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A Lot in Common Underneath

By: Ken Nitsua



Author's note: This story is very loosely based on a true reminiscence I found posted on the Net. My apologies to the anonymous author of the original whom I cannot acknowledge by name. KN

*

Years ago, I had a job that kept me on the road a lot. Sometimes I had to share a room. On one trip I went with Ethan, who had been at the company only a few months. We got along well at work, even though he was married and I was gay. He knew about me and didn't seem to have a problem with it. It's not like he had to be seen with a flaming queen in public. I kept my private life private and to the outside world I looked and acted pretty conservative. Underneath, though, I liked to freeball or wear a jock, even to work. It was my quiet way of making a statement, and besides, it felt great.

I didn't figure anything was going to happen on this trip. Ethan was straight, and we were both workaholics. Besides, we knew this was an important assignment. Still, I was looking forward to getting a chance to check him out. Ethan was a good-looking guy, a little younger than me, with a solid, not fat, body and a neatly trimmed reddish beard. My guess was he had lots of body hair, which I've always liked on a man.

We got to our hotel late. There was just enough time for me to check my e-mail on my laptop, which I set up on the desk. After I did that I was so beat that I staggered into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, stripped and got into my bed, naked. 

I saw Ethan shoot me a look when I took off my clothes. He must have seen I wasn't wearing underwear. Interesting that he'd noticed. He got into his bed dressed in white Jockey shorts. As I'd guessed his chest was covered with copper-colored hair. As tired as I was my cock stirred at the sight. I was glad I was underneath the covers so he couldn't see.

The next morning I got out of bed, showered and came out of the bathroom naked, holding my towel. Ethan was awake but still in bed.

"Up and at 'em, big fella," I said. I couldn't help noticing his eyes flickering down my body. Well, why not? I kept myself in shape and was proud of it. In another moment it was my turn to look as he threw back the covers and got out of bed, yawning.

"Wish I could spend another hour in bed," he said. To my disappointment he went into the bathroom still wearing his shorts.

It was going to be a long business day and I didn't quite feel like freeballing the whole time, so I put on a jock, a broken-in Bike No. 10, very comfortable. When Ethan came out I still hadn't gotten dressed. He grinned.

"Up and at 'em, big fella," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, pretending to be annoyed as I got fresh clothes out of the closet.

"Didn't know anyone still wore those things," he remarked, pointing at my jock.

"Okay, make me feel like a dork," I said, kidding him.

"You like wearing that?"

"Sure I do," I said, my interest perking up. Why was a straight married guy so interested in my underwear?

"Always thought they made high school boys wear 'em to keep them from jacking off," Ethan said.

"Never stops me," I said, and we both laughed. At that point we realized we were running late so that was the end of that conversation. Still, I thought back to it a couple of times later that day.

It was about ten o'clock that night and we were back at the room, sitting on our beds watching television. We'd picked up a six-pack on the way back to the hotel and were enjoying a nightcap. It had been a productive but long day and we were both beat. I wasn't too tired to cop furtive looks at my suitemate, though. Ethan had taken off his shirt and unzipped his pants as soon as he'd gotten in the room. 

I noticed that every once in while he'd stop looking at the TV screen and let his eyes wander across the room. After a while I started to wonder what he was looking at. I shot a look over there myself and nearly fainted. My laptop was facing us. It had switched to screensaver mode and was running one that I had designed myself-naked vidcaps of the hunky cast of Oz, the HBO prison show.

Ethan spoke just at that moment. "That was a good show," he said.

"What?" I said, stupidly, still blushing at my indiscretion.

He nodded in the direction of my computer. "The one you got those pictures from."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, it was," I said, inwardly cursing myself for sounding so lame. For the second time that day, though, I was surprised and intrigued. My married co-worker had first commented on my underwear, and now he'd let me know he was cool with my slideshow of naked men.

I thought about it, then made up my mind. I stood and stripped down to my jock. Ethan laughed.

"I'm surprised you waited so long to do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"Get naked." He paused. "I think I'll join you."

He stood up and took off his pants, and I didn't even try to hide my stare. He had been freeballing all day. His cock was surrounded by the thickest bush I've ever seen, and his ass was muscular and very hairy.

"Where's your underwear?" I asked.

Ethan snickered. "What, only gay guys can go commando? You know it ups your sperm count. Helps your wife have babies."

All I could say was, "Whatever." I flopped back down on the bed, taking a swig of beer and trying to calm down. My co-worker was definitely up to something.

We went back to watching TV in silence, but I noticed that Ethan kept eyeing my jock. One more beer and I decided to up the ante. I peeled the Bike off and tossed it on the floor between our beds. My half-swollen cock flopped out onto my stomach.

Ethan looked at the jock I'd thrown on the floor, then looked at me. I stared back, daring him to say something. He grinned.

"Slob," he said. "You pick that skanky thing up off the floor."

"Make me," I replied.

"You asked for it." With that, he bounded off his bed and onto mine, trying to pull me to the floor. We laughed as we tussled but quickly it turned into a real contest of strength. We both started sweating as we continued to wrestle. Ethan wasn't as big as me but he was skillful and agile. Finally he had me pinned on the bed face down, one arm behind my back.

"Say you surrender," he panted.

"Fuck you," I spat back. He jerked my arm upward until I shouted with pain. "Okay, okay! I surrender!"

He let me go and stood, breathing hard. I stayed on my stomach, partly because I was winded, but also because I was throwing major wood from the excitement of our contact and I didn't want him to see.

"Did I ever tell you I wrestled in college?"

I snorted. "Asshole."

"Hey! None of that profanity." I looked up at him. Ethan snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. "Now pick up that jock, or I'll put another hold on you."

His cock was sticking out at an angle from his body. It was very definitely larger than it had been earlier. This was turning him on as much as it was me. I decided to force the issue. I stood up and faced him. There was no way he couldn't see my erection.

We stayed frozen in position for a long moment, chests heaving, staring into each other's eyes.

Then I reached my hand out and grasped his cock, and slowly started to stroke it. At any moment I expected him to back away, or grab my hand and ask what the hell I thought I was doing. Nothing happened. I finally dared to look up at him. To my relief there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"What about that jock?" he asked.

"Okay, I'll pick it up. But first I have to service you."

"Service me?"

"Sure," I said, taking my life in my hands. "I lost. Loser has to service the winner, right?"

Ethan didn't reply, just laughed a little. I took that as a yes and knelt before him, feeling the rug scratching my knees, still hardly believing my luck. I grasped his meaty butt cheeks and leaned toward him till I could smell his musky scent, feel the heat rising from his crotch. I didn't take his cock in my mouth right away but let it bump against my face, closing my eyes, enjoying its steely heat and the drop of moisture from its tip that clung to my cheek.

Finally I couldn't wait any longer. I stuck my tongue out and felt it contact the skin of the head, smooth and hard. I licked at the cleft at the tip, sucking out some more of his salty precum, before finally engulfing him all at once, shoving my head forward until my forehead was pressed against his stomach and my face was buried in Ethan's coarse pubic hair. It tickled my nose and I stifled a sneeze.

A moan rose from Ethan's throat. His hands were in my hair. My own cock was so hard it was painful. Where I was now was beyond my wildest dreams. I worked hard to get what I wanted before he came to his senses, sliding back and forth on his veined shaft, twisting my head to give him maximum sensation, lubricating him with so much spit it ran down my chin and dripped onto the carpet beneath us.

My efforts were rewarded when my clutching hands felt his thigh muscles tighten. A moment after that Ethan began to grunt as his hands grabbed my head, holding it in a viselike grip as he began to fuck my face with quick brutal thrusts. I gagged repeatedly but held on for dear life. Just as I reached the limits of my endurance Ethan emitted a wordless howl of ecstasy. Simultaneously I felt his cock come to life, filling my mouth with his thick salty cum. I gulped it down as fast it came gushing out, keeping my face buried in his crotch, determined to get every drop.

