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2010/10/30

Married Men: Part I

There was a time when I was dead set against fooling around with married men. And by that, I mean those married to women. Those gay guys who cheat on each other? As long as there is an understanding between them, I’m cool with it. Hell, I’d even give it up for those gay guys on the down low. But, married men? In that situation there’s a third party involved who, in all likelihood, has no idea her husband is beating the bushes at the local park hoping to unload in some willing faggot’s mouth. I realize there are probably those who enter a marriage knowing exactly what they are getting into, but I suspect those cases are few and far between. More than likely the guy is leading a double life, getting away with it, and very pleased with himself for doing so.

For me, for the longest time, this remained a moral dilemma. What if these men bring something home to the wife in the form of an STD? Keep in mind that these men consort with other promiscuous men. It is all done covertly, and usually quite quickly – so discussions about status, safe sex, testing, etc. are probably not the highest priority on their list. Because of that I believe these men are more likely to bring something home and unwittingly pass it along to their wife. The wife is probably clueless and has no idea as to why her face is suddenly aflame with cold sores or why it hurts when she pees. The idea of there being this faceless, unwitting victim bothered me for the longest time and, in a way, it still does. However, the part of me that likes sex overruled that part of me that wanted to be on the right side of this particular issue. Why? Because the sex is usually good. Real good.

Last week I happened to visit a certain park where I did not spend anytime this summer. Location-wise it is a tad inconvenient and the trolls that work it have been there so long I am surprised I am not on a first name basis with all of them. Still, every once in awhile someone new will stumble into their midst and I like to be there when they do. Who knows, maybe this fresh meat has been hanging around there for quite some time and I just never had the pleasure of running into them. If it’s new to me, it’s new to me.

Tuesday, I leave work early in order to keep an appointment. After the appointment I have no desire to return to the office, so I decide to check out the action at this particular park. As I sit in my car another vehicle pulls up next to me. From what I can make out, the driver is quite a handsome man, however, due to the glare our car windows I can’t be certain. We play the “Are You Looking at Me?” game for a good ten minutes. I am pretty sure he is checking me out as I change, in the front seat of my car, out of my work clothes and into some jogging gear, but can’t be sure. Eventually he drives off and my heart falls the tiniest bit. I’ve learned that if something doesn’t happen in the first fifteen minutes of cruising, you might as well pack it up and go home. While hoping that he changes his mind and returns, I decide not to hold my breath. Instead I get my stuff together and hit the trails.

I follow a winding trail back to a certain section where I know there will be some action. It is a bright, dry, cool, fall day, so weather is not an issue. In fact, it is so nice, I eventually strip down to just a t-shirt and jogging pants. I always go commando when hiking around, cruising, so I’m definitely feeling the elements when in the corner of a small clearing, near a fallen tree, I make out two figures. Thinking they might welcome the help of a third, I move closer. But once close enough to make out their features; I quickly realize that they probably aren’t my cup of tea.

Yes, I’m becoming rather selective, actually choosing quality over quantity. That day – I opt for quality. There is something just-this-side of ogre-ish about one of the dudes, and while the other is a cute, older Hispanic, I choose to let them keep all that fun to themselves. Walking in the opposite direction, I’m about to head over to the other side of the parking lot, when I hear the rustle of leaves. It’s too much of a commotion to be just a squirrel or the wind, so a little investigation is in order. Walking swiftly past me, on an adjoining path, is a darkly, handsome man who bears a passing resemblance to Josh Hopkins, the actor who plays opposite Courtney Cox in “Cougar Town”; in other words, the type that rarely ever gives me the time of day. He glances in my direction, but apparently the sight of me is not enough to slow him down. I know the path he is on winds down past the two men I just walked away from and then circles back to this particular path, so, on a hunch, I walk a bit further on the path I’m on and decide to wait for his return. My hunch? This is the guy who was cruising me earlier in the parking lot.

While waiting, I decide to slip behind a large tree, drop my jogging pants and put on a metal cock ring. Recently I have fallen in love with this particular ring. It requires a bit of baby oil in order to slip my nuts (one at a time) and then the head of my dick through it. Then, grabbing the tip of the head of my dick, I am able to pull the rest of it through. Without the baby oil, I would never get the first ball through it, and even if I did manage both balls, I would risk hurting the skin on my dick without the aid of lube. It took me a few tries I realized that, but since I’ve solved that problem, it has become my cock ring of choice. Just as I’m pulling back on the ring and pulling down on my cock and balls in order to make the fit nice and tight, I hear someone approaching on the path. The leaves are down and it’s impossible to walk anywhere in the woods without creating a commotion. I pull up my jogging pants and step out from behind the tree. It’s the dark and handsome stranger, as predicted.
This time I make a point of saying ‘hi’ as he passes by, which barely elicits a response on his part and doesn’t slow him down one iota. Watching as he disappears behind a line of shrubs and trees, I weigh my options and resolve to stand my ground. I listen carefully to the sound the leaves make as he works his way along the path until, suddenly… I hear nothing. Maybe he’s stopped. Or maybe he’s run out of earshot or leaves. I wait, my heart pounding just a bit. Soon, over the top of the brush, what to my wandering eye should appear? But the moussed-do of Josh Hopkins’ doppelganger.

