A couple of months ago a lad called James I know at work pulled me to one side to show me something on his phone. I knew it was going to be a piss-take the way his mates were all sniggering and throwing glances at each other and it turned out it was the stupid mankini video which my missus had uploaded onto YouTube.
Maybe you’ve seen it: it was my ‘Ice Bucket Challenge’ filmed in August in our back garden. I’m there wearing the lime green mankini someone had bought me a few years earlier as a joke Christmas present, with my big beer gut sticking out and the kids getting the giggles. At the start of the video, I stand there like a total knobhead saying my nominations before Paula climbs up on the little fold-out step-ladder behind me and pours a bucket of water with a few ice cubes in it over my head.
My wincing and gasping should have been the end of it but the force of the water pulled the mankini down. For a couple of seconds you can see my titchy little dick and pathetic-looking nuts before I realise how exposed I am and quickly turn my back to the camera. That was probably the worst thing I could have done, because I end up showing off my big flabby arse until our oldest kid — Kieran — who was filming us starts laughing so much that the picture becomes blurred and shaky.
Anyway, I said to James, “Yeah, I’ve seen that loadsa times, mate.”
But he just shrugged and was like, “Not this version, Bazza.”
“How’s this one different then?” I asked, wondering if one of the sneaky fuckers had re-edited it to zoom right in on my nads to make it even more obvious to all the sniggering gits how little I’ve got going on down there.
“It’s the same video,” James assured me, “just on a different website.”
And that’s when the first of his dorky mates couldn’t help but blurt out a muffled guffaw, which quickly set the others off.
I looked at the website: something about ‘bearcubs’. What the fuck was this?
“I don’t get it,” I said. “What’s a bearcub?”
“It’s a gay thing,” James said totally straight-faced, while his mates were trying their best to cover their mouths as they spluttered and snorted even though it was obvious they were laughing at me.
“A gay thing? What d’ya mean?”
James would only say, “Take a look at the comments, Bazza.”
He passed me his phone and I scrolled down to see what the video’s viewers had written.
The first was from someone called toplad-82. I figured from what James had said that he must be some gay fella.
Stupidly I read his comment out loud: “Lovin this guy’s big wobbly ass. Wanna rim it so bad.”
That made the fuckwit mates laugh out loud.
“What’s he mean he wants to rim my arse? How’s that work then?”
Without so much as allowing himself a smirk, James told me, “He wants to lick your shitter, Bazza. Right between the cheeks.”
I just stared at him. I couldn’t believe it. Did gay blokes really do stuff like that to each other’s’ butts?
“This is a fuckin’ wind-up, James,” I said. “There’s no way this is level.”
“It’s a real website,” he assured me sincerely. “Just think, Bazza – there’s a fella out there who wants you to sit on his face!”
“What, no shit?”
“That’d be between you and him, mate,” James said without even the slightest amusement while his mates were falling about behind him.
I looked back at the phone and scrolled further down the comments. Most were just like, “So fuckin hot!” and, “Well horny!” but some bloke called bodmin_boy had said, “Lovely cute cock. Could suck that all night.”
“Jesus, this fella wants to suck my willy!” I couldn’t help but blurt out and, with his mates creasing up, James grabbed the phone and found a comment lower down.
“Look at what this bloke here wants to do to you, Bazza!”
I looked at the comment, written by todd*1991, and it read: “Most fuckable arse I’ve seen on here. Lube it up lads — I’m going in!”
“What’s he mean, ‘lube it up’?” I asked. I realise now how fucktarded I must have sounded.
James’ mates were just about pissing themselves while he explained, “He means he wants to pork your rump, Bazza.”
I must have just stared at him like I hadn’t a fucking clue and he went on, totally matter-of-fact: “He wants to prize your flabby butt-cheeks apart, smear KY around your arsehole and then give you a good fucking up it.”
“This bloke wants to actually bum me?” I asked wide-eyed.
“That’s right, mate. He wants to make you his bitch.”
“Fuck me!” I gasped.
“Yeah, that’s the idea,” James nodded.
Do you know the weirdest thing about the piss-take they’d played on me? Well it’s this: I had a raging hard-on by the end of it. Not that anyone could have guessed because it always gets lost among all the creases and folds in my baggy boxer shorts.
