Fucked From Behind

I made up a story to my wife, and she wasn't too upset at me staying away overnight. The big day arrived and I boarded my train in London.My stomach was turning somersaults as I arrived at my destination, this was my first arranged meeting. My other meetings were spur of the moment. I was thinking of boarding the next train home but that would be the one he would be on. There was a small hotel not far from the station so I went and booked a twin room, then headed back to the station. I sat in the bar with a cold beer wondering if I should go home, when I was asked if the other seat at my table was free. I looked up and there stood the person I had travelled to meet a gorgeous slim guy. I said please help yourself, he replied later will do looking straight at my lap, can I have a beer first. We chatted about nothing in particular, he then asked if we could head to the hotel. We bought a bottle of wine on the way, so we could go straight to our room. When we got to our room, he. Yet his eyes coursed over my torso&hellip,then I realized my jaw was slack too&hellip,Holy Shit&hellip,my sons cock was now rigid&hellip,it had to be close to my ex lovers&hellip,I shook my head coming to my senses. This all happened in less than a minute. I gurgled out, Ah&hellip,sorry, should not have opened the door so fast. Uhmm&hellip,let me get out of your way as I stepped over him. In and effort to not step on him&hellip,had to look, my eyes automatically went back to his cock. My psyche tried in vain to supplant morality for the lustful vision of my own sons penis floating in my brain. Damn&hellip,I needed a drink. Made it down to the beach, spread a towel on a beach chaise, adjusted my sunglasses, and got comfortable. The first daiquiri soothed the quandary of my conflicting thoughts and started me on the path to ignoring some of my inhabitations. I rationalized that maybe my multiple week build up of expectations might have triggered some psychosis, so to get my mind off.
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