hole. He pushed. It sunk inside really easily and without any pain. As he started to stretch me, each plunge went just a little further into me. I felt his hand tentatively stretch around and very softly grip my cock. He stroked it very gently up and down as his cock started to really pick up speed inside my arse.

“This is so fucking wonderful,” he said, “and to think I have been wasting my cum up some slut’s cunt all these years.”

His dirty talk had me close to cumming. His wanking technique was not the best but what little movement he was doing was sufficient to bring me to the brink. I begged him to cum in me and he took both his hands to my hips. I quickly replaced his hand on my cock with my own, to try to coincide our orgasms.

“Oh shit, I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming up a queer’s arse,” he shouted!

He wasn’t the only one. My semen felt like boiling water churning from my balls, the full length of my cock and then exploding almost painfully out of the slit in the top to spray across my leather chair like some water cannon. His cock was a full eight inches embedded inside me and had stopped moving as I felt the veins on the side of it pumping as his cum fired into me filling the rubber wrapped around it. When he pulled out, the quantity in the rubber teat on the end was more than I had ever seen in a condom from one orgasm.

He stumbled to his feet, with his trousers wrapped around his ankles and surprised me by lifting me under the arms, to my feet, turning me and kissing me fully on the lips. His tongue entered my mouth and his lips covered mine. His hand went behind my head and he forced my mouth on to his.

“Please tell me I can do this again,” he begged.

You bet,” I said.

He did too and we had a frenetic three-month love affair, meeting every week until one of his children saw us together one night and started to ask him some questions. It scared the living daylights out of him and I was dumped with one quick telephone call. C’est lá vie!

4. Chance encounter:

This initial story of a straight guy is a short and a quick one. It was a Saturday afternoon and I had been buying some new clothes. At the back of the city shopping centre was a park and, when the centre was built, the park toilets had been left, even though there were a number of shiny new ones in the shopping mall nearby. I liked the old 1960’s block as there was often a guy or two hanging about for a quick fumble. On this day, my luck was out and after waiting at the urinals for around fifteen minutes, I hauled myself into one of the three cubicles and dropped my pants for a quick wank. The door locks were long gone but a closed door usually meant someone was inside so I concentrated on working myself up to a nice orgasm.

I heard voices and hesitated but hearing a man and a child’s voice, I realised it was a father bringing his child in for a piss or more, so I continued, images of the assistant who had just sold me my new shirt swimming in my head. I was shocked to open my eyes