Joe

By Foresterdude / Andrew Ingleside

Published on Mar 30, 2015

Gay

Part 3

I really doubted I would see Joe again after that visit. He had gotten remarried the year after that and I assumed that due to not only the distance but also the unlikelihood that either of us would be in the other's area without our respective wives, the chances of another encounter were slim and none. I also knew that, based on the persuasion that was necessary to initiate the last session, Joe was much more reluctant to participate in such activity than I was, and I assumed that as we got older our interest in sex in general wasn't likely to increase. I was just happy I had the chance to get it on with him one more time.

After he had eMailed me about his marriage a year after our encounter in Miami, I didn't hear from Joe again for another 4 years until this past July when I found the following waiting in my office inbox:

"Hope you're doing well, amigo. I will be coming up to your area all too soon; my oldest sister is in cancer hospice and will be leaving us soon. While I'm up there, I was wondering if we could get together, especially with your good friend that you were telling me about when you were here in Miami. Let me know if it's a possibility; I'm sure I'll need some cheering up while I'm there. Joe"

I must have re-read the eMail about 5 times, my mind racing with the possibilities of what it might mean. It was hard to avoid the inclusion of the reference to "my good friend"; I had told Joe about my periodic but ongoing sexual encounters with my friend John during our chat as we sat naked in my hotel room after our last encounter. He had seemed reasonably interested at the time, but mostly in that I had continued my bisexuality later in life while he had not. His reference to that conversation, I hoped, had to mean that it stuck with him much more strongly than I had thought at the time. I wasted no time in responding:

"Joe-man! Sorry to hear about your sister—that would be tough. Interesting that you mention my friend that I was telling you about; just got together with him a month or so ago. Very intrigued that you thought of that, and curious about the implications. Would love to see you when you're up; will do my best to make it work. If you can speak freely at work, give me a call." My hands were shaking a little as I pushed the "send" button.

Less than 15 minutes later, the phone rang; the caller ID showed Joe's office. After I answered and kicked my door shut for privacy, we exchanged greetings and a little small talk, and I got right to it. "So, I was very intrigued by your eMail—does your reference to my friend mean what I think it does?" "Oh, I'm pretty sure it does," he replied. I could feel my penis starting to lengthen. "Well I didn't want to get too excited until we talked, but now that we have I gotta to tell you I'm pretty pumped. I didn't think we'd ever get the chance again, and even after last time I wasn't sure you'd be into it even if we did have the chance." "Well, I go back and forth on that—I change with the phases of the moon, like a werewolf," he replied with a laugh. I had to laugh as well, "I'm just happy our phases coincide, although as I guess you know I'm never out of that phase." "I picked up on that from your eMail; so you and your friend got together recently?" "We did; we try to every chance we get, but it's not easy. His wife never travels without him and mine rarely does, so it's usually either a quick visit when my wife is out with a friend or some fooling around in his car in one of the parking decks down here. It's a little risky, but I guess we both think it's worth it. That's what we did last month, and I gotta tell you it was pretty hot." "Well, I'm looking forward to it—not sure when exactly I'm going to be there with my sister and all, but I doubt my phase will change by then; I've been thinking about it pretty much lately." "I've fantasized about having another chance to do stuff with you pretty often the last 5 years, and I can't wait to get at what you've got." "I can tell you that it's in working order," he laughed. "Mine's in working order too—in fact it's worked its way down my pant leg as we've been talking; I'm hard as a rock here," I added. "I'm pretty much in the same condition, amigo. I'll try to give you as much notice as I can before I get there, and we'll just improvise after that, ok?" "Sounds great to me. See you soon."

I immediately grabbed the hand lotion and headed up to the always-vacant men's room on the 5th floor of my building, where I jerked my aching cock to a spurting climax less than 5 minutes after hanging up. I couldn't wait to see Joe again.

A week went by with no word from Joe, which was certainly understandable under the circumstances but nonetheless frustrating for me; I must have jerked off once a day thinking about what I hoped was to come (no pun intended). I couldn't shake the feeling, though, that it all might not happen—either he'd get here and the logistics just wouldn't work--maybe there'd be no time--or maybe he'd just decide that the whole thing sounded better as a concept than in reality, and/or his "phase" would change.

I wasn't really sure why I was so excited anyway; I had a solid sex life with my wife of 17 years, who was still a very sexy woman to whom I remained as attracted as ever, and I was able to arrange periodic meetings with John to satisfy my "alternative" urges. I think the main part was that even though I'm an extremely sexual person I've become very cautious about sex—I've finally got a good marriage after 3 failed attempts, two due to affairs that I initiated, so I can't be in a situation where my wife could ever find out—and because of that my safe opportunities for sex with different partners are minimal to nonexistent. As attracted as I am to women I've found, as long as your bisexual streak is wide enough, that it's actually easier to do stuff with a guy because just being with a guy isn't a "violation" or cause for suspicion per se. My friend John and I have been fooling around for almost 20 years now(!), but he's the only person other than Joe, the previous time, and my wife that I had been with in that period, and the only guy I'd had sex with at all other than Joe since my teens. I'm certainly open to sex with other guys, but I have no idea how to meet one and I'm not really interested in the risks inherent with a stranger anyway. Accordingly, I think I was really excited for the chance to have sex with somebody different, but mostly and above all to get it on with Joe again. For me, the hottest fantasies have always been based on reality, and the encounters I'd had with Joe over the years stuck with me like nothing else, both because they were so few and far between but also because, let's face it, I loved his big pre-cum dripping cock.

