Steadily Shown His Place

The story that follows is, for the most part, true. It is part one of a real experience that took place over several years. I have filled in or slightly modified some details, and of course changed the names. The story makes much more sense if you read the previous chapters first.

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My meetings with Jim had been going on for about 5 years. In hindsight, it is amazing to me how much he had changed over that time. Five years ago he was an average looking guy with a bit of a belly who was bi-curious, and had no idea he was seriously hung. Chalk it up to being a grower not a shower, but his full 8 inches were really only the beginning of an incredible package, it was the nearly thick as my wrist shaft and huge incredibly well shaped cock head that made him world class in the cock department. And he had no idea. Our first meeting was supposed to be two guys meeting up to swap blowjobs.

Now five years later Jim is very different. His transformation really began when he and I met, and was driven by his cleverly malicious girlfriend at the time, Laura. She fully supported his exploring his bi interests, but immediately saw an opportunity when she saw my less than 4" cock, and the effect Jim's monster cock had on me. Laura told me months later that her number one turn on is using men's desperation for sex to humiliate them. Laura quickly set up a structure for my relationship with Jim that remains the basis of how he and I interact to this day. She instinctively knew that I would be willing to pay a very dear price for access to Jim's cock, and dictated the terms. She structured a total one way deal and total submission, knowing full well small cocked guys don't get the time of day from guys who are much younger and real well hung. So it was her idea that not only wouldn't Jim reciprocate, but I was not allowed to cum during a session. It was her idea that I strip naked at the door, and arrive fully erect. It was her idea that I wear a condom to avoid leaking strands of pre-cum. But most of all it was her idea that I pay Jim a fee, set initially at $50 and never really varying from that, to be allowed to get Jim off.

Ironically, all of this evil intention on Laura's part worked too well. While I am sure she smiles to this day knowing Jim has taken thousands of dollars from me over the years for the right to give him hundreds of orgasms, every time ending with me leaving his place with an achingly hard cock that badly needs relief, it ultimately backfired on her. At some point early on, a switch flipped in Jim. Somewhere deep inside his dominant nature was unleashed, to the point that Jim now freely admits he can only get hard with someone who will do anything for him out of desperation for his cock. Laura and Jim split up about a year after I met the two of them, but within six months Laura couldn't deny how much she missed his huge cock, his ability to cum over and over, and never ending stamina. She tried luring him back to a 'friends with benefits' arrangement of regular fucking, only to find a cold disinterest that could only be broken down with begging and total submission. Her DDD's that could enslave lesser men failed her for the first time, and now Jim has her groveling for his cock the same as me and many others.

So here we are, almost 5 years later. Regular meetings, at least monthly and often twice per month. On a couple of occasions I tried to quit, usually because I would get disgusted and burned out on paying him. The reasons are complex, it isn't just that it is humiliating to have to pay another guy to get him off however he chooses, but Jim also regularly reminds me that the other guys he meets with don't pay him. So more than once I have become disgusted and tried to give it up.

Jim had long ago set an expectation that I would visit at least monthly, making it clear that he wanted to be able to count on the money. In fact on a couple of occasions he subtly made it clear that he expected to be paid on months where schedules didn't allow us to get together. Nothing too obvious, but when I was anxious to get together after more than a month without his schedule suddenly got problematic, problematic until I had no choice but to offer the previous months fee with the normal fee I had to pay to get his zipper to come down. So a couple of times I did try to quit. I told him each time I needed to find a way to stop; I was respectful and didn't just disappear. Each time he was amused and condescending, immediately laying out what his expectations would be when I broke down and came back. The terms were pretty simple, I would have to pay the fee for each month I missed and should expect to be wearing panties for a long time in future sessions. Each time I would start out determined and convinced I could do it; eventually I would find myself masturbating regularly thinking about his huge hard cock, inevitably sending him an apologetic email asking to be allowed to visit him again. Once I made it 4 months. Jim thoroughly enjoyed watching me kneeling in front of him naked, my small cock hard as steel, as I counted out $200 for the months I had missed, then counted out $50 more for that day and began begging to be allowed to service him. Only later would I come to understand how seriously he took the money aspect of our business.