Ethan's shouts turned into gasps for air and he sagged forward against me. I let his softening cock go, shiny with my spit and his semen, and began to lick it clean. After a moment he pulled back.

"Don't...too sensitive."

I nodded and let him go. My friend turned and sat down with a thud on the bed, clutching the side of the mattress, looking thoroughly winded. I stayed on the floor, watching him come down from his sexual high, a bit nervous about what his reaction would be. 

Ethan raised his head and our eyes met. I held my breath until I saw his smile.

"You swallowed," he said. "Every drop."

"Yeah," I agreed.

He shook his head with a wondering air. "My wife never does that. Hates the taste. You like it?"

"Love it." I shrugged. "That's why they call us queer, I guess."

He frowned. "You're not queer."

I chuckled. "It's no big deal, Ethan."

He shook his head again. "I've sure learned a lot tonight." He opened his mouth in a tremendous yawn. "Well, buddy, I'm beat. Okay if we get some sleep?"

"Sure," I said, though I was aware of my aching balls and still semi-hard cock. I'd wait to relieve myself until Ethan went to sleep. At least it seemed we were still friends.

I'd just settled in and closed my eyes when Ethan said, "Hey Mike."

"What?"

I opened my eyes and looked over at his bed.

"Thanks, man. That was great."

My heart gave a leap but I didn't let anything show on my face. "No problem." I remembered something then. I got up, picked up my jock that had started it all and tossed it on his bed.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Ethan asked.

I looked him in the eye. "Keep it. It's yours. Until our next trip together."

Ethan stared a moment. Then he took the jock, got out of bed and slipped it on. "What do you think?" he asked.

My only answer was a groan.

"What?" he said, looking concerned.

I gestured at my crotch. I was fully hard again. "Look what you've gone and done. Now how am I supposed to get to sleep?"

He grinned. "Guess you'll have to take care of it."

I'd secretly been hoping he'd offer to do exactly that. Still, the thought of jacking off in front of my friend was hot enough. I lay on my back and began to pull on my cock, fast and furious, not taking my eyes off him for one second. Ethan stood, hands on hips, looking amused and a bit puzzled at my frenzy.

"Turn around and get on the bed on your hands and knees," I told him.

"What?"

I repeated my instructions. "You mean like this?" he asked, kneeling on the bed so that his furry butt, framed by the straps of the jock, was pointed directly at me. His hairy crack parted just enough for me to catch a glimpse of rosy pink.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Oh yeah," I mumbled, as my hand moved even faster. "Mmm...yeah...YEAH!" I shouted, as the orgasm overtook me and hot spurts shot out of my cock and over my stomach and chest.

After a while I caught my breath and opened my eyes. Ethan was lying on his back, head propped up on one elbow, looking at me.

"Wow, you really shot a big one."

I felt something I couldn't explain, joy and despair all mixed together. "Do you know how hot you are?"

He shook his head. "Me, hot? No way."

"Yes, you are. You're a god among men."

Ethan grinned, blushing. "Mike, you're weird."

"Nah, just queer," I said, reaching over and grabbing a handy t-shirt to clean myself up. And you're straight, Ethan, and what the hell just happened?

I decided not to push for answers right at the moment. We said our goodnights, got in bed and turned out the lights. In a moment I was drifting off to sleep. It had been a night of surprises. I hoped there'd be more nights like it.

I woke up before the alarm went off the next morning. It was seven o'clock and dim light was filtering into the room from the window.

I looked over at Ethan's bed. He was still asleep, lying on his side facing away from me. I lay there a few minutes looking at him, listening to his breathing. I thought about what had happened late last night, and hoped it hadn't been a dream.

We had another day of presentations and meetings ahead of us. There wasn't any time to dwell on last night's after-hours activity--I had to start the day. I threw back the covers and padded to the bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom, naked of course, Ethan was just getting out of bed. That was when I was sure that last night hadn't been a dream. He was still wearing my jock, and looked damn hot in it.

He smiled, still sleepy-eyed, when he saw me. "Morning," was all he said.

I couldn't think of anything better to say than, "How you doing?"

He got up and came toward me, and my heart almost stopped. "Just great," Ethan replied. He brushed past me on the way to the shower, close enough so I could feel the warmth of his body, putting his hand on my bare stomach. There was a familiarity about his touch that let me know he remembered last night too. A great happiness rose up in me, and something else rose as well. I had to remind myself sternly that right now was no time for fooling around.

"Don't take too long in the shower," I called out, trying to keep my voice casual. "We've got to get moving."

Ethan stuck his head out the bathroom door. "Yes, Mom," he said. "Make sure and put on some clean underwear, you hear?"

"Have to, you've got mine."

He grinned. "That's right, and I'm keeping it." He disappeared inside, and I started hunting for something to keep my hard-on in check.

The day was uneventful, though intensive. Late in the afternoon we finally closed the deal we were after. When Ethan and I got out of the last meeting we gave each other the high five and went to dinner, wrung out but happy.

When we got back to our room it was nearly midnight, and we were more than a little drunk. As soon as the door closed behind us Ethan gave me a look that said "What now?" I hesitated, suddenly nervous, but my friend didn't seem to have similar thoughts. He took off his suit jacket and the rest of his clothes, calmly peeling down to his jock, or rather, my jock. He saw me looking at him.

"I wore it all day. Maybe it brought us luck."

"Maybe," I said. There was a silence.

"So," Ethan said, "What did you have on today?"

I shrugged and started to take off my clothes. Just to tease him a little I kept my necktie knotted around my neck when I shed my shirt. Soon I was naked except for the tie and my underwear of the day, a swimmer jock with a stretchy, almost transparent pouch. Ethan took it all in and nodded, approving.

"Very nice." He came toward me and my heart started to beat fast. Up close I felt his body heat, caught a discreet whiff of cologne mixed with his man scent.

Ethan reached out and pulled at the waistband of my jock, looking down at the contents of the pouch. He met my eyes and smiled. "Guess tonight it's my turn."

I was floored. I hadn't expected any reciprocation from him. "You really want to?" I asked, like a fool.

In reply he knelt, peeling the strap down my thighs until my hard cock jutted free. Before I knew it he had it in his mouth and I was gasping with pleasure. Ethan sucked fast and hard, and he knew how to use his tongue. It was obvious he had done this before. I resolved to find out just what my married friend's story was--afterward.

In just moments he had me at the edge of cumming. I didn't want this to end so quickly. I pulled him to his feet and sank to my knees, burying my face in the moist, fragrant pouch of my jock that he had worn all day. The thought of his hairy, cut meat and heavy, full balls being where my equipment had also been kept my cock hard as a rock as I licked and sucked his cock through the rough fabric, soaking it with my spit. Ethan ran his hands through my hair, moaning softly.

"Aw, suck me for real, buddy."

I pulled aside the pouch and his cock sprang out, fully hard. I licked the head clean of his precum before I took it and his veiny shaft down my throat, pausing in my labors only to wash his balls, and once to stop and pick a pubic hair out from between my teeth. Ethan chuckled.

"I really ought to shave. Dore complains about it."

"Don't you dare," I said, before diving in again. Soon Ethan pulled back and out of my eager mouth.

"Hold on just a minute. I don't want to blow."

I nodded. "Turn around," I said. I wanted a taste of something I hadn't gotten last night. He obeyed. I nearly blew my own load right then as his buns came into view, framed at the top by the jock waistband and at the bottom by the elastic leg straps, a hairy, muscular triangle divided in two by the cleft between his cheeks.

