I discover a bate buddy in a co-worker..

This is fantasy of mine. The characters are loosely based on real people. All of them are considerably over 18 years old.

—

Tom opened his door wearing a long bathrobe. The gap in the front showed he was bare under the robe to his waist. He invited me in with a smile and a firm handshake.

“Johnny Angel, how I love him,” he sang. For some reason, this was his standard greeting for me. My name is John, but the lyric was a bit of a stretch. Especially since he sounded nothing like Shelley Fabares or Karen Carpenter.

“Bastard.” This was the way I usually replied.

“Three.”

I looked around the apartment, taking in the comfortable furnishings. A lazy-boy armchair and a sizeable well-stuffed sofa faced a large flat-panel TV. A sturdy coffee table with stacks of magazines filled much of the space between the couch and the TV. I might have been looking at my own living room. Perhaps, all older men living on their own had the same taste. Though, come to think of it, my house reflected my dear wife’s ideas more than mine. God rest her soul.

He asked if I wanted something to drink, a beer or a soda. I declined though if something stronger had been offered, it would have been welcomed. Our get-together was anything but typical.

He waved me to the couch while he went towards the armchair. As I sat, he used a remote to click on the TV. A raunchy hardcore scene soon dominated the room. A busty blonde was getting gangbanged by many black dudes on the screen. My cock stiffened.

“Sorry. We have to keep the volume low because of the neighbors. I wish I could turn it up so we could hear the slut’s cries,” Tom said.

I nodded, focused on the sight of two big black cocks stuffed into the wet pussy of the porn actress.

“Hey, Johnny, get your dick out, and let’s get the session started.” At this, I glanced at him. Tom was still standing. He pulled at the tie at the front of the robe, letting it open, revealing his naked body. A quick appraisal showed me that he had shaved his area, which looked erotic. I was relieved to see his cock was no larger than mine and his body matched my fitness.

I stood, took a deep breath, and began to strip down. He tossed a white towel which landed on the couch behind me. “Sit on that to soak up the lube and precum,” he told me.

As my jeans and briefs fell to my ankles, I asked him, “Is this scene your idea of something tame?”

*

Let me explain the reason for this question.

Tom is a co-worker. Though financially comfortable after retiring two years ago, I had too much time on my hands. I took a part-time job as a security guard to fill some of the empty and lonely hours. Day shift security provides plenty of social contact for an old guy like me. Since most of the employees are younger, it energizes me to be around them.

I didn’t know Tom enough to think of him as a friend. He worked the swing shift. Our interactions had been chiefly passing on information about the job. He takes over my patrol duties on the four days I work. We shared scraps of a personal nature as he walked alongside me as I left the building.

That’s how I learned we are the same age. Tom is a lifelong bachelor and is a fellow porn addict.

It might seem strange that such an embarrassing fact would come to light. There is so much shame associated with pornography and masturbation that the subjects are rarely discussed. Even, or perhaps, especially, between friends. Maybe that is just my age showing. Perhaps young guys talk about wanking always. It was the first time I’d ever spoken to anyone about it. 

About a month ago, I said, “All I have to look forward to is a long lonely evening.”

Tom replied, “You can always do what I do.” He smiled knowingly, then continued. “I enjoy the company of Rosie Palm and her five sisters while watching online porn.”

I chuckled aloud. The first time I’d heard that old chestnut, my Drill Instructor used it to let us recruits know what maggots we were. “Rosie and her sisters were the only girlfriends any of us could or would get,” he shouted.

When I mentioned it to Tom, he said, “At least all six of them know what I like. Plus, they are cheaper than a woman.” He strode off with a pat on my shoulder to begin his rounds.

In the following days, Tom described his addiction. He shared porn websites he liked and numerous kinks that turned him on. He began greeting me with a number. When I asked what it signified, he told me it was the number of days he’d edged since his last ejaculation. 

I asked him why he jerked off without cumming. “The more days I go without nutting, the bigger the load and more satisfying my orgasms are,” he explained. It made sense. I had noticed it myself.

It wasn’t long before Tom broached the idea of getting together for a jerk-off session. “I’ve been hoping to find another bate buddy for years. You could come to my place, bring some of your favorite porn, and we can kick back and enjoy it together,” he said.

“Yeah, sure.”

