It was October 2021 and, now aged fifty-four, I'd been away from work for six weeks, recuperating after a hip replacement operation.

Being completely detached from my computer, and probably not helped by the weeks of pain relief medication, on booting up on my first day back I realised I had no idea what my password was. Fortunately, the IT people recognised a long time ago that forgetting passwords is fairly common so had set up secret questions and answers to help employees to reconnect. You know the type of thing, favourite film, mother's maiden name, first kiss. Normally you clicked a button, gave the answers online and were sent a link to reset the password.

Maybe it was because I'd been absent for so long, maybe the IT support person was also looking for something different in their day, but this time, instead of being asked online, my mobile phone lit up as the IT security desk called me.

"Hello, Dick here, how can I help you?"

"Hey, Dick, this is Juan, calling from the Service Desk. We've just noticed someone trying to access your work account."

"Yes, that's me, I've been off for a while and can't remember anything,"

"No worries, let's just run through a couple of things, and get you back up and running. Can you tell me, who was your first kiss?"

And that's when it happened. After thirty years of marriage, and plenty of girlfriends before that, not to mention the few during, I was transported back to that day in December 1984, when, for the first time, my lips were touched and my tongue was sucked by another person. Another person whose name was Chris. But not short for Christine, instead short for Christopher.

Here I was, talking to Juan, and as I told him "Chris," I realised my voice had become a little higher, and my dick had begun to curl itself against the front of my trousers.

Suddenly, I was back in the converted loft of his family home. amber streetlights coming through the roof window, snooker on the small portable television on the dresser. Chris and I had met six years earlier at an introduction to Choir School barbecue in the Forest of Dean. Aged eleven then, we hit it off straight away and enjoyed many pleasurable, innocent years, as we grew through our adolescence, walking, fishing, cycling, and playing cricket. Now, as I thought back to that evening, here I was on my knees, a seventeen-year-old skinny boy, tasting my first cock, greedily slurping on my first taste of someone else's precum, as Chris pumped his fat, circumcised knob in and out of my gaping mouth.

Only a few minutes earlier we had been rough and tumbling on his bed, just as we had done pretty much every time we had a sleepover since we'd first met some six years previously, aged eleven, at that introduction to our Choir School. But that had, until very recently, just been boisterous boys letting off steam before falling into a deep sleep of innocence.

Was it because my voice had now broken, was it because we were at an all-boys school? Whatever, somehow, in the last couple of months leading up to this particular night, I was usually frantically trying to keep my erection pinned between my thighs, so he wouldn't notice. Tonight though, I was helped for the first time, by the skimpy powder pink cotton and lace knickers I had recently acquired from my Saturday job at the local supermarket. As I tried to pull away and go to my camping mattress on the bedroom floor, this time Chris held on and pushed his pyjama-clad groin into mine.

"Don't get off, start bouncing," he whispered, before pulling my head forward and mashing my lips with his.

"What are you doing," I gasped through my nose.

"No point in you going to the toilet to wank yourself off. I've seen you at it, and I can feel the lace of your panties through our clothes. You can have what you've been hoping for these last few months. Take your trousers off and let me see what you've got on down there."

Before he could finish I had frantically yanked my trousers off and pushed my groin towards him. He reached out and traced his finger over the wet spot that was growing by the second. In response I scooted down the bed, feeling my way down his chest, undoing his buttons as I went, before, after licking and suckling his taut rugby player's chest and abs, I arrived at his waistband. My dick is tiny, only four or five inches when it is as hard as it gets. Chris's was at least seven inches, and looked as round as a beer can, as it poked its way through the slit in his nightwear.

One quick glance up at his face to confirm he meant it was all I needed to see the desire and expectation in his eyes.

I'd never kissed anybody before, never felt another person's body skin on skin, never kissed a cock. But I'd read plenty of letters in Forum and knew that, as a minimum, I needed to keep my teeth out of harm's way. Tugging his pyjama bottoms past his dick, it sprung up and bounced off my nose. Oh my god, it was spongy but hard at the same time. The heat coming off it was searing, and Chris had obviously been planning for this to happen because I could smell fresh soap.

Reaching out my left hand, then my right, I lightly gripped with both hands, then leant slowly forward and extended my tongue into his slit, letting it bounce gently across the exposed head. My first taste of cock, my first taste of man juice. What a unique taste, and one that I immediately fell in lust with. I reached my lips forward and gently coaxed the tip into my mouth with my tongue. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I breathed in and started to lower my head over his throbbing, leaking cock. As my bottom lip touched the underside of his swollen helmet, I heard a grunt and an immediate hit of wet warmth, as Chris exploded firstly into my waiting mouth, then my nose, my eyes, and finally my hair. With each explosion, he fell a little further away from me. I'd wanted to feel his meat in my throat, but being coated in his hot, sticky cum was a different level of deliciousness, kind of tangy and sweet and so much of it, I swallowed what was inside my mouth and throat and ran my finger across my face to scoop up the rest.

Chris was looking at me from the bed, sheepish but glinting.

"I couldn't hold back, years I've been wanting to share that with you but never dared."

With that he grabbed my head and pushed his lips back against mine, now running his tongue over my face and licking his own juice off of me. This was too hot and my somewhat neglected penis decided it was time to also let go, unleashing more of its dampness into the pink cotton briefs, the excess oozing through the lacy edging.

This reignited Chris and, having quickly recovered, he pushed me gently to my knees, mounted my face and guided himself carefully into my mouth. After a brief pause to check I was OK he began to slowly pump backwards and forwards, stroking my shoulders in time with his thrusts. Slipping his left hand a little lower he started to squeeze my nipple in his thumb and finger while the rest of the hand pawed my bony chest.

This was love and lust and I felt myself also getting hard again. I reached my right hand down to my undies, gripping his buttock with my left to keep my balance. I synchronised my head bobbing with a massage of his bum cheek, gradually edging the tips of my fingers over the smooth skin, lightly dancing then towards his downy crack. My other hand was now inside my briefs, sandwiched between my own erection and the still damp cotton. Now I started moving the fingers on both hands as if I was lightly playing the piano, increasing the tempo as I built us both towards a crescendo. By now my mouth was spiralling up and down Chris's thick meat, my breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps until finally, I forced my head down as I spunked up past my hand and covered his leg in my seed. Chris froze for a moment then unleashed his second load of the evening, this time holding still while his knob throbbed in my mouth, squirting jet after jet of searing liquid into my throat and the roof of my mouth until I was a mess of gagging, coughing and snorting.

Taking a brief moment to regather myself, I plopped his dick clean of my mouth and nuzzled his ball sac, licking up the underside of his softening shaft, like I was licking beer foam off an overflowing pils. Somehow I pulled myself up his body and gripped Chris in a tight hug, now burying my nose in the soft black hair that reached down to his neck.

Hearing the bedroom door creak a little over our still heavy breathing I fluttered open my eyes. The door was open a crack and there, with his dick in his hand and an expression of wanton desire screwing up his face, stood Chris's older brother Simon.

Where was this going?