A Man in My Bed

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Part of the ‘Butt Monkey’ series of stories by Robert Furlong


I followed Bradley up the stairs, hardly able to believe that I was about to do this: I was finally going to find out what it was like to have a man in my bed.

It seemed as if I had waited for this for so long, but in reality it had just been a matter of months. Looking back, I felt as if I had had the prospect of what I was about to do lurking somewhere in my mind, whether consciously or subconsciously, since soon after the night I’d spent with Guy before the football match.

Up until that night with Guy, I’d always regarded myself as a fairly average, happily-divorced man. I had always enjoyed fantasizing about women but had never had a great deal of luck with them in the flesh – and that, of course, went double for my ex-wife Linda. I wasn’t a great romantic and my performance in the bedroom, if I’m being honest, could most charitably be described as middling. However, my sexual interests, such as they were, had been unquestionably and exclusively directed towards the opposite sex.

But then, out of nowhere, I’d clumsily discovered that I had an attraction towards my own gender that I hadn’t previously even suspected I might harbour. Since that night, I’d questioned just about everything which I’d previously assumed I knew about myself and had fundamentally changed my whole view of my sexuality.

But even as I followed Bradley up to my bedroom, I didn’t feel that what I’ve been through these past few months had somehow miraculously made me become gay: that simply hadn’t happened. Even though we’d unexpectedly kissed and I’d found that I’d even more unexpectedly enjoyed it, I still didn’t feel any kind of urge to get into a romantic relationship with him or any other man. I still cherished the hope that things would turn out well between Debbie and me or otherwise that one day the right woman would come along.

Looking back, as I did right then, it seemed that my moment of fumbling sex with Guy had awakened within me a natural and deep-rooted need for intimacy with my own gender. It had caused me to gradually, and at times painfully, accept that sharing my bed with another man can be exciting and erotic in a totally different way from sharing it with a woman.

And now I was about to find out how.


“What sort of stuff do you like, then, Rob?” Bradley asked when I got to the top of the stairs.

It occurred to me that we could, at this point, find out we were totally unsuited. That, perhaps, this question should have been asked when we’d first chatted outside the entrance of reception.

I smiled at him, gesturing him through to my bedroom and followed him in.

“I’d like to rim you,” I said. “And maybe fuck you, if you’d like that.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, putting his glass down on the drawers and starting to unbutton his shirt. “That’s the great thing about hooking up with a guy – while he’s hard, he’s horny, and if he’s not it’s time to try something different. All pretty simple, really.”

I nodded, remembering that Cameron had told me something similar. Then I realised I shouldn’t just be standing there staring at him, but ought to be undressing too.

“What do you want to do?” I asked him in return, undoing my own shirt buttons.

“The same, pretty much. But I’d like you to suck me off. I’ll do the same for you, of course.” He took off his shirt and put it onto the chair. Underneath he was wearing an olive green t-shirt with a caption on it: ‘It’s not a bug, it’s a feature’. His chest hair bristled out from the neckline; evidently he was a very hairy man.

“I’m not too keen on it,” I said, a touch apologetically. “But you can lick it, if you like.”

He grinned, untying his shoelaces. “I’m happy to go with the flow, mate. Whatever you like and don’t like, just let me know.”

He took off his socks and I noticed the tops of his feet were surprisingly hairy; rather like a hobbit’s.

“While we’re on the subject, actually,” he went on, pulling down his trousers and revealing the rod of his still half-erect cock bulging outwards his shorts underneath. “Which way do you think you’d prefer to be fucked? From behind, or face-to-face?”

“I’m not really sure,” I said, taking off my shirt. It felt distinctly odd to be undressing with another guy like this, casually discussing the mechanics of how we were going to have sex together. “Like I said, I’ve never done it.”

He glanced over at me after pulling off his t-shirt. “But you must have fantasized about it?”

I smiled as I unbuttoned my own trousers, marvelling at how wonderfully hairy his chest was. “I’ve spent about three months doing little else, actually.”

He hitched his underwear down, still wet around the arsehole from where I’d licked them, and tossed them onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. Now fully naked, pale and scrawny and swathed in dense black hair, he looked magnificently blokeish. He smiled at me with his cock drooping downwards, still prominently thick but only illegal bahis partially-erect, and I smiled back at how plump his balls looked, straining against his hairy scrotum. He was impressively well-endowed – almost as generously equipped as I am in a similar state – and it was nice to feel that I was with someone who wouldn’t be concerned about how disproportionately large I am between my legs.

