I'm not much into the bar scene, especially in Vegas-- too many phonies. Besides, in a bar you can end up spending a lot of money on booze, and not even get any sex. Usually I prefer to go someplace where I know I'm going to get some. But for some reason I decided to go to the local leather bar-- more wannabes than real outlaws-- for their Sunday afternoon beer blast. Hey, five bucks-- it's a cheap drunk.
I had been there only a few minutes before I laid eyes on the man who was going to change my life forever. He was dressed all in black leather, his jacket open to reveal a brawny, hairy chest. His face wasn't exactly handsome-- most people would probably describe it as "rough" and "coarse"-- but it radiated a vitality and energy I found utterly magnetic. He was a very large man, too, in more ways than one. Myself, I'm a little over six feet tall and about 220 pounds. He was one of the few people who make me feel small-- at least 6'6", over 250 pounds, very beefy and chunky, but not fat-- just the sort of man I swoon over. A tattoed snake wound around his left arm.
I tried to avoid staring at him, but I just couldn't help myself. I was like a deer transfixed by the headlights of an automobile. It was as if everyone else in the room had disappeared, and there was only him and me. I just knew he had a huge cock. Not that I could see it, or that he was wearing really tight jeans and I could see a telltale bulge. Nothing like that. He just had that air about him of a man with a very large penis.
He must have noticed how stricken I was at the sight of him, because very soon he grinned and then strode over to me purposefully.
"Hey, baby," he said, smiling broadly, "you wanna suck my cock?"
I was both taken aback and turned on by his crudeness and directness. "Yeah, sure, I'd love to," I said faintly.
"Good. 'Cause the moment I set eyes on you, I wanted to stick my dick in your mouth."
He took me by the hand and led me into a dark recess in the back of the bar. He sat down on a ledge and opened his fly, pulling out-- well, not the biggest cock I've ever seen, 'cause I've seen (and sucked on) some whoppers, but one of the biggest-- a foot long if it was an inch, and thick too. It was certainly more than big enough for any normal purpose and quite a few abnormal ones. The metal cockring at the base made his balls poof out adorably. My knees hit the floor with record speed.
With feelings approaching awe and reverence, I wrapped one hand around his massive member and began devoutly licking and kissing around the tip of his dick. Why worship an abstract intangible God you can't see, when you can worship a God you can see, and hear and smell and touch and, most importantly, taste? I'm an empiricist, myself.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I like that." Almost gently, he reached out and placed my other hand on his balls, which I then cupped fervently.
He put his hand on the top of my head. "Time to stop teasin' and start pleasin', pussy boy. In other words, suck my cock." He pushed my head down, but he really didn't have to push too hard, as my mouth engulfed him eagerly. His roughness turned to tenderness as he stroked my hair while I sucked.
"Oh yeah, you do that nicely, baby," he said. "How'd you get to be such a good cocksucker, huh? You've sucked a lot of dicks, haven't you?"
Normally, I would be offended by someone I'd just met saying that to me, but coming from him, I didn't mind at all-- in fact, I liked it. There was something about the way he enjoyed and approved of, rather than censuring, my sluttiness.
"O yeah, baby," I answered, "I've sucked a lot of cocks, but--"
"But what?" he prompted.
"Not enough. Not nearly enough."
"That's the spirit," he said, as my lips slid back down over his cock. I could see and feel (with my tongue) the cock ring at the base of the shaft. From experience, I knew that really big dicks like his took a long time to suck off, even longer with a cock ring on. It would take forever to get this stud of with my mouth (and hands), maybe hours. But I sure wanted to try.
He leaned back for a while and let me do my thing. Then he reached down and ran his fingers through my hair."
"Look at me, baby," he said softly. "Yeah, look at me while you suck my cock. You're a nasty little pussy boy, aren't you?"
"I try my best to be, yes," I replied, licking the underside of the head of his dick.
He pushed my head back down on his cock. "Gag yourself, bitch! Show me how far down you can go. . . I wanna know how far I can shove my dick down your throat when I really get going . . . Not bad, almost all the way . . . Yeah, I'm a considerate mouthfucker, baby-- I give you all you can take, but no more . . ."
"I do appreciate that," I said.
"Yeah, I bet you do. Let me guess-- you can't take it down into your throat, you gag and throw up. And you don't take it in the ass, either, do you?" That's why you're so bitchy and depressed all the time-- you need a good ass-reamin' and you're not gettin' it."
I slid his dick out of my mouth and rubbed it against my cheek. "You seem to know me awful well, for someone who just met me."
He laughed. "Yeah, I know you, baby-- I know you very well. In some ways I probably know you better than you know yourself. You see, I used to be a lot like you-- a long time ago."
He grabbed me by the hair and pushed me down on his dick. "Poor little queer boy. You work in an office with a bunch of squares you don't like. You try and try, but no matter what you do, you just can't fit in. They can sense that you're different-- and I'm not just talkin' about being gay, either. You're just not one of them."
"How true, how true!" I exclaimed. "How could you know all this?"
He really guffawed then. "Well, I can tell you've never done a lick of real work in your life, pussy boy"-- he grabbed a hand and turned it palm up-- "look at that hand, all smooth and soft like a woman's-- a real cocksucker's hands . . . What's your name, baby?"
"Steve," I mumbled.
