I am not gay.
Seriously, maybe bi, but not gay.
But I am a slave to a long, thick cock.
Right you say, not gay, but slave to a cock.^Å Well the thing is, there are some things you can't control: and a fantasy for a beautiful penis. I know many would say, 'beauty is in the eyes of the beholder' or 'beautiful is just a word that cums on the tip of my tongue.'
Perhaps, but not for me. Just getting some/any dick means nothing to me. In fact, my thoughts about cocks is very polarized. I either could care less or if it is a long, thick beautiful cock, I HAVE to have it. I know it is only infatuation and I don't really love a specific body part, but tell that to my libido.
This is why I could never visit a nudist facility. Public showers have pushed me to the edge of public humiliation. Sure there are lots of stories that begin with: "I was taking a shower after an invigorating work out, when the stud sauntered up next to me. Instantly the blood was inflating my cock. He smiled.^Å"
Sounds good in theory, but even many gay men don't like to have another man's penis point to his lips. He might dream of it; he might lust for it; and while masturbating later he may even imagine it, but no one was to be outed with the tattler hard on or to be the center of that attention. Maybe some do, but not me. Especially in public where you are at risk.
As I said, I am not gay, I just lose control in the presence of a hot, fat cock. I try to keep my 'fetish' under raps. Exploiting my desires in the privacy of my apartment.
Isn't the internet wonderful? Guys who live quiet desperation in public, lust freely over high speed connections. I mean you can download a bounty of wang from alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.oldermen (for some reason there is quite a few hung daddies posted there) or using the search capabilities of www.guys4men.com, wallow in the lust of big tools.
After a couple heavy duty jack off sessions, I can set the that big dog cock-love on the back burner.
So I am not gay. That is, 99.3 percent of the time. Every once in a while, I slip up at a urinal and the man next to me stomps out of the toilet muttering something about perverts. Unfortunately, or fortunately if you have had me worship your tool, there is that .7 percent of time when eyes meet and soon lips connect to a beautiful cock.
And then there was the time in New Mexico.
I travel for my job as a computer tech. I install my computer software onto various doctor's office's computers. It is something that most companies could do on their own, but for what we charge, they like to see a face. Not to mention I have found doctors believe they are Gods. And Gods don't do installation.
I was doing job in a little town near Albuquerque, NM and staying in the Holiday Inn. It was an easy set up and (if I found an earlier flight) I was going to be able to leave a day early, since I did all that was needed in one day. I ate dinner at the bar over a couple Gin & Tonics. I was bushed. Not so much from the job, but the heat in NM in August is brutal. During the day I had to take a couple quick tips to the local electronics store and each time I went out of the air condition into the 100 degrees heat it was like a sucker punch.
Much to my surprise the waitress announced last call. It was 11 p.m. and during the week the bar closed early. I wasn't surprised, it seemed like no one was staying at the hotel and even less were in the bar.
Walking back to my room I noticed the pool was still open, or at least the door was open. Probably I should have obeyed the sign that said closed at 10 p.m., but I got my suit and took a quick dip, more to cool of than to exercise. I swam a few laps, then sat on the shallow steps, resting my head on the edge of the pool. It was dark in the pool area and I was close to falling asleep.
I nearly had a heart attack when someone dove into the pool. Who ever it was, he was a swimmer. Effortlessly he did four laps. It was like a Zen meditation watching him seamlessly glide back and forth. After the forth lap he swam over to me, "Hi, I didn't invade your privacy did I?"
He stood up in the pool and the water was at thigh level for him. The guy had a sinewy torso and a Speedo © swim suit that swimmer wear. Not a bikini, but one that clung to his thighs, hips and ----- his penis.
His sweet, large penis.
"No, I am just cooling off, in fact I am thinking the pool is closed," I mumbled, unable to take my focus off his cock.
As much as I say I am not gay, this guy was or at least very haughty. He was standing there just to flaunt his his body before me. I am sure it didn't matter to him if I was gay or not, he knew I was focusing on his package. I was trying to burn the shape into my mind, to recall back in my room as I jerked off. He -- on the other hand -- was used to this type of reverence.
He was stretching his arms over his head and lifting up on his toes. He lost his balance, I took it to be on purpose, and stepped forward.
"Oops," he said regaining his balance. "I wanted to burn a few calories then have a night cap."
He then reached into his suit and adjusted his cock. I felt my mouth gap a little and with out thinking I wet my upper lip with my tongue. I wanted to kneel at the altar and worship St. Penis. It was embarrassing, not because I couldn't stop gawking, but because he was clearly teasing me.
"Um...you're out of luck," I blurted out, but he was inches (big, wonderful inches) away from being a very lucky man. He furrowed his brow, so I explained. "The bar here closed 20 minutes ago.