I slipped my hands underneath the straps and grabbed a handful of butt in each hand, pulling his cheeks apart until the prize I'd caught a glimpse of last night was visible in all its glory. I started slow, licking at the top near the waistband, gradually working my way down into the hairy, funky crevice until my tongue touched the soft smoothness of his asshole. As I let it flicker around and into the opening Ethan moaned again.

"Oh, yeah, buddy, feels good."

He shoved himself back at my face so that I almost fell over backward. I plastered myself to his ass and ate out his hole for all I was worth. The wet smacking noises of my rimming mingled with his groans and whimpers. Ethan was crazed with lust. I knew that if I turned him around and deep-throated him again it would all be over. As much as I would have liked his hot load pouring down my throat, I wanted even more, so finally I pulled back from his butt, my face slimy with spit.

"Up on the bed."

Ethan obeyed eagerly, clambering onto the mattress and flopping over onto his back. I went to the bathroom and returned with a square foil-wrapped package and a plastic tube. I'd stashed them in my toilet kit, just in case, and I was glad I had.

He looked worried when he saw the condom and lube.

"Man, I don't know if I can do that-"

I realized what he was thinking, and laughed. "Don't worry. I won't make you-this time." I climbed up on the bed and pulled my strap off of him in one motion, taking a long heady whiff from the pouch before I tossed it across the room. "The rubber's for you." I got rid of my own jock, which was soaking wet by now, before I hooded his rod and greased him up. Then I squatted over his body, grabbing his shoulder to steady myself with one hand while I guided his cock to my asshole with the other. Slowly I let my weight down, feeling the blunt head pushing at my back door. Suddenly I yelped with pain as his cock broke through my resisting ring and slid inside. It had been a while since I'd been fucked and I could feel it.


A Lot in Common Underneath Ch. 02



Copyright 2007 by the author.

*

When my cell phone finally rang about 4 o'clock I almost dropped it in my haste to answer. I finally got the right button pressed, and heard his voice for the first time in five years.

"Mike?" Ethan said. "How are you doing, buddy?"

I had to swallow hard before I could talk. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it over the phone.

"Where are you, Ethan? I'd thought I'd hear from you before now."

"I know, I know," he said, sensing the strain in my voice. "My plane was delayed last night due to the bad weather at O'Hare, didn't get to the hotel till midnight. Then the meetings started first thing this morning. I just got out. Literally."

"Well, are you going to be able to come by?"

He sighed. "I don't know. My return flight's going out at eight. It's going to be tight, Mike."

I was surprised at how upset I was. I made my voice low and flat, the only way I could keep it from shaking. "Ethan, I've really looked forward to this. Even if you just stopped by the office that would be fine. Please."

A pause. "Okay. If you don't hear from me otherwise, I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"Thanks." I cut the connection and let my hand holding the phone drop into my lap. Inside me, anger fought with relief.

You were going to leave without seeing me, Ethan. After all that we had together. Fuck you.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Mike?" It was Brad, one of my co-workers, at my office door. I shrugged.

"Not for too long, I hope."

"You work too hard. See you tomorrow, man."

"See you." I forced a smile.

Half an hour later I was the only one left. The entire floor was silent except for the distant roar of traffic far below. The late fall day was ending--darkness was already falling. I sat at my desk, staring unseeing at the computer monitor, fingers drumming. 

Then down the hall I heard the soft chime that meant the elevator had arrived at my floor. In a flash I was out of my chair and hurrying down the hallway.

I nearly bumped into him coming around a corner, carrying a briefcase and rolling a small bag behind him. Ethan smiled, and my hurt and anger dissolved in an instant. "Mike," was all he managed to get out before I threw my arms around him. I didn't even think to check that we were alone. I just knew we were.

Ethan dropped the handle of the carry-on and hugged me back without hesitation. His beard scratched my face. I drank in his scent, cologne and good clean man, trying to make up for five years without it.

When I let him go he stepped back and looked into my face.

"How did you get past security downstairs?" I asked.

He smiled. "Good old Joe remembered me. Can you believe that?"

I shrugged. "You're a memorable guy."

His smile vanished. "Mike, I could tell you were really upset. I can't believe I even thought about leaving without coming by."

I shook my head. "Forget it." I took his hand and led him down the hall. "Come on in."

He whistled when he saw my private office. "Very nice. You've gone places," he said, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Not as far as you, but I've done okay." I sat on the couch and patted the spot next to me. "Sit down a minute and tell me what's been going on."

"So that's all we're going to do, talk?"

I looked up, startled. Ethan gazed steadily down at me, a small smile playing on his lips. A tingle raced through my body and I felt my cock stiffen inside my pants. I licked my suddenly dry lips.

"You had something else in mind?"

Ethan's stuff hit the carpet. The smile became a broad grin. His wool-clad crotch was directly in front of my face, bulging.

"I've got something for you. Pull down my zipper."

I started to laugh, but Ethan shook his head. "I'm serious. Do it."

I fumbled at his fly until I found the metal tag, and pulled. I snaked my fingers into the opening and past his shirttails. Suddenly I stopped. My eyes widened.

"You are a fucking devil." I'd seen the rough, yellowed material underneath-the elastic cloth of the pouch on a well-used Bike #10 jockstrap.

"Did you think I wouldn't remember?" His voice was low and husky.

In a flash I had unbuckled his belt and pushed his dress pants down to his ankles. He was, of course, wearing my old jock that I had given him the last time we had been together in that hotel room, so long ago. I pulled the pouch aside and the cock that had been just a memory since then sprang free, as long and hard and veined as I remembered, a drop of precum already oozing from its tip.

I groaned in delight. My hands slid underneath the leg straps and grabbed his butt cheeks while my lips surrounded the flaring, perfectly shaped head. The next moment it disappeared down my throat as I took him down to the root, my nostrils drinking in the musk of his coppery pubes. Ethan groaned and thrust his hips gently at my face.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered.

Incoherent slurps and moans were the only sounds I made for the next few moments as I blew him for all I was worth, sliding back and forth on his steel hard shaft, tugging at his balls, flicking my tongue into his piss hole to lap up the salty nectar flowing out of it. I was like a man dying of thirst who'd suddenly found an oasis.

"You're as hot as ever, Mike," Ethan said.

I let go of his rod with a smack and looked up into my friend's face, past the glistening pole of flesh resting on my nose. "Back at ya," I croaked, hoarse from his dick head bumping the back of my throat. My own crotch throbbed painfully. I'd been too caught up in servicing Ethan's cock to think about releasing my own from the confines of my clothes.

The same thought must have crossed his mind.

"So do I get to see what you're wearing underneath?"

I grinned. "Not much." I stood up and looked him in the eye. "Just so you know, the door's locked from the outside. But let's make it a little safer."

I took a few steps away and flipped the light switch by the door. Now my office was lit only by the glow of the city and the twilight sky, filtering in through the practically floor-to-ceiling windows.

Even in the middle of a quickie my mind was ticking away. We didn't have enough time to do everything I would have wanted to do with my best friend. What did I want most?

I turned my back to Ethan, undid my belt and let my own pants fall to the floor. I was wearing one of my favorite black fashion jocks. I hoped my butt still looked good enough framed by the leg straps.

I didn't have to worry. "Aw fuck, Mike!" Ethan exclaimed, his voice sludgy with lust. "You remembered too." I felt his hands pushing my shirttails up my back to get a better look. "Damn. It's been so long since I've had your ass."

He stripped off his suit jacket, dropping it on the couch, and moved closer. I felt his erection poke into one of my cheeks and slide into my crack.

"So you want my ass, Ethan?"

"Fuck yeah."

