Hi. I'm Dave and this is my story. Let me tell you a little about myself.
I am six foot even, 155 pounds with shortish blonde hair, and blue eyes. I am thin, but with strong legs and ass. I have light body hair, a fair complexion, but I can hold a tan. I think I've got a nice body; I'd fuck me if I had the chance. I am twenty-four years old, two years out of college and waiting to see about grad school and what to do with my life.
I consider myself sexual. Bisexual if you like, but I think of it in sexual vs. romantic rather than bi vs gay vs hetero. I have always had a sexual attraction for both genders, but a romantic attraction to neither. Sex was an act unto itself, not the further expression of love. That would have been all fine and dandy as a way to go through life, but did I mention that I am shy and horrible at making initial contact? I can be a black hole of conversation until I am comfortable around people. This makes it very hard to get into the hookup culture. Strong sex drive, good looks and body and zero social skills; that's me.
I would not say I was closeted, I just didn't talk about sex or sexuality. I figured that was my business. Besides, I really had not had much experience with either gender so most talk was purely theoretical at this point. I let people think what they wanted to think and most people seemed to default me into hetero. Whatever. I'm Dave and that is all they need to know.
I had been in Nashville for about a year. I had gone there from up North to live somewhere else for a while. I had lived in the same town for middle and high school and gone close by for college. I wanted to get out and have a chance to create my own identity as an adult or at least live somewhere no one knew me. I planned on staying until I found out what I wanted to do next or just got tired of being here and moved on. I would have bet on the second. I was mostly living off money my grandparents left me, but I'd supplement it by working part time as a barista in a local coffee shop. And I could live fairly cheaply, too.
I lived in a, well, quiet would not describe it, but less traveled area of the city. Technically, I was in between one of the small towns that radiate outward from Nashville (though all part of Nashville proper) and the city itself. It was a strange area, we had the mini-marts catering to the commuters coming in and out of the city, and mostly there was a lot of driving and not many sidewalks. It was a mix of open spaces, light industry, warehouses, and a few one street housing developments or apartment buildings scattered seemingly at random. A big four lane highway was the main drag and I lived on a dead end street off of that. I really could not call it a cul-de-sac because it just ended at the river. I was about a half mile down the road, down a hill and around a curve. I didn't get much noise from the highway, but I got it from other places.
It was a duplex built into the side of the hill. My landlady lived next door, but with separate driveways on opposite ends of the house, we rarely crossed paths. The duplex had a garage basement and I used that mostly for coming and going, the front door was mostly decorative. The basement had originally just been unfinished garage space, but one of the earlier tenants had built a windowless bedroom out of part of it. My last roommate had used it as a music practice room. Upstairs, I had two more bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and one and a half baths. It was a lot of space for one person, and I was getting it dirt cheap.
At first I could not understand how so much space could be so inexpensive, especially in a city that was becoming as expensive as Nashville. I soon figured it out. First, the place had a decent sized yard, but little of it was usable. The front and one side were all hill. Another side was the landlady, but out the backdoor there was a covered patio that led right into another steep hill. The view from the backdoor was a green wall. Then, there were the high tension lines that ran right over the house. I'm not sure what the long term health effects of that were, but I figure someday I'll find out. Finally, there were the airplanes. The house was right under one of the departing flightpaths from BNA, and the roar and rattle of jet engines soon became part of the background noise of my life. Not the greatest location, but cheap and cheap enough that I was in no hurry to replace the roommate who had left to join a touring bluegrass band.
I was pretty much alone in the city and, aside from a few beers with work acquaintances, had not made any real connections. I'd had a roommate, but he had left. My rent was cheap, so I didn't need an immediate replacement. I liked having my own space.
Besides, I had another project in mind and I did not want to have to arrange this around a roommate.
I wanted to get fucked in the ass. And not just fucked, but tied up and fucked hard. I'd had more than my share of rape fantasies and thought that, in the right safe environment, it might be time to act on them. If I was going to do this, I was going to do this big and right. It would be worth my time.
Why anal? Why do I like chocolate cake? It's just the way I'm wired, I guess. But I have always wanted to have someone do me in the ass. More than that, I want to have someone force me to do it. I liked the idea of being desired, of being forced, to be used as a sex object.
I was not in a "pursuing woman" phase. I tended to either be into women or men at any time, but never both. My desire for sex with women was in a different place in me than my desire for sex with men. Generally, I liked to fuck women and get fucked by men. At least in theory, in reality I'd fucked one girl and blown (and been blown by) one guy. Not exactly a stellar resumé for 24.
I had been having the urge to get fucked and since there was no roommate to worry about at the moment, I decided to make this a reality. I was extremely sexually wound up. It had been a year and a half since the last time I had any sexual contact with another person and my body was electric. I would spank it at least three times every day and was still ready to explode with pent up sexual energy. I needed another person in my sex life.
But I thought I had found a solution when I had stumbled on a site called "Predator or Prey".
Predator or Prey
What is Predator or Prey? Well, I found it while searching for ways to fulfill my "Dave Gets His Ass Fucked" project. I knew what I wanted and, as desperate as the need had become now that I was taking it seriously, I was not going to settle for less.
The site was where predators (the fuckers) met up with prey (the fucked). Members would fill out a profile and post it saying what you were looking for and what was okay and off limits. Members created scenarios in which predator fucks prey. Given the nature of the game, these tended to involve a lot of bondage, rape and submission. Predator and prey would message and work out the exact details of what they were going to do and put it into a formal binding agreement.
The agreements were the lifeblood of Predator or Prey. You could get rated for performance, but what really mattered was how well you followed all of your agreements. Too many times not completely fulfilling every part of the agreement would get you a bad reputation, less opportunities and could put you on probation. If you broke an agreement, did a no show or called it off midway through, you were suspended for six months for the first one and kicked out for the second.
It was just what I was looking for.
