I was fascinated by his dick and couldn't keep my eyes off it. It was beautiful to me. From being a man who held no attraction for me, he had suddenly become a sensual object of desire. He was a type of man I might never have noticed on the street, but there in the intimacy of our solitude, side-by-side on the kitchen floor with his genitals exposed, I felt as much heat generated from closeness to him as if he were the hottest man alive.

I felt his hand press mine a little tighter when he realized I was staring at his crotch. He stroked himself lightly with his other hand, and I could feel his gaze concentrated on my face. Even so, I was reluctant, thinking of this whole experience as bizarre. I was left with a sense of not being sure what to do. He settled the issue by lifting my hand downward until it rested gently on his cock.

He sighed and closed his eyes and let go my hand. His dick began to harden quickly, lifting off the floor. It was silky soft and smooth until the veins began to erupt in rough ridges as they filled with the blood flow driving his penis to erection. Such a moment has always been to me one of the great rewards of life, when another man's member stiffens under my touch. I twisted from my sitting position and knelt between his legs, but did not yet hunker down. I cupped his heavy balls in my left hand and moved my right hand smoothly up and down his shaft.

His legs spread wider. His hands fell to his sides, palms down on the floor. His eyes remained closed. I could see the pleasure I was giving him in the dreamy expression on his face, a half-smile, and could hear it in the faint utterances like a cat's purr from the base of his throat. I felt an irresistible compulsion to take his shaft into my mouth. I unwound my body from the kneeling position and lay prostrate before him as if worshiping at a shrine. My lips swooped down on his cock and engulfed it as far as it would go. It was thick. My mouth had to open wide, so wide that my jaw hurt. I nearly lifted my head away, but he took over then and grabbed it, pushing it down hard as if trying to shove everything, including his balls, down my throat. The smell of his oncoming orgasm filled my nose. Almost strangled, I gagged and managed to pull my head free just before he gasped, and the fluids burst from his dick..

That fat, dark cigar sprayed like a firehose in my face. He held it with a tight grip as it shot volcanic bombs of hot semen on my closed eyelids and my chin. I felt his cum running in streams down my cheeks like boiling tears. My own orgasm came as a surprise. I had been so focused on his pleasure and not on mine that when the ecstasy swept over me, I buried my face in his balls and rubbed my nose in the overflow from his juicy cigar.

Finished, we both panted like worn-out dogs, me on my belly on the linoleum floor, my underpants soggy with my own irrepressible cum, He sat with his back to the wall, his legs unbent and sprawling on either side of me until he lifted them and used them to give me a hug with his knees. It was a gesture of true affection.

A minute or two later, he said, "We will get that stove fixed this afternoon, and perhaps when you move in tomorrow, you will let me be your first overnight guest?"

"Yes," said I.

He was a man of his word. The stove got fixed, and the affection I had felt from him at the end of our session on the kitchen floor morphed into passion the next night in bed.

THE END