Perks of My Job

By Morris Henderson / BigMoH

Published on Mar 25, 2009

Gay

Controls

After college, I took a job with a software company that wrote special computer applications for hospitals. I was eager to get started and begin applying what I had been learning at school.

The Regional Manager in charge of our office was Larry, the son of the company's founder. He was bright, energetic, and fully qualified for his responsibilities. I admired him for many reasons: his poise, intelligence, and--not to leave anything out--his physical fitness. His wife, whom I had occasionally seen dropping him off and picking him up and once at an office party, was especially attractive. They were always very attentive to each other. I envied him for having such a beautiful woman to share his bed.

A call came in one Tuesday from a customer whose computer system had crashed and needed some technical assistance in a hurry. Larry called Michelle, Susan, and I into his office. "Look," he began, "I know it's asking a lot but I want you three to fly to Pittsburgh with me right away to get a customer's computer back on line. It's short notice, you'll just have time to pack a bag in case we have to stay overnight. Will you help me out on this?" We all agreed. "Fine," he said. "Meet me back here at 5:30 and I'll drive us all to the airport. And thanks."

By 5:15 we were waiting at the front door of the office. He pulled up in his minivan and we got in with our overnight bags. His wife was in the front seat. "Sharon is coming along to do some shopping," he explained.

In Pittsburgh, Sharon took a cab to town while we caught one for the customer site. We started working on the problem about 8:45 at night. By 12:30 we realized it would take at least another half day to write, load, and debug all the patches. We gave Larry the bad news when he came in after talking to the customer's executive staff. "Shit," he said and then immediately apologized to the girls. "OK, we'll get hotel rooms. It will be better to continue working on it when we've had some sleep." Larry got on the phone to his wife. He had previously asked her to reserve hotel rooms; even if we solved the computer problem that night, it would be too late to fly home. We couldn't hear what he was saying but he didn't look happy.

He came over to us with the report. "There's a damn convention in town and Sharon could get only two rooms. And she had to bribe the desk clerk for those. But we've got it figured out. Sharon and the two girls will stay in the room with two double beds." He looked at me. "You and I will bunk up in the room with the queen-sized bed. That separates the girls and guys and keeps us all honorable. Is that OK with all of you?" None of us objected because we were all exhausted and ready for a good night's sleep.

In the hotel room, Larry said, "Go ahead and shower if you want, I've got some calls to make. Nobody will be in the office but I can leave some voice-mail." This was typical of Larry -- always working. Although I hadn't given a thought to sharing the one double bed with him, the thought would not have stayed long because he was so obviously straight, so obviously devoted to his wife, and so obviously concentrating on work. I went in to shower, undressing in the bathroom. As I lathered my cock it started to get hard. Usually, I would enjoy a quick jerk but I knew Larry was waiting for the shower so I rinsed off, dried with an extra soft towel, and caught myself mentally apologizing to my cock for not giving it the treatment it needed.

When I came out, wearing only my briefs, Larry was still on the phone. As I walked to the double bed, I thought I saw him check out my crotch that was bulging a little more than normal because my cock was still somewhat hard. "Can't be!" I thought. "Larry's too involved in his phone call to be checking me out."

Larry hung up and started undressing. His white cotton briefs fit snugly around his waist and they tightly cradled what had to be an admirable cock and balls. "Don't even think about it," I told myself. Then he walked over to me. Standing at the side of the bed with that ominous bulge not far above my head, he thanked me for coming on the trip and working late. I couldn't help checking out his crotch more closely. I just hoped, as he walked to the bathroom, that he hadn't noticed my indiscrete glance.

I heard the shower running. I imagined what he must look like standing in there nude with the water flowing down his body with soap suds dripping from a dangling cock and balls. Or did he jerk off in the shower like I had wanted to? Probably not, I thought, he just crawls into bed with that delicious wife of his.

When my cock started to stir, I deliberately concentrated on the software problem. I didn't need any unsatisfied frustrations.

I was almost asleep when he came out of the shower, a fresh towel draped around his waist. He dropped the towel and threw it on a chair. He was completely naked. Since he was facing away from me, I seized the opportunity to check him out -- broad shoulders, narrow waist, and slightly hairy, muscular legs. But the best part was that I could see the cheeks of his ass with a tan line that showed he spent a lot of time in the sun wearing a bikini. His buns, like the rest of his body, were perfectly proportioned.

He turned around to pick up the bedside phone, giving me a full frontal view and his cock. My first impulse was to divert my gaze but his impressive cock and low-hanging balls captured my attention. Reluctantly and with all the will power I could muster, I rolled over to face away from him. However, the sight of his manhood persisted in my mind. He left a wake-up call for 6:30. I felt myself getting hard again at the image of his naked body. There was a little hair on his chest; it became somewhat thicker below his navel and exploded into a profuse thicket just above his cock. I continued to get more horny. How I would love to run my fingers through that dark, curly mesh! "Whoa," I thought to myself. "This is your boss. This is an important job. This guy is as straight as an arrow." In spite of my curiosity (let's call it lust), I forced myself to think about the computer problem as Larry turned out the light and quietly got into bed.

I laid awake for a short time. I couldn't help thinking of Larry's naked body next to me in bed. I was hard as a rock. But, of course, there was nothing I could do about it.

Finally, I dozed off. I don't know how long I had been asleep when a strange sensation bought me out of my deep sleep. As consciousness slowly returned, I became aware of what caused the sensation. I realized it was not a dream and not my imagination. A hand was exploring my cock through my briefs ... and it wasn't mine.

