Date: Tue, 6 Apr 2021 18:33:06 +0000 (UTC)
From: atlantisguy@aol.com
Subject: My New Friend Craig, Part 1

***Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe
"inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and
I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details
have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send
feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com***

Gay--Adult Friends

My New Friend Craig, Part 1



All in all, it was strange that Craig and I ever became friends. We
hadn't been boyhood playmates, college buddies, neighbors or
co-workers... any of the usual ways that guys meet and bond.
Temperamentally, we were pretty much complete opposites. And pretty much
our whole life trajectories had been different.  But for all that, a
random party brought us together and launched our improbable friendship.

But I've gotten ahead of myself. I'm Andy. I've got a decent build,
with dirty blond hair that covers my head, chest and all the usual guy
spots. I'd say I'm good looking, and haven't had a hard time
attracting the ladies. Generally professional in look, but a T-shirt and
jeans guy at heart.  I'd also have to say I'm more of an introvert.
That doesn't mean I'm shy, and I'm definitely not a full-blown loner;
rather, I'm perfectly fine being left to my own devices. I'm happy to
have my own place and live alone.  I can be kind of quiet, particularly
at first... but for all that, I'm known for warm friendliness, plus
having a wildly offbeat sense of humor.

I had just turned 30, and was starting a new phase of my life. I had
started to finally settle down into respectability, but had taken a long
way around. I was intensely curious about the world, and had both
traveled and lived abroad for a time while I had figured out my life.
Along the way I had had a number of wacky adventures--the kind that
served as fodder for all kinds of bar stories. But at last I finished up
a master's degree and secured a job in the Midwest city I had grown up.
I've had a long-standing, low-grade relationship with a girl named
Carrie. We had finally veered into "official relationship" territory a
few months ago, and overall things were going great. I felt like I was
coming into my own, on track to becoming a stable, secure adult in charge
of my own destiny.

Of course, "destiny" can sometimes throw you a curveball.

It all began when my girlfriend and I were invited to a party--a "Fajita
Fiesta" thrown by an old college friend Laura and her husband. As was
often the case, I was specifically put in charge of making margaritas for
the evening--I had learned how to make the real Mexican cocktail at a
favorite cantina in Mexico, which is nothing like the slushy foo-foo
drinks served on this side of the border. They were real, and had a real
bite to them, which made them particular, if notorious favorites among my
circle of friends. I dutifully brought in the makings to lubricate the
crowd.

I should say that Laura and I were like brother and sister, and at times
we had laughed that there had never been anything between us. In truth,
we had never had a chance, as neither of us had been single at the same
time. And after many travel disasters from back when (seriously... do
*not* go camping with the two of us... ever), we were just two very good
friends who had zero secrets from each other. I was happy when she
married her husband Jake, and happier still when they welcomed their
toddler son.

While Laura and I went back quite a ways, I actually didn't know many
people there at the party that night; most of the party goers were
friends of a much more recent vintage, along with several members of her
husband Jake's crew. Craig was one of the later--a college buddy of
Jake's who remained a good friend. He was there with his wife. Laura,
seeing me kind of standing around, brought him over and introduced us.

Both Craig and his wife looked like they had come straight from Central
Casting, but Craig was particularly good looking. The textbook definition
of "masculine." And it was an easy, casual masculinity that was all the
more interesting because it was... authentic. Most "hot guys" seem to be
artificially toned, shaved, sculpted, oiled, and primped so extensively
it's like they are the Photoshop version of themselves. Not Craig. His
build came naturally from hard work, which was still evident even though
he was fully dressed. His features, if not exactly chiseled, were strong
and masculine without being hard. His scruffed jaw felt more "lived
in," and less a fashion statement. His light brown hair somewhat
softened his look, making him seem younger than the 30 or so I gathered
him to be. His wife was a lucky girl.

Laura brought us together and exclaimed to me, "Andy! This is great. I
want you to meet Craig--he and his wife Shannon are a couple of my best
friends!" Craig and I shook hands. He had a firm grip that was electric
with old-school, friendly masculinity. She turned to him, "Craig, this
is the guy I always talk about... the one with all the disaster stories.
Andy's life is... colorful. Oh! And Craig, make Andy tell you the stories
about when he used to sell sex toys over the phone. Those stories are the
*best.*"

Craig looked at me with a look of utter astonishment. "You... you sold
sex toys over the phone?"

I gave Laura a sidelong glance and said, "Yeah... and it's not a party
unless *someone* asks me to retell those blessed stories. Sorry if
you're weirded out in the first 10 seconds of meeting me."

Craig started laughing in big, gusting bursts before saying "Oh no,
man... you are my *god!* Tell me everything!" The funny thing is that
I've found most guys seem to have the same reaction that Craig did....

