Payback

It had only been a fleeting moment; perhaps a minute of pure joy when all doubts about my bisexuality had been sucked out of me. It had been a carefree night, myself, Rob and Dan just fooling around, drinking vodka, laughing, planning all sort of improbable escapades.

It was about midnight and Dan asked us if we were hungry. He scampered off to the kitchen in his tiny flat to rustle something up, leaving Rob and me half watching the TV. Rob's head suddenly dropped limply on my lap, and I thought he'd fallen asleep, victim of the excessive cheap vodka.

His hand rubbing heavily on my dick through my jeans alerted me to the fact he was very much awake. I was shocked, too shocked to resist, and deeply embarrassed when my dick promptly stood to attention. I felt it scrape past the metal fastener as Rob unzipped me and applied what little coaxing it needed to make its way coyly out of my flies.

I wanted to move away, frightened Dan would walk in any minute and that my secret desires would be exposed, but I simply couldn't. Transfixed, I took a deep intake of breath as Rob applied first his tongue, then his lips, to my throbbing glans.

He plunged his head down, taking my penis almost fully in his mouth, and proceeded to apply himself with vigour to the job in hand. It was only my third blow-job ever, the other times with women, but this was by far the most erotic.

Within barely thirty seconds I knew I had to shoot my load, and the slamming of cupboard doors in the kitchen indicated that Dan couldn't be far from making a reappearance. Rob worked furiously to bring me to climax and, as Dan's footsteps could be heard coming up the corridor, I groaned silently as my cum filled Rob's mouth in four or five ecstatic muscular spasms.

I was still trying to press my still-erect prick back into my pants, while Rob wiped my cum off his lips with the back of his hand, as Dan stepped back into the room with some cheese and crackers. His knowing look indicated that he realised we'd been up to something, but he said nothing.

He never did: not once down the years. It was all over so quickly, yet the memory of it all has stuck in my mind all this time as if it was yesterday. I've never forgotten it, and even now whenever I meet Rob I feel that hard bulge in my crotch.

And here I am, sitting on his sofa in his comfortable house, waiting for him to brew up some coffee for us. I've accepted his invitation to get together to write up that film we always talked about, one of those impossible dreams we chatted about that night before it got steamy.

Both of us are now married, but his better half has gone away on business for a couple of days. An opportunity to see if we can resurrect those old plans, says Rob. I instantly agreed. A film script would be an enjoyable project.

But I've also brought along a tube of lubrication and a pack of condoms, bought in the supermarket on the way here. Well, we can all dream, can't we? I could feel myself blushing to the brow as I paid for them. What would my wife think?

I hear Rob humming to himself as he makes his way back from the kitchen somewhere behind this sofa, yet I smell no coffee. Suddenly he appears directly in front of me, stripped bare, and with a huge erection twitching barely a yard away from my face.

I'd never indulged in any gay action save for that one occasion, unless you count that time I masturbated that Arab stud into an explosive climax during that solo foray into North Africa. I'd baulked from taking up his offer to accompany me to my room that time, largely because I thought he'd ask me for money.

But there was no doubt I'd always been interested, bought mags, watched videos and DVDs, and even watched a live gay sex show in Budapest once where these two guys really went at it hammer and tongs right in front of my table. One of them had even wiggled his ass against my bulging crotch as he left the seedy little dimly-lit room.

And here was I now about to indulge in my own sex act with Rob, the man I'd visualised as I wanked myself senseless so many times down the years. I'd always wondered what it felt like to have a penis in my mouth, and how it tasted. There was no way I was going to turn down this opportunity. Not with Rob.

He takes a step nearer, and whispers: "Now it's your turn".

I grab his buttocks and pull him towards me. His glans twitches and hovers over my trembling lips, and then Rob slowly slides his meat deep into my mouth. I close my lips tight and try to caress his prick with my tongue as it makes its way towards my throat.

In my ecstasy I forget to note what it tastes like: but it feels like heaven. He pumps slowly, then quickly, then slowly, at my hungry mouth. He lasts so much longer than I recall I did with him. But who cares?

His sudden frantic lunging tells me he's approaching his climax. He judders and lets out a low groan, and I feel my mouth filling with his hot creamy cum.

Fearing I'll upset him if I gag, I decide to swallow it as quickly as I can. He releases a satisfied "aahh" as he withdraws his dick, the last dribble of his cum linking between my lips and his glans before snapping in two and dangling down my chin.

"Swallowed it, eh," he murmurs. "How professional."

Like a schoolboy, I'm delighted at this praise. I hear a soft electronic purring, and Rob produces a plastic vibrator from somewhere. He orders me to undress, which I do without a murmur. He pushes my chest and makes me lie down on the sofa, lifting my legs high in the air. I hand him the lubricant and condoms.

"I'll just get you ready with this first," he says in that sexy tone of his, applying lubricant to the vibrator's quaking length.

As Rob guides that quivering piece of plastic into my anus, I think to myself: "so dreams do come true."