Alfredo was a friend of my girlfriend’s and I used to bump into him at parties. It was well known that he was gay, and the family were fine with that, as was I. After all, what does it really matter? I wasn’t gay, as far as they knew; but in fact, like most men, I had occasional urges in that direction, but I had kept it under wraps, just to make life easier.
Alfredo was Spanish and had lived in east Sussex for ten years, so he spoke good English. They say all women would like to have a gay male friend, for reasons I’m not qualified to speculate about, and I have to say that when Ginny was with Alfredo, I felt confident that she was okay.
He was educated, you might say sophisticated, and dressed well. Long black hair in a style I had worn many years earlier but which many Hispanic men seem to still favour. And he had body hair; hairy arms. hairy chest, hairy legs, as I had seen in the summer when he wore shorts in spite of the unreliable British weather. I’m not wild about body hair on men. It seems to me to be a throwback to our primitive ancestors that we should have grown out of by now. However, that was my feeling during what you might call my “official” life.
One Christmas at Ginny’s house, when I was waiting for someone to fetch me a drink, Alfredo had passed me his glass of red wine, which he had already drunk half of. Maybe it’s just me, but I saw that as flirtatious act. The wine would contain minute traces of his saliva. This was before Covid, so it wasn’t regarded as irresponsible, but there was something about the way he engineered the exchange that struck me as challenging. He was daring me to either drink it and imbibe a tiny bit of him or refuse and show myself as a bit of a pansy. So I had taken a large slurp and smiled as I gave it back to him.
In such ways are messages passed between people. I didn’t think much more about it, but a couple of months later I met him on the train to London. He was going for a job interview and I was going to buy a guitar, but had decided to stay overnight and look up some old friends.
Alfredo was going to be getting the first train back once he was finished, but we arranged to meet for a drink after his interview. It was his idea.
So we met up in a pub next to my hotel and were soon deep in conversation. We had never chatted on our own before, but I found him good company. After the third glass of wine we were quite matey and suddenly he said,
“You know what, I think I’ll stay over too. Is the hotel busy?” I said it seemed Büyükesat Escort fairly quiet, and we left it at that and went to an Italian restaurant for dinner. By the time we got to the hotel it was 10 o’clock, and lo and behold there were no rooms left.
“I’ve got a double with two beds,” I said gallantly. “We can share if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he said, and gave me a little look.
We had another couple of drinks in the bar and finally went upstairs around 11.
I showed Alfredo my new guitar, an Epiphone acoustic that sounded almost as good as it looked, and he asked me to play him something, so I did. He wanted to hear Sacrifice by Elton John, and it was in my repertoire, albeit way down the list. I got through it okay and when I had finished he was looking at me steadily, looking into my eyes. If something had been in the back of my mind, at that moment it barged its way to the front. Alfredo went to the bathroom and after pissing and making a bit of a splash in the sink, I could hear him brushing his teeth. Either he just happened to have a toothbrush with him or he had used mine. So we might be sharing saliva again. I found the thought oddly exciting.
When he came out, I went in and had a quick shower. When I got to the toothbrush, sure enough it was damp.
I hadn’t taken pajamas with me because I hadn’t expected to have company, so I went back in the room with a towel wrapped around my waist.
Alfredo was lying on a bed in just his underpants, reading some brochure, or at least pretending to.
“You’re not shy about sharing a room with a man,” he observed. I walked over to where he was and stood in front of him.
“You’re nice and hairy,” I said, almost choking with the danger of the words.
“And you’re nice and smooth,” he replied. “It’s a fair exchange.”
I sat on the bed and the damp towel stuck to my skin, forcing it apart so the tops of my thighs were exposed.
“I would like to see your cock,” Alfredo said simply. It could almost have been an innocent remark, but we both knew it was the most blatant way of opening the floodgates of lust. My cock, which had already been semi-stiff, now stood up and begged me to do something. I unhooked the towel and laid the sides down. I was naked on a hotel bed with a man I knew was gay.
“Now you,” I said shyly. Alfredo slipped his underpants down and I was treated to the full glory of his hairy body, a wickedly alluring sight. Elvankent Escort I couldn’t stop myself. I fell to my knees on the floor and he slid around so his crotch was facing me. I got my face in his furry lap and took his cock in my mouth. I had only managed a few seconds when I had to say something.
