Male Bonding, part 1. by bijaybi@outlook.com
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Any comments will be gladly received at bijaybi@outlook.com
Note: Although elements are based on real experiences, any resemblance to real people or locations is strictly coincidental. This story contains explicit male-male and male-female consensual, adult sex. If you don't enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21 or it is not legal to read this sort of material where you live, PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING. Please practice safer sex.
I have been enjoying erotic stories on Nifty.org for a couple of years now, and have decided it's time to "give back" by attempting to write some of my own stories. I've been fortunate to have a lot of adventures over the years, so at least to start with, I'm going to share my own experiences, based on actual events, and only fictionalize some details to avoid identifying real people or places. My first attempt, Hot Spring Surprise, can be found in the Bisexual/Encounters archive. Here's another one. I'm going to tell you the first part of the story here, and work on the rest another day.
Guys will be guys. Men are pigs. Whether it's for dick or for pussy, all of us guys are hunters. So why wouldn't a straight guy get along with a bi/gay guy, in this more enlightened era? Whatever the reason, I've been unusually lucky to have a lot of flirty, open-minded straight guys as colleagues and friends over the years at my company. Maybe it's the creative atmosphere, maybe it's the fact that I'm a laid back and regular guy, but I have had a LOT of sexy banter and situations with a lot of these dudes. Usually when it's just 1 on 1 and they don't have to worry about what the other guys are going to think.
Sometimes it's just dirty talk and that locker-room kind of banter. My coworker Henry was notorious for that. Straight, married, handsome bald guy with a red beard and a ridiculously huge bulge in his jeans, Henry was young father of 2 kids, but liked to joke around in a very bi way. Like if he saw one of the other handsome guys in our department leaning over his desk, Henry would sometimes walk up behind the guy and grab him around the waist and pretend to butt-fuck him. I was always surprised how much the "bottom" guys would like it and laugh, and how no one seemed to comment on Henry's package getting even bigger.
Sometimes the banter would go just a little bit further. One totally studly, solid guy, John, was one of those hot, black-haired, green-eyed Irish-American dudes who enjoys attention no matter who it comes from. He would constantly flirt with both me and our friend Sofia, a beautiful Italian woman, to the point that our other colleagues would tell us to "get a room already." I'd constantly stare at his muscular bubble butt and his well-filled package, and he'd just smile and let me keep on looking. I think his uncle was gay and owned a bar somewhere, so John seemed to have grown up around gay and bisexual guys and was really comfortable.
But, I don't know that many straight guys who would do things like John did. One day we were in the hallway without anyone else around. I told him I liked his pants, and asked what kind they were. He couldn't remember the brand name and we looked for a label on the back pocket but there wasn't one.
So he says, "Here, see if you can find a label inside," and proceeds to let me put my hand down the back of his pants. I couldn't feel a label, but I could feel that he was going commando, by the fact that thick, coarse ass hair was rubbing against my hand.
He laughed and said, "Maybe it's in the front," and guided my forearm around to the inside of the front of his pants. I totally forgot that I was supposedly looking for a label, because instead I was feeling this straight dude's dick getting semi-hard while I was moving my hand around inside his pants, all the while thinking, what if someone walks out into this hallway?
John seemed to suddenly realize the same because he abruptly said, "Oh, well, I guess there's no label" and backed up to get my hand out of there.
I had a crush on John for years, but never got the chance to go further than feeling his ass and dick.
I did, however, get further with another major straight guy crush, Randy. Randy was ridiculously hot, built like a linebacker but with the chin-dimpled, square- jawed, steel-blue-eyed face and deep masculine voice of a state trooper or military cop. He was one of the more typically manly, football-loving, guy's guy type of men in the office, but then he'd surprise me.
One day I was walking past Randy's desk and saw him eat a few pieces from a pile of blue candy.
I jokingly said, "I thought for a second that was a pile of Viagra."
He shocked me by standing up, towering over me with his stocky, 6'3" frame, and put his face really close to mine. He quietly said in his deep, sexy drawl, "If that was a pile of Viagra you'd know it, 'cause my hard-on would be so huge I'd knock you over with it."
He laughed quietly to himself while I got all flustered and walked away, so turned on I had to go take care of myself in the men's room.
A couple months later, a fuck buddy had given me some of those little blue pills, and I decided to leave one in an envelope for Randy, with a note saying, "I hope you tire your wife out." After the weekend, I asked Randy if he had tried it out and he said, "Yeah, fucking wives. I took one and was going to surprise Jane with how long I could last, but then she decided she was too tired 'cause our kid kept her up all night. Damn it. There I am with the hardest I've ever been and I'm just jacking it to porn and can't get it to go down until I shot 3 times. Thanks a lot."
I laughed and said, "Anytime, you should have called me." He seemed a bit offended so I dropped it.
But then, I happened to be joking around with Randy and a few other guys one day and mentioned that I had never been to a female strip club, I had only seen male strippers. I asked if we could get a group together to go to a strip club sometime, but everyone had an excuse -- "My girlfriend won't let me," or "I'm not really into those skanks," etc.
