marriedjock8:I just let the Facebook invitation for my 20 year high school reunion sit in my inbox
marriedjock8: I just let the Facebook invitation for my 20 year high school reunion sit in my inbox for a while, not sure if it would be worth the trip. But I checked back a couple weeks later, and found the name I was looking for in the attending list. Scott Reilly. And fuck if he didn’t look good. Sure, a little expected salt and pepper in his hair after all these years, but you could tell, even in his g rated Facebook profile pic, the guy had been taking good care of himself. Scott and I weren’t super close in high school, but our circles of friends overlapped enough that at the end of one drunken night of partying our senior year, we found ourselves alone in a park. I pulled my cock out to take a piss and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. I jokingly wagged it at him and said, “wanna suck it?” He didn’t say a word but got down on his knees and gave me the best blowjob of my young life. Admittedly, it was only my 3rd ever at that point. We never talked about it again but I’ve thought about that night many times over the years. And maybe it’s just 15 years of marriage talking, but lately I’ve gotten a little more bi curious, even to the point of jacking to some gay porn from time to time. Who knew if he was thinking the same thing, but seeing his name on that list sealed the deal and I booked my flight the same day. I downplayed it to my wife, and she actually seemed relieved I wasn’t insisting she come. “Just don’t hook up with any old girlfriends,” she smiled. I smiled and told her not to worry about that–that she’s the only woman for me. Truth. Anyway, the party turned out to be a blast, and it was great to see all my old friends. It almost seemed like Scott was avoiding me, but throughout the night, we kept catching each other’s eye while in conversation with other people. And as the night progressed, the gazes lasted longer and started to look…hungrier. I could feel my balls start to churn and my dick start to thicken. By the time we actually found ourselves next to each other, alone at the bar, getting one last drink, I must have been bulging pretty good. Just being this close to him felt electric. He was already standing closer than two married men should, and still no words were spoken. He finally said, in a husky low growl, “Christ man, you look great.” Unspoken, but crystal clear, his whole being said, please make this happen and make it happen right now. We ghosted the party without saying a word. No goodbyes, no last toasts. We walked as fast as we could without drawing attention to ourselves to the hotel elevator. Hit the close door button a thousand times to make sure we’d be alone as we rode up to my room. I backed him into a corner and, breathing hard and fast into his ear, pressed my stubbled jaw against his, our hard cocks grinding together, and was rewarded with a low manly growl back into my own ear. The rest of the night was animalistic, primal, aggressive. He took my thick cock any way I wanted to give it, but always in the manliest way you can take another man’s cock. Never any question of boundaries crossed, no words spoken but the loud, grunted litany of profanity and calls to deity that I now know accompany mansex. Except we were each other’s God that night, sacrificing our bodies in some kind of tribal ritual combining sex, war and passage into a new kind of manhood. Never before had I felt more a Man. And it changed me forever. I miss @marriedjock8 . Anyone know where he went? -- source link