My girlfriend rolled her eyes at this and said, "Oh no. I've heard
these stories all a hundred times. I'm going to mingle." She turned to
Craig's wife and said, "Shall we leave the boys to their fun?"
Laughing, the ladies beat a hasty retreat.

I soon began regaling Craig with all my best-loved tales, including times
I was on the phone when clients were actually using the products. Or the
cringe-worthy attempts of clients trying to return items that didn't
quite serve their intended purpose. And of course, the time I found
myself counseling a caller on how to correctly douche his blow-up doll.
Craig roared with gales of laughter, at one point doubled over and in
tears, and all the while slapping my shoulder companionly as if we were
very old friends and not brand-new acquaintances.

At one point, with eyes sparkling he declared, "Sir, I salute you. In
any other circumstances, your drinks would be on me!"

I laughed with him, and gave an exaggerated bow. "I live to serve, my
lord. The fact is, I'm essentially the bartender for the evening, so
allow me to do the honors."  I poured off one of my famed margaritas and
handed it to him. We clicked cups, and with a good-natured "Cheers!"
took a drink.

"Holy shit," Craig immediately blurted out. "Did you *make* this? This
is the best fucking margarita I've ever had. Excuse my French."

"No offense taken," I said as I bowed again. "Yeah, like my sex toy
stories, this is another one of my most requested party tricks. I make
them the *real* way... so tread carefully. It's essentially tequila,
Cointreau and a splash of fresh-squeezed lime to tie them together. No
mixers, no fillers, pretty much just booze. I learned it when I was in
Mexico."

Craig's ears perked up when I said this. He was fascinated about my
travel stories, admitting that he had never left the country. While I was
out there finding myself and later running through the grad school
treadmill, Craig's life had followed a very different track. He had
worked a variety of construction jobs, before working in landscaping.
After he and his wife had twin girls, he had tried to find something more
"respectable" and moved into real estate, where he was working now.
But he lived his life with gusto, collecting an impressive collection of
stories himself.

We fell into an easy rapport. As introverted as I may have been, Craig
was explosively extroverted, who just radiated a sense of good will and
hospitality, even if it wasn't his party.  We just connected, as if
there was no one else in the room.  I think we both appreciated having a
conversation where we both saw each other as our best selves. He envied
my wandering, I envied his security.

And as we talked--and talked, and talked, and talked--I realized that he
had fallen into a perfect career to match his personality. He must have
made a formidable salesman... I swear that silver-tongued devil could have
sweet talked his way into a seat on Air Force One. And he could *listen.*
I found myself opening up about things I would never usually share,
especially with a guy I had just met.

In the end, we ended up having one of the most animated, most enjoyable
conversations I had had in years.

Eventually we broke apart as the party swirled around us, and I was asked
to make more drinks and refill folk's glasses. But somehow, we kept
running into each other and falling back into our conversation. Inwardly
I was quite pleased... it's hard for adult men to make new friends at the
best of times, but as an introvert I found it particularly challenging.
Craig felt... *comfortable,* and I was enjoying myself immensely.

I gather that Craig thought the same.  I was surprised a few days later
to get a message from him--apparently he got my contact info from Laura
and Jake. He had remembered that I was still newish in town and building
up my social circle. He was hosting a group of guys for poker night... any
interest in joining them?  I carefully waited an appropriate amount of
time to respond so I wouldn't come off as desperate for human company,
but absolutely agreed to join him for a poker game he was hosting.

The game went well, and I was pleased both that I didn't lose my shirt,
and that I didn't make a killing. The guys were a bit rough around the
edges and gave me a bit of grief about being "bookish," but it was all
in good fun and I was able to hold my own nicely. Overall, it was a great
night, and I snagged additional invitations and joined them again.

Craig and I stayed in touch pretty regularly after that, and I found
myself... it's strange, but I don't know quite how to put it. I really
warmed to his friendship, and in fact found myself really looking forward
to his messages. Outside my girlfriend, he became the person whose
opinion I most cared about. He lived on the other side of town, and with
two toddler girls didn't have much time to meet, but we stayed in
regular communication... and I looked forward to having a chance to hang
out again in person.

And one day, such a chance presented itself. Craig called me at work and
noted that he would be in my neck of the woods that evening showing a
commercial property. He had no great desire to try and make it back home
through rush hour traffic, so maybe we could grab a beer after work? I
responded with what I hoped was breezy casualness, even though for some
reason I think my pulse quickened. I'd be happy to!  Inwardly, I was
cringing... this was broadly a terrible night to get together, as I was in
the middle of a nasty project at work and it was distinctly possible I
would have to put in some extra time. But I wanted to make this work. So
I countered with a slightly later time than he proposed. I also noted
that one of my favorite neighborhood watering holes was just a couple of
blocks from my apartment. Parking was crazy, and he'd be better off
parking in a guest spot at my apartment, and we would walk over on foot.
He thought that sounded great.

