I’d only met Josh about six or seven times, but we definitely got on. The new boyfriend of my girlfriend’s best friend (think about it…) was a plumber. He was about 5ft 10in, slightly shorter than me, and with a similar build. Not toned, no six-pack, but not overweight. Very much a regular tradie type. I did fancy him, especially as he is one of the only blokey-blokes I’ve ever got on with. “Lad lads” tend to find me very much on the wrong side of boring.
Josh also had another desirable quality, in that once enough beers were inside him he very much become something of a bromantic. Sat at a table with both our girlfriends, he’d never had a problem with gently massaging my shoulders or giving me a peck on the cheek. The girls thought it was hilarious, more so when you consider the context of a blokey bloke being so overly romantic with a very much straight acting but quite prim and proper man like me. I’d sometimes wondered how many beers were the magic number for him to explore his other side. Now I know.
The first I knew about the weekend was when the girls (well, mine to be exact) announced they would be enjoying a spa weekend, but when it was discovered that only one room was available – and with twin beds at that – then it quickly became a girls only affair and Josh and I were consigned to home.
It was his girlfriend, Chloe, who suggested to him that he should check out what I was doing that weekend. Maybe he should come and stay with me and we could have a few drinks?
Suffice to say I agreed and we decided to have a lads weekend. I wasn’t quite sure what that entailed at first, but it quickly turned into 10 or 11 pints in town with just the two of us. The conversation, after about four or five hours, turned a bit more interesting. How he’d never tried a threesome, despite being offered, something he always regretted. Then plenty of filthy jokes, comments about squirting, the occasional foreskin joke. All good natured banter. I made a few jokes that were slightly more sophisticated, which brought out the bromantic in him. Cue a few more cheek kisses and one very nice peck on the side of my neck. Unfortunately I had no option to peek at the urinals – we had his bag with his clothes with us, so one of us always had to stay at the table.
The train journey home was uneventful and mercifully short at 30 minutes on the fast train, which didn’t quite give us time to fall so asleep as to miss our stop.
At home, seeing as it was only midnight, I thought we should continue the fun and suggested another beer, which quickly became another three. When he went to take the piss he left the to the bathroom open, which didn’t assist me in any practical sense, but I did get to hear him. A very nice stream of piss and a quite decent shake, judging by the time between him stopping and the toilet flushing.
By now we were just in our sleepwear – it was a warm night, and I would never have discouraged him from changing into just a t-shirt and keeping his boxers on (from Next. Cute). We both changed in front of each other, but again nothing really unusual as it’s hardly full blown nudity.
I could tell he was getting drunker, especially with the occasional stumble. I made another joke and he howled with laughter. Not quite sure why, it wasn’t that funny, but he put his arms out and wrapped them round me in a blokey bear hug.
“You’re so fucking funny mate!”
And then another peck on the side of my neck.
“You’re so…”
Peck
“…fucking…”
Peck
“…funny!”
With that he kept pecking away at my neck for felt like minutes but in reality was about 10 or 15 seconds. When he stopped, I took my chance.
“Oi, what about the other side, eh?” and flashed him a cheeky smile.
He laughed again and started pecking my neck but this time, as directed, on the other side. He seemed more eager this time, and I was starting to get worried – I could feel the stirrings of a boner start to rise and due to our bear hug posture, our penises were dangerously close.
He continued pecking but with each kiss now I could feel a bit of tongue – softly at first but then more until he was almost swirling it over my neck. Was this part of the lad culture I had never seen before? Was this a perfectly straight thing to do or did he want to go further? I was, as they say, in something of a pickle.
I made a plan in my addled mind. I would silently count down from 10, and if at the end of 10 seconds he was still doing it, then I’d let out a visible sign of pleasure. A moan. Something like that.
10…9…1
I moaned gently and moved my arm up his back. He seemed to like this and kept up working his tongue with slightly more urgency about him. I moved my other hand down his back, with my last two fingers now resting on the waistband of his boxers. Again, I let out a little moan and whispered “oh, that’s good…”. He continued unperturbed and then switched back to the other side of my neck. At this, I took my chance. He must definitely be bi-sexual, I thought. I moved both my arms down his back and put my hands on his buttocks, with only the material of his boxers between me and his skin. I let five seconds elapse and then I moved my fingers underneath the waistband and could feel his checks on my hands. I played this gently – he might be bi, but might not be up for much arse fiddling. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I gently teased his arse checks by spreading them to the gentlest and smallest degree. He didn’t resist.
