Starting Over

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of a shower, and the feeling of a throbbing boner. The sun was coming through the window. I absentmindedly tugged on my dick while thinking about the sex last night. It was mind-blowing. I couldn't believe that I had just fucked my best friend's twenty-year old straight son. Everything was changing so quickly, and with so little time for me to adjust.

But my dick was clearly on board with the changes. And almost in response to my thoughts, it pulsed in delight, and let out a fat dollop of cum.

I heard the shower stop. After a minute or so, Brady came out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel around his wide shoulders. His cock nestled thickly between his athletic thighs. As he looked at me, it began to plump out and rise like a loaf of bread.

"You're up, I see!"

"So are you!" I said, indicating his dick.

Before I could say anything else, he knelt down on the bed and put my dick in his mouth.

He began sucking. I was amazed and excited.

He was enthusiastic, but at first there was a lot of teeth. And he was just focused on the tip.

"Ahhh," I said. He took the dick out of his mouth. "Relax your teeth. More throat and suction."

He nodded. He put it back in his mouth -- or at least, he tried to. He could get it about halfway down and then pulled out, gasping for breath.

"You have a motherfucking thick python!"

"Yeah," I said, "My wife was never very good at giving me a BJ. She always claimed it hurt."

"Yeah," Brady said. "But I wanna do it. I wanna get it all in."

And for the next few minutes, he slowly pushed my dick further and further to the back of his throat. Between gulps, he'd pull out and gasp for air and then jump back on the dick. I was impressed by the commitment. I mussed up his curly hair as he deepthroated me.

"Grab both sides of my head," he said with my dick in his mouth. "Push me onto your dick."

I did it: gently and firmly, I slid his face down my dick as far as possible.

When he was about an inch from reaching the bottom of my shaft, he stopped. He looked up at me. His hand reached up and grabbed my right tit.

I softly rocked my cock back and forth in his throat.

He pulled out and gasped for air.

"Okay, let's try it again."

He began sucking and bobbing up and down my dick. There were still some teeth, and it was a little rough, but the enthusiasm was great. I watched his lips slide up and down my shaft. Sometimes, when he had most of my cock down his throat, he'd pause again, and look up at me. That was the hottest.

"I want you to stay like that all day," I said.

He continued sucking until I could feel the sperm building up in my balls. It felt like they were fizzling.

He dove deep again and grabbed both my nipples. He squeezed.

He looked up at me again.

My dick couldn't handle it anymore.

"Ghuhhhhhhh," I said and felt pulse after pulse of hot seed flowing into his throat. I grabbed his head. My hands squeezed his face in uncontrollable ecstasy. He didn't move and he didn't look away as my body rocked and contorted.

Eventually, my rocking ebbed, and he withdrew his mouth from my cock. My exposed and oversensitive helmet could not handle his lips touching it, and I quivered when he licked the last of the cum from my slit.

"That was hot," Brady said, wiping his mouth. "But I gotta go. I have work today."

"Okay," I said. "Will I see you later?"

"Probably not," Brady said. He started to get dressed. "My girlfriend and I got into a fight last night -- that's why you found me in the bed. But I gotta make it up to her tonight."

"So, you're staying there?"

"Yeah," Brady said. "But don't worry. I'll see you soon. I can't wait to have my hole ravaged again." He briefly pulled down his pants and underwear to show his flawless, curvy buttocks.

He gathered up his gym bag and a few other items.

"Okay, Uncle Joe!" he said. "I'll see you later!"

And with that he left the bedroom. I heard him go down the stairs and talk to someone -- maybe his mother or father. A few minutes after that, a door slammed, and I could hear his car driving away.

I was left lying in the bed, my dick deflated but still wet and sensitive.

What was I going to do with Brady?

*****

When I got dressed and went downstairs, Tyler was there. He was cooking some breakfast.

"I'm making an omelet. Do you want one?"

I hadn't seen him in a while, so I had forgotten how physically impressive he was. He was wearing a t-shirt, but the sleeves barely made it around his shoulders, and his biceps were incredibly wide. His legs were elephant-thick, and his butt was huge. His legs and butt stretched his jeans tight -- I could even make out the various contours of his leg muscles in his jeans.

"Sure," I said. "If you are making one."