He grabbed his beer from the top of the drawers, took a swig, and positioned it more conveniently on the bedside table. Then, he got onto my bed and knelt there with his back to the headboard, waiting for me. His cock flopped down between his hairy thighs, the head of it covered by his foreskin, puckered forwards like a tiny mouth

I took off my own briefs and my own cock, now largely flaccid, flopped out so he could see for the first time how well-built I am. Unlike Debbie, he didn’t remark on what I had down there; he just accepted that we were similarly hung.

I took a drink from my wine, walked around to put it on the opposite bedside table, and then got onto my bed with him.

Two men naked together, readying themselves for intimacy.

I knelt in front of him, feeling distinctly self-conscious and realised I was unsure about what to do. Unlike him, I was conspicuously floppy and, in spite of the raging excitement I’d felt downstairs when I was rimming him, the unfamiliarity of the situation I was now in had all but smothered my passions. I was feeling a little cold, actually, and wished I’d had the sense to turn up the heating.

“So this is all pretty new to you, Rob?” he asked, reaching forwards to fondle me.

“Is that a problem?” I asked, as he gently stroked my cock and played with my heavy, dangling balls.

I reached towards him and did the same to his half-aroused member, mirroring his actions in my naivety about what I should do. I could feel him slowly thickening and growing harder: it was an intriguing sensation to be touching another man’s shaft as he was becoming excited.

“Are you worried about it?” he asked.

“A little,” I replied. “I suppose I’m concerned it might hurt if you want to fuck me.”

He smiled and his cock steadily stiffened against my fingers. “We can go as slow as you like. And if you don’t like the feel of it, don’t hold back from letting me know. There are loads of other things we can do. I don’t mind if we don’t do that.”

“I’d very much like to try it,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy it.”

It felt a little odd to be casually chatting like this with another man while we distractedly groped each other’s genitals. My own cock wasn’t stirring yet – this was all too strange for me to be able to relax – but his was lengthening quite significantly.

“I’ll make you nice and wet with my tongue,” he grinned.

“I’d like that,” I smiled back. “I’d like that very much.”

He smiled and nodded, his cock rising upwards of its own accord. “I’ll lick your arse good and deep and then I’ll slowly fuck you up it.”

I could see why he was talking with me like this, but it just wasn’t working for me: my cock remained steadfastly limp.

“So how do you think you’ll like it?” he asked. “From the front, or from behind.”

“Almost certainly from behind,” I replied. “That position – the whole doggy thing – really does it for me. At least I like to watch guys doing it that way in porn.”

He grinned. “I’m happy either way, mate. If taking it bending over is something you’ve fantasized about, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

I smiled back at him as his foreskin started to retract from his small button-shaped cock-head, his piss-slit looking short and almost circular as it eased out through the tip of it. A sharp whiff hit me from his moist, pink glans as it was slowly exposed. Unlike Debbie the previous evening, I liked the smell: it was the aroma of Bradley’s developing excitement; a redolent reminder of his burgeoning maleness.

This was a man I was with and for all of my nervousness at how new this was, I was determined, if nothing else, to savour that fact.

I looked at the pair of us in the mirrored doors of the fitted wardrobes along the far wall: the two of us naked and fondling each other’s cocks, face-to-face on what had been my marital bed. We looked good together: our bodies more or less the same in form but intriguingly different in their details.

“I’ll be happy to bend over for you, too,” he said. “So you can stick this nice big cock of yours right up my arse. Right up the arse you sniffed that day under your office desk.”

He smirked at me and his erection seemed to throb upwards, pumping itself bigger and harder at the prospect of the hole behind it being filled by mine.

Before I could respond, he took his hand from my cock and looked down at its limpness, almost cowering between my thighs.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered to him, feeling myself blush. “This is a little bit… well… freakish for me.”

“You’re nervous,” he smiled. “I get that. Let’s not make an issue of it.”

He illegal bahis siteleri leaned over and grabbed my discarded briefs which had been lying crumpled on the floor next to the bed. They were a pair of white Calvin Kleins which I’d chosen specifically for tonight as I thought they showed off my bulge and made my backside look particularly appealing through my trousers.

