I started late in life on my journey to being a cocksucker, a year or so after my 50th birthday. I had spent years and years of fantasizing about being on my knees, a big, throbbing, boner down my throat and being rewarded with a hot, thick load of man cream. But I should slow down, my dick is already stiffening just typing those words and I need to get this whole story down on paper. Writing this will be cathartic as I confess my adoration for the male member and the sheer thrill I get out of servicing a hard cock to completion.
I've always associated with being "straight," a southern born redneck that enjoys hunting, fishing, football, and pretty girls. But if you saw the look of pure lust in my eyes and the way my cock throbs and leaks when I'm on my knees, naked, getting my face fucked by an alpha male, you would not consider me straight in the least. And I can't argue with that assessment.
Straight, gay, bisexual...those are just labels that mainstream folks put on sexual preferences, to differentiate themselves from those they consider different, odd, or just plain perverted. Paint me whatever label you prefer, I don't really care. While I still love beautiful women and enjoy fucking girls of all types, I'm never in a higher state of bliss than when I'm giving a dick a worshipful blowjob.
A little on my background; after I graduated from graduate school, I married my college sweetheart and started a job in a big city. I spent 20 plus years enjoying the good old American dream, nice house, great kids, cool toys, and a social circle of good friends. Thoughts of cock were pretty much limited to a lonely jerk off session now and then.
In my teens, I'd messed around with guys a few times. Typical high school hijinks like jerking off with a buddy as we watched his Dad's VHS collection of 1970's porn. Or a poker game that turned into "strip poker" with the loser having to blow the winner. Back then, we didn't even know what "gay" was, it was just horny teenagers letting off steam and doing forbidden things.
But those images stayed with me through adulthood, as I often remembered the thrill of a buddy filling my mouth with his cum in the woods behind his house. I couldn't flush those memories no matter how hard I tried. I knew my wife would never understand and my friends would at best laugh, or maybe even ostracize me if I talked to them about my cock lust.
Anyway, as the kids went off to college, the wife and I continued to drift further apart. Our sex life was non-existent and I thought it was because my wife had decided sex just wasn't on her agenda. I found out the hard way that my assumption was wrong one day when I came home from work early.
I entered the house through the garage and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I heard what sounded like a porn playing in the family room and wondered if one of the kids had found my secret stash of DVDs. Rounding the corner, to my surprise, I found the porn sounds were coming from my wife, bent over the back of the couch getting plowed by our pool guy. His long, fat latino cock was repeatedly thrusting in and out of my wife's pussy, her climatic concert of moans and groans something I had never heard emitting from her prim and proper mouth.
"Yes, Carlos, fuck my cunt with that big brown cock."
"Slap my ass, stud. Make me your bitch."
"Oh, fuck, I need that fat dick so bad. Don't fucking stop you animal."
"Breed my pussy with your hot Mexican cum."
I should have been furious, but instead I hid behind the door and massaged my growing boner through my slacks. While I was amazed that my wife had this in her, I was hypnotized by Carlos' huge fuck stick as he screwed the living daylights out of her pussy. I actually thought to myself, "Damn I'm jealous. I wish Carlos was feeding me that fat pipe."
I played it very cool and walked right up to them, clearing my throat to get her attention.
"Don't let me interrupt," I began. "I'm home early and I think I'll go for a swim. Hopefully Carlos got the pool cleaned before you put him to work on other things."
"Shit," was all my wife could manage, Carlos frozen with his cock buried to the hilt in my wife's box.
"No worries," I continued. "I'm glad to see you still have some sex drive in you. Hell, you'd make a porn star blush the way you are carrying on. After I get in a swim, I'll pack up and start moving out. I think this is the official end of our marriage."
With that, I headed upstairs to put on my swimsuit. I couldn't believe how calm, collected, and detached I had acted. But to be honest, I really just wanted an excuse to end this boring and loveless marriage. And boy did I have an excuse now.
Oh, and I also wanted to get upstairs, drop my trousers, and jerk out a huge load dreaming of Carlos' fat sausage. My dick lust was back in a big way and maybe if I had the balls, I'd finally start acting on my desires.
