Right - Sex Stories

Right

... address. And continued to quietly wonder. I walked into the apartment late the next night, and heard some distinct noises down the hall. I halted in my entryway, closed the door quietly, and listened. It was the telltale sound of a male a****l nearing an orgasm, grumbling half-intelligible obscenities, grunting, panting with a subtly rising tonality in his vocal gymnastics. And I swear that my hand went right to my own eagerly rising cock from the very raw ummph of his orgasm’s eruption. Jesus, it stirred me up to hear that, in ways that surprised me. It was late. I didn’t know him. I wasn’t going there. But part of me at least acknowledged to myself that I wanted to go there. I wanted to walk in and smirk at him and say “You couldn’t have waited for me?” He probably would have laughed along with me, then offered to swallow my cock so that I could catch up cum-wise. I know that now. If I’d known that then…. Next morning over coffee, he muttered from under his ruffled mane, “Fucking nice writing you do.” I knew he was no pushover in the intellect department and I thanked him appropriately for his fine compliment. “Are you into all that, or is it more fantasy?” he asked. Then he waited a tick before adding, “I do a little writing of a different kind. I know some is real, some is not. Some desire is only for fantasy, some for real.” It was a pleasure talking with someone who understood. No lengthy explanations necessary. I spilled the beans that I was comfortable spilling, ...

... even about some of my bi play desires, and alluded to the misfires that I experienced with my former muse on the subject. He didn’t say much. He seemed lost in the fog of the morning and in the dark brew before him. “Well, I have to say, it made me cum big time last night, and I so fucking needed that. I lived like a saint on that last project. I just had no time for play.” I wanted to say more than “Happy to oblige.” I wanted to tell him how intensely erotic his explosion sounded to me. How it made me masturbate with my pillow as a gag. I ended up smiling through my own fog and saying, “Glad I could be of service.” But even that sounded like a come-on, and I never meant it to be. As we waded through the surprisingly porn-peppered, waking conversation, he asked me more directly about my experiences with guys. After all, I’d opened that door already. I told him in more detail about Lisa getting me started, and our time searching for the right guy to share with her. And how a couple of them were interesting, but not so much into what we really wanted to do or even try. “It hasn’t really worked in reality…yet” - I let that hover in the morning air, for us both, really -”but with the right guy, I think it might.” “Yeah”, he chimed in, “I’ve had that problem. I like the idea. Even had a couple of decent experiences with guys. But I guess I’m too fucking picky for my own good” Suddenly, I laughed and he followed. We were semi-mirrors of each other in more ways than I ever expected. I ...