I'd been at my computer all of twenty minutes. It normally didn't take me long to key on one person. I singled him out. His casual replies made him seem to lack any urgency or the distinct stench of desperation. I asked him if it was strange being in this chatroom. It was old school with auto refresh features and no emoticons. I told him that we could be texting.
He'd said it reminded him of his college days, logging in at two in the morning, wired on coffee and Twizzlers. To him, it made the need to get off that much more enticing, the way his body seemed to be vibrating from the caffeine and the erotic thrill of sharing a secret longing with another man - like he was now.
He'd explained that his wife was upstairs sleeping. He was in the den. I'd asked him to tell me what he was wearing. I conjured the image of him in cotton pale blue pajama pants and a summer robe. My imagination fell short when the picture downloaded to my screen. Soft light from a desk lamp illuminated the light brown hairs on his upper thighs. They grew sparse leading up into the hem of his red boxers. I was disappointed that he wasn't hard underneath the boxers. I couldn't even judge the size of it. There was a slight rise in the fabric that extended up to the waistband of the boxers, but that could have been the fabric folding in a provocative way. I didn't want him to think that I wasn't pleased so I sent him a short reply asking if he was a runner. It was an ego stroke to get his confidence up before I asked for a much more revealing picture. He responded to me that he did, three miles a day.
It showed. I scrolled up to the picture once more. His legs were sculpted. I wanted to touch them. I asked for another picture. Before the screen could refresh again an additional photo downloaded. This was what I had wanted to see. The boxer shorts were down around his knees. Lying slightly erect against his lower stomach was his cock, his beautifully uncut cock.
I didn't want to sound as eager as I was to suck it so I told him in a simple statement how wonderful his cock was. I paused to let the compliment sink in before I asked him to meet me so that I could show him just how much I appreciated him sending the photo.
The chatroom refreshed several times before he answered back with his regret that he couldn't go out to meet me tonight. I slumped down in my desk chair, disappointed. I recovered quickly and posed to type him that I was sorry to hear that we wouldn't be able to meet. The chatroom refreshed before I started to type and he sent:
"...but you can come here."
The implication of those few words made my mind spin in several directions. Each one enticed me. I concealed my eagerness in my acceptance of his invitation.
In three posted messages I had his address and instructions of what time and where to enter the house. I glanced at the clock, switched to a new browser window and found directions.
I answered him to state that I could be at his door step in twenty minutes.
"Great," was all he sent.
The chatroom refreshed. I saw the notification that he had signed off. I half expected a little more...foreplay. It was alright. Any foreplay he could provide in the way of describing how he wanted it would only serve to amp me up more than I already was. I had the feeling that whatever was going to happen in his house tonight was going to outshine anything he could put into words.
It seemed to take forever to drive to his neighborhood. I tried not to speed. The last thing I needed was a ticket at three in the morning. I didn't want any delays. Besides, I was too turned on to answer an officer with anything but an honest reply if I were asked, "Where are you headed?"
"To suck some married dude's thick uncut cock, officer. Maybe swallow his load. Depends on how good it feels down my throat."
I chuckled to myself, imagining the look on an officer's face if he got that as a response. I stopped laughing when I realized the fantasy was making my cock hard again. I down-shifted then turned into his neighborhood. It was an older neighborhood. Most of the houses had one or two mature trees in the front yard standing guard against the night. The streets didn't have street lamps which made it hard for me to navigate the winding streets and to see the house numbers. I flicked on my high-beams to get my bearings. I spotted a house number then counted three houses down to his.
His house was the corner lot at the end of the block. His yard stretched around to the beginning of the cross street where he told me to park. I put the car in park then killed the engine. I checked the time. Five minutes early. I couldn't go in. I had to wait for his signal. A chain linked fence marked the perimeter of his yard, making it easy for me to see the patio door.
I rolled down the window and let the night air sneak into the car. The sounds of the neighborhood filtered around me. Crickets sang to one another from the seclusion of the lawns. A dog barked. Sirens blared from an emergency vehicle far off in the distance. Four minutes.
I felt a swell of nervous nausea. What the fuck was I doing here? In the middle of the night no less. I suddenly wished I'd gone with the guy that told me he was holed up in a Marriott across town and needed some male attention. Then, I thought about the simple message that hooked me: "My wife is asleep upstairs."
I haven't ever knowingly cruised a married man before. Knowing was making all the difference right now. My cock flinched again. This time I cupped my hand over it, squeezed and tried not to think about that trail of light brown hairs leading up to a precious mouthful. Two minutes.
Was my clock fast? Was it slow? I wished he'd given me his number so I could check in. "Hey, I'm here. Salivating for your load." I moved my tongue around in my mouth thinking about licking the bulging vein that ran along the side of his cock. I thought about how that might get a drop of precum out of him. I hoped it would. I groaned and stopped stroking my palm over my hardon.
I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. The porch light flickered off and on three times. The signal. Now my heart was in my throat. I did my best to not bolt out of the car and run up to the gate like my cock wanted me to. I closed the car door calmly and as quietly as I could and made my way across the lawn. The crickets stopped chirping at random moments. I could hear my footsteps in the grass. I could hear my heartbeat and even my blood rushing through my veins. Adrenaline? I have never been so nervous and so turned on in my life.
"Be cool," I said to myself as I lifted the latch on the gate. It made a horrible screech. I stood still, half expecting lights to come on in every neighboring house. None. I closed the gate behind me. This time there was a soft whine. The porch light provided enough illumination for me to find the stone walkway leading up to the patio. There he was, standing there in those boxers waiting to open the door for me. Fuck me, he was good looking to boot.
He slid the door open. He didn't allow me much room to enter. I stepped inside. Our bodies touched. I looked him up and down. My brain pieced together the parts of him that were missing from the downloaded photos online. His hair was longish and curled around his ears. His beard was trimmed neatly, and he was slightly taller than me. I liked.
