Chapter 1 – Chapter 1

Another Locker Room Shower

[Author's Note: Like The Locker Room Shower, this is a work of fiction, with hints of reality blended in. This is what I wish had happened, not what actually happened.].

Part One

When I got home that Mother's Day, I told Charlie what had gone down in the shower. My husband doesn't care what I do, as long as I tell him and then share the experience in detail. He prefers hearing about my sexploits to participating in them. It's one of his kinks.

But, he was surprised by the risk I had taken. I loved my club, and I certainly would have been tossed if found fucking a guest — especially a male guest — in the locker room shower. Luckily, I wasn't found.

After Sean returned to Springfield, the sexting we shared was both excessive and incredible. I shared them with Charlie, too.

I surrendered my June 1 (Saturday) tee time to a friend with a small child who rarely got to play.

When Sean and I were sexting the night of May 30, a thought occurred to me. "I did a good deed, so I don't have a game tomorrow," I wrote. "Do you have room in yours?"

I was more than happy to drive two-and-a-half hours to see Sean and to play golf with him, in that order.

"Our course is in bad shape," he wrote back.

"Golf is a pretext," I wrote back, adding a devil emoji.

"9?" he answered, matching my devil emoji.

"Let me ensure The Warden is on board," I responded.

I joking referred to Charlie as The Warden. As the first paragraph of this story indicates, he was anything but. We were very permissive with each other. We ascribed to Dan Savage's concept of "Monogamish." Neither of us were or could be everything the other needed or wanted. No one can be everything to anyone.

I had introduced Charlie (a.k.a. The Warden) to Sean and his partner via text, and we were all group sexting and texting while Sean and I continued separately to sext and text. The sexts were not only excessive and incredible, they were also getting more and more fiery and, in some instances, depraved. To ensure trust, I shared them all with Charlie.

"You two are filthy," Charlie observed.

"Down and back in one day?" Charlie asked, as we sipped wine and shared a charcuterie board at our favorite neighborhood haunt.

"Yes," I promised.

"And you'll call me on the way back if anything happens?" he asked.

"You know it," I answered.

"I'm fine with it," he said.

I left the next morning before Charlie awoke. I left a note: "I love you the most. See you tonight."

I was charged as I drove south on 71. I expected something to happen, but I was not certain we'd have the opportunity. Sean resolved my uncertainty as I drove.

"It looks like next time won't be in a bed after all," he wrote.

I pulled into the parking lot at 8:30, about ten minutes ahead of Sean. By the time he arrived, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting in bed for my parents to announce that Santa Claus had, indeed, visited overnight.

Sean emerged from his car in all black. His smile matched mine. Not caring if anyone was looking, we embraced like lovers who had not seen each other in a long time. I got hard, and so did he.

"Tom," he whispered in my ear. "It's so good to see you."

"Sean," I answered. "It's so good to touch you."

We checked in and headed to the range. As we walked, we snapped a selfie together and sent it to Charlie. We captioned it "Hello from Springfield."

At the range, Sean told me about the rest of our fivesome. It included Spencer, his partner's nephew who was Sean's age and his best friend.

"Sorry," he said, "but we have to play it cool. Spencer's knows what Paul and I get up to, but I don't want to rub his face in it."

Off we went, all of us riding, Sean and me in the same cart, him driving. Even though it was only nine a.m., Sean was immediately into the High Noons. I didn't join him, as I had promised Charlie I'd be sober for the drive back.

We were both smiling like children who just received their first puppy. I was afraid my face would crack.

The third tee box was in an alcove surrounded by woods. After we all hit, Sean lingered back as the other two carts headed off.

"Tom?" he said.

When I looked at him, he rammed his tongue in my mouth and moaned. "Fuck," he said, after the brief kiss ended. "I was going to burst if I didn't do that."

"Me, too," I answered.

It's hard to play golf with a hard on, but that's what we were both trying to do. Sean didn't wear underwear, so he was more visible than I was.

