Glen says his wife knows. Or at least looks the other way when it comes to his hookups with men. I was just the lucky one to get this hunky dude on a weekly basis.
We were classic fuck buddies, only we had become real buddies, too. It all started when after a Grindr hookup, the guy saw my golf clubs sitting out.
“You golf?” he asked surprised.
“Yeah, why?” I said. Usually married guys looking for dick don’t want much in the way of conversation.
He just shrugged with a smile. “Most gay guys aren’t into it.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve always played, though. Was on the golf team in high school. Never gave it up.”
“Cool,” he said. Then, remembering what he came over for, he asked, “Wanna go fuck?”
I did. Glen didn’t kiss, but otherwise the chemistry was there from our first time. I ate out that 33 year old married guy’s hole before lubing up some fingers to twist in and out of him. He was tight but not cherry.
“Just to confirm,” I said. “We doing this raw?”
We’d had a text conversation about barebacking leading up to the hookup.
“Yeah, buddy… go for it.”
It was a 9 out of 10 fuck, classic doggy. Started slow and then pounded a healthy load out of this guy ten years younger than me. I don’t know how common it was for married guys to take dick, but when they do they inevitably go wild with a prostate orgasm. I got excited hearing his deep voice growl with orgasm and thrusted a few more times for my own cum.
We cleaned up, and it was relaxed between us. We both knew the etiquette of a hookup. I’d probably never see him again, but the sex had been great.
Only Glen had something on his mind. “Ever looking for a golf buddy?”
“Sometimes,” I replied, caught off guard.
He gave a smile as he tucked his shirt back in. “Well drop me a line if you ever need one.”
Now we had a standing 10AM tee time Saturday morning at my club. Glen came over to my place at 8. Part of his don’t-ask-don’t-tell approach with the wife.
“Looking good, man,” he’d say as he stepped in to my living room in his golf attire. I knew better than to be dressed now, and usually wore just a towel around my waist.
And just like this straight-ish dude would kick off his shorts and plop onto my bed. “You gonna eat me out today, Hank?”
I’d drop the towel and get into ass eating position, gripping those furry cheeks. “Hell yeah,” I’d hiss. And bury myself in my buddy’s ass and go to town.
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