At first, it seemed like he was joking. By the third time he suggested getting together, he sounded serious. I began to think about it. It was a crazy idea, but somehow that made it sexier. It reminded me of furtive trips to porn theaters. Memories of being among other men while jerking off in the dim lighting were great for late-night masturbation sessions. Adult theaters were a thing of the past around here. Such arrangements as Tom’s invitation might be how today’s men got the same thrill as we did back in the day.

As we walked to my car this Monday afternoon, Tom asked again. “I’d like to come over. When do you want to do it?” I questioned in turn.

“How about Saturday afternoon?”

“Let’s do it!” I agreed.

He grinned, slapped me on the shoulder, and walked away. I could hear him singing, “Johnny Angel, how I love him …”.

“Bastard,” I called after him.

He probed deeper into my porn tastes during the following three shift changes. His excuse was the need to put together a playlist of videos. “Johnny, the goal is to build the heat to a climax. Start tame and gradually get nastier,” he explained.

“Sounds great.” It did, but I thought how long he expected the session to last. If it was to be quick, I planned to edge each day to save up a heavy load. However, an extended session would require me to cum every night to relieve the pressure. Then I could last a long time.

I couldn’t help but climax each evening as I wondered about meeting with Tom. The memories of porn theater jerk sessions filled my mind. Sitting in the homoerotic atmosphere and watching men stroking their cocks out in the open were some of the hottest times of my life. The best was one late-night visit when an older gentleman sat beside me, wrapping a hand around my hard cock. It felt even better than one of my wife’s rare blowjobs. When I timidly took his hot shaft in my hand, I nearly swooned.

I wish I’d been able to hold back my orgasm for hours. Unfortunately, I shot my load within minutes of touching his veiny rod. The combination of a stranger tugging my cock and me stroking his was too much.

The wondered of jerking Tom’s cock while watching hot porn sent me over the edge every night.

*

Somewhere in that flashback was the reason for the question, “Is this scene your idea of something tame?”

“The tame stuff is the magazines in front of you. See if there is anything in those pages that gets you going,” Tom said. “

I picked up a girly rag off the top of the stack on the table. I paged through an old copy of Juggs. I was sure that I once owned a copy of the same issue. The center layout showed the lovely Candy Samples spread out in her glory. Marring the photo was a sizeable wrinkly cum stain covering most of her ample cleavage.

This shocked me because I’d never shot my load onto a page in all my time jerking off to printed porn. I didn’t want to ruin any of my collection. I always had to hide the magazine and couldn’t let the cum dry out.

I guess Tom saw me staring at the page because he said. “Candy Samples got gallons of my cum over the years. That load was deposited last week. I made a note of the date in the margin.”

I looked closely at the page, and sure enough, last Wednesday’s date was neatly printed in ink. “You keep a record of your cumshots?” I asked.

“I’m OCD about them, Johnny. I’ve saved all the jerk-off material I’ve used since I was a teen. Some of it is pretty disgusting now because of the layers of sperm. But it is my thing, you know?” he explained.

Tom looked at the screen before hunting in a fold of his chair. He found a small bottle of lube and busied himself with the cap. “Come on, John, this is tame stuff for hardcore addicts like us,” he said, indicating the video. “She is not bound and gagged. The studs are not slapping her around, and there are only four of them anyway. So, yes, I call this scene tame, but it’s still pretty hot. Don’t you think?”

“Yes, it is.” The gangbang scene and magazine no longer held my attention. I watched as Tom squeezed out a stream of oil onto his swollen cock. It glistened as he rubbed the lube along its length and spread it on his smooth-shaven balls. He must have known the sight turned me on. He seemed to be showing off its rampant stiffness.

“Catch,” he called as he tossed the bottle toward me. My reflexives allowed me to grab the container out of the air. I felt absurdly proud of myself.

“I normally jerk off dry,” I admitted. The need to hide my masturbation habit from my wife precluded me from using any aids, such as oils or toys. Even before I married, lube was an unnecessary expense and mess.

“Use as much as you want. You won’t believe how great it feels. Plus, the lube makes the noise of wanking much hotter. The cloth you’re sitting on will soak up any stray lotion or cum,” Tom said. With a chuckle, he added, “But no cumming allowed for the first hour.”

“Tom, I hope you aren’t planning on sharing any BDSM or degrading porn. I’m not really into that sort of stuff,” I said. The coolness of the lube, as it ran down my hot shaft, sent a shiver through me. “Oh … I see what you mean about this stuff.”