I suppose getting turned-on by reading stuff like that is only natural really. It’s kind of exciting to think that other people might really want to suck your cock and lick your butt and do all sorts of sexual stuff with you that your wife would never do in a million years no matter how drunk she was.
I wasn’t even that bothered that it was other fellas wanting to do stuff like that to me: the important bit was that they thought I was “hot” and “horny” and “well fit” and “super sexy”! Show me a man in his right mind who wouldn’t get turned-on by that!
“So am I like some sort o’ gay sex god or somethin’?” I asked James. His mates were just about on the floor by now they were laughing so much. I noticed Darren had snot hanging out of his nose and Nat was a scary shade of purple.
But James was as cool as a cucumber when it came to handling himself in a wind-up. He could stay totally convincing even when everyone around him was falling about.
“You’re a bearcub, Bazza. That’s why your ice bucket video ended up on this… er… specialised website. It’s for guys who like other guys built like you.”
“What, fat and hairy?” I chuckled.
“Exactly,” he agreed, although I’d only meant it as a joke.
“Really?” I said. “There’s fellas who like chubby blokes wi’ hairy chests? I thought gays liked muscly types all tanned and waxed?”
“Evidently some of them like the more curvaceous and hirsuit figure, mate!”
I never asked James how he found my video on the bearcubs site. It was the obvious question but the sort of thing that would only occur to me days or weeks later.
What I do know is that when I got home that night and once we’d got the kids off to bed, I went back to that website while Paula was prattling away to one of her mates on the phone.
I had to trawl through loads of sites before I found it, mind. I couldn’t believe how many there were — James was kind of under-selling it when he said some gay guys liked the bigger and hairier types. There seemed to be hundreds of websites with blokes on them much fatter and hairier than me: some with amateur videos like mine but mostly with stuff that had been filmed as porn.
Eventually I found the right site and recognised the logo from what I’d seen on James’ phone. I put in a search for ‘mankini’ and a thumbnail of my ice bucket video appeared in all its embarrassing glory.
Scrolling through the comments more methodically now that I was on my own, I found I became quickly turned on again from all the really sexy things these guys were saying about me. They genuinely found me seriously hot! If you saw me you’d laugh at that — I’m really not a guy anyone would ever call attractive. My wife reminds me how fuck ugly I am pretty much every single day and the nicest comment anyone has given me in the last few years was that I have a look of James Corden. I mean, most men would be totally fucking mortified to be told they looked anything like that lard bucket, but I was well chuffed and couldn’t stop smiling for a couple of days!
One of the guys on the site said he wanted to finger my “huge wobbly ass” — which sounded weird but sort of interesting in a way — and another that he wanted me on top of him riding his cock. I wasn’t sure what that meant and I had to look it up, but when I clicked on Google images and saw what this bloke had in mind for the two of us, I actually took my knob out from my fly and played with it a bit.
To think that another fella wanted me squatting over his dick, pumping it with my big flabby arse! For some reason the thought of a bloke sitting at home imagining me doing that made my cock more horny than it had been in ages.
Still rubbing and squeezing myself, I read further down the comments.
“Imagine licking those cute little bollocks while he was wanking his tiny cock,” one fella said.
It might sound weird but to me that seemed like the naughtiest of all the comments. I had to read and re-read it several few times to make sure that I’d understood it properly.
I couldn’t believe that a guy would be okay with me jacking off while the two of us were doing sexy stuff. From the first time we coupled up in the back of her parents’ Mondeo, that’s always been a total no-no for Paula. I was licking her out and must have grabbed my dick to bash away at myself while I was enjoying where my tongue was, and she pulled off me and told me in no uncertain terms I absolutely mustn’t do “that sort of filth” in front of her.
Wanking is something guys do when they’re on their own, she’d said. Like pissing or taking a dump: nice lads just don’t do stuff like that in front of a lady.
I’d nearly asked, glancing around as if in confusion, “So where’s the lady?” but the seriousness of her face stopped me in my tracks. She was in no mood for jokes: she really didn’t want to see me pulling my pud, no matter how turned-on I got from what I was doing to her.
