I Became a Coc Sucing Fag

I became a cock sucking fag Pt 12

As time went on with Claire, I couldn't have enjoyed her more than I did. Our bedroom adventures became an anal fuck fest for both of us. And I realized as much as I enjoyed being inside her vagina, and getting my dick sucked by her, the anal pleasures we both experienced were beyond belief. I began to desire a real dick again. As fun as that pink dick was, I needed a real one. I needed to feel a real skin-textured rock-hard dick in my hands, in my mouth, and surely deep in my ass.

I suppose if things were different for us, by us living closer together, being closer in age, or removing that dark cloud of "possibly" being related somehow that hovered over our heads, I might have considered moving forward with her. But, at the end of the day, she was all woman, and I was all man. The big difference in our standard lovemaking was that pink dick and her liking it in the ass, more than in her pussy. And through time and experiences, as much as I was a man and was giving it to her, I wanted it in the ass just as much. I began to enjoy being fucked by her, more than I liked being in her. I wanted cock. I couldn't deny it anymore. I had been with two Trans women before Claire, and I had sucked their dicks and fucked them, just as they had done their best to fuck me. The context may have been slightly different, the length, duration, and time surely were, but I had done it before, and I wanted to do it again. I had reached the pinnacle of wanting a boyfriend.

I liked Claire. I truly did. Our lovemaking was passionate, deep, unbridled, and extremely taboo. It became so frequent and so regular, that every time we'd have sex, she fucked me. The more she did it, the more I began to start cumming while her dick was in me. I couldn't get enough. The more she made me cum while fucking me, the more my body began to completely desire a dick. Looking back, it was the absolute beginning I needed. It was the experience I needed. It was the trust, the secretness, and desire that led me to where I am today. Claire is who turned me into a cock sucking fag.

As much as I believe Claire loved me being behind me fucking me in the ass, I'm positive she wanted a woman, so they both could have used that strap-on while fucking each other furiously. She couldn't have hinted or suggested it more than she had. And I knew I wanted to date a man. All the signs pointed that way. My viewing pleasures had turned to all gay porn, and truthfully, if my dick wasn't in her ass, her dick was in mine. If she would have had a real dick, I think I'd be writing the story of my husband. But alas, we both knew we were heading for different things in life.

I knew. There was no doubt. Even if dating a man would have ended up short-lived, I needed a man. I needed to feel that. To experience that. To know what it was like to say the words, "my boyfriend." To have his dick available to me whenever I wanted it, or whenever he needed it. Luckily a new co-worker and a new bowling league gave me the opportunity.

I switched paths in my career and started working as an assistant supervisor for the Department of Revenue. It was similar to what I had done before in that we had to deal with customers. I was a boss, the second in charge of my division and I was making more money and moving up the chain of state-run jobs. I met Craig, he was one of my employees. As I got to know him, I learned Craig was in a bowling league and when the spring season began, he needed another player. He asked me to join his team and I graciously agreed, because any time out of the house and playing some form of sports was an opportunity to meet new people.

Now some of the following may seem rushed or out of the norm for me to not detail, but I could enlighten you with 4 or 5 more stories of the flirting that began with John and me. The buying of beers, and the chats, and games of pool or darts we played, but it wouldn't get to the heart of the matter, which is me discovering he was gay and getting my chance to finally have a man. But here's a summary of our meeting and courtship.

As I started to play in Craig's bowling league, I noticed a guy on a team named the Dragons. His name was John. As time went on, I began to learn more about him and everyone who played there. As I started talking with John more, I learned he was 58. He was exactly my height, weighed about 210 pounds, and had a little of a beer belly. He had salt and pepper hair with a very well-trimmed goatee. He always dressed nicely, was very friendly, and seemed to be up on current events and sports talk. I happened to notice that John usually left immediately after the games were done, while most of the people would stand around chatting, or having a beer or two, before blasting off. I'll be the first to admit, that John was the first man, I ever felt attracted to. In a room full of male bowlers, straight or not, he was the only one that gained my attention.