He moved his lips away from my next and towards my face. It looked slightly comical at the time, as his eyes were shut as his lips connected with mine. He tasted of bloke. Of man. Of lad. And of beer. He’d had a shave earlier, but by now it was 1.30am the next day so he had the beginning of stubble. It felt strangely erotic against my skin. What to do now? I thought I must move on – he’d made his intentions obvious. He was kissing me on the mouth and I was holding and gently massaging his buttocks. I was fully erect and I could feel he was as we held each other against us.
I moved my hand around inside his boxers and took hold of his cock. I ran my hand up and down once, from the tip to the base, and could feel he was uncircumcised (like me) and he appeared to have a very long foreskin, which covered his glans fully. I always thought mine was long, but when hard about 20% of the glans was exposed. He was about my size, dick-wise. About a good 6 inches.
My gentle wanking movements needed moving on, so I pulled at his boxers and moved our bodies round so he was leaning against the arm of the sofa. As we moved, his boxers slid to the floor. I could tell his shaved or trimmed, but hadn’t done in the last few weeks as there was a small bush of black pubes at the base of his dick.
I moved to my knees and took his penis in my mouth, but without retracting his foreskin. I knew what I was doing and wanted to take him to pleasure in stages. After a few in and outs into my mouth, I gently rolled back his foreskin and took the head of his cock into my mouth and swirled my tongue over it and under it, licking and caressing all the time. I knew I was doing well – he displayed the classic blowjob response – head back looking at the ceiling, and a long whispered “oh…fuuuuuuck”.
I wanted to vary my technique, so I did what I call the more classic wank. Foreskin back and forth over glans, repeatedly, with my tongue ready to connect with his cock head with each motion. This I varied with licking the head whilst wanking him but I never let his foreskin cover the head, always staying behind the base. And then for my third technique, I held the base of his cock tightly so the foreskin stayed retracted completely whilst I moved him in and out of my mouth. I mixed in a few hand motions whilst doing this, in a way that was similar to wanking a circumcised man. He whispered again “that’s so sensitive”. And I’m sure it was.
After about two minutes of this action, I again thought I’d make a slight change and took one of his balls into my mouth. Like his cock, his balls were used to seeing a razor or trimmer but not for a few weeks. He seemed to enjoy having a ball in my mouth.
My concern now is that if I continued and made him cum, then he’d turn back into a straight male again and I’d be left to wank myself off to the memory. Don’t get me wrong, I’d definitely do that in future, but I wanted more. I kept hold of his cock and gently wanked it while I stood up. With my mother hand, I lifted his t-shirt up and his took over and pulled it over his head. I did the same with mine and dropped my boxers to the floor. Once removed, I put my mouth back onto his and as we connected then so did our penises. I held them together, pointed them both upwards and gently wanked us both in unison.
He started again kissing and licking my neck, so with a gentle motion I moved is head downwards to my shoulders and then to my nipples and chest. He took my lead and kissed further down until his mouth was directly opposite my cock. I fully retracted my foreskin, and in doing so moved my hips forward and my glans entered his mouth followed by the rest of my erection. His technique was good, but very traditional. Very much a set menu instead of my a la carte offering. He was mainly just wanking me as I imagined he wanked himself. Foreskin back and forth over the glans. But, no time to complain, as the eroticism of the situated more than made up for any slight oral deficiency.
I knew how I wanted the night to end. No fucking, but with me kneeling over him, us both having shot our loads onto his stomach and chest. I knew when I wanted to that I could easily make myself cum in about 30 seconds, so my plan was to get him to the last 30 seconds before his orgasm so we can shoot together. I had my hands on his head, running through his hair, and I motioned him upwards to kiss him.
From there I motioned us to our spare room, where he would be sleeping that night. I pushed him onto the bed and kneeled over him, so our cocks could be positioned so with two hands I could wank them both at the same time. I knew what he liked enough by now, so I went with the most sensitive technique in my armoury and focused on his glans and frenulum with my hands, stopping once to give him 30 seconds of blowjob to add some saliva as lube.
His breathing rate had started to increase and I felt his legs tighten.
“Are you close?” I asked
“Yeah not far. Fuck”
I continued and also increased the work on my own cock until I could feel the vestige of orgasm approaching. I switched position slightly and kept working both of us.
His breathing by now was so intense I knew he was only a few seconds away, as was I. We both came within the same two seconds, him with the first spurt, my just after. I kept wanking him as he ejaculated, with me wanking myself slightly to the side of him. I didn’t want to get my cum on his cock as my plan was to lick the remnants of his own cum off of him.