I’ve been together with Paula well over ten years and by now the idea of wanking with someone else in the room seemed… well… scandalous, I suppose. Even more exciting than having someone licking my butt… even more mind-blowing than the idea of taking another fella’s cock inside me!
Maybe that explains what I did next: I jerked off properly reading the rest of the comments. I kept scrolling down and clicking ‘See more’ and whacking my dick faster and faster as I read them.
They were just so fucking horny! Every single one of them said something nice about me, whether it was how sexy my huge stomach looked or how hot my hairy nipples were — every comment was positive and so many guys said I how horny my knob was and what an amazing arse I had and how cute I looked blushing bright red when the mankini fell down.
I spunked up reading some guy’s comment that he was also a big hairy guy and he wanted the two of us to lie in his bed together, face-to-face, kissing with our big flabby guts rubbing together and our chipolata dicks poking into each other. I don’t know why it was that comment in particular that got me off. Maybe it was excitement from all the other raunchier comments that pushed me to the edge and that bloke’s words just provided that extra bit of momentum. I don’t know.
All I know is that I just kind of imagined being in bed with another fat bloke like me, both of us loving the fact we were big and hairy, and the idea of us kissing and poking our dicks together made my cock start spurting.
Funny thing to get a guy like me off, I guess.
There I was, with my kids asleep in their beds on the other side of the wall and my wife downstairs yacking on and on to her godawful friend, squirting my nut over some gay bloke’s fantasies about my stupid mankini video.
Weird, I know. But that’s how it happened.
Anyway, I felt pretty bad after I’d spunked and I went downstairs to give Paula a kiss, even though she was still on the phone. I felt like I’d cheated on her — which was daft, I know, especially given what I did in the weeks following — and I wanted to make it up to her.
I actually wanted to tell her how much I love her, but of course I couldn’t do that because she was going at it non-stop to her friend and anyway it would have seemed really bizarre for me to just say something like that out of the blue.
So instead I went to watch telly which didn’t last long because the baby monitor soon started up like it always does as soon as you sit down.
That night while Paula was asleep I had another wank. That’s another thing she doesn’t like — me beating the bishop without at least asking her for sex. Paula reckons wanking for a married fella should be desperate measures, but this time I didn’t even want to ask for sex: I just wanted some time for me and my hand.
So once she was asleep I toddled off to the bathroom. I took my t-shirt and boxers off and looked at myself from all angles in the mirror. I did have a fat arse, but it turned out it was attractive to certain men, and I did sprout hair in odd places, but that didn’t make me look like a gorilla like Paula had once said.
I could see as well that my cock was indeed unusually small — it was all the more obvious standing in front of a mirror like this — but even that seemed to hold an appeal for some guys. Paula always joked that when God was giving out body parts, I was so stupid that I’d got mixed up when I’d been supposed to ask for a big dick and a small gut.
I squatted down in front of the mirror like I would if I was riding the fella who’d written the comment that had turned me on so much. I looked sexy like that, especially when I bobbed up and down, and I rubbed my dick hard and fast imagining I had another big flabby hairy bloke like me thrusting away underneath me.
It was a bit weird for me to be able to get boned up again so quickly after my earlier wazz off. Normally it takes me ages to recover after spunking up but tonight it seemed like my todger had a new lease of life!
When I was really into it, I got up and bent over so I could look at my arse through the mirror. Sticking my massive butt out like this was how the blokes had been thinking of me when they said they’d wanted to fuck me. With my elbow going full speed I peered at the sweaty hairy crack between my cheeks: that’s what all the other bearcubs like me had been fantasising about sticking their knobs into.
I’d shot my wad bending over like that so my jizz went all over the bath panel and onto the little fluffy mat underneath it. It had taken me ages afterwards to clean it off properly with warm water and soap because Paula’s got hawk eyes for the slightest mess I leave anywhere.
It went on like that for a couple of weeks — sneaking a look at the website whenever I could wangle a free moment and afterwards tossing myself off at the computer and in the bathroom — before I plucked up the courage to take it further.
By now I was getting bored with reading the same comments over and over and as the video was starting to get dated it seemed fewer people were looking at it.
