Playing With Fire - Sex Stories

Playing With Fire

... was headed in. Sitting on the shore, I watched Steve catch his last of the day, and he rode it all the way in. He ripped off the ankle leash and dropped the board in the sand, and plopped down beside me. "Thanks for the use of your board, man. I'm stoked." "How about that beer now?" I said, wrapping my leash around my skeg. "Awesome! Where to?" "Straight ahead. The grey-blue building." "Damn, those are some nice digs!" "Thanks, I built it myself, but it's getting old now and I have tons of repairs. The enclosed lower deck has a shower, board racks, and some dry board shorts." I held the door open for Steve, because the spring-loaded latch is tricky, and it can slam shut. Anne would never let me hear the end of it if her potential lover was injured walking into the house. I took his board and hung it in the rack along with mine. "Fuck! This room is bigger than my whole damn apartment," he stated, while unzipping his wetsuit and hanging it on the hook. I turned on the showers and adjusted the temperature, while Steve stripped off his board shorts. Now, I try not to stare at another guy's equipment, but that piece of sausage hanging between his legs made my seven-and-a-half inches look like a cocktail weenie. I guess I was so amazed, I was staring. "Ten!" he said. "I beg your pardon," I said, trying to pretend I hadn't noticed. "Ten inches erect," he replied, shaking it like a snake. "When God gave out cocks, you must have gone through the line twice," I laughed, and threw him ...

... a towel. Then I added, "Shorts and shirts are in the cabinet. Come into the den when you get dressed. I'll put on the game and start the grill." "Awesome, dude. I'll be right in." I turned on the indoor grill and was brushing the grates when Steve came in. He walked around looking at the house, peeking into the different rooms, but I sensed he was really looking for Anne. He plopped himself down in my recliner, and started watching the game. I don't think he had a clue how fortunate he was. I mean, he was getting a BBQ ribeye steak with all the fixens, my best beer, sitting in my favorite recliner, and was going to have my hot wife to use. "Hey, you wanna beer?" I asked. "Sure, that's awesome. What kind?" "You have several to choose from. I have Dos Equis and Samuel Adams on tap, Fosters, Miller Light and Bud in the bottle." "Damn, dude! You've got quite a setup here. I'll have a... Sams." After I finished pouring him the beer, I heard Anne coming through the door. She had a bag of groceries, and was cursing at the door closing on her. Steve went scrambling to help her. "Thank-you, Steve. You're a gentleman, unlike some people around here! Alan, when are you going to fix this fucking door? It's gonna kill me some day. Here's the groceries you asked for. I also got some dip. I'm going up to change. You guys play nice." With that, she scurried up the stairs. We both watched her disappear into the bedroom. "Man, you've got it all. A fine big home, awesome cars, and the hottest ...