Chatter

!_f29ownMyBf: Hey guys! Anyone in East London?

At the sight of a female chatter, half a dozen guys in the supposedly gay chat room almost immediately PM'd Sam. She had to spend a little time on each one to figure out whether or not he was the right candidate. She had something very specific in mind.

m44hardBull: Hiya babe. What r u into?

!_f29ownMyBf: I'm looking for someone to fuck my boyfriend.

m44hardBull: lol he know about it?

!_f29ownMyBf: Not yet ;)

m44hardBull: lol i'll lick your pussy good. fuck you while he watches.

!_f29ownMyBf: I'm not on the table - just my boyfriend

m44hardBull: maybe I fuck you both. fuck u good.

Click. Banned. She wasn't looking for someone to 'fuck her good'. And she needed to know the person on the other end was serious. She was laying her plans and needed a conspirator. For months, the idea had been germinating in her mind. Evolving slowly since she'd first come home to discover the unexpected entries in the history log of her laptop: Allboner.com; Gaymaletube.com; Skeezy.com... Michael had stayed over and left after she'd gone to work. Clearly he'd had some leisure time to kill, and she wasn't surprised that he'd used her laptop to surf porn, but what had thrown her for a loop was the fact that he'd been cruising gay sites. He was so masculine. At five foot, nine inches and a hundred and forty pounds, he wasn't a mountain, but he could easily take care of himself, and he had been the sort of swaggering, strip-club-going single guy that she normally would have steered clear of, but he was a charmer.

They'd met at university, and once he'd set his sights on her, he had been relentless. She hadn't even tried to resist - he had swept in with a magnetism and a charisma that had erased any doubts she might have had, and they had started what would turn out to be, two years later, a tumultuous relationship. At first everything had been great - when he was with her he was sensitive, attentive, and the sex had been very good, owing chiefly to the oral he had lavished on her at every opportunity. He didn't have a large manhood, but it didn't bother her at first. As time had gone by, the oral had become more infrequent and the day-to-day interactions had lost a lot of their shimmer. It wasn't a bad relationship, she mused, the new had just worn off. But she had become aware of things she hadn't noticed at first. He was a bit lazy, and his macho thing bothered her a little bit.

The first time she'd noticed, they had been hanging out with some friends of his from work. He worked as a contractor for a property holding company and it was a real boys club full of sexist homophobes, and Michael apparently led the pack when it came to that stuff. On this occasion, they had been at Jacko's - a sports bar they favoured. There was a table close-by with two youngish guys who were almost certainly gay, and it was just one joke after another at their expense. It was a pretty good bet the two guys heard, or at least knew what was up, because they got up and left fairly quickly, but that didn't stop all the 'homo' and 'cock-sucking' jokes, and Sam was actually a little shocked by how much of the charge Michael seemed to be leading. Afterwards, in the car, she'd asked him about it.

"Aww, honey," he'd said, "they were just a couple'a fags. What are you worried about?"

Exasperated, she'd told him she didn't like to hear him making fun of people, "It's like you're a teenager," she's said, "It's not attractive at all."

"Aww, come-on, baby... It was just a little fun..."

"I don't think it's fun," she'd ended the conversation.

"Well how 'bout if I don't give a fuck," he'd asked her obstinately. They had spent the rest of the ride home in stony silence, and that night she'd ignored his fairly obvious ploys to bed her and gone home. It was just one conversation, but his callousness had bothered her, and some of the things he'd been saying had been really hateful. They had made up the next day - he'd been especially sweet and done the whole man-penance thing; even gotten her flowers, and she'd relented, but after that she'd really noticed all the little remarks and off-colour comments. In time, she'd just sort of come to accept it - even if she didn't like it, Michael was a nice guy, but a bit of a homophobe, and that was that.

When she noticed the man-on-man websites in her history, she'd really hit the roof. It wasn't the fact that he was looking at that stuff that bothered her (if she was honest, the thought of two men together had always turned her on a little bit); it was the fact that he was such a fucking hypocrite. It wasn't just fucking either, it was full-on kinky shit! Men forced to suck cock, men getting spanked and used in gangbangs, men getting fingered in their sleep... He was evidently something of a connoisseur. She'd decided to test the waters a little and find out the score. When he came home that night, she'd gone to lengths to look extra sexy - push-up bra; plunge halter, micro thong, lo-rise jeans, fresh shave, the whole nine yards; she'd even done her hair. She looked amazing.

He walked in the door to find her waiting with two whiskey sours and, no sooner had he sat down on the couch than he had one of them in his hand and she was on her knees in front of him; unzipping his fly and looking up at him with big doe eyes while her hand snaked into his boxers and slithered around his mostly flaccid cock.

"Hey baby," she'd said toyingly.

"Wow," was all he could manage, swallowing a mouthful of the sweet, sour drink. "What's all this for?"

"Never mind, baby," she'd said as she began slowly jacking him off, "I just figured you might could use a little... relief."

He took another swallow of the thick liquor drink and she pulled her hand out, spat lasciviously into her palm, and then wrapped her slippery fingers back around his now proud erection.

"That's a good boy," she teased, "getting' all hard for mama." He grunted and she put her free hand up against his chest, pushing him back into a reclining position on the couch; nudging his drink to his lips. He swallowed down another mouthful and, when his drink was empty, she replaced it with hers. "There's my good, good boy," she praised him as he took more of his drink, "my big, strong boy with his big, strong penis. Does that feel good, baby?" When he just moaned a little she had gripped it a little harder. "Does that feel good? Do you like it?"

"Mmm yeah," he'd answered, "Feels good..."

"Does it? Does it feel good," she asked as she spat in her hand again and jacked him off faster, "You like it when I touch your penis, huh, baby? You like it, baby? Huh? Like your penis?"

He was delirious with pleasure, what was left of her drink resting on the table next to the couch. She picked it up and guided it to his lips, tipping it gently into his mouth as he swallowed.

"You like your penis, huh? Does my big man like his penis?" She gripped it hard again. "Do you?"

"Yes, please," he moaned, his words slurring a bit, "don' stop..."

"You like it, huh? Yes you do! Yes you do! My big man likes it, yes he does!"

He was getting pretty drunk. She had the whiskey bottle next to her and she topped up the drink a little, tipping more of it into his mouth.

"You like cock, baby? Hmm? Does my big strong baby like cock? Does he?" "Mmm..." She wasn't sure if he understood her or not.

"Does he want cock?" She withdrew her hand, slowly replacing it with his own. "Play with it for me, baby." He started jacking himself off. "Play with it and you can think about cock. It's okay, baby. You wanna see my titties, baby?" He was just jacking away, lost in some whiskey-soaked fantasy, "You don't wanna see my titties, huh? You don't care about a girl's titties, huh? You want cock. Yes you do! You know you do! Yes!" She continued to praise him and condescend to him while he stroked himself furiously. "Play with it for me baby. I want you to play with it and think about a big, hard-"

She didn't even finish the sentence. He was spurting sticky strings of white cum onto his still-buttoned shirt. He'd be pissed about that in the morning.

"Oh, baby," she'd praised, eyes wide with mock surprise, "Wow! My big boy's made a mess, huh?" She'd gotten up to go and get some toilet paper for him to clean up with, but when she'd got back, he had been asleep, his drink spilt and his pants soaked. She'd looked at him sitting there covered in cum and whiskey and decided to just let him sleep in it. She went, took a shower, and went to bed and fingered herself until she came like a thunder clap and then fell almost immediately asleep, dreaming of Michael sucking cock.