We had known each other since we were kids on the streets of New York; toughguys who hung with a bad crowd in the neighborhood park. Two and a half strikes against us since the cradle. Many years had past since we had seen each other, and we assumed the other had come to a very bad end.

I ran into Bobby in a west coast city so many light years later. Ghosts colliding in a Mexican restaurant with valet parking. Rockn'roll hearts beat on with resilence, against all odds. Over Tequila shots and cold cerveza, we traded recent histories: the jobs, women and kids in our lives. In no time we found we had as much in common as when we were teens bound at the hip on mean Brooklyn streets.

So we managed to get together every couple of weeks for drinks. Soon we werc confiding our ambitions and regrets. Although we had wives and familes we loved, we had to admit the hunger for sex with new women had not faded. We confessed to occasional infidelities with the ladies who had passed through our married lives. Fueled by alcohol, graphic details of our laisons were shared. Two horny middle-age guys hungry for diversion from the grunt and grind of our workaday routines. Two amongst millions.

We were sitting in Bobby's new UV truck one night in the parking lot of a Santa Monica bar. The upholstery of the UV was pungent with promise. New cars come loaded with promises, a buffer to ward off the incantations of encroaching middle age. After a maximum of sex talk, Bobby brought up the subject of three-ways. I admitted I had zero experience in that area. Bobby said he had been seeing an outrageously sexy Latin woman, who taught him tricks he never knew were possible. She also had a preference for an additional partner.

My groin was throbbing with the prospect of the Latina's friend happily traisping via a cell phone call into my lap. But then Bobby surprised me by mentioning the third player in the threesome had been another man. I guess the look on my face caused Bobby to quickly explain he had not secretly turned gay, but as far as sex with a man was concerned, he found it a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The Saint Christopher statue dangling from the rear view didn't tumble onto the dash. Maybe God was sleeping on the job or maybe the deities's lightning rod had seriously misfired, even as Bobby boasted that he received the best cocksucking in his life from the guy in the three-way. So good was the sucking, Bobby admitted taking to private sessions with the man, and he soon found he had an overwhelming desire to reciprocate, which he did without guilt. Jesus bless and save us. Sunday communion was never an issue in Bobby's mind. Body of Christ passeth through those same lips. Bobby continued to kiss his wife and three kids goodnight, without being struck down. His guilt was only skin deep, a flesh wound.

Bobby's lamented the guy-friend had moved out of state with the Latina woman, and Bobby had to admit he really missed the man to man action. Good cocksucking, like opium, Bobby mused, is a taste not soon forgotten.

Bobby said he had come to believe that all people, men and women alike, were essentially bisexual, and he recomended that I try it myself sometime. I have to admit I've had my fantasies about man to man sex, but I had never the opportunity to do anything about it. Even if the sun and stars were to line up in that libidinous zone, I could not swear that I would ever have the nerve to indulge.

But hearing my tough guy, old streets of New York pal talking so openly about sucking cock was getting me hot. Imagining his mustached mouth working my cock over got me harder than I'd been in a long time. No disrespect to my wife intended.

Bobby gave me a look that confirmed he knew the talk was getting me hot.

He laughed and said: "Trust me, guys give the best blowjobs 'cause we know how good it feels."

We drove off, heading for our placid, tax and church certified normal lives.

We had been driving awhile in silence, when Bobby suddenly turned down a dark, tree-lined residential street and parked. All the taxpayers on the block in their post-war homes with the best mortgage rates and 3.5 families were sound asleep. There's comfort in numbers and the disenchanted stick together. I could hardly see Bobby in the darkness, but I felt his hand reach over and rub my dick. I was hard since I had begun fantasizing about Bobby with a cock in his mouth. Without a word, he unzipped me, pulled out my cock and slipped it into his wet mouth. He knew what he was doing, expertly lathering my shaft with a wet tongue bath, licking and lapping my balls and deep throating my cock like the chicks in skin flicks.

Bobby was right about men being the best cocksuckers. He was giving me a sucking like I had never experienced from any of the many women in my life -- and there were some real pros in my history. Bobby was hungry for it and moaning as he sucked, like he never wanted it to end. Neither did I, but I was about to explode and let Bobby know. He just moaned louder and kept working my joint to the point of no return, as I unloaded in his mouth with an intensity that left me a little dizzy and weak in the knees.

With his face resting in my lap, Bobby kept my cock in his mouth well after he had sucked every drop out of it. His lips were wet with my cum.

A lifetime seemed to pass, until he eventually sat back up behind the wheel. More silence, then I heard his zipper go down and I turned toward him, as he slipped his pants down below his knees, revealing his huge, hard cock and hairy balls, which he fondled, while stroking his uncut cock.

I hadn't seen his prick since we were kids pissing our beers away. It was a lot larger than mine and thicker all around. Bobby reached over, took hold of my hand and placed it on his huge dick. Without further urging, I stroked it for a long time, relishing the opportunity in hand, working his substantial foreskin back and forth over that fat cockhead lubed with his pre-cum. I heard Bobby's seat go back and then he pulled me close, gently guiding my head down until my mouth was a breath away from his throbbing cock.

But Bobby didn't nudge me any closer. Moment of truth. The next move would have to be mine.

And so with a lifetime of second thoughts tossed to the winds, I decided to get my first taste of dick and I explored Bobby's fat cock head with my tongue, pushing that abundant foreskin back over the head which was firm and spongy and soon very slick with my wet lips.

Moaning deeply Bobby whispered something like: 'C'mon, put it all the way in your mouth..." I took a breath, opened wide and slowly slid the fat head of his cock into my mouth.

It was at first a little like sucking a fat big tit with an enormous hard nipple, but as Bobby's cock shaft eased into my wet mouth, I had no experience to compare it.

I was sucking cock for the first time and loving every inch of it. Its amazing how some things come naturally. Time seemed to stop, as I worked Bobby's cock in my mouth as if cocksucking was something I had been doing all of my life.

Bobby whispered that I should taste his balls and I got my tongue busy licking them and exploring his hairy groin which tasted musty and sweaty; a scent that was new, not at all distasteful and strangely intoxicating. What I really wanted was my mouth back on that hard cock which I returned to with a passion I never thought possible. Bobby soon started moaning low, and he warned me that he was about to come. I just kept sucking, sucking, licking licking, sucking, sucking licking, sucking, determined to have the total experience.

But I have to admit, when he unloaded in my mouth, it was almost more than I could handle. As Bobby's warm cum gushed down my throat, it caused me to gag a bit. He gently pulled out of my mouth and spewed the last drops of his large load on his hairy belly, which I didn't think twice about licking off. Like I said, I wanted to be sure of having the total experience at least once. Next times can never be counted on.

Mutually spent, Bobby and I sat there in silence. Mutually satisfied. If God sees all we do, we owe it to ourselves to at least enjoy our guilty pleasures. Beware the price paid to mollify a conscience. Passion will always find its way. A few more moments of sanguine silence, and then Bobby mentioned we both had work in the morning. We listened to a jazz station all the way home.

Bobby and I get together every once in a while with the wives, but its our once a week private times that we look forward to .... Our night moves.