Mike and Me Sweat Together

I'd known Mike for a long time but we'd become sexually involved only recently. Mike had been straight -- married even -- and for a long time I just assumed our friendship would always be platonic. We never even discussed the fact that I was gay, although Mike was a smart guy and I knew he'd more or less figured it out. But he didn't ever bring it up in conversation, seemed to not even want to discuss it, so I just let it lie. I figured, why fuck up a nice friendship?

Not that I didn't have my fantasies about him. Mike was twenty-five, four years younger than I was, and although he wasn't classically handsome, I had always thought he was extremely appealing. Mike was a big guy, over six two, with broad shoulders, legs like tree trunks, and the biggest feet I've ever seen on a man. He usually wore oversized Adidas or Reeboks and he could easily have passed for a basketball player. He always managed to keep himself in good physical shape, even though he didn't work out regularly and he was overly fond of junk food.

Once the weather turned warm he got in the habit of running around in nothing more than a pair of tight gym shorts, and you'd have sworn the guy spent all his free time doing sit-ups and pumping iron. I guess he just had good heredity, a naturally athletic build. He had a lot of hair on his body, too, thick and black. All in all, he was one fine specimen, a real hunk. Or at least I thought so.

As time went by, I started displaying my body for him, at least as much as I could get by with without being too obvious. Whenever he'd come over, I'd see to it that I was stripped down to my own skimpy shorts, and a couple of times I even arranged it so he'd show up when I was taking a shower. I'd leave the door unlocked with a note telling him to come on back, so he'd be there when I came out, naked and dripping.

He seemed to like what he saw, he never took his eyes off me as I dried myself and I could see the bulge growing in his crotch, especially since Mike never wore underwear or a jockstrap under his shorts. But I still never counted on anything coming of it. The guy was straight, right?

But then Mike's marriage fell apart -- quite suddenly and unexpectedly -- and we were spending almost every evening together, drinking beer after beer and bemoaning the state of the world. We did start talking and well, things just started happening. Sex with Mike was terrific. He was like a kid with a new toy. It was like he was born to suck cock, and I never saw anybody get off like Mike did when he'd shoot his load into my mouth.

But once Mike discovered where his true interests lay, he didn't stop with the vanilla stuff like so many other formerly-straight guys. Mike had his fetishes and his kinks, and the really nice thing is that they turned out to be the same as mine. He'd always start out sort of quiet and reticent and shy, but by the time we were done we'd both be like two fuckin' animals. When Mike and I got together, there were no limits.

It was a Saturday in August, one of those scorchers when you get up early in the morning and it's already hot enough to feel like late afternoon. It was going on noon when Mike called. "Hey, Dave," he said, "if you don't have anything doin' this afternoon, I thought you might wanna come over. I need some help movin' some stuff but I got a twelve-pack in the fridge to make it worth your while. Figured we might mess around later .... well, you know."

"Sure, Mike, what needs movin'?" I asked.

"I gotta lot of boxes upstairs in the hall closet -- mostly books, magazines, just a lotta heavy shit takin' up space, but I can't bring myself to throw 'em out. Thought we could stick 'em in the garage, out of the way."

"No problem", I replied, "let me take a quick shower and throw on some clothes and I'll be right over."

"What's the point in takin' a shower?" Mike asked. "It's hot as hell out and it's not much better in here. I had to turn the air-conditioning off since I've gotta open up the house to move those boxes out. All I've got on is a pair of shorts and I'm still sweatin' like a fuckin' pig. Don't worry about cleanin' up and don't wear any more than you have to. Just get your ass over here. We can always shower up after we're done if you want".

"Well, OK, Mike," I said, "but I haven't had a shower since yesterday morning, I'm probably gonna stink pretty good by the time we're finished."

"Same here. So we're even."

I threw on a jock, gym shorts and a pair of sneakers, and headed on out. I figured if I wanted a T-shirt later, I could wear one of Mike's, although driving over, I couldn't imagine I would. The heat was intense, and by the time I got to Mike's house, I was already soaked with sweat. Mike came to the door wearing only a pair of tattered, tight gym shorts as promised, shirtless like me and barefoot, too. He thrust a cold can of beer into my hand. "Let's get to work so we can play later," he said. His bare torso was already gleaming with sweat. He ducked into the kitchen to get himself a can, then headed upstairs and I followed.

There were about twenty boxes to be moved, all of them heavy, and the house really did seem hotter than the outside. We guzzled our beer continually -- three cans each after half an hour -- but it didn't do much good. The hair on our chests, bellies and legs was matted to our skin with the sweat that continually poured from our bodies. Mike's shorts clung to his midsection and outlined his crotch, advertising the fact that he didn't have on anything underneath, as usual.