He turned around. He had trimmed his beard a bit, and his eyes glinted. He looked very handsome.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms wide. "Bro, I feel like it's been a long time since we hung out."

I walked up to him and gave him a hug. His massive body gripped mine, and his arms seemed to encircle me. I felt his flat stomach breath in and out against mine. Our crotches lined up against each other's, and I could feel girth push into my dick.

We held the embrace for a minute. His heat radiated against mine. It felt so good. I wanted to continue it for as long as he did. There was definitely movement in his pants, and mine as well.

But Tyler pulled away, and he went back to cooking.

"Sit down," he said. "I'll bring the food over to you."

I sat down at the kitchen table. He was quick, fluid and practiced. He could chop up a pepper, no problem. I wanted to watch him as he worked, but I felt embarrassed about doing it. So, while I waited, I scrolled through my phone instead.

Eventually, he brought over a plate with an omelet on it, and some cutlery.

"I'll get you a napkin and some coffee," he said, patting my back.

"Where is Sharon?" I said.

"She left early this morning," he said, returning with my coffee and napkin. He patted my back again and rubbed it. It felt good to feel his hand touch me, and for his muscled, powerful body to be so close to mine.

He went back to the stove and continued cooking.

"She decided to visit a friend," he said. "She's been complaining that it feels like there's too many men here."

"I'm afraid that's mostly my fault."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "She'd find something to complain about anyway."

I started eating the omelet. It was incredible -- the vegetables were crisp, the cheese melted on them was nice and sharp and the eggs were fluffy.

"This is amazing," I said. "When did you become such a good cook?"

"I had to learn it," he said. "Sharon hates cooking. If I wanted a decent meal, I had to make it myself."

I thought back to the few meals I had eaten with Sharon and Brady.

"She really is not the best cook."

Tyler walked over with his food and cutlery. I was sitting at the little square kitchen table, and he sat down to my right.

"How long is she gone for?" I asked.

"A few days at least," he said. He ate his omelet ravenously. "Maybe longer."

His thick leg and socked foot were under the table, close to mine.

"Are you busy with work?" I asked. "Will we be able to hang out?"

I reached out with my foot and tapped his foot.

He smiled his huge Tyler smile.

"Nothing on the horizon, work-wise!" He leaned back, his t-shirt riding up and showing his taut belly, and his belly button. Simultaneously, he extended his foot and stepped on mine. "We can hang out. What do you want to do today?"

I smiled.

"I don't care," I said. "As long as it's with you!"

He leaned forward, patted my leg, and rubbed it with his hand.

*****

We spent the rest of the day together: we ran errands, we worked out, we ate lunch. I had almost forgotten how much I liked spending time with him. We had the same gross out humour. We speculated wildly about dumb stuff. In general, we just liked shooting the shit and being with one another.

And I noticed that as we spent more time together that day, we gradually began touching each other more and more. First, it was back pats. Then, a hand rubbing the back. Then, a hand would hang onto a shoulder so that we could lean closer. When we sat next to each other, our legs were often touching.

It was like something had changed. Previously, it seemed like he wanted to ignore the time we masturbated together. But now, it felt like everything we did was charged with sexual electricity. I don't know what had changed, but I liked it. I felt my whole body charged with particles of horniness.

All of this sexual tension was making things somewhat uncomfortable. There were a few times where I had to try to shift my hardening dick in my pants as unnoticeably as possible. Or other times we seemed so lost in touching each other, that suddenly, I'd snap back to reality and realize other people were looking at us.

There was a moment when he was paying at a store, and I was rubbing his back. I looked over, and some young hot guy was looking at us with his mouth open. The guy adjusted himself in his pants. That only made me turned on, too.

Sometimes we'd stop talking and just stare at each other.

It was sort of maddening to be this close to him and to not do anything further. But I didn't really know if he wanted to do anything further, and I didn't want to scare him off. And this zone of dazedly touching each other was so pleasurable I figured I could stay here all of the time.

And on some level, I knew that something was going to happen between us. I knew I just had to wait for it to happen.

We went to the gym, but we didn't shower there. We had decided that we were going to go out for a nice dinner, and so Tyler wanted to shower at home. On the way home, I told Tyler that I didn't have any nice clothes for a night out.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've got some clothes. You're about my size. We can play dress-up."

