I was in turmoil for the next few days. I kept telling myself: I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'M NOT GAY! But then the image of Dom's cock waving in front of my face would appear. It's glistening length hardening before my eyes. I swallowed hard as I remembered how it felt in my mouth. I secretly wanted to be on my knees again.
My other half, Claire, snuggled up next to me in bed on Friday night. We didn't make love very often so it was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
"Hey big fella. It's been a while," she cooed as her hand wandered down my chest and brushed my cock. It twitched and began to harden. She giggled and I sighed. This should help redress the balance, I thought hopefully. She pulled back the cover and moved down my body, planting dainty kisses on my nipples and tummy. Then she licked my shaft and took my cock in her mouth. It was a very rare treat so I guess I must have done something right that week. Maybe I'm radiating extra testosterone, I mused with a smile, closing my eyes.
But it just wasn't the same as before. I got hard, of course, and she sucked my pole diligently, before clambering over my body and sinking her moist pussy on to my cock. But it wasn't a patch on the stonker I'd had in the shower cubicle. As I lay there fondling her tits my mind drifted back to Dom's dick and my cock started to harden again. I thrust upwards and she moaned, but in my head it was Dom thrusting into my face. Then she squealed and her pussy contracted, sucking my cock deeper into her pulsating vagina. Normally that would have been the trigger that set me off, but instead I simply watched as she bucked, strangely remote, as if I was watching a porn clip. My cock stayed hard but I just couldn't get there, no matter how much I tried. Eventually she slowed and sighed, collapsing on to my chest.
"mmmm, that was good," she whispered. Then she noticed. "Oh, didn't you...?"
"It's fine. I guess I'm a little stressed with work."
"Sorry," she said, then she slid off me and reached for my hard on. "Would you like me to...?"
"No, it's fine. Honestly. Maybe next time," I grunted and kissed her delicately. "Besides, I love watching you cum. That's more than enough."
***
Weekends are generally lazy days. Cooking, gardening, the occasional decorating project. I was just about to cut the lawn when my phone buzzed.
"I need sucking. Pick me up from KFC on Stone Street. Hurry up.'
I stared at the message. OK, I thought, taking a deep breath. I could ignore this. He may just call Mike, or move on to someone else.
The phone pinged again. It was a picture of Dom's cock, hanging out of his jeans. The bulbous head was glistening slightly and I could see his hand wrapped around his ball sack. Fucking Hell! I thought, quickly deleting the image. But I noticed my mouth had started watering. That cock looked so... delicious!
I thought it through, trembling slightly at the thought of what I was about to do. Then I headed back into the house.
"Just popping to the store," I said, trying to remain nonchalant. Claire just grunted as I passed her.
As I slid into the car and started up the engine, the phone pinged again.
"You'd better be on your way, cocksucker. If your mouth isn't round my dick in 10 minutes, I'll be coming to your house for it."
I quickly messaged back to say I was on my way. As I turned out on to the main road I realised I had a hard on in my jeans. I'm going to suck him again, I thought with a little tingle of anticipation. I had no idea how or where, and it occurred to me that his threat was an empty one. He didn't know where I lived so at least I was safe from that. As I drew up to some traffic lights, the phone pinged again.
"10 Acacia Avenue." It read and my stomach turned. That's my address! Fuck! How the hell...?
He was standing on the corner, and jumped in as I pulled up. He directed me to an estate about a mile away.
"Ready for another load?" He said as we snaked through the traffic.
"Yes, Sir," I replied, remembering my place. "May I ask...how you know my address?"
Dom laughed. "You think you and Mike are only cocksuckers at that golf club? Half those faggots are gagging for it. The club secretary hands over anything I want, once I've buried my cock in his holes."
Shit! It dawned on me that I was in trouble. I wasn't surprised that Graham Jones was a cocksucker. He looked the type. But what exactly did Dom mean by 'his holes'?
We pulled up in a side alley. It was empty but I still felt exposed. Anyone could walk around that corner, I thought. Dom had already pulled out his johnson and was giving it a stroke. I looked at it and grinned. Worries about being seen disappeared as he pulled my head down and his stiff pole slid between my lips.
This time it was fast and hard. He pushed down on my head and his cock thrust upwards, choking me. It smelled a bit rank, not that I cared, and tasted different this time, pungent and spicy. I moaned.
"You like that, eh?" he growled. "Fucked some cocksucker's wife last night. She loved it. Didn't have time for a shower this morning."
Jesus! I'm sucking the residue of a woman's pussy, presumably mixed with Dom's stale semen. I know I should have found the idea revolting, but I was loving the depravity of it. I really am a dirty cocksucker, I thought as I slurped on his manhood.