I was, sadly, dead right about how my project was going, and realized I
was running late. I was able to call him and stall, telling him I'd be
about 15 minutes late. He agreed to hold tight.

Even so, I was later than that when I finally arrived. And even then I
wasn't done. After abjectly apologizing for my tardiness, I asked,
"Say... this sucks, but I'm going to have to review and send back one
last thing. Do you mind if we go up to my apartment? I can log on and
hopefully take care of it in like 5-10 minutes.  I'll happily let you
sample some of my special, premium rum I brought back from Central
America to get you started... I usually don't pull that out unless
you're getting married or you lose a family member!"

Craig chuckled good-naturedly. "Sounds good, take your time."

We went up and I ceremoniously poured him a drink. He gave it a chef's
kiss and remarked, "Man... this is the *good* stuff!"  I laughed and
warned him against drinking the whole bottle while my back was turned. I
quickly fired up my computer and took care of business, which took a bit
longer than I hoped, but finally was done.

I wandered back to him and said, "I'm so sorry... this has just been a
shit show. But I'm done. We could still head out... or I'm happy to pour
you another and we could hang out here."

Craig smiled warmly and responded, "No problem whatsoever, I know this
was last minute and all. Hey, I mean... I'm happy here if you just want
to kick back. I think you need some help with that rum. And whatever else
you've got stockpiled."  I laughed, and grabbed a glass, filled us both
up and suggested we plop down on the couch.

Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and seamlessly between
us, covering a huge range of topics. We commiserated, busted each
other's balls, dreamed out loud, and solved several of the world's
problems... all with the help of my best booze.

As it often goes, put a couple of guys together, and somehow the topic of
sex comes up. Mostly, the unending lament that we're not getting enough
of it. We bantered back and forth for some time, before Craig offered up,
"Yeah, well enjoy your time now. Once you walk down the aisle, you'll
never get a blow job again. I think it's part of the Official Wife
Contract."

I ribbed him just a little. "You can't tell me that a great looking guy
like you isn't getting *anything* like that... I mean, is she nuts?"

"Andy my man, I am lucky to get 10 minutes of missionary once in a blue
moon. She always has a headache, always is too tired, always has to take
care of the kids. I talked her into a blowjob for Valentine's Day, and
it was waaaaaaaay too much work for too small a reward. I mean, when we
actually do it, she likes it and its great and we feel so much closer. We
have this fantastic moment. And then it's just like in Bull Durham...
`moment's over.'"

I commiserated. "Yeah, I know. I mean, Carrie is a great girl. And sex
with her is great. But It's nowhere near as often as I'd like it. And
sometimes I feel like if I wasn't initiating, it wouldn't happen at
all."

"Damn, Andy, that sucks. And here I though my good looking, unmarried
friend was going to let me live vicariously through his sexcapades!  If
*you're* striking out, there's no hope for anyone. I guess I can see
why guys buy those sex toys you used to sell."

I laughed. "Seriously... I guess it serves me right for having laughed at
those poor jokers back in the day. Face it, guys just have a much higher
desire for sex than women. We're perpetually screwed, and not in a good
way. I guess the only other option to get what we need is to start
screwing each other!"

We both chuckled a bit at that, but the laughter slowly subsided, oddly
enough, into thoughtfulness. And then a thoughtful silence. I had been
looking away, but as silence crept into the conversation, I glanced back
at Craig. He was staring at me with... interest. We both looked down. I
took a healthy swig of my drink.  After a second I slowly looked back up
again, and saw he was doing the same.

Craig gave a low chuckle... it might have been nerves. But I had the
distinct feeling there was something on his mind. After a moment, he
tentatively floated, "So... I mean... have you ever... you know, with a
guy?"

"NO!" I jumped in, before he even finished. "I mean, no.  Never have.
No." I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, and saw he wordlessly
shook his head. We both stared ahead in silence. It was awkward... but the
idea, once mentioned, still hung in the air. I hesitantly put it into
words. "I guess the real question is... would you? Have you ever thought
about doing something with a guy?"

Craig took in a slow draw of breath, and finally said, "Well, no sense
in dancing around it. I think every guy has." He raised his eyes and
looked at me. I gave a nod with an embarrassed half-smile, which he
returned. "I thought as much. So `fess up. What would it take to get
you to cross over to the `dark side'?"