When he sat down at the top of the stairs to rest, I sat down a few stairs lower, and looked up to see Mike's balls falling out of his shorts. I noticed that my tennis shoes were uncomfortably hot and squishy, since I hadn't bothered to put socks on and my feet were sweating as much as the rest of me. I figured if Mike could work barefoot I could too, so I pulled my shoes off and threw them aside.

"About time you did that," Mike laughed, "I was worryin' about you steppin' on my toes. Anyway, who the fuck needs shoes in this heat? If you gotta do a job like this, you might as well be as comfortable as possible doin' it."

"Yeah," I said as I stood up to stretch, "I don't know why I wore this fuckin' jockstrap either, it's drivin' me crazy."

"You know what I think of those things," Mike said with a grin, momentarily pulling the front of his shorts up to expose his cock and balls.

I just laughed as I took my shorts off so I could get rid of my jock. I was naked for a few moments before pulling the shorts back on and I knew that Mike was staring at my partially hard cock, but nothing more was said.

We went back to work, both of us now barefoot and wearing nothing underneath our shorts. I was a lot more comfortable but we weren't any drier. Between the heat and the beer, Mike and I looked like we'd just been taking a shower together, although we sure didn't smell that way. Even at a distance, I could smell Mike's sweat, and I figured Mike could smell mine, too. When Mike would lift a box up to me and expose his furry dripping armpits, the stench was almost overwhelming.

Finally, the job was done, and we slowly walked away from the garage toward the house. I followed Mike into the kitchen, then headed for the bathroom, since my bladder was painfully full.

"Where ya goin', Dave?" Mike asked me as he opened the refrigerator.

"Gotta take a piss," I answered. "After all that beer I'd think you'd have to go, too."

"Yeah, I've gotta piss, too, gotta piss bad. But Dave -- just hold off awhile, OK?" His tone was suddenly quiet and I understood exactly what he was getting at.

"Sure, Mike. No problem," I replied.

"Thanks." Mike cocked his head funny, still looking at me, and handed me another can of beer. "Let's go out onto the patio and kick back."

Mike's patio was really just an expanse of concrete surrounded by a privacy fence. He didn't have any patio furniture, just a couple of Styrofoam mats thrown on the ground. Mike put the beers down, then sprawled out on one of the mats, face up. He put his hands behind his head, exposing his funky armpits again. I joined him on the adjacent mat, then got up on one elbow so I could look at him.

"Dave, I really appreciate the help, even if we both smell like a fuckin' locker room now," Mike said. I just smiled and ran my hand through the wet hair on Mike's chest, inhaling the stench from his unwashed body. We both had full erections now that stretched the thin fabric of our shorts to the limit. I reached down and pawed at Mike's hard cock through his shorts.

"I think these shorts are gettin' in the way," I said. Without a word, Mike immediately reached down to the waistband, raised his body, and pulled his shorts off. His thick black bush of pubic hair glistened wetly at the base of his throbbing penis; a drop of pre-cum oozed from the swollen head. I ripped my own shorts off and we embraced, completely naked. We kissed and felt each other up for awhile, then I moved us into a 69 position so we could suck each other's cocks. But the stench was so intoxicating we ended up just licking and sniffing each other's dirty, sweaty bodies -- nipples, armpits, assholes, crotch hair, cocks, balls -- nothing was off limits. Mike's sweaty body tasted like ambrosia. We were like two crazed animals in heat.

I started sucking Mike's cock. Before long, I noticed that he seemed awfully close to coming, so I pulled away and got up on my knees. I knew Mike liked dirty talk so I figured I'd have a little fun. "Hey, you're makin' me do all the work," I said as I looked down at his hot, sweaty body. "C'mon, Mike, fuck my face," I pleaded. "Ram that hot, hard cock down my throat as far as it'll go. Choke me with it, man!"

Mike picked up on it immediately. "I'll do better than that, cocksucker," he said as he stood up and faced me, grinning. "I'm gonna cum all over you. Dave, you're gonna think you're swimmin' in my hot cum!"

Mike was so turned on that he didn't really even have to jack off -- he just gave his cock a few tugs and he started shooting his hot load all over my face. Mike's semen splashed against my nose and cheeks before starting to drip down onto my hairy chest. Mike got down on his knees himself and licked his own cum off my body, not swallowing it. Then he stuck his tongue in my mouth and we started swapping it back and forth. The whole scene was too much for me. I came without even touching myself, spraying my load all over the top half of my hot, sweaty body.