With my final wanking movement, I kept his glans exposed and took it into my mouth. I could smell him, taste him and feel him. In my mouth, there was one last dribble of cum to extract and I let it slowly slip down my throat.
Josh also had another desirable quality, in that once enough beers were inside him he very much become something of a bromantic. Sat at a table with both our girlfriends, he’d never had a problem with gently massaging my shoulders or giving me a peck on the cheek. The girls thought it was hilarious, more so when you consider the context of a blokey bloke being so overly romantic with a very much straight acting but quite prim and proper man like me. I’d sometimes wondered how many beers were the magic number for him to explore his other side. Now I know.
The first I knew about the weekend was when the girls (well, mine to be exact) announced they would be enjoying a spa weekend, but when it was discovered that only one room was available – and with twin beds at that – then it quickly became a girls only affair and Josh and I were consigned to home.
It was his girlfriend, Chloe, who suggested to him that he should check out what I was doing that weekend. Maybe he should come and stay with me and we could have a few drinks?
Suffice to say I agreed and we decided to have a lads weekend. I wasn’t quite sure what that entailed at first, but it quickly turned into 10 or 11 pints in town with just the two of us. The conversation, after about four or five hours, turned a bit more interesting. How he’d never tried a threesome, despite being offered, something he always regretted. Then plenty of filthy jokes, comments about squirting, the occasional foreskin joke. All good natured banter. I made a few jokes that were slightly more sophisticated, which brought out the bromantic in him. Cue a few more cheek kisses and one very nice peck on the side of my neck. Unfortunately I had no option to peek at the urinals – we had his bag with his clothes with us, so one of us always had to stay at the table.
The train journey home was uneventful and mercifully short at 30 minutes on the fast train, which didn’t quite give us time to fall so asleep as to miss our stop.
At home, seeing as it was only midnight, I thought we should continue the fun and suggested another beer, which quickly became another three. When he went to take the piss he left the to the bathroom open, which didn’t assist me in any practical sense, but I did get to hear him. A very nice stream of piss and a quite decent shake, judging by the time between him stopping and the toilet flushing.
By now we were just in our sleepwear – it was a warm night, and I would never have discouraged him from changing into just a t-shirt and keeping his boxers on (from Next. Cute). We both changed in front of each other, but again nothing really unusual as it’s hardly full blown nudity.
I could tell he was getting drunker, especially with the occasional stumble. I made another joke and he howled with laughter. Not quite sure why, it wasn’t that funny, but he put his arms out and wrapped them round me in a blokey bear hug.
“You’re so fucking funny mate!”
And then another peck on the side of my neck.
“You’re so…”
Peck
“…fucking…”
Peck
“…funny!”
With that he kept pecking away at my neck for felt like minutes but in reality was about 10 or 15 seconds. When he stopped, I took my chance.
“Oi, what about the other side, eh?” and flashed him a cheeky smile.
He laughed again and started pecking my neck but this time, as directed, on the other side. He seemed more eager this time, and I was starting to get worried – I could feel the stirrings of a boner start to rise and due to our bear hug posture, our penises were dangerously close.
He continued pecking but with each kiss now I could feel a bit of tongue – softly at first but then more until he was almost swirling it over my neck. Was this part of the lad culture I had never seen before? Was this a perfectly straight thing to do or did he want to go further? I was, as they say, in something of a pickle.
I made a plan in my addled mind. I would silently count down from 10, and if at the end of 10 seconds he was still doing it, then I’d let out a visible sign of pleasure. A moan. Something like that.
10…9…1
I moaned gently and moved my arm up his back. He seemed to like this and kept up working his tongue with slightly more urgency about him. I moved my other hand down his back, with my last two fingers now resting on the waistband of his boxers. Again, I let out a little moan and whispered “oh, that’s good…”. He continued unperturbed and then switched back to the other side of my neck. At this, I took my chance. He must definitely be bi-sexual, I thought. I moved both my arms down his back and put my hands on his buttocks, with only the material of his boxers between me and his skin. I let five seconds elapse and then I moved my fingers underneath the waistband and could feel his checks on my hands. I played this gently – he might be bi, but might not be up for much arse fiddling. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I gently teased his arse checks by spreading them to the gentlest and smallest degree. He didn’t resist.
He moved his lips away from my next and towards my face. It looked slightly comical at the time, as his eyes were shut as his lips connected with mine. He tasted of bloke. Of man. Of lad. And of beer. He’d had a shave earlier, but by now it was 1.30am the next day so he had the beginning of stubble. It felt strangely erotic against my skin. What to do now? I thought I must move on – he’d made his intentions obvious. He was kissing me on the mouth and I was holding and gently massaging his buttocks. I was fully erect and I could feel he was as we held each other against us.