I chuckled, took a long sip of my drink, and leaned back. "Well, why
not? I'm buzzed as it is, and we're just thinking out loud here. Ok.
So... for starters, he'd have to be someone I trust. Someone I'm
completely comfortable with... a friend. I'd be way too weirded out to do
anything with a stranger. And I'd have to feel a connection to him, you
know? Otherwise, I'm not sure it would work... mechanically." Craig gave
a half-smile of his own, but let me go on. "But that's part of the
problem, you know? I could never in a million years *ask* another guy,
and certainly not a friend. I mean, unless you were damn sure he'd say
`yes,' there's a good chance you would torpedo the friendship... and
likely get your ass kicked. I don't know about your friends, but I
can't think of any of mine that would be up for anything."

There was a pause as we both contemplated my little monologue, and
neither of us was looking at the other.

"I'd be game," Craig murmured, barely audibly. He looked up at me and
we locked eyes.

Holy shit, I thought. I said nothing, but damn if my pulse didn't pick
up a bit. After a very long pause, I quietly ventured, "You... you'd be
up for that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. We stared at each other, and I imagine my expression
was just as intense as his. Was this even happening? Shit. Holy shit.

"What would you... we... do?"

"Give each other what we're not getting at home," Craig responded, in
a voice that he was trying to keep level, but was rippling with
adrenaline--or maybe testosterone. "Neither of us is getting blown...
maybe we could help each other out with that." I was getting a mighty
peculiar feeling in my stomach. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't all
jitters.

I sat back, looking ahead, and started running my hand over my mouth and
jaw. I mean, minutes ago I was being 100% truthful... I was wishing for a
lot more sex in my life than my girl was ever going to give me. And
consciously or not, when I explained who I'd ever do anything with, I
described Craig to a T. I was both excited and interested... but, holy
shit what was I thinking?! This was fucking insane. But the wrongness of
it was part of what was so arousing. Wrong. Dangerous. Forbidden. Shit.
And worse (or better...?), I was starting to feel it in my groin. The
tingling in my stomach had moved to my balls, and my dick was starting to
thicken. What the fuck was that?

"Cards on the table," Craig said finally. "I'm up for it. I've
thought about doing it, and... I've thought about... doing it with you. I
mean, we've become fast friends, but... I've felt a... connection with
you."

It wasn't just the words that did it for me. It was... *how* he said it.
There was something in his voice. Something in the intensity of his eyes.
Underneath his semi-casual demeanor, there was... appetite. *Real*
appetite. And honestly, more appetite than my girl usually showed. Craig
was likely still nervous as hell, but he *wanted* this. One of the
sexiest guys thought *I* was sexy, and I knew he *wanted* me.  In primal,
unmistakable terms. And my cock was responding.

"No one can know about this," I said. I was surprised how thick and
ragged my voice was--my body was telling me in no uncertain terms how
badly I wanted this, even if my mind was still processing things.

Craig wordlessly moved towards me on the couch, and with gentle
determination, put his right hand on my leg just above me knee, and then
pushed along my thigh toward my crotch. I gasped slightly, as nerves got
the better of me for a second. But as he moved, my body responded. In
seconds, my dick had rocketed to its full length, bulging in my work
pants. Craig saw it, and knew we were in for one hell of a ride. He
looked up at me and smiled, and I shot him back a testosterone-laden leer
of encouragement that would have made a battle-hardened whore blush.

Oh, we were on.

Craig slid over, and his strong hands moved from my thigh up to my
crotch. I was amazed at the feeling. His hands were... strong. Determined.
Confident. But they were... well, not "gentle," as they were too
masculine to be gentle. But maybe sensual? A knowing sensuality that
*knew* how to work a man. Knew the dance of lightness and pressure
instinctively, and far better than a woman did. He rubbed me through the
fabric of my pants and I realized this was going to be more intense than
I could have hoped. I could feel precum oozing out of my cock, as my dick
started screaming for more.

With little fanfare Craig undid my belt and fly and reached those
masculine hands in around me. His touch on my bare skin was electric and
I bark-hissed the word "YES!"

Craig looked at me with unalloyed lust. "You've got a big harry dick
there, bud. Let's see what he looks like."  He violently jerked my
pants away and pulled down my underwear, and slid my cock out. Seven and
a half inches long at its full throbbing length, cut, and somewhat thick.
It curved slightly toward my body. He stroked it with a featherweight
touch of his hands, sending a shiver across my whole body. "That is one
hot cock. A man's cock. I can't believe you don't see more action with
this monster. Big hairy balls, too. Fucking hot."

He gently stroked my cock head, smearing my precum across his finger and
then swirling it around the tip of my cock. I gurgled an unnatural sound
in gratitude. He pulled back his finger, and ran it across his tongue.
"You taste good man. But I need it from the source."