Except Randy said, "Dude, I fucking love strip clubs, they usually think I'm a cop but once I prove that I'm not, it's so fuckin' fun. Sure, I'll take you to the all- nude one, give you some education."
The next Friday night, I showed up at Randy & Jane's nice suburban ranch house, and Jane answered the door with their one-year-old boy in her arms. She surprised me by saying, "I am so jealous, I wish I could go with you guys. I've always wanted to go to a strip club, but Randy has never taken me. I gotta stay home with the kid, you guys have a good time."
We had one beer with Jane and then hit the road for the club, which was in a small town about an hour away on all winding country highways. Weird place for an all-nude club, but Randy explained that the blue laws in that county were a lot less strict than in our town, so this club was his favorite. Driving there, he was telling me stuff like, "OK don't tell Jane but the reason I won't take her to a strip club is that sometimes they ask me to prove that I'm not a cop with the 'cop test' where I have to touch them first. I like to go out of my way and really touch 'em, like, get a couple of these nice fat fingers into their snatch, and next thing you know, I get an extra special VIP treatment in the private dance area."
I was surprised by how nice the club was, very clean, more like a nice dance club, and how many couples there were mixed in with the guys in the crowd. And then I was even more surprised by how pretty the majority of the dancers were. I expected a kind of skankier looking bunch. Randy really seemed to want to introduce me to this "guy's guy" scene and bought us a lot of drinks, kept tipping the girls a lot so we could mostly sit at the bar-rail right on the edge of the stage, where the dancers would come and interact with you, wrap their legs around your head, let you put your bills into the straps of their g-strings and then push the cloth aside to give you a close-up view of their pussy. I'd occasionally sneak a look at Randy's crotch when a particularly hot dancer was giving him a longer one-on-one show, enjoying the view of his obviously long and thick baton going down the leg of his jeans.
Eventually, when we were at a little table near the stage, about 12 of the dancers walked out into the crowd and an announcer said, "Time for some private dances, gentlemen, pick your girl and she'll take you back to the lounge."
Randy locked his eyes on the one that I had told him I thought was the prettiest, and she came over. He handed her some bills and she grabbed my hand to get up and go to the back lounge with her. I was kind of nervous, not really sure what went on back there, or what I would or would not be allowed to do. The dancer was slim and petite, with dark caramel skin and long dark brown hair, and really glossy dark red lips.
Once we got into the curtained off kind of "cubicle" in the dimly lit lounge, she explained that I could touch her anywhere if she put my hands there first, and that I should let her know how many songs she should keep going for because Randy had paid her for 2 songs. I said, "We'll see," and enjoyed the show as she started to sensually gyrate all over, around, and on top of me. She felt so silky smooth and smelled great, and I found myself getting harder and harder as she swiveled her talented, juicy ass against my crotch. She'd teasingly bring her swinging, full breasts up to my face and a nipple just within reach of my mouth, and then maneuver herself away. At some point, she was straddling my lap facing away from me, and managed to unbutton my shirt just by grinding her ass against my stomach. I was getting close to blowing a load in my pants, when I realized that we'd already gone over by a couple of songs and I didn't have much cash in my pocket, so I went back to join Randy at the table. He was all smiles when I told him that I appreciated the gift, and how she had almost gotten me to come. "Sweet, dude, that's the best, when they edge you like that. I gotta try that one out."
Unfortunately, while I was gone, apparently Randy had gotten into a little bit of an argument with one of the cocktail waitresses. He was pretty tipsy by then and getting a little loud, and I guess she didn't appreciate his attitude. When he disappeared into the private dance lounge with the same pretty dancer I'd just had, this waitress told me, "Your friend thinks he's really hot shit, and I'm sick of his cocky attitude." I was like, "I don't know what you're talking about," but she seemed bent on getting us kicked out. Randy was gone for about 4 songs, and I was enjoying thinking about that hot dancer grinding against his football player/military cop body. But suddenly, he was being walked toward our table by a manager, and he said, "Let's get out of here, dude, I don't need any trouble," so we grabbed our coats and left.
"Shit, dude, that dancer was so fucking hot and she was just about to go down on me, too," Randy complained when I got behind the wheel of the car and started to head us back to the city.
"What?!" I asked. "She wasn't going that far with me," I said.
Randy replied, "Hey I told you, I got some kinda look and touch that these ladies like," with an arrogant, cocky swagger to his voice, just a little bit slurred from too many beers.
I hesitated to remind him that he was probably just tipping them a lot more generously than some guys, and let him keep going. As we got out into the very dark, winding country roads, passing nothing but farms and signs for small towns, Randy was sounding kind of tired and pissed that he didn't get off.
"Fuck, dude, now it's back to the wife, who's probably gonna refuse to put out tonight again just because she's jealous that we didn't take her to the club, too," he slurred.
