Date: 6/13/2017, Categories: Gay, Author: Tyde, Source: LushStories
-- ST. LOUIS -- Scott got a solid job offer in St. Louis five years ago. By that point we had been together a year and half and had become addicted to how hot and sweet the relationship was. When he told me about his promotion and said, "I'll suck your dick if you move to St. Louis with me." I said, "You'll suck it anyway! But if you do a good enough job, I'll consider it." I playfully grabbed the top of his head and pushed his face to my belt. He laughed and tackled me, ripped open my jeans, ate my cock and drank my cum on the kitchen floor. He did a damned good job, as he always did, so I moved with him to St. Louis. I settled in there okay. For a steady income, I got a job as bartender at the corner pub. Around the time Scott and I met, I had started freelancing as an editor. Since I managed most of my contracts through email and Skype, it did not matter where I lived. Even in St. Louis I could continue to develop my business, and I did. But -- I had grown up in Philly and although St. Louis, nice as it was, just wasn't quite doing it for me. After a few years, neither where Scott's blow jobs. His career as a sales exec was stressing him out and he started bringing that tension home with him. My erratic bartending schedule complicated things, too, and both issues worked against us having time to keep our relationship healthy. One night the bar was dead so the manager let me leave early. When I got home I heard someone banging Scott upstairs in the bedroom. I stood in the ... foyer and listened. It was strange to hear Scott putting more energy into sex with a stranger than he did any more with me. It was even more telling to realize that I was less upset about Scott's cheating than I was curious about what the guy pumping a cock into my boy friend looked like -- did he have a broad back, was his butt round and tight, were his balls low and heavy, and were they bouncing on Scott's ass causing that faint double slapping sound I was hearing? Scott yelled out, "Yeah, fuck me!" That broke the spell for me. I quietly put my keys down on the hall table and went to the kitchen bar. I poured myself a scotch and went to the living room. I made myself comfortable on the couch. My newest editing project was on the coffee table, so I picked it up and started working. About thirty minutes later, I heard an unfamiliar voice calling from the top of the staircase, "Are there beers in the fridge? I'll get us some." He thumped down the stairs with his eyes on his feet. When he got to the bottom landing he looked up and saw me. He froze. I satisfied my curiosity by scanning his naked body. His back was not broad and his butt was flat. His decent but average cock was glistening with lube. I was right about that slapping sound though. He had big balls hanging beautifully in a low, loose sack. Impressive, I thought then said, "Beer is in the fridge. Help yourself." He gaped at me a moment then covered his crotch with his hands and ran back upstairs. Ten minutes later he ...