands through his silky hair to settle my fingers on the ample brown circles.  I brushed them lightly at first.  Then I began to pinch them with increasing levels of pressure.  Juan liked them treated roughly.

He did not signal his pleasure orally as many men do.  Instead his feedback was always communicated through his strong hands.  In the beginning of my feasting on his cock, he ran his fingers lovingly through my hair.  Once I began to pinch his nipples, though, he grabbed the back of my head, forcing it down fully onto his dick that was now oozing precum.  He gripped the sides of my head as if I were in a vice, moving me down then up his rigid rod.

His control of me brought me to ever higher levels of passion, which I showed by applying even greater pressure to his nipples.  It became a cycle of each of us raising the bar on how rough we could become.  When I pinched with greater pressure, he responded by gripping tighter and moving my head at a greater pace.

Just as I was about to ask for mercy, I sensed his cock begin to throb.  He shot jet after jet into my willing mouth and throat, but he never reduced the pace of his movements of my head.  He seemed to have reached an even greater level of passion than on our previous escapades.

Inevitably, his climax subsided.  I released my grip on his nipples and returned to rubbing his muscular chest, sensing the hair tickle my fingers.  In response, he released his crushing grip around my head.  He grabbed my closest arm and pulled me up the bed toward him.

He locked me in a kiss, while his tongue probed deeply into my mouth reclaiming some of his nectar for his own taste buds.  I used my tongue to force even more of his cum into his mouth.

This was all part of our pattern.  Perhaps if we were able to get together more often, it might seem stale.  However since more than a month passed between each of our meetings, it seemed fresh each time.

What usually happened next was that Juan would lube his still rigid cock, he would roll me over face down and mount me.  When he would deposit a load deep in my guts that would trigger my own intense ejaculation.

I knew that I had not healed sufficiently from my college-boy escapade to accept him into me.  I felt that I should make that clear, although I didn't want to disappoint him.

"I don't think I can handle you inside me today," I said.  "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, baby.  We're going to take good care of you."

He had never previously used any term of endearment for me.  Somehow, calling me baby made me feel safer in his arms.

He turned me over as if he were preparing to penetrate me, but I trusted him not to, so I willingly complied.  He spread my cheeks and looked at what must have been my still red asshole.  He leaned forward and blew a breeze onto it.  It felt soothing, easing the two day old burning feeling.

I felt the bed move again, indicating that he was shifting positions.  I noticed that in a water bed, each movement produces an action and a reaction, sort of a visible and tactile echo.  I wondered what he was doing, although I remained confident that he would not enter me.

Then I felt something that I had never felt before as his tongue brushed ever so gently across my hole.  It was a slow lick upward.  Then the tongue stopped its journey and returned to its starting position.  Juan retraced his original path but with more pressure this time.

I sensed all of this on two levels.  On one level, I felt a gentle massage of my ass and realized how sensitive it could be in a way that I had not previously known.  

On the other level, I knew what a huge step this was for a man who had never demeaned himself with another man; a man who was more accustomed to being served than serving.  That realization stimulated an emotion very akin to love, a thought that I quickly put out of my mind, since such a feeling would be beyond the self-imposed limits that I had placed on these extra-marital explorations.

As Juan was making his fourth or fifth pass I let out a moan that surprised me.  To Juan it seemed to be a signal of my pleasure, which it was of course.

He responded by applying more pressure which I greeted with yet another spontaneous utterance.  He continued his ministrations with even greater enthusiasm.  It was clear that he enjoyed what he was doing.  I suspected, but didn't ask, that his pleasure in licking me in the most private of places took him by surprise.

He began to create his own little sounds.  It was as if he were enjoying some delicious morsel of food for the first time.  I, of course, was delighted to be part of his dining experience.

I achieved new levels of arousal as his technique seemed to grow more satisfying with each pass of his tongue.  As I was sure that nothing could be more remarkable than this, he plunged his tongue into my loosened entryway and proved me wrong.  I was as near ejaculating as I had ever been without actually spilling my juices.

If there is any pleasure that is greater than sexual climax, it is the moment immediately before it.  Juan maintained me in that moment for a long time.  I didn't want my cum to actually arrive to end it, and yet I wanted to cum more desperately than at any time in my life.

It was at that point where I couldn't really identify what it was I wanted that Juan suddenly changed techniques.  He removed his mouth and replaced it with one finger.  He searched and quickly located my prostate.  

I screamed in pleasure, fearing that the noise would make him think he had hurt me.  He interpreted my message correctly, continuing his massage of my pleasure button.

Using his other hand to lift my hip, he encouraged me to turn onto my side.  Meanwhile, he never lost contact.

Once I was settled on my side and the bed's waves had subsided, he wrapped his mouth around my eager cock.  That was the trigger, and there would be no stopping the explosion.

Juan had sucked me before, but he had never taken my cum in his mouth.  I briefly worried that he may be shocked or disgusted, but my fear was short lived.  My first volley only caused him to double his sucking action, and I could feel him swallow what I gave him.

I've probably claimed this before, and I hope that I can claim it again, but up to this time in my life I have never had a more satisfying and utterly intense sexual culmination.

When it was over I felt fully satisfied and inexplicably proud, although I really had little to do with it.  I lay in the bed, feeling occasional aftershocks.

Juan kissed me briefly, allowing me to taste myself inside his mouth.

We didn't speak as we dressed.  I wanted to ask if we could get together again sooner than five weeks, but I dared not.  I did not want a negative response to color my memory of this magnificent day.  We only said good bye when I left.

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