The clear, blatant fact that another man wants to push his hard cock into your ass has a way of seizing a man's thoughts. I certainly didn't want to fuck him, or any man. A psychological barrier on my end of the stick, apparently. When it came to fucking, my cock pointed straight to women. But... A man fucking me? Ideas of what it would feel like, do to me, came seeping in through numerous holes in what I had always assumed to be well constructed barriers. The biggest hole was his desire to do that to me. A desire so strong he lost all control of his eight year man sex suppression at first sight of my sexy ass. Flattering, yes, I could not deny that. But I had no more awareness of my ass that I did of my elbows, so I did a lot of head twisting to look in the mirror to see what he saw. I couldn't see it. Not his point of view. A view that made his cock hard, his kiss devouring, and his calling me his "darling."
Falling so easily into the role of his darling was the second biggest hole. Those fantasy feelings of soft yielding femaleness in his overpowering arms was totally new to me. Those feelings were strangely pleasing and comforting, but also a little scary. I thought I knew exactly who I was kissing a boy and sucking his cock. I wondered if there were places in me yet to be discovered, that I didn't know at all. Being another man's sweetheart. Surrendering my ass to him to enter, actually wanting it.
Why did countless millions of men want other men to fuck them? Was the mind bending pleasure as transforming as lore and literature claimed?
We were so cool at our next gym session it was almost funny. And not only because Betty and the girls showed up with him. We sweated, grunted, lifted, with him appropriately distant from the weight bar. It was like we had never been on my bed. Except for a single exchange. "Still thinking about it?" He asked, hopeful but nonchalant. I answered with honesty that pleased him. "I'm thinking about it. A lot." - "Good, good," he said with a smile, patting me on my shoulder, like I was an employee reporting a work assignment progress to my boss.
We joined Betty and the girls in the juice bar and my dirty thoughts received an elevating boost. Barry as married man. Husband, father, provider. Happy family. Betty was a large woman, curvaceous, not fat so much as...pneumatic. Firmly controlled spread. Not conventionally beautiful, but charming and pretty. A generous, happy woman. A loving mother. And no doubt well fucked by her husband as often as she needed. That was apparent in her basic happiness. And my swift conclusions of all that did not bring on a black cloud of betrayal of her by what Barry and I had done. Just the opposite. I saw him in a different and brighter light. He was as clean and pure and majestic in his desire to fuck me as he was being loving husband and father. And that night in the juice bar matched my own experience of suddenly desiring Bryan Colter that night in the pub back in college. With the girl I thought I was in love with sitting beside me. I knew exactly what it was like to have that thunderbolt of bi-sexual desire strike with no warning. But Barry and I were mature men. Our making love would not have the same consequences. I felt certain of that.
When I was at home that night, I thought back on my affair with Bryan, and realized something else. I had wanted him desperately, and I seduced him. Now Barry wanted me desperately, and I was the one being seduced. He was shaping my mind, planting seeds to grow there. And I had to face the truth of my mind being fertile soil. The persistent, tingling excitement of being seduced by an irresistible man, the first time ever, was tunneling deeper into my head and sending mysterious but welcomed resonance throughout my body. Me, Jack, a straight man, a well developed muscle toned man, not given to violence but more than capable of fighting if a situation required, proud carrier of bigger than average cock, an accomplished lover and fucker of women... I was being seduced by another man, and it was strangely but deliciously exciting. So strangely exciting and persistent I declined some invitations from a couple of lady friends.
The next week Barry came alone to the gym. He was on a business triumph high. He owned his own real estate company, and had sold a large commercial property to a big gun in the cell phone industry that needed it for a billing factory. Billing only, for those millions of customers and their greater millions of minutes to talk and text. "They will eventually have two hundred employees," he said. "Billing and raking in money." Barry raked in money of his own, a very fat commission. He practically strutted. He glowed. When a moment of absolute privacy occurred, the triumphant real estate tycoon put his hand on my ass cheek and squeezed with authority.
"Still thinking about it?"
"Yes, I am. But we need to talk more."
"I can't stay too long tonight."
*****
As soon as my apartment door closed he gathered me in his arms and kissed me. I dropped my gym bag to the floor and folded into his massive strength and hot body and instantly hard cock. Raised my chin to receive his suckling lips and licking tongue. Felt that soft feminine sensation of yielding to him, but at the same felt my cock grow erect with all male assertion. I hunched my groin to his. He put his hands on my ass to pull me tighter.
"It seems longer than two weeks," I said. "I want your cock in my mouth again. Taste your cum."
"I am your man. You are my darling. You need your man. Oh yes."
He placed his hands on my shoulders and bore down, making clear the proper context of the moment was my kneeling to him, to serve him. And it was so perfectly right, on my knees on my apartment floor, looking up at his towering stature, his smile of expectation mixed with that same flush of triumph by the huge sale closing he made that day. My man. I shivered with desire to serve him, to please him, to drink cum from his balls.
I undid his belt, the waist button, and pulled his pants and boxer shorts down to his ankles. His cock sprang free and thumped my face. That singular smell of masculinity flowed from his groin and went in my nose and had its intoxicating effect. Our position was stripped of all romantic adornment. Me on my knees, fully dressed. Him standing with his pants and underwear at his ankles. He lifted his shirt tails and put his hands on his hips and made a slight bow forward. "Suck my cock," he said.
