I drove home in a daze. In the space of a few hours, I had gone from being curious about submitting sexually to a man, to having willingly given Dan my mouth and ass, even agreeing to letting him take me bareback and leave his cum deep inside of me. And the most puzzling part, to me, was not the physical pleasure he had given to me, but rather my mental state. Submission to him felt right, like what I was meant to do.
I pulled in my garage and went straight upstairs to take a shower. Despite my acceptance of, hell even my embracing of, what I had done, I still felt dirty. I could feel sticky liquid on my ass and inner thighs, and I could still taste Dan's cock and cum in my mouth.
Once in the bathroom, I stripped off my t-shirt, socks, and shorts. The underwear I had worn was still in Dan's possession, a physical symbol that he had taken me. As I bent down to pick up the shorts, I saw the large cum stain and my shame grew. But my asshole also twitched, as if excited by the memory of how that stain got there.
A scalding hot shower felt good. As I symbolically cleaned my body of the taboo fucking, my mind began to settle into its much more familiar place. By the time I was toweling off, I was convinced that Dan had gotten his rocks off and I would never hear from him again. I could find a way to spin this mentally into a one-time aberration.
So I was very surprised when my phone notified me of a text, and it was Dan.
"Thank you for letting me be your first," he said, which made my insides flutter a bit at being appreciated. "I am looking forward to doing it again on Saturday."
I responded, by thanking him for what I described as a "very thorough" introduction to gay sex, and for lunch.
"You can do better than that," he texted.
I didn't respond, not sure what to say or really what he was after.
"Tell me explicitly what you are thanking me for," he texted after a moment.
"Fucking me. Coming in me," I replied, then added a "Sir," remembering that addressing him that way had pleased him.
"Much better, boy," was his response.
He then told me, and it was clear that he was not asking, to be at his house at 9am on Saturday. He told me to expect another morning of discovery before he was going to take me to the monthly Pride Event, being held at a nearby farm and apple orchard. He also told me that it was the 21st century and I needed to groom my cock and balls. "Hairless," he told me.
I told him I understood, but already began thinking of an excuse to bail on him.
The next day, Friday, passed with almost no contact. Dan resent his address to me and told me 10am. I noted the new time, you know, just in case I actually went.
Friday night I was lying in bed trying to sleep. As usual when that happened, I began to tug my little dick. But the thoughts in my head as I played with myself were all replays of what Dan had done to me in that hotel room. The taste of his cum. The smell of his cock. The feeling of submission as he opened my mouth with his hands and fed me his huge manhood. I fell asleep after coming, knowing I was going to see Dan in the morning.
I woke up, showered, ate a very light breakfast, and left my place at 9. My phone told me I was 15 minutes from Dan's place, and I wondered if he would be okay with me being early.
I drove through the city and headed towards the suburb on the bay. The neighborhoods were very upscale as I got closer. I finally made it to his street, and saw large, probably 4000 square foot houses, all with water access. Dan's house was no different, a large modern colonial with a four-car garage and U-shaped driveway. I parked next to his truck - of course it was larger than mine - and the small RV he had.
I walked up to the door when Dan opened it. He was wearing sweat shorts and a wife-beater shirt. He was sweaty.
"You're late. I thought you were no-showing so I started my workout."
"You said 10 o clock, Sir," I tried to protest.
"Get inside, now. I said you're late," was the reply.
I stepped inside of a large foyer. Dan closed the all-glass storm door but left the main door open.
'Strip, now," he said gruffly.
I obeyed, taking off my clothes as Dan walked to a nearby desk and opened a drawer. He took a cardboard box off the top of the desk and grabbed a roll of pink duct tape from inside the opened drawer.
As I pulled off my last stitch of clothes, Dan told me to put my clothes in the box. I did, and he fished my truck keys out of my pants before closing up the box and sealing it with a few strips of duct tape.
He then walked out of the house! I stood there, naked and confused as he walked to my truck, opened the door, and placed the box with my clothes (and wallet, i realized!) in my truck and closed the door. I heard the honk as he locked my truck with my keys and walked back inside.
"Your choice, boy. You can leave. Here are your keys, go get your clothes and get dressed, outside, and leave," he stated. "Or submit and get my cock."
A moment of panic, and a glance at the bulge in his pants, and I told him I submitted. Yes, if you are wondering, I called him Sir again.
He grabbed my left arm and walked me over to the desk. He pushed on my back and bent me over. I heard the duct tape being pulled off the roll, then meekly let him wrap duct tape around my wrists, pinning my arms behind my back.
He finished wrapping my wrists in several layers of tape, then casually kicked my ankles apart to make me spread my legs.
What he did next is hard to describe. He pulled my right ass cheek to the side as he got more duct tape free from the roll. I felt him place the end of the tape on my ass cheek next to my hole and use the tape to pull my cheek to the side. He wrapped the tape around my hip and ended the strip of tape just above and past my cock.
"I told you to shave, boy. That's going to hurt when it comes off."
He added at least two more strips of tape to my right ass cheek before doing the same to my left. When he finished, my ass was spread open exposing my hole.
He had me stand up straight, then took another strip of tape and taped my cock to the tape covering my mound above my cock.
