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  • — Gross —
    Bi-Sexual Male / 51

    I have been trapped in a sexless, passionless marriage for almost twenty years. Approximately six years ago, tired of constantly beating my meat watching free porn on the net, I began scanning the personal ads on craigslist. The women who posted or responded to the ads were almost invariably hookers looking for another pay day. But there were many, many men, mostly married, but divorced, widowed and single too, that were looking to have their cock sucked. The idea of sucking cock had been one I'd considered since my teenage years, but had somehow always managed to forego.

    But watching endless hours of porn and focusing on the often mammoth, monstrous, cocks shooting endless supplies of thick, creamy, gooey cum, had me fantasizing more and more of sucking dick than of eating pussy or fucking a woman. The photos in these craigslist ads had also captured my imagination. Were they real? Were these men really looking for a blow job? Were they really disease free? Would they be discrete? These questions worried me, and yet, the urge to submit to a man and suck his cock became ever stronger, ever more all-encompassing for me.

    There was one particular ad that captured my imagination. The man was a widower, in his sixties, but his cock was not only extremely large, but thick, with a large flared purplish head, and a thick shaft crisscrossed by blue, green and purple veins. How many times did I sit and stare at his photos with my pants pulled down in my easy chair jerking my cock to extraordinary orgasms as my wife slept in her own bed? The ad had a telephone contact number and I had raised the telephone to call him several times, both on lunch break at work and at home when my wife was out, but I never completed the phone call, canceling it after having pressed three or four numbers of his seven-digit telephone number.

    Each time I would cum, as soon as I had achieved the relief that an orgasm brings, my desire to suck his cock ebbed and I was happy that I hadn't called him and set something up that I would back out on. And yet. . . and yet as time elapsed, the desire grew greater and greater and I realized that I would never be satisfied until I had made the call and met him, to see if the act of fellatio in reality was anything like the fellatio in fantasy.

    One day, at lunch, I sat in my car in a shopping parking lot and made the call. His voice was gruff in answering. "Hello?" I paused and asked, "Is this Frank/" the name in the ad. He said, "Yeah. Whoâs this?" I told him that I'd seen his ad on craigslist. Again, there was a pause, before he responded, ". . . and you want to suck my dick?" Humiliated, blushing, I admitted that, yes, that was why I was calling him. He asked a few questions: my age, my height, my weight, could I get it up, had I ever sucked dick before, questions of that nature, and I filled him in. He grunted and asked when I could come over. I explained that I would be able to leave work early this afternoon and we agreed to 3pm.

    A thousand times between noon and three I told myself that I couldn't go through with it, that this was dangerous, that I didn't know him, that he might be a killer, or diseased or secretly filming our little rendezvous, and a thousand times the desire and urgency drove me past every objection, every fear.

    His home was a single floor blue painted house with a small porch, kind of non-descript. I literally shook as I exited my vehicle and slowly walked up the concrete walkway and three steps onto his porch and then hesitated before pressing the buzzer. I waited a few moments, but it felt like forever, before a grizzled older man with gray-white hair answered the door. He was wearing a bathrobe. "John?" I nodded, and he opened the door to let me in. "I'm Frank," he said. "Follow me." I followed him through the living room down a hallway to the rear of the small house. He walked into a rear bedroom, one of two. There was an unmade bed there, men's pajamas and athletic socks strewn over the frayed dark carpeting. The room had that distinctive scent of underarm sweat and a sourness to it. I was beginning to regret my decision, but not so much to allow me to walk away from it.

    He fiddled with the VCR and soon a porn movie was playing on his 32" television screen. There was a mature larger woman sucking an older man's cock. When I looked back at him, he began undoing the belt on his teal teri cloth robe, before asking me, "What are you waiting for?" And then when I continued to stand there, he added, "For fuck's sake, aren't you going to get out of your street clothes?" I blushed and looked at him sheepishly and began laboriously stripping off my "street clothes." When his robe opened, I saw that the photos of his cock that he had posted were quite accurate, although, his penis here was still flaccid, but showed lots of promise.

    He caught me staring at his cock and smirked. "Get those fuckin' clothes off and get over here and suck this dick." I finished disrobing and walked over to him and knelt at his gnarled feet. His long thick cock dangled between his white skinny legs. And I reached over to grasp it. "Fuck that! If I wanted to get a hand job I could have jerked it off myself. Use your fuckin' mouth, dumbfuck." Again, I blushed. My face now having a crimson warmth to it. On my knees I leaned over and took the head of his penis between my lips and began sucking it. "That's it. Suck that fuckin' pecker you cocksucker." I leaned further forward swallowing more and more of his penis. I could feel his cock slowly swelling in my mouth, moving left and right and upwards as it lengthened, as it became engorged with the old man's life blood. The head of his cock felt smooth and spongy in my mouth, and as it stiffened, it veered further and further back until I could feel it pushing against me gullet making me choke a bit, but not too badly. "You never sucked dick before?" I couldn't really answer with his dick bouncing off my by now bruised tonsils, but managed to nod my head. "You are a born cocksucker!" he guffawed while placing his right hand behind my head and shoving his cock deeper into my yaw, brutally fucking my mouth and throat. I could feel his shaft sliding forwards and backwards against my tongue, his balls now bouncing off my chin as he continued fucking me orally. The taste of his cock which was somewhat musky and gamey when I first slipped my lips over it, was now saltier, and it seemed to be leaking a sour viscous seminal fluid, as I was savoring the taste of his pre-cum, first droplets of it, then more copious amounts. "Oh fuck, I'm going to fill your fuckin' pansy mouth with my cum," he yelled at me, and I could feel him tense up and groan as he shot volley after volley of cum into my mouth, down my throat, and on my tongue." He was holding my head viselike and shoving his thick cock deep as he came, uttering guttural noises that were indecipherable, like the grunting of a baboon at the zoo. Each push forwards shot decreasing amounts of his cum into me, until he was just shoving his spent but still semi-hard dick deep into the opening at the back of my throat, before letting go of the back of my head and pulling his spent cock out. He wiped it across my lips and across my cheeks, leaving a slimy trail wherever it slid. "Mmmmmm. . .you suck dick pretty good for being such a fat fuck and never having sucked dick before." I sat back on my haunches, my mind reeling over what had just happened.