“Fuck, Alfredo, I love your body.”
“I have always wanted to have you,” he said. “But I didn’t think you were into it.”
“Well now you know,” I said, before plunging my mouth back over his eager, sinful penis.
After a few minutes of this I climbed onto the bed and kissed him. This wasn’t in the script at all, but I couldn’t help myself. There was just one thing: I wanted him to be on top, not me. I was behaving as I did with women, but I wanted him to be in charge.
“Are you a top?” I whispered.
“Do you want me to be?” he whispered back. I took his right hand and placed it in my crack.
“Yes,” I hissed. “I want you to be in charge.”
Grasping the idea immediately, Alfredo ran his middle finger around my crack and poked it into my anus. Then he swung me onto my back and lay on top of me. My thighs parted gratefully and now I had this lovely, muscular, hairy man between my legs. He kissed me and I kissed him and stroked his back, which was also intoxicatingly hairy. Then my fingers trailed down between his buttocks and I felt the hot, slightly oily secret place.
“I want to lick your arse,” I said, my voice cracking with excitement. “And then I want you to fuck me.” It was the most thrilling sentence I had ever uttered.
“Yes,” he replied. “You can lick my arse. You need to lick my arse, I know. Just like you need me inside you. Don’t worry, I know what you want and I’m going to give it to you.”
With that he turned onto his knees and presented his bottom to me. I had shot past any feeling of hesitancy, felt the last vestiges of heterosexual masculine pride evaporate, as if from my anus, which now wanted this man desperately. I was so glad of his experience, and the fact that he understood my need to serve him through licking his crack before receiving his big, hard cock up my craving hole. I licked Alfredo’s arse and I loved what I was doing. It wasn’t like doing it to a woman; it was rougher, earthier and altogether I more abject. It was an extreme form of submission, and he hadn’t even asked me to do it – it had been my decision, my need. I wanted to lick Alfredo’s arse until he came, or until Beşevler Escort I came from the sheer submissive thrill of it.
But even more than this need to please my man, I needed him to please himself by shoving his cock inside me. As if sensing this was the time, Alfredo extricated himself from my clutches and took a sachet from the inside pocket of his jacket.
“It just so happens,” he said. “I’ve got this.” He ripped it open and spread lube on his big, hard cock and I found myself on my back with my legs in the air as he prepared my arsehole. Then, staring into my eyes with a slight smile, he pulled me into position and place his knob at my entrance. With an expert flourish he penetrated me and I felt the incredible sensation of being filled with his meat. I must have smiled with relief because he smiled too.
“I’m going to give you a good time,” he said, pushing deep inside me and pulling right out again, to give me the feeling of being entered again. I was absurdly grateful to this man for doing me, because that’s what it was. He was doing me as I had always secretly wanted to be done, way back in the years when I thought it was wrong and was ashamed of myself for feeling that way.
Alfredo pumped me smoothly but firmly and occasionally gave me an extra hard bang just to show who was boss.
“Now I’m going to do you doggie style,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he flipped me onto my knees and climbed on top, forcing that wonderful cock through my ring again, this time with no tentative gentleness. I was now fully accustomed to having him in there and he could sense that. He banged me harder and I gave a little yelp.
“Oh my god,” I said. “Fuck me, Alfredo. I want your spunk inside me.”
“All in good time,” he said kindly, and I could feel he was grinding himself, positioning his cock head to gain the most traction as he built up the steam in his system.
“Now I want you on your back again,” he said, manhandling me into position, “So I can see your face when I cum and you can see mine.”
My eyes were locked with his as my legs wrapped themselves around his body and then reached for the sky to let him go even deeper. Then his eyes went misty and he lurched and groaned and finally growled as his muscles spasmed and he pumped his semen into my cavity.
As he leaned down and kissed me, I took my cock and wanked. In seconds I was shooting my own spunk so that some hit him and the rest landed on my stomach.
At that moment I fell in love with Alfredo and although we would never let anyone know, it was the start of a wonderful clandestine relationship in which I worshiped him physically and with no little emotion. At every opportunity we would meet and he would fuck me, but it was more than that: he would make love to me and the crude sexual acts we performed were exalted, elevated to a wonderful level.