“Let’s have a look at these,” he muttered, opening them out and working out which was the front. I was feeling a little uncomfortable to have him looking at my underwear so intently: what if I hadn’t been as diligent in my hygiene as I thought I’d been?

He brought the saggy cup of the front gusset up to his face and inhaled deeply that day’s smells from my balls, my pubes and the times I’d shaken myself at the toilet. His cock throbbed upwards, rising even higher, and the foreskin peeled right back down the shaft to reveal in full his pudgy mushroom head.

He took the briefs away and grinned at me. “That is one hell of a dick-smell, Rob.”

He took another deep sniff from them and his cock stiffened further. I felt my own starting to come to life, seeing how much he was enjoying the smell of the underpants I’d been wearing. The sweat from my balls in the heat under my desk; the precum I’d oozed every time I’d been aroused.

“Jesus Christ, it’s fucking hot,” he smirked before inhaling from them a third time. “The raw stink of a fat horny cock and a big pair of hairy balls like yours… really gets me going… so fucking manly.”

Unlike when Debbie had used the word ‘manly’, I could see that Bradley intended it entirely complimentarily. The way his cock was throbbing upwards expectantly towards me rather said it all.

He turned the briefs over and sniffed at the back of them. He moved the material around, trying to locate the most odoriferous spot, and then inhaled deeply from where my hole must have been. Once again, his cock very visibly expressed its appreciation.

I could feel my own organ slowly hardening: seeing him sniffing at the most private part of my underwear, and clearly enjoying it, was proving unexpectedly arousing.

He glanced at my thickening cock and grinned at me again. “Christ, Rob, your arse smells fucking amazing. I bet it tastes even better!”

He took another sniff – right where they’d ridden up and had been snuggling into my tight, puckered ring – and said, “Oh, Jesus! I can’t wait to rim your hole!”

And after a third, “I want to fuck you right where I’m sniffing! I want to eat your arse and then fuck you right here – right where your stink is!”

I grinned back at him, marvelling at how crude he was being, as my cock started to rise upwards from between my legs, to join his, throbbing upwards between our stomachs.

He threw the briefs back on the floor and reached underneath my balls, groping through the hair between my cheeks with his finger outstretched. He quickly found my tight, moist hole and gently ran his fingertip around it.

“This is where I want to fuck you, Rob. Right up your hot, wet arsehole! Fast and dirty, just like you want it!”

I felt my cheeks flush with excitement as I gasped at him, “Yes! Yes, I want it!”

He slid his finger inside me and my anus consumed it hungrily. “I want to rut with you, Rob. For me to fuck you and then you to fuck me. For us to take it in turns together, over and over.”

I gaped at him, “God, yeah! That sounds great!”

And then he pulled out of me and we fell back from each other, the merest trace of my anal scent wafting from his finger.

Our cocks arched upwards towards each other, similar in length and thickness, although Bradley’s cock-head was smaller and rounder. We touched their tips together and then pulled them apart, watching our sticky precum make strings between them like tiny rope-bridges.

Then we smiled at each other; two men poised together on the threshold of sexual union.

He leaned back and grabbed my wine glass and passed it to me. As I was gulping the rest of my drink down, he did the same with his beer.

Our thirsts quenched, he returned both glasses to his side of the bed and then sat in front of me again so that our cocks were almost kissing.

“Right,” he said with an expectant smirk. “I’ll show you a trick!”

He grabbed his erection, craned his neck downwards and extended his tongue to lick at his own oozing cock-head. He grinned at me as he did so and then leaned forwards to lick mine, lapping at my sticky precum as it seeped from my slit. After contrasting my taste with his own, he went back to his own cock and fed more hungrily at his own juices.

I smiled and said, “I’ll show you a trick too!” and leaned forwards and did the same, although I was able to get my lips almost completely around my cock-head. I nuzzled it with my lips, tasting my own salty precum oozing from the puckered slit.

He laughed and pulled away from his own cock, allowing me to lean over and suck the tip of it.

“I’ve never been with a bloke who can do canlı bahis siteleri this – apart from my brother Garth,” he told me as I tasted his more acrid ooze. “Guys I’ve shown it to have usually been amazed.”

