"I want you to come over here and suck my dick." Tony's voice, even across the phone lines, had an air of authority.
My hands and feet got cold and my stomach and chest got tight. I could feel my heart beating. I was alone in my apartment on a lazy Saturday morning in October. My wife had driven up to North Carolina to visit her mother and sister over her fall break. I was on a different schedule from her, being in graduate school, and I had stayed behind. I was in my late twenties, and life had taken a turn toward the interesting a few months earlier.
"I don't do that," I managed to croak.
"You do now."
My palms began to sweat. "I don't think I can do that."
"Yes, you can."
I didn't reply.
"Let me put it this way. Do you want me to keep fucking your wife?"
Now my chest was really tight. I began to feel weak in my legs.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Then come over here and suck my dick."
I had to sit down. This was not a situation I'd anticipated.
"Are you hard?" he asked.
I realized I was semi-erect, which surprised me. I had never been interested in doing anything with another man. But when he brought my wife into the mix, it changed the dynamic considerably.
"Yes," I breathed.
"I figured as much." He wasn't cruel, just matter of fact. "If you do a good job, I'll let you look at some of the pictures I took of Janie. You'll like them a lot."
I didn't say anything, but I felt my erection press harder against my jeans.
He gave me directions without asking again if I was going to come over. He knew I would.
***
I tried to read. I tried to take a nap. But all I could do was watch the clock. Tony had a naturally dominant personality; I was naturally submissive. I didn't have those two words -- dominant, submissive -- back then. But I sensed it. He had a powerful presence. His voice resonated within you. It was almost as though he was bigger than life.
The entire time I kept thinking about how large Janie said he was. She had been with one well-endowed man during an affair earlier in our marriage. She said Tony was much larger than that guy. My cock got hard as I thought about tall, fit Tony thrusting inside my 5' 2" wife, and then it softened when I thought of putting him in my mouth. This cycle repeated until about four o'clock when I finally decided to take a shower.
I was ready to go well before five. Tony was expecting me at six. I left the apartment and walked slowly through the golden brown leaves to my car. The married student housing complex was deserted. I was glad. If anyone had asked me where I was headed, I might have lost it. When I got in my car, five minutes had passed. I had fifty-five minutes to go ten miles.
Tony's directions were easy to follow. He lived in a nice middle-class neighborhood with lots of family vans and sedans in the driveways. My four inch cock pushed hard against my seat belt when I realized my wife had driven this car down this street a couple of dozen times on her way to be fucked by him. I drove past his house and back out to the main road to waste some time. I turned the radio to NPR. I almost topped off the tank but I suddenly decided I didn't want to have the smell of gasoline on me when I got to Tony's place. That didn't strike me as peculiar at the time, although it did years later when I was thinking about the entire experience.
Garrison Keillor finished his Lake Wobegone monologue, and there were still ten minutes to burn. I felt it was important to arrive exactly at six, because that was the time he specified. He affected me that way. I pulled up into his driveway and listened to a bit more of the Prairie Home Companion. I got out of the car at 5:58, and tapped on the door of his house at exactly six.
Tony opened the door wearing a faded tank top. and nylon gym shorts. He towered over my 5'6" body. His shoulders were broad; his arms were muscular. He had a full head of wavy blonde hair like a surfer god. He was a little red from the sun and had a day's growth of beard on his strong chin. I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with him, so I looked past him at the sparsely furnished living room. Tan carpet, tan walls, tan sofa, tan chair and ottoman. A nondescript coffee table with sports magazines and a couple of empty diet soda cans.
"Come on in," he said. "I'm going to take a shower. Have a seat over there." He nodded at the sofa. I couldn't speak, so I just shuffled awkwardly past him and sat down on the sofa's edge. I put my elbows on my knees and intertwined my fingers in front of me. I hoped that would hide the fact that I was shaking.
Now I could see a prefab computer desk, the kind you put together yourself. His computer was on and the AOL connect screen was up. A box of 3.5 diskettes was spilled over on the shelf above the monitor. On the wall opposite me was a television on a milk crate. A cable box on top of it was half covered by an HBO guide.
"I'll be right back." He walked down a hallway and I heard water start. A door shut, then the shower turned on. I wondered if my wife had used that shower after one of their dates. She had never slept over, but she had stayed well into the morning hours on quite a few occasions. I wondered if they had showered together.
I don't think I moved the entire twenty minutes he was in the back of the house.
He came out wearing a clean t-shirt and a pair of baggy khaki shorts. "It's funny seeing that car in the driveway without Janie being here," he chuckled. "She makes that sofa you're on look mighty good when she's laying on it naked. I've fucked the hell out of your wife on that sofa."
I tried to smile, but I think it was more of a grimace. Janie didn't like to be around our apartment naked. The thought of her walking around naked for him, fucking him wherever, whenever, made me squirm in place. He knew that was the kind of thing I liked to hear.
"Do you want to look at some pics I have on the computer? To get into the mood?" he asked.
"No, I'm good." I still hadn't moved.
He nodded, then sat down in front of the computer. He clicked the mouse a couple of times and brought up some jpegs. "This is what I like to look at," he said with a disturbing amount of gusto. "Women sucking cocks."
He clicked through a few images and made some commentary on a few of them. "Your wife is as hot as any of these women. Hotter, because she's just so damn horny, you know?"
I nodded. I did know.
"Come over here, Jim."
I almost fell as I stood up.
"Kneel on the floor right here beside me."
I shuffled numbly over and knelt next to his computer chair. Now there was no hiding the fact that I was trembling.
"Look at that..." He brought up another picture of a porn star with obviously fake breasts holding a huge cock in her hand. Her expression was supposed to be one of surprise, but the garish makeup gave her a clownlike look that ruined the effect.
"Put your hand right here," he told me. I moved my hand toward the front of his shorts. He took my cold, trembling hand in his. His hand was huge and hot. He pressed my hand against his crotch and rubbed it back and forth. "Can you feel that?"
I tried to answer, but I just coughed instead. He was very thick. "Keep doing that." I silently obeyed. It was my first time to touch another man like that. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't have done it. He looked at some more pictures and I felt his cock untwist and lengthen as I rubbed.
"Okay, enough of that." He closed the pic and stood. He walked over to the tan chair and pushed the ottoman out of the way. "Now it's time to get down to business, Jimmy." I hated being called Jimmy. He had no way of knowing that unless Janie told him.
"Kneel down here, Jimmy, in front of my chair. I want you to undo my shorts." I fumbled with the button and the zipper. My heart was pounding and my head was starting to spin.
