Can Fetishes Be Catching?

Less a story than a report on what could be an adventure or a total disaster.

If male-male action is not your thing, you should choose another selection.

-----

Have you ever been caught off guard by a kink that you never really given much thought before? Well, that's what happened to me.

As is often the case (who am I kidding--pretty much always the case), I was yearning for some cocksucking, swallowing gobs of cum, and lowering my ass onto a nice thick hard cock. The problem was that my two favorite hookups were unavailable--one was away on business, and the other was moving, though fortunately not far away.

Working a realistic dildo in my ass while stroking my hard-on while imagining my last fuck session with Dave did take the edge off somewhat, but I was still horny after I'd scooped up my cum from my belly and cock and brought my fingers to my mouth.

I headed to the computer (still nude, of course, with a nice thick butt plug in my ass) and went to a hookup site that I consider a little sketchy, but I really needed to get my hands on a cock that wasn't my own and eating some ass would be beyond heavenly.

I'd peeked at the site the day before. Among the plethora of cock shots, one had lodged itself in my brain. The thick shaft was topped by an amazing mushroom head that I would love to slide my lips over and grip the ridge tight while I swirled my tongue around the head. Being uncut myself and lacking a mushroom head, encountering one turns me into a salivating cock worshiper. The huge balls also, I knew, would feel so good in my mouth.

Of course, the man to whom the cock was attached was not connected at this time. This appeared not to be my lucky day.

I found some other nice cocks, but the owners were often looking for things that didn't appeal to me or I didn't fit the criteria of muscular, pierced, and tattooed. Glory holes, no thanks. I hoped I wasn't that desperate, but, I guess, if that's your thing, who am I to criticize.

Among this sea of stiff cocks, one encased in a red women's panties grabbed my attention. They weren't the sexiest panties I'd ever seen, but they had some lace and the cock held firmly against his body was visible through the semi-transparent mesh.

I messaged the guy, describing how I'd love to finger and tongue his cock through the mesh and perhaps ease the waist band down a bit to expose his head so I could lick up his precum.

He was a man of few words, but his gave an enthusiastic, though brief, response.

I didn't mention that I'd want to transfer the taste to his lips with my tongue.

The panties belonged to his wife, and, no, she had no idea what he was up to when alone.

When I reflected on this later, I figured that there were two possibilities. One, in better years, she had wanted to feel sexy and turn him on, but her fancy panties were now relegated to a secondary, seldom opened, underwear drawer. She might have moved on to old lady cotton panties with no frills.

Two, maybe she still craved sex, and they had a good sex life. It was interesting to imagine that they had had some great sex the night before his next day time with the panties (which, I assumed, was an activity he indulged in as frequently as possible).

I didn't necessarily think he was showing a feminine side; he was just doing something that excited his cock, gave it a unique stimulation with an added kick of the taboo. I can identify with being hyper-sexed, relishing a great fuck but still craving intense solo stimulation the next day. Who was I to judge. After all, hadn't I experimented, tugging on the chain of paired nipple clamps while stroking off during a Literotica reading session? Wasn't my butt frequently plugged? No matter how often I'm getting great sex, a day seldom goes by when I don't indulge in a nice, long masturbation session.

He was posting on a gay site. Profile said "Bi-Curious." It wasn't clear from his responses how far he had gone. I'm guessing, just testing the waters. Perhaps he sensed, as I once did, that sex with guys would open up a whole new level of intense sensation. I was intrigued by the possibility of showing it can be way beyond what he'd imagined. First timers are a turn-on for me.

Unfortunately, he claimed to have an appointment to get to, so we never got to the point of setting a hookup. I wasn't even sure I wanted one; but it was fun egging him on a bit.

Still, the encounter for some reason got fixed in my brain and imagination, much to my surprise. I'll get to that, let me digress and tell you about how I view my sexuality.