On two occasions I even tried to find a replacement for Jim.

Each time I found myself hunting for something that described Jim to a tee...about 10 years my junior, hung long and very thick. I described myself as fit and little younger than strictly accurate, added an inch to describe a 5" well shaped cock and was more than willing to do a no reciprocation deal for the right guy. I met up with a couple of guys, each one had supplied picture proof of large, powerful cocks, and each one then insisted on a live meeting to check me out. While the details were a little different each time, the result was always the same. I met this one guy Steve at a local shopping mall. We sat in the back of his very private van to talk, and he quickly directed me to fold all of my clothes neatly and put them on the front passenger seat. Steve, a good looking guy in his mid-30's, was fully dressed and it was obvious he intended to stay that way. He was looking for a 'regular guy', someone who was available at his whim to strip down and provide a very long, slow patient blowjob. His requirements were consistent availability, stamina, and an understanding that he doesn't want any jerking off or stroking of my cock at his place. 'Last thing I need is you getting too excited and having an accident, guys are useless after they cum' was how he put it. I tried to play it cool as we talked, but my cock kept getting progressively harder and I was helpless to stop it. By the time Steve finished describing what he was looking for I was fully and embarrassingly erect.

'So that's 5 inches huh' Steve asked with both clear skepticism and amusement.

I knew I was stretched out as long as it could get, and hoped the missing inch or so wasn't obvious, but it clearly hadn't fooled Steve. 'Almost' I mumbled.

'I guess most guys with little ones lie a little, huh?' he asked with clear disdain. He let the silence hang painfully, making it clear he expected me to admit the obvious.

'It's almost 4 inches' I said in a low voice, desperately trying to find a place to look as I avoided looking at him, but didn't want to just look down at my bobbing cock. However, I couldn't help noticing, to my horror, a large well formed drop of pre-cum had formed at the end of my cock. Steve clearly noticed too as he chuckled.

'Can we get to a real number, or are we going to keep playing games' he said impatiently. By now the whole dynamic in the van had changed. I probably was trying to deny the obvious when I stripped down at his direction, but Steve was clearly in charge now.

'3 ¾"' was all I could say in a low voice. The drop of pre-cum started to string downward off my cock, I was paralyzed by the humiliation of the situation.

'Take care of that, I don't want it on my seats' Steve directed sternly. I scooped it up awkwardly with my fingers, but sat there awkwardly with cum streaked fingers. Steve was losing patience. 'Let's go, put it in your mouth' he snapped. I did as I was told.

While the 'interviews' were all different, one guy actually put a ruler on my cock and had me read my measurement to him, they always wrapped up the same way and Steve was no different.

'Ok, so let's talk about how the money will work.' Up until now there had been no reference to money in any email or discussion, but as one of the guys told me pretty bluntly 'Older guys with little dicks don't get in the game without cash. There are plenty of young guys with six packs who will give no recip blowjobs if you have a big cock, so saying you will do no recip doesn't get you anything.'

Steve proposed that $20 an inch sounded fair, so sucking his 8" cock would cost $160. I tried to counter propose that I pay $20 for each inch of difference between my cock and his, and proposed $80 would be a fair result.

Steve laughed at my math for starters, pointing out I don't have a 4" cock so my proposal is actually $100. 'The only reason I care how big your dickie is because I know guys with 3" cocks don't get guys with 8". I'm not going to let you pay for the difference because I'm never going to touch your dick.' In every interview, sooner or later we got around to an expectation of a fee being paid.

I did pay Steve that day, it wasn't $160, he took the $120 I had with me and when he lowered his jockeys an impressive cock was revealed. Long, medium thickness with a proportionate if only a little undersized head. In other words, he wasn't in Jim's league.

So, inevitably, I would return to Jim every time.

