KEITH By KySub54@yahoo.com
This is a true story. I was hanging out in a Yahoo chat room late one night when he found me. I'm a 57 year old gay man living in an urban area of Kentucky, 5'7", 220# with dark blond hair and blue eyes. Nothing to look at, overweight, average to cock. For the last several years I've been interested in submission but other than some online playing haven't explored it much in person because I haven't found the right man. I have a hard time trusting people so haven't been really able to give a stranger control which gets in the way of really exploring the whole sub experience.
He asked if I was a sub and I said yes. He said he was a 27 year old dom. I immediately pointed out that I was 57 and asked if he realized how old I was. He said yes, what was the difference? He liked my profile and the photos I had posted on Flicker with a link on my Yahoo profile. I'm uneasy with young men who respond that they are dom tops when I tell them I am a sub. Most of them need a good top, not a sub, but they often claim to be experienced.
He quickly put me at ease and let me know he really was a dom. He told me he worked on one of the horse farms in Central Kentucky, about 1 « hours from me. I liked his easy going personality and his way of letting me know that he would be in control. It quickly became apparent that we were in tune sexually and that we could talk to each other about just about anything despite the differences between us.
I'm a professional and he is a stable manager, our educational and social backgrounds are worlds apart. That didn't bother me but he was concerned about how my friends might feel about him. I told him anyone that made me happy would be welcomed by my friends but he was still uneasy. So we each had an issue clearly identified. Mine was my age, his was his limited education.
We agreed to put those things aside and get to know each other and we proceeded to do that over the next two weeks through long late night chats on our computers. I told him about my work and my family and friends. He told me about life on the farm and the pride he took in his work and his love of horses. His family connections were much more complicated than my own, raised by an aunt and uncle with other aunts and uncles in the scene so that it was hard for me to understand who was who but he patiently explained each time I asked.
And he told me all the things we would do together. We watched hours of Xtube videos so he could see what turned me on and so I would understand his interests. He told me he would take me to sex parties where I could watch subs being used. He liked leather and force, he liked paddles and crops. He helped me pick out cock rings and stretchers. He told me how he had been raised in the BDSM life since he was 13 and that it was a part of him. He promised to take me to places that scarred me and bring be back begging for more. He saw that I liked bondage scenes with hard face and ass fucking. He told me he would fuck me and let me worship his body, he assured me he would tie me up and blindfold me and spank and whip me. He knew what I didn't like but never said we wouldn't do those things, only that he wouldn't make me do anything until I was ready. And he would make sure I was ready.
He talked of love, of being life partners, of sharing our dreams in a life we built together. He promised to teach me to please him. Slowly the protective wall I've lived behind for years began to crumble. I asked if he had ever had his heart broken, shattered to the point that you didn't know if life was worth living. He said yes and we agreed that we had both isolated ourselves, wrapped in our pain.
We swore we would never leave each other, that we would go forward in life together and that we would explore every aspect of our sexuality. He said he would take me, hand in hand, to hell and back and I believed him. I wanted it. I wanted him. I needed it all.
We talked about him coming here for a week. We would go on a date and he would stay at a nearby hotel. And then, well, my imagination ran wild. I knew we could make it work. I knew we belonged together. After two weeks, I was in love, deeply, completely. Here was the man who could fill my darkest sexual desires and my greatest hopes for love and a future.
And then he was gone. Late one night, in the middle of a conversation, he was gone. I asked him to let me know he was OK, to email me or to call me. I stayed up all night every night for a week hoping he would sign on. I emailed and begged him to tell me what had happened.
He was amazing, the man of my dreams. It only took him two
weeks to destroy me.
KySub54@yahoo.com