So that’s when I decided to make a comment of my own.
I signed up the site as ‘mankini_bearcub’ because all the other names I would have preferred had been taken, and I wrote simply: “Hiya fellas! I’m the guy in the video!”
After I’d posted the comment I just stared at the screen like I was expecting loads of replies to instantly come flooding in. I hadn’t really expected anything, but I still felt a bit disappointed when nothing happened.
The next time when I was able to take a look — a few nights later because I so rarely get a spare minute with everything else going on in our house — there were also no new comments. Mine was still the newest one listed at the top.
Maybe no-one actually cares who the real bloke in the video is, I wondered. Or maybe all the men who’d been fantasising about me have moved onto newer stuff by now.
But then I noticed a little speech bubble with a number 3 on it down at the bottom of the screen. At first I figured it to be an ad but then it struck me as odd that I’d never seen it before, all the times I’d been looking at this site over so many weeks.
So I clicked on it and it turned out I had three private messages.
Nice one, Bazza, mate! Here we go…
All three were from fellas wanting to meet up with me. It probably sounds stupid — my wife reckons most of what I say sounds stupid — but it was only when I read the first message that I realised I’d had the idea of a hook-up somewhere in the back of my mind when I’d posted my “Hiya fellas!” comment.
I reckon that somewhere in my sub-conscious, I must have secretly wanted to meet up with one of these guys who were saying all this sexy stuff about me. I swear to God I hadn’t really thought of it like that until I read that first message, but somewhere in the back of mind a plan must have formed to sneakily hook me up with one of them.
Anyway, all three messages were from men who lived miles and miles away from where I live. And when I say miles and miles, I don’t just mean London or Edinburgh or somewhere I could have got to with a train ticket and a far-fetched excuse to keep Paula from going off on one.
One guy was in Quebec, another in New Zealand and the third was somewhere beginning with D which I can’t even remember. It sounded Russian but when I looked it up it was somewhere even more bizarre.
The point is that I started checking the messages every spare moment I could and it was only a matter of weeks before a bloke called Todd showed up who was feasible for me to get to. I worked out that I could drive to where he lived in a morning and — with a couple of hours for us to ‘get to know each other’ — would get home only an hour or so later than I usually do. I reckoned I could blag it so that even Paula — with all her constant questions — wouldn’t get suspicious.
Not that I felt I was cheating on her — I still don’t, to be honest. I was still happy to be the loving and devoted husband and the main breadwinner for her and the kids. I just wanted to do something for me for a change. And it wasn’t like it was proper sex or anything deep and meaningful: it just seemed like a sort of passing interest as I saw it back then; just a bit of fun between me and another like-minded bloke.
As things panned out, though, Todd and I decided to meet up in a room at a Travel Lodge roughly halfway between where we lived. Not only did that make it easier for me, but he preferred it too because even though he was in his twenties he still lived with his parents. Inviting each other back to our own places just wasn’t an option for either for us.
“Are you gay, Bazza?” Todd asked me once we were regularly messaging each other.
“No. Are you?” I asked him back.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Would it be a problem if I was?”
“Not really. As long as this stays totally non-serious for both of us. I don’t think I’d cope with another bloke getting smoochy with me!”
“Absolutely,” Todd had quickly agreed. “Like you, I just want some fun.”
I asked him to send me a photo which felt was a bit weird to be honest. But he’d seen me in all my glory — even seen my junk pop out from that bloody mankini for fuck’s sake — so it seemed only fair that I had an idea of how he looked.
It felt weird because I knew I was asking to see the face of the guy I was going to do sex stuff with. Like a date, maybe; or if not a date then at least a one night stand.
He asked me if I wanted a shot of him with nothing on. I said no, a selfie would do. It would have felt even more weird to start trading nuddie pics with other blokes.
I have to admit that I found the picture Todd sent me really attractive. He was fat — but I knew that already — and had a little goatie which he kept short. He had nice blue eyes and a really sweet smile and the first thing I thought when I saw what he looked like was, “Yeah, this is going to be really easy!”