I chuckled. "I've never messed around in my office."

Ethan bent forward and wrapped his burly arms around me, hugging me hard. "You mean I get to be the first? Damn."

"You do." I'd already decided exactly where we were going to do it too, and how.

"I hate to say it, but I don't have a rubber."

I turned and looked at him. "We stopped using them, remember? I'm still clean."

"I know you are, Mike. But-"

I turned and saw his troubled gaze. In a flash I knew what he was getting at.

"I trust you, Ethan. You'd never give me a disease. Or Dore either, right?"

Relief crossed his face. "Course not."

I teased him, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't have any lube either. There'd better be a lot of spit on that thing. Want me to help?"

I didn't wait for an answer before I hit my knees. It took only a few moments more of my slobbery sucking before Ethan pulled back.

"Stop, stop. I'm going to blow right now."

"Wouldn't want that." I got up, hitched my trousers up enough so I could walk, and headed toward the window. When I got there I let everything below my waist hit the carpet. I bent and placed my hands on the sill, then looked over my shoulder and grinned at him.

"Come and get it, buddy."

In his eagerness Ethan forgot that his pants were around his ankles. He took a step, tripped and almost fell, saving himself only by grabbing the arm of the couch. He caught my eye and we burst out laughing. His cock jutted out, a dark, veined prong beneath the tails of his white shirt. His tie was still impeccably knotted around his neck. He was a ridiculous and smoking hot sight, all at the same time.

He finally managed to get over to where I was. I felt his big paws on my hips, his cock bumping my butt once again. All of a sudden he stopped moving. I looked back. Ethan's gaze was fixed outside, taking in the magnificent skyline.

"Great, isn't it? Did we ever fuck with a view like this?"

He smiled and shook his head. "All those hotels we stayed in too. We were too busy with each other."

I reached up, grabbed his head and drew it to mine for a quick kiss. "Better hurry. You'll miss your plane."

"Scrunch down a little," Ethan said, as he took hold of himself. I felt the head of his slick cock nudge my hole. The next moment shouts of "AH!" erupted from both of us, his ecstatic, mine agonized. Ethan was hung and it had been a long while, never mind that we weren't using real lube. As the fireball exploded in my gut I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath escaping in short, desperate hisses between my gritted teeth.

My buddy had no idea what was going on, but mercifully he stopped partway in. His arms enfolded me and I felt his hot breath against my ear. "Oh baby," Ethan breathed. "You're worth waiting five years for."

I nodded, trying frantically to relax and unclench my violated bowel. "Give me just a minute," I said, terrified at the thought of him thrusting his tool further into me.

He kissed my ear. "I won't move. I'm about to cum right now."

So we stood, absolutely still except for our rapid breathing. I let the lights of the city outside blur into misty points of brightness in my vision. Finally I felt my insides give. I drew a long, shuddering sigh as Ethan's cock began to move again. Another few seconds and I grunted as his pelvic bone hit my butt. He was all the way in.

"Oh, fuck," Ethan said.

I pushed back against him, extending my arms and ducking my head down between them. "Fuck me, Ethan."

"You got it," he said, his body grinding into action, slowly pulling his cock out so I could feel every inch, then ramming it home in one huge thrust. His hips moved faster and faster, and every time he hit bottom I cried out. Soon he was drilling me like a great machine. My separate noises of pleasure became one long wail punctuated with obscene hiccups, caused by the staccato impacts of his pelvic bone against my butt cheeks.

I looked back underneath our bodies. In the dim light I could just make out the shadowy cylinder of his shaft sliding in and out of my hole, stretched to its limit by the invader. Just in front of it our balls swung in tandem, along with my own rod.

As much as I would have liked it to go on and on, it was a short fuck-we were both too aroused. When Ethan grabbed my cock it only took a few moments of his jacking it for the orgasm to rise in me.

"Aw fuck," I groaned as he pushed me past the point of no return. Hot spurts flew from my dick, hit the wall beneath the window and ran down onto the carpet. Fuck it, I'd worry about that later.

As I shot my sphincter clenched tighter around Ethan's cock inside me. Behind me I heard his breath grow deeper and faster, then turn into hoarse grunts.

"Take my fucking load, Mike!" he shouted, as he arched his back and drove as deep as he could into me, turning his face to the ceiling. "Oh God!"

I felt his rod pulsing in my ass as he dumped his load in my gut. Then Ethan collapsed onto my back, his gasps ringing in my ear, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck. One hand still grasped my gradually softening cock. His other arm wrapped around my chest and held me close.

We stayed locked together in that position as our breathing gradually returned to normal. Finally we stirred to life. He rose up and I turned, letting his cock slip out of me.

There was one more thing I had to do. I knelt in front of him and lifted the front of his shirt. His superb organ, still swollen, hung down, catching the dim light, slick with his cum, my spit and whatever else. I took it in my mouth. Ethan jumped and tried to draw away, but I held him insistently, laving the head and shaft with my tongue and swallowing it all down. Not until I was satisfied that he was clean did I let go and look up. My buddy was looking down at me with that half-fascinated, half-appalled expression I remembered so well.

"Mike, why'd you do that?"

"A good bottom always cleans up his daddy," I said. I grinned and stuck out my tongue at him. "Don't worry, I won't make you do that the next time I fuck you."

"Damn right. Else you never will again." He smiled and shook his head. "Mike, you're something else."

"So are you." I rose up and caught him in a bear hug. He hugged me back, and we stood rocking, holding each other.

That moment is what I remember the most.

All too soon it had to end. Ethan let me go and started pulling together his disheveled clothes. Despite the air-conditioning we were both sweating from the exertion.

"You got a restroom nearby?"

"Out the door and to your right." When he left I tried to put myself together. My thigh muscles were stiff from the unnatural crouching position I had assumed. My asshole burned from the friction of our under-lubricated fucking.

None of that mattered. I sat on the couch with a light heart, my earlier frustration a dim memory. My friend was back, and he still wanted me. Being alive was pure joy.

Ethan came back in at that moment through the open doorway and snapped on the light. He was back to his impeccably neat self. His smile when he saw me was tempered with anxiety.

"Geez, it's late. Sorry, Mike, but I've really got to run."

He picked up his briefcase and jacket where he had let them fall, fished out his cell phone and put it to his ear. I watched, gloom descending over me at the thought of his impending departure. Then his face changed. He snapped his phone shut and put it away, no longer hurrying.

"Well," Ethan said.

"What?"

"My flight out's delayed at least an hour and a half. Means I won't get back until two in the morning."

We stood silent, looking at each other. Then I shrugged.

"Not enough time to get a hotel room."

Ethan shook his head. His eyes had a strange expression in them that I realized, with a shock, could only be tenderness.

"You know, Mike," he said. "Not that sex with you hasn't been great, but-"

He reached out and grasped my shoulder.

"I'd love to go have a quick bite to eat. Talk. Catch up."

I nodded. "I know just the place."

Ten minutes later we were in a little Greek cafe just around the corner from my office building. Over plates of gyros and tabbouleh we sat, deep in laughter and conversation. Ethan now had two children, a boy and a girl, who were doing fine, as was his wife. The only problem was spending enough time with them.

We talked of the separate ways our careers had gone. After rising to an executive position with a major company Ethan had quit to start his own consulting firm. With his smarts, social skills and contacts he had done, to say the least, extremely well.

He asked me how I was doing in my work. Well enough, I replied. I'd never had Ethan's ambition, but I'd always been a good worker and had gotten my share of rewards.

"Truth to tell," I said, "I think I've hit the glass ceiling."

He scoffed. "You're a white guy. What are you talking about?"

"Well, yeah, but hello, Ethan. I've never tried to hide what I am. After a while the out gay guy just doesn't get the big promotions."

