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Cumming and Going

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 04 Aug 2002 0 comments
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Cumming and Going by I've known Michael for 10 years, we'd travelled Europe together, worked together and slept together, but never had sex together. It's always been between us, we've discussed it and laughed about it, but never broke the barriers down and enjoyed it together. Until a few months ago when Michael was leaving his job. Several of us took him to a bar after work and as he lived some distance from the city, we paid for a hotel room for him to stay overnight. The evening went well, he was happy to drink too much and by ten all the other guys except me had left. He and I sobered up a little as we talked about old times, then I told him I would miss seeing him at work each day and we both went very quiet for a time. He suggested we go to his hotel room and raid the mini bar. I agreed and said, only half joking, "Can I stay the night?" He surprised me by quickly saying "yes" - he said he'd been about to ask me if I would and make this a night we'll both remember. Walking through the lobby, I felt self conscious, as if I was on a honeymoon! At his room he poured two drinks then indicated the bed and said for me to get in - he was going to the bathroom first. I undressed, already with a throbbing hard on, tossing up whether to leave my boxers on or not. I decided they made little difference and took them off. I lay on the bed with just a sheet over me and waited, my hard cock making an obvious lump in the sheet. When Michael returned he looked at the lump and smiled. He walked over, sat on the bed and put his hand on the sheet and squeezed my cock through it. He did this for several minutes, not speaking. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his grip. Then he surprised me by moving on to the bed and right on top of me. I loved the feel of his rough clothes through the sheet, his weight and his smell. He moved his hips so that my cock was rubbing against his pants with the sheet still between us. Then he leaned forward and kissed me on the neck, a warm, gentle touch that made me shiver. He moved the sheet off my shoulders a little and kissed my chest down to the nipple, which he licked with his rough, wet tongue, then rubbed with his teeth and then between his fingers while his mouth went to do the same on the other side. He peeled the sheet down to my waist and moved his hand down over the hairs on my stomach to the edge of the sheet, then under and down one thigh and slowly up the other untill he reached my balls. His hand felt so good when he grabbed them, as if some mystical bonding had taken place - he still hadn't said a word and he was still fully clothed. At this point I remember wishing to myself that this had all happened years ago! Michael lifted the sheet away - my cock stood up to greet him and he lowered his mouth to the base of the shaft and began to lick it with long, wet strokes from the hairs up to the head which started to overflow with precum. He licked until my cock was shining and red and very, very hard. I could only watch and tell myself it was real, not one of my fantasies. Then he looked at my face and started to lick his hand, it was dripping with his spit as he lowered it onto my cock. I remember him watching my face and smiling as he moved his fist slowly up and slowly down. In my dreams it would have lasted for hours, in reality it had to end, and as he increased the speed he tugged at my balls until cum just shot out - spurt after spurt globbed on my chest and stomach as he kept pumping out every drop. He wiped me with a towel, spending extra time on my softening cock and my balls then lay down on the bed beside me. I wanted to return the favour and reached for him, but he stopped my hand and opened his pants himself and pulled out his own cock. Michael was uncut and he was soft. He pulled the foreskin up and let it flop down - his cock looked so small and shrivelled. I must have looked stunned as he said "sorry" and put it away. We talked then and he told me how he had always wanted sex between us, but knew he would have trouble getting hard and worried that I would feel hurt and let down. He poured more drinks, I got dressed, we talked a little more, then I wished him all the best and left. In the taxi going home I didn't know what to feel - the sex had been as good as I could have imagined it to be and worth waiting all those years for. But I felt so sorry for my friend, regretting that I'd left him, half wanting to return and just hug him for the rest of the night. But I didn't. That was a year ago, I still miss seeing him at work but we've talked on the phone since and he seems OK. I've got over it too. In fact I keep wondering whether if I sent him another invitation to the hotel room along with a packet of Viagra.....