I was suddenly wide awake. Larry's hand was carefully feeling the extent of my endowment. Larry was my boss and I didn't know how to react. So I didn't. I just lay there pretending to be asleep.

Part of me wanted to reach down and grab his cock, to tell him that he was welcome to do what he wanted with my cock. The bigger part of me, however, didn't want to risk anything. So I just lay there as he continued feeling my cock that was now getting rapidly hard. My mind was racing, wondering what to do.

As his hand started to slide down under the waistband of my briefs, I reached a conclusion. I'm no a high school senior; I've been there, done that. With at least a few other guys. If this is what Larry wants, then let it happen. This is surely what I want so I'm going to help it happen.

His fingers were tracing circular paths through my pubic hair getting closer to my aching cock that needed desperately to be free from my constraining briefs. "Feels good," I said softly as I gave a very slight thrust with my hips. Larry's hand froze. He must have been wondering if I was awake or just talking in my sleep. "Don't stop," I encouraged. "It's just getting good."

Larry's hand still made no movement but he whispered, "You're awake?"

"Wide awake," I replied.

"I'm sorry!" His tone conveyed an unmistakable guilt that was surprising. He had always been so confident and composed. "I had no right to do that," he said.

"Don't be sorry," I replied.

"But I am!" he said. "I should have known better. But I couldn't help myself. I've admired you since you joined the company and being in bed with you was ... well ... more than I could handle. I'm sorry."

I told you; there's no reason to be sorry. I want the same thing you do. I want to give you whatever you want."

"Christ!" he said, "I was afraid you were going to kick me out of bed or something."

When my hand found his cock, it was rock solid and precum was already oozing out. As I smeared the precum around the head of his cock, I said, "Feels like you're a little ahead of me. You'll have to help me catch up." He threw the covers back, moved over to straddle my legs and pulled down my briefs. My cock sprang up to greet him.

"Hold on a sec," he said and walked over to turn on the bathroom light. It cast a dim glow throughout the room. "Just wanted to see what I'm working with," he said as he spread my legs and knelt between them. He bent over and started gently massaging inside my thighs, working his hands up toward my groin. My cock went through its final stages of engorgement. He reached my balls and cradled them in one hand while he ran his finger along the sack and through the fuzzy hair that grew there.

He was no longer my boss. He was a guy that enjoyed the same pleasures that I did.

My cock was throbbing. "Ah, there it is," he said as he started smearing my precum over the head of my dick. "Now we're even." The temptation to jerk was raging in me but I decided to let both of us enjoy it a little longer. He was clearly enjoying the view. Meanwhile, I was enjoying the pleasure. I had learned to get pleasure from the pain of wanting desperately to reach orgasm but holding back. It was a unique form of satisfaction to resist the urge to cum and certainly made the eventual orgasm much more intense.

He took my cock in his mouth and drenched it with warm saliva. I almost shot in his mouth. He sucked for a few minutes while I moaned my appreciation for his obviously practiced skill. Holding back was getting increasingly difficult and I knew that I wouldn't be able to control myself much longer.

Just then, he straightened up and moved up to straddle my chest. I didn't know what to expect. I was so close and he left me stranded. He lowered his ass over my cock and guided it into his asshole. My cock, well lubricated with his saliva, started to slide into his hole. This was a new experience. Jerking and sucking was familiar. I had seen photos of ass fucking on the internet. But I had never had my cock in anyone's ass before. It was a strangely satisfying feeling when his sphincter resisted the entry of my cock. It squeezed the head of my dick and then released. I felt my cock slide farther and farther up his ass inch by inch. It felt warm and wonderful. My cock was being squeezed from every side with just enough pressure to let me feel every inch of it. I was still forcing myself to hold back although a moment's inattention would release a torrent of creamy cum into his bowels.

"You don't have to just lie there, you know," he encouraged. "Put your hands to use." I spit a wad of saliva on my hand and started sliding up and down the shaft of his cock. More precum oozed out.

A healthy patch of pubic hair is a turn-on for me and his was as profuse as any I had seen. I guess, at least for me, it carried a sense of sexual maturity, virility, and therefore sexual capability. I had sucked a couple of guys who shaved and it reminded me of my pre-pubescence, a time of innocence, the excitement of exploring the unknown, and discovering the mysterious. I much preferred a thick bush, the darker the better, and Larry's was both.

Larry was now slowly moving up and down, his athletic body effortlessly and rhythmically stroking my cock with his ass. I could hold it no longer and blasted a full load of cum into him. He must have felt my cock throb and known from my very audible moan that I had given him the best I had. He stopped moving and let me enjoy the ecstasy.

When I resumed stroking his cock, he immediately shot his load in a great gush over my chest and stomach. I looked up. His head was held slightly back, his eyes were closed, and he was moaning slightly. Then he raised himself and my cock slid slowly out of his ass. He disappeared into the bathroom only to return immediately with a towel. As he wiped up his cum from my chest, our cocks were going limp.

"That was great," he said. "Thanks. But just one more favor, if you don't mind."

"Anything," I answered.

"This was great," he went on. "Oh I said that, didn't I? But tomorrow is another day. On the job and in the office, it has to be the same as it's always been. Is that OK with you?"

"Of course," I assured him.

"Let me explain," he continued.

"No need to," I interrupted.

"No," he said, "you have a right to know. I'm quite gay, you see, but that could damage my career and would absolutely destroy my father. I have to stay carefully in the closet."