"That sucks."

I shrugged. "I'm doing okay. Actually the company's been very supportive. Besides, I don't have a family to feed."

He smiled. "No domestic partner?"

"No." I looked him in the eye. "Think you've spoiled me for anyone else."

He shifted, uncomfortable. "Aw, Mike." He fell silent. I knew what he was thinking. Move on. Stop carrying the torch for me.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not wasting away pining for you. I have a life. Can I help it if I don't want to just cut you loose forever? Are you saying that's what you want?"

"No!" The quickness of his answer made me feel better.

"It's not just that-" I lowered my voice. "It's not just that you're the hottest guy I know, Ethan. You're a good friend. I never talk like this with anyone else."

Ethan smiled. "We make a good team. I wish we still worked together."

My heart gave a leap. "So," I asked, trying to keep my voice even, "Want to swap?"

He looked puzzled, then his eyebrows shot up. "That's right, I forgot." He grinned. "We should have done that first."

I looked at my watch. "We'd better hurry." I glanced toward the back of the restaurant. "We could do it here."

"Isn't that risky?"

I looked around. There was hardly anybody in the place. The men's room was at the end of a long corridor and I knew the door locked from the inside.

"I think we can pull it off. I'll go first."

When he slipped in the restroom a few moments later, awkwardly stumbling in with his luggage, I already had my pants off. My hard cock strained at the confines of my jock pouch.

"Looking good, Mike." He unbuckled his belt, kicked off his shoes and quickly stepped out of his trousers. A few swift movements of his legs and the Bike #10 was in his hand. He offered it with a smile.

"Here you go."

I pulled my own strap off more deliberately. My erection sprang upward as soon as it was free. Ethan looked down and licked his lips. To my utter surprise he dropped the Bike jock and fell to his knees.

"I want to taste you."

My cock was engulfed in hot, slippery pleasure. "Oh God," I cried, slapping my hand over my mouth so we wouldn't be heard. "Ethan," I hissed at him, "Are you crazy?"

He paused in his labors, looked up and grinned. "Guess so. You better cum quick, Mike."

"That's not going to be a problem," I said, closing my eyes as he took me into his mouth again.

There wasn't any time to be gentle. I grabbed his head and started fucking his face with quick, violent thrusts. Less than a minute later I unloaded down his throat, making the strangest noises as I tried not to let loose with my usual scream of pleasure. Faint gulps rose from Ethan's throat as he drank every drop.

He released me with a gasp and got to his feet, bathing my face with cum-scented breath. "Wonderful," he breathed as he put his lips to mine. We shared spit and what remained of my sperm in his mouth.

"Damn, Ethan," I said when we broke apart. "You never liked to swallow before. Or kiss."

He paused, and I saw a faint echo of the look he'd given me back at the office. Things had happened to my friend in the five years since we'd last been together. What they were, I didn't know. I'd have to find out--next time.

I patted his cheek. "That was great. We've got to get going."

In record time we were out on the curb, dressed, groomed, jockstraps exchanged, Ethan's luggage accounted for. It never happens in the city, but the first cab that he hailed pulled up and stopped. It saved us from any mushy farewells. One quick hug, a last "Take care, buddy" and he was gone. I watched the taillights of the cab recede down the busy street, the cold breeze of approaching winter ruffling my hair, my heart full of mixed emotions.

Ethan's giving me back the Bike #10 had been an unspoken promise. Whatever we had would continue a while longer. Were we lovers? Friends? Fuck buddies? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was out there, and returned my feelings in some small way. For the moment, that was enough.




A Lot in Common Underneath Ch. 02



The wind gusted, sending a chill through the seat of my pants. Wearing a jock in November has its disadvantages. I turned and headed for the parking garage and for home.

END 



A Lot in Common Underneath



"You okay, Mike?"

I managed to smiled and nod. "Yeah, just give me a minute." I screwed my eyes shut and took quick breaths, willing myself to relax. My thigh muscles were tiring and it wasn't going to be long. In another minute I raised my head, letting out another cry of mingled pain and pleasure as I sank down onto his pubic bone, taking all of his sizable length into me.

"Aw Jesus," Ethan said.

"You okay, buddy?"

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Are you kidding? I've never felt anything like it. Damn, it's so sweet."

I smiled. "The pleasure's all mine, believe me." I started to slide up and down on his rod, leaning back so that it bumped my prostate on every stroke. I watched Ethan's face. He tossed his head from side to side as the new sensations flooded through him, occasionally muttering softly.

I continued to ride him, squeezing my ass muscles around his cock, now and then grinding my hips for variety. My own cock was hard as steel, despite the fact I hadn't touched it for minutes. There was no sound in the room except for our pants and groans.

Suddenly Ethan sat up so that his face was only inches from mine, his hot breath bathing my face. He slung his arms over my shoulders. His eyes were wide and dark with emotion.

"Mike, this is fantastic. I never thought I could feel like this."

I put my arms around him and leaned forward to kiss him, but he let me only have a quick peck on the lips before he hugged me hard instead. I felt a fleeting disappointment, then put the feeling aside. What he had already given me tonight was beyond my wildest dreams. I leaned back, taking him down with me, until I was doubled underneath him on the mattress, my calves over his shoulders.

"Finish me off," I whispered to him. "Fuck me just as hard as you can. Give this queer the pounding he deserves."

Ethan grinned. "You asked for it," he said. His hips swung into overdrive. In a moment the bed was shaking and squeaking and I was grunting every time he slammed into me. "You like that, queer boy?"

I didn't mind the slur one bit, in fact I egged him on. "Fuck me harder. I can take anything you can dish out, asshole. That the best you can do, straight guy?"

In reply he fucked me even harder. "Take that, bitch. How do you like that? And that? And that?"

I was stroking my cock for all I was worth. Soon I felt the sperm rising in my balls and abandoned myself to the coming explosion.

"That's it, fuck this bitch. Yeah, yeah, yeah...Oh yeah!"

A flash exploded in my brain, blinding me as jets of white cum flew from the bursting head of my cock and spattered over my heaving chest and stomach. Dimly I heard Ethan's wordless shouts and knew he must be dumping his load into the rubber buried in my ass. My arms clamped him in a viselike embrace as we rode out our simultaneous orgasms in a heaving, groaning tangle of sweaty, hairy masculine flesh.

Finally we relaxed our grip on each other, though our bodies stayed joined. I fell back onto the bed and Ethan straightened up. A slight smile played on his face as he looked down at me.

"You're going to have to get that thing cleaned."

I still had my necktie on. It was dotted with dark splotches of cum.

"Guess so."

"You sure got a mouth on you, Mike."

I grinned. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Sure did. Can't remember when I came like that." Slowly Ethan pulled out of me, drawing a groan as his cock popped out of my spent hole. The rubber ballooned with his white cum. I couldn't resist the sight, and said, "Let me."

I peeled the condom off his softening cock, raised my head and turned it inside out over my open mouth, letting Ethan's load drip down my throat. I swallowed it, dropped the condom on the floor and turned to look at him. He was taking in the scene with a half fascinated, half appalled expression on his face.

"What can I say, I love eating your cum," I told him.

He shook his head. "I've never done that," he said.

I saw the opening and pounced. "But you've sucked cock, haven't you?"

Ethan stared. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then nodded.

"I figured you had," I said to him later, after we had gotten ourselves cleaned up. We were lying in bed, our arms loosely around each other. "You were just too good at giving head. You had to have done it before."

Ethan stared at the ceiling, remembering. "In college I had some experiences with guys. Had a roommate who I found out was bi. I enjoyed it. But I gave that all up when I got married. Never felt the urge to try it again-until you came along."

