I let out an audible exhale. It was in, but tighter. I arched my back deeper, to make it in. "Bend over baby, will be easier to go in" he assured me. But i didn't want move from this embrace.
I put back both my hands on to his ass, and pulled him in. I needed it in. I wanted his breath on my neck, his voice in my ear and his hand on my cock. And when I got it all, just when his cock went all the way in, the mild discomfort only somehow made it more exciting. It was quite the sensory overload.
"Not yet, i want to stay here longer" I exclaimed. "Go slowly, i want to feel you" I requested.
"Oh, you're my new favourite person" he said with a smile.
He was going slow. He wasn't in a rush. He wanted to talk to me. It provided some intimacy. And the more he asked, I found myself becoming more susceptible to admitting or saying things, I would never dared or known to say weeks before. But the comments of being "his" were the real turn ons. My mind was spinning.
I even found myself doing something I wanted to instinctively the night before. I was pushing back on to his cock. Seeking him deeper into me. He matched my movements to thrust in as I pushed back. "You really do like this Mr" he cheekily said. As he placed one of his hands back on to my cock, he could feel my dick semi hard. I hadn't even noticed it's stiffness disappear. But I was dripping with precum. But my arousal was higher.
It didnt take much encouragement with his hand back on me, and as soon as he started to jerk me off, i blew my load all over his hand and bed. My dick felt like a useless, wound up toy that only had 10 seconds worth of play time. But as he thrusted in and out of me, my dick wouldn't stop leaking. The orgasm had a peak, but there was a lasting, present one. Again, no post nut clarity. I just wanted Allan to seed me. Give me his seed.
"Ah fuck Allan, please, please cum inside me" I pleaded.
"Okay baby, I'll do anything for you" he replied. He pushed me down so I'd bend over for him. But with my head right to the bed. My ass really exposed to him. With my head tilted to the side, i couldn't help but watch in the mirror as he came off his knees into a crouch position and watched as he carefully pulled himself in and out of me with long strides, picking up the pace.
I've fucked my wife identically to this before. You know. In reverse. I've never been in my wife's head. But these primal intrusive thoughts were louder than any words she ever spoke. But like my desire to give her a piece of me by breeding her when we have sex, I wanted a piece of him. His first load had already changed me and willingly, no, wanting, for him to change me more. In that moment, the idea of being a gay man wasn't ridiculous.
He verbally confirmed my transition. "You were meant for this cock baby, I'm gonna cum". I couldn't help but be proud with my own shit-eating grin.
"Fuck me baby" I pleaded. Yup, it slipped out. And he picked up his pace gripping and pulling firmly on my hips back into him, until he gave his final push, collapsing into me, burying his seed into me. I could feel his balls spasm and tense, resting on my taint.
As he remained within me, taking a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure, a familiar euphoria washed over me, knowing I had brought him to release. For my entire life, sex had been something that left me wanting to disconnect, to drift off, or feel unable to fully embrace the intimacy of the afterglow of sex. But now, for the second time with him--the only two times we'd shared--I felt an overwhelming flood of oxytocin.
It wasn't an ideal situation, especially knowing my wife would be returning in a few hours. Yet, I found myself wishing he wouldn't leave. I stayed dutifully in place as he reluctantly withdrew, his lingering seed leaving its mark. He slapped my ass and taint playfully with his still hard cock, asserting his dominance in a way that felt a little degrading, but welcomed.
Eventually, he lay down beside me, and I turned to face him. His cheeks were flushed, and I imagined mine were much the same. Our legs intertwined, and in that quiet connection, I had a revelation of clarity. I realised just how misguided I'd been my entire adulthood--harboring some vague, unspoken belief that intimacy between two men would somehow be less profound than with a woman.
In fact, it felt freeing, particularly in that moment. A lifetime spent projecting a distorted version of masculinity, always avoiding vulnerability, never allowing myself to let my guard down--here it felt irrelevant. I no longer had to walk or talk a certain way. Most men would think the worst about having their heterosexuality tested like this. What was the worst anyone could say?
"You know, you took to that a little too naturally, I forgot I was the gay one for a while there", he teased with a playful grin and soft giggle.
And suddenly, I found myself smiling. At least for a while. My wife just called and she'd be home in an hour.