While we had developed a friendly rapport, Jim and I weren't friends, and our roles in the relationship had become very firmly established. He was affable and pleasant, but was very clearly in charge. It was understood that I would treat him with deference and complete respect, and by now it had been several years since I had called him anything but Mr. Smith. I always paid him as the very last thing I would do when I was leaving. I was always dressed and ready to leave, with my slacks clearly tented by my hard dick, but early on he had made it clear he expected very enthusiastic and sincere thanks when I gave him his fee. That might have been the single most difficult requirement in each meeting, all I can think about is how badly I need to cum and ease my aching balls, and I am handing him cash and thanking him knowing his huge cock is hanging limp and satisfied after a couple of quality orgasms.

The rules of our meetings had changed very little over the years, and had settled in to a ritual that was understood and comfortable to both of us. While at one time he had forbidden me to email him and ask for a meeting, he had softened on this rule and generally now it was me who initiated setting up time. Usually he permitted me to meet without requiring me to wear panties, only occasionally did he re-establish this rule if I had displeased him by having to cancel a meeting or not visiting him as often as he preferred. But when his email saying we could meet included a color choice for the thong panties I had to wear, the message that he wasn't pleased was loud and clear. But the core ritual remained the same for each meeting.

First stop was a local Walmart where I would buy the panties if required, one box of 12 Trojan Magnums, and a package of 3 Lifestyle snugger fit condoms. All of these purchases needed to appear on one receipt that I had to give to Jim with his box of Magnums to prove I bought both sets of condoms at the same time. And yes, if you are wondering, you do get an occasional odd look when you are buying two sets of different sized condoms at the same time, and I have little doubt that the clerk can guess which box is for me. In the parking lot of Walmart I would wriggle out of my pants and Jockeys, pull on the thong panties and awkwardly pull the pants back on. And yes, embarrassing as it is I do generally get hard putting the panties on.

Stop number two is a Dunkin Donuts near Jim's home. I always go in so I can use the men's room. Jim doesn't allow me to use the bathroom at his house, so I take a nervous leak so my bladder is completely empty. I order Jim's coffee...large iced coffee, light with six Splenda. Summer or winter, doesn't matter, iced coffee it is.

Stop number three is a small shopping strip mall right around the corner from Jim's home. I park in the far corner of the parking lot and carefully watch the clock until it is exactly 10 minutes before our meeting. Jim has always insisted on strict punctuality. At 10 minutes to I unzip my fly and begin rubbing my cock through my underwear, stroking to the full erection that Jim requires when I arrive at his door as a show of respect. Usually this isn't difficult, though sometimes the stress of all of my chores and racing to arrive on time keeps me stubbornly limp, but somehow I always manage to get to my full 3 ¾" in time. Fully fluffed, I drive the quarter mile to Jim's home with one finger tracing my erection to keep it fully hard.

So just like any other month, I had emailed Jim two days ago requesting a meeting. He sent back a time when he was available, and had suggested I wear black panties. I was surprised because I couldn't think of any reason why he would be irritated with me, but I suspected he was just doing it to reinforce his power. He knows I hate having to slip in to the lingerie department and find panties that match his request, then arrive at a cashier with boxes of condoms and panties. For the same reason he often likes to tell me to pick up some things on the way, mostly because he enjoys reinforcing that I have to do it. Usually they are mundane things like a twelve pack of soda or cigarettes for one of his girlfriends who wears a DD bra. Today's meeting had a new quirk. I had emailed the day before and asked if we could meet the next morning. Jim had instructed me to bring an additional box of 6 Trojans in standard size...so three sizes of condoms all on one receipt. I had followed his instructions, and clearly got an odd look from the Goth like 19 year old chick behind the counter as she scanned box after box of condoms and a black satin thong in size XL. I half expected her to ask if I had no idea how big my dick is. I assumed his request for regular sized condoms was so he could replenish his supply for his hung average friends, Jim has always enjoyed reminding me that I buy his condoms for the women and other guys he sees, hence the requirement of the 12 pack when he only uses one or two with me. So making me buy condoms for other guys I figured was just another way to screw with me.

