While My Wife's Away

by James Lear

  ‘I’m going to fuck you.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve never been fucked before, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You want it, don’t you? You want my big hard cock up your arse.’

  ‘Yes. I want it.’

  He was prepared – there were condoms and lube by the bed.

  ‘How do you want it?’

  ‘I don’t care. I just want you inside me.’

  ‘It’s going to hurt.’

  ‘I don’t care. Just fuck me, Joe. Fuck me.’

  His knees were buckling, and there was so much juice coming out of his cock that I thought for a moment he’d actually come without touching himself. I scooped some of it up on my fingers, and started working them around his hairy arse. It took me a while to get through the fur to the hole, but I knew when I’d found it; Paul made a sound like an engine, a huge guttural gasp that ended in a high-pitched moan. His hole was tight and resistant at first, and it took some pushing to get even the tip of my finger into him. Once he was breached, he opened up like a flower. Inside he was as smooth as silk, as soft as marshmallow, as hot as hell, and all the other clichés that occur at those time.

  He was going to feel great on my cock, my little fucktoy, my little Paul.

  One finger. Two fingers. He was still standing, using his thigh muscles to ride up and down, rubbing his hands over his furry torso, watching me from under heavy, half-closed eyelids.

  I pulled out, lay back and held my rigid dick. ‘Come on then. Get me ready.’

  He was beside me in a flash, caressing my cock, kissing it, licking it, and he would have started sucking it again. Perhaps he was scared of what was to come, and thought to delay the inevitable.

  ‘No.’ I pushed him back. ‘It’s time you got fucked. Get the condom on me. Now.’

  He obeyed. I was sheathed and lubricated by nimble, if slightly shaking, fingers.

  ‘Now sit on it.’

  He threw one muscular thigh across me, placed a knee on either side of my waist, and reached round to guide me to my goal.

  Before I entered him, just as I felt the first kiss of his arselips opening to me, Paul said ‘I love you.’

  ‘And I fucking love you,’ I said, and I felt him slide down my rock-hard shaft until his buttocks connected with my pelvis. I was inside him.

  ‘Oh, Jesus. Oh, oh Christ.’ His eyes were screwed up, his mouth distorted. I know what it feels like, that first time, like a burning knife inside you.

  But he didn’t get off. He waited, I waited, and when he was ready he started to move. Slow and small at first, but as he got used to the feeling he abandoned caution and started to ride me. His cock was almost pissing precum over my belly; I wondered if there would be anything left when he finally shot.

  Paul kept up a sort of running commentary on what was happening to him. ‘Oh God, you’re inside me… you’re fucking me… oh your cock is so hard inside my fucking arse… oh yes, fuck me harder man, ram that cock into me’ – as if he had to keep persuading himself that this was really happening. He must have dreamed of it so often that the reality was almost swamped by the fantasy. But this was real, all right – skin and muscle and blood and bone, pain and friction, pleasure, sweat, breathing.

  I wanted to give Paul the full tour, so I stopped thrusting and waited for him to slow down a bit. His eyes opened, a puzzled expression as if something was wrong.

  ‘On your knees, boy.’

  He jumped off, making my cock plop out of his wet hole, and leapt into position, head down, tail up, knees apart. For someone who claimed to be a virgin he certainly knew what to do. I was back inside him in seconds, no hesitation this time, I lined up and pushed. He gasped as if winded, and I went straight into full throttle fucking. His hand was on his cock, and from the speed at which his arm was working I imagined he must be pretty close. Oh well – let him come. It’s not going to stop me. And boys that age soon recover. He’ll probably be hard again before I’ve even finished.

  I was right. Paul’s arse tightened around me, clutching in spasms as he shot his load over the bedspread and he bucked his body up and down like an unbroken colt. I pushed down on his shoulder blades, pressing his face into the bed, and fucked him even harder. Now his moaning was even louder, a mixture of pleasure and pain, the almost unbearable sensations that follow an orgasm. I’ve known men who couldn’t bear to have their cocks touched directly after coming; multiply that sensitivity by a hundred and you’ll get some idea of what Paul was going through, getting the fuck of his young life while his cock and arse were saturated with sensation to the point of agony. I’ll say this for him: he took it like a man, never tried to stop me, and if he was in pain he hid it well.