To my shock, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth, slurping his
tongue around the edge of my cockhead.

"YES! JUST LIKE THAT MAN! Fucking just like THAT!" He could have no
doubt about my gratitude now.

But what he did next really got me firing on all cylinders. He built up
some serious suction around my cock, and then drove, *drove* it down the
length of my shaft to my balls, rolling his tongue all the way. Holy.
Fuck. I gave out a cry that was part lust, part screaming joy... and part
a cry of rage about every grossly inadequate blow job I had ever
received. WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE ALL BEEN LIKE THIS?  What they say is
true--a man *does* know best how to pleasure another man. Right there, in
only a couple of minutes, Craig had given me the best blow job of my
life. And... this was just the beginning.  He kept going... sucking,
swirling, teasing. It was completely unexpected, on a higher level than I
could have thought. Again, I realized he *wanted* this. His enthusiasm
was even better than his technique. And his enthusiasm was infectious...
damn it, I needed to return the favor.

With *great* reluctance, I pulled his head up. "I need yours, too, bud.
Don't make a man beg."

"Ohhhh, fuck yeah, man!" Craig grinned broadly, and hoisted himself off
the couch so he was standing before me. With rapid movements, he undid
and dropped his pants, then underwear, and carefully stepped out of them.
He reached down with crossed his hands and pulled both his work shirt and
undershirt over his head in a single move....

Holy fuck.

I could already tell this guy was a paragon of masculine virility while
he was *wearing* clothes. *Without* them he moved into the category of a
god. His body was perfect, bristling with muscles that were both powerful
but natural. His chest was hairy, and a treasure trail led from his navel
to his hairy crotch. His cock was similar to mine--about the same length
but little less thick. While mine curved, his was straight as a steel
girder, and looked about as strong. Holy shit, it looked like Zeus
himself had come down from Olympus and was ready for a bout of sex
thunderous enough to be remembered in its own epic poem.

Craig chuckled, and quipped, "You just going to stare at it?"

I looked up, and half in awe, half in laughter responded, "Fucking-A,
man!" I reached over and grabbed his ass cheeks, and pulled him in.

My face immediately buried into his man-bush, and I breathed him in. It
was... surprising. I had always associated a specific smell with sex,
mostly coming from a woman's nether regions. I love eating women out--I
love eating them as much as they hate eating out guys--and that scent is
firmly implanted in my mind. But Craig blew those ideas away. There was
a... musky scent to him, deeply masculine, and also given extra spice by
his obvious excitement. It was raw, it was primal, and again...
*masculine*.

It was hotter than hell.

But that incredible dick was crying out for attention. I had never done
anything like this, but followed his lead, and acted out my long-standing
fantasies about what *I* would want done, *how* I'd want it done. First,
I gave a long, obscene lick that started at the base of his cock, and
languidly made my way up, causing his dick to twitch appreciatively all
the while. When I got to the top, I flicked his piss slit rapidly with my
tongue, and then started making slow, heavy rolls with my tongue around
his cock head. Craig growled happily, "Fuck man, I'm loving your
tongue"!

"Get ready bud!" I warned. I matched his earlier move, wrapping my lips
around my teeth, and drove down his shaft.

"Oh GOD yes!"

Reflexively, his beefy hands grabbed my head, but to my surprise he
didn't drive my head down, but just massaged me, reveling in the
sensations. It was... surprisingly intimate, and that intimacy added to my
own excitement. I kept driving down again and again, slowly fucking his
cock with my mouth. Feeling the muscles in his ass clench and release in
response while he let out a steady stream of deep, guttural groans. I
didn't realize how exciting this would be.

After a few minutes I pulled back and looked up at him. His face, flushed
with excitement was plastered over with the biggest grin I'd ever seen.
"Goddam, man, this is better than I could've hoped!"

I slowly jacked his sloppy, very attentive cock, and responded, "What
say we go to the bedroom and *really* get comfortable?"

Without a word Craig hoisted me to my feet. His eyes had a sparkle as he
held my gaze, then helped me pull off my clothes and threw them aside.
"Lead the way!"

We scrambled to the bed, and I all but threw him down to renew my
assault. I positioned myself at his side and started sliding my mouth
down his cock sideways while tickling under the balls with my fingers.
He squirmed some in excited response. I then took the opportunity to work
his balls over with my mouth, knowing how much I appreciated that feeling
myself. I took them in slowly, rolling them inside my mouth, then sucking
on them gently while my tongue danced around everywhere it could. Well,
*that* sure got him going. And... it was so incredible seeing his openly
enthusiastic, obviously joyous reaction. No guile, no fakery of any kind,
just... raw gratitude. He needed this, and clearly only another guy could
give it to him. I had kept jacking his spit-slick cock while doing so,
but many I wanted that bad boy back in my mouth. I dove down, perhaps too
ambitiously, and ended up gagging myself.

