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right over to me without saying a word, leaned down and planted his mouth on mine. We proceeded to make out and wrestle our tongues, while he reached down and grabbed my dick, and I switched my hand from my dick to his, which was also ready to hammer a few nails and had the heft to do so.
    The guy was a great kisser, and he apparently thought I was to, which I am of course, but his moans didn’t hurt my ego. When his mouth left mine, I missed it immediately, until he hopped up on the bench with his feet on either side of me, his hands on the wall behind me, and his huge cock pointed at my face.
    I opened my mouth, let him shove it in, and grabbed his balls. He fucked my throat like a champ, and I didn’t gag at all. When I could feel he was getting close, he increased his rhythm, then pulled out and shot a big load all over my face while I held onto his balls.
    When he was drained, he hopped down from the bench, got down on his knees and swallowed my cock. It only took a few seconds for him to empty my balls into his hungry mouth. He then stood up, leaned in and licked my face clean before planting his mouth on mine again as we tasted our comingled loads in his mouth.
    He then winked, turned around and left.
    I never saw him again.
     
     

A MARRIED MAN
    I should know better. He’s married with kids. He has one car he shares with his wife. He can only stop by for twenty minutes and with only ten minutes notice.
    I get a text. “What’s up?”
    I answer, “My cock.”
    Same crap every time. He isn’t even that good-looking. I mean, he works out and all, but his body is nothing worth writing home to Mom about. If I did write home to Mom, the only thing I could say is he’s Jewish. “Oh, and by the way, he’s married, too, and on the down-low.”
    Good thing my mother is dead. This would kill her for sure. I can hear her now. “What? There are no nice Jewish unmarried boys? You have to go after a closet case?”
    Strangely, I met him on a sex line. Or maybe not so strangely. Where else would he go for sex? Synagogue? Please.
    I remember that first meeting. No head shot, just a body shot. I remember seeing his face for the first time. Ugly is the best way to describe it. He was bald with a big nose and squinty eyes. I let him in anyway. I guess I am just a pig for sex. I could do better, not a lot better, but certainly better than this troll. His dick wasn’t that big, but the cock-ring didn’t hurt.
    I wondered when he put that on. Did his wife see him in it?
    However, the sex was pretty good. It wasn’t the best, but it was worth a repeat. But, a repeat was next to impossible.
    I’d text him, and he’d say he couldn’t get away. Or worse, he was headed to a “buddy’s” house for a three-way. He thought it was cool to tell me that. The man was a bigger slut than I – and an asshole to boot.
    So, why do I continue to stay in touch? I actually erased his number from my phone, only to have him text me for a hook-up out of the blue. And, twice he would contact me, get me all horned up, only to cancel at the last minute because he was dealing with his daughter’s teenage drama of some sort.
    Yet, here I sit.
    It’s Sunday afternoon. I should go to the gym, take a nap, read a book, do something constructive. But, he texted me. Now, I am hard as a rock. I don’t know why. As I said, he’s ugly, he’s married, and more importantly, he’s selfish.
    There is no future with this guy. He isn’t going to leave his wife. And, he certainly isn’t going to leave her for me. I know that. I am not as dumb as I look.
    We have already texted at least ten times. Now, he is having trouble finding an excuse to leave the house with their only car. He asks me for an excuse. What the fuck do I know? I am not married, and I haven’t been in the closet since kindergarten. If I want to get laid, I just get in my car and go.
    Four hours have gone by, and I have wasted an entire afternoon. It is near dinner time. I have to work