What I mean by that is, I’d worried I was going to freak out when we met up. That the whole sex thing would seem too strange and scary for me to actually go through with and that I’d just get back in my car and get the fuck out of there.
But when I saw how sweet he looked — how cute he was but not in a girlie or effeminate way — I knew I’d stay for the course. I’d have sex with him, as long as he himself was up for it, and if he wanted to we could maybe keep meeting up afterwards.
The day came round soon enough and I pulled into the layby I’d already had figured out and called in work to say I was sick. I’m not totally stupid, you see: I can plan things out far better than Paula would ever give me credit for.
I got to the Travel Lodge first and checked into the room, letting the snooty receptionist know that my “associate, Mr Stewart,” would be along shortly. Once I’d let myself in and taken a quick look around I just sat there on the bed waiting for him to show up. I kept wondering if he’d stood me up and whether maybe I should drive home because this had all been some awful mistake; wondering if the bed I was sitting on really was the bed I’d end up canoodling with another guy on.
But Todd appeared soon enough and once he did things flowed pretty well. We got on like we were old mates or something; we could easily make each other laugh and found hearing what we both had to say genuinely interesting.
I’d expected things to be awkward between us, but it wasn’t like that at all. The conversation seemed to flow naturally between us and I think we were both relieved that we were able to hit it off without really trying.
“Have you ever done anything like this before?” I asked him following a lull in our chit-chat.
“No,” he smiled, sitting on the bed next to me. “To be honest, Bazza, I’m pretty much a virgin.”
“But all that stuff you wrote on the bearcubs site… about what you wanted to do me…? It was pretty graphic… I figured you must have been around a bit…”
“It was all just fantasy, mate. I’ve never properly been with anyone — male or female.”
He smiled again — a sad sort of smile — and I tried to smile back but I don’t think it really worked.
He asked, “So what about you… have you done stuff like this before?”
“No,” I admitted. “This is new for me too.”
He got off the bed and for a second I thought he was going to say he was leaving.
But instead he said, “Maybe we should get undressed, Bazza…? Snuggle up together… see what works for us…?”
For a virgin, Todd seemed to intuitively know what to do. Throughout all the sex we had together, he always seemed to instinctively know what would work best in any given situation.
I wish I was like that!
We took our clothes off but before we could get under the duvet, Todd came around to my side of the bed and pressed his cock up against mine.
“Your dick is so beautiful,” he said, working our two knobs together.
“Yours is bigger,” I grinned. It was: anyone who says fat blokes always have small cocks is lying. Todd, for all he was fatter than me, had a prick at least three times the size of mine.
“Size isn’t related to beauty,” he argued. “Yours is really lovely just as is it is, Bazza.”
“My wife says it’s like her little finger. Or more recently she’s started saying it’s like our youngest kid’s little finger.”
He didn’t smile. Instead he said, “Does your wife call you Bazza?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“In that case, can I call you Barry?”
I chuckled. “Only my mum calls me Barry.”
“But can I call you Barry?”
“Yeah, if you want to.” I couldn’t see what the big deal was.
“Okay, Barry. Barry it is.”
He smiled more broadly at me and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why’s my name so important?”
“It’s just… well… I don’t want anything in common with your wife.”
“Okay,” I nodded. “I’m happy with that.”
Todd reached out and fondled my cock and my bollocks and I did the same to his with us smirking naughtily at each other. I was surprised by how it felt to be touching another man in such a private place: it didn’t feel ‘wrong’ or ‘dirty’ or ‘gay’ even. It just felt nice and kind of sexy for him to be letting me do something so intimate to him.
I could feel him getting hard and that felt even better. It made my dick start to grow too and Todd laughed at the way it was reacting to his hand.
“Sorry, Barry. I’m not laughing at your cock,” he said.
“I don’t mind if you are. My wife does it all the time.”
“Can we have an agreement, from now on? Not to mention her?”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
“I was just laughing,” Todd explained, “because it feels so strange to have you getting a hard-on in my hand. And because from the stuff I’ve read on the internet, I think you’re a grower!”
“A grower?” I asked. All I could think of was my dad and all the plants he had in his greenhouse when I was a kid.
“Yeah, your cock is small when it’s limp but it grows much bigger when you get aroused.”