Throughout the months of the league, I talked with him countless times and felt that comradery was building. He wore his gold wedding ring and I figured he was married to a woman and had kids, just like most of the men in the league would have been. But surprisingly, I discovered my judgment was way off. One night John's team was playing us and as soon as the games were done, he packed up and hit the door. I asked one of my other teammates, why John always left so fast after the games. It was explained to me that John's husband was older than he was and John needed to get home and tend to his needs. "Husband?" I asked shockingly.

"Yes," was my teammate's reply. "John is married to Paul. Paul is in his 70's, so John usually heads home."

Talk about being off the mark. I would have bet John was the proverbial boy scout, who after graduation, went into the military, served his time, and returned to the real world. He would have then met, fallen in love, and, married the woman of his dreams, fathered a few children and now is out weekly getting a break from his monotonous life, as the rest of us were doing. My heart went pitter-patter hearing the words "his husband." I was attracted to him, I liked talking to him, and now to find out he's gay, was as if I had stumbled into Neverland only to be re-born again.

I thought about him all the way home, and that night as I lay in bed. You know I don't think I had ever masturbated thinking of a normal, average man before him, but bet you that night, in my fantasies, I was sucking his dick and being fucked as my dildo slid in and out of me, while I was moaning his name.

I had turned the corner, I was interested in a man, not a trans lover, not a female with a strap-on, I wanted a man. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to be sucking his dick. I wanted him sucking mine and I really, really needed his dick in me. I was out of control!

As future weeks passed, I made it my business to find him in the bowling alley, to talk more with him, to exchange phone numbers to hint as best as I could without announcing over the PA system that I wanted his dick. Slowly but surely, I gained his attention and throughout the next few weeks, John would stay a little longer, would have a beer with me, or play some darts before heading home. And once the seal was broken and the texts started coming in and we were chatting here or there, I was hoping sexual interests between us would progress.

One night John invited me out for a beer after work. He had written in a text that he had such a bad day at work, didn't want to go home, and needed a break. Of course, I agreed. I got the address from him and met him at the bar he chose. We had a great time, eating some buffalo wings, drinking a few beers, and playing some darts. As the night progressed and my inhibitions were down, my alcohol level was up and my brain filter was not functioning, John asked me if I was dating someone. I advised him I had just broken off a situation with a female, but that I was "Bi-Sexual and I liked boys as well."

I couldn't believe I had said that. It was the first time; I had spoken those words aloud to anyone. He was shocked to hear me say that, probably thinking of me, the same that I had thought about him. That I was in essence the straight normal guy, just getting out of the house. From then on, the conversations grew. The anticipation grew, and the interest in one another skyrocketed.

John had told me through conversations that he married Paul when he was 33. Paul was 50, at the time. They had a good life together, but now that Paul was 75 and in poor health. John felt he was more of a roommate than a husband. He loved Paul, no doubt about that, but they hadn't been sexually active in almost 10 years, and if it wasn't for Paul's age and health concerns, he would have left him years ago.

I felt bad for John, I truly did. It summoned up the thoughts of what life may have been like if I had stayed with Claire. She was almost 20 years older than me. What would have happened a decade or two later, when she just couldn't be sexually active anymore, and I still wanted it or needed it?

I knew what he felt like, how much he needed that passion again. That sexual promiscuity that comes in a relationship. I wanted to text him during conversations like those to tell him, "I'll suck your dick." Or "Stop by after work, I'll handle things for you," but I didn't want to make it uncomfortable for him. Especially considering the bowling league, with many players knowing him well, and those who knew Paul. But that all changed a few weeks later when I met him for a drink, a few smokes, a long chat, and time inside his pickup truck with the air conditioning blowing, which led me to blow him.

That summer night in southern California was overly hot. An ice-cold beer and some time away from home is what we both needed. As we sat in the bar, I felt something inside of me swirling like a whirlpool. I had come full circle with who I was interested in and what I wanted. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to kiss him. To be alone somewhere. I wanted to feel that. More importantly, I wanted to suck his dick. I wanted to know if this slow change from women to men was actually what I wanted. Were all the likes, passions, and desires real, or was it just something built up in my head, especially after Claire and that pink dick.