    I wasn't sure what I was to do next. Should I thank him for the thrashing he had given my mouth, lips, tongue and throat? Should I just get up and get dressed and leave? What was the etiquette? I had no clue, so I continued to sit there watching his cock and plum sized balls swaying to and fro before me.

    The taste of his cum, which had felt like thick gruel as he had exploded in my mouth, overpowered my taste buds so that all I could taste was the musky, sour, salty, ammonia-like taste of it. It was so overpowering that I feared that I would always taste it, that it would always be there inside of me, no matter how long I was to live.

    He sat on the side of his dingy full-sized mattress as I arose for my knees. "It takes me a bit to get hard again," he said while winking knowingly at me. The idea of a second assault on my throat was a bit more than I could grasp. I mumbled something to him, but whatever I was trying to say it sounded more like undecipherable mutterings, as my mouth and tongue was recovering from the prolonged r**e that it had just undergone. He swung his legs over and looked at me saying, "Get on the bed between my legs." When I hesitated, standing next to his bed, he kicked me in the balls with his right foot, doubling me over. "Are you deaf?" pronouncing the word as if it rhymed with reef. My balls ached, and I felt a trace of nausea as I slowly straightened up and climbed onto his bed placing my face between his chicken-scrawny white alabaster thighs, ready to suck his flaccid cock again. "Now lick and suck my balls." I leaned forward and began licking his hairy balls so heavy with cum, they tasted sour. "Yeah, that's the way," he said as he moaned. "I love having' my balls liked and sucked." I pulled them into my mouth one at a time and sucked on them as he moaned. He arched his back and his cock and balls rose up. "Get in there," he said. There was nothing about the skinny ass that now rose off of the mattress that appealed to me. This had never been part of my fantasies. I demurred and continued licking his balls. "Get your motherfuckin' tongue up my asshole," he said sarcastically. When I continued to suck his balls, he reared back his foot and kicked me in the face with it. I was stunned. This wasn't what I had had in mind. He pulled his butt cheeks apart and now I could see his asshole, and worse yet, smell his asshole, and it was smeared with the vestiges of his morning shit, and the odor of shit was overpowering. Enough was enough, this wasn't what I had signed up for. I began pulling back on the mattress. "Where in the fuck do you think you're going?" I said, "Sorry but this isn't what I had in mind." He laughed derisively, and responded, "Who the fuck cares what you had in mind. We're just gettin' started here, you cocksucker." Before we are done today, you will have licked my stinkin' asshole, licked my smelly feet, and I will have fucked you up the ass and cum in your bowels and you will lick your own shit off my cock, before leavin' here with a fuckin' ear to ear smile on your fat fuckin' face.

    Now all of the fantasies were coalescing. This nasty old man could see right through me. He knew the type of depravity that my heart ached for, even if I hadn't been able to admit it. I was trapped by my own deepest shame, but wants and desires I had never even admitted to myself let alone to others. He had seen through me and realized how deeply depraved I really was, that I would serve his darkest sexual desires and return for me. That I was willing to plunge to the deepest depths of depravity, and that I would submit to his every command, his every whim.

    I leaned forward again, and slowly brought my face closer and closer to his filthy asshole. This scent of it made me want to heave, but I couldn't even do that. My tongue lathed his hole and I could taste the sweet acrid residue, the dried-up bits of shit that he hadn't quite wiped away that morning after his morning shit. The odor made me dizzy and the knowledge that I was debasing myself in such a manner, gave me some transient vertigo, but I plunged deeper, using the tip of my tongue to plumb the recesses of his anus, licking and sucking, and then slipping deeper to lick clean his rectal walls until his nether hole was squeaky clean and mostly odorless. "You lick asshole better than any bitch I've ever been with," the old man uttered triumphantly. Apparently, he had deemed me a keeper. Before the afternoon was through, I had kissed and licked his sweaty, horribly smelly feet, between his toes, the soles of his feet, the gnarled yellow toe nails. He had made me kneel at his feet as he pissed short bursts of urine in my mouth, making me gargle his salty foul-tasting piss before swallowing it. And he had fucked side to side, me on my back with my legs over his shoulders, and doggie style with him fucking me deeper and deeper with his weight on my back and his bearded face next to mine, grunting as he came, shoving his thick tool ever deeper into my bowels before shooting whatever was left of his cum deep, deep inside of me.

    Before I left he had me suck his cock one last time, his cock covered with my very own anal fluids and bits of residue. As I limped out of his home, my asshole on fire, my jaws aching, his cum still dripping out of my asshole dampening the seat of my briefs, I stumbled to my vehicle. The old man was at his doorway, waving to me. I rolled down my window and attempted a smile, but I was far too tired, too defeated to manage a smile. As I back out of my space, I heard him yell, "How's tomorrow for a repeat performance." As I drove home, my eyes filled with tears because I knew that I could never turn back.


    #40136 — Comments (0) — May 8, 2018 at 2:03 PM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove This.

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