The Groom-to-be and Me

I answered the classified ad with trepidation. I was married, everyone assumed I had the perfect life and here I was answering an ad from a guy looking to have sex with "bi-curious" men. In the letter to the blind box address I accurately described myself as 6Õ 1", with brown hair, brown eyes, a swimmerÕs build and a great tan � except for my brilliant white ass which was always protected by a Speedo. I drove to the Post Office and was literally shaking as I dropped the letter in the mail chute.

A couple weeks later an envelope with no return address appeared in my post office box. I quickly tore open the flap and a color photograph dropped into my lap. The guy in the picture had striking dark features Ã? and an unbelievable body. From what little he was wearing it appeared as if he were a professional dancer. The enclosed letter explained he owned a fitness club and spent a great deal of his time teaching aerobics. He had always known he was attracted to guys. However, being from one of the wealthiest and most socially prominent families in town did not give him the option of being openly gay. In fact, he was marrying into one of the other "better" families in town the following month.

I could relate to his message. I had also forced all thoughts of possibly being gay into the farthest recesses of my mind. I knew my family would never accept that I could be gay and most likely I would be disowned. That was the last thing I had wanted. Instead, I married my college sweetheart. Although I really did love her, the desire to be with another man was overpowering.
Feeling almost sick to my stomach, I called the phone number in the letter when I got home. My voice cracked as I asked for "Michael." The masculine response on the other end of the line was: "Speaking."

After explaining who I was, and some idle chit-chat, he suggested I come by his gym two mornings later. He said it would not seem unusual to his employees to have someone stop by to visit him at work. I could be an old friend or possibly a new client for his sideline as a personal trainer. He told me that if I were wearing gym clothes I would fit right in.

Two days later I kissed my wife goodbye as she went off to work and I headed for the shower to relax. I was incredibly nervous. As the hot water cascaded down my torso I caught myself running my hands over my chest, stomach and down to my crotch. My cock was twitching with anticipation of what might happen later that morning. I stroked myself, bringing myself to the verge of an explosive orgasm. I suddenly stopped, rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. My prick remained rock hard as I toweled the excess water from my skin.

I caught a glimpse of myself in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I had to admit I looked pretty good. The sharp lines of my summer tanning focused all attention on the smooth white globes of my bubble-butt. I turned around and noticed the V-shape of my chest directed my eyes immediately down to my still-engorged cock. The red of the fleshy pole and my dark, trimmed public hair stood out against the pale vee of my crotch.
I stepped into a black jockstrap and had to pack my cock into the front pouch. A pair of tight yellow Dolphin running shorts were pulled up over the jock, presenting an inviting package from the front or back. I pulled one of my old fraternity T-shirts over my still wet hair and I was ready to go.

After about a ten-minute drive I arrived at MichaelÕs fitness center. The sound of the latest aerobic music and the clanging of weights mixed with the unmistakable aroma of male sweat. A couple of women walked by in their workout gear, looking me up and down as I neared the front counter. The young guy at the desk did the same as I asked for Michael.

From a doorway to the left came an amazing man. His dark tan and black hair made his beautiful smile seem brilliant white. He stuck out his hand to grab mine and gave me a strong firm shake. He was obviously pleased at what he saw as he rounded the counter to join me Ã? and so was I.

"Tony, my friend Jeff and I are going to go look at that site IÕm considering for the new gym. If Tina calls tell her IÕll be back in a couple hours."

The kid behind the desk smiled knowingly as he answered, "Sure, Mike."

We got into his BMW and his hand immediately started rubbing my leg. The mound in my shorts started pushing the fabric to its limits and this didnÕt go unnoticed by my new friend.

Michael pulled out of the parking lot and hit the highway. His hand never left my body. No words were exchanged as we drove through a business district and into an upper-class residential neighborhood. The homes got bigger and more secluded as we went up into the hills. Finally, he pulled into the driveway of a massive Tudor home and stopped. As we got out of the car he explained this was his parentÕs home and they were away in Palm Springs.

The home was incredible. I followed Michael through a huge living room, not taking my eyes off his ass, as he wandered to the oak-paneled bar.

"If you are a nervous as me, I think we both need a drink. IÕll fix us both a bourbon, if thatÕs OK with you, " said Michael.

I kind of grunted in agreement, afraid my voice would squeak if I spoke. I did notice both of our hands shaking as he handed the Waterford tumbler to me.

We sat at the bar sipping our drinks and discussing the predicament in which we found our selves. Both of us were almost to the point of being able to acknowledge we were gay and yet our lives were not in our control. Michael admitted he knew he shouldnÕt be getting married the next month but his life was running away from him like a runaway train at this point.

Suddenly, he leaned over and kissed me. It was a rough, alcohol-laden, manly kiss. Every part of my body, except my hardening cock, went limp as our bodies came together. I couldnÕt believe how incredibly masculine this all felt. I was actually making out with a very hunky man. My hands roamed all over his body, taking in every hard muscle. I lowered them down to his ass, as our faces ground into each other, and could feel the sweat and heat of his crack. One of his hands went up the leg of my shorts and found my hard manmeat trying to break free from the jock. He pulled his face off of mine and pulling me by the filled pouch of my jock began directing me toward the over-sized sofa. Expecting to fall back onto the plush couch, I was surprised when Michael laid me back onto the large glass coffee table.