I was stunned and blurted out, "But what about your wife?"

He paused before answering. "A marriage of convenience. We dated throughout high school and college. It was the socially acceptable thing to do. It didn't take long, however, for us both to realize that we were different. She likes girls and I like guys. We came to terms with that early on. We've screwed. We even have had orgasms together. But we simply decided that we had different preferences. We both realized that for social acceptance ... for our family's happiness ... we would continue the charade. It's worked out quite well, really. We're great friends. In fact, you could say that we love each other in a way. But we respect each other's private time. We keep everything very discreet, of course. We put on a display for public consumption."

I was still trying to absorb the shock of his disclosure. If I were thinking straighter, I would not have asked, "You mean your wife in the other room is doing what we are?"

"Heaven's no," he gasped. "For one thing, she has much more control than I do. I knew the risk when I started feeling you up but couldn't stop myself. You have a great physique and you seemed to have a wonderful cock. I just had to find out what it was like. Besides, Sharon is in with two girls. That multiplies the risk. Finally, I really don't think they are her type."

"OK," I said. "Tomorrow is business as usual.

"But," Larry added, "If we ever have a chance like this again while we're off duty, let's go for it."

"I'd like that very much," I said hopefully.

Early the next morning, the phone rang. Larry answered. "Wake up call," he announced. "Business as usual."

As time went by, I often thought of the night in the hotel with Larry but if he thought of it at all, he gave no indication. I concluded that, for him, it was a fling and he was going to rely on his circle of friends, whoever they might be, rather than get together with me again. In the office, as he had requested, it was business as usual.


A week or so later, Larry asked if I would join him in a meeting with a supplier to discuss a proposal to a large client. He explained that he might need my help with some of the technical details of the project I was working on. "Of course," I agreed.

"Good," he said. "At 4:00 tomorrow. At his place. I'll drive." As he walked away, he turned to add, "Oh, it might run a little late. Do you have plans for the early evening?"

"None," I answered."

"Great, ... and thanks ," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared.

We drove across town and pulled into an exclusive residential area. Odd place for an office, I thought. When Larry pulled into a driveway of a very large house, I had to ask, "The meeting is here?"

"Yeah," Larry grunted, "Mitch's office is downtown but he likes to get away from interruptions for meetings like this."

A maid answered the door and led us into an opulent den off the main entry hall. I couldn't decide whether to admire the home and its furnishing or the maid and her furnishings. I did a little of both. Mitch came in and greeted Larry warmly. He was slightly older than Larry, early thirties I guessed, dressed in casual chinos and a loose tee shirt, and (as best I could tell) athletically built. I was introduced and we immediately sat down at a large table. Larry and Mitch began discussing the proposal. It was clear that they had already had a lot of discussion about it earlier. From time to time one of them would ask me for information and twice asked me for an opinion on their decisions. I couldn't follow everything they said but tried to be competent in my limited area of knowledge. As I listened and watched, I decided that Mitch was every bit as good a businessman as Larry: energetic, analytical, and focused intensely on the project under discussion.

It was almost 6:00 when Larry and Mitch decided that the proposal was sound and ready to go into final draft. Mitch looked at Larry, "Good work. Time for a quick swim before dinner?"

"I'm game." Larry looked at me and asked, "Are you up for a dip in Mitch's pool?" "Sounds good," I replied, "but I don't have any swim trunks." Ordinarily, I'd jump in the water in my underwear or nothing at all but this had to be business as usual.

"No problem," Mitch shot back, "I've got some spares. I fetch you a pair."

Mitch left to get the swim trunks and Larry proceeded to give me some instructions on overseeing the preparation of the proposal. Mitch returned with two swim suits. He tossed one to me ("I'm pretty sure this will fit you".) and the other to Larry. ("I know this will fit you. You used it before.") Turning to me, he said, "You can change in the bathroom at the top of the stairs." Turning to Larry, "You know where the bathroom is down here. I've already changed and just have to slip my pants off." We separated to go change.

I went up the stairs into the luxurious bathroom with its shower, hot tub, and view overlooking the big outdoor pool. It was then I noticed that the swim suit was a very skimpy speedo. Putting it on, I found that it hardly covered my ass and that fitting my cock and balls in comfortably was a challenge. But it had plenty of elasticity so I grabbed a towel and went downstairs. Larry and Mitch were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I felt a little self-conscious until I noticed they both were wearing skimpy speedos as well.

"Last one in is a rotten egg," Mitch called over his shoulder as he bolted for the pool behind the house. Larry and I took off after him. Mitch dove into the pool, Larry followed, and I was right behind. Mitch and Larry lapped the pool six times but I tired after four and sat on the edge of the pool to watch them. I was admiring the rhythm of their muscular bodies moving effortlessly through the water. Strong arms, solid backs, strong legs, and (I couldn't help myself) firm asses that rose from the water with each stroke. Their speedos contrasted with their tan skin but didn't conceal much of what was underneath.

I had finally caught my breath when Mitch and Larry finished their laps and sat on the edge of the pool next to me. The bulge in Larry's crotch was as large as I expected. Mitch's was every bit as large and intriguing. I diverted my gaze just in time as Mitch turned to me and asked, "How about some drinks. What'll you have?"

"Martini. On the rocks," Larry replied.

"Gin and tonic would be fine," I almost stammered. Mitch walked over to a poolside table, touched and button on an intercom, and placed our orders. This is really the life of Riley, I thought to myself.