  I carried on until I was about to come, then pulled out. His arse and back were rosy red from the friction of my body. I pulled him up by his arm and flipped him over; his torso was plastered with spunk, the hair matted, and yes, his cock was hard again. Perhaps it had never gone down.

  ‘On your back. Legs up.’ I grabbed his raised knees and pulled him towards the edge of the bed. I put pillows under him until his hole was level with my cock, and I was in again. This wasn’t going to take long; suddenly every nerve-ending in my cock was alive, sending messages to my brain. I had that feeling of growing rage, the thunderstorm that starts somewhere behind the forehead and discharges through the cock. While I fucked Paul I leaned over and played with his pink tits, his lips, sticking two fingers into his mouth, then three, then four, stretching his mouth wide around my hand. He was wanking again.

  ‘You ready?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Here goes.’

  I started unloading inside him, thrusting so hard I was nailing him to the bed, and he kept up with me, gasping in a high, incredulous voice as he came again. Not much spunk this time, but that didn’t matter – his arse opened even wider, and my dick seemed to go right into his guts.

  Afterwards I lay on top of him until my breathing returned to normal and my cock started to soften. We kissed, and manoeuvred ourselves on to the bed to lie together, holding one another as the semen dried on his body.

  Of course he was hard again within ten minutes, and I wasn’t far behind him.

  ‘I need to piss,’ he said. ‘Come on.’ He led me by the hand into the bathroom – a shower cubicle, a toilet and a basin with barely room to stand between them.

  Paul stood at the toilet, with my arms around him from the rear, holding his stiff cock in his hand, but nothing would come. ‘Shit. I really, really need to go.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘You first, then.’

  I stood beside him and pointed my semi-erect dick at the bowl. I had more luck: a thick stream of piss curled out of the end, hit the toilet seat and splashed on to the floor before I could guide it to the water.

  ‘Let me hold it, Joe.’

  Paul took my cock in his hand, his fingers playing in the stream of piss. He stared down at it as if this was a miracle. He rested his head on my shoulder.

  ‘Come on, then,’ I said when I was finished. ‘Your turn. Piss for me.’

  ‘I can’t. It’s going to go everywhere.’

  ‘Come here, then.’

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shower. My arms were around him, my hands running up and down his firm, hairy body, grabbing his arse. ‘Now just let it go.’

  Piss started shooting out of Paul’s cock, hitting the tiles, the curtain, the floor, dribbling down his legs. I turned him towards me, kissed him deep on the mouth and let him piss against me. My finger found his hole, and as the last few drops trickled over my thighs I slipped into him again, his hole still slippery and loose, and I knew that I would spend the rest of the night, as long as my stamina lasted, inside him.

  12

  PAUL WAS IN LONDON FOR THREE MORE NIGHTS, AND ON TWO OF them I snuck out to see him again. Angie assumed that I was seeing ‘my friend,’ and I didn’t disabuse her of the notion. Nobody needed
to know. Paul would leave London, and that would be that. A fling that we would both remember, nothing more. No expectations. What happened in that small, airless room was sealed off from the rest of the world. I fucked him and fucked him and fucked him, and when I thought I couldn’t fuck any more, I fucked him again. I felt as if we were on a journey somewhere—tunnelling down to the center of the earth, to the promised land, to perdition, I never really thought about the destination. I knew that I was hooked, addicted, obsessed by Paul, that I wanted to fuck him forever, and during those intense moments inside him, time seemed to stop, everything was suspended, we stepped into eternity.

  That’s what a tight, furry arse can do to a man. Paul had fucked my brain just as effectively as I had fucked his hole.

  But of course, we weren’t on a journey, we hadn’t stepped outside time, and what we did in that hotel room had repercussions beyond the beige walls and the overused mattress.

