For three decades I've been playing with my own ass-hole, carefully impaling myself with rubber dildos. This has progressed to where I can comfortably take one a little larger than the 6-inch long, 6-inch circumference (1.9-inch diameter) of my own erect penis. Thrusting it into my hole as far as it would go, then pulling it back out, over-and-over again, I like to imagine it's another man using my 'man-cunt' for his pleasure as I wank my cock to a fabulous orgasm. This is great fun, but I have to do everything myself. I'm never able to just let go; to have a lover take over and use me as he wants; to be fucked as a woman is. My desire to be dominated and treated as a "bottom" had grown so intense that after a lot of consideration I finally decided to follow-through; to pursue "the real deal", and get my horny butt-hole fucked by a real man. To this end I read up on gay meeting places in my locale, got a tattoo, and started going to the YMCA...
I'm a white man of average height, with greying hair and a hippy-like ponytail, in better physical shape than the vast majority of adult men I see. I keep myself in decent shape. Not muscular; no "six-pack abs"; but fit. No 'spare tire' or beer belly. At the "Y" I make use of the one thing there which I otherwise have no immediate access to: the swimming pool. Particularly the diving boards. While wearing a tight-fitting "gay-hanky-code-correct" dark-blue bikini-style swimsuit bottom, like the ones you see on Olympic high-divers, my tattoo (more about it real soon) is much more visible than when wearing shorts or pants. My hope was that the tattoo would entice some well-endowed stud into taking me and making me his bottom, to be used (and perhaps abused!) however he saw fit. It was mentally challenging to prevent a hard-on while I was diving with all these mental visions of what I hoped would happen to me soon.
Every time I visited the 'Y' my attention was drawn to the other men there, constantly scanning and attempting to evaluate them, looking for any signs they might also be trolling for another man to have sex with. Several looked as though they were on-the-prowl, but like me: as potential bottoms. Apparently I had a lot of competition, with not enough Tops around to fulfill our needs. Had I wanted to top a guy myself I probably could'a easily picked up one of them and fucked his ass to my cock's content. I filed that bit of information away for possible future use. My search for a man to take me to bed continued.
One night while diving from the 1-meter board I noticed a middle-aged, 6-foot-plus, broad shouldered, square-jawed man with skin the shade of a dark brown M&M candy watching me dive. I'd noticed him earlier, but had no idea if he was interested or not in men, particularly white men. As I prepared for my dive into the pool I bent over exaggeratedly, barely resisting the urge to wiggle my butt at him. I hoped he didn't need eyeglasses to see me clearly as I displayed my entire tattoo for him. In high-contrast ink (on my pinkish-white caucasian skin), my "tramp-stamp" in the center of my lower back is of a dragonfly. The wings are green, blue and purple, but it's the dragonfly's body I wanted my admirer to see. The dark-blue tail normally disappears under my waistband, but while bent-over in my small bathing suit he saw that tail: an unmistakably human penis shape with a prominently pointed cock-head aimed down into the cleft between my ass cheeks. I squatted-down before my dive to ensure it was on full display for him.
In the locker room after my swim he walked up behind me as I was bent over putting my sneakers on. No one else was around. "Hey, little buddy, what's up with the tramp-stamp?" he growled to me from behind. My knees went weak and my heart skipped a beat! But I was ready. I'd rehearsed my first response to this line of inquiry earlier, just-in-case. I hoped he was game.
"It's an invitation to whomever's interested!" I barely managed to say without my voice squeaking with excitement. I continued tying my Converse All-Stars.
"Really?! Oh, that's nice." he growled again. "Say, I just may be interested!". His low voice had my cock beginning to stiffen-up. "Where'd you have in mind?"
"If you want I'll get a hotel room!" I managed to say as I stood and turned around to face him. His large chin gave his face a "He-Man" superhero look. He was tall enough to rest that awesome chin on top of my head. Then I looked up into his eyes. Those eyes... I hadn't seen his face up close yet, and was unprepared for those beautiful deep aqua orbs. If the eyes truly are windows to the soul, then I knew I was going to let this man do to me anything he desired. And I would do anything he desired in return. My first impression was of sincere goodness and honesty. Instantly I felt I could trust this man.
I stepped up to him. He put his hands on my shoulders and we peered into each others eyes. I was lost. I was his. I was about to faint! He caught me as my legs went limp. He gently set me back down on the locker room bench, then sat beside me.
"Are you OK?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
"Yeah, yeah, just a little faint. I think I just fell in love!" I whispered breathlessly.
"Oh!, Ha, ha! OK, well, then, maybe I'll stay right here until you recover!" He said, his voice not quite so bass this time, but still knee-weakeningly sexy. Now I understood how women sometimes get wet just from a man's voice. My cock was now fully erect in my pants and my ass-hole was tingling in anticipation.
"Thank you! But I don't think I WANT to 'recover'! My present condition feels pretty good, actually. Oh!, my name's..." I started to say, but he interrupted me.
"Roger. Yeah, I know. I was checking you out, earlier. You're my type, and evidently I'm yours! Tyler, by-the-way."
"OH!, Hi, Tyler! I hope you're my type!" I nearly squeaked again. "I would love to find out, AND prove I'm yours!"
"Your tattoo gave me the impetus to pursue you further. Until I saw it close enough I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to do so." he said. His diction indicated a high-level education, which I found intriguing.