We all did more laps before the maid approached, carrying a silver tray with three drinks and some snacks. As she returned to the house, we sat at a table and sipped our drinks. Larry and Mitch were talking animatedly about their favorite vacation spots while I could add little to the conversation. Drinks finished, Mitch asked, "Few more laps, guys?" He got up, paused, and added, "but to hell with modesty this time." He pulled down his speedo, showing us his bare ass, and dived in the pool. Without a word, Larry did the same. They began circling the pool as before except this time it was their bare asses bobbing up out of the water as they swam.

I faced another dilemma. I could watch discretely and hope to keep my cock under control or I could join them and risk embarrassing myself. Larry, who had been most insistent about business as usual would surely be displeased with my arousal. Adding to my reluctance to take off my swim suit was that the house had lots of windows and the maid was probably still there.

What the hell, I decided. After all, it was Larry that encouraged me to join in. And if my cock doesn't behave, I'll figure out a way to explain it away. I took off my tight speedo and dove in. The freedom of skinny dipping was wonderful.

Again, I was the first to tire and stood chest deep in water at the edge of the pool. I stayed in the water because I didn't know what to do if I got out. Larry and Mitch came around again but stopped where I was. Both hopped up and sat on the edge of the pool giving me (deliberately?) an excellent view of their crotches. My groin started stirring again as I admired the bounty between their legs. I briefly noted Larry's dark hair and the rest of his plumbing that had given me such a wonderfully new experience in the hotel room. Larry's cock was dangling down, mostly due to its own weight. His balls were tightly drawn up, no doubt due to the slight chill in the water. Mitch must have noticed my gaze but said nothing. I concentrated on everything that I could to avoid getting more aroused. My cock was already beginning to swell and, without distraction, would soon be stiff.

Mitch and Larry continued to chat. Mitch swung his left leg up onto the tiled edge of the pool, turning slightly to face Larry to his left. His right leg dangled in the water so that his legs were spread wide apart and allowed a fuller view of his cock. What the hell is going on? I wondered. Are they deliberately trying to turn me on or is it just innocent and unself-conscious behavior? Whichever it was, I felt my cock continue to swell and by now it was probably poking straight out.

I had just decided to swim a lap or two in hopes that the exertion would calm the fire building in my impatient cock. But I heard Mitch say, "Larry, we've been completely ignoring your young friend. That's pretty rude, don't you think?"

"Yes," Larry responded, "We'd better right the wrong."

They both jumped into the water on either side of me. I can't begin to explain my astonishment when I felt Larry's hand on one cheek of my ass, Mitch's on the other. Both of them were gently squeezing. Mitch's free hand found my crotch and he began fondling my semi-hard cock.

Instinctively, I tried to withdraw but Larry held me firmly in place and said, "Mitch is a friend of mine and I've told him you might care to join us for a little fun."

I was stunned. I knew Larry's preferences and life style but Mitch's behavior had never given the slightest hint of his tastes. Hadn't he made some suggestive remarks about his lovely maid? As I stood there, Mitch's hand continued its exploration and, to tell the truth, my cock was responding gratefully.

"My," Mitch commented, "It would seem you're getting ready for some real action."

Business must be business, I thought to myself, but I guess we're off the clock now. We're just three guys who are ready to relax and enjoy.

"What do you say," Larry asked, "want to join us?" I gave my answer by reaching down and fondling his cock. He smiled, squeezed my ass a little harder, and ran a finger down the crack of my ass until he could tickle my balls from behind while his other hand continued to feel up and down my now fully erect cock.

Mitch's foot pushed both my feet forward and I lost my balance. Mitch grabbed me and easily lifted me to the surface of the water so that my hard cock stuck up out of the water. As he carried me toward the ladder, inspecting my crotch, he said to Larry, "Nice mast on this boat, don't you think?" Larry just laughed.

We climbed out of the pool and walked across the tile toward the sun-warmed grass. Mitch motioned for me to lie down. Mitch seized the opportunity to inspect my cock more thoroughly. "Nice," he commented and then added a detailed analysis. "Firm. Long but not freakish. Good angle; almost totally erect. Head in excellent proportion to the shaft. Abundant pubic hair. Even though it's wet and clinging now, it probably curls into a tight mesh." I wasn't sure I liked his cold analysis--it sounded like a coroner describing a corpse--but I decided to take it as a compliment.

Mitch was lying on one side of me with his face inches from my aching cock. His fingers and eyes were thoroughly exploring the entire area around my pelvis. He spread my legs to better access to my balls that were getting ready to send a stream of cum up my cock when it was time. His finger was stimulating my asshole.

"Look at me being rude again," he said and moved away. He now was on his knees, straddling my face. He bent down again and almost buried his face in my crotch. "Now you can check me out, too." he said. His cock, now swollen, was pointing at my Adam's apple just inches above my face. His balls were relaxing from the cool water and were starting to sag down toward me. Above his balls, I saw a tight asshole surrounded by fine hair. All inhibitions gone, I raised my head and started flicking his balls with my tongue. His cock continued swelling. I reached up with both hands, grabbing the top of his ass and raised my head slightly to reach his inviting cock. He responded by lowering himself slightly. I could now put the head of his cock in my mouth and regain the use of my hands. One hand went to his balls and played with them. I licked a finger of the other hand and worked it slowly into his ass hole.