"You ok buddy?" Craig asked, coming out of his hormonal fog.

"Still learning. But man, I'm loving the practice!"

"Awww man... where have you *been* my whole life!" Craig enthused as he
lay his head back. His hands stroked my head and shoulders companionably.
He was relaxed, but I could feel the sexual ache infusing him.

Dammit, I was pretty hungry myself, and wanted to amp things up. I went
back to driving down his cock as far as I could swallow, and used one
hand to twist and stroke his cock to the base, while my other hand roved
across his chest until I could feel his nipple. His response, and
increasing rumbles of pleasure, told me he was more than enjoying
things... he was getting close.

"Oh man, Andy, you're going to have to slow down or I'm going to
shoot!"

I snarled out a response, "That's the fucking idea." And increased my
speed. Sucking him hard. Driving him. Driving me. Needing it.

"Oh God I'm gonna cum! I'm GONNA CUM! UUUNNNNGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I wasn't prepared for just how hard he was going to explode. The first
blast hit the back of my throat and I instinctively, desperately tried to
swallow. It kept gushing, a hot, salty taste unlike anything else. Him.
Craig's essence. The taste of raw sex. I had never been so satisfied at
bringing a partner off like that. There was so much of it--too much to
keep swallowing--and the excess blurped out of my mouth and ran down my
jaw.

Feeling overcome myself, I rolled over to lie flat on my back next to
him, my right hand still slowly jacking him as his body's spasms slowly
subsided.

"Holy... shit...!" Craig finally panted. "You... swallowed...!  You...
fucking... swallowed!"

"Guys have to take care of each other, right?"

Craig hoisted himself on his elbow, and reached over for my cock. Still
rock hard. "Oh.... I'll take care of you...!" I was fucking ready.

I don't know where Craig picked up his technique, but my God he gave me
a masterclass in cock sucking. He did everything, rapid-fire changes that
kept me guessing. Titillating with his tongue. Deep, wet dives of his
mouth. Rolling with his fingers. Fast, then slow. Every time I got close,
he pulled back, sending shockwaves and driving my hunger. I couldn't
take it. Frustration and desire battered with pleasure and animal
sensations. I.  Needed.  Release. But didn't want it to end. Finally, I
couldn't stop myself. I rolled over, grabbed his head and started
fucking his face as hard as I fucking could, pile-driving my own thrusts
to match his. Driving. Again and again. And again and again. Teeth
clenched, sweat in my eyes. Again and again and again. And finally with a
roar, I blasted out a gallon of spunk down his throat.

We collapsed, me on my back panting; Craig rolled over next to me on his
side, with his head nestled on shoulder just above my armpit. As I lay
there trying to catch my breath, I was... struck by the animal violence I
just unleashed on Craig's mouth, and was trying to mentally come to
terms with it. What was that? *Who* was that? I lost control... was he...
cool? Freaked?  I didn't even give him the *chance* to pull off me while
I came. This was all... waaaay beyond anything I'd done with a woman. It
was primal, brutish... and masculine. *Very* masculine. More masculine
than anything I'd experienced. Would Craig....

Before I could even finish my thought, Craig astonished me. He didn't
say a word, but just shifted his head slightly across my chest, and began
sucking my nipple. As violent as my face fucking was, this was... sensual.
Warm. And it felt gooooooood. "Mmmm. Man that feels nice," I said,
still in a hormonal haze.

Craig didn't respond, but kept working me, sliding his tongue across my
skin, playing with my chest hair with his fingers. It was... lazy, but
somehow still felt driven. He had already shot his load, but he was still
hungry and that hunger carried through. Still coming down from my own
high, I just melted into it... the feeling of his tongue, his hands.  He
lifted his head slightly and blew lightly across nipple, still wet with
his spit, which sent a shiver across my body. He slowly dragged his face
away, leaving a scratching sensation from the scruff on his jaw. Sliding
over, over....

And to my astonishment, started nuzzling my arm pit. I raised my head
slightly, to see him... breathing in my scent. Slowly. Deliberately. And
then, more forcefully... pushing his nose in among my hairy pit.
Exploring, and making a low rumbling moan as he did. He increased his
speed, running his face hard, with breath coming in gasps. Holy shit, he
was getting *in* to this. And then it wasn't just his nose that was
exploring me, it was his tongue, too. His tongue lapping at my pit.
Tasting me. Burning my essence into his mind. My initial curiosity
dissolved into... more primal feelings. Holy fuck. This was... erotic. It
didn't tickle, it was just... fucking erotic. My own moans started
matching his, giving a sound that could not be mistaken for anything but
sexual pleasure.