I moved my hand around inside his boxers and took hold of his cock. I ran my hand up and down once, from the tip to the base, and could feel he was uncircumcised (like me) and he appeared to have a very long foreskin, which covered his glans fully. I always thought mine was long, but when hard about 20% of the glans was exposed. He was about my size, dick-wise. About a good 6 inches.
My gentle wanking movements needed moving on, so I pulled at his boxers and moved our bodies round so he was leaning against the arm of the sofa. As we moved, his boxers slid to the floor. I could tell his shaved or trimmed, but hadn’t done in the last few weeks as there was a small bush of black pubes at the base of his dick.
I moved to my knees and took his penis in my mouth, but without retracting his foreskin. I knew what I was doing and wanted to take him to pleasure in stages. After a few in and outs into my mouth, I gently rolled back his foreskin and took the head of his cock into my mouth and swirled my tongue over it and under it, licking and caressing all the time. I knew I was doing well – he displayed the classic blowjob response – head back looking at the ceiling, and a long whispered “oh…fuuuuuuck”.
I wanted to vary my technique, so I did what I call the more classic wank. Foreskin back and forth over glans, repeatedly, with my tongue ready to connect with his cock head with each motion. This I varied with licking the head whilst wanking him but I never let his foreskin cover the head, always staying behind the base. And then for my third technique, I held the base of his cock tightly so the foreskin stayed retracted completely whilst I moved him in and out of my mouth. I mixed in a few hand motions whilst doing this, in a way that was similar to wanking a circumcised man. He whispered again “that’s so sensitive”. And I’m sure it was.
After about two minutes of this action, I again thought I’d make a slight change and took one of his balls into my mouth. Like his cock, his balls were used to seeing a razor or trimmer but not for a few weeks. He seemed to enjoy having a ball in my mouth.
My concern now is that if I continued and made him cum, then he’d turn back into a straight male again and I’d be left to wank myself off to the memory. Don’t get me wrong, I’d definitely do that in future, but I wanted more. I kept hold of his cock and gently wanked it while I stood up. With my mother hand, I lifted his t-shirt up and his took over and pulled it over his head. I did the same with mine and dropped my boxers to the floor. Once removed, I put my mouth back onto his and as we connected then so did our penises. I held them together, pointed them both upwards and gently wanked us both in unison.
He started again kissing and licking my neck, so with a gentle motion I moved is head downwards to my shoulders and then to my nipples and chest. He took my lead and kissed further down until his mouth was directly opposite my cock. I fully retracted my foreskin, and in doing so moved my hips forward and my glans entered his mouth followed by the rest of my erection. His technique was good, but very traditional. Very much a set menu instead of my a la carte offering. He was mainly just wanking me as I imagined he wanked himself. Foreskin back and forth over the glans. But, no time to complain, as the eroticism of the situated more than made up for any slight oral deficiency.
I knew how I wanted the night to end. No fucking, but with me kneeling over him, us both having shot our loads onto his stomach and chest. I knew when I wanted to that I could easily make myself cum in about 30 seconds, so my plan was to get him to the last 30 seconds before his orgasm so we can shoot together. I had my hands on his head, running through his hair, and I motioned him upwards to kiss him.
From there I motioned us to our spare room, where he would be sleeping that night. I pushed him onto the bed and kneeled over him, so our cocks could be positioned so with two hands I could wank them both at the same time. I knew what he liked enough by now, so I went with the most sensitive technique in my armoury and focused on his glans and frenulum with my hands, stopping once to give him 30 seconds of blowjob to add some saliva as lube.
His breathing rate had started to increase and I felt his legs tighten.
“Are you close?” I asked
“Yeah not far. Fuck”
I continued and also increased the work on my own cock until I could feel the vestige of orgasm approaching. I switched position slightly and kept working both of us.
His breathing by now was so intense I knew he was only a few seconds away, as was I. We both came within the same two seconds, him with the first spurt, my just after. I kept wanking him as he ejaculated, with me wanking myself slightly to the side of him. I didn’t want to get my cum on his cock as my plan was to lick the remnants of his own cum off of him.
With my final wanking movement, I kept his glans exposed and took it into my mouth. I could smell him, taste him and feel him. In my mouth, there was one last dribble of cum to extract and I let it slowly slip down my throat.