“It will feel even better when you begin shaving your pubes,” Tom hinted. I realized I had some homework. “Nothing in the bondage category or anything involving pain. But some women think facials are degrading. I’m assuming you are man enough to love facials. Don’t big cumshots on gorgeous faces turn you on?”

“Yeah, I love them,” I admitted.

He grabbed a remote, pointed to the screen, and brought up a menu for the porn site. He flicked through the offerings until he found one called Quick-cut Big Shot Facials. It started with a bang. A cute blond chick was taking rope after rope of jizz on her face and hair. Immediately after, a slutty looking brunette gets creamed by two huge loads of cum. Another chick followed, and another. Each one appeared for seconds, getting covered with one or two cumshots. The camera seemed focused on the crowns of the cocks rather than the women.

My boner was now drenched with lube. I leaned forward and set the still uncapped bottle on the coffee table. Sitting back against the cushions, I set about coating each square millimeter of my rod and nuts with the slippery liquid. 

The video showed Asian women being covered in semen as dicks spurted on their faces by the dozen. It irked me that the dicks were pixeled. What was the point of that? I closed my eyes as I reveled in the heightened pleasure. “Oh god, I love this stuff.”

“Johnny Angel, how I love him … how I love watching him stroke his lovely cock,” Tom sang softly.

“Bastard,” I sighed. His words were turning me on more than all the rest.

“Johnny Angel, how I love him … his penis is cut just like mine. I love its big pink head.”

“Bastard.” Above the video noise, I could hear the wet, slippery sound of Tom’s fingers stroking his amazing dick. I longed to watch him do it but was afraid to break the spell he was casting over me.

“Johnny Angel … his cock gets bigger with every stroke. It looks delicious … his balls are so full of cum.” Whack … whack … whack … the tempo of Tom’s strokes was made audible by the lube.

“Oh, you fucking bastard,” I said between clenched teeth. My left hand now gripped my hot shaft pumping it in synch with Tom. The urge to shoot my wad grew and grew.

“Stop!” Tom shouted. This loud command made me jump. It woke me from the sexual trance his soft, teasing spell had placed me in. My cock ached with the need to ejaculate. “Get your hand off your cock, Johnny!”

“Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” I complained. But I let go of my rod and stared at the screen. At some point, the facial video ended, and another quick-cut clip started. This one showed shemales getting fucked or stroking their impossibly long clits.

“I had to stop you from busting a nut, Johnny. We still have 43 minutes before that is allowed,” Tom explained. “I guess it would have been partly my fault if you broke the rule. I’m just so happy to have you here. It has been so long since I had a stroke buddy.”

I looked over at Tom and saw the naked man blushing. “I’m enjoying it too. Maybe too much. I was seconds away from cumming.”

Tom rose from his chair, his robe hanging from his shoulders. He walked in front of the screen with his stiff boner leading the way. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. My heart raced when he rounded the coffee table and sat beside me. By sitting to my right, he had positioned himself perfectly for me to stroke his penis.

“Don’t worry, Johnny. I’m only here so I can distribute the lube with you,” Tom said as he reached for the bottle.

“No worries, Bastard.” I was disappointed that the scenario I’d fantasized about for the last three evenings looked off the table.

“I suggest you keep your hands off your dick for a while. You are a lightweight as far as edging goes. Just sit back and watch a pro at work,” Tom said with a chuckle.

He squirted some more liquid over the big head of his hardon. I stared at the gorgeous sight. It was challenging to keep my hands off my own throbbing shaft. He kept applying lube until there was a small pool at the base of his rod. “Ah, I see. You made a reservoir for dipping your thumb into when you need it,” I said.

“I guess I did. I’ve done this so many times I don’t even think about it anymore,” Tom replied. “Johnny is picking up tips, and I wondered you were just horny for my hot cock.”

I looked at his face and saw him grinning from ear to ear. Taken aback by his comment and amusement, I turned to watch the porn clip. Now the quick-cuts showed shemale cocks being sucked by men interspersed with men getting facials. While some of the the cumshots came from shemales, some were definitely fired from studs with fat juicy cocks. As the video continued, the cocks being sucked were no longer shemale clits, but manly cocks.

