Chuck and I met at a friends wedding reception way back in 1998. His wife was a cute little blond girl and she got along very well with my wife. I use the word was because Chuck and the little blond divorced and went separate ways a couple years ago. Chuck is one of those macho men speeding around in his sports car, racing snow mobiles and ATVs, playing regularly on a basket ball team in a social league and dating as many girls as he can fit into his busy life. Chuck and I have been on fishing trips, tried our hand at water skiing, have the odd beer together and of course he has been to our house for dinner many dozens of times. In other words, we are very close friends with absolutely no secrets we can not share comfortably.

I am happily married, love my wife dearly and I believe I am a pretty good husband. I have no complaints about my sex life; she never refuses a good fuck. I go down on her with my tongue and she has no qualms taking my hard on into her mouth so, Chuck has one question.

"Then why the hell do you go to men's clubs and bath houses?"

I do, not often, maybe four or five times a year but I do drive the hundred miles or so and spend an afternoon at my favorite Turkish Bath away from anyone who may know me.

"Are you gay? Are you queer? Are you a fuckin' perv?"

No, I do not consider myself any of those and I have tried to explain the reasons why I need that extra something once in a while. I try to explain but he is not buying my reasoning.

I started out very shy and reserved but I have been enjoying the trips for three years now and admit I love being sucked off by a man. I do enjoy a fat cock in my mouth, kissing gentle lips and yes, even pushing my rubber sheathed cock into a stranger's ass. Standing in a steam room admiring young and old naked bodies, round firm asses and handsome guys is erotic and sensuous and stimulating. I can come home and fuck my wife with renewed vigor appreciating her body to the fullest and, she is perfectly satisfied with the outcomes of out love making.

"What if she ever found out?" Chuck continued to probe.

"I am relying on your friendship that she never does," I reply.

"Hey, we are the best of buddies but I can not get my head around you being a cock sucker," he spoke honestly.

"I do not walk the streets looking at guys' crotches," I explained, "I go to the spa because I have learned to enjoy that something extra, that spark that keeps me sexually alive, that satisfaction I can not get with a woman, a secret part of my life I am not ashamed of."

Chuck does not agree with my covert activities but he has remained a very close and trusted friend. Last winter I received an alarming telephone call. Chuck was in a terrible accident and was not expected to live. I raced to the hospital and after making me cool my heels in the waiting room for seven hours, they finally let me see him. My god, he looked awful. Only his nose and mouth could be seen through the bandages that circled his head. Both arms and both legs were in full casts held aloft with cables. Doctors said they would not know the true extent of his injuries until he woke up and even then, it would take a few days to see if he had brain damage. I never realized how much I loved Chuck as a good friend until then, I bawled my eyes out. My wife held me close as tears streamed down her face.

Weeks went by before he began to form words and when the head bandages were removed they revealed many deep sutured wounds to his forehead. My job gave me liberty to visit him most afternoons and of course I went back several evenings as well. What a macho asshole.

"You thought you lost me huh?" he joked flashing his infectious smile.

Thankfully there were no permanent internal injuries but his leg and arm recovery and therapy would take months. He was placed in a private room and even after the casts were removed, he remained in hospital for further therapy until finally; he was escorted to the front door of the hospital in a wheel chair and was able to walk to my waiting car to drive him home. He had a part time nurse watch over him at home and his therapist visited three times a week. My wife and I did his grocery shopping for him and I brought him books. We played cribbage and watched television crime and game shows together to pass the time.

Just before heading home one evening he asked, "Have you been to the big city lately, you know, the spa?"

I told him no but now he was feeling better; I could use a bit of rest and relaxation and was thinking of taking a quick trip. He sort of hummed and hawed and finally blurted out he needed to apologize. "For what?" I questioned, and he began a tale that left me in total awe.

Chuck reflected that he was in hospital for almost six months, six months without sex or the privacy to engage in the opportunity for sex.

He asked if I remembered his therapist. "Yes Don," I replied, "in his middle forties I would say, a nice guy."

"Well Don had to place me on the bedpan, dress and undress me, give me sponge baths, sometimes feed me and pretty well had control of my entire body." Chuck began.

"Okay go on." I urged not knowing where this was going.

"My arms and legs were wrapped up in casts but ah, ...everything else worked, you know what I am saying?"

"Not quite, what are you saying?"

"Come on for fuck sakes," Chuck got angry, "I got hard ons."

"I see, go on."

"One afternoon when Don was giving me a sponge bath I pulled a boner straight up in the air," Chuck looked deep into my face to see my reaction to his tale and went on talking, "Don laughed and said he could take care of that if I wanted." Chuck's voice tailed off.

"And....?"

'Shit man, don't be so sarcastic, he sucked me off, he blew me, my first come in months and he took it all."

I smiled and just nodded my head up and down prodding Chuck to continue.

"All the time I was in the hospital Don took care of business for me, you know what I mean?"

"Yes of course I know what you mean."

"When you brought me home you know Don visited me for therapy three times a week, well, I got my nuts off three times a week."

By then I had a grin that virtually covered my face.

"One afternoon," he continued, "Don took all of his clothes off and laid in bed along side me. He rubbed my body and then slid down sort of 69, you know what I mean?"

"He began sucking me off and putting his finger in and out of my ass hole and licking my balls, I guess I lost it."

"His cock was hard, really a nice cock too and before I knew it, my mouth was wrapped around his cock and I was sucking in return."

"When I came into his mouth he came in mine and I never shrugged, I took it and swallowed shooting and swallowing until we both lay back breathing and panting and laughing."

"You are not in therapy anymore, now what?"

"Don still comes over and sometimes we kiss, we suck each other and he has become a regular friend I will be meeting hopefully for a long time."

"So what you are saying is you finally get what I have been trying to explain to you for the past hundred fucking years."

"Yes," Chuck sheepishly apologized, "I am not a perv or a queer or that shit, I think I understand what you said about that something extra. I will still fuck all the women I can but now I think I will also have some of that something extra, you know ...."

"So, do you want to suck my cock now?" I chuckled.

"Fuck no," he snapped, "nor do I want you to suck mine, that ain't what our friendship is all about but, ah....maybe the next time you head for the big city I just might go with you."