Back at his house, we had separate showers. Afterwards, I stood in his bedroom. I was wearing only my underwear.

He was also in his underwear -- they were white briefs. His beard was neatly trimmed. Despite being over forty, his skin was remarkably flawless. On the other hand, I still had my beer gut, and I was hairier than him. I felt a little nervous standing next to him.

But whenever I tried anything on, Tyler was nothing but complimentary. He ran his hands approvingly down my arms or smoothed the fabric around my buttocks.

"You look so masculine, so hot. Your arms are so powerful," he said.

"I feel fat."

"You aren't -- your pectorals are massive. Take off your shirt. Look, they are even bigger than mine."

After I removed my shirt, he stood next to me, and we looked at each other in the mirror. It was true -- my pectorals did look bigger than his.

He playfully squeezed one.

"You look amazing. You're a fantasy." He went to the closet and pulled out a turtleneck and a blazer. "Put these on with those black pants."

When I had dressed in them, he shook his head. "With your salt and pepper hair, you look like a spy." He stood behind me, and we both looked in the mirror. "Very sexy."

His crotch pushed forward, and I could feel his hard cock in his underwear gently touch my butt. As he did that, he smoothed down the shoulders of my jacket.

"So fucking hot."

My mouth opened, and I took a deep breath. I just stood there for a moment and let the heat from his cock radiate into my ass. My own cock was furiously climbing to attention.

Tyler clapped his hands.

"You look great, but I gotta get dressed -- we'll be late for the reservation."

He quickly put on a half tuxedo look: black pants, white shirt, and black suspenders. The shirt hugged his back, and when he bent down, I could clearly see his lat definition across the stretched fabric. His pecs looked great -- I could even see his fat nipples poking outward in the fabric.

He spritzed me with some cologne: a warm, citrus-y scent. He put on a different, more musky, tropical scent.

We got into an Uber and made our way to the restaurant.

*****

The restaurant was elegant: dim lights, soft music, elegant patrons. There were tables available, but Tyler asked for us to sit at the bar. After the hostess seated us, she left, and we looked at the menus.

"Are you hungry?" Tyler said. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, I could eat," I said.

"Get whatever," Tyler said. "My treat."

"Oh yeah," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Does this mean I'm going to have to pay you back somehow?"

"You said it," Tyler said. "Not me!"

Our waiter came by. He was a tall, young, skinny guy with stubble and long hair. His butt was plump and round in his black jeans.

"How are you two this evening?"

"Good, good," Tyler said.

"You are both very handsome. What's the occasion? Business meeting? Letting loose? On a date?"

Tyler stared at my eyes for a moment and smiled. He rubbed his chin.

"I think we'll leave it a little undefined. Isn't that more fun?"

The waiter winked.

"I love fun! The two of look like you could get up to a lot of fun."

"Let's hope," I said.

The waiter winked at me.

We ordered and began enjoying our evening.

At first, I was a little annoyed about sitting at the bar -- your feet aren't on the ground, and it can get uncomfortable. But then I realized that it meant that when we faced each other, we had to sit with our legs in between each other. Particularly since Tyler's legs were so big, there was almost constant body contact. And as the night wore on, and we drank wine with our meal, we began leaning toward each other.

We were talking about Tyler's wife.

"I don't think there's much left in our relationship," he said. "I think we're done."

"Is it divorce?" I said.

"I think so," Tyler said, frowning. "That's one reason why she went to stay with her friend."

"I'm sorry," I said. "That's tough."

I reached out to his leg and put my hand on it. It was warm and hard under the fabric of his pants. I rubbed his leg.

"Thanks Bro," he said. "It's really meant a lot to have you here these past few weeks. I know I've been busy from work, but I've really enjoyed having you here. You are a true friend."

He reached out and began rubbing my leg.

For the fifteenth time today, I was becoming aroused again. My dick was starting to lengthen down my pants. I just wanted to touch him everywhere. I felt woozy from the constant arousal today -- I felt like I'd been edging for twelve hours. I wanted to grab his nipples. I wanted to bury my face in his crotch. I most of all wanted to kiss him on the lips.

"Thank you," I said. I moved my hand to his shoulder and began to rub it and grip it. "I didn't know what I was going to do when I left my wife. You have given me so much."

He put both his hands on my left leg and held it. His fingers spread in and out on my thigh. I could feel tingles spreading up my leg to my dick, which was now as hard as a lamppost.