He moves slowly back to the crossroads of the two paths and stands, looking at me. Normally, my first instinct is to play it cool, just in case the other dude’s a cop, but seeing as how he just stumbled onto the Ogre and the Hispanic in action and didn’t bother to arrest them, I am thinking it’s safe to conclude he’s looking for a little something something. Could I be that little something something? Please? I notice that we are wearing almost identical clothing – same jogging pants (his are black, mine grey), same t-shirts (mine white, his pale blue). I also spot the beginnings of a wicked smile breaking across his handsome mug as I slowly slip my hand down the inside of my jogging pants and adjust my quickly-coming-to-attention rod.

It’s at this moment that an older, silver-haired gentlemen appears on the path to the right of “Josh”. We both freeze as he slowly passes, moving onto the same path that Josh had circled around previously. He, too, will stumble upon the Ogre and the Hispanic and then make his way back around. I watch warily as he disappears. While he isn’t a bad looking sort, I‘m in the mood for a little one on one time with Josh; that is, if Josh is interested.

He moves towards me and from the look of the little something that precedes him, I am pretty sure he is indeed interested. Did I say “little” something? Oh… little has nothing to do with it. Of course, it’s cloaked by the material of his jogging pants, but it still looks mighty jaw-dropping. Bravely, I grab on to his lusty prong and guide him to behind the tree. Once there, he grabs hold of dick and we take turns squeezing more life into each other’s engorging chambers. Crouching before him, I slide his jogging pants down just enough to free up his member. It’s a glorious 8.5 inches and thick as hell. My lips expertly wrap around its large head as my tongue starts working my saliva onto the underside of his shaft. This is going to take some doing and my mind immediately contemplates halting the proceedings long enough to take a hit off of the bottle of poppers burning a hole in my pocket.

But I don’t. And soon the silver-haired dude rounds the bend and spends the next ten minutes staring in our general direction. He doesn’t step any closer, so I figure we’re cool to go. I work on Josh’s dick for a bit and then decide to stand up and let him have a go at mine if he wants. Instead, much to my surprise, he wants to kiss. And what a kiss it is! He’s good and I’m a bit blown away at how passionate he’s getting. After ravishing my lips, he kisses my neck and then tongues my ear, making me moan like a conchita in heat. The entire time he’s kissing me, I’ve got one of my hands wrapped around his fuck stick at the same time he’s grasping my naked rod. In spite of the fact that my eyes are continually being sent to the back of my head out of joy, I want suck more dick. I’m about to kneel down and give some more love to that fat piece of man meat when we are both startled to hear the sound of a child. On the path below us, where we can see them, but they have yet to spot us, a couple and a child of about eight are walking, talking, and enjoying the autumn leaves.

Both Josh and I pull up our jogging pants as fast as possible. Josh crouches down low by the tree as I slip to it’s other side. We watch as the family below cluelessly passes us by. I wait for Josh to stand before approaching again. He is majorily tenting the front of his jogging pants and I am relieved to learn that skittish is one thing he’s not. We smile at each other and resume kissing, but I am feeling distracted. The silver-haired man has moved in closer and I am concerned that he is going to want to join in the fun soon. I can’t help but keep looking over my shoulder, from side to side, due to the presence of silver-haired man standing behind us and our recent visitors. Josh picks up on my vibe and, surprising me once again, says, “I’d rather be alone with you.” Well, melt my heart, he needn’t say it twice. With a wicked smile, a last glance over my shoulder, and a bit of laughter escaping my well-kissed lips, I make my way down the hill to the main road where that family had just been walking. I know a place.

Josh is fast on my heels and soon we are walking side by side along the well-worn road. Both our dicks are hard and making their presence very obvious. In my glee, I reach over and grab hold of his and play with it through the cloth. Without prodding, he returns the favor, that is, until we realize we are being walked up on by a couple of men. As they draw near we both realize that they are an older, gay couple, so while we do our best to conceal our hard ons, I take a bit of a secret thrill in knowing that, despite my best efforts, I totally fail. They’re onto us, so thank goodness they’re gay. Once they pass, Josh makes a comment about me showing off and I laugh. Caught. Guilty as charged. I grab his dick again and ask him if he wants to go follow me to the other side of the parking lot. He agrees.

