Playing with Paul

Submitted by Graboid7

I was selling my wife’s car when I met my next wank buddy. It took a while to come to fruition. I first met him months before I’d moved into the rented accommodation, but l learnt a lot from him.

Paul turned up with his son. Two things were immediately memorable. Firstly, they were like peas in a pod. Both had black hair and brown eyes and similar stocky but sporty builds. It was like looking at the same man but with a twenty year age gap. Paul was divorced and ex-RAF. His son was about to join the army and there was a bit of banter between them over this. The second thing that was memorable was that Paul was dressed in skin-tight running tights.

I popped the bonnet and he checked the engine. I gave his arse a quick once over as he bent forward. It was perfectly solid, and I could see his muscles flex as he leaned forward. As his son was sitting in the car getting to know where the indicators and lights were, Paul and I chatted.

I wasn’t sure but I got the impression he was checking me out. He occasionally pulled at the material around his crotch and adjusted himself a couple of times. I’ve seen some guys do that to make it obvious and some guys just naturally fiddle with themselves a lot. I couldn’t work him out. The sale went well and off they went. I must admit I did have a couple of wanks over the sight of him in that clingy material.

I’d been living in my new place for some time, and was doing a shop in a local supermarket when I recognised Paul and his son. Paul was wearing the running tights again so I was doubly pleased to see him. The young lad recognised me immediately and tapped his Dad’s arm when I said hello. Paul didn’t recognise me at first until his son reminded him who I was. The car was going well, and his son was back on leave.

“How’s your wife?”, Paul asked.

“Yeah, still dead.”, I replied. His son laughed along with me. Paul was mortified. He apologised profusely but I told him not to worry, there was no reason he should remember. We chatted briefly, then parted ways.

Later that afternoon I received a call from an unknown number. I answered, and it was Paul. He said he’d found my number on some old paperwork and wanted to apologise for being an idiot. I told him there was no need but we ended the call with a vague promise from him to buy me a pint if he ever saw me out.

The next week I received a text.

“Hi, it’s Paul. Say no if you want to, but my lad and I usually go for a carvery on a Sunday. I’m doing a Park Run in the morning so could meet you after that. He’s away, so it would be just us. My treat.”

It was duly arranged. I couldn’t help myself thinking it was a bit unusual but I wanted to see where it lead. I drove, so picked him up from his house, and I have to admit was a little bit disappointed when he came out wearing navy chinos rather than the running tights.

We had our lunch, he had a pint, I had a soft drink, and chatted easily enough. He told me about his service days, I tried to make accounts sounds interesting. When I asked after his son, he laughed. His son’s bedroom had still had football wallpaper and posters of Lamborghinis and buxom models, and so he had decided to redecorate. He’d been clearing out the room when he’d discovered his son’s porn stash. We joked about it for a while. I think I asked if it was any good. Then the conversation moved on until it was time to go.

Before we left he wanted to go for a slash, so set off for the toilet. I realised I could probably do with one too and followed just after him. One guy came out as I was heading in. There was one lock-up against the far wall and the urinal was just a wall of porcelain, that lead down to a gutter system into a drain. There were no partitions and space for about three guys to stand side by side. There was also a small step up. As I entered he turned his head, saw me, and said, “Hey, there he is.”. We were the only two in there.

As I mounted the step I was able to sneak a quick look at what he was holding. It was a fat three inches, with a hood peeled back just enough to allow his slit to be revealed, which was gushing piss. I unzipped and waited for my flow to start. He asked me what my plans were for the rest of the day, and I said probably getting ready for work. When I asked him, he declared that he might go back and investigate his son’s porn stash. I said it sounded like an excellent way to spend an afternoon. We both nodded at that.

“Mind you, I probably shouldn’t be thinking about it when I’ve got my cock in my hand.”

His statement sounded like an invitation to look. I turned my head to meet his smiling eyes, and his gaze lead me to look down. His foreskin had rolled back, his head was fully revealed, and he was now holding about five inches of chunky meat. My cock pulsed, and my stream spurted harder. He gave it a few leisurely strokes, then tucked it away.

“Still, that’s what it’s there for.”, he said. I was quickly firming up fast, and as he dismounted the step, could tell he was grabbing a look as he turned.

We left, and by the time I had driven him home, it was agreed that I would pop in to have a look at the mags.

It was a shoe’s off kind of place. Very neat and tidy. The ex-military thing I guess. Not that my place is a mess, but his was very spick and span. The kitchen was open plan, off the living room. He got us both a low-alcohol beer then padded upstairs to get the porn.

When he came back into the room I could see his flies were undone, and knew he had done them up when we left the pub. There were only two mags and he dropped them on the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. He shrugged, “kids mostly go online these days”. He stood round the corner of the unit to my left, and pushed one of the mags towards me.

I began to flick through. It was fairly vanilla, but the girls in it were lovely. He opened a double page spread in the one he was reading and turned it to me. It was a big-titted blonde licking the tips of two well-endowed blokes, and then receiving both loads from them in the accompanying shots. “I fucking love facials,” he said.

