None of the characters in this story are under the age of 18! Far from it! I suppose it could have been posted in "Mature" or "BDSM" but the dominant theme is m/m. The names have been changed to protect the guilty except for the characters who don't really exist. The men in this story are risking their health and their marriages; the ones that are married that is. The locations of this story are entirely fictional except for actually starting on a golf course. Every one of my stories is based on at least one kernel of truth and then I just let the characters take over. In this case "Mary Beth" has helped "Joe" with his slice and his handicap has dropped three strokes so far!
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I retired two summers ago. For the first time in about forty years my wife and I were free to do anything or go anywhere we wanted. We spent the fall catching up on chores around the house and then entertained family at the holidays but our ultimate goal was to move permanently to North Carolina. Our friends and family teased us about becoming "soft snow birds" but I'm sure most of them were jealous.
The community we chose was not the most expensive or exclusive but they did offer comfortable, semi spacious apartments and a variety of activities for singles and couples and most importantly, for me anyway, golf. My wife Sharon does not play; she seems to have no interest and I don't encourage her. A guy needs to get away from his wife once in a while after all!
I am not gay. I know; lots of guys start their stories like that. I do freely admit to being "bi" in the sense that I have developed a desire to be a cock sucker. So, just what's the difference you ask? I am not trying to develop a relationship other than being a cock sucker! I'm not interested in a lifestyle change just giving a guy something he can't get at home. And well, not really freely but at least here on Lit. because some of you might like to know how I came to satisfy the "gay" half of my bisexual side. You see, besides one or two encounters in college and another in the Army I've been straight, at least physically since I married Sharon. Mentally I've been cruising gay web sites since I got my first computer over twenty years ago.
I can't even begin to even estimate how many "first time stories" I've read. Guys meeting on business trips, in bars, at adult book stores, at the gym, you name it and odds are I've read it and quite often ended up with a "happy ending." Those "first time" fantasies and my second favorite, reading and writing CFNM stories have composed the majority of my sex life ever since Sharon started going through her "change of life" problems. Her problems became my problem and my interest in oral sex with a man kicked into a higher gear.
The problem, of course, as those of you who are still married can attest is two fold; safety and security. Safety speaks for itself; a guy who is disease free and discrete. Security means free to engage without fear of discovery; code word being "host." Either I have a place or you have one where we won't be bothered. The stories about truck stops, book stores, restrooms, parks or any place that is not one hundred percent secure are exciting to read but insane in practice.
So, all that as prelude gets me to the point. The plan I came up with to meet like minded guys! It was simple really, an ad on Craigslist! But not the usual description and offer and demand for pictures or your response will be deleted kind of ad. My ad was a statement of fact and an invitation to learn more!
"I suck at golf! 60+ MWM. Reply for details."
If you were in North Carolina in late April and you saw this ad and responded this is what you would have learned:
"Hi! Thanks for responding. I don't post pictures and don't expect you to. I don't really suck at golf either but I'd like to after a round if we can work out the details. I will be on the putting green at _________ (there were about fifty courses that had reciprocal agreements with my home course so over time I'd visit multiple courses). I will be wearing a pink CSU hat and shirt and practicing with pink balls. If you don't like what you see just ignore me and go about your business. If you want to introduce yourself start practicing with a pair of blue balls. If I like what I see I'll say, "It must be uncomfortable playing with blue balls." You reply, "It's my wife's fault!" We'll both know what we expect and we can sort out the details from there."
I thought my plan was ingenious. First, there was plausible deniability. Second, I'd be meeting prospective partners in a very public place. Third, either one of us could back out at any step along the way. It was perfect! And it did work perfectly. Not every time of course, but it did work! At first the problem was a lack of place but that problem was solved eventually when I met "Henry" (all names are fictional and don't represent any real person, yada yada yada...). Henry is a widower and after the second time I sucked him off he offered to let me bring guys who couldn't host back to his place with one condition: bring a six pack of beer. I was determined that Henry would never run out of beer and besides, that meant that I could look forward to a "twofer" with every hookup that didn't have his own place!
At other times things just fell through. Some guys just weren't comfortable going to a strange guy's house with someone they'd just met for a BJ. I always respected their decision because, well, Henry was just a six pack away!
By the end of May I was taking guys to Henry's place about twice a week; more if I was lucky. Henry was the perfect host. He would let us use his bedroom if my newbie was shy but if he was game Henry would join in. Henry was truly versatile. I experienced my first man to man kiss over the tip of another guys cock! Joe was going nuts at having two guys sucking him at the same time and eventually Henry's tongue just met mine. Henry grabbed my cock and I grabbed his and we just went to town on the other guys cock. He must have liked it because he got weak in the knees and kept groaning until he spilled his seed.
Sometimes I would suggest a quick nine holes to get to know each other better; after all, you get to know a guy's character on the golf course. If he plays by the rules on the golf course you can almost bet that he will honor any limits that you might set. But, you might say; he's cheating on his wife. That's true, but if you know why you can establish an alternate form of morality. Hasn't she broken the agreement by withholding sex? Ok, that's a rationalization but my best source of partners, better than divorced and widowed men, is men living in a sexless relationship. Those divorced and widowed guys are gobbled up by widows who have suddenly discovered that there still is call for what nature gave them.
The first week of June things took an interesting turn. I had just met a new prospect; let's call him "Sam." A guy that I'd blown at Henry's the previous week approached; in fact that was "Joe." Sam didn't see Joe but Joe could see that I was in the middle of meeting Sam for the first time. Gentleman that he is Joe gave me a knowing look but then backed off and gave us some space. Sam and I talked for a few minutes and decided to play a quick nine. At the starters shed we were told that because of how busy it was we would be paired up with one or two other golfers. Joe was right behind us so the starter introduced us and sent us to the first tee. We engaged in the usual small talk while we waited for the three foursomes ahead of us to tee off.
I was a little uncomfortable because even though I knew that Sam and Joe both knew and Joe knew that Sam knew too but Joe didn't know if Sam knew what Joe knew too and I wasn't sure if Joe would mess things up with Sam. At least I think that was my concern. Things didn't really start to get complicated until just before our turn to tee off. The starter arrived with a woman in a golf cart. She was seventy if she was a day.
"Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Cohan, she'll be your fourth this morning!"
"Good Morning, boys!" She greeted us pleasantly with a hint of an Irish brogue; I'll be sixty-nine myself in three months so being called a "boy" seems a little incongruous. "It's a fine day for golf and I own this lovely cart which I don't mind sharing if one of you would care to join me."
"That's kind of you, ma'am!" Joe said as he tipped his cap. "I don't mind if I do."
"Then you'll be calling me Mary Beth," she said as she smiled sweetly, "I prefer not to be so formal on the golf course, you don't mind do you?"
"Of course not, ma'am, I mean, Mary Beth." Joe answered. "My name is Joseph, but everyone calls me Joe. These chaps are Fred and Sam. I've only just met them myself." Joe winked conspiratorially at me as Sam shook Mary Beth's hand.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mary Beth." I said as I tipped my cap.