Paul's Confession to a Stranger

Sitting just under the bridge in his tired second hand car with the heating on he knew that he would not get out into the cold. Far less would he walk along the pathway beside the road over the mile long bridge. Much less again would he have the guts, because that was what he told him was stopping himself, would he be able to jump into the freezing January river two hundred feet below.

He saw the various numbers posted, in lighting, next to the pedestrian access for those who were thinking the unthinkable. Looking at the freephone number, suicide prevention, he called. More as a distraction from himself than for any real hope for peace.

Mark answered. He introduced himself, in a calm, soft, even caring perhaps, voice. The first words came easy to Paul and he started to talk. Looking down to the dashboard of his car, he noticed that it was gone midnight, and realised that he had spoken non-stop for around two hours.

He has explained everything. His loneliness, his lack of fufillment, his sense of never being able to be happy, financial worries, lack of relationship and his hidden sexual needs that he could tell no one about. He felt better, smiling to himself, as he realised he had openly spoken about bisexuality to another man for the first time in his life. He felt elated, though absentmindedly touching himself - aroused, and ashamed at the same time.

Still it came as a bigger surprise when Mark offered to exchange personal numbers - but in his state of euphoria and release from his inner burdens he did not hesitate and verbally confirmed his number to Mark.

The next day, back at work again, the gruellingly lonely weekend over yet again, he was absorbed in the code of the latest client website when his phone went. It was easy for the smile to come when he saw who the text was from and even easier to confirm, via text, that yes it was OK for him to be contact directly. He even thanked Mark again for his patience and caring words last night.

It was not long, reflection makes everything look clear, though before the texts changed. Though it was after Paul has shared more of his life. Where he worked, what he did for a living and, he did think it strange at the time, the car and street he lived in. The growing sense of unease, though still tainted with the hope that he had someone he could share with, was confirmed when Mark asked him to send a pic of himself. He definitely knew, even when he sent it, that it was just all wrong then but he sent it all the same.

Then knowing he realised, in a fit of self-protection, he knew nothing about Mark except for the fact he manned a suicide line. At the time Paul did not realise the charity providing such services had been closed and, the number, had been taken over by Mark. The unease became downright anxiety, even fear creeping in a little, when Mark sent him a summary of everything he had told him last night and the details of his life as it was today.

Very detailed and very precise in it's focus on Paul's shame and bisexuality. He realied he was now uncomfortable - the tone was definitely more predatory than compassionate now - and he told Mark he did not want to speak anyone, via text, and told him goodbye.

The first demand was quick to arrive. A simple enough demand but it was clear it was a demand from the tone, with the threat unstated perhaps, he was to provide his address to Mark or his colleagues would have a full transcript of his full confession about his life and his bisexual needs.

Paul, sensing the inevitable and, admittedly curious even now, he gave Mark his address. This was then followed up by accepting that it was OK for Mark to come to his house that evening, under threat of his confession being public knowledge to his work colleagues. Never having had the slightest experience with another man he knew, even though it was definitely under coercion, what Mark wanted by then. At least he thought he knew.

When he opened his door to Mark at 8pm that night he discovered a far younger man than he expected. At 35 years old Paul had expected Mark, with his calm compassionate wisdom to be in his 50s at least. He did not expect the six foot two, slim, obviously fit in tracksuit, young fresh faced man to be at his door. He was quick to learn the young man was not Mark - but had been send by Mark off an app and he had been promised oral sex.

The young man had not hesitated or waited for a reply as he stepped inside Paul's house and closed the door behind himself. Paul, his timid nature not strong enough to say anything or block the young man, found himself staring at the man as he pulled down his tracksuit in his hallway. Seeing his first cock, not his own, so suddenly was a shock. Finding the arm on his shoulder pushing him, with some urgency to his knees, and the assumption of a willing mouth there was no hesitation from the young stranger.

Having been told to keep his hands by his side Paul has his first brutal introduction to oral sex. Face fucking was more appropriate and with threatening language and assertive confidence Paul found himself pushed against the walls of his hallway as he was face fucked. Tears came quickly as the attempt to push his assailant away was met with extreme threats and a cock urgently forcing its way into his throat.

It was not a long process and before long, even though detached now from the experience, he realised that he was about to swallow another man's sperm. He swallowed as best he could but it was obvious that the young man wanted some on his face and so he finished his ejaculation on his face.

The door closed as Paul, tears running down his face, sat in his hallway in shock.

Marks repeated texts interrupted his trauma to highlight that another young man was on his way.