This is a work of fiction. All persons are intended to be age 18 and above.
When I opened the bathroom door I was pleasantly surprised – make that delightedly surprised.
There stood Rick, the boyishly good-looking husband of Maddie, just shy of his 40th birthday and only now beginning to develop the paunch that afflicts so many men in their middle years. He was deeply tanned, with surfer blonde hair that hung just above his shoulders. About 5-11, 165 pounds, and a nice little bubble butt – which I was now admiring because he had his swimming trunks down around his knees as held himself up against the wall with his left hand, his right circled around his cock, which was poking straight out. It was aimed at the toilet.
He was jerking off.
Beth’s pool party was forgotten. The fact that Rick was married was forgotten. The chill of the AC, the quiet of the house, and my wobbly equilibrium after three beers – all of it was forgotten as I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, locking it.
Rick looked over at me and snickered quietly. He was drunker than I.
“Go use the other bathroom, you pervert,” he said, not really meaning it. I could tell.
“It’s in Beth’s bedroom and I don’t want to go in there. I want to use this bathroom.”
He made a face at me. “This one is occupied.” And then he snickered again. His hand slowly stroked that big, thick cock of his. The balls were nothing to complain about either. They were huge by most adult men’s standards and hung in a nicely hairy, loose scrotum that demanded being cupped by a lewd hand.
I came up behind him and pushed down my own baggy shorts. I grabbed his hips and pushed my cock against his butt.
“Hey, fucker. Cut it out!” he said, a hint of the jitters in his snicker this time.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna stick it up that tight little ass of yours. But I can fuck your crack, can’t I? I mean, I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you guys all those years ago.”
And it was true. I had always had the hots for Rick. The things I wanted to do with him ... TO him ... let’s just say they far exceeded rubbing my cock up and down his butt crack. But if we were gone too long from the party, folks would start wondering what the hell was going on, and I was sufficiently boned – what with the beer and staring at Rick’s crotch – that this wasn’t going to last long.
“Oh God, you’re such a dirty pervert,” he whispered as I pried his butt cheeks apart and buried my cock between them. His ass wasn’t too hairy. It was covered in fine bristles that made you know he did have some pubes down there. And it was hot – even though he’d been swimming, the alcohol and the heat had raised his body temperature so that the valley of his ass was superheated and steamy. I could smell the musk of his asshole. Maybe I’d drop to my knees and give that hole a tongue job.
I molded myself to his back as I thrust my steel-hard dick up and down through the channel of his heat. Without thinking I reached around and grabbed his dick with my right hand and that luscious package of balls with my left, and I began jerking him. He put both hands against the wall and gyrated his hips, allowing my cock to get even deeper into his sweaty, stinking crack, while his cock slide greasily in my grip.