Passing on the Pussy
Story Codes: MM, Consensual, Exhibitionism


Passing on the Pussy
By Brenda Hastings


After fifteen years of marriage to a woman who would rather spend her nights in the arms of the evenings latest
catch, Michael Griffith decided he was over everything pussy.

“Woman just don’t do it for me anymore,” he told his best friend and business associate, Jeff.

Jeff laughed and took another swig from his beer. “Sarah was a whore, Mike, you can’t swear off all women just
because this one didn’t make the cut.”

“Oh, I think I can,” Mike opposed.

Just then a tall, leggy blonde with killer tits sauntered past. Jeff nearly broke his neck turning to take a better
look. “You mean to tell me that does nothing for you?”

Mike shook his head. “Not even in the slightest.”

“Man, I think you’ve hit your head one too many times. That bitch is smokin’.”

Mike shrugged and slapped back the rest of his drink before signaling another from the bartender. “Maybe I
am just getting too old for the game.”

Jeff laughed. “I agree with the getting too old part, but to say no to all women? I mean it, man, something ain’t
right with you. I’ll be on my death bed and still be playin’.”

The bartender, a cute brunette with sea-foam, green eyes placed Mike’s drink on the counter and smiled. Mike
hardly noticed.

“Dude, that bitch has been totally flirting with you all night and you haven’t even tipped her! You need to get
laid. Snap you back into reality some.”

Mike shook his head. “I’m not interested.”

Jeff polished his beer and slammed the bottle on the counter. “Maybe you need some dick up your ass to see
the bigger picture here,” he half-heartily joked as he signaled another beer. When the brunette replaced his
empty, he reached out and touched her hand and winked. She simply smiled and glanced at Mike before
pulling her hand back and moving to help the other patrons.

“You just got burned,” Mike joked.

“Cuz the bitch wants your cock, not mine.”

“Nah. You can have her. You’re good looking, it won’t take much to get her in your bed,” Mike spoke while
shelling a peanut from the community bowl.

Jeff dropped his jaw and stared at his friend. “Maybe cock is what you want.”

Only half listening, Mike looked up and stopped chewing. “I’m not gay, Jeff.”

“Look, man,” Jeff said as he rose to his feet and tossed some money on the counter with another wink at the
brunette. “I don’t care what you are or aren’t, but you need to get laid and get back to your usual charming
self. Unless it’s with that bitch there,” he said as he gestured to the brunette, “I don’t want to know the details. I
have to get home. Nancy is ovulating, and you know how that shit goes.”

Mike made a sour face and popped another peanut in his mouth. “My balls hurt just thinking about it. Have a
good one.”

Closing out a bar was something Mike had done practically every night when he was a younger man. Looking
around at the dwindling patrons, and then glancing at his wrist watch, he realized it wasn’t something he had
ever thought he’d be doing now. But here he was, fifty-two years old and closing a bar – alone – and not liking
a single second of it.

The brunette flashed him one of her famous smiles, and his stomach churned. What was with him lately?
Whether Sarah was a whore or not, whether the marriage was a sham or not, a flirting smile by a random pretty
woman should still make him hard. Yet, here he was, surrounded all night by women of all shapes and sizes,
some he could easily have left with at any given time, and he wasn’t the least bit turned on. Maybe Jeff was
right, maybe something was wrong with him.

Chugging back the remainder of his vodka, Mike chuckled. Fifty-two years old. Fifty-fucking-two years old.
Tossing a twenty on the counter, Mike grabbed his jacket and turned to leave, only to walk right into a passing
patron. “Oh, sorry, man,” Mike apologized while straightening his jacket.

“My fault, I wasn’t looking where I was walking,” the stranger replied.

Mike glanced up, and opened his mouth to reply only to be slammed in the gut with overwhelming emotion.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The man asked in concern.

Mike imagined he looked much a fool, and closed his mouth, reminding himself to breath before attempting to
speak once more. “No, I’m sorry, I just ... damn. Pardon me for being bold here, but you are fucking gorgeous.”
Even as the words left his mouth, Mike couldn’t believe he had even thought them. Thinking – telling another
man he was gorgeous? What the fuck was up with that?

The man smiled and reached his hand out. “Damien.”

Mike smiled back; again, without will. “Mike,” he said as he shook Damien’s hand. The entire three seconds,
Mike couldn’t help but think how strong Damien’s grip seemed. He found his eyes wandering then, from Damien’
s hand, up his arm, to his broad shoulders and firm chest, all the way up to his supple lips and chiseled, square
jaw. Instantly, he felt his cock grow hard. In that moment, he knew his life would never be the same.
“Wanna get outta here?” Damien asked, still holding Mike’s hand.

Mike nodded. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”

The drive was short, and Mike was relieved he wasn’t the one driving. With the swirling images and thoughts
running havoc in his head, he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to focus on the road. As is, the only thing he could
focus clearly on was Damien. Adorning a tight, black tank and matching slacks, the man was dripping with
sexuality that Mike couldn’t wait to explore.

The men had hardly made it to a complete stop in front of a large, white house at the end of a cul-de-sac
across town from Mike’s own house before their hands were fondling one another. And it wasn’t until Damien
had his hand gripped firmly around Mike’s dick did Mike realize he had finally solved his sexual problems.
Even before they were married, Mike and Sarah never had a good sex life. Sure, it was okay, and he would
most always get off in and on her, but it wasn’t fully satisfying. He had always just figured it was her fault; that
maybe she just wasn’t all that good herself and it was reflected onto his outcome. Never once had it crossed
his mind that he could have been the reason their sex was so vanilla.

Glancing at the naked man in front of him now, Mike knew he had been a fool all those years. He knew he was
a chocolate kind of man, and still he settled. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to hit the jackpot, he
would beat himself up for his mistakes.

But, there were more
pressing issues to deal with. Like the fact that his cock was aching to be touched, and his
mouth was watering with the thought of sucking Damien’s own rock, hard cock.

So suck is what he did.

Dropping to his knees, Mike opened his mouth wide and took in Damien’s full length. Sucking and nibbling, he
drank down every last drop as Damien happily fucked his mouth.

When positions changed, Mike was given the best God damned blow job of his life, and took it up the ass with
pride as he would forever be passing on the pussy.

© 2014 Brenda Hastings


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