  The summer was coming to an end, and the month of waiting for Adrian was almost up. We kept in touch by text and occasional phone calls, and I told him that everything was on track, that I’d obeyed all three rules and was ready to commit myself to a relationship with him on the appointed date. No, I hadn’t looked at another man. I hadn’t thought of anyone but him. He put me to the test, he had every reason to do so, and I triumphed, like the hero of a romance.

  A couple of days before the deadline, it was my son’s nineteenth birthday, and Angie organized a family dinner party to celebrate. We never said this to each other, but we knew this was the end of our lives together—Alex would leave for university at the end of the month, Nicky was starting her final year, and Angie and I were going our separate ways. New beginnings for everyone, and with every new beginning, there is an ending. The kids knew, but we hadn’t discussed it. I suppose Angie had answered all the basic questions. Nobody asked me anything.

  I should have figured out that something was amiss when I noticed the table was set for five, but it didn’t really register—I was too busy making small talk with Alex, asking him about his courses, his accommodation, what sports he planned to do. I’d be driving him up there, so we had lots to discuss about packing and so on. Plenty of distractions. Nicky hadn’t arrived yet, she was out catching up with friends and was expected any moment.

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll be Nicky,’ Angie called from the kitchen. ‘Let her in, would you?’

  I grumbled something about not bothering to use her keys and went into the hall.

  The shape I could see through the textured glass was not my daughter.

  My stomach cramped, and I thought I was going to be sick.

  ‘Hi, Joe.’ Paul, of course, was smiling and looking at me with those big brown puppy-dog eyes. ‘Nicky here yet?’

  ‘No, she’s . . . I’m not sure.’

  He walked past me into the house. ‘Hi Alex. Hi Mrs. Heath.’

  Angie came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Hello Paul. Please call me Angie.’ They kissed each other on the cheek—familiar, affectionate. Part of the family. I’d walked into a movie halfway through, and I didn’t understand the plot. Everything was wrong. The floor seemed to be tilting, the walls sliding.

  ‘I didn’t know you were coming, Paul.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ The flashing white teeth, the easy confidence. ‘Nicky asked me ages ago, and as I was down in London for a conference.’

  ‘Didn’t you mention it when the two of you went out for dinner the other night?’

  Shit. Caught out. What am I supposed to have done? That’s right. I took pity on a stranger in London, we had a drink, and a quick bite to eat, that’s what I had told Angie. ‘I suppose you must have told me, Paul. Sorry, brain like a sieve.’

  ‘That’s OK.’

  He sat on the sofa next to Alex, and they started chatting about computer games. I saw him, now, as my children’s peer, separated from me by decades, by a generation, by social taboos. Had those nights in his hotel been a dream? Was I losing my mind? Is this the same person, sitting here very much at home in my family life, chatting to my son, the same person who sucked my cock, who took me up his arse again and again as if his life depended on it? Who told me that he loved me? Who stared into my eyes while I came inside him and told me that he fucking loved me?

  ‘Drinks, anyone?’ I needed something to do. My hands were beginning to shake, and my voice sounded weird in my head. ‘Alex? Nicky?’

  ‘Let’s ask our guest first, Joe,’ said Angie in a rather schoolmistressy voice. ‘Paul, what’ll you have?’

  ‘A cold beer, if you’ve got one.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Alex. Oh Christ, they’re becoming buddies.

  ‘Not sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll have a look in the fridge.’ There were a couple of bottles in there, but obviously not enough. ‘Tell you what, I’ll just nip down to the shop and get some more. Won’t be a second.’ I needed to get out, and a merciful fate had thrown this opportunity my way. I could easily get away for half an hour without attracting attention. Long enough to compose myself, to recover from the sickening shock.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Paul, springing to his feet. ‘I left my toothbrush in the hotel and I need a new one.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ve got one you can use,’ said Angie.

  ‘It’s OK.’ He put his coat on. ‘Ready when you are, Joe.’

  There was no escape. I picked up my car keys. ‘Won’t be long.’

  I waited until we were halfway down the road before I said anything.