Mitch, by this time, had my cock in his mouth and was gradually taking it all in. Before long, I felt the entire length of my cock in his mouth and throat. I had never been able to do that without gagging but he seemed to have no trouble at all. With his saliva beginning to drool out and down my balls, he started moving his mouth up and down while using his tongue to add a side to side sensation on the shaft. Every few strokes he would withdraw and hold just the head of my cock while circling it with his tongue. At this point, there were only two things that existed in the world: my cock being expertly worked by his mouth and his wonderful cock in my mouth.

I was first to let go. I felt the cum stream up my cock amid an electrifying shock that started in my groin and radiated through my body. My cock was fully inserted into his mouth and the blasts of cum must have exploded deep in his throat. He didn't miss a beat, just slowed down to a stop but continued to hold the entire length of my cock in his warm moist mouth.

I started to feel badly because I could get only the head of his cock into my mouth and it didn't seem to be enough to bring him to climax. I moved a hand down to the base of his shaft and began stroking as I continued to tantalize the sensitive head of his cock with my mouth and tongue. It worked. He tensed, relaxed, and dropped a load of cum that seemed to fill my mouth completely. I didn't swallow right away but took a little more of his cock into my mouth and slowly swished his warm cum around his cock head. He moaned. I took that to be a compliment.

Mitch rolled over on his back saying, "Wonderful, young man. You've got the equipment and know how to use it. Not a master craftsman yet, but an admirable journeyman." More of his cold analysis! I chose to accept it as another compliment.

Larry, whom I had completely forgotten about, was sitting to the side of us cross legged, watching, and stroking his cock. I noticed that precum was oozing out the top.

Larry looked at the reclining Mitch. "Did that wear you out old man? Or have you still got something left for me?"

Mitch smiled up at him and said, "I can take you on any day." Larry moved in between Mitch's legs. He put Mitch's legs over his shoulders and guided his cock into Mitch's ass. He grasped Mitch's waist with both hands. He was anything but gentle pulling Mitch toward him as he thrust his hips forward. He banged away producing an awesome thud with every stroke. I was glad he had been more considerate of me.

Larry suddenly screamed loudly, "EEE-AHH," and stopped still. A blissful expression persisted on both their faces for several moments. Then Mitch's legs dropped down and locked around Larry's waist. They reached for each other, locked arms, and Larry (with some difficulty) lifted Mitch and stood up. His cock was still deeply buried in Mitch's asshole, Mitch's legs wrapped tightly around Larry's waist.

Larry walked to the side of the pool, carrying Mitch, and jumped in. They submerged and didn't come up for such a long time, I was sure they had both drowned in the water. As I hurried to get up and rush to the pool, both heads popped out of the water gasping for air. When they had filled their lungs, they laughed and feverishly splashed water on each other and on me.

Mitch got out, ordered another round of drinks on the intercom and settled into a deck chair. His cock, like Larry's and my own, had softened and hung loosely down. Then it hit me. Mitch had ordered drinks. The maid would soon appear. "Should we cover up before your maid comes," I asked innocently.

"Hell, no," Mitch laughed. She was probably watching from the kitchen window anyway. One of the perks of her job, you might say." Then, suddenly, "You like girls, young man? Larry here doesn't. But if you do, I can ask Sheila to join us if you're ever out here again. She can give head like nobody I've met and does all kinds of more traditional things."

I was speechless but forced out, "That sounds wonderful."

"Tell you what," Mitch went on. He reached for the intercom button and said, "Sheila, if you don't mind, put on your suit--maybe that white one--when you bring the drinks. We have a young man here who would appreciate your talents. Just a swim this time. And could you bring some more of those cheesy snacks on the tray? Thanks, luv."

Sheila appeared moments later with a tray of drinks and snack. She had on a white bikini that revealed almost everything that her uniform had been hiding. As she set down the tray, she very obviously and without any attempt to conceal it, examined my crotch. I thought I saw her nod in approval.

She then sauntered over to the edge of the pool, swaying her hips in a way to be sure I could get a clear view. I just stared. In the water, she did a few aquatics that were designed, I'm sure to stimulate me. From under the water, she would float to the surface so that her ample tits came out first. Briefly, that's all you could see. Then she swept her arms to lower her head and raise her hips. Now you could see only her hips out of the water with that tiny bikini covering very little of her crotch. With these and a few other suggestive maneuvers in the water, I felt a surging in my cock. At this rate, I would have another erection before long. What the hell, I thought, there's nothing to be shy or reserved about any more. Surfacing the next time, the top of her bikini had been removed. Her richly dark nipples crowned two firm breasts. The next surfacing revealed that she had removed the bottom of her bikini and she paused slightly longer than usual to display a thick mat of hair and two puffy lips that guarded the entrance to her pussy. My cock was now standing.

Sheila swam to the edge and looked at Mitch and asked, "Will that be all, sir?" Mitch, having noticed my erection, answered, "For now, Sheila. Excellent show. One of your best. And you can see by checking out our young friend here that he appreciated it too." Sheila checked out my fully erect cock, smiled, and licked her lips suggestively. She dived to the bottom of the pool and came up with the two small pieces of cloth that was called a swim suit. She got out of the pool, flashed her crotch at me once more and walked into the house swinging that beautiful little ass.

"Getting late," Mitch said (It was only 9:30) and got up. We followed, walking to the house bare ass naked. He dropped his speedo into a basket on the patio and suggested that we all get dressed. "That is," he said noticing my still hard cock, "If you can fit into your trousers in that condition." To my surprise, I blushed.

As we left, Larry asked, "Have time for a bite of dinner? My treat." "Sounds good," I replied, not knowing whether that meant food and more fun ... or just food.

