The Second Time

His consciousness stirred just enough to appreciate his condition and he smiled to himself and made a small, quiet, pleasurable noise.

He was in a cocoon; on his back, in bed, tightly swaddled in his sheet and blanket and feeling luxurious in his warmth. The air in the apartment was cool enough that it made the warmth of his cocoon all the more pleasurable. And he did not want to move, as one does when they find themselves so cocooned, but he moved his hips ever so slightly and felt the warm softness of the sheets against the small of his back, his ass and around his hips.

Heaven, he thought. Bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

He realized he was naked in his cocoon and made a slightly larger movement inside the chrysalis and his smile widened at the pleasure. Not only was the warm sheet underneath him soft and luxurious but the sheet covering his slowly filling cock elicited more pleasurable sensations.

He turned his head, eyes still closed, toward the gray light starting to filter into his room from the window and his lips met something stiff, warm, moist and fleshy.

"Suck," was the quiet, insistent but friendly command.

He opened neither his eyes to see who was commanding nor his mouth for the cock desiring entrance but rather he wet his lips as much as is possible first thing in the morning and waited.

The fleshy head of the cock, moist with a pearl of pre-cum, pressed lightly against his lips then pushed past his lips and into the vault of his mouth. Both men, simultaneously, made contented noises.

As the owner of the cock pressed his hips forward and his cock slightly deeper into the other man's mouth, the other man applied a light suction and tongued the invading member. A new experience for him and one he was thoroughly enjoying.

The cock pulled back slowly, the tongue in hot pursuit, it's tip managing to just graze the salty, wet slit of the urethra causing its owner to groan out an obscenity in pleasure. Then, the cock stopped for a moment and pushed back forward.

Pull back. Push in. Each time a little farther back, a little farther in, a little faster. The pressure and moistness of the encircling lips increasing with the movement that was now a rhythm.

The rhythm was neither slow nor fast. On a back stroke there was suddenly the feather light caress of fingertips on the other man's cheek sending shivers of pleasure throughout his face, neck and chest.

A whispered, urgent, "Oh Christ!" by the cock's owner then a sudden stop; cock, hips, the entire body held utterly still. Well, except for the cock. The other man detected a surge of warm, salty fluid in his mouth and felt the head quiver on his tongue. He swallowed the salty surge and then smiled inwardly: he had brought the other man to the edge and the man had almost but not quite tipped over that edge. He felt quite proud for his first time.

A minute or two followed. The man did nothing. The owner of the cock breathing loudly, heavily and raggedly; the cocooned man instinctively holding still and simply enjoying the feel of the living, pulsing flesh in his mouth. It was in this pause that he realized he too was hard and he could feel the sheet over his cock become wet with his own pre-cum.

The owner of the cock got his equilibrium back and resumed his rhythm with a grunt, using the palm of his hand to now press the other man's head to the pillow. There was now an urgency to the thrusts. And when the cock managed to trigger the other man's gag reflex there was no slowing. In fact the sound of the phlegmy cough, the momentary gagging and retching and the feel of the fluid from the man's mouth closing around the shaft of his cock seemed to ignite something primal in the cock's owner.

With another deliberate, hard, fast thrust to the back of the other man's throat, suddenly the other man felt his forehead making rhythmic contact with the other man's belly, he shut his eyes tighter and tried to imagine himself as a thing, an object, a cunt to bring the other man pleasure.

In short order and with another grunted obscenity, the man came. For a moment or two the man stood absolutely still, letting his cock spasm into the other man's mouth. Then, as the spasms of pleasure began to fade, he jerked his hips, erratically making shallow thrusts into the mouth/cunt.

And the other man, never having had a cock nor its cum in his mouth, roughly coughed, retched, the man's cum frothing white around his lips and on down his chin.

A deep breath, another cough. In a moment seemingly suspended in time, the man relished the taste and texture of the man's cum: salty, thick and slippery.

And then the man's lips were on the other man's, his tongue probing where his cock had been moments before.

Moments passed.

The tongue probed, the tongue was sucked, tentatively at first and the with increasing urgency. Small, contented noises of pleasure were exchanged between the two. The tongue licked at the cum on the other man's lips and chin.

And then the kiss was broken. The man stood beside the bed, taking a step or two back; the other man silently looking up at him and at the shiny wetness of the his cock.

"So?"

"Uhhh..."

"Well, so are you glad I made you spend the night instead of sending you to your hotel in Queens at 3 in the morning in a taxi?"

"Definitely." It was a solid response though lacking somewhat in enthusiasm.

"And so, you've been dancing around wanting to experience a blow job on the giving end, for Christ?! What?! The last 30 years?! Ever since you gave me a hand job in the back of that Greyhound coming home from Baton Rouge! So Sean, was it everything you imagined?"