Straight guys don't look at other guy's crotches, but gay guys do. Sean's telltale erection was to the right.

Mine was straight down, straining against my boxer briefs and my zipper.

After the kiss, Sean's hand was on my thigh or we held hands between our thighs. We weren't playing well. We were distracted, and, like I wrote, it's hard to play golf with an erection.

After seven, there was a snack shack. Sean asked the group if they wanted anything, and they all said Gatorade.

"We'll get them and bring them to you," Sean said. The rest of the group drove to the eighth tee.

Once they were out of sight, Sean pushed me against the shack and again rammed his tongue into my mouth, kissing me harder than I had ever been kissed. As we made out, he moaned, and I moaned back into him. Our erections were pressed together.

"Can you feel how hard you make me?" I asked.

"I can," he answered. "And I'm sure you can feel how hard you make me."

I could. He stepped back, grabbed my dick through my shorts, and mentioned "that giant head."

We delivered the Gatorades and played on. I don't know what Spencer was thinking, but he acted like he wasn't thinking anything.

At the turn, Sean whispered "pretend you need to pee" and then announced he needed to pee. "Me, too," I added.

Once we were in the bathroom, we had a repeat of the snack shack with an added bonus. I was pushed hard into the wall, my mouth was invaded, and Sean and I were erection to erection. As we made out, Sean moved his hips in a fucking motion, ramming his erection into mine, hard. It confirmed that I really wanted him to fuck me.

It was one of the hottest encounters I had ever had in a bathroom.

After fifteen, we were back at the snack shack. With the rest of the group headed to sixteen tee, we had a repeat of the bathroom, Sean's thrusts rending me and making me moan like a bitch.

"Fuck, Tom," he said, when time made him pull back. "You're so fucking hot."

"I'm not," I said. I didn't think I was. I was 25 years older than Sean, and he was an objectively beautiful man. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, flared ears, and a lean body with the perfect amount of hair, especially on his chest and under his arms.

"You are," he assured me. "The fact you don't know it makes you even hotter."

When we were finished, we said our good-byes to the other three in the parking lot and then returned our cart to the shop. I expected Sean and I, too, might have a parking lot good-bye. I had forgotten his "next time" text from the drive down. I was also naturally diffident.

"Come with me," he said. "I need to get something out of my locker. I'll show you around."

The locker room was large, with a central room and small alcoves off of it. Sean's locker was in one of the alcoves. As soon as we rounded the corner into it, Sean slammed me against a locker harder than he intended. My head hit and bounced.

"Shit," he whispered.

"I'm fine," I answered, incredibly turned on by how desperate he seemed to be.

Sean pinned me and devoured my mouth with his. We kissed like teenagers kissed, messily and ravenously. While we did, he slammed his erection into mine. I really wanted him to fuck me.

To my surprise, he lifted me off the ground and hooked his arms under my knees. We kissed and kissed and kissed and he continued to ram into me like he was fucking me.

"I wish I could fuck you right now," he hissed.

"I wish you could, too," I said.

We were in the alcove for half an hour. By the time Sean stepped back, I was aching like a teenaged boy. My guts hurt.

My mouth was also raw and puffy.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I guess," I answered, disappointed. I thought we were finished, and I didn't want to be. I wanted to stay in that alcove. I wanted his tongue in my mouth. I wanted his erection to keep frotting mine.

Sean adjusted his erection, and I adjusted mine. I peed through my erection and then washed the sunscreen off my face. We walked out of the locker room and toward the door.

Just before we reached the door, Sean pointed to a door and ordered, "In there. I'll be in shortly."

I went through the door to find myself in a single person bathroom. Sink, urinal, toilet, and shower.

Not long after I entered, Sean followed, locking the door behind himself.

"Hey," he said, turning to me.

"Hey," I said back. "I wasn't expecting this."

"You're not going to drive all that way for nothing," he said. "I won't have it."

