"When you hit the ground that first morning, I thought you broke the damn thing," said Josh Striker, physical therapist who happened to see me turn my ankle bad a month and a half ago. "I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance. CHEERS!"
The third Don Julio shot went down the hatch, our pre-set limit, after all we had to drive and and had a workout scheduled for the next morning. Josh had gotten me on my feet, he had worked me back to almost full strength to run the IMT half-marathon in Des Moines, Iowa in just over three weeks. Using an innovative push the limits of pain and healing therapy he had been developing, I was running faster than at the time of the injury.
"You know the old song, 'tequila makes her clothes fall off'," I asked playfully.
"Donnie, I most certainly do," Josh said leaning in, his lips wet from the shot, almost needing mine to cover them.
"I resemble that remark," I said with a smile, thinking to just an hour before when we were in the corner of a dark theatre, stroking each other off, guzzling our prize from each other's laps.
Josh smiled and held his glass of beer up as if to toast that thought. I had revealed my wife was away for the next two nights and he took me up on the offer to go to dinner. His wife had been cheating on him and over the course of our training we'd played around, sucking each other off in cars and then the theater today.
"Do you see yourself as a 'her' ever Donnie?" Josh asked, sipping his drink, looking intently in my eyes.
"Meaning?" I asked, not sure in what context he was using the pronoun.
"No meaning, just a question," he said and again stared at me, making me both nervous and turned on at the same time. My mind raced, do I tell him about my wearing panties stage or that I once played a woman in a local community theatre production?
"I have wondered, a lot, what it feels like to lay back," I said almost slowly down on each word. "And having a cock slowly enter my body. Then having strong hips, legs and arms push into me again and again.
"Hmmm," Josh's response was simple, quiet, he took another swig, foam lingering on the low mustache under his lip. "You've only wondered?"
"Correct," I said, liking the direction of questions, not wanting to parrot his question searching for the right follow up for him. "Do you picture me as having a lot of male suitors taking me out for tequila?"
He laughed, didn't answer, took another chip and the fresh pico relish over his lips and onto the tongue that shared my spunk with me earlier. It was at this moment I decide I would at least invite him to my house when we were done, very direct, hopefully with a kiss and my hand on his package.
"My first was a college professor who had his sites on me as a freshman," Josh said suddenly, letting me into his roots as a bisexual man for the first time. "I knew, but didn't know I wanted it as he took an interest in my studies, especially when I slipped and got a "C" in one of his classes."
"Interesting," I said, not knowing how to respond, thinking I could joke and make the obvious professor changing grades for sex. "I don't picture you as a "C" student."
"Oh I was, and I owe it to Dr. Martin for taking that interest, regardless of the motives, and commanding I study with him in the afternoons," Josh said, now his thoughts were distant, probably in the office, or at his professor's home, submitting. I had no idea of knowing where this all was heading.
"It developed slowly, then all at once my senior year," Josh continued, I pictured them getting close, doing things, wondered if Dr. Martin was married and it was like our situations. "During practicals the prior year he would linger and press, getting an idea of what my cock was like, and well, I sorta enjoyed and looked forward to his demonstrations of the techniques. Even working on the ankle area he would position his shoulder to rise into my crotch area."
"Mmmm, that's so erotic, the slow burn..." I said drifting off, looking at him as he smiled at my acknowledgement.
"I know, right!" He semi-exclaimed, finding joy in the insertions of myself into his story. "Anyway, I was taking my last class with him fall, my senior year and...."
"Josh," I stopped him, I smiled and looked deep into his perfect face. "Would you be so kind as to join me at home and continue this delicious history lesson?"
It was a risk, my hardening cock in the restaurant wanted to be alone, my mind was both active and thinking of the next step after the next step. Josh seemed a little confused that I had interrupted his story.
"If you'd rather stay here we could..." I started, but this time he stopped me.
"That sounds like a delightfully fitting idea Donnie," he said, pulling up his phone. "What's your address?"
I smiled ear to ear and gave it to him, he entered it into my contact information and said meet you there in 25 minutes, got up and started a phone call.
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I had picked up before we had met that last afternoon, just a thing I did usually when Mel was gone. I didn't know if he would want more to drink and of what and I had beers chilled, a bottle of white in the fridge, a bottle of dry red available as well as tequila.
I downed a shot, knowing I wasn't driving anywhere and I needed my nerves calmed. The door bell rang and I knew what I was going to do immediately. I moved into the entrance, walking past our wedding picture, our kids senior pictures, the artifacts of our marriage, opened the door.
Josh stepped in, smiling, with a six pack in his hand, and as he tried to say something I moved in swiftly for the kiss. I was totally into it, my mouth covering him, my tongue inserting as it had, my hands to his face. It was nice and when we broke I found out how insightful this delightful man was.
"You had that planned, didn't you" Josh said seeing the kitchen and moving to put the beers away. He hand me one, took one for himself, and sat down. "I know a lot about forced dominance."
He was in a nice polo and shorts, I had changed into just a brand t-shirt, similar shorts and had put on just a touch of cologne.