Our meetings are always first thing in the morning, Jim has several extremely busty women friends who he sees regularly in the early afternoon, so he slots me in to early mornings so he can recharge after having me get him off a couple of times. This can often make the morning errands stressful, especially if he adds a few things to the list, but Walmart opens at 7 so I always get it all done. So like any of many, many meetings with him, I arrive at Jim's precisely on time, finger working the length of my hard cock, parking out in front of his home. I knew from experience that there would be a quite noticeable wet spot in the black satin, and the thong back had worked its way in to my ass in a way that I was now quite used to. Today I had forgotten to check if I had exact change for Jim's $50 fee, arriving with three twenty dollar bills means I will be paying him $60 because the thought he would give me $10 back is laughable. So I shuffle through my bills quickly and am relieved to find a twenty and three ten's. I gather the Walmart bag full of condoms in three sizes, give my cock one last stroke knowing once I get out of the car it will be off-limits, and grab his coffee and make my way to his door. Hands full, I push the bell with my knuckle of my hand holding the condom bag, though more than once I have amused myself by wondering if my hard dick could make the uncommonly low doorbell button depress sufficiently to alert Jim I had arrived. Likely it could.

Jim arrived at the door in his usual attire for one of our meetings...a baggy pair of sweat pants and a faded old t shirt in stark contrast to my being dressed for work.

He is always friendly enough in a superior sort of way, offering an indifferent 'Hey Skip' at the door in a ritual that begins our now standard opening conversation.

'Hello Mr. Smith, thank you for letting me visit.' Is my stock answer. I always, even after all these times, feel a little awkward and stressed at this point, much of it probably a result of being incredibly horny and having a full erection. I hand Jim his coffee with a mumbled 'I hope it's the way you like it'. He would never thank me for it or show any kind of gratitude.

There is a chair to the immediate right of Jim's entrance door, and it is well understood that I will immediately strip down, neatly folding my clothes and putting them on the chair in a precise pile, with my shoes on top of the pile. I hand Jim the bag full of condoms and hurriedly start to get undressed. Jim gets impatient if I take too long, and is very critical if I don't fold and stack my clothes neatly enough. But today he is quite pre-occupied studying the receipt and the boxes of condoms. As usual I can hear a television in the background, Jim usually has porn on the television when I arrive, I often wonder if porn just plays 24/7 here.

Jim is still studying the receipt for the condoms. 'These things are expensive,' he exclaims with a low whistle. 'Glad I don't have to buy them.' By now I was finishing folding my pants and putting the shoes on top of the pile, and chose to ignore the unsubtle little zinger, but he kept going. 'You know, I have always been surprised that your size condoms and mine cost about the same amount. Wouldn't you think mine would cost a lot more?' Jim was only getting warmed up. 'It does make sense the standard size costs less, there is more demand. I guess there are very few guys who are magnum size, and even fewer who need these fitted things. Look, you can tell, the box for the fitted ones is even a little dusty.'

Jim seemed to be consumed with the thought, but then snapped out it and looked down toward my pre-cum soaked panties. 'Pull the waistband down under your balls, let's head back.'

Head back meant toward the back bedroom, which is down the hall and through his family room. The waistband command was new, usually I just wear the panties back to the bedroom, then he has me take them off right away. But it became habit a long time ago to just do what Jim tells me to do, so I slipped the waistband under my balls as instructed and started to follow Jim to the back of the house. There is some odd and embarrassing about walking when you have a full hard on. It juts out and bounces, and makes it clear that you are aroused. It gives the other person power because there is no hiding that you want it. I couldn't help glancing down, and to my horror saw a string of pre-cum starting downward from the end of my cock. I was in a panic. Jim gets very angry if I drip pre-cum, generally when we get to the bedroom he has me put on my condom so I don't get pre-cum on anything, I do tend to flow pre-cum heavily. But his strictest rule is that I cannot touch my cock when I am at his place, so I didn't dare reach down to stop the string. The only exception to the 'no touching your cock' rule is when I put my condom on, and Jim always watches carefully to ensure there is no excessive handling involved. So the string kept extending toward the floor and we kept walking toward the sounds of a woman delivering a blowjob emanating from the television in the next room.