Finally, about two weeks after his initial contact, I got an update via eMail one Saturday: "Hey—looks like I will be coming up on Monday. Does Monday night work for you?" I eMailed back that Monday was fine, and about 11 Monday morning got a call. We arranged to meet at his hotel about 7 where, he said, we could "catch up". On the drive of about 20 miles to Joe's hotel, I ran through all of the possible scenarios of how the night might go. I was so excited my body was buzzing and I felt somewhat lightheaded. This would indeed be different than our prior encounter in that I had no planned "seduction" routine—this was basically his idea, his invitation, so I had to assume that wouldn't be necessary although it actually would have felt a little more familiar if it were. I did bring my iPad and had loaded some pictures of John and I, both in case Joe was interested and if some visual kickstart was necessary. I was also prepared to be disappointed.

Nonetheless, as I drove into the hotel parking lot I felt my cock begin to stir as mental pictures of our prior encounter flashed through my mind, and as I walked down the hall to Joe's room I was aware of it making a noticeable tent in my shorts—if he had changed his mind he was certainly going to see that I had no reservations.

He answered the door with a smile, wearing only a hotel robe—I had a pretty good impression at that point that things were going to go ok. "Hola, amigo—hope you don't mind, I just got out of the shower. Want a drink?" he asked, indicating the minibar. I could see his eyes flick down to my bulge, and he smiled wryly.

"I believe I will," I replied, and proceeded to put a Jack on ice, sitting in one of the semi-facing chairs by the window as he made a drink and took the other. We chatted for a few minutes, my erection abating somewhat but still visible. He turned back and leaned sideways to get some more ice, causing his robe to fall open a little, and there it was-- laying flat out on the chair cushion, a good 5 inches of soft cock, his large balls visible at the base. As he turned back, he of course saw where I was looking, and noticed that my cock had started to nudge further down my leg. Although he made no effort to close his robe he didn't acknowledge his exposure or my interest in it, which intrigued me.

"So, tell me more about your friend and what you guys do," he asked, leaning back a little and taking a sip of his drink.

"Well, I used to work with him," I replied, "And periodically we'd hang out. I knew he went to nude beaches a lot and was pretty sexual, so the talk would often move around to sex, and one day when I had him over to get high I showed him a video of my wife and I having sex—this was before we were married. We both got hard watching the tape and took our cocks out, and then one thing led to another. Not sure exactly how it went from jerking off to the video to sucking each other off, but that's what happened. Since then we do it every chance we get."

"Kind of how we ended up doing stuff back in Miami," he observed.

"Pretty much, I guess; I just did with you what made it happen before. I have some pictures here of the last time he and I got together..." I noted, and reached for my iPad. He scooted his chair over closer and sat more on the edge, his big cock now draped over the front of it. I pulled up a picture first of John's very hard cock, and then one of both of ours together, then his from a different angle, and then a couple of him in closeup sucking my cock into his mouth. Joe said nothing but looked on with interest. I was watching his cock out of the corner of my eye and, sure enough, as I went through the pictures it started to lengthen down the front of the chair until it reached a good seven inches or so, then started a slow rise to the horizontal as I reached the closeup of John sucking me. I wanted more than anything to reach out and encircle his long tube, but decided to wait a few more pictures. As I paused on one of me sucking John just as come was starting to emerge from the tip of his cock, I saw the first pearl of precome appear at the tip of Joe's massive erection.

Enough with the patience. "Ohhh, fuck it," I sighed and dropped to my knees in front of him, taking as much of his length into my mouth as I could with a single motion. He leaned back in the chair and spread his robe all the way as I reached under his cock and began to stroke and fondle his balls. He gave a low moan as my mouth glided along his shaft, stopping at the tip on the out-strokes to flick it quickly. I could only get about six inches into my mouth at any time, leaving several inches unattended to, but I made sure to run my fingers along that part as I continued to move his large balls around in my hand. He also started to pump his hips slowly and matched the motion to that of my mouth sliding down his sex so we were in a pleasant, sensual rhythm. I assumed that he would likely continue on to orgasm this way, both because of his previous reluctance to reciprocate and the fact that I could sense his level of excitement building to what would soon be an inevitability; he was hard as the adjacent desktop by this point, and I could taste the continuous flow of precome as it increased in volume. After a minute or so at this level his breath was coming in short gasps, and I could feel his cockhead throb on my tongue as I bathed it with saliva. My cock was also achingly hard, twitching and leaking in my shorts, and I actually felt like I might come in my pants at any moment, but I was so into what I was doing that I didn't care.