"I'm glad," I said, kissing him softly while stroking his ears. I loved his ears.

"Strip," he ordered, as he removed a small tube from his pocket and placed it on the counter. He had gotten it out of his locker. I didn't know what it was then, but I had a pretty good suspicion now.

"Are you going to fuck me?" I asked.

"Like you've never been fucked before," he promised.

He stripped as I did. When we were naked, we stood shoulder to shoulder and looked at each other in the mirror behind the sink.

"Look at the head on that thing," he said, looking at my erection.

"Look at all of you," I said, admiring his beautiful face and equally beautiful body.

We started making out again. We kissed and kissed and kissed. As we did, he worked our erections together with his right hand.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I pulled my mouth from his. I ate both of his armpits. I hungrily licked his nipples, knowing there was a direct connection between them and his dick. I licked through the hair on his chest, down his treasure trail, and — finally — along his shaft and over his head.

I took him in my mouth and tried to suck him dry. I could taste his precum. There was a sweetness to it. Pineapple juice, I thought.

"Fuck, you're good at that," he said, stilling my head with his hands and fucking my mouth like he had dry fucked me in the alcove. Hard.

"I don't want to cum in your mouth," he said. "I want to cum in your ass."

I didn't need to be told twice. I stood, turned to the sink, and braced myself against the counter.

I felt a tongue at my rim. Sean ate me out like he kissed me, messily and ravenously.

I love being rimmed. If he had kept at it, I'd have cum just from that. I had before. Many times.

When his tongue left me, I moaned in disappointment. The disappointment didn't last long.

Sean grabbed the small tube of what I suspected was lube. He coated my rim and then slid a finger in, as far as it would go.

"Silky smooth," he said. "And so fucking tight."

He removed his finger and slid his thumb in. "Relax and open for me," he whispered, nipping at my neck with his teeth.

He removed his thumb and slid two fingers in. I appreciated his effort, but I was impatient. I needed to get fucked. Badly.

"Sean," I said. "I'm ready. Fuck me."

"Oo," he said, removing his fingers. "Eager boy," he said, slapping my ass so hard it stung. "I like that."

I was eager. So was he.

He pushed in as I pushed out. With little effort, he was all the way in. I was ecstatic. My channel was on fire.

He started slowly but quickly worked into a happy rhythm. I watched his face in the mirror as his groin slapped into my ass cheeks. If someone was outside that door, they'd have to know that someone was gettting fucked behind it. We were making all the fucking noises. It was like pornography.

I looked at my face. I was flush with pleasure. Sean knew how to fuck.

He smiled at me. "You're a great bottom," he said.

"You're a great top," I grunted.

I don't know how long he fucked me like that, as time seemed to be both standing still and speeding by. I remember thinking, "Sean's got stamina" as he delivered himself over and over and over.

"Fuck, Sean, this is so good," I said, my insides churning with need and pleasure.

"So fucking good," Sean agreed.

He kept going. Boom. Boom. Boom. I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

Just as I was wondering, Sean pulled out of me, told me he needed a break, and told me to turn around. I was disappointed. Of all positions, "prison rape" was my favorite, especially when there was a mirror and I could watch myself get railed.

But, like he said, I'm a great bottom. When I bottom, I follow the top's lead. I want to give the top what he wants.

I turned around. Sean lifted me to the counter and hooked his arms under my knees, which pressed my head and shoulders to the mirror.

"I'm gonna fuck you like I wanted to fuck you against my locker," he announced.

Sean easily re-entered me. I do not usually like this position, but the up-curve of Sean's dick changed my perspective, at least this once. Every time he slid forward, the silkiness of his head slid over my prostrate, sending a wave of pleasure rippling through me, from the inside out.

I told him what he was doing to me. "Right there, Sean," I said. "You're fucking killing me right there."

He leaned in and kissed me. "I don't want to kill you," he said. "I want to fuck you. I want never to stop fucking you."