I looked him in the eye. "So are you cool with it? We've still got to go back and work together, Ethan. I don't want this to screw us up."

He thought for a while. "I think so. As long as we keep it discreet."

I nodded. "What went on here stays here. No one will hear a word about this from me, ever. And I won't ask you for anything other than what you're prepared to give."

He relaxed a little more. "Thanks, Mike. I appreciate that." Then he smiled. "So do I still get to keep your jockstrap till the next time?"

My heart leaped. So Ethan was saying there would be a next time. "Damn straight. Sorry, poor choice of words," I said as he hooted with laughter.

"Well," Ethan said as we settled down to go to sleep, "I'd say this has been a good trip."

I caught a glimpse of two jockstraps on the hotel room floor, the Bike no. 10 he'd been wearing that day and the fashion jock I'd put on. "So would I." I turned out the light. In moments Ethan was asleep. The last thing I heard before I drifted off myself was his peaceful, even breathing. The last thing I felt was the warmth of his big body next to mine.

Ethan and I had started our business trip as friends and co-workers. By the end we were fuck buddies as well. We were determined to keep our new relationship a deep, dark secret, not only for the sake of Ethan's marriage but also for the company. There's no surer way to disrupt office morale than to give people something to gossip about. Ethan and I worked well together and I wanted that to continue.

So we settled into our daily routine once we got back, not changing our habits at all. If we happened to break for lunch at the same time, fine, but Ethan and I didn't go out of our way to spend time together. We never socialized after hours either-his wife was expecting their first child and as soon as quitting time rolled around he was on his way home. Needless to say, we never hugged or touched in public.

I had to admit I got frustrated once in a while, but I put up with it. I liked Ethan a lot, even more than I lusted after him. I wouldn't do anything to disrupt our friendship. I wanted him to trust me. I had an ulterior motive, after all-if he trusted me he'd be more inclined to continue what we had started. And I very much wanted that.

Ethan, good guy that he was, must have sensed what I felt. Once in a while he did something to let me know he hadn't forgotten what had happened. There was the day he walked into the men's room on our floor just as I'd finished my business. My dick leaped up at the mere sight of him--this was a common occurrence that I had to be on guard against--but I managed to zip it into my pants.

He smiled at me. "How's it going, big fella?" he asked.

"Oh, just fine," I replied, wishing I could jump his bones right there, and knowing I'd never dare.

I walked over to the washbasin and was occupying myself running water and soaping up when I heard him say my name.

"What?" I said, not looking up.

"I said look over here."

I turned my head. Ethan was standing facing the urinal, his head turned toward me. A big grin was on his face. He'd let his dress pants slide down his hips enough that I could see half his bare butt, encased in the wide waistband and leg straps of my Bike.

"I'm wearing it."

"So I see," I managed, just before he pulled down the jock in front so that his big meat flopped out. I gave up trying not to get hard.

"You freeballing today?" I heard the rattle of liquid against rubber as he let his bladder go. How could he be so fucking casual?

"Yeah."

Ethan finished peeing and milked his cock dry. A small whimper rose in my throat at the sight of him handling himself. I hoped he hadn't heard. He pulled his pants up, zipped himself closed and flushed. I forced myself back to the business of washing my hands, my own dick straining painfully at the front of my pants.

"So how are you doing with the Steiner account?" he asked as he washed his hands in the sink next to mine.

We exchanged small talk about business. He left the men's room. As soon as he was gone I raced into one of the stalls and whipped my cock out. It only took a few quick, fevered strokes before I shot into the toilet. My knees buckled as I tried to stifle my groans. Afterward depression swept over me.

Do you know how hot you are, Ethan?

Finally I calmed down enough, and my cock shrank enough, to go back to work.

I had given up hope when Ethan came up to me one morning, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" I said, hardly daring to think the thought.

He punched me on the arm. "Boss man's sending us on the road again, guy."

The desire to throw my arms around him and squeeze the breath from his body was overwhelming. I did allow myself a hearty clap on his shoulder. "That's great. When?"

A week later we were in coach together on an American Airlines flight, poring over our notes, tapping away on our laptops side by side. I was so happy I was beyond lust. It was just great to have my best friend to myself, doing what we both loved most-our jobs.

I'm being honest when I say that I didn't think of anything other than business until after we checked into the hotel and were on our way up the elevator. I caught Ethan's eye. He had a mischievous grin on his face.

"What?" I said, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"I'm wearing it," he said. "You?"

I kept my voice even, though the blood was pounding in my ears and my breathing was quick and shallow. "Yep."

"Good." Ethan fell silent. We didn't speak further until we had found our room and the door was safely shut behind us. He put down his baggage and began to unbuckle his belt. I followed his lead. In a moment we were dressed in nothing but jockstraps, both pouches bulging.

"Time for you to give mine back," I told him.

He nodded. "That was the deal. Want to swap?"

My cock leaped in its pouch. "Yeah." We stripped our supporters off together and straightened. We were both naked, and very, very hard.

Ethan smiled and licked his lips. "First things first."

He dropped my Bike jock that he had worn for weeks on the floor, fell to his knees and took my erection into his mouth. It was a warm, wet homecoming and I groaned out a welcome. I pulled back after only a few minutes to avoid cashing in my chips too soon. The jock that I had peeled off moments before was balled up in my clenched fist. I took it and pressed the pouch into his face. Ethan whiffed and slurped at it, his cries of satisfaction muffled by the stretchy fabric. I looked down at his cock, hard as steel, poking up from the thicket of pubic hair, a thread of syrup hanging from the rosy cap. The next moment I was down on the floor on all fours catching the precious fluid with my tongue.

We never did make it to the bed, but ended up sixty-nining on the carpeted floor of the hotel suite beside our luggage and discarded clothes, sending up a symphony of slurps and groans that were muffled by the cocks and balls stuffed into our mouths. Eventually I took a breather and let my tongue wander behind his ball sack and through his legs, wetting the hairs in his crack until it reached the silky flesh of his asshole. It had been too long since I'd eaten good ass and I plunged right in. Ethan moaned as he sucked me, a human vibrator. The climax I'd tried to hold back came rushing up. I broke away from rimming him and cried out "Fuck I'm cumming!" Too late-through the blinding force of the orgasm I could feel myself emptying volley after volley into his mouth. To my surprise Ethan didn't choke or pull away, but stayed clamped to my spigot until my balls were drained. Finally he let me go and I sat up, still shaky. He grimaced playfully at me as he wiped his mouth.

"My first load," he said.

"So how was it?" I asked him.

"You want to know the truth, I think cum tastes lousy."

I laughed. "Not everyone likes it. At first."

He shook his head. "Don't know if I ever will." He pointed at me. "I know YOU do."

"That's right. And I'm ready for yours now."

He gave it to me a few moments later, straddling my chest as I lay on the floor, stroking away until animal noises began to rise from his heaving chest. He must have been saving it too, because the quantity was amazing-half a dozen hot, thick jets full in my face that trickled in gooey streams down my forehead, cheeks and chin. The rich odor of semen filled my nostrils. I opened my mouth and caught as much as I could with my tongue.

Ethan spoke, his voice hoarse with lust. "Damn, you look hot like that, Mike."

I put my hands on his chest, raking the thick hair with my fingers, and smiled up at him. "Drinks at seven, dinner at eight."

We untangled ourselves, cleaned up, unpacked and went out to eat, wearing our swapped jocks.

I'd wondered after the first time whether Ethan would go on a guilt trip and pull back from exploring his bisexual side. Obviously I needn't have worried.

Most people having clandestine affairs feel bad afterward for one reason or another. When I think about my two years or so with Ethan I don't have a single regret. It was the happiest time of my life.