I don't consider myself bisexual because that would suggest I still seek out sex with women. Yeah, I'd been married to a woman, had a couple women who were great in bed. Too much relationship stuff there. That ship has passed for me. If you want to call me gay because I exclusively fuck guys now, I don't mind, but I don't call myself gay. Those I consider gay form loving relationships that can be very deep. That's beautiful and admirable. Some people consider guys like me to be sluts, and I suppose that fits. My body quivers with excitement when I rim someone or feel a tongue probing my anus. I judge guys by the beauty of their cocks, how good they are at fucking my ass, and how they respond to my cock sliding over their prostrate. I don't care about their personalities. If your cock feels good in my ass, I don't care if you are an Asshole. I'll greedily suck your cock, yearning for all the cum you can give me, but I don't care about your thoughts or opinions.

Perfect example--Terry. With his clothes on, he's really a jerk, but his full lips and long tongue give the most amazing blowjobs. When his long fingers slowly work their way past my sphincter, I know an artful prostate massage will have me quivering and jetting my cum into his mouth. And the guy has a cock to die for--seven and half inches, smooth and thick. His shaved pubes make it seem even larger. And that bulbous mushroom head. He has an artful way of easing past my sphincter muscles, holding it there, teasing me before slowly stroking into me. I love the sensation of him slowly pulling back, at the same time hating the emptiness he leaves behind. I moan when he slides back in, filling me. After this goes on for minutes and minutes, I find myself yelling, "Pound me, fuck me, damn it!" I know he has amazing staying power, know that the pounding will go on and on, know that he'll leave me sore, know that I crave the moment when the pounding stops and his quivering cock jets his cum into my rectum.

Jerk that he is, he's apt to get up and get dressed. "Good time," he'll say as he leaves. That's okay, I think, as I lie there totally fucked, feeling empty, cum leaking from my anus. More than okay--actually heavenly.

Of course, there is a lot to be said for fucking friends and some of my best hookups I consider to be good buddies. We have fantastic fuck sessions and enjoy each other's company. But no way am I ever deleting Terry's number from my phone.

So bizarre, isn't it? I have a fantastic sex life. Call me a shallow slut if you want, but why would I be captivated by bi-curious guy in lacy red panties?

I asked him what panties he would like to see me in. Red satin, he said. He was frustratingly terse. Elaborate, Man! He did like that I said we could grind our panty clad cocks against each other. I hoped he had so little to say because he was too busy stroking his cock to type. How would he react if I moved in for a kiss? Would he respond to my darting tongue and let me suck his? How would he react to me tugging on and roughly rubbing his nipples, tonguing them, sucking them?

I found myself perusing sexy women's panties on the internet. I imagined bringing several pairs for him, requesting that he model them for me. While he left the room to try on the first pair, I would drop my pants to reveal my own panty clad hard-on. Definitely a hip hugger style that dipped low enough in the front so that my six inch cock would poke above the waistband. What I lack in length, I make up for in girth. With my pubes shaved, I do think my cock would make a strong impression through semi-transparent fabric.

I'd sit up in a chair, have him come over to me so I could stroke his cock through the fabric, run my tongue up and down his shaft while I'd caress his buttocks. Tell him how good he looks. Ask him to describe how the fabric feels on his cock.

After he'd displayed three or four pairs, I pull out one more surprise--a lacy, sexy minimal thong.

When he brought that over for inspection, I'd use my teeth to pull aside the flimsy material and release his cock. My fingers would push aside the fabric taut in his crack. How would he respond to my finger tip caressing his anal bud and my tongue licking up the pre-cum on the head of his cock?

I'm betting he might let out a moan, but I wouldn't press the issue. Just file it away for future reference. I'd stand so I could grind my cock against his, then step back and bring his hand to my cock.

"Go ahead, stroke it. Do you want to suck it, or do you want me to suck yours?

I don't know. Maybe it's the uncertainty of what would happen, how it would go that is such a turn on.

That's sounds like a clever analysis, doesn't it? Not fooling you, am I? I'm betting those panties would make me feel really sexy, look really sex, and feel so good on hard cock.

Panty man hasn't shown up on the sight since Monday. Maybe it's his day off. I'll be looking for him then.

Guess it's time to shop for a nice set of panties (great that they come in sets of four or five)--definitely sexier ones than Panty Man's wife's.

I'll let you know how it turns out.