"You know," he said, looking at my eyes. "Spending this time with you has made me realize what I've been missing from my life."

He licked his lips.

"What's that?"

"Someone I could talk to," he said. "Like really talk to."

"Same," I said.

"And also," he said, "I didn't know how much I'd been missing this. This feeling right here."

I took in a deep breath and felt pleasure course through my body. It was like a magic spell, or a drug. I wanted more and more.

We kind of just stared at each other for a long while when the waiter returned.

He did a kind of a flourishing gesture.

"How are my favourite guests doing?" he asked.

"Good, good," Tyler said. He leaned back and took the guy in. "How is our favourite waiter doing? I was just noticing your pants. They're very good -- very tight. Don't leave much to the imagination."

"Thanks," the waiter said. "I don't want to leave anything to the imagination. I prefer to advertise."

"What are you advertising?"

"All this?" He indicated his body. "It's all on the menu."

The waiter's glance was flicking back and forth between us. I couldn't see what was happening in his pants, but I could this wasn't regular waiter flirting -- he was really turned on. It felt like a super-power that Tyler and I had -- we were so hot and aroused, we were turning everyone else on. It only added to the excitement.

As the waiter talked to us, he reached out and patted my back. "Do you hunks want to order any dessert?"

"Hunks?" Tyler said. "You are really trying to get a big tip."

"Oh, I can take more than the tip. Don't worry." He winked again.

"Even if the tip is really big?" I said, biting my lip.

"I haven't met a tip big enough," he said, and wiped his mouth.

We laughed.

"But any dessert?"

"I think I'm good," Tyler said. He looked at his phone. "And I actually need to step out to make a quick phone call -- Sharon's calling. I probably need to make nice."

"I'm good, too," I said.

"I'm sure you're both good," the waiter said.

Tyler got up and walked out of the restaurant.

When the waiter left, I sat at the bar for a few minutes. Then I decided to get up and go to the washroom. I walked across the restaurant, and into the hallway with the washrooms.

When I reached the door for the washroom, Tyler was walking up.

"I need the washroom, too," he said.

"How was the call with Sharon?"

"Oh, it was awful," he said.

"Really?" I said. "Come, give me a hug."

We embraced. It felt magical again. My hard on, which had momentarily softened, came back, full force. With his crotch next to mine, I could feel the boner in his pants, as well.

Through my chest, I could feel his heart fluttering, and his deep breathing. He moved one of his arms lower, and I did the same. We swayed slightly.

Our erections, swaddled by fabric, jostled against each other.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

"Okay," I said. "But first I should go to the washroom."

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

We woozily separated. I staggered a little as I entered the washroom. It was clean and elegant -- a little candle fluttered next to the sink. There were three urinals and two stalls.

I chose the urinal on one end; Tyler chose the one on the other side. There was an empty urinal in the middle. I figured if I wanted to pee, I should probably not get the urinal next to him.

With difficulty, I pulled my dick out of my pants and stood over the urinal. I tried to begin the process of switching mentally to urination from arousal, but my brain could not get there. I just kept thinking about Tyler's dick a few feet away. Out of the corner of my eye, I could kind of see it -- it was erect as well. And there was no sound of urine coming from either of us.

"This is impossible!" Tyler said.

"I know!" I said and laughed.

Just then, the door to the bathroom opened, and someone walked in. We both turned to face the wall.

I heard a zipper, and someone moving fabric around.

"So, this is where the studs are hiding out!"

It was the sassy waiter.

Would he notice that we had erections at the urinals? Would he think that we were some perverts and kick us out? I was momentarily worried.

He stopped moving and stood at the urinal. He made no sounds.

All I could hear was our breathing.

None of us were urinating.

I waited a minute longer. We all just stood at the urinals, not moving.

I leaned back a little to see what the waiter was packing.

His dick, which was long and thin like him, was ramrod straight.

I looked over at Tyler. His dick was hard, too.

What could we do? The door could open any minute.

I turned slightly to the waiter to make my cock more visible and began stroking.

He looked at my cock and bit his lower lip.

"Someone needs to fix those for you," the waiter said. He stepped back from the urinal, his hard dick standing out of his fly. "Let's take it in here." He motioned toward the large accessible stall.