I wanted to know what it was like to give a blow job again. I wanted to see if sucking dick with a man I was interested in, was going to be as fulfilling as I wanted it to be. Did I want that mouthful of cum, or after it was done, would it just be another notch on my bedpost of lovers I had tangled with?

As our evening was drawing to a close, we walked out into the parking lot together. Neither of us had made any moves or hinted towards anything sexual, but there was tension in the air. I felt like I should have been holding his hands, and climbing into his truck, so he could drive us home to be together, but I was still unsure of his interest in me, or if he would proceed further if he was interested.

As we stood outside of his truck talking, we both got overly heated again and were lightly sweating due to the sweltering heat. John suggested I get in and he'd throw on the air as we sat and chatted more. I graciously accepted and suddenly felt very small, very feminine, and very odd that I was going to be sitting in the truck with him. When we were both seated inside, we both had a few smokes with the windows rolled down, the engine running, and air on as we sat and tried to calm the nervousness, I think we both had.

As I threw my finished cigarette butt out the window, I looked over at John and said, "We'll I guess I better get going."

With that, I leaned toward him to hug him. I wanted to kiss him, but for some odd reason, I just couldn't do it. As we pulled from our embrace, we stopped inches from each other's faces. We sat staring into each other's eyes. My heart was thumping because I knew we were about to have that first kiss. I reached my hand out and slid it along the side of his face, feeling his skin and the stubble of his goatee. As I leaned in, John leaned forward and our lips met. It was a soft closed-lip kiss. I could feel his lips trembling as much as mine were.

We parted briefly and as we both came closer again our mouths parted and we kissed deeply. I felt tingling inside of me, I hadn't in a long time. Not since Claire first wore that pink dick, was my stomach so full of excitement and butterflies, as it was that moment. As we kissed our hands explored our bodies. It was months of chats, interest, flirtations, and internal sexual desires all being released all at once. When I slid my hand down onto his leg and was rubbing up and down his thigh, I could feel his reaction deep within our kiss. We were going to have something between us. The question was, how far was it going to go tonight?

I felt myself getting hard. I was excited. I was eager and I wanted to please him. More importantly, I wanted to suck his dick. I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted to feel how hard I would be, how aroused I would get, and to see if I had that passion, while I was giving head. I slid my hand further up between his legs until my hand covered his dick and balls, tucked deep away under his cargo shorts.

John was frozen, I think he was in a panic because he was about to do something, I'm sure he never would have thought would happen. He sat back in his chair, almost pushing his back into the seat, both arms down at his sides, tightly held down, as if he was stuck in that position. I lowered my face and used my hands to start unbuckling his belt. I could tell he was in utter disbelief that I was going to blow him right here in his truck.

When I got his belt open, I fumbled around his button and zipper until I finally got it open and the zipper down. I grabbed both sides of his shorts and edged them down a bit. I lowered my body weight and my stomach laid across the armrest as my face and head sank even lower into his lap. I reached for the top of his underwear waistband and slowly pulled it up and away from his skin. Deep inside his underwear sat his slightly erect stubby dick, nestled there neatly tucked away. He had pubic hair around the top, but the rest appeared shaven and clean. I pulled his underwear down further and harder trying to get it to stay down, as his hand came to rest on the side of it holding it down for me.

I reached my hand out and softly caressed his dick. As I continued to touch it, he started to grow harder and get a bit longer. I liked seeing him getting hard and he adjusted his butt down a bit, edging his shorts down further. It was wild seeing a dick popping out from inside of his underwear, almost calling out to me, saying, "Come suck me."

Now, I had sucked dick before this and had come face to face with a pink plastic dick a host of times, but this was the first "man" I had been with, and as much as I wanted it, it was still very nervous. I wanted it, and I was interested in him. But sucking off a regular guy was a new experience for me. As I hovered over him looking at his dick, I did feel an excitement inside of me that I had not had since I could remember. Before I could even phantom more, my head leaned down, I picked up his partially erect cock with my fingers placing it right at my open mouth, and slid his dick into it.