I saw him flick an eye toward me, and sensed I was all in. He made his
next move. Pulling himself away, he moved between my legs, kneeling. At
first, I was sure that he was going to start sucking me again...
surprisingly, since he had just gotten me off. Instead, he moved my still
somewhat hard dick away, and instead buried his nose in my bush. And
again, he inhaled. He kept going, rubbing his face all around my balls.
He licked them as he went, keeping me honest, but it was clear it was my
scent he was after. I was floored... it had been a full day, we had worked
up a sweat, there was cum and saliva... I mean, my girl Carrie would have
already yelled at me to get into the shower because I was nasty. But
Craig was... clearly living for this.

And he wasn't done. After several minutes, he lifted up my balls, and
started in on my taint. Of, if the earlier stuff had been erotic, this
was... fucking hot. I couldn't believe what he was doing. Scenting
himself. Licking me. Exploring part of me no one had ever explored
before... even me. My earlier moans shifted gears, becoming more focused:
"Fucking-A, Craig!  Holy shit!  Don't stop!" And he didn't stop,
driving up my temperature. Holy shit this guy knew how to play me.

Then he slid his hands under my hips and cantilevered my ass up and into
the air. Without a second glance, he drove his face into my hairy ass
crack and started huffing my ass-scent. Rubbing his face against that
most private of parts, his stubble setting my tender skin on fire. I
couldn't believe it. And never wanted it to stop. This was off the
charts. His face burrowed in, with his breath coming in gasps. I started
bucking against him, my mind fogging over with a flood of hormones.

And then I felt his tongue.

Ho.Ly. Fuck.

I blasted out roar of excitement. This was... off the charts. Something
beyond my fantasies, as I didn't even realize this was an option. He was
fucking eating my ass. With my hands I desperately tried to drive his
face deeper into my man trench, anything to amplify the feelings.  His
own hands tried to split me further apart to get better access. His
tongue dived deep into my hole, while his lips went after my pucker,
which was spasming wildly from the stimulation. He pulled back and gave
me hard rolling tongue action along the rim, and then lapping against me
like a dog taking water.

It was an important day in my life... the day I learned that my ass was
just as important a hot spot for me as my cock and balls were.

I don't know how long he led me on that thrill ride, but at some point
he added the use of his fingers, triggering a whole new round of intense
sensations.  His spit-slicked fingers functioned as another tongue, and
probed me. Primed me for wanting more. Wanting *a lot* more. Wanting
everything.

I think I realized where Craig was headed, but any doubts were blown away
when he repositioned himself, and started running his rock-hard cock up
and down my spit-slick ass crack. Teasing me. But I suppose giving me one
last chance to beg off if I wanted to.

No fucking way.

We locked eyes, and I gave a curt nod. I wanted this as much as he did.

Craig hacked up more spit from his throat, and spat it into his hand.
Slowly, determinedly, he greased up his dick, already slick from precum
oozing out the tip. He repeated the action, and then put his dickhead
against my hole. He pushed. Pushed some more. And with a wet "pop," he
was in.

"STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!" I belted out.

He stopped. "You ok?" he asked, concern on his face.

"Just... damn you're big. Give me a second. Don't move."

"Breathe, Andy. Just breathe. You're doing fine."

I didn't think I was going to be fine. But after a few minutes, I could
feel myself relaxing. Craig was with me all the way. Slowly, he started
sliding in, and then pulling out, letting me get used to the sensations.
It felt... so unnatural. But in time, I was realizing that was what was so
incredible about it. It was unlike anything I'd experienced. Sparking
lighting across areas I never knew were so wonderfully sensitive. He
triggered a spot deep inside me, and everything started coming together.

I don't know how to describe the sensations. As I got into it, Craig
*really* started getting into it, thrusting deep and hard inside me. It
was like each thrust cranked up the volume a bit more, and soon it was
like my whole body was on fire. My skin bristling with lightning. Like I
was on the verge of cumming, but instead of shooting, the sensations kept
building. It was so intense, and I was feeling such a sharp feeling of
raw animal lust for him. It was like I was becoming Hulk, bursting out of
the body of Dr. Banner. Hunger. Hunger. HUNGER. And Craig responded with
even more hunger, engulfing me with it.

And it was so... unlike any sex I'd had with a woman. I keep using the
word, but there's no other way to describe it: it was masculine. Like the
energy of a group of competitive guys playing ball, but in sexual form.
We were aggressive, almost combative, sweaty, loud, and hugely athletic
as we drove our bodies on. He fucking *pounded* me, with his sweat
running down his forehead, and splashing onto my writhing body. Instinct
took over. I was bucking hard against him, driving his dick in as hard as
he was driving into me. Meeting him stroke for stroke. Together, we were
creating more friction. More power. More thrust. We couldn't last long.