"O that is okay, I picked up a growler from Isotopes Brewing, in fact it is more than I could drink, are you interested?" He asked, then clearly taunted me by rolling the waist of his swim suit so I could see the beginning of his pubic hair. He didn't ask if I was interested in the beer and what he was offering was a temptation that fell into that .7 percent.
"Sure, sounds like fun," I was now anxious and stood up not caring what my semi erection would look like in this situation.
He held out his hand, "I'm Jack."
I know where we were headed, but wasn't brave enough to respond with: 'and I'm Horny." I grabbed his hand and said, "I'm Ben"
We shook. I was glad he didn't make the joke of asking me if my last name was 'over.' I held the rail and stepped out of the pool. His hand brushed my ass, sending me a clear signal of his definition of 'night cap.'
I grabbed my towel and key. We both did a quick dry, but were dripping all the way down the hall to his room. Walking behind him, out of the sight-line of his cock, was my last chance to break from the enchantment of his magic wand. This is where it is hard for me to say I am not gay; I followed him right to his lair.
The lights in the hall were bright compared to the pool area and hurt at first. Just when my eyes had adjusted, we were at his door. The lights were dim in his room and he made no attempt to turn any others on.
Grabbing two cups from the counter he said: "The beer is on ice in the bathroom sink."
He disappeared around the corner. He was in there for a bit before I heard the ice shift and he appeared from the bathroom naked, with the beer and cups. "Ready?"
I couldn't resist saying what was on my mind. I was filled with admiration for his cock, in fact I pushed my suit off to show him how ready I was, displaying my smaller, but erect cock. But I couldn't ignore the game. "You're an arrogant cock-ster aren't you?"
"You disapprove?" he said, smirking as he poured a cupful of beer, looking at me over the rim as he sipped it.
I kneeled down before and and licked his shaft, "What do you think?"
I answered my own question by taking several inches of his penis in my mouth, sliding my lips over his circumcised member. He tasted like pre-cum with a hint of chlorine. I slipped him in and out of my mouth a couple more times, leaving a trail of saliva. There was no way I was going to swallow all of this ruler, but I was definitely going to enjoy every inch.
Sliding my tongue down his thick stick, to his sack, I followed my lips with my left hand. I continued to fondle his balls, holding them up so I could lick them as I jacked his rod with my other hand. I wrapped my hand around him and he filled my fist. I worked my grip up and down and gently suckling one testicle, then the other.
So I could work the whole cock with my mouth, I would bob down four or five inches, then come up and lick the cock all the way down to his balls. I played around with the rotation of this: sometime bobbing twice, then licking twice; other times one bob to one lick.
I could hear and feel his breathing. It was even and I could tell he was used to adoration of his prick. In my mind it was a standard to live up to. I wanted to be the best or one of the best cocksuckers he had enjoyed and I sensed he WAS enjoying it, regardless of how much he was used to men worshiping his penis.
I thought it was time to get him close to an orgasm. I started to focus on bobbing on his head. Three or four times I would plunge him in and out of my mouth, then I would pause with him inside my lips and as I slowly slide up I gently glided my teeth along his shaft.
This is when he started to moan.
I alternated that with five bobs up and down then slowly sucking him as much as I could as I pulled his penis out of my mouth, causing a kissing, sucking sound and friction. He now was wavering in his stance The tone of his moans was a little more conciliatory, as he was on the brink of pleasure.
I released his balls and held his hips for leverage as I performed fellatio on this stud. Shifting his feet he tried to move to the bed, but I held him firm. I might be enamored for his cock and he may controlled me in that way -- with my lust for his knightly sword, but I wanted him to know who was head honcho. With the emphasis on 'head.' I looked up to him, with eyes that pleaded for his spunk. His eyes were closed. He had set the beer on the desk and put his right hand against the wall for support.
Once I had him in place, I began to slide my hands up and down his legs. They were prickly. In the darkness I hadn't realized he was nearly hairless, from doing the swimmers shaving thing, but it had been a couple weeks from his last shave.
The prickly caresses was all he could take and my fingers found sensuous passage up and down his thighs and gluteus maximus. When he let out a long groan, I knew he was going to cum.
Opening my lips, closing my eyes, I made a target for his sperm and continued to work his dick with my fists around the shaft. He came like he was pushing a desk up a hill.
"umfph."
"umfph."
"umfph."
With each groan, a wad of sperm jerked on to my face and lips. His cum was thick and pungent. I licked the dribble off the tip of his cock and he flinched his hips back. I tilted my face back so the sperm wouldn't run off my face.
My eyes remained closed with the cum on my eyelids. Softly he caressed my face, pushing the sperm off my eyes and he whispered: "Nice."
An hour ago I was about to crash in my room (and, of course, not gay), now I was still longing for the comfort of bed -- his -- and thinking less about sleeping. And if things worked out, I wasn't going to change my travel plans.