I went all the way down, hearing John moan out in pleasure. A pleasure I am sure he hadn't had in a long time. As I slowly withdrew to his tip, I felt the feel and skin texture I had been longing for sliding across my tongue. I slowly bobbed up and down on his dick until he was fully erect, pulling from my mouth, holding it in my hand, looking at it, staring at it, wanting to see it as best as I could before I started sucking him off more.

As I put his dick back in my mouth, I bobbed up and down on it, like I had learned to suck Claire's pink dick. As deep and as long as I could, only to return to the tip and dive back in again. I felt John's dick sliding in and out of my mouth and as nervous as I was, I was starting to get extremely hard while blowing him. It was, in essence, what I had longed for, for some time. A hard cock to suck on.

John was breathing harder as I sucked on his dick, my cock buried deep in my pants hard, bulging, almost pulsing as if I wanted to cum while sucking him off. I unbutton my pants with my hands, reached in, and let my hard dick pop up and point towards my stomach as I contemned sucking John off.

I loved the fact that he was rock-hard, and was getting into it. He was lightly moaning and threw it all, he whispered, "If you keep going like that I'm going to cum soon."

I wanted that cum. I need that cum. It had been years since I had taken a load down my throat, so I slowed my pace for just a minute or so, but then I began to suck him harder and deeper. I was on a mission; I was going to make him cum. I just couldn't stop. I wanted it! Every fucking inch of his dick in my mouth and I wanted the prize of getting him off.

While I was blowing him, John's hand came to rest on the top of my head as I bobbed up and down as he was softly whimpering my name. I knew he was close. What seemed like seconds to me, was minutes in reality. The more I sucked on his cock, the harder my dick got, and the more I felt I needed to be fucked. It was in those moments I realized; I really liked sucking dick. It wasn't a fantasy anymore. Some lonely nights of sexual fantasy, this was for real. I liked dick and I was loving sucking on his. I felt this was where I needed to be. Perhaps where I should have been my whole life, face down with a hard dick sliding in and out of my mouth, while my dick was rock hard, wanting to cum. It was, without a doubt, the moment I knew, I was never going back to women. From here on, I only wanted cock!

In my thoughts, I lost track of where I was. I was so focused on sucking his dick and my internal thoughts of being a cock sucker, as I slammed his dick in and out of my wet mouth until I heard John start to whimper; "Tim! Tim! Tim."

Just as I came back to reality, I heard John grunt out deeply and my mouth was filled with warm wet salty ooze hitting the back of my throat. I kept bobbing, sucking, and letting his dick slide in and out of my mouth, while he was shooting his cum inside of it. Taking down every drop. My cock was rock-hard, aroused even more, knowing that I was making him cum hard.

For two years I had been sucking a fake dick for hours on end without cum squirting, and now within minutes, I had made John cum, deep in the back of my throat. I wanted to keep going. I wanted him to pull me to his face and kiss me deeply. I wanted his mouth on my dick. I wanted everything I could have that night, in the darkness of the bar's parking lot, where I took the next steps to become a fucking cock sucking fag. I was loving it.

I slowed my momentum after I knew John had squirted all of his cum. When I finally pulled his dick from my mouth, I could taste his cum with full flavor. I could see his shimmering, saliva-coated dick in the pale light of the truck cab and I just about knew, at that moment, that dick is what I needed from now on.

I lifted and kissed John on his lips. Just a soft closed-lip kiss, but one that made me tingle inside. As I rested back onto my seat, looking his way, I could see he was breathing heavily still. A bead of sweat was on his forehead and his dick was still sticking straight up from his crotch as if it had been more than satisfied by my mouth.

"Wow." He spoke out. "I'm sorry that was so fast, but it has been forever." He furthered.

"No worries baby," was my reply. "As long as you liked it"

"I did." He replied.

My dick was still hard deep in my underwear, as my pants sat unbuttoned and unzipped. John leaned to me and kissed me again, his hands rubbing all over my chest and my body, and I knew he was about to return the favor. As he talked through our kiss, he whispered, "I want to suck yours." Hearing him say that made me even harder.