“Don’t they all do that?” I asked.
“Not to the same extent,” he explained. “Yours is like… wow! It’s already bigger than mine and mine’s standing up!”
I laughed back at him, enjoying how nice his cock looked poking upwards from his bollocks, but pleased that he also clearly liked the look of mine as it was growing to full size.
“Should we get in the bed and have a cuddle?” I asked him. I was getting turned on by the idea of us poking our knobs into each other.
“Can we do something else first?” he asked. “Something I’ve always wanted to do but… well… I’ve never had the chance up until now?”
“Okay,” I shrugged. “Whatever you want to, mate.”
“Can I fuck you, Barry?” he asked outright. “Properly, I mean… up your arse…?”
“Okay,” I laughed. “But I thought that… you know… we could sort of work up to the heavy stuff…”
“I thought that too… but I really want to do you Barry… I really need it, to be totally honest!”
I got on the bed while Todd went over to his coat to fish some stuff out from one of the pockets. From behind he looked pretty amazing, I have to say: his arse was massive, even bigger than mine, and the crack was sprouting a forest of hair making me wonder how it would feel to push my own dick between his lovely, flabby cheeks.
“You’ve thought a lot about what it’d be like to bum another fella, then, have you?” I asked.
“Of course I have,” he grinned over at me and passed me a little tube of something which he’d brought with him. It read: ‘KY Jelly’. This was the stuff James had mentioned. I was pleased that I didn’t have to make a tit of myself by asking him what I supposed to do with it.
He kept talking, opening a box of johnnies, “Pretty much ever since the first time I wanked I’ve fantasised about getting my dick up some fella’s arse! What it would feel like… how great it would be to have a guy bending over in front of me…”
“You’ve never thought about shaggin’ some bird’s pussy, then?” I asked, squirting some of the jelly on my finger and working it up my butt-hole. “That’s what I used to think of when I first –”
“No, that sort of stuff has never done if for me,” he cut in, ripping one of the little square sachets open. “It’s always been screwing blokes’ arses that I’ve wanked off thinking about… even when I was a kid…”
“So that’s why you think you might be gay,” I suggested.
“It’s just one of many subtle clues,” he grinned.
As he started unfurling the rubber down his curving hard-on, I was suddenly reminded of a comment that Paula had made a few years earlier. I didn’t say anything to Todd about it of course: mentions of my wife were now strictly off-limits.
She’d had a friend around and the three of us were watching some crap on the telly; maybe a soap or something. A couple of gays were getting it on together and the friend had made some sarkie dig about me having urges on that score. Before I could answer, Paula had brayed with laughter and said, “If some bloke wants to poke away at Bazza’s skiddy arse, he can be my fuckin’ guest. There’s no way I’d touch the shitty thing with a six foot pole!”
So here we were. A bloke did want to poke away at idiot Bazza’s arse and it turned out that Bazza was well up for it!
I got on all fours and stuck my bum out like I had in the bathroom in front of the mirror. I was about to be fucked up it by a guy I hardly knew and yet I wasn’t scared at all by the prospect. This was something that felt right in a funny sort of way and I was absolutely determined that I was going to go through with it.
“Have you always fantasised about women, then Barry?” Todd asked as he got on the bed behind me, put his hands on my hips and lined his dick up behind my big dimply buttocks.
“Yeah. Until I read all those sexy comments that fellas had written about my mankini video,” I told him over my shoulder. “That was what made me wonder what it’d be like to do stuff with another bloke.”
“And you’re liking it now that you’re with another bloke?” he asked, as he pressed the head of his cock into my hairy butt crack.
“Yeah,” I smiled. “It’s actually better than I would have thought. Loads better to be honest!”
“So maybe you’ve got a gay side too,” Todd suggested.
As his manhood started to push through my arse-ring, I was going to say no I definitely hadn’t, but that seemed stupid given that I was bending over to take another fella’s hard-on up my bum, so instead I agreed that maybe I had.
“Maybe it just took me this long to realise it, Todd,” I admitted as my rectum struggled to accommodate how massive his organ felt.
“Maybe you just had to wait until you met the right guy,” he chuckled as it seemed like a tree trunk was sliding steadily up into my bowels.