Over the next few weeks, we worked out an amicable divorce. Susan, my wife, kept trying to apologize, and she would get so mad when I just shrugged it off.
"Dammit, Bob, don't you want to try and make this work," she'd shout.
"Too late for that dear," I'd respond. "I just can't get the image of our pool guy's penis buried deep in your vagina out of my mind." And it was 100% true; I couldn't get the erotic image of his big, hard, throbbing dick out of my mind. Of course, I had no problem forgetting the image of my wife's pussy wrapped around his meat.
I let her keep the house, but I got all my toys and only had a small monetary upkeep payment to make to her monthly. The kids were told that we had just drifted apart and the divorce was the best thing for both our sanities. To be honest, we got along better as a family once I had moved out.
I bought a small fixer upper in a decent neighborhood, near to work. I dated a few women over the next couple of years and spent hours upon hours surfing porn, dreaming of dick, and trying to get up the nerve to act on my fantasies. I'd post on Craigslist, looking for dick to suck. I'd exchange body pictures and was on the verge literally hundreds of times to meet a guy and service him, but I always flaked at the last minute. I always had an excuse; too far to travel, uncomfortable hosting, guy sounds like a serial killer (which actually isn't an excuse, but rather the norm on most of these hookup sites), the dog ate my homework, etc., etc.
I bought a rubber dildo and practiced giving head with the cock stuck on a mirror in the bedroom. I became fairly proficient at deepthroating and kept buying longer and fatter rubber cocks to improve my skills. These sessions always gave me a raging hardon and led to the most intense whacking. I loved cumming on the dildos and then eating my own load as I slurped it from the veiny rubber dicks.
I became infatuated with sissy and tranny porn and started dressing like a sissy slut. I bought higher and higher heeled stilettos, tons of silk stockings, garter belts, bras, wigs, and even makeup. I was not now, nor would I ever be a "passable" sissy and I only dressed up in the privacy of my own home. I'm a hairy guy, with a full beard and a very masculine look. But dressing like a cheap whore made me even hornier to suck an alpha male's cock.
Having hit 50, I realized I was in lousy shape and started working out again, losing a few pounds and getting back in reasonable condition. While I felt better, the one area it really helped was in my cock. I started getting longer, firmer, more sustainable erections that just enhanced my hours and hours of edging. The other advantage of spending more time in the gym was the showers. All that testosterone flowing through the locker room and all those naked men with big, dangling cocks made my mouth water. If it weren't for the embarrassing boners I'd pop in the shower, I could have stayed there for hours admiring all that manly dick.
Over Presidents Day weekend, I had plans to do some work in the backyard. Unfortunately a big storm blew in and the weekend was pretty much a washout. I started posting on Craigslist that Saturday afternoon, cruising for some cock to suck. I did some work inside the house, wearing a pair of frilly pink panties under my basketball shorts and periodically checking my email. I had no expectation that I would actually follow through...I mean, why would I? I always chicken out.
I had a couple of promising leads, but nothing actually materialized. A guy would finally send me a picture of his dick and the little stump would look like it was covered in herpes or the guy would insist on me sending a face pic, which I always refused to do. I didn't want the world to potentially know about my cock-sucking fetish. Anyway, Saturday ended and I was still cock-less.
Sunday was much the same and by dark I decided to pour myself a healthy tumbler of twelve-year old scotch and type out one more posting. By this time, I was so edged up, having not shot my load in seven days, that I was ready to abandon my fears and really do this, if I could find a sane guy. I even posted that I was willing to host, under some conditions.
Cum Over and I'll Swallow Your Load...
I enjoy getting naked, falling to my knees, and getting my face fucked rough and deep. We can meet at the park near my house, check each other out, and then walk to my home. I'll open the garage door, we'll have some fun, then you'll leave. Be disease free (I am) and ready for head and we may be a match. Happy to share a body pic.
I posted about 6pm and made a light dinner. Most of the trolls that replied had the typical bullshit responses; "are you available?", "when and where?", "can I suck your dick too?", etc. Around 6:30 I got a reply with some potential.
