Middle-Aged Men

It had been a long week and I was looking forward to some down time. One more meeting, late Friday afternoon. I'm a representative for an office equipment firm and we were trying to break into the wider regional market in the UK. I had, therefore, been in and out of offices all week, pitching the goods. Today I was in Cardiff and would be staying there for the weekend.

I found myself in a small office upstairs in a factory building, and as it was 4pm it looked like everyone had gone home, apart from Glyn, the managing director. It was a cold afternoon and he had an electric heater turned up full, which was nice when I first entered but became oppressive after a while. He seemed to be feeling it too, because he took his jacket off and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. He was aged about 65, I thought, and a typical ageing, overweight man. Tidy, though, and not unattractive. I too took off my jacket took off my tie and undid my collar. He was talking about the particular requirements of the office suite they were about to move into, and he had it all on his computer.

'Come round and look,' he said, so I went behind his desk. He stood up and motioned me to take his seat, which I did, and he stood behind the chair, leaning over me to point things out, his chest rubbing against my shoulder. The he put a hand on my ribcage to steady himself, and stroked me slightly as he did so. My left hand was at my side and I found myself putting it on his knee. After a few seconds he adjusted his stance so that his legs were further apart and I moved my hand away, but he caught it and put it back, further up his leg. He moved his other hand up my ribs to my armpit and left it there, tucked into the warmth.

'So what are you doing tonight, Steve?' he asked casually. I mumbled something about hotels and boring evenings on the road, and he said, 'Come round my place, I'll get a takeaway and we can have a few drinks. If you like...' he added quickly, in case I thought it presumptuous. But I thought, why not? A bit of company, a bottle of wine and a Chinese -- what's not to like.

Back at the hotel I had a shower and changed into my casual stuff, including the briefs that showed off my bulge best. Then I took a taxi to Glen's house, which was out in the countryside. He greeted me at the door in a masculine, matey way and showed me into the sitting room, where a takeaway bag was on the coffee table along with a bottle of Merlot and two glasses. We sat together and chatted about football, and I began to enjoy this man's company. When we had finished eating he said he would show me around the house and led me into the next room, a spare bedroom, and on the other side of the bed was a child's inflatable paddling pool. Empty.

Glen came over and kissed me and we were soon writhing together, vertically. His hands strayed all over me before coming to rest on my cock, which was hard and ready to go. When I felt him there, he was soft. 'Takes me a while,' he said confidently and began undressing. He gestured to me to follow suit, so I did. When he was naked he sat in the paddling pool and leaned back on his elbows. I looked down at him and he said, 'Don't look so surprised. You never given a golden shower before?' I shook my head. 'Kneel astride me,' he urged, and I did as he asked.

'I can't piss through a hardon,' I said apologetically. He picked up a bowl of water with ice cubes almost completely melted and said, 'Stick your package in this.' I did and it did the trick quite quickly, dissipating my erection. He put the bowl back on the floor and said, 'Okay, now the way to get me up is to urinate on my cock and balls.' I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to perform just like that, but somehow it came easily and I found myself pissing into his pubic hair. Sure enough, his penis began to rise and I moved in closer, directing my strong stream onto the underside of his cock head, then down the shaft to his scrotum. He lay back and lifted his legs.

'In my crack,' he said excitedly, and I manage to accommodate the request before running out of juice. We had a quick shower, halfway through which he dropped to his knees and sucked me, then quickly dried off and went over to the bed. Glen told me to lie down on my back and when I did so, he arranged himself above me with his face over my pubes and his cock bobbing around my mouth. We sucked each other with gusto and then he moved forwards a little and licked my perineum, then got the tip of his tongue into my arse. I maneouvred as well as I could to give him greater access and he licked my bottom eagerly. I wrapped my arms around his hips and pulled him down so I could do the same to him and he sighed with pleasure. 'Yes, lick my arse,' he said softly. We did this for a short time before the gymnastics became difficult, then Glen moved off and told me to kneel in front to him. I obeyed and he licked me happily like a dog, wanking me at the same time and then, when he could feel that I was getting close to coming, he sat up and I sat facing him, my legs over his, either side of his body, and we wanked each other off. As I came I made sure he would receive some of my spunk, which nestled into his pubic hair, and when I had finished he pushed me back on the bed, knelt over me and gushed his semen into my mouth. Having a man furiously masturbating right in front of me was a huge thrill.

Just an ordinary man, not effeminate or in any way non-masculine. Just two ordinary middle-aged men giving in to their lust and giving each other some excitement.