My shirt was pulled up over my head and the cold glass of the table almost felt refreshing as I was slowly lowered to it. I saw my shoes go flying toward the fireplace as my ass was lifted into the air and the shorts were pulled off my body. Michael stood over me with an almost evil grin as he gazed down on my nearly nude body. He slowly got down on his knees at the end of the table and brought his face down onto the pouch of my athletic supporter. I gasped as his tongue grazed the tip of my cock, which was sticking up beyond the waistband of my undergear. With his teeth Michael began to lower the pouch down the length of my shaft, stopping to nibble and lick all along the way. All I could do was hold on to his head as he munched on my crotch.
With the fabric pouch down around my ball sac, Michael raised himself up a bit and lifted my legs into the air. His tongue found the sensitive skin right where the jockÕs straps met and he spent a great deal of time working it back and forth. Then to my amazement, I began to feel something fluttering around my asshole. Michael was teasing the ring of my hole with flickers from his tongue. I automatically found myself trying to push my ass closer to his face. He then began to dive into my butthole, like a man starving for ass. IÕd never felt anything like it in my life. One of his hands grabbed my hard dick and started pounding it. I finally had to push his head and hand away to avoid blasting too soon.

He came up for air and a kiss. The kiss tasted musky and manly. His body felt like heaven on top of mine. For a moment I was terrified we might break the table. Yet, MichaelÕs lack of concern calmed my fears. He rotated his body around until his dripping meat was right above my face. As I tried to lick the drop of glistening pre-cum from its tip he pulled away and laughed. After several moments of teasing me he allowed his 9-incher to come within range of my thirsty mouth. I sucked as much into my mouth as I could, while he did the same to me. We became lost in flesh, sweat, grunts, moans and pleasure. A finger slid into my ass and all I could focus on was the circular motion it was making inside of me.

Totally relaxed and wet with perspiration we seemed to enjoy each other for an endless period of time. Michael rolled off me and onto the floor. He slid under the coffee table and I twisted onto my stomach to see where he had gone. Beneath me he was smiling and stroking himself. He lifted his head to the glass as I lowered mine and we kissed with the thick clear surface between us. I raised up onto my knees and started jerking off to the same rhythm. Our eyes were locked to each other as we each enjoyed the self-pleasure the other was experiencing.
I lowered my body to the tabletop, wet with body juices, and started to hump the glass. Michael scooted out from under the table and positioned himself behind me. Once again, his face was buried in my ass as his tongue fucked my hot opening. I felt him reposition his body and in one strong, swift movement he was inside of me - all the way inside of me.

For a few moments I was gasping for breath. Michael remained unmoving. I could feel the wiry hairs around his balls against the lips of my ass. Slowly he began to slide in and out of me. All I could think of was the mantra of the childrenÕs story "The Little Engine That Could": " I think I can, I think I canÉ" He increase the tempo just like in the story until he was pounding in and out of my ass.

Suddenly we both kind of jumped as we heard the front door of his parentÕs house slam shut. No matter who it was, we were too far into what we were doing to stop � and Michael again picked up the speed of his animal-like humping of my butt. Even the scream, the blood-curdling scream of the family maid as she walked into the living room, was not enough to make us quit. Sweat was pouring off the two of us, lost in our fucking, as the maid ran from the house crossing herself and cursing in Spanish.

As the door slammed again Michael let out a howl and plunged into me so hard I almost slid off the table. He continued plugging me as I began to shoot off onto the glass beneath me Ã? without even touching myself. Michael slapped my ass as he came again and again with each stroke into my hole. Each spurt from my cock caused the muscles of my asswall to grab his shaft tighter and milk another blast from his guts. Michael slowly began to ease up on the workout he was giving my butt and lowered his hot body onto mine.

With his still hard prick inside me, he hugged me and panted, "Oh, my God!"

"Unbelievable," was my response, "I canÕt believe your housekeeper walked in on us."

Michael laughed and his prod twitched in my raw cavity. "Yeah, she must have really gotten an eyeful."

It was my turn to giggle. "Well, she would have if sheÕd stayed around much longer. How the hell are you going to deal with her?"

Pulling up off of my body Michael said, "When I was a teenager I found out Teresa was her in this country illegally. One day she caught me smoking pot. I told her if anyone learned about it, she was on her way back home. She wonÕt say a word to anyone about today."

He pulled me up off the messy table and I asked if we shouldnÕt cleanup our mess. He laughed again as he pulled me out toward the open-air shower on the patio. "Hell no, why do that when we have a housekeeper."

A few weeks later a photo of Michael and his bride caught my attention as I read the newspaper. My wife walked in as I scanned the item about their wedding.

"Did someone you know get married?" she asked.

"Oh, just a good friend from the gym."

She wandered toward the kitchen and, always the model of proper manners, continued her quiz. "Did you get him a gift?"

"As a matter of fact, I gave him his gift a few weeks ago but I was thinking about calling him to go out for a drink and celebrate."

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