The volume was turned down, but it was possible to hear some of the soundtrack. Electronic dance music was overlaid with dirty talk by a woman. “You know you love it. Cock and cum are all you think about. Suck it. Lick it. Make it spurt. Cock and cum. You love them. You can not get enough. Worship the phallus.” 

The words were spoken slowly so that each one could be savored. The combination of the voice and the images of cock after cock unloading on men’s faces was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. With Tom at my side wanking on his cock I had to grab my boner again.

Tom must have been watching me because I only stroked my erection a couple of times before he said, “Johnny, don’t stroke it. Just squeeze it gently. Remember, don’t cum no matter how much you want or need to.”

“Oh, Tom, I’m not gay, but this is so hot,” I whispered.

The video ended, and a new one started. It consisted of scenes of huge cocks being masturbated to climax. The theme of them was the power and distance of the shots. Some ropes of goo travel four or more feet. The moans of the men jacking off and the wet noise of their jizz splatting on the floor were the soundtrack. In some scenes, it was apparent that the camera was held by another guy encouraging the jacker on. Sometimes the filmmaker made remarks about what he was seeing when the spurt came. Usually, something along the lines of, “Wow, dude, fucking awesome!”

“Notice they are all young guys. It has been years since I’ve ejaculated even half as far as these dudes,” Tom said wistfully. 

I laughed at his confession. “Surely, these guys must be freaks of nature. They shoot cum like Superman would,” I said.

“Yeah, Johnny! Like Superman wanking for Lois Lane. Do you like watching guys do tributes for women?” he asked.

“Well, of course, I’ve watched some, but I don’t know most of the women that the guys tribute. I don’t watch TV or MTV or see very many movies. I know some porn stars they do, though,” I explained.

“So you watch them for the dick and semen? Nothing wrong with that, Johnny,” Tom said with a smile.

Even though that wasn’t what I meant, I couldn’t deny the truth of his statement. “Well, now that you mention dicks, I like the multiple cock tributes the best,” I admitted.

“Now you’re talking!” Tom grabbed the remote and, after searching the porn site, clicked on a compilation video. It was a series of scenes showing the kind of tributes I liked. Pictures of porn actresses being sprayed with loads from two or more thick cocks. I started stroking my boner again, as did Tom. It was clear that my new buddy was turned on by what we were watching.

In one scene, three dudes jacked over a printed picture of a young porn star. They urged each other on with their dirty talk, calling her slut and whore. Their dicks obscured her image as they stroked. When the three men bumped their glistening knobs together for a few seconds, Tom said, “Yes! Watch this, Johnny.”

One cock erupted, spewing white creamy cum on one of the other hard pricks. The dudes in the video laughed as the cum was used as lube for that jerked cock. Like a chain reaction, that cock erupted, and the sperm from that cock landed on the third, adding a heightened level of lust to the stroking. The final cumshot landed over the image of the porn star. It splattered onto the printed paper covering her tiny tits in a thick layer of goo. The guys ran their cock heads through the pooled cum, murmuring their pleasure in low tones. 

The scene was repeated from two different angles, both in slow motion. Then once more, with tight closeups of the shooting cum. 

“Fuck it, Johnny! I can not wait,” Tom said. He turned off the monitor and stood up. This time he allowed the bathrobe to fall from his shoulders to the floor. Now he was as naked as I, more so since his groin was smoothly shaved.

“Let’s take this into my bedroom.” He turned and walked down the short hallway. I stood and followed him, my penis bobbing in front of me. Looking at his bare backside was like watching myself. Neither of us was a young man anymore, that’s for sure. There was nothing sexy about Tom’s naked bum, and I had no illusions mine was any better. Still, it felt pretty sexy being so casual about our nakedness.

“I prepared something special for our little party,” Tom said, indicating a desk lit by three bright lights. On top of it lay a girlie magazine opened to the center spread of Christy Canyon. “I have two GoPro cameras to film our scene. I hope your penis isn’t camera shy, Johnny.” Two small cameras aimed at the magazine were hidden in the dimness behind the lights.

 

Tom stood at the desk with his rampant cock thrusting up from his groin. “Step up to the plate, Johnny,” he urged with a grin. I strode up beside him with my prick in hand. I felt hornier than a teenager. When Tom placed an arm behind my back and squeezed my waist with a hand, an erotic charge surged through me. “Hey, it’s not gay, Johnny. It’s for mutual support. You don’t want to fall over when you cum do ya?” he asked.