I noticed that he had been absent-mindedly rubbing at his bulging jeans for a while now, and the familiar outline of his anaconda was going down the right pants leg.
Not sure how I got the courage up, but I said, "Dude, I'd like to thank you for bringing me to that club, not a lot of straight guys would take a mostly gay guy under their wing like that."
He laughed and said, "You're right, but it was awesome to show you a good time and help you get more of an anatomy lesson. I remember you telling Ryan and me about you and your partner getting together with some male-female couples and how clueless you were the first time you ate pussy." (Ryan is the Dolph Lundgren-like blond manager that you'll meet in part 2.)
I laughed and said, "Well, I'm definitely not clueless at eating dick, and I'll be glad to show you right now, if we pull over near that barn."
I was expecting him to just laugh and punch me in the arm, but he drunkenly said, "Serious? I really gotta blow a load, man, and I always wondered what it was like from a guy."
What the hell, truth serum, or something... I wasn't about to let the opportunity pass, even though I was a little worried that he would suddenly panic and that would be the end of our good work friendship.
So I pulled the car in to the driveway of a dark, seemingly unoccupied farm and parked next to a barn, away from the view of the highway and the farmhouse. Everyone better be fast asleep, I thought, or there could be trouble explaining.
I asked Randy, "Are you sure about this?" and he just grunted, "Dude, I gotta get off, I might as well be shooting my load up your cocksucking mouth since I got pulled away from that hot bitch back there," while fumblingly unbuckling his belt.
I reached down and pulled a handle to push his seat back as far as it would go, and told him how to get the seat back to lay more flat. I was salivating at the idea of sucking off this hot young DILF that I had been lusting over for awhile, but I wasn't prepared for what a fucking beautiful cock bounced straight up out of his jeans once he got them unbuttoned and scooted down around his thighs. A little bit of a musky man smell hit my nostrils as I reached over and firmly grasped around the thick shaft, just below the head, and admiringly said, "Fuck, it's like a Coke can, dude. I wasn't expecting that."
He laughed and said, "Yeah, maybe that's why the wife doesn't give it up that often, she always says it hurts. It's a little better now that she had our kid, but still, it's a tight fit."
I stroked the entire 9-10 inches of hard, thick meat and couldn't believe I was going to get to lick and suck it. My mouth was watering and I was kind of mesmerized trying to wrap my hand around his dick, when he coughed and said, "Dude, we don't have all night, get your fucking mouth on my cock now!"
That surly order made my rock-hard cock jump in my still-buttoned jeans, and I leaned over the center console to bring my lips up to Randy's massive sausage. I licked the underside from the base of his shaft all the way to the big, heavy head, savoring the taste of straight man dick, a little raunchy from sweating in his pants all night. Soon I had Randy groaning and sucking in his breath as I used all of my expert cocksucking skills on servicing this giant dick. I've always been better at sucking and deep throating a huge, thick cock than I am at an average one, I'm not sure why. Motivated, I guess, an animal lust takes over me and I can't seem to stop slurping, sucking, licking, teasing with my tongue, lips and hands.
I was also trying to prove to this DILF that men are indeed better at dick sucking than our female counterparts, and from the way Randy was groaning and bucking his hips, petting my head and shoulders with his meaty hands, and saying things like, "Damn, Jay, why did it take me this long to fuck a dude's mouth, you're like a vacuum pump, you horny little faggot," and "You're gonna be on your knees in the utility closet at work a lot, buddy, now that I know you can take my dick and suck it so good. I should pimp you out to the other guys, make you get on your knees in the lunchroom after hours, surrounded by a bunch of us real men and see if you can tell who's fucked a juicy cunt since the last time they showered. Wait til Henry gets a shot at your mouth, Jay, you know he's been telling the rest of us that he's gonna rape your fagboy mouth and ass one of these days. And if you think I'm big, I bet he's even bigger. I saw him changing after that bike race we did last summer, and I never saw a white guy like that. Damn, man, you're gonna make me spray this big load all over your face and down your throat if you keep that up."
Of course, I wanted that hot cream all over me, I'd totally get off on driving home with my face soaked and his cum drying in my mustache and beard, and dropping him off to his unsuspecting wife and kid. So I kept up my expert sucking. I got one of my middle fingers really wet with spit, and without warning Randy at all, I let my hand slip from around his big sack and after only a couple seconds of teasing his hot hole with my wet fingertip, I shoved it up into his tight straight boy ass. He let out a surprised yelp but it totally put him over the edge, and a few seconds later, my face was getting coated with one powerful shot of hot white cream after another.
Randy fell asleep for the rest of the ride back to his house, and when I woke him up to drop him off, he gave me a cute, sleepy, "shhh" gesture with his finger to his lips, and said, "I hope you liked your first strip club, dude."
So that's it for part 1. I hope you like it, and I'd love to hear any good comments - bijaybi@outlook.com. I'll save some more of my dirty coworker stories for part 2. Henry will make another appearance, along with my many misadventures with my most long-term straight guy crush, Ryan.