Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.
Charles Dickens’s famous opening lines to “A Christmas Carol” seemed grimly appropriate now. Marley had been my friend, my betrayer, and my ex-wife’s lover for the last twenty years. But now he was dead.
We need to go back twenty years to understand this story. I was, I thought, happily married. My wife and I were friends with Marley, a man with a bit of a reputation for sleeping with married women. But I never thought one of them would be my wife, until it was.
I found out when she (her name is Jane) suddenly became reluctant to have sex with me. We had had a reasonably good sex life. Every Sunday morning and once or twice on week nights. I’d have liked more but, honestly, this was fine for me, and I thought it was for her too. I couldn’t understand what the problem was. But, eventually, it all came out. Sex, like the rest of our lives, had become predictable. Boring, even. And then she confessed that she and Marley had been having great sex whenever I had been away for the last six months.
To say that this hit me like a punch in the gut would be an understatement. My whole life seemed to crumble. We had a massive row. We decided it would be better to divorce as Jane would not give up Marley. I had nowhere to go and ended up living in the same house as Jane for a while until I could find a new place of my own. That was hard. I had to sleep in the spare room. At least Jane had the sensitivity not to invite Marley round while I was home, but I knew he’d be there if I went away on business. It nearly killed me.
But, eventually, I moved out, and he moved in. I discovered that having sex with lots of other women was much more fun than it had been with Jane. And they seemed happy together and set for the long term. Somehow, this made her infidelity easier to come to terms with. At least she hadn’t ruined our marriage just for a quick shag. As time passed, we became friends again. Not close, but not hostile. I was civil to Marley if I met him, but did not consider him a friend.
And now he was dead. A sudden heart attack had seen to that. He was dead within two hours of getting chest pains. Jane had been with him when he died and was hugely upset. I sent my sympathies and offered my help with anything, but did not expect her to actually ask me to do anything.
So I was surprised when she phoned me and asked me to call round to our old home. I called round on a Saturday morning, and Jane told me what she needed me for. She’d been able to sort out most things. She’d claimed on his life insurance, and this had just about covered the funeral expenses. Most of the bills had stayed in her name anyway, and so she had not had to change many of those. Marley had not been one to take great financial responsibility.
But she had been unable to access his laptop computer or his tablet. He was still on Facebook and Instagram, and she dreaded him getting “Happy Birthday” messages from people who did not know of his death. If she had access to his accounts, she could put a tasteful notice on the platforms to tell of his death and then close them down. She thought I might be able to help. She also wanted to check through the rest of the computer’s content in case there were any sort of subscriptions or other loose ends that needed tidying up.
Well, I had no idea how to hack into someone’s computer, despite my background in IT. She’d already tried passwords like middle names, birth dates, pets’ names, and so on. I was at a loss. She did give me his username, though, and I said I’d give it some thought. I took his laptop with me.
That evening, I was sitting at Marley’s computer, racking my brain to see if I could guess Marley’s password. Jane knew of Marley’s devotion to our local football club. She’d surely tried all the obvious connections with that? I tried the name of our most famous player. Nothing. Then I added his squad number and changed the “Es” to threes. And, suddenly, I was in.
What I should have done was phone Jane and tell her the news. I should have shut the laptop down and taken it back. But curiosity got the better of me.
I opened the internet browser and clicked on “History.” In the weeks leading up to his death, Marley had been an active user of the Internet. Most of the history was of visits to news sites like the BBC and The Guardian. There was some browsing of football-related sites, and it looked as though he’d been thinking of buying a new car, judging by the review sites he’d visited.
I caught myself looking at this stuff and thinking, this is wrong. He’s entitled to his privacy even if he’s dead. Even if he ruined your marriage. I was about to shut the laptop when one entry caught my eye. It was for “LushStories.” I had no idea what this was, but I clicked the link.
The site opened. Clearly, he had a password set up and stored on his laptop, as I went straight in. I had a look around the site. It didn’t take long for me to realise that this was a place where users could share sexy stories. And not just stories. I discovered pictures and videos of all manner of sex acts. After a bit of digging, I discovered Marley’s profile. He described himself almost accurately, albeit under a false name. 5 ft 11 inches tall, medium build, smoker and drinker, large assets (I personally wouldn’t know about that, but I daresay my ex-wife would). But he also said he was bi-curious, which was news to me and probably would be to Jane. And, on digging a bit deeper, I found he had written some stories of his own and had eleven “friends.”
He’d posted a few photos too in his private library. They were all of his (I assume it was his) cock. It was hard, long, and thick. It seemed odd to think that that organ had been inside my wife. It was certainly bigger than mine, although I was confident enough sexually to know that size really wasn’t everything. I felt a bit guilty looking at it now, but he’d chosen to exhibit it on the Internet and had received quite a few likes and favourable comments. Most of these were from other men, but there were a couple from women, if their profiles were to be believed.
I read his first story. It detailed a business trip and a chance encounter with a man in the hotel bar. They’d ended up in bed together. It was well-written and, I confess, got me quite turned on. It was a weird feeling, being turned on by a story written by my wife’s dead lover.
I found that he’d also been exchanging messages with other site users. Again, most of these were men. Clicking on their profiles revealed that they were either bisexual or the more vague bi-curious. Reading through the messages, I found that he’d been in extensive contact with one man. His user name was “TallPaul73” and he apparently lived within ten miles. It became obvious, from reading the messages, that TallPaul73 and Marley had actually met up. It dawned on me that at least one of the stories written by Marley was about the first meeting with TallPaul73. I’ve copied it out below.
Tall Paul And Me By Ghostey2345.
I was nervous as I approached Paul’s house. We’d met online through LushStories, but this was to be our first face-to-face meeting. My female partner had gone away for a few days, so I didn’t have to make up a story as to why I was out for the day.
