Gonzalo Narvreón - Stories of a married man

Stories of a married man

“The Men Next Door”

By Gonzalo Narvreón

Original title: Hombres de barrio

Traduced by Gonzalo Narvreón

© STORIES OF A MARRIED MAN “The Men Next Door.”

© Gonzalo Narvreón

ISBN Printed edition: 978-84-685-5494-5

ISBN Digital- ePub edition: 978-84-685-5495-2

ISBN Digital-PDF edition: 978-84-685-5496-9

Edited by Bubok Publishing SL

Dedication

Dedicated to all men who dare to experience the pleasures of having sex with other men, without inhibitions, openly, and without questioning their own masculinity.

Gonzalo Narvreón

Índice Índice Índice – Introduction – Chapter I – The rejection – Chapter II – Taking a step forward – Chapter III – Glorious night – Chapter IV – A new neighbor – Chapter V – Andrés – Chapter VI – Andrés’ temptation – Chapter VII – Andrés fulfilled my dream – Chapter VIII – Reencounter with Martín – Chapter IX – Technical support – Chapter X – Two days after – Chapter XI – Double Thecnical support – Chapter XII – The story goes on – Chapter XIII – Longed party – Chapter XIV – Dream trip – Chapter XV – Visit the doctor – Chapter XVI – Visit at home – Chapter XVII – White and black – Notes

– Introduction – – Introduction – We cross each other playing football, in a game of tennis or perhaps in a rugby match… See you at the supermarket; sometimes we are alone, others, accompanied. We are Men Next Door, enjoying with our families or our girlfriends, working, doing sports, shaving or not, enjoying a beer or a good wine, and taking care of ourselves, but not obsessively... We are typical men, Men Next Door; only that you and I share a secret... … Only you and I know what I’m talking about. Gonzalo Narvreón

Chapter I– The rejection –

Chapter II– Taking a step forward –

Chapter III– Glorious night –

Chapter IV– A new neighbor –

Chapter V– Andrés –

Chapter VI– Andrés’ temptation –

Chapter VII– Andrés fulfilled my dream –

Chapter VIII– Reencounter with Martín –

Chapter IX– Technical support –

Chapter X– Two days after –

Chapter XI– Double Thecnical support –

Chapter XII– The story goes on –

Chapter XIII– Longed party –

Chapter XIV– Dream trip –

Chapter XV – Visit the doctor –

Chapter XVI – Visit at home –

Chapter XVII– White and black –

Notes

We cross each other playing football, in a game of tennis or perhaps in a rugby match… See you at the supermarket; sometimes we are alone, others, accompanied. We are Men Next Door, enjoying with our families or our girlfriends, working, doing sports, shaving or not, enjoying a beer or a good wine, and taking care of ourselves, but not obsessively...

We are typical men, Men Next Door; only that you and I share a secret...

… Only you and I know what I’m talking about.

Gonzalo Narvreón

It was the time when my wife would finally discover my bisexuality. Just a few months before this happened, we had started going to a gym, and immediately, one of the two coaches, Martín, had caught my attention.

Martín was a guy about my age, with a short and sharp character. Maybe one day, he said hello nicely, and the next day, he passed by without even looking at me. He always had a singular attraction for me because of his manly appearance, hairy legs and arms, very well shaped and natural, not by physical exercise; rounded buttock, macho face, short and neat hair, typical good shaped men next door.

Because of a scheduling issue, the other coach, Adrián, was finally the one who would prepare my routines and who would follow my training. Adrián was not bad at all, white, blond, more muscular than Martín, light eyes, bald, marked abdomen, but skinny calves, and by my standards, that took a lot of points away.

Sometimes, overlapping trainers change schedules, while I was doing chest exercises, Martín would come over to follow my pectoral series, standing behind my head, with his member above my face. On other ones, he would simply turn on the treadmill for me. While I was running, I confess that I could not resist the temptation of following him with my eyes all over the gym.

I often tried to talk to him, and in truth, when he deigned to say hello, he turned out to be a nice person, but perhaps, as I said, the next day, he would not say hello to me.

Unexpectedly, my wife had received a job offer to travel abroad for a few months, which turned out to be very tempting financially. After discussing it, she finally accepted, so I was left alone and with the house at my disposal.

On a training day like any other, I finished showering, and Martín went into the changing room to pee. We crossed some words and tempted by the attraction he produced to me, I looked for an excuse to get him to talk.

“Hey, Martín, tell me... do you give private lessons, or do you work exclusively in this Gym?” I asked.

Martín, who was peeing and not paying much attention to my presence, turned his head and answered:

“Yes, if I have the opportunity, I do; in fact, I have few guys outside of the gym’s schedule because I don’t have much free time left; why?”

“Because I would be interested in training some areas of my body to improve them, and I see that my progress is a little slow here,” I answered.

“Don’t be a fool; your body has made a huge change,” he said, adding, “Anyway, I would have no problem.”

We passed the cell phone numbers and agreed that I would call him.

I left the gym and spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about whether to contact him or not. Clearly, I didn’t care much about the workout, and my intention was to bring him home with some excuse. I finally got up, picked up the phone, and called him; it was Friday afternoon, and we arranged for him to come on Saturday before noon.

Saturday morning was sunny, ideal weather to enjoy the swimming pool and outdoors. I took a shower, put on my boxers, and prepared my breakfast. I sat down on the veranda to enjoy a delicious orange juice, coffee with milk, and toast with feta cheese. I went upstairs to change to be ready for Martín’s arrival; I put on tights, rugby shorts, and a short-sleeved Dry Fit T-shirt.

Noon was approaching, and the doorbell rang. It was 11:30 a.m; Martín arrived on time and waited in front of the door.

I opened the street door from the electrical doorbell and approached the main entrance to welcome him.

We greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, and I invited him in. Martín was wearing a not sleeves orange T-shirt, black tights, rugby blacks shorts. He wore low-rise socks and running shoes. That tight shorts marked his beautiful round and firm buttock, and the T-shirt lets showed his marked biceps and hairy arms.

Martín’s legs were a particular issue; without cracks or defects, beautiful calves and marked quadriceps, very solid, very hairy; a spectacle for the eyes.

We crossed some words and went to a room on the ground floor, where I had some elements to do gymnastics. We started the routine marking me, and we left the part of the abdominals for the end.

“Lie down on your back,” he said.

I lay down on the floor as he instructed, and he stood there, putting one foot on each side of my head.

“Hold onto my ankles and raise your legs,” he said.

I grabbed his ankles, and inevitably, I felt my cock begin to throb. It was the first time my hands had ever held it. Martín was pushing my legs to the ground, and I had to keep my feet from touching the ground, lifting them up again; typical exercise for strengthening abdominals. I kept my sight upward and found the splendor of his beautiful hairy legs.