Lonely Heart Seeks New Man

I told myself "This ends tonight" I've waited 3 weeks for a response to my text message. I've stayed off the Internet, out of chat rooms, off porn sites. I checked my phone every time it chirped or vibrated, hoping it would be a response to my text: "Thank you for a wonderful afternoon. I look forward to seeing you soon."

I was disappointed every time I checked my phone. No text message. I checked email. No email. So tonight, I log back on to the Internet and look for him. Maybe he's in the chat room where we met many months ago. As I open a private browser window and type in the web address I feel the blood flowing to my cock. Anticipation can be a stimulant. So can memory. I avoided the Internet for weeks, but I wasn't dormant. Memories of our meeting distracted me from simple tasks at work. Remembering his power over me should have filled me with shame but when I remembered the taste of his urine and cum, the strength in his arms and legs, his unblinking eyes when he commanded me...well I didn't feel shame. I had to find a private space where I could jerk off wishing it was his cock in my hands. And when I came I would lick my load from my fingers and pretend it was his.

I find the chatroom: Male4Male. I enter the lobby and see many of the same names. Men I've chatted with but never met. There were also some new members in the room. I'm greeted by a regular.

CladInArmor: Irish! Long time. Where have you been?

Irish: Here and there. Just taking some time away from diversions like this.

CladInArmor: Welcome back. Play nice.

Irish: You know me, I'm always nice. Probably too nice.

I scroll down the list of people in the room. He's not there. Blood is leaving my dick so fast I feel it shrinking and taking refuge someplace inside my gut. My balls have dissolved. There is a vacuum where my heart should be. The air is being sucked from my lungs. I don't know if I feel like crying because I'm angry or broken hearted. Well, there it is. He humiliated me. He lured me to a meeting without telling me he was a dom, and when he had me alone he had complete control of me within minutes.

I hadn't met him to get pissed on or humiliated into drinking his piss and swallowing his cum after he force fed his cock. I met him because he had been charming and funny in the chat room, and he shared pictures of his cock, and it was everything advertised. Long, thick, hard and tasty. Full disclosure: even as he forced his cock in my mouth I took it hungrily and carefully. He was rough, and I could have bit him but I didn't. After I did everything he instructed, after he came, he changed into a very gentle, tender man. I thought we had something. I guess I was wrong.

What I need now is to get back on track. If I'm going to meet someone it will be for mutual pleasure as equals. Top, bottom, versatile. Tonight I am determined to meet a guy who just wants to have fun.

My introspection is interrupted.

GoalieX sends me a private message.

GoalieX: Hi Irish. How's your evening?

Irish: Doing well. Just seeing who is hanging out here. How are you?

GoalieX: Horny as fuck. But that would have been my answer yesterday, and will be my answer tomorrow.

Irish: I think there's a support group for that.

GoalieX: Yeah, it's this chat room. I haven't met anyone willing to help me. I should stop coming here.

Irish: What kind of help do you need? I'm kind of an expert at this.

GoalieX: Your profile says you're a versatile bottom. I'm vers top. It could work. But you are a few years older than me. You probably couldn't keep up with me.

Irish: You'd be surprised. Plus I have pills just in case.

GoalieX: Yeah, sounds like a match, but I'm a bit of a control freak.

Irish: Meaning what?

Now my cock is back where it belongs. My balls have returned from whichever dimension they'd transported to when the wind left my lungs. And my tears of anger or sadness have dried up. I shouldn't feel excitement, but the thought that there's another guy who might...how shall I put this...exert control when we meet is making me horny. And I didn't take a pill.

GoalieX: Control freak here. I like to direct what happens.

Irish: I aim to please. I don't mind a little help. Lick me here. Kiss me there. I can do that.

GoalieX: You're missing the point.

Irish: And that is?

GoalieX: I will control you.

I'm on autopilot. My cock is in my hand. I don't recall unzipping and pulling it out. I'm stroking with my left hand and trying to type with my right hand.

Irish: To what end?

GoalieX: To your end up and my cock pounding it. It's getting to that you might not handle. I can get rough. I demand obedience.

I'm licking precum off my fingers. It makes me harder. I don't respond for a few minutes.

Irish: I can do that.

GoalieX: You hesitated.

Irish: I'm jerking off.

GoalieX: Why don't you save that load and come over. I always make sure my partners cum. More than once if you stay long enough.