It was also strange. For part of the time I even had a boyfriend, who was as blissfully ignorant what was going on as Ethan's wife seemed to be. Since we stuck to our rule about never doing anything when we were both at home, it was easy to keep things under wraps. After a few trips it became obvious to management what a successful team we made on the road, so the joint assignments kept coming in, just often enough to keep me from getting frustrated and doing anything rash.

Our entire relationship was crammed into those eight or ten road trips. Make no mistake, work came first. We never let sex interfere with our jobs--not for nothing were we two of the most productive team members. But as soon as the meetings, presentations, lunches and schmoozing were over and we were back at the hotel, we peeled business matters off with our clothes, which we never wore in the room.

Swapping jocks on these trips quickly became an unbreakable tradition. Each of us had a rule we made the other follow. Ethan's was that I had to give him a different kind of jock every time. That was easy, since I had a bit of a fetish and owned dozens. As a joke one time I brought him a novelty number that had a hole in the pouch, a so-called suspensory jock. He cracked up when he saw me wearing it, but got down on his knees with enthusiasm. "Easy access," he said, chuckling, just before he inhaled my dick. He was game and wore it to work, too, as he did all the others, lowering his trousers and modeling it for me in the men's room, snickering. Later he winked when we passed in the hallway and I copped a look at the larger-than-usual bulge in his dress pants.

My rule for him was, he could wear my jock as much he wanted while he had it--but he could never wash it. Of course that meant when he gave it back after a month or two it was permeated with his scent, guaranteed to make me pop wood with one heady whiff or by putting it on. I always wondered how he explained the jockstraps to his wife, or whether maybe he hid them away from her. He never said.

Stripping down for the swap usually resulted in a bout of reunion sex before the trade, like what happened on our second trip. Seeing each other every day at work for weeks on end and never being able to do anything built up a lot of sexual tension. Sometimes we had to run to a dinner appointment the night of our arrival because we'd been balling just before, but we always made it on time.

Those quickies were great fun, and left enough cum in us for the long sessions after we came in at night, agreeably high from social drinking and horny with anticipation. We could barely get our clothes off fast enough, in fact one or another of us sometimes kept his jock on for a while. After all, leg straps and waistbands were handy to grab onto while giving head or eating ass, and pouches made great facemasks or cum receptacles.

Though Ethan had made the initial plunge back into mansex with surprising ease, that didn't mean he was going to do anything and everything. Like many married men he had definite limits as far as sex with another man was concerned. It became my little project to break down his inhibitions one by one. If I couldn't get him to do something, well, there was always the next trip. I was a patient man.

The times where I succeeded in getting him to break a taboo he'd had for himself were the most memorable. One especially is still burned into my brain.

It was one of the rare times on our trips that things hadn't gone well on the business end. This particular client was indecisive and demanding, a particularly irritating combination. We trudged to our hotel room at the end of a long afternoon meeting, feeling pretty down. Ethan tried to cheer me up.

"Look on the bright side, buddy," he said. "Mixner's pretty much said the deal's not going to happen, so we don't have to get up early tomorrow just to go grovel some more."

"I suppose," I replied. "But I still hate spoiling our perfect record."

"What do you mean, spoil?" Ethan winked. "We swapped our jocks first thing, just like always."

I smiled and my spirits lifted a little. "And you know what that means."

Twenty minutes later we were on the bed, me underneath, having a pre-dinner fuck, which I for one badly needed after the stressful day. Ethan apparently did too, judging from the force of his thrusts and the foulness of his language. Ever since the first time when I'd encouraged him he'd loved to talk dirty during sex. Today, though, there was an extra edge to his verbal abuse.

"Take it, fucker. Take it up your queer ass," he muttered.

Usually such talk from Ethan drove me wild, especially while his cock was reaming my hole. Today, though, I found myself getting irritated. This stuff I didn't need after getting flack all day from our client. I thought of a way to get him back.

"Queer, eh? At least I know what I am."

Ethan pulled up short. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

A little voice inside me warned me not to cross the line, but I was in no mood to listen.

"Admit it. We're lovers. You're as queer as I am."

His eyes narrowed. "You calling me queer?"

I knew I was playing with fire, but I was enjoying his discomfiture. I smiled.

"Yeah. 'Cause you're not man enough to kiss me."

Ethan's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected this. "What?" was all he could say. I was on a roll.

"That's right. You don't have the guts. C'mon, I dare you."

His face darkened like a thundercloud, and he raised his arm. A thrill of real fear rose in me-for a split second I thought I'd pushed him too far. He was going to wallop me, helpless, impaled on his monster cock, still hard as steel up my ass.

Then his hand clamped around the back of my head, shoving it up toward his face. His lips came down on mine, hard, shutting off my air supply. My first shocked reaction to the assault was to open my mouth, and his tongue drove inside. Trapped, I struggled and whimpered, but couldn't escape.

There was no choice except to kiss him back.

I have no idea how long we sucked face. When he released me my lips were bruised, my tongue sore, my cheeks scraped with beard burn. I took a deep breath and went back for more.




A Lot in Common Underneath



Finally we broke apart for good and I fell back on the bed. Ethan grinned, his humor restored.

"Now, what was that about not being man enough?"

I licked my tender lips.

"Real men can kiss. You're a real man."

"A god among men. And don't you forget it," Ethan said, as he grabbed my cock to finish me off.

"Yes sir, oh yes sir," I cried as he stroked the load out of me and over my stomach. I don't remember much else about that trip, but my prostate sure must have taken a beating.

Even after that Ethan didn't kiss me much, but that first one lasted me a long time. There was just one more prize to be won from him, and I did grab the big one eventually. It's the one part of this tale that makes me a bit sad telling it, because it happened on our last journey together.

What I remember most about Ethan was his drive to succeed. I liked to think of myself as a hard worker but I came off as lazy next to him. Almost from the time we became regular partners on these trips he told me that he didn't intend to stay in his current position forever. He was after bigger and better things.

"Mike, I've got a wife and kid," he said. "I've got to make the most of it. Not so I can have nice things, but so they can."

I'd nod and tell him how much I admired his dedication to his family. I had to grin and bear the knowledge that I didn't figure into any future plans he had. When he left, that would be the end for us. Of course I hoped it would never come to pass.

But with anyone as ambitious and as competent as Ethan it was only a matter of time. One day, about a week before another business jaunt together, I saw him come out of the boss's office with an expression on his face that made me pause.

I caught up with him as strode down the hallway toward the elevator.

"Hey, what's up?"

He turned, looking starched and spiffy in dress shirt and tie. After all this time seeing him took my breath away. "Oh, hey," Ethan said. He hesitated, then made up his mind. "Keep this under your hat for a while, okay?"

I listened as he talked in a low voice, a smile fixed on my face, my heart sinking. The corporate name he said was one we all dream about.

When he finished, I grasped his upper arm and looked him in the eye.

"Congratulations. That's great. So does that mean the trip's off?"

Ethan shook his head. "I gave a month's notice so they can find someone and have me train them. So we're still going." He smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, you know that." He punched me on the arm and started to walk away. "Let's get together and plan real soon, you hear?" he said over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I said, knowing he couldn't hear me. I stood looking at the floor for a moment. Just like that, it was over.

I dealt with the news by not dealing with it. I did my job, met with him to prepare our presentations and plan our strategy. Ethan never mentioned his impending departure, either, not before we left on the trip and not even while we were on the plane.

It wasn't until we were in the hotel room that he brought it up.

"Are you wearing one?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I said.

"Well, you know," he said, looking down at his feet. He didn't want to say that it would be the last time we'd do this.

In reply I unbuckled my belt and let my pants fall. I was wearing the old Bike No. 10 that I had brought on the first trip--the jock that had started it all.

