It's Thursday night and I'm doing my usual shift on Gayline.
Gayline is not a crisis hotline. We only answer the phone between 7:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. Monday through Friday. Our volunteers are not trained counselors. Instead, we do "peer counseling," which is basically being a gay person to talk to.
A man calls. He asks about gay bars and cruising places, but he mostly wants to talk. That's what I'm here for.
His name is Dave. He's married. Of course. With children. Of course. And he feels guilty about having sex with men, but isn't going to stop.
Dave says, "I'm tired of men that want me to dominate them."
"Why do they want you to dominate them?"
"Probably because I'm a cop."
It figures. "Well, come see ME. I'll dominate YOU."
Dave sounds startled. "Uh . . . Do you mean that?"
"Sure." The idea has given me an instant hard-on.
We make the arrangements. The next Tuesday night, I'm surprised when he actually shows up at my place.
Dave looks like I'd imagined. I'm tall, rugged, and moderately athletic, but he's bigger, heavier, and built like a fullback. He's in his mid-thirties, a few years older than me. His close-cropped black hair is thinning on top and his cheeks are dark with beard stubble. Even in civilian clothes, he looks like a cop.
I get us beers and we sit on the couch. Dave stiffens when I press my knee against his, but he doesn't move away.
We drink a little of the beer and then I put my hand on his thigh. "I can see why men want you to dominate them." I slide my hand up to the big bulge in his crotch. Like me, he's wearing tight-fitting blue jeans. The outline of his cock is clearly visible through the stretched fabric. "You're a real stud."
Dave freezes, holding his beer halfway to his mouth. I stroke his swollen pole through his jeans, running my fingers up and down its shaft and pinching its cock-head. "Uh . . ." He takes a big swig of beer and then sets the bottle on the coffee table.
I stand up, then take Dave's hand and pull him to his feet. "Kiss me."
Dave looks scared. "I don't do that." He tries to pull away, but I'm holding both his hands.
"I'M in charge here." I take him in my arms and kiss him full on the lips. He resists at first, but then kisses me back. His mouth opens and his tongue darts against mine.
I've only had sex with a few women. None of them liked me to use too much tongue. Dave is kissing me the way women like.
So, I give him a MAN kiss—hard and dirty with lots of aggressive tongue. He growls and kisses me back roughly, our tongues thrusting and parrying while we rub crotches and fondle each others' butts.
I'm about to come in my pants. I push Dave away, then unfasten my jeans and let them fall around my ankles. I'm not wearing any underwear and my stiff cock springs up—long, thick, and proud.
Dave takes his own dick out. It's even bigger than mine, and just as hard.
I put my hands on Dave's shoulders and push him to his knees. "Suck my cock."
Dave stares at my rigid member. It's flushed with blood and leaking precum. He looks like he's going to protest, but then he smiles shyly and nods.
He wraps a hand around my swollen shaft, bends forward, and licks my cock-head, flicking the big blob of precum at my tip into his mouth.
"Come on," I whisper. "Suck it." Dave swirls his tongue over my crown's stretched skin and then takes my rod deep into his mouth. He circles his thumb and index finger around the base of my stiff pole and closes his remaining fingers around my balls, then slowly bobs up and down, sliding his compressed lips over my shaft and cock-head.
"Oh yeah." I knead his shoulders and then raise my hands to run my fingers through his buzz cut. "That's right."
Dave clamps his lips around the groove between my cock-head and shaft, then swirls his tongue over my cock-head while squeezing my balls and stroking my shaft.
