4th Floor Coffman

A-AS pulled me to my feet. He kissed me. I'd never kissed a guy before. That may seem strange to a younger generation of bi, or gay, men but I don't think I was that unusual back then. I'd sucked cock, been sucked but I'd never kissed a guy before that moment. His tongue was hungry, whether for my mouth or what was left of HW's cum I have no idea. After I got over my surprise, I found I didn't mind. I kinda liked it, the feel of his whiskers, the fuller lips, the more aggressive nature of the kiss. No, I hadn't minded, not a bit.

He pulled away, turned and leaned with his hands against the wall. He had to bend nearly double and squat a little for his ass to be even with my cock.

"Fuck me?"

Surprise number two. I'd never fucked or been fucked, not with a guy. When privacy allowed, I'd used one of my wife's toys on my ass but that was it. I ran through what I knew about HIV risks. I was here because we were on one of my wife's periodic breaks from birth control pills, breaks that she requested to give her body a breather from having her hormones fucked with. I only gave in to my deeply hidden desires when I was using condoms in my own bed. I'd spend a few days hanging out here, getting a year's, or more, worth of cock in, then wait a long six weeks, sure I'd really fucked up and finally gotten what I deserved, before pricking my finger and mailing in an HIV test. Sucking dick was relatively low risk. Getting fucked, high risk. Fucking another man, not high but not as low as sucking. I knew I wanted to fuck him, desperately. My question was, was I strong enough to resist. Fuck, the readers will know the answer to that. I knew the answer, if I'd wanted to be honest with myself. Walking in the fucking door, grabbing a stall and whipping out my dick was a pretty clear answer with regards to my self-control.

I hesitated, as much as my hard dick would allow anyway. I dropped to my knees first and spread his ass. There were other things besides sucking dick and fucking a guy's ass I'd dreamed about. If his ass had smelled of shit everything might have been different. It didn't. It smelled of him, the musk of his crotch ratcheted up a notch or so. When I'm not just horny but fucking horny, out of control horny, I'm bold. I pushed my face into his ass crack and started tonguing the dark pucker. He didn't taste like shit. It was a earthier taste than his cock but that was all. I tongued him. He pushed back against me, moaning.

Bam, we both jumped back into our stalls. I don't know about him but I was mentally screaming every curse I'd ever heard. Piss. No wash. Out the door. So was I, mad with lust.

I was on him before he could get braced against the wall. I didn't kneel. I bent. Tongued his ass, spit in my hand, but my spit and precum over my cock, leaned over him and let my spit dropped in the crack of his ass, just above his pucker. I didn't spit on him. I've never wanted to spit on anyone or be spit upon. I straightened, rubbed my cock head over his asshole, and started to push. He pushed back and the head of my cock slipped past his sphincter. He hissed and put a hand on my leg. "Easy. Hold on." I waited, doing nothing more than holding still while he pushed himself onto my cock. My God, how different his ass felt from a pussy. Anal was not something any of my girlfriends, or wife, was interested in. He was so fucking tight, but not along the whole length of my cock like young pussy. He was tight but only at the sphincter. His asshole clenched at the part of my dick directly inside it, beyond that tight, so tight ring his ass was looser than a pussy. I didn't feel anything in his ass and breathed a sigh of relief. I was new to this but I also knew, from my occasional dildo play, that I wasn't a fan of messy clean ups.

When I pulled out, my cock looked clean enough. I didn't pull all the way out. When the ring of my crown encountered the ring of his ass, I stopped. I let another strand of spit fall onto my cock before entering him again. There was no hiss that time and no hand on my leg holding me back. I grabbed his hips and started to fuck him. He quickly matched my rhythm. Fuck, his ass felt amazing. I held back as long as I could.

"Want me to cum in your ass or pull out?"

"Cum in my ass, dude."

I didn't argue. I fucked him, one ear tuned for the door. When I came, it had to have rivaled the load HW had given me. I haven't cum that hard since the first time I fucked a girl or the first time I got my dick sucked (by a guy, through a glory hole, before I ever got sucked off by a woman). I shoved into him and held myself tight, pumping my jizz into his guts. When I started to pull out, he whispered, "go slow". I did. I was fascinated by how white my cum looked on his dark skin.

Bam. The fucking door.

Shuffle, shuffle. I took the time to wipe my cock off with toilet paper, purposely not looking too closely. As I sat there, listening to some dude taking a leak, I told myself not to be a total douche and bolt. I owed the kid. Now that I'd cum, my mind started reading off the litany of my sins and faults. I didn't pull up my pants. When the coast was clear I went to his door. "Want me to finish sucking you?"

"Cool."

That was the sum total of our conversation. After all this time I can't claim it's verbatim but there weren't many more words than that exchanged.

I got on my knees and took his cock, to this day still the most magnificent dick I've ever had in my mouth, and got to work. Once I had him revved up again, I let him fuck my mouth, using my hand to cover the part of his shaft I couldn't get in my mouth. I have fond memories of that kid, fond memories and respect. He fucked my mouth with eagerness but not violence. He never made me gag. Never called me 'his bitch' or told me to 'suck it'. All things too many men seem to imagine the person sucking their dick wants to hear.

If anything, his load was bigger than HW's. I couldn't swallow fast enough. Some of it dripped off my chin and onto the floor. For a fleeting instant, I considered licking it off the floor. Sick, I know. I didn't but I thought about it. If I hadn't already cum I don't know if I would have or not.

I stood up. He nodded, tucked his cock back in his shorts and left.

I went to the sink and wet two paper towels, squirted soap on one and grabbed a third, dry, one. Back inside the stall, I washed off my dick, wiped off the soap and dried. Someone came in and sat down. I could see him leaning over, peeking, watching me put my mostly soft cock back in my jeans.

I didn't stay. I tossed the paper towels away, washed my hands and went back to the cubby hole that served as my office.