  ‘What the fuck is going on, Paul?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You told me that you and Nicky had split up.’

  ‘Yeah. Well you wouldn’t have fucked me if I told you we were still together.’

  ‘And you are together, are you?’

  ‘Yes. Of course we are.’

  I looked sideways at him. He was slouched in his seat, hands folded in his lap, looking very pleased with himself.

  ‘Jesus Christ. I could fucking kill you.’

  ‘But you won’t.’ His voice was calm.

  ‘What? Why the fuck shouldn’t I? You little bastard. You lied to me.’

  ‘You got what you wanted. You fucked me.’

  ‘What I wanted? Good God, Paul, it was you who wanted it.’

  ‘And who’s going to believe that?’

  He turned to look at me, the threat in his eyes obvious.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I just wonder what people would think if they found out.’

  ‘Nobody’s going to find out.’

  ‘That’s right. Not if you keep on fucking me.’

  ‘What?’ This couldn’t be happening.

  ‘We could do it now. Park the car somewhere.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  ‘No.’ He reached over and squeezed my cock, which responded instantly to his touch. ‘Stop the car. I can suck you off at least.’

  ‘Fuck off.’ I hit his hand hard.

  ‘Stop the car and get your cock out, or I will tell Nicky everything.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I fucking would.’ His voice was a spiteful hiss now, his eyes narrow, and he grabbed my balls hard.

  ‘Shit!’ The car swerved. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  We’d reached the supermarket. The car park was nearly empty at this time of the evening. ‘Park over at the far end.’

  What could I do? I wanted to cry, to run away. I also wanted to feel his lying mouth on my cock. I wanted to fuck his throat, to make him choke, to shoot my sperm into him.

  I stopped and turned off the engine. Paul was already unzipping my fly. I didn’t resist. I knew it was inevitable.

  ‘This can’t go on, Paul.’

  ‘Yes it can. It has to.’

  ‘It’s insane.’ My prick was out now, painfully hard. Paul caressed it, brushing it with his fingertips. He knew exactly how to turn me on.

  ‘No it isn’t.
It’s what we both want.’

  I couldn’t speak.

  ‘Tell me you don’t want it.’ He gripped my cock at the base, making a ring of thumb and forefinger. I felt like I was going to shoot. My mouth was dry. No words would come out.

  ‘You see? You want it as much as I do. We’re going to keep on doing this. You can come up to see me, and I can come down here to see you. We can get a hotel again. It’s easy. That way, nobody needs to find out.’

  ‘Paul, please.’

  But his lips were on me now, and as my cock slid into the familiar warm wetness of his mouth, I put my hands on his head and caressed him until I came, pumping my jizz into his receptive throat.

  We were business-like afterward.

  ‘Come on then. Beers and a toothbrush.’

  We discussed the best brands, the best value. We had a cheery word for the young woman at the checkout. We drove home quickly and in silence.

  The evening went well. I suppose I drank a little too much, but that was preferable to having a full-scale panic attack. I couldn’t eat much; the sight of Paul sitting close to Nicky, giving and receiving little caresses and signs of intimacy, nauseated me. If I had been a smoker, I’d have gone through a pack of 200.

  I helped Angie clear the plates and volunteered to do the washing up.

  ‘You sleeping here tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK. You’ll have to come in with me then. Nicky needs her bed.’

  ‘What about Paul?’

  ‘He’ll have to make do with the sofa bed.’

  ‘They’re not sharing then?’

  ‘I don’t think so, do you? I’m not quite comfortable with that yet. I suppose we should be. What do you think?’

  I wanted to laugh hysterically. ‘I think they’d have trouble fitting into that little bed. It’s barely big enough for one.’

  Angie lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I bet they’d manage. We did, didn’t we?’

  I felt faint, as if I’d got up too quickly from some strenuous floor exercise at the gym, and had to hold onto the edge of the sink. ‘Yeah, yeah.’

  ‘You OK, Joe?’

  ‘A bit pissed, I think. Sorry. Not used to it these days.’