As we walk he tells me that he is married and that he only plays safely, blah, blah, blah. I commend him for his honesty and carefulness and compliment him on his kissing skills. We’re about to head down the road that leads to the other side of the park when I suddenly remember that there is a place nearby where I have fooled around before, undetected. I see the path, and using Josh’s dick like a steering wheel, reset his course. The under brush is a bit sparse due to the time of year, but I manage to find a very secluded spot between a set of low hanging branches of a tree and a group of very tall, dense weeds. I pull out my poppers and drop my pants. Josh moves in and resumes our kiss, which has retained all of its magic. He starts pulling at my t-shirt, so I whip it off dutifully, carefully keeping my hat in place. But Josh is having none of that. He whips my cap off my head and runs his hands over the top of my chrome dome. I’m always slightly relieved when a dude sees my baldness as a turn-on. We kiss again, as my hands cup his face and then find their way to his hair. “Don’t mess the top of my head,” he says. I see what he means. He has a lot of hair product in it and I can tell that he has spent a good amount of time getting his spikes to stand up just so. Rather than risk distracting him, I abandon his hair all together.

My hands move the waistband of his jogging pants down, until our dicks are flesh upon flesh. Pressing my body into his, the heat of our dicks meshing is magnificent, matched only by the intensity of our kissing on this cool, autumn day. Then I crouch down before him, taking his big, fat cock into my mouth. It is so thick, that I am not sure I can actually deep throat him. I reach for the poppers, take a big hit, and resume sucking, determined to test the limits of my throat. It is a super tight squeeze and I almost back off, out of fear of causing him pain. But somehow I do manage to get his dick past the narrowest part of my throat. Josh lets out a sexy moan as I hold him there. I have a feeling he doesn’t find many cocksuckers who are able to swallow his whole cock. My mouth is down to the base of his cock as I struggle to breath through my nose. Playing with his balls a bit with one hand, I reach around with the other to check out his ass cheeks.

Josh is in good shape that is damn sure. He is probably in his mid 40’s, but he sure looks good. My hands begin to run over his body, as my eyes water from the pressure of his thick dick lodged in my throat. Sensing I want more, Josh lets his jogging pants drop to his ankles and lifts up the bottom of his t-shirt. My busy hands have my mind racing and suddenly I realize that I have forgotten to breathe through my nose. I pull of his dick and gasp for air. However, the moment his dick leaves my mouth, I realize I want it back exactly where it was, as it was. As quickly as I can, I once again manage to push his dick past the point of resistance in order to luxuriate in the sensation of my throat being filled with cock. I repeat this same process five more times, each time it gets a little easier and a little harder. The entire time, Josh simply leans back and closes his eyes in a repose of ecstasy.

Even though I’m crouched before him, I resist the urge to offer up my ass. Number one: other than grabbing on to the mounds of my ass as we pressed our dicks together, he hasn’t made any indication that he’s interested in fucking me. Number two: I don’t have any condoms with me; and there’s a reason for that. Number three: my ass is not prepared to receive visitors at the moment, so it’s best that I not push it out there where it might grab his attention, because I have no intention of giving it up at the moment.

Now, when playing outdoors it is always wise, no matter how lost in the moment you become, to keep aware of the amount of time passing. Trysts in dicey situations like this are referred to as fast fucks for a reason – you have to be fast or you risk getting caught. Sensing that a chunk of time has passed, I decide to give up on my desire to get him off using only my throat and resort to my favorite hooker trick; the suck and roll-over jerk. That’s when you grasp the base of his dick with one hand as you go down on his dick. As your mouth pulls back off the dick and your hand follows up the shaft, you quickly run your saliva slicked up palm over the top of his dick before moving your hand back down the length of his shaft to the base of his dick as your mouth again engulfs his dick. Quickly repeat and repeat and repeat. Hookers use this method to get a john off as quickly as possible. It also comes in handy when wrestling with the well-endowed in the great outdoors. Whenever I switch to this method, it never ceases to elicit some kind of verbal response from the dude I’m working on and Josh is no exception. He loves it, and his love keeps getting the tiniest bit louder with each stroke. Soon he announces that he’s going to come. I keep up the suck and roll-over bit until I sense that his eruption is eminent. Then I drop my hand and jam my throat down as far as I’m comfortably able onto the full length of his dick. I just love feeling the wild pulse and expansion of a dude’s shaft as they unleash in my mouth. Once the first three squirts are history, I begin sucking like a vacuum in order to help all that love cream find its way into my mouth and down my throat.

Once Josh is completely spent, I get back on my feet. My big, old, cock-ringed dick is just aching for release. I know this game all too well, and have no expectation that Josh will volunteer to help me out in any way. Surprisingly, he does cup my balls as I jerk my own, which is something I really enjoy. This puts me over the edge, fast, and my white goo is soon decorating the foliage. We put ourselves back together, both flush with the exhilaration of our exertion. Our small talk is very small, our grins huge. Knowing that discretion is always key to ending a successful tryst with a married man, I stay behind as Josh makes his way up the path, back to the parking lot. He glances over his shoulder and gives me the wistful look of one who knows all too well that they have to get back to their real life and the real world.

I doubt I’ll ever see him again, but that won’t stop me from hoping. Good kissers are hard to find.

However, married men, are not…

End Part I
Next Week: Married Men, Part II: Push, Push, In the Bush

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