bulbous head pushed against my hole.

I spat on my hand and rubbed the head, holding his cock and steering it into me. That made it slightly easier and the head managed past my entrance. He was keen to get fucking but I was keen to keep my arse intact. He was thrusting like an impatient terrier, all the time whispering randy endearments to this young “girl” he thought he was getting cock up her arse for the first time. His hand wandered around to finger my vagina but I managed to grip and hold it as though trying to press against the pain of entry. He was kissing my neck and holding my shoulder with his left hand as his cock finally made it about 75% of the way in. He started to fuck.

Once he got going, he was like a wild animal. He kept calling me “his teenage slut,” which at least made a 22 year old feel good. His movement became more erratic as he seemed to reach climax until with one massive thrust, his entire cock slipped inside me and he emptied his balls. In typical macho style, he pulled his cock out, ripped of the condom, pulled up his pants as he started walking and mumbled a quick thank you as he left me, bent over, arse in the air, against a tree in the woods.

I bent down, dropped my pants fully, picked up his condom and emptied its contents over my hard cock before using his cum to lubricate a wonderful solo wank. My spunk shot about 5 feet across the ground as my knees buckled. I giggled as the thought “5 points for eroticism and 1 point for technique.”

3. “My wife doesn’t understand me.”

You have seen the drunk and incapable guy having sex without knowing, the even more inebriated guy who thinks he’s just shagged a girl but by far the most common, is the plain horny, straight guy who is not getting any and seeks any opportunity to get sex. Alcohol has the advantage of allowing guys to dip into their innermost mind and find thoughts that were just there for when they wanted to be really dirty, then and drag them to the forefront where suddenly they seem quite logical. Sometimes though, frustration can be as powerful an aphrodisiac as alcohol.

Early Sunday morning or late Saturday night, I waited then gave up waiting for a taxi home after a fun, but fruitless night at a local, well known gay watering hole. Just as I was walking away from the rank, a cab pulled up and the driver said, “You’re my last fare so where are you heading?”

I gave him my address and sat back.

“Were you in the Atlantis,” he asked, referring to the gay bar and club I had just left?

“Yes,” I replied.

“Busy,” he asked?

“Yes, but not busy enough,” I replied.

“I suppose you guys must get horny when you can’t get sex too,” he said and continued, “But you should try being dumped by your wife and left with a teenage son and daughter who take over your house, reject anyone you bring back and generally decide you’re going to become a monk.”

I looked at his back and side as he spoke. He was of Caribbean decent and seemed to be around 37 or so. He was well built, probably over 6 feet and had amazingly white teeth. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans and