POP MY CORK, DAMMIT! (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1. Enjoy! ;-)
Wearing a pair of speedos, I grab a bottle of champagne and sunscreen before heading to the balcony. I notice that ‘dude’ is lying on his chest and I get a full, close-up view of his hard bubble butt. I take a seat on the lounge chair next to him and he lifts his head in my direction.
“There you are! What took you so long?”
“I had to shower and brush my teeth.”
“Pfft. Why bother? You smell great! Alcohol seeps from every pore of my skin when I drink. I didn’t notice that from you when I got up.”
“Well. Thanks for noticing, I guess. But I was sweaty and felt icky. It feels good to start the day with a shower.”
“Glad to hear you’re feeling good! Pop that cork and catch up to me. I’m almost halfway through my bottle of champagne.”
“Yes sir!” I say mockingly like a soldier. I almost did a salute but decided that might be too kitschy. I pop the cork, lay on lounge chair, and drink. Dude decides to rise from his seat, raising his arms to give his body a good, big stretch, and sits down with his Full Monty facing me. It sits straddled between his legs, soft and at least six inches. My mind goes blank (a sudden loss of oxygenated blood!) except for one thought: how big does it get when it’s hard?
“So, birthday boy, you’re thirty now, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” I manage to squeal without making eye contact.
“I’ll be twenty-five in a couple of months. I feel old. I can’t imagine what it’s like to turn thirty.”
“Don’t think about it. Enjoy your twenties. So far thirties suck!”
“Hey, didn’t you have a good time at your party yesterday? And now you get to spend a day with me!”
“Well, it’s always nice to hang out with family and friends but it also reminds me that everyone is shacked up or getting shacked up while I stay single and sexless.”
“I’m single too but I wouldn’t say I’m sexless. When the need arises, I take care of the deed.”
He pumps his first near his crotch.
“Masturbating doesn’t count!” but I keep my eyes glued to his hand movements.
“Of course it does! If you’re masturbating then you’re feeling sexual desires. Sometimes it’s better than sex because you control everything. There isn’t any pressure in being someone different, trying to please someone, or showing them that you’ve been pleased.”
Hmm…he makes a good point, but I’m tired of porn and masturbating! I’m longing for the touch of another man’s skin against mine. Can I tell him this? I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. I need to change the subject.
“How did you get trapped here last night? Didn’t you come with Frank?”
“Yeah, but he was really interested in that gay dude he was flirting with all night so I didn’t want to get in the way. And I don’t have much control when there’s free alcohol.” He pauses before he leans in and whispers, “I don’t remember passing out.”
“You can always depend on Frank to take off on his friends when he’s hunting his next prey.”
“Ha! You know him well, too!”
“I’ve known him since we were six years old. We grew up together in the same neighbourhood. How do you know him?”
“He picked me up at a bar. But don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not gay. I went to Zippers on a Sunday night with a group of my gay friends and I guess Frank thought I’d be his prey for that evening.” He chuckles before he continues. “I enjoyed the attention so I flirted back. It was fun! I also gave him a little peck on the lips before I broke the news that I was straight. He tried to convince me that every man has a little gay in him so I challenged him on that and went home with him. We drank and talked at his place. He rubbed his hands on my legs and he got a kick at seeing my cock grow inside my jeans. Who wouldn’t get turned on by someone rubbing your leg when you’re drunk?”
I try to imagine his cock growing larger than its current size and I feel my erection grow. I keep my hands folded over my speedo and plead it deflates before he notices. “He tried to kiss me,” he continues, “but I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.”
Ah, a gentleman!
“But after a few more drinks, I could feel myself getting really drunk and I could barely stay awake. At some point I don’t even remember what we were talking about when I felt hands on my pants. Soon enough, they were unzipped, pulled down, and Frank’s mouth was around my cock. That guy has skills!”
Damn! Why didn’t I think of that last night?
“Since a mouth is a mouth, and I could tell that Frank had a lot of practice, I laid back and enjoyed the blowjob. It was the first time anyone made me cum inside their mouth! He said I tasted like sweet tequila. Ha!”
“Was it awkward afterwards?”
“It wasn’t for me. I passed out and woke up the next morning on his couch. When I woke up I could hear noises coming from the bedroom. I didn’t know when, but Frank found a neighbour on a gay sex app and invited him over while I was sleeping. If I knew, I wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom. But there he was, face buried into his pillow while the guy plowed his hole. Frank can take a cock better than any girl I’ve been with.”
“Like you said he’s had extensive practice.”
We both laugh and clink bottles to cheer Frank’s promiscuity.
“I slowly closed the door so they wouldn’t hear me. I left Frank a note with my number so we could hang out sometime and then I went home. He called me a few weeks later to go for drinks with some of his friends and we’ve been hanging out ever since.”
“Has he tried to come on to you again?”
“Nah, you know Frank! He has you once, and then he’s onto another. But it’s better this way. We're friends without the awkward part of him chasing me and trying to make me gay.”
“Don’t you think it was a little gay that he gave you a blow job?”
“Nah, it’s just a blow job and he gave it to me, not the other way around. Like I said, a mouth is a mouth.”
I smirk at his comment and lay back on the lounge chair, drinking champagne, and soaking in the sun; but my mind races with images and thoughts from his first encounter with Frank. Mostly so, the thought that Frank never made a move on me. I’m just that typical check mark on the “average looking gay” profile box.
“Looks like you’re packing just as much as me,” chuckles dude guy as he winks at me and points towards my speedo.
Part 3 next week!

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Join Steve on his sexcapades through Buenos Aires, Argentina; a country known for its delicious wine, beef, and men! He enjoys a mouthful (and ass full!) of magical flavours as he devours various men on the plane, in the park, in hotel rooms, in alleyways, in bathrooms, in bedrooms…maybe he should consider a longer stay!
Warning: this story is filled with large erections, ejaculations, drug-induced sex, cream pies, and a dash of romance.