And then, his animal passion finally brought me to the edge. I could feel
it, growing like an ocean roar. An electrical surge out of control.
"Ungh, ungh, UNGH, UNGH!... GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Without even touching
my dick I blasted out cum like I was a water cannon. Had Craig not been
over me I'm sure I would have splattered the ceiling. As I exploded, my
ass clamped down *hard* on his cock, which drove him over the edge too.
We shuddered in sexual release together, feeling each other in the core
of our being, consumed by our own fire.

We collapsed next to each other, too stunned to do anything but pant out
our breaths. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and my mind
was whirling... too raw to focus on anything. It was only after a long
time--long enough that I wondered if one or the other of us had blacked
out--that we finally broke the silence.

"Holy shit." I finally hissed between my teeth. That about summed
everything up.

"That was... wild," Craig finally responded.  Well, *that* was an
understatement. "You doing ok over there?"

"My heart feels like its pounding hard enough to.... I don't know."
That was it... that was as eloquent, as profound as I could be. "I'm
probably not going to walk straight for a week, but... holy shit. You had
me lit up like a pinball machine. I've never felt anything like it."

Craig gave an exhausted chuckle. "It was... wild."

I rolled slightly to my side. "I can't believe you were, like...
*smelling* me like that. I'm sorry, man. It's been a long day, and you
were getting all my... worst zones. Sorry, man. I had to have been pretty
ripe."

Craig looked up at me, and responded more forcefully than I expected.
"No. NO!  Man, it was *not* a problem. It was... ... ...it was fucking
hot." He laid back again. "You don't understand. It's just that,
well, my wife is a fucking neat freak, especially after having the kids.
*Especially* around sex. I have to shower first, or she won't touch me.
And she insists on me "cleaning up" before we go to bed. It's crazy.
And... well, I live in a house where it's only tea parties, rainbows, and
unicorns. I mean, your scent was so... fucking primal. Manly. Men. In
their rawest. It's weird, but I was finally *a guy* again, *with* a
guy... a *real* fucking guy."

I looked at him, chuckled, and said "You're crazy, man."

He only grumbled, "Don't knock it `til you try it."  After another
pause, he sat up again, sliding his hands though the cum running down his
chest. "Well. Speaking of smells... I reek, and that won't fly at home.
You mind if I use your shower...?"

"No, you're good. Grab a towel from the cabinet on the left."

Craig hoisted himself to sit upright, and reached over and patted my
chest. He then got up and wordlessly padded toward the bathroom. In doing
so, I finally got a perfect, unobstructed view of his ass. The
motherfucking motherload of all assdom everywhere. Holy shit. His
asscheeks were maybe a bit smoother than mine, but with a heavier dusting
of hair on the bottom, especially around his hole. Muscular. Thick.
Powerful.  As he moved, my mouth got dry. My mind raced. That butt was
sexy as hell, and I realized I hadn't even gotten a chance to explore
it. Damn, and double damn.

But what the hell? What was I thinking? Why was I starting to get an
all-new hard-on, thinking about a guy's butt?  But there it was. I had
just shot out two of the biggest loads of my life, and I was *still*
fucking getting aroused by... a guy's butt. *This* guy's butt.

As Craig washed up, I wandered out to the living room, to gather up my
clothes. As I was getting dressed, I saw Craig's underwear... and my mind
flashed to what he had just said. About man scents making him feel like a
man. About not knocking it until I've tried it. I brought his Jockey
shorts to my face, and breathed in. Deeply.

Fuck.

He was right. That initial feeling that came over me the first time my
face was in his bush returned. Fucking masculine. Raw. Animal. It was
ringing bells somewhere deep down in my psyche. I was learning something
about myself I never knew before. And I really didn't know what to make
of it.

Craig came out, toweling himself off. He looked at me and smirked, and I
grinned back at him and handed him his underwear. He got dressed, and
there was a... silence as we did so. I had no idea what to say, and I
guess Craig didn't either. Only when he was done dressing did he finally
say anything. "Thanks man, this was great. I mean that... this was great.
It was... on a whole other level. We, uh... still friends?"

I smiled. Openly, gratefully, honestly. "Yeah. Sorry. My mind's a blur.
But that was... amazing." He returned my smile, and we went in for the
"guy hug"--a bit of a bear hug with two slaps of the back.

"I'll call you." He said as he left.

And with that, I was alone. With a whole lot of things to think about.


* * *


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