This is a fictional story in which sexual activity between consenting adult males is depicted; it is no way based on true events or the sexuality of any of the persons mentioned.
Part 1
I'd been mates with James for a couple of years and over that time we'd got to know each other pretty well. He's a couple of years younger than me, good looking, in great shape and straight.
Every so often, we'd grab a beer and catch up and every time we met up, we always managed to connect on a pretty deep level and, as far as I knew, were always honest and upfront with one another about what was going on in our lives. We pretty much covered it all work, sport, cycling, sex -- nothing was really off limits, and we always had a laugh.
Although we're both married, I don't think James had any idea that he made me hard whenever I thought about him. Ever since that night at the pub that I'd caught a glimpse of his massive cock at the urinal, he'd been the fuel for many of my wank sessions. I could never see it happening in reality but that certainly didn't stop me creating wild and passionate scenarios in my head, all of which involved that dick of his in some part of me -- my mouth, my hole, wherever I could put it.
It had been a few weeks since we'd hung out when I got a message from him asking me if I wanted to catch up later that week as his wife was going to be away for a couple of nights and he was going to be home alone and wanted to hang out.
Of course, I was more than up for going, and so we arranged for me to meet him at his place at 8pm on Friday, just after he got home from work from his shift at the hospital.
Beers in hand, I arrived at his flat right on time but after a few minutes there was still no answer. I'd definitely got the right day and time and so was just about to text him when he pulled up on his bike, sweating like a dog and head to toe in Lycra.
He apologised profusely, sweat literally dripping from his face and body, as he brushed past me and led the way into his flat.
He's a good-looking lad, just 6', probably 85kg and finely toned but not in a bulky way. And with all that cycling his legs & calves are divine.
I followed him in, my dick starting to stir at the sight of his tight butt cheeks leading me on.
"So sorry about that mate," he said hanging his bike on its wall frame.
"Got stuck at work and even though I caned it back just couldn't make up the time. You been waiting long?"
Although I kind of heard him talking, to be honest, I was just a bit lost letting my eyes feast on every cut and bulge highlighted by his blue cycling gear. All I can say is, 'Damn he looks fine!'
He took off his helmet and kicked off his clipless shoes and padded towards me, sweat still dripping before offering me a drink.
"I'd better get cleaned up. Mind if I just jump in the shower quickly? I'm so sweaty."
Heading into the kitchen to grab a beer gave me the chance to rearrange the prominent bulge in my jeans and to take a long, lingering leer over every inch of his fine frame.
I guess I may have lingered just longer than I realised as his eyes caught mine while I was leering at his bulge. I kind of quickly looked away but realised if he'd noticed he didn't seem too phased. In fact, he headed over in my direction to get a glass of water and I'm pretty sure he briefly grabbed his junk.
Moving back past me, he stood in the doorway facing straight at me, with every inch on full display. He held my gaze for a good few seconds and it was almost like he was willing me to look him up and down.