"This is for you. You'd better have brought mine back."

He grinned in relief. "Oh yeah I did, don't worry."

He unzipped his fly and the elastic, webbed pouch came into view. I cupped it in my hand, and the momentary awkwardness between us disappeared.

They say that the best sex comes toward the end of a relationship, not at the beginning, and that was certainly true for Ethan and me. Any spare moment we had during that trip we were at each other, in every conceivable position. Ethan discarded his inhibitions about kissing and we made out like teenagers.

We also discarded the rubbers. We'd known for a long time we were both safe, and the only people we fooled around with were each other. I wanted Ethan to know the joys of bareback sex, and I wanted his load up my ass--it would be keeping a small part of him with me. I'll always remember how his big his eyes got the first time he slipped his unhooded dick into me.

"Oh God that's sweet," he moaned later, as he shot. I squeezed my ass muscles around his shaft as it delivered the cargo to its destination.

"You're the first man in fifteen years to do that," I told him. "I hope I get pregnant."

Ethan shook his head. "Mike, you're weird," he said, for the umpteenth time.

But the best was yet to come. It was our last night. We'd closed the deal successfully, our last together, gone out and splurged on a really expensive dinner (I put it on my own credit card, not wanting to get flack from the company), and were back for a private celebration in the room. I had him on his back on the bed with his legs in the air, still wearing my Bike No. 10, moaning and thrashing as I ate out his hairy hole for all I was worth.

Finally I gave myself a breather and straightened up. He was looking at me with those killer eyes, as tender as I had ever seen him.

"I love putting my tongue up your hole," I told him.

"Want to put something else up there?"

For a moment I couldn't believe my ears. "What?" I said, like a total fool.

Ethan smiled. "You've been bugging me for months. Now's your chance. Fuck me."

I was incredulous. "You really want to?"

"You heard me. Now hurry up before I change my mind."

I ran to the bathroom and grabbed the lube. Back on the bed I squeezed some out onto my hand. Ethan smiled, reassuring me that no, he hadn't changed his mind.

"Okay, here goes," I said, and slipped one finger into his hole, feeling the smooth flesh inside tighten around it. "Does it hurt?" I asked. He shook his head. Encouraged, I snaked it in until I felt the firm knob of his prostate and began to work it. His face came to life as the new sensations coursed through him.

"Mm, that's nice."

I slipped in a second finger to open him up some more. Finally I thought he was ready. I slipped the jock off of him, greased myself up, and got into position between his legs, putting his feet on my shoulders. My slick cockhead pressed lightly against his hole. "All systems go, buddy?" I asked him.

He nodded, eyes shining. I grasped my rod and began to push forward, feeling his flesh resist, then give way. The next moment my head slipped past his tight ring and I was in. Ethan cried out in pain, something I'd expected. I stopped moving.

"Don't worry, I'm not going any further. Just try and relax. Breathe."

For long seconds there was no sound except for Ethan panting, trying to obey me. Then a long sigh as I began to slide further into his canal. I had him.

In another moment my balls were pressed against his butt, his knees were against his chest and my face was inches from his. "How do you feel, Ethan?" I asked him.

He didn't answer for a moment. Then he spoke.

"I've been waiting all my life for you to come along and fill me up. I thought I'd felt everything I could--but I was wrong, Mike. I'll never forget this."

I stared into his liquid eyes, then pressed my lips to his. We stayed locked together in that kiss as I began to thrust into him. Muffled moans and other noises began to come from both of us as I fucked him harder and faster. His lips moved against mine and finally he broke away with a shout.

"Fuck me, Mike, do it!"

"You got it," I muttered, jack hammering his hole as I rushed toward completion. Rhythmic cries of "Ah, ah," rose from my throat and eventually became one long wail as I exploded in spurt after spurt into Ethan's gut, filling him with my seed. My hand, which had been grasping Ethan's cock, tightened around it as I felt it let loose with its own milky blasts. I caught as much as I could before I brought my hand up to his mouth and flattened it against his face, making him eat his own load. After he'd gotten what he could with his tongue I stuck my fingers in his mouth one by one for him to clean off.

Finally we lay finished, exhausted, stinking of sex, sweat and semen. Ethan raised his head and kissed me. I licked a stray drop of cum off his goatee.

"Was it okay?" I asked him.

He snorted, but gently. "What do you think?"

"I'm thinking," I said, "I'd like to do it again."

He winked. "The night is young."

The morning of our departure dawned gray and overcast, a perfect reflection of our mood. We packed in silence, until Ethan held up an article of clothing that had been lying on the floor, forgotten in the sexual frenzy of the last night.

"So I'm going to keep this jock, right?" he asked. It was my old Bike that I'd peeled off of him last night, just before I took his ass.

"Yep," I told him. "As long you have it, it means we'll do this again someday."

"You really think so?"

I grasped him by the shoulders. "Tell you what, Ethan. If you decide it'll never happen again...if there's not a chance we'll ever get together...mail it back to me. That way I'll know."

He perked up a little. "Like a 'Dear Jock' letter?"

I couldn't help laughing. "Hey, that's pretty funny." I hugged him, hard. "I'm going to miss you, big fella."

"So will I, Mike," Ethan said against my shoulder. "You've been the best."

I squeezed my eyes tight shut to keep the tears from starting.

I only touched Ethan one more time, at a going-away dinner some of the people from the office had for him. It was after his next-to-last day at the company, in a private banquet room at a Chinese restaurant downtown.

Dore, his wife, was there, with their baby boy asleep in a bassinet in the corner of the room. She spent much of the evening checking on him but I did chat with her for a few moments. She was pretty and totally pleasant, which made me feel worse.

"Ethan's really enjoyed working with you," she said. "He would have quit way before now if it hadn't been for those projects. Thanks for making his time here happier."

There was nothing I could say except, "My pleasure." Which was the truth.

There were the usual toasts and roasts and raucous laughter. I saw some of the women dabbing at their eyes--he had been well liked at the company, not just by me. Finally the party broke up. Ethan worked the crowd of us gathered at the exit, hugging everyone he could get his hands on.

He got to me and threw one arm around my shoulder, fixing me with a slightly drunken stare. "Farewell, O partner in crime," he said. Then he grabbed my face and kissed me full on the lips, drawing back with an exaggerated smack.

Gasps and giggles broke out around us. My face was flaming. I did the only thing I could think of, putting my arm around him and bending him backward toward the floor like we were two tango dancers. With my other hand I held his head and gave him an equally outsize, sloppy kiss back. Our colleagues roared with laughter and burst into applause. The next minute I was out on the sidewalk, heading toward the parking garage, my head spinning.

Driving home was hazardous, not only because I was close to the legal limit but because I was alternately laughing and crying.

I called in sick the next day. I had a king-sized hangover, and couldn't stand the thought of encountering Ethan carrying boxes as he cleaned out his stuff.

All this was five years ago. I haven't seen Ethan since. He still e-mails at the end of the year to wish me happy holidays, and talks about coming to visit. He never has, though, and really, why would he? We've both moved on--I left the company soon after he did, and he's now in an executive position and busier than ever. What we had was a special deal and it won't happen again. Still, I miss the camaraderie of our trips together, not to mention the hot sex. I've never met another straight man so comfortable with his body, or the idea of sharing it once in a while with another man.

I will say this, though: he's never sent back the Bike No. 10 that I gave him that last trip. And he knows my address. I'm not holding my breath, of course, but it's nice to think there's still a chance it might happen again. Maybe this is the year Ethan will make it back to town for a Christmas visit. If he ever does, I'll book a local hotel room for a little party. And I know exactly what presents we'll exchange.

END