Sean smiled. "Everything and more, Charlie," said with enthusiasm. "What else can we do?"

It was Charlie's turn to smile as he started to strip off his shirt and step out his sweat pants puddled around his ankles. "Thought you'd never ask. Pull the covers back and let me in."

The covers came back and Charlie laid the length of his body against Sean's. Sean luxuriating in the feel of Charlie's body pressed to him and of Charlie's warm dry skin against his. Sean initiated the kiss this time: long, wet and sloppy and so pleasurable for them both.

The main kiss was followed by each man urgently kissing and lightly sucking each other's necks as Charlie caressed Sean's chest and belly, for the moment completely ignoring Sean's fat, hard cock.

The sensations of lips, tongue and fingertips were bliss to Sean. Charlie's arousal was rising rapidly too; to have a live body beneath him to pleasure and be pleasured by.

Half whispered in-between their passionate make out, "Ah, God Charlie, I've had so much skin hunger this past year!"

"No talking. Ruins the make out," Charlie said quickly before dipping his head to take one of Sean's nipples in his mouth - sucking, licking, lightly biting, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Sean.

After lavishing Sean's nipples with pleasure, Charlie sat up partially and started to move down and return the favor of the blow job but Sean touched Charlie's arm.

"No. Wait."

"What? You know, Ricky and I were together 22 years, I do know how and do give good head."

"And I'm sure you do but... let me sit up partially. I'd really like you to get me off by hand, like on the bus," Sean sounded and felt awkward.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Friends from high school. The first summer after their freshman year of college, neophyte sybarites & libertines, they took a bus trip from Kansas City to Baton Rouge to see if the underground sexual life of the city was more depraved than that of New Orleans.

They spent June of that summer exploring the sexual underbelly of Baton Rouge, using an antebellum mansion of a family friend of Charlie's as their base of operations. Their host offered food and drink, lodging, the use of his car and to play their guide to the hot, humid summer, sexually charged nights of Baton Rouge.

And the pleasure seekers' determination?

Red Stick's

level of depravity was impressive. Having only heard of the ways of the

Big Easy

, they decided they would need to check it out first hand before they could say

Red Stick

was better.

On the way back to Kansas City, toward midnight in the back of their Greyhound, Sean, overcome by his experience in the secret sex clubs of

Red Stick

and observing their host and Charlie together did something that he would both cherish and regret. Without warning he reached over, with fumbling urgency opened Charlie's pants, took his cock in hand and proceeded to jerk him off, laying his head on Charlie's shoulder.

By the next summer Charlie had come out and was in a relationship with his college roommate and Sean was engaged to a randy redhead who would give him three sons over the course of their marriage.

Charlie's partner of 22 years, Rick ( Charlie's second roommate at college) died of testicular cancer within four months of Sean's wife of 30 years dying of breast cancer.

Sean had stayed in and around Kansas City after college, Charlie was off to the Big Apple. Charlie would come home to visit on the holidays and Sean would make it to New York whenever a job took him there. The two would get together for dinner and drinks when time permitted.

The day came when Sean, an IT troubleshooter, was in Queens for a client. He unexpectedly had to stay longer than planned so he called Charlie and they closed out a Manhattan bar.

Rather than let a semi-inebriated Sean get back to his hotel in Queens, Charlie insisted he stay with him in his guest room.

Sean remembered the casual depravity and debauchery of Baton Rouge well so many years in the past but the impassioned hand job on a Greyhound bus left an indelible impression. As he got older, the memory would occasionally come back. Stronger.

He marveled at what he thought was an extremely sensual act, when Charlie's cock spasmed and his warm cum flowed over and down Sean's fist, still around Charlie's cock. The memory of the moment of Charlie's orgasm was a great pleasure. The following moments were a great regret.

Why hadn't he kissed Charlie, made out with him. Why hadn't he licked Charlie's cum from the back of his hand. Why hadn't he pursued some sort of relationship with him.

Over the years when the friends would get together it was always in the back of his mind to ask Charlie for a "do over." But Charlie was in a committed relationship and Sean wasn't going to interfere and risk ruining Charlie's marriage.

But now, in their 50's, Sean and Charlie were both alone and free.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Charlie took several seconds to look at Sean then quietly, "You're obsessing about that hand job? Why? Why is it so special to you?"

"It was the first time I'd ever gotten a guy off and while I was mesmerized by the sensuality of you coming, I think I realized that I might have been in love with you. Or lust," Sean paused then resumed, somewhat irritated.