“I don’t think I’m properly gay though,” I told him as I winced at how big his cock felt. It hadn’t looked even half the size it now seemed when he’d been rolling the johnnie down it!
“Properly gay?” he asked.
“What I mean is, I still love Paula — sorry for havin’ to mention her but I do think the world of her — and I’ve got three kids so I must be mostly straight.”
Once he’d worked the whole six inches or so of his knob inside me, he paused with his bollocks pushing into the backs of my thighs.
He called down to the back of my head, “Does that feel okay for you, Barry? Having my dick all the way up your bum?”
“It feels better now it’s in,” I chuckled and looked across at our reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe doors.
We made a hell of a sight: one hairy fat bloke getting bummed by another!
Todd looked over too and we smirked at each other. He started fucking me slowly — his cock gently working in and out of my splayed round arse and we grinned more broadly.
“We make a pretty picture,” I laughed, finding it enjoyable to watch my big butt getting shafted by another fella’s stalk.
“We look well hot!” he agreed with his face starting to redden.
“Is this what you were dreamin’ about all those years wankin’ yersel’ off?” I asked him.
“Fuck yeah!” he gasped with his rhythm starting to quicken. “So many thousands of times… this is the image that’s been in my mind!”
I chuckled at the idea: it seemed so strange to me. I’d always considered shagging up the bum as an absolute last resort; something to be endured if Paula wouldn’t let me do her round the front because it was the wrong time of her month or whatever. The thought that Todd had spent years and years fantasising about getting his knob up a big hairy arse like mine was really funny in a way.
He grabbed me firmly by the hips and started thrusting more roughly in and out of me. His hips were making loud slapping noises against my bum-cheeks; like my arse was getting spanked by one of those high-class prostitutes.
“Is it as good as you hoped it would be?” I asked him as he banged away behind me.
“Way better!” he grunted, his forehead now pouring with sweat. “I’m not gonna last long, mate… I’ve needed this way too long!”
He looked pretty cute, I have to say: gasping and panting as he lost his virginity to my arse. I was feeling turned-on too — my cock was really throbbing — but after all the years Paula had barred me from whacking off during sex, it wouldn’t have felt right for me to give myself a grope while Todd bonked away with his knees between mine. Stupid, I know; but that’s just me.
“Can I do you when you’ve finished?” I asked him while I stared at the headboard. “I wanna know what it feels like!”
“Course you can!” Todd muttered from behind. “You’ll fuckin’ love it!”
He moved his hands up to grab me by the shoulders and held me steady as he started roughly and quickly pounding in and out of me.
I looked back at the mirror and laughed at his reflection: heaving and grunting and with his forehead really pouring with sweat. He stared back at me, his expression totally serious at first, but then broke into a grin when he realised I wasn’t making fun of him.
I just found it dead funny that he enjoyed bum sex so much. All the times that Paula had made me use the back door I’d done it more through desperation than because of wanting it, but here was Todd huffing and puffing away like he was having the time of his life!
“Enjoy yourself!” I told him still smirking at his reaction.
“I fucking am mate!” he gasped, in spite of the stink my arse was kicking out. “Jesus this feels so good! I’ve wanted to stoke a fella’s arse for so fucking long!”
“Well stoke away mate!” I chuckled. “It’s all yours!”
I kept getting the urge to wank myself off while he was bashing his hips against me but that stupid rule in my brain wouldn’t let me.
Todd pulled my upper body up so that my back was pressing against his big wobbly gut and then repositioned his legs so that his knees were around my hips.
“Squat down like I am, Barry!” he urged me. “I wanna feel our nuts slapping together!”
I told you that for a newbie Todd knew exactly what to do. He must have watched so much gay porn over the years that he knew all the best positions.
The first time I’d done stuff with Paula, on the other hand, had been an absolute disaster. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing and ended up spunking up all over her blouse.
We squatted like that — Todd’s flabby gut grinding against my hairy back — and he wrapped his arms around me while he fucked me as hard and fast as he could. He was right that it felt really good with our knackers smacking against each other, and I have to admit that kneeling upright together was a really sexy position. It felt so different and exciting to feel his frantic cock ramming in and out of my behind while his hot breath was panting against my neck and his sweaty hairy chest was rubbing between my shoulders.