Throughout salad and soup, Larry was reviewing the stupid proposal and giving instructions on how to supervise its final preparation. None of my comments about Mitch, his house, his pool, his maid, our activities had even been acknowledged so I tried to pay attention to what he was telling me. It was difficult. I couldn't get the vision of Sheila out of my mind.

"You seem a little distracted," Larry finally said. "Concentration wavering?"

He was right, of course. Much of my mind was on my cock in Mitch's mouth and his in mine. And there was Sheila. I hadn't been with a girl for months and was primed to resume that form of pleasure. Larry went on, "I really need your help on this project, let's make sure we get it right." It was if I was with a completely different person. In a way, I was. Larry had two personalities that, somehow, he managed to keep quite distinct from each other. Still, I wondered what lay in store after dinner.

He dropped me off at my apartment house about 10:30 saying, "I know it's late but I hope you'll be in the office bright and early. We need to get to work on this proposal."

"I'll be there," I promised with some disappointment about not having another episode with Larry.

Three weeks went by. It was business as usual. I had a few dates with girls I met (only one of which ended up in bed). I jerked myself on a regular basis. But I longed for sharing pleasure with other guys. If not Larry, if not Mitch, then who?

Larry called me into his office. He closed the door. "Got an unusual favor to ask," he began hesitatingly. "My nephew is coming into the city this weekend. He's 18. A farm boy. Part of his graduation present, I gather. My older brother has a ranch in Montana. I've got commitments this weekend that I can't get out of. Could you show him around? I'll pick up the tab for whatever you want to do."

I agreed since I had no urgent plans.

"Thanks," he said. "But before you agree, there's something else you should know about my nephew. My brother suspects he might like guys a little too much and wants someone to chaperon him. To prevent him from seeing the wickedness in the big city, if you get my point."

I didn't. Was Larry putting a young man in my charge and warning me to keep hands off? I had to get clarification. "Are you saying no fun and games with him? In bed, I mean?"

"No," Larry explained. "You and I both know that pleasure can be found in many places but some of them are dangerous. I trust you. And I don't trust the trash that he may run into in some sleazy gay bar somewhere." I was beginning to understand. Larry went on. "Mind you, I'm not saying he's your toy to play with. So don't start anything. Unless you're sure he wants it. If it starts, I guess you can enjoy yourselves. But try to steer him away from the real queers that cruise the gay bar scene."

His use of the term, queers, was surprising, coming from a closeted gay. Somehow, I knew he meant the unprincipled crowd that just want a quick trick in an alley or restroom with a stranger and then it's on to someone else. It was like a very good friend of mine, black, who distinguished between African Americans and niggers. Or another friend, a classmate in college who was from the hills of Kentucky. He had kinfolk that were "solid Appalachian stock" but others were hillbillies.

Larry and Sharon met Jerry at the airport Friday night, fed him dinner at their house and dropped him off at my apartment about 9:30. He was a tall blond who had obviously developed a terrific physique baling hay (or whatever farm boys do on the farm). Conversation revealed that he was well schooled (close to straight A in high school) but ignorant about urban life.

I suggested we have a couple of beers in the corner tavern before getting some sleep. My strategy for handling the situation was simple. I would assess his interests (sightseeing for one, sexual preferences for another) before making any decisions about where to go or what to do. For example, in the tavern, I would occasionally admire one of the young female customers. He agreed, weakly. Inconclusive, I thought. He might be shy about sex in general or less interested in girls than guys. I made a comment about the variety of drinking spots in a city: night clubs, taverns, bars, even bars that catered to special clientele like bikers or gays. I watched his reaction carefully. No unusual response to the mention of gays. I asked about his friends back in Montana. His response, long and detailed as it was, gave no clue about what he did to satisfy his hormones. My indirect inquiries were one dead end after another.

We returned to my apartment late. He spread his sleeping bag on the floor. I offered to share the hide-a-bed in my one room efficiency but he declined. I concluded that his father, who was afraid he liked guys too much, was wrong. Or was Jerry just being especially reserved? The mystery remained. I decided that, unless my final test of his interests got a reaction, nothing was going to happen.

I engaged him in conversation and started to undress. I removed my shoes and socks and stood to remove my shirt. As we talked, I caught him dropping his eyes to my chest, maybe even to my navel. I dropped my trousers, stood there in my briefs, and continued to talk. No doubt about it, he cast quick but decisive glances at my crotch. I scratched my balls as I asked, "Sure you don't want to share the bed? The floor can be awfully uncomfortable." He hesitated. I decided to encourage him just once more to see if he was really interested. "I've had lots of guys stay over with me and there's really enough room in the hide-a-bed for two of us." He seemed more interested but still hesitated and just sat there in my desk chair.

"You've had other guys?" he asked, "Stay here with you I mean."

"Sure," I went on. But I scratched my balls again, slowly and suggestively--all innocent enough but designed to get him interested if that's where his interests indeed were. "Sometimes we crawl in bed and watch TV for a while. Or just talk."

His interest was showing. "What do you ... I mean ... is there any ... I mean, that's all?" He was clearly testing me now. "Whatever comes up," I said suggestively. "Depends on our mood."

The line was cast. At this point, he would take the bait or reject it. And I would behave accordingly. But he continued to skirt the issue. I decided on one final ploy. If it brought no response, I would cease to pursue the issue. I took off my briefs and threw them on the floor by the bed while watching carefully for his reaction. It was what I expected. His eyes widened and focused on my crotch for much longer than would be considered proper for straight men.

