Those moments when you can't look in the mirror because you aren't sure whether it'll be you looking back or the debased cocksucker you've become. The excitement and rush of adrenaline that had followed servicing the older man in his dark slightly dingy house had quickly evaporated to be replaced with uncertainty, doubt and rising shame.
"Oh what have I done?" echoed plaintively about in my head before I even got home. Certain that I was openly wearing the mark of my shame for everyone to see I trod along the street with my head down praying no one I knew would come along. Escaping into my apartment was accompanied by a wild sense of relief that was short lived as my sordid performance earlier in the day could not be denied. Oh what have I done.
"Fuck I don't even know the guy's name!" I lamented to the empty apartment as misgivings and self-loathing threatened to consume me. Despite feeling as though I slipping headlong into an abyss of despair as I remembered the details of debasing myself for this unknown man's pleasure I was acutely aware of the erection building in my pants.
Swallowing hard and hating myself I released my straining cock and slowly began to stroke it. Consumed with disgust that I was excited sexually by my memories of being a compliant cocksucker for a fat old man I squeezed my cock painfully stroking it with more authority. Soon I was lost in my need to cum and was pumping my cock furiously. Just before the orgasm ripped through my body my mind filled with the vision of the fat old man's face and the smirking contempt for me plastered on it.
My cock erupted in my hand and my body thrashed about as if jolted by electric shocks. Thoroughly spent I was left gasping for breath mindlessly stroking my still hard cock with cum soaked fingers. Through the revulsion churning in my stomach I couldn't help wondering if the old man's orgasms were as good as one I had just had.
My phone didn't ring for days but the memory of sucking another man to orgasm and tasting his cum never lost its edgy thrill nor its soul crushing shame. Constantly cursed with sights, smells and words that reminded me of either the time at the beach or at his house, I seemed to be always in a state of excited distraction. I hated myself and couldn't wait for my phone to ring.
When it did I was filled with dread knowing that I would answer it and comply with whatever intentions the man had for me. His voice seemed distant and echoed in my head, "Come over." I stood there trembling to my toes listening to the dead phone in a trance. Distracted and nervous I scurried about my apartment trying to get ready, it seemed impossible but somehow I managed. Returning to his house happened in a dream and standing out front I was again torn between the urge to surrender to him and my base needs or flee.
My base needs won out and I headed for the backdoor. Timidly I tried the door almost hoping it would be locked and feeling a rush of revulsion when it wasn't, then hating myself for entering anyways. To my surprise he was sitting placidly at his kitchen table. I stood there frozen staring at him but he didn't seem to notice me or care that I was there. He was only wearing a stained white singlet and boxers while drinking coffee, smoking and casually doing a crossword. I stood there staring with one hand on the doorknob prepared to flee but knowing I wouldn't.
His voice rattled me when he murmured quietly, "You just gonna stand there all morning boy?"
Like I had been sucker punched in the guts my knees gave out and I sank heavily to the floor. Once there I didn't need instructions to know to disrobe and get naked. I fumbled and struggled to get my clothes off while casting furtive glances at the man sitting there seemingly indifferent to my presence. When I was finally naked I sat back on my haunches to nervously await his instructions. He made me wait and I knew that he was testing me, testing my desire to be there, testing his control over me. I trembled and waited.
At the sound of him clearing his throat I looked up and my stomach sank at the cold calculating look in his eyes. I couldn't help noticing that the tip of his cock was poking through the open fly of his boxers. As I watched more and more of his cock emerged as he became erect. I stared fixated watching his cock grow before my eyes. My stare didn't leave his manhood when he asked me conversationally, "You need an invitation boy?"