I pulled back from him. “It’s a bit of a party trick, but as I don’t really like the sensation of being sucked, it’s not something I do regularly.”

He nodded. “Garth can go a step further and twist his dick around so he could get the tip of it into his own arse. There’s no way I can do that, though. Can you?”

“I’ve never tried,” I said, marvelling at the concept. “He can actually fuck himself?”

Bradley grinned. “I wouldn’t quite describe it like that. The trouble is, as soon as he gets the end of it in, the shaft gets too hard and it pops out. But I’ve seen guys online who are flexible enough, even when they’re aroused, to work up a rhythm and actually cum inside themselves.”

“Wow!” I laughed. I’d have to try that for myself when I had some time to myself; I was certainly long enough to do it but, like Bradley’s brother, I would probably grow too hard to keep it inside for very long. I’d have fun finding out; I wondered why such an obvious idea had never occurred to me before.

Bradley shifted his position, saying he was going to show me how he liked to suck himself when he was alone. He lay back on the bed and grabbed the backs of his thighs with his hands.

As he was manoeuvring himself, I asked him how long he’d been self-fellating like this.

“From pretty soon after I started wanking – Garth and I would sometimes do it together,” he grunted, pulling his legs over the top of himself so that his cock was pointing down towards his face. “When I first started, I assumed everyone could do it.”

He directed his erection towards his mouth and reached up to hungrily devour the head of it. In this position, with his back so arched, he could get the top few inches into his mouth and, unlike me, seemed to relish the sensation of being sucked, even if it was by his own mouth.

He started thrusting his cock in and out of his mouth, making loud slurping noises with his lips as it drove in and out. I watched the shaft of it throbbing and hardening in response, clearly enjoying the feel of being so ardently sucked by its owner, and his heavy balls thumped up and down, slapping against his thighs and the dry part of his shaft.

He looked up at me and, with his cock sliding in and out of his lips, managed a grin. I grinned back, marvelling at his athleticism and technique, and feeling pleased that we were already comfortable enough around one another for him to show me this.

The best aspect of the position, at least from my perspective, was that it splayed his bum-cheeks gratuitously towards me and showed off his arsehole puckering upward in its unrestrained glory. The hair around it was clumped and wet from where I’d rimmed him downstairs, and his anus itself was strikingly larger and redder than mine. This was the hole of an accomplished butt-fucker: the skin around it was stretched and puffy, and the entrance gaped open every time he pushed his cock into his mouth. I hoped, in time, mine would look so conspicuously well-used so that any guy who happened to see me naked would quickly recognise, and hopefully exploit, the fact that my sexual interests weren’t confined to women.

As I looked at his swollen and dilated arsehole, I wondered why Bradley’s girlfriend didn’t suspect his extra-curricular activities with his own gender. Surely she would see, every time he bent down to pull on his underwear when he was getting dressed, that his pucker had been quite prominently enlarged and enjoyed by a long succession of thrusting cocks. Maybe she thinks all guys sport buttholes which have thick, reddened rings around them and that it’s normal for a guy’s hole to be stretched open to a girth which is curiously the same size as the shafts of other men’s erections.

“Your arsehole is beautiful,” I told him as he sucked furiously at his own length as it drove back and forth with a steadily quickening rhythm. His face creased in another smile as the thick shaft of his cock thrust with increasing force and depth in and out of his outstretched lips. His eyes held mine for a second as I smiled back at him, fascinated to watch how he was becoming carried away in showing off his talent to me.

His whole curved body was a writhing mass of movement, pulsating to the beat of his mouth being roughly and uncompromisingly fucked by his own engorged length His cheeks were becoming flushed, his forehead moist, and his inflated arsehole was clenching and unclenching in steady surges. And still his cock plunged back and forth, ceaselessly and unremittingly pleasuring itself like the body of a snake being consumed over and over by its own mouth.

I licked my finger and reached forwards to run it around the bloated and puckering ring of his anus and he moaned encouragingly, clearly wanting me to do more.

I stroked his balls with my other hand, steadying them as his spit-slick shaft slammed in and out of his mouth, and gently pressed the tip of my middle finger into his easily yielding hole. It swallowed me voraciously, his muscles squeezing me in spasms, and I plunged it right into his hot sticky tunnel, right up to the knuckle.

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