"You sleep in the nude?" he asked.

"All the time," I lied.

"When your friends stay over?"

"Of course," I answered rubbing my stomach with my fingers

"And your friends are nude?" he asked.

This could go on all night, I thought. He's already confirmed his father's suspicions. He was--finally--showing definite signs of interest in sexual pleasure, although he was painfully shy about getting to the point. I concluded that we could chatter on and on or get into things.

"Look," I said. "I'm bi. Bisexual. That means I like girls and I like guys. I masturbate. A lot. I'm sure you do too. When girls stay with me overnight, we engage in sexual activities. And I also enjoy sex with the guys who visit me."

He was listening attentively and without any sign of disapproval. "Let me lay it out," I continued. "I'm offering you three choices. One, you can sleep on the hard floor. Two, you can get in my bed with me and we'll leave each other completely alone. Or three, you can get in bed with me and experience, maybe for the first time, what it's like to share sexual activities with another guy. Whatever you say goes."

He thought for a long time, perhaps taken back by my direct approach. He was also pondering his choices. "But my uncle," he said, haltingly. I was tempted to tell him that Larry, of all people, would understand. But I thought better of the idea. Instead, I replied, "Larry will never know. Neither will your dad. Or anyone else. Unless you tell them."

He thought some more. "I think," he began hesitantly, "I think I'd like to try the third choice." He paused just a moment. "That is, if you don't mind."

"On the contrary. I'm more than happy to share a bed with you. And anything else you'd like to try."

His grin was radiant. He undressed, except for his briefs, and walked toward the hide-a-bed.

"You might be more comfortable nude," I prodded. He stared at my cock but not long enough to be too obvious. He took off his briefs and let his cock hang. I stared and didn't worry about being obvious.

"You've got a fine tool, farm boy. Let's see how you can plow." I laid down on top of the covers and motioned him to join me.

I laid my arm across his chest. "First time with a guy?" I asked.

"Yeah." he answered nervously.

"We'll go slow. Let me know if you want to stop. For that matter, tell me if you want any information or want to try something." I began massaging his muscular chest. He was tense but seemed to begin relaxing as he lay there quietly. I moved my hand down to his stomach, gently rubbing. My hand moved below his navel and I began to run my fingers through the thick blond pubic hair that was like a curly, soft pillow. Then, still slowly, I moved lower to fondle his cock. He gasped.

"Did I startle you? Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No," he moaned. "Don't stop. It's just that nobody has ever touched me there. It feels awesome."

His cock was beefy, still mostly soft but beginning to swell. "Join in if you want to," I said. "Or just lay there and enjoy if that's what you want." He was on his back, I was on my side. His hand slide across and started to feel my cock that was a good deal harder than his.

I was fully erect for several minutes before his cock was as hard as mine. "What do guys do together?" he asked timidly. "I've seen lots of animals mate so I've figured out what men and women do. But men together always made me curious."

Wow, I thought, this is one innocent lad. I decided to start with the basics. "Do you masturbate?" I asked. "Yeah," he admitted, a touch of shyness in his voice. "In bed, in the bathroom, when I'm sure I'm alone. A few times I've been out on the range alone. I stripped naked and did it."

"You ever jerk off with another guy?" I asked. "Never," he answered (at least he knew the term). "Other guys will talk about jerking themselves and I've always wondered how they did it. But I've never actually seen anybody do it. I've imagined watching some of my friends doing it."

"Well, one thing guys do together," finally getting around to answering his question, "is jerk each other off. It feels great. Want to try?"

"Sure," he replied. So I moved down toward his swollen cock and started stroking. Then I licked my fingers and rubbed the head of his cock. As I did so, I had a good close-up view of his equipment. They grow them big and healthy in Montana, I thought. His reactions were controlled, still a little nervous, but he was clearly enjoying the experience. I continued stroking while teasing his balls with my other hand. Soon, I was using his precum to lubricate the periodic rubbing of the head of his cock.

I desperately wanted to taste his cock, to take it in as far as I could. But I reminded myself that we had to go slow. Soon, he shuddered, his cock trembled, and I knew he was ready. I saw the blast of cum start to rise up the shaft of his cock. I squeezed hard, preventing it from escaping out the end. I held it for just a moment. The slight pain made him cry out. Then I let go as my free hand diverted a great stream of creamy cum onto his chest and stomach where it formed a large pool. He lay there panting.

"Holy cow," he finally said. "That's a lot better than doing it alone." And there's more in store for you, I thought to myself.

I asked him if he had ever tasted his cum. "No," he admitted.

"You should try a little," I urged. "Dip in you finger and lick it off." He did as instructed but screwed up his face.

"It's an acquired taste," I commented. I walked to the bathroom, my erect cock bobbing in the air, and returned with a towel to clean him up.

"Can I do it to you now?" he asked. I was very horny having seen that lonesome Montana pine rising up from the underbrush and standing majestically at the top of the canyon formed by his thighs. His cum was like a frozen mountain lake, all white and glistening. It all made me very hot.

"Be my guest," I replied as I laid down flat on my back. He moved down, gripped my cock as if he was strangling a snake and started beating furiously. Not very subtle, I thought, but strangely erotic. I thrust my hips high and released a pearly stream of cum high into the air. It splashed down across my chest and stomach. Jerry finally released his vise-like grip and allowed blood to circulate in my cock again.