I placed my left hand against the counter so I could lean in for a better look. He moved a bit closer so we could both get a good view of the mag, and as he did so I felt his zipper brush lightly against the back of my hand. I pulled the mag a little bit closer to me, and he moved his right hand to readjust it slightly back. When he placed that hand back on the counter it was positioned directly in front of my crotch. I felt him press himself lightly against my hand again. I realised what he was up to. I pushed my hips forward as subtly as I could so that my bulge would tickle the back of his hand too. He responded by applying more pressure against my hand. I did the same back, until there was no denying what we were up to. I also felt a nudge against my foot as he slid his toes onto my foot. I pulled my foot from under his and slid my own on top of his. It was like we were frotting our feet through our socks. We stood like that for a while smiling at each other. Then our bodies began to turn, and we were face to face, gently rubbing each other, exploring each other’s hard-ons through our trousers, until the grabbing became a bit more frantic, and I rammed my hand into his open fly.

“Shall we get a bit more comfortable?”, he nodded to the sofa, and I lead the way. The magazines and beer were left forgotten on the counter, and he picked up a roll of Kitchen towel. We stripped off, and showed our bodies to each other. He was incredibly toned, and his fat cock was about six inches, shorter than me, but much thicker, and almost like a tube. As fat at the base as at the top, his head didn’t protrude but was part of that solid column of flesh. He also had shaved balls, and a dark bush, with a trail that ran up to his belly button. The rest of his torso was bare which made for a hell of a contrast with his lower half that was matted in dark black hair. It looked a bit like he was wearing trousers and seemed to make his throbbing manhood stand out more. I reached for his rigid member, it felt chunky, and sizeable in my hand. He wrapped his hand around mine, and gave it a couple of strong tugs.

Turns out he’d figured things out pretty early on. Knew that he was into women but had had some early fun that lead him into a lifetime of finding opportunities for cock, cruising parks and toilets, and a nudist beach that he gave me the location of, and told me where a lot of action took place. He even had some shenanigans in the RAF. He was mostly into shared wanks at most, and preferred one-off quickies, over regular meets, and told me I was one of a privileged few he’d ever invited back to his. That afternoon we had a relaxed time, wanking ourselves, feeling each other, and tweaking each others nipples. We also told tales of our previous exploits, and I found some of his incredibly hot. We met up for fun a few times afterwards, despite his preferred M.O., as we got on well enough. Mostly, I think because of two things. One, the cum shot I fired off that day, and two, because we liked swapping stories. He’s even agreed to let me tell the story about his first time, and I think it’s worth posting.

As we were swapping tales, and hands, he was sitting back on the sofa, and I ended up straddling his furry thighs so that we could frot our cocks together. I could feel myself getting close, and his eyes were transfixed on my swollen prick as I wanked it up against his.

“Come on my face.” I didn’t need to be told twice. Well, he’d told me he liked facials! I quickly adjusted position, aimed my cock directly at him, and ended up giving him a facial neither he, or I, will ever forget. Perhaps because we had both been edging for about an hour and a half, or maybe because I was immediately turned on at the idea, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I came like never before.

It wasn’t just the volume but the delivery method. I felt an almost burning sensation as I literally pissed cum out of my dick. There were no spurts or flying jism, just a constant steam of cum watering his entire face like a hose. It just kept coming. It was falling down his face in sheets, like heavy rain on a windscreen. He cautiously opened one eye and he couldn’t believe it either. A little dribbled into his mouth as he gaped in surprise. At which point I felt a couple of warm splashes on my arse and legs which told me he had come too. My stream ended with a couple of final dribbles that left a small puddle in the dip of his neck. I flopped back onto the sofa, shaky legged, and just completely amazed at my own orgasm. His face was a mess. I laughed, but it had been fucking hot drenching him like that. I will say, it took him a fair few sheets of that Kitchen towel to dry himself off.

We spent about 15 minutes laughing about my cum shot, and discussing other memorable sexual encounters we’d had. We both got stiff again, and gave each other another wank over the kitchen floor. I gripped his shaft tightly and he literally started fucking my hand before banging out a couple of solid loads at force. I fired my load out to add to the mess he’d made.

As we said goodbye it was obvious another meet up was on the cards. I think he expected me to come like that every time, but it’s only happened a couple of times since, and not with him. We didn’t have many sessions together, he preferred anonymous encounters, but we still call, or meet up, and trade stories. He also confessed that the story about finding his son’s porn stash had been just that. The mags belonged to him but it made for a good bait and catch strategy. Fair play, he wasn’t wrong.

I would credit Paul with opening my eyes to taking a few more risks, being a bit braver, and becoming more aware of what opportunities were out there, just from listening to his stories. We both agreed it was good to have someone to share them with. I also became determined to visit that nudist beach.

---

Enjoyed this post? Please leave a comment below and say thanks to reader Graboid7 for submitting it. Join our NEWSLETTER for weekly updates and know when a new post like this one arrives, and why not send us your own experiences of bating with buddies, your fantasies, or just your opinions on male sexuality? Visit the CONTACT page to share your own story.

---