It's past my usual quitting time on a sunny Friday when I finally close the door to my office and leave the building. It's been a stressful week, and I'm tired, brain-dead, and ragingly horny.
Hitting the gym takes care of some of the stress. I work through my usual circuit, resting shorter intervals than usual between my sets. I feel the blood course into my muscles, pumping them up. By the time I done I'm looking pretty good. I glance at myself naked in the mirror as I head for the showers and catch a guy sitting on a bench checking me out. He's cute and normally I'd consider flirting with him, but not today.
I step into one of the stalls and turn on the warm spray. My cut cock swells as I soap myself. But I'm not going to jack off here, even though there's some privacy. There's only one person who can help me with this itch that I have, and I'm heading for his place as soon as I'm done. He's e-mailed me that he's at home, waiting for me. I can't disappoint him. I've even gone to the gym today, tired as I was, because I wanted to look my best for him.
Never mind that he's never actually seen me.
His house is in a modest subdivision in the north part of town. It's easy to get there from either work or the gym, just a quick freeway drive. I'm always a bit nervous getting out of the car, but that's just me--usually no one is around, and the few times there have been people they haven't paid any attention. It's far enough away from where I live that the chance of seeing friends or co-workers is practically nil.
Even so, I walk quickly up his driveway and to his front door. I know it will be unlocked but I knock anyway so as not to look suspicious. I step into the cool silent front hallway.
He has left a chair for me to put my clothes on. I look to the right, to an open doorway. The dark heavy curtain has been hung across it as usual, a small rectangular hole cut into it in the center, less than halfway up. Beyond it the room is dark, but I know he is in there behind the makeshift barrier.
He is kneeling, blindfolded and naked, waiting.
My cock is hard, hard inside the jockstrap I'm wearing underneath my gray wool dress pants. I'm still wearing a necktie from the office. I undress in the hallway, slowly, making him wait. He likes the anticipation, he's told me. I slip off my black leather shoes and line them up neatly by the chair. I peel off my dark socks and stuff each inside a shoe.
I undo my belt, making sure the buckle clinks. Then I lower my zipper slowly, so that he'll hear the raspy buzz as it descends. I pause, and unfasten the button at the middle of the waist. My pants fall from the weight of the belt buckle and hit the floor. The air is cool on my bare butt.
I step out of my pants, pick them up and fold them neatly before I place them on the chair. I loosen my tie and undo my cuff buttons, but leave my shirt on. This is part of our foreplay--he likes to finish undressing me.
I sense movement behind the curtain, and imagine I can hear him. I stand absolutely still and silent, making him wait some more, wondering where I am and why I don't come. Finally he can't stand it any longer. I see a finger poke through the slit in the curtain. He parts the opening enough so I can see his open mouth. My cock leaps up and strains against the elastic pouch of my jockstrap. I'm through teasing him--I want this as much as he does.
I walk to the doorway and stand so that my bulging crotch pushes through the opening. Now for sure I can hear him breathing. Suddenly I feel the moist heat of his breath seeping through the elastic cloth of the pouch. His lips find the outline of my hard shaft and take hold. My own breath is coming quick and shallow now, my heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He knows how to make me wait too.
I reach around the curtain with my arms. My hands find his head and grab it, not roughly, not yet. I stroke his hair.
"Oh yeah," he whispers. His own arms snake around the curtain and take hold of my butt cheeks, sliding across them, caressing them. His hands slip under the straps of the jock and pull at it. I help him by pushing the waistband down in front. My half-hard cock flops out, head already moist with precum.
"Oh yeah!" he says again, more excited. His hands tug harder until the waistband is halfway down my thighs. I feel his tongue tickle the head of my dick. It hardens in response.
"Suck it," I urge him.
He chuckles in response, makes me wait just a little longer. He licks and kisses the shaft, tantalizing me further. Then, all of a sudden, I'm engulfed by the sliding, slippery warmth of his mouth as he takes me down to the root. I let out a grunt of surprise and satisfaction. My clutching hands force his head deeper into my crotch as I fuck his mouth, shoving my cock so that it bumps the back of his throat. I hear air whistling from his nostrils as he tries to catch a breath, then gagging noises. It's okay--he likes it rough, he's told me. Nevertheless, I let him go. He pulls back, gasping.
"Fuck that's great," he says. His hands rove up my chest, tweaking my nipples and making me grunt. They fumble with the knot of my tie. I loosen it for him and let him draw it off. He unfastens my collar button, slides my shirt off my shoulders. It falls to the floor. He slides the jockstrap down the rest of the way and I step out of it. Now I'm naked, shivering in his air-conditioned hallway, and hard as a rock.
Let me tell you how I met him.
I'd answered an ad for a "private glory hole" on Craigslist. I'd always been into anonymous sex and a glory hole in the safety and privacy of someone's house was right up my alley. I'd hoped I'd at least get good suck job when I walked into his place for the first time. I'd been a little disappointed when I saw that the glory hole wasn't a real wall, but just a curtain. Still, now that I was here I thought I might as well go through with it.
That first time I didn't strip, simply unzipped and stuck my cock through the slit he'd cut in the heavy dark material. He'd taken his slow, sweet time with me, driving me crazy with his warm wet mouth, his soft lips and caressing, flicking tongue. He'd let me pull back when I got too close--we'd wait, frozen and silent while I cooled off just enough, then he went back to work. Finally after half a dozen trips to the edge and back, his hands had clamped onto my butt and pulled me deep into his throat when I tried the same trick again. He'd slid back and forth harder and faster on my shaft as my weak protests turned first into whimpers, then roars of delight as I'd unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum into his eager mouth.
My legs were rubbery and my hands shook so that I had trouble zipping myself up in the aftermath. "Thanks, man," I said to the empty air, after I'd managed to catch my breath a little. "That was awesome."
A soft chuckle. "My pleasure." He paused, then added, "You like edging, don't you?"
"Edging?"