"Then keep fucking me," I said into his mouth. "But, do it harder."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

He stood ramrod straight and started to pound me. He raised his arms and put them behind his head, pile driving me hands free. Boom. Boom. Boom. He was watching himself in the mirror, which I found incredibly hot, not vainglorious.

I also found his armpits incredibly hot. Armpits are one of my jams.

I got lost in the pounding. I closed my eyes, rolled my head to the side, and let Sean's dick sweep me away.

"I can't go any harder," he said.

"You're doing great," I said. "I'm getting really close."

I couldn't remember the last time I had an anal orgasm. But, I was now crashing toward one.

I hooked my feet together behind him. He kept driving, sweat forming on his chest and forehead.

"I haven't fucked like this in a long time," he said.

I have never been fucked like this, I thought to myself. I decided to flatter him.

"I've never been fucked like this," I admitted.

The flattery worked. Sean leaned in, kissed me hard, and told me he wanted to feel me cum around his dick.

"You will," I said. "I'm getting close."

"Me, too," he answered. "Hold on. We'll go together."

"Bite me," I said, extending my arm.

He looked me confused.

"Bite my fucking arm when you cum," I demanded. I liked being bitten.

He bit down on my bicep, just as I had hoped.

I felt volcanic, molten lava boiling in my channel and starting to run. I erupted, my prostate exploding in pleasure. My dick followed, cum blasting onto my chest and stomach. I shot too many times to count. I had never shed that much cum.

My anal orgasm caused my channel to clench, which took Sean over the edge. I could feel him coating my smoothness, quelling the fire that was burning in it.

I was spent. I felt boneless, gelatinous.

Sean was also spent. He let go of my bicep and leaned into me, his head on my shoulder, covering it with his sweat.

"Jesus Christ," I whimpered.

"And all the Apostles," he joked.

I didn't want him to leave me. I wanted him to stay inside of me forever, just like this.

I didn't get what I wanted. He gently, slowly pulled himself free and stepped back.

"Let me see it," he said.

"What?" I asked, incredulous.

"I want to see it. Push it out. I want to see what I did."

I pushed and felt the evidence of what he had done leave me. I didn't hear it hit the floor, but I knew it had to have. There had been a lot, and it was now all gone.

"That was so fucking hot," he said.

I didn't think so. I had no interest in ever seeing that. Different strokes for different folks, I guessed.

We wet paper towels and cleaned ourselves. I cleaned cum from my chest and stomach. He cleaned ass from his dick and sweat from his forehead and chest.

He started to dress, so I unseated myself and started to do the same.

When we were dressed, I wet another paper towel and went to clean up the puddled evidence of what he was done.

"Don't," Sean said. "I don't want anyone to know it was me, but I want them to know what happened in here."

I didn't understand his thoughts. Cum on a floor does not mean one man had just railed another man into oblivion, but it was not my club, and I was not going to argue. I wasn't that excited to smear cum around in any event. If I was, I'd have played with the cum on my chest and stomach.

I pulled up my sleeve and looked at my arm. I was already bruising. Sean had bit me hard.

I showed him, and his eyes went wide. "Next time," I said, "I want you to bite me over and over." I loved being bitten.

"You go first," he said. "I'll meet you at your car."

He did. "Thanks for coming," he said. I'm pretty sure he was making a play on coming and cumming, so I smiled widely at him.

"I wouldn't have missed it," I said, earnestly. "It was a great day."

"It really was," he confirmed.

We didn't hug good-bye. He was worried about audiences, so we shook hands, like civilized adults.

"Drive safely," he said. "Oh, and I'll call Charlie and fill him in, so be real when he asks you about today."

"I will," I said. "We don't have secrets."

We don't.

About halfway home, I received a text from Charlie. "Sean called. Wow. Are you sore?"

I was, actually. "Totally," I dictated back.

"Hurry home," he said. "I'm so horny. I want you to fuck me the way he fucked you."

"Can do," I dictated again.

I did. But, that story is for another time. This story is about Sean.