Mike stood up and looked down at me as I finished shooting. My belly, chest, and neck were dripping with cum again -- my own this time, instead of Mike's. Mike started laughing.

"God, Dave, you really look like you could use a shower now!"

I already knew what Mike had in mind. "Yeah, I really want one," was all I said. I lay back down and sprawled on my back so there wouldn't be any doubt about the kind of shower I wanted.

Mike straddled my body, planting his big feet on either side of my semen-coated torso. He held his now-flaccid cock and aimed it at my face. I could see Mike straining, but for a moment the stream just wouldn't start, even with such a full bladder. I just lay there looking up at him and let him do his thing, knowing that nature would eventually take its course. Soon, a thin dribble of urine started coming out of Mike's cock, splashing languidly on my belly and chest. Then the dam burst, the dribble became a steady flow, and Mike was pissing on me in earnest. He splashed the stream onto my face, and I opened my mouth to gulp down as much of Mike's acrid, hot juice as I could swallow. The flow seemed endless, filling me up to the point where I finally lost control, pissing all over myself as I continued to drink from Mike's cock. Mike stopped his flow and just looked down on me for a minute as I pissed on myself. Then Mike turned around and kneeled over me, grabbing my spewing cock so the stream of piss would wash all over his own face and chest. Mike started drinking it, slurping at it like he was at a water fountain, and at this point, his own urine started flowing again. This time, I didn't drink, but reached up and grabbed Mike's cock so I could direct the piss to flow all over my upper body. Mike and I hosed each other down with our hot yellow streams until we were both completely soaked and dripping, lying in the middle of a huge pool of urine.

Eventually, my flow ran out, then Mike's did, too. As Mike stood up and turned around, the sun glinted off his slick, wet chest. His penis swayed back and forth, shaking residual drops of urine onto my hairy, wet torso. Once Mike was standing, more piss dripped off his body onto me like yellow dew. The hair on Mike's chest and crotch and legs was all wetly plastered to his body as if he'd just stepped out of a tub full of hot urine. Mike kneeled down again, still straddling my body but facing me now, and lapped up the piss that had pooled on my hairy chest and belly. Then he stretched out on top of me and we kissed long and hard, tasting and smelling each other.

By this time, we were both starting to get hard again. When Mike sat up, I reached out and started gently stroking his cock, moving my hand slowly up and down the piss-slick shaft. Mike dismounted my wet torso, and we resumed the 69 position we'd been in before our full bladders took control. This time, though, we were content to merely suck each other's cocks, plunging our hot organs deep down each other's throats. But our earlier scene had been too hot, and there were still too many reminders.

Both of us reeked of sweat and piss, and our bodies were still sticky and damp with both. The mats we were lying on were covered with great pools of urine that remained warm from the scorching sun, and as Mike and I sucked each other off, we both realized that we had to piss again, owing to the prodigious amounts of beer we'd consumed. Before long, two more loads of hot semen were spurting into two hungry mouths, and this time, we both swallowed hungrily.

As our cocks went soft, neither of us came up for air. We both knew what was coming next. It was what we both wanted, both for our own pleasure and for the pleasure of giving. So when the piss started flowing again, we just moaned with pleasure as our mouths ballooned with each other's hot urine. We both started swallowing deeply again, eager to fill our stomachs with more and more of each other's recycled beer.

Finally, Mike got up on his knees and turned around to straddle my torso again. My piss was dripping out of his mouth and running down his chin. His limp cock and balls rested comfortably on my damp midsection. "Hey, Dave, ya wanna take a shower NOW?" Mike asked me with a grin.

"Nope," I replied, "I thought maybe we'd have another beer now -- unless you've got some more of that recycled stuff."

"Well, after awhile ...." Mike laughed.

"You know," I said, "we could go all night like this if we wanted to, Mike."

"Dave, why don't you just plan to stay over?" Mike offered. "I can make up the waterbed with the rubber sheet for tonight, we could turn it into a REAL waterbed." He seemed on the verge of laughing at his own joke, but then he paused, scowling somewhat. "Shit, what are we gonna do about food? I don't have much here, but I don't wanna have to get dressed, either. Anyway, we both stink!"

"C'mon, man, that's what drive-through windows are for," I said. "We can bring it back or just eat in the car."

"So I guess no showers, right?" Mike was obviously getting into the idea, and his cock was starting to get hard again. I grinned.

"Only the kind we make ourselves," I replied.

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written by warrengay