It was like nothing I’d ever experienced with Paula — but then, that’s pretty obvious, I suppose!
Muttering something about wanting me to enjoy it too, Todd reached down and found my flag pole at full mast and started jerking it off quickly and roughly as he worked his hips tirelessly against mine.
“That feels nice,” I grunted back appreciatively. Paula would never go to the effort of giving me a handjob these days; even back when we’d first hooked up they’d been something of a rarity.
“Reach underneath me, Barry!” Todd gasped as he rapidly beat my knob off. “Finger my arse while I fuck you, mate!”
“I’ve never fingered an arse,” I told him hesitantly. “Only a fanny!”
I mean, I didn’t want to fuck it all up at such a crucial stage.
“Do your best!” he panted. “Just stick your middle finger up my butt!”
I did as he was asking and pushed my hand between his thick slippery thighs. There was a hot wet forest just behind his swinging bollocks and I plunged my fingers into it to find his swollen sticky hole.
As soon as my finger was pressing into it — and it seemed so much less complicated than the palaver I had to go through with Paula — he started crying out in short gasping breaths: “Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!”
Jesus, did my orgasms make me sound like such a total bozo?!
It’d be cute for me to say that the two of us spunked off together that very first time. It’d be kind of romantic, almost. But I held off: I’ve told you how long it can take me to recover after I’ve shot my nut and remember I had to be heading back home in just an hour or so.
So I let him do his thing behind me and stopped myself from shooting even though I was loving the way his hand was whacking away at my dick.
When he’d finished the two of us lay down together on the bed and, while he got his breath back, I put my arms around him and snuggled into him in a way that would make Paula go ape. She’s never been one for close contact, especially in bed.
“Thanks for that, Barry,” he said when he’d recovered. “I can say straight up, mate, that’s the best sex I’ve ever had with another guy!”
I chuckled and just cuddled into his pudgy chest. I was getting the odd whiff of his sweaty armpit and the smell of it was surprisingly pleasant.
“You can have your turn soon,” he added. “Just because I’ve cum, don’t think I won’t be up for it!”
“You’re a horny bugger aren’t you?” I laughed.
“I’m a bloke like you, mate, so I’m probably just as horny as you are.”
“I dunno about that,” I muttered glumly. “I’m usually pretty useless for ages after I’ve cum.”
“Maybe that’s just the rut you’ve got into,” he suggested. “Now that you’re doing stuff that’s new and different for you, maybe you’ll feel horny again a lot more quickly.”
I nodded: he had a point on that score. The night I’d first wanked off to all the comments on the mankini video, I’d been at it again in the bathroom just a few hours later.
Todd put his arm around me, making the smell from his armpit stronger and more interesting in a sexy sort of way, and I wondered why I was liking being with him so much. It definitely wasn’t a romantic thing — I didn’t want things to get all heavy with him so it couldn’t be anything like that — but something was making lying here in the stark nuddies with another bloke feel so nice and so strangely right.
I figured it must just be that Todd had made me feel special by all the comments he’d written about my video. Here was someone who actually finds me attractive, and it’s important for a guy to know that’s he’s attractive every once in a while.
That must be why it was so good to be with him like this. It was a confidence thing — my mother had always told me I was lacking in it — and having Todd let me know that my stupid titchy dick and my big flabby behind were arousing to him was something that I must have really needed to hear.
I pressed into him and, without really thinking about, leaned in to kiss his nipple.
He giggled and then announced, “I’m so glad we met up, Barry. I’ve got to admit I nearly bottled it when I pulled into the car park and — I wasn’t gonna tell you — but I came close to driving straight back out again.”
I smiled against the hairy skin of his chest. I was really pleased he hadn’t: if he had let me down, I don’t think I’d have wanted to go through with all this again. I’d have probably ended up getting so pissed off that I’d have deleted my ‘mankini_bearcub’ account and I would never have known how great it could feel to get together like this with another fella.
And that would have been a real shame because I could now see that this was something I wanted a lot more of.