Here are the phases of physically meeting someone you've been chatting with online. Phase one: make contact in a chatroom and develop rapport. Phase two: Plan to meet once you know you're a match. Phase three: Determine the meeting place; with luck he can host and then you're golden. Phase four: Set out for your meeting. Phase five: While driving, talk yourself out of the meeting because a) it's not safe to have sex with stranger, b) he might be a crazy person; c) you know you'll spin into a guilt spiral afterward, convincing yourself you have betrayed everyone you love and know beginning with your wife (who has no idea you're bisexual, and would probably go insane if she knew about your bisexuality even though you haven't had sex together in years, which is not to say you don't love each other), your kids, your family, your friends and coworkers, and your dog. Phase six: You reach the location and try one more time to talk yourself out of this before you find yourself walking quickly to the door of the house or apartment with your face down avoiding cameras or people. Phase seven: Enter and enjoy the moment, ignoring the guilt spiral waiting for you after the meeting.

This night, this moment, feeling used by the owner of my lonely heart, I resolve to recover and bounce back in the most absurd way possible: meet another dominant male who will humiliate me before we both cum.

Irish: You can host?

GoalieX: Yes.

Irish: What's your address?

Signing off, entering his address into my phone, I head out. Wife is out tonight with her sister. I won't be missed. GoalieX lives 20 minutes away in a suburb further west of home. The night is cool. Window down, air whipping in the car, classic rock radio playing a song so familiar it is forgettable. I switch over to the jazz station. While the drummer lays down a syncopated beat the bass and piano go crazy. He liked jazz. I recall he told me the second or third time we chatted. He didn't play any music when we met in the empty house and he made me strip naked and kneel in the shower stall. He took ownership of me, of my body. He was specific about what he owned. My mouth and my ass, which he called my holes. He owns my cock. He owns everything. He owns my soul. Is he the devil? Am I about to betray him? How will he punish me if he finds out?

I'm driving to a strange location, taking directions from the map app. Am I so weak that I need an app to tell me where to go? Will the app tell him where I went, what I did? What if I never see him again? He owns my holes and one or both is about to be violated by another man. He told me that is not allowed. I shouldn't do this. I should stop. I should go home. But I have just pulled up and parked in front of GoalieX's apartment building. I close the windows and turn off the engine but leave the key in the ignition. I look up at the building. He's on the third floor, probably waiting to greet me, naked, dick hard and ready.

I'm not ready. I pull up the chat room on my phone's browser and see GoalieX is still in the room. I send him a pm: Hey, I'm sorry. My wife came home early and I'm stuck now.

GoalieX: You're a pussy. You're a prick teaser. You're a scared little bitch.

Irish: That's all true. But my wife is in the next room and I can't leave. I missed the window of opportunity.

GoalieX: Fuck off.

He blocks me. I can't respond. I don't care. My dick and balls retreat into my chest cavity. I have no trouble breathing but my hand shakes as I start the engine. I pull into traffic and away from GoalieX's neighborhood. I lower the windows and let the air revive my shattered nerves, convinced I have made the right choice. Sex with men is bad, sex with strange men is worse. I won't have sex with men anymore. I won't have sex at all. I will not put myself into any situation that makes me feel like a tool, like someone's toy to be used and abused the ignored and rejected. I'm better off alone. I can always jerk off to porn. I should stop and buy some lube on the way home.

I detour and stop at a 24 hour adult book store. I have a minute of doubt and hesitation, again worried about being seen, but I leave my car and walk through the windowless metal door. The smell of spunk and Pinesol fill me with comfort. I make sure I have cash to pay for the lube. I look at the door that leads to the private booths. I've been back there. There's always a few hustlers hanging out looking for action. Some of the booths have a glory hole connecting to the next one. I've never done that. I don't think I can coax my cock out of its hiding place, so I buy a rubber cock ring and lube. I leave the shop.

In the car I stash the bag under my seat. As I start the car my phone chirps. There's a text message. It's him. It can't be. It's him. I look around outside, craning my neck left, right and behind to see if he's out there. I don't see him. I read the text. His words return my cock and balls to their normal location. In fact, my cock feels bigger. I think it's going to continue growing.

"You passed the test. You listened and learned when I said you belong to me. I'll contact you next week. Until then DO NOT DISOBEY ME! Do not call me. Do not text me. Stay off the Internet. I will contact you. Then you will come, I will cum and you will cum. Be a good boy. Go home, beat off and think of me."