How long? How long can I fantasize and not act? I was in my late forties and my whole life I'd had fantasies of sex with another man. I'd come close to acting on them. I'd come close so many times.
My wife was out of town and I used the time as I usually did, to stroke my cock and think about being with another man. I read stories and stroked myself, keeping myself on edge. I barely kept myself from cumming, I wiped the precum from my belly and the head of my prick and licked it from my fingers. God I was so turned on. I thought about going out somewhere to meet a guy. I read more stories and kept myself constantly on the edge of cumming, thinking this might just be the time, but afraid that, if I came, I'd lose my nerve. I rewarded myself with a steady flow of precum wiped across my lips and licked from my fingers. So turned on.
I showered and I stroked my cock while fingering my ass with a soapy finger, nasty thoughts running through my head, my legs weak. God, I want it so bad. I've wanted it for so long, wanted it so much. On edge. Still on edge.
I got out of the shower and took the lube and a vibrator from the drawer. I lubed it up and slid it into my ass. God I ache for it. I slid it in and out, slick with the lube, my eyes roll back in my head and I moan. How long can I deny what I want? I stroke myself, hard from the sensation of the vibrator moving in and out of my ass like the cock I want. My stomach is in knots. My balls ache. I want.
I got dressed. I'm going to do it. This time, I swear, I'm going to do it. I head to the bar, the gay bar. I drive there, feeling the sensation of the lube still in and around my hole. I'm in a daze of want. I wasn't sitting at the bar long when he approached me. I couldn't tell if my conversation made any sense. I couldn't tell if my terror and my aching want was obvious. I froze when he asked me. "Are you a top or a bottom"? .... Finally, "a bottom, I think".
A smile, "you think"?
"I've only actually fantasized about it, but I want to, I do".
Another smile. Now I know my nerves are obvious.
"So, you bottom when you think about it"?
"I'm always very submissive", I manage.
That smile again. "Are you now? Very submissive are you?"
I can't look at him now but I manage to croak a "yes" while I avert my eyes.
"Well that's very interesting." A long pause. "You have a lot of these fantasies do you?"
"Yes, for a very long time".
"And never acted on them, and now, here you are." His smile more mischievous, "kept them all to yourself, did you"?
"Not exactly".
"Not exactly? Tell me about that".
God he was killing me. I squirmed. "I was married. I told my wife about them. I wrote stories for us and we talked about them while we had sex".
"Really, that sounds interesting and did you ever share these stories with anyone besides your wife"?
I froze again.
"Well"?
"They're on-line".
"Well, this just keeps getting more interesting". He stared at me. I felt like he was looking right through me. I squirmed. I was so nervous but I was so turned on. Every nerve in my body was on full alert. I was overloaded. My legs were shaking. Still he stared. He could see it in my face, the fear and the arousal. "Well we're just going to have to find out a little bit more about these stories. Let's go".
I edged closer to panic than arousal. I slid off the bar stool and nearly slipped to the floor, my legs barely able to support me. He smiled and took my arm and we managed to walk from the bar.
He lived only a couple blocks away but the walk and the night air calmed me enough to at least walk on my own. I edged back towards arousal but still with a nearly overwhelming nervousness and under everything, just a pure, raw, want. We got to his apartment and we went inside. He pointed me towards a chair. I sat, relieved to be sitting.
"I'm going to change and get you a glass of water".