I was very surprised then when Joe put his hand on my head and stopped its motion, croaking "Stop for a minute." I slowly withdrew my mouth back along the substantial length of his shaft, giving his glans a quick butterfly lick as it emerged, and looked up at him questioningly. "Hoa, that was fuckin' good," he exhaled, leaning back further in the chair and causing his erection to lift past horizontal. As he lay his head back and rubbed his eyes, clearing his head a little, I openly stared at his cock, which was still throbbing slightly with each heartbeat and continued to pump out a solid stream of viscous precome, which rolled slowly down the shaft to his balls. He dropped his head back down and looked right at me with a smile, saying "I remember you said one time that no woman can suck cock like a guy who enjoys it, and I got to tell you I totally get it—and I can see how much you enjoy it," he added, pointing at my ridiculously tented crotch. "Why don't you get those off and lean back?"

I unzipped and pulled my shorts off in record time, my erection springing up strongly as my boxers went down. He went to his knees in front of me and encircled my shaft with his hand, jacking it slowly as he examined my penis close up. "I think I said when we were in Miami that I kind of forgot how appealing a hard cock can be," he said, and then added "It's been a long time," before plunging his mouth down over my straining organ. The years away hadn't hurt his technique any—I guess it's like riding a bike, and the reason guys are better is basically familiarity with the equipment--you just do what you like done to you. He worked his way at medium speed down my shaft, following his mouth with his hand and spending extra time flicking the underside of the head. He paused a moment to shuck off his robe completely, then ran his hand up and down my twitching pole and said "I'm kind of sorry I gave this up for so long—it's real clear to me right now what I liked about it."

"Totally agree," I responded, "Which is why I've kept it up as much as I can—I just like that I can give somebody else so much pleasure, you know? Women could always be faking, but if a guy's cock is hard you know without doubt he's excited, and being able to make somebody come, of either sex, just gets me off bigtime."

"Maybe we should get up on this bed then, and try some mutual stuff," he replied as he and moved over to the bed, his big cock still fully hard and swinging from side to side slowly.

I sat down on the bed first and reached out for his cock, using it as a convenient handle to bring him closer, and pulled it into my mouth as he stood. I gave it a couple of full length licks, then reached under it and held his balls in my hand while his cock lay full length on my forearm. As always with him, I was amazed to see that his meaty organ extended along my arm about two thirds of the way to my elbow, and I have long arms. I had always been happy with the size of my cock, and it's hard to imagine what it would be like to have something bigger, but it was certainly intriguing and since for now the monster was in my control I intended to take advantage of it. I lifted the head up to my mouth and inhaled it, still holding his balls in the other hand, and slid lightly up and down the shaft for a minute or so until his hips started to pump slightly again, at which point he pushed me back on the bed, turned around, and started licking the head of my swollen sex. This, of course, put his long pole right at my face, but actually due to its length it was hard to get it in my mouth; I had to tip my head to the side, insert it, and turn back up. We started a nice simultaneous sucking then that felt fabulous until I became aware that his cock, again due to its size, was going too deep and slightly choking me when his hips joined the action and started to thrust downward. I tapped him on the thigh and slid out from under him, suggesting that we lay side to side so I could control the pace a little better. As he nodded his head I could see that he was very, very excited--his eyes were slightly glazed and his breathing was rapid, and his cock, still pointed down toward the bed, was flexing and twitching, a long string of precome extending from its head to the bedspread below.

We both laid on our sides and pulled the other's cock deep into our mouths, resuming the deep, rhythmic motion sliding back and forth as our hips involuntarily complemented it with a rolling of their own. His mouth was so loose and light on my cock that when I felt my inevitability begin actual orgasm was still far off in the distance, and I knew from experience that such a slow, long buildup meant that when I did come it was going to be very intense and lasting. Joe was well on his way also; his cock was hard as a bat and felt about the same size, and just as I heard his breath change to a more rapid gasping I felt little white lights start to explode in the corners of my brain. I could taste his cock begin to pour out precome in earnest, and right when I felt its first strong pulse I became aware of a larger explosion at the base of my skull, and as if a dam had burst I felt the rush of sperm begin at my balls. At that same moment his cock pulsed strongly a second time, this time accompanied by a flood of semen just as mine began ejecting into his mouth. We were both moaning, grunting and slurping as we continued to come while attempting to swallow the other's down.

When our orgasms finally slowed down I let Joe's penis slide out of my mouth, but gently licked the hole as fluid continued to leak out for almost a full minute. His erection, which had started to go down, responded to my oral ministrations, and though no longer rocklike or full length, remained impressively long and thick. I concentrated hard, wanting to fully appreciate what I was looking at, because this time I really doubted we would be able to do this again. At that moment he looked and me and cracked up, saying "Man, I hate to say it might be a good thing we live so far apart, but if we didn't I'm afraid we'd be doing this ALL the fucking time." I laughed in agreement.

Even though this time the moon had been in the correct phase for him, it appeared as if he might have finally decided that were some benefits to being a werewolf.


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