I knew Paul was about the same age as me (65) and retired from work. He described himself as bi-curious. He had pictures of his cock on his profile page, but none of his face. I could tell from the cock pictures that he was of quite slim build. His profile said he was 6ft tall. I confess I liked the look of his cock.
This was a surprise for me. In fact, the whole LushStories experience had brought out feelings in me that I thought I had left behind in adolescence. I’d described myself as bi-curious in my profile because that is what I am. I’m curious about bisexuality. I’m not sure if I’m bisexual or simply curious.
And, with those feelings, I approached Paul’s front door. He’d told me he lived alone. He answered the door. He was wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt and looked a little younger than his years. As I’d guessed, he had a slim build. He still had a full head of hair, although it was mainly grey. And a pair of deep blue eyes. He welcomed me with a ready smile.
“Hello, Marley,” he said. “I’m glad you came.”
I entered his house, and he offered me a drink. I opted for coffee. I wasn’t going to drink alcohol at 11:00 in the morning and, anyway, I would have to drive home later. We sat beside each other on a comfortable sofa and drank our coffee. We made small talk about the weather, my journey, and the decor in his house. I think he was as nervous as me about what might happen.
And what might that be? After all, we’d met through a site for exchanging sexy stories. We’d both described ourselves as bi-curious. And we’d seen pictures of each other’s cocks. What was likely to happen?
Fortunately, Paul took the initiative once we’d finished our coffees. I felt his hand on my thigh after we’d put the cups down.
“Is this OK?” he asked.
I nodded. We sat like that for a few minutes. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to place my hand on his thigh. We turned to face each other. And then he kissed me on the lips. This was a surprise. I’d never considered kissing another man, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But it felt natural. We embraced, sitting side-by-side. His hand slid up my thigh until it rested against the bottom of my crotch. I could feel the back of his fingers on my ball sack. I copied his movement.
I could feel my cock growing stiff within my underpants. I made the next move and placed my hand firmly over his crotch. I could feel that he was growing hard through his jeans. He stood up, took my hand, and led me upstairs to the bedroom.
When we got there, he reached directly for my belt buckle. He undid it and then unbuttoned my jeans. He slid his hand inside and felt me through my underpants. I’d opted to wear briefs today, and my cock was straining against the waistband.
We embraced and kissed again. This time, his tongue slipped into my mouth. I initially resisted but, again, it felt right. I unbuttoned his jeans and carefully pulled the zip down. He wore no belt. I felt his hardness through his trunk-style pants. I guess we’d gone through the point of no return.
We broke our embrace. He bent down and pulled my jeans down, and helped me to step out of them. He took my socks off. I did the same for him. We removed each other’s shirts so that we stood facing each other, just wearing our bulging underpants. This was real.
I think we were both nervous and unsure what to do next. But, again, Paul took the initiative. He knelt in front of me, pulled my pants off, and immediately took my cock head into his mouth. It felt amazing. I’d had blow jobs from lots of women, but this was my first from a man. He held my shaft with one hand and gently moved his mouth over the head and a little way down the shaft. The urge to come immediately, from the novelty and excitement of the situation, was almost overwhelming, but I fought it off.
I guided him back up to stand. I took hold of the waistband of his pants and pulled them down. I could see the photos he’d posted were genuine. His cock was thick, hard, and about six inches long. But seeing pictures of it and having it throbbing just in front of me were two very different things. I’d seen pictures and videos of hard cocks but never a real one and certainly never this close. Before I had the chance to chicken out, I knelt down and took it between my lips.
I had never sucked a cock before. I was surprised how it could be firm and spongy simultaneously. I copied what he’d done to me. After a few minutes, Paul pulled me up and led me to the bed.
“I think this will be more comfortable,” he said.
We lay down facing each other and kissed. His hand reached down and grabbed both our cocks and held them together. This was so exciting. And then we each held each other’s cocks and slowly masturbated.
I felt his other hand reaching behind me and seeking my anus. We’d already discussed in messages that I did not want to give or receive anal sex, at least not on this first meeting. I was a little worried, but the feeling of his finger tracing my rim while he gently jerked me off was amazing.
The tip of his finger slipped inside. Suddenly, I wanted more. I pushed my bum out to meet his hand, and his finger slipped in a little further. It got quite tight and hurt a little. He withdrew his finger and sucked it to lubricate it, and then pushed it in as far as he could manage. I guess he found my prostate (something no one, not even me, had done before), and I nearly came straight away.
I moved around into a 69, dislodging his finger. And I took his cock back into my mouth. He was breathing heavily. I worked his cock up and down with my lips, tongue, and hand. He took hold of my cock and sucked and jerked it greedily.
We were both pretty excited. I could not hold out much longer. I told him I was coming to give him the chance to take his mouth away, but he kept sucking. I exploded huge amounts of sticky cum into his willing mouth.
Suddenly, he groaned and jetted what seemed like gallons of sperm into my mouth. We both swallowed.
And that was it. My first sexual encounter with another man. Both of us were sated and just lay there for a few minutes. Then we cleaned up and got dressed.
He offered me another coffee but, frankly, I felt a little embarrassed and just wanted to leave. I don’t know why. I’d certainly enjoyed the experience, and so had he. Perhaps it was so far from my norm that I needed time to process it. Anyway, I left and drove home.
Will I do it again? You bet I will. And next time, I’m taking lube.
The End
I was astonished to read Marley’s story. And even more surprised by how horny it had made me. I wasn’t bisexual, was I? And how much of this was I going to tell Jane?
I decided that the kindest thing would be to delete all the links and search history relating to LushStories and to just hand over the laptop with access to Marley’s Facebook and email, etc.
Although, I first copied down Marley’s username and password. I wanted to read more of his stories.