I laid there for a few moments. "Thanks," I muttered. Without another word, I saw him dip his finger in my cum and bring it to his mouth. Licking his finger, he again screwed up his face but not so noticeably as before. Using the same towel, he wiped up my cum.

"So that's what guys do together?" Jerry asked. I was exhausted and ready to get some sleep.

"That's one of the things," is all I replied. "Now let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

I was awakened by a short but loud cry. Only a night light illuminated my apartment but it was enough to see Jerry sitting across the room. He had just jerked himself off and cum was sliding down his chest. He took two fingers, scooped up some of his cum and licked it off. He continued the ritual until his chest was clean. I guess he had acquiring the taste, I thought. Before long he slipped carefully back into bed and I fell back to sleep.

On Saturday, we did the tourist bit: zoo, museum, even walking around downtown. At every opportunity (when we could talk freely), Jerry was asking about what I did with the guys. He was much less interested in sex with girls. I began to feel like my old prof in the sexuality class but, of course, my descriptions were much more graphic. I was sure to include warnings about pick-ups. And I was sure to explain the pros and cons of revealing or concealing his preferences.

We returned to my apartment where I was going to fix some stir-fry for dinner. Jerry was, by this time, eager to experiment with some of the things we had been discussing. Dinner was delayed.

"Can I taste your dick?" he blurted out.

"Sure," I replied, "but just for future reference, it's better to build up to it."

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

"Lay down on the floor," I said trying not to sound too commanding. He obeyed. I knelt down and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, reaching under his shirt from time to time to massage his well-developed chest. I removed his shirt and continued massaging, now giving attention to his nipples. I moved down his torso with my hand. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. I felt his cock that was beginning to harden under his briefs. I pulled down his pants to his ankles and returned to his crotch. I slid my hands slowly under the waistband and gradually lowered his briefs. His pubes came into view. I traced circles in the hair with my fingers. I lowered his briefs some more. The base of his cock came into view, clearly showing signs of hardness. When his briefs were fully down and around his ankles, his cock sprang up. I wrapped my lips around the head of his waiting cock, flicking with my tongue.

I continued sucking his dick for a few minutes but then stood up abruptly. "That's the way it's done. Don't just unzip and start chewing." I probably sounded harsh but I didn't want a repeat of his athletic pounding from the night before. "Remember, s-l-o-w-l-y," I emphasized.

"Right, coach," he said,

I laid down on the floor. He sprang up, kicked off his shoes and pants and stood above me with his gorgeous cock extending straight out. He was a quick learner. He undressed me as I had him. When I felt his moist lips around the tip of my now hard cock, it was extremely welcome. In spite of my warnings to go slow and gently, however, he seemed to be aggressive in his attack.

I pushed his head away and said, "Lesson two. Lay down. Pay attention to what I'm doing." He did.

I gave him the best, slowest, most sensuous sucking that I could. He was writhing in pleasure. Then, his body tensed and he growled, "I'm gonna shoot!" When he shot into my mouth it hit the back of my throat with surprising force. I swallowed most of it and spread the rest around the tip of his sensitive cock. His moans were like applause to stage performer.

He looked up at me. "That's really wonderful. Thanks. My turn now?" I laid down as he got up to his knees. "Before you start," I interrupted, "are you prepared for it."

"What do you mean?" he asked quizzically.

"If I shoot in your mouth," I continued, "it will be a new sensation. Not every guy likes it."

Without a pause he said, "But I might and I've got to try it."

It was not the best job ever done on me but it wasn't the rough-riding, bronco-busting effort of the night before. He was reasonably successful in duplicating my technique. When I shot into his mouth, it seemed to take him by surprise. He swallowed some but a lot leaked out and dripped down my cock and onto my balls.

He laid down next to me with is head close to my pelvis. He watched my grateful cock grow limp. "So now you've tried it." I said.

"Yeah," he replied, "Not like I imagined it. Better."

We ate dinner--in the nude. He commented that even that was different than he had ever experienced. "Oh, you like stir- fry?" I teased.

"No," he replied humorlessly, "just sitting around together naked. That's something that would never happen back in Montana." I let my weak joke die.

That night, in bed, we did a 69 on each other. His principle reaction was, "Geez, it gets better all the time!"

Sunday morning we did more of the tourist bit, visiting some more sites that he could never see in the hills of Montana. That day, however, his questions focused mostly on what I did with girls. I explained that sex with girls was different but just as satisfying. His curiosity was endless. His questions were sometimes terribly naive but I answered them all.

Larry met us about 4:00 that afternoon and took Jerry out to dinner and then to the airport.

Monday morning, Larry called me into his office and closed the door. "How was the weekend," he inquired. I knew he wanted to know more but deliberately evaded him.

"Great," I replied and mentioned some of the tours we had taken.

"Cut the shit," he interrupted. "Did you do anything with each other?"

"Well," I began thoughtfully while Larry strained to get the information he sought, "Let's just say we enjoyed the time we spent with each other." Larry's eyebrows raised. I still hadn't answered his real question so I want on, "Your nephew may turn out to be like you ..." (I noticed a slight frown.) "... or he may turn out like me." (The frown vanished.) "Or he may turn out as straight as his father. But he understands his choices. He understands himself. Whatever he does with his life, his visit here will have given him a better basis for a good decision."

There was now a broad smile on Larry's face. "Great," he said, "I owe you one."

"Consider the debt paid," I replied. "It was a great weekend."

Larry's phone rang and he instantly switched channels. He was talking like the very successful, very promising regional manager of a dynamic business. I left his office and went to work.

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