"Fuck, Charlie! I don't know! I mean as I play that scene out in my mind I wonder why I didn't kiss you, why I didn't I lick your cum from the back of my hand, why we didn't make out or something, why didn't I ever approach you about doing something more."

Charlie was a bit stunned. He had never really thought about that hand job once he became involved with other men. He had never considered Sean anyone other than his best friend from high school and still a close friend.

Charlie started to say something. Sean cut him off.

"Look. I, I don't know really. I don't really want to analyze it either. All I know is that moment on the bus, as I've grown older, that loop of memory has gotten me off hundreds of times. Sometimes, after the kids were out of the house, I'd think about it when I was in bed with Gina, I mean, you know, fucking her or when she would blow me or give me a hand job.

"Toward the end of her cancer treatment and after she died, jacking you off in my head got me off...

"Just Charlie, just uh, lie back, put an arm around my back and just, you know..."

Silently Charlie slid up beside Sean's chest. Sean arched his back to let Charlie's arm encircle his torso then Charlie took hold of Sean's cock. Lightly at first. He slid his fingers down to the base of Sean's cock and on down to feel and cup his balls.

"This more of what you had in mind for us?" Charlie asked in a quiet, flat voice as he started slowly kissing Sean's lips, Charlie's free hand moving slowly from Sean's balls to his cock to up his belly then back again.

"Yes. God, yes."

Quietly, in between kisses, Charlie said, "I like it." Then Charlie passionately took Sean's mouth and pulled Sean's cock toward him in a firm grip.

The pressure and rhythm was just right. They both watched as Charlie increased the tempo.

Sean had the irresistible urge to thrust, to fuck, and he arched his hips and ass off the bed to meet Charlie's fist.

A minute, maybe two passed.

"That's it, that's it. Fuck my hand," Charlie whispered in Sean's ear, followed by a nip and a suck at Sean's neck.

"Come for me Sean," was the urgent whisper. "I want to feel you come and I want you on my hand. Your cum. Running down the back of my hand. Now!"

Sean's thrusts to meet Charlie's fist increased in force and speed then, with a stifled grunt, the rhythm became chaotic, out of sync.

Sean thrust his hips up then held very still, not even breathing and with a protracted groan he came. His cum pulsing over the back of Charlie's hand and down across his fingers.

One last involuntary thrust then Sean's hips fell to the bed.

They both stared at the back of Charlie's cum covered fist, still wrapped around Sean's cock. It's head, purple and wet with whitish cum, quivered. Charlie kissed his way up from Sean's chest by way of his neck, bit his earlobe then breathed in Sean's ear: "You know, I bet I could make you come at least once more, if not twice," Charlie whispered rather wickedly and lustfully.

"No. Really?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The room was darkening with the dusk. Sean woke with a start, entwined front to front with Charlie. Charlie stirred.

"Hehe... So?"

"Oh, shut uh!" Sean replied with a laugh. He reached down and gripped Charlie's hard cock - very firmly and pressed it against his own equally hard cock.

"Mmm...," Sean chuckled quietly as he slowly pumped Charlie.

"No, no. Pacing my friend. If we were 30 years younger - then, then we'd go at it some more. But at our age, we need food and drink, sustenance. Some distractions and our bedtime meds. Then... I mean, if you want to."

"What, are you kidding?" As Sean gave one last, reluctant pump.

They each rolled apart and toward their side of the bed and sat up, backs to each other.

"I'll get you some towels. There's shampoo, soap and deodorant in your bathroom. I'll shower and then we'll hit the town and find something to eat. Sound good?"

"Yeah, great! But could we swing by my hotel?"

"Want to change clothes?"

"Yeah, but I was thinking. I have to be at my client's on Monday, just to follow up before I leave. So..., uh,"

"You want to spend the weekend?" Charlie asked.

Sean blew out a very relieved and happy breath, hesitated. "Yeah. I'd like that. So I'll change, check out, we get some dinner and -"

"Yeah?"

"Well. I'll let you guide the evening's activities after we get back but you know, I got a thing for Amagansett. Thought maybe we could have lunch there tomorrow, do some stargazing of the rich and famous and then move onto Montauk, find a place there, maybe Gurney's, and spend a leisurely Sunday morning in bed. What do you think?"

"Sounds great to me," Charlie said as he came around the bed to stand in front of Sean, his erection bouncing with his heartbeat against Charlie's still trim, flat stomach. "But, um, maybe, you know..."

Sean caught Charlie's eyes. The two men were smiling at each other, Sean's hand moving slowly to take Charlie's cock.

"Tell me what you want," Sean said rather thickly.

"You know - and I dare say it's what you want too."

Charlie reached out and put his hand firmly on the back of Sean's head, pulling his head slowly toward him.

"Suck."