I sighed in resignation. At 35 there had to be more to life than work. Work and a marriage that was seemingly headed for the rocks.
I'd been married to Cindy for nearly ten years. Ten fucking years of disappointment. It wasn't just me who was despondent. It was my wife. Our sex life was in the crapper although it had never really flourished. I'm not what you'd call a stud. My penis is small. Hell, all of me is small except for my bottom.
Women would love to have an ass like mine. Round and firm, it attracts men who like little guys like me. As I was boarding the bus for work one day a woman actually made the remark, "that ass should have back-up lights and a beeper with it." The folks who heard her laughed. I turned crimson but held my tongue. And I can't count the many times I felt a hand on my butt, pinching, caressing, or just squeezing to look up and around into the eyes of a large smiling man.
What at first bothered me became sort of the norm. Ass grabbing men on the way to work and on the way home. Sometimes I hated it, other times, not so much.
As the years passed I went from wishing it wouldn't happen to missing it when it didn't.
The hands on my ass were sexual in nature. It dawned on me that I was getting more physical attention from those guys on the bus than I was getting at home. Not to say I was ever tempted. I wasn't. But the butterflies I felt in my tummy when a gentleman would fondle me did make me curious. I admit it. So what? I mean who of you readers hasn't imagined what it would be like to actually suck a cock? I know. Society and the "norms" prevent us from exploring something that could be fulfilling.
Now many of you same readers may be thinking that since I ride the bus to work, I must have a low paying job of some sort. Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact of the matter is that Cindy and I live in a condo in the city. It came with a single parking spot. We own a new Porsche Cyanne but elected not to buy another parking spot nor another vehicle. Cindy insists I let her use the car while I take public transportation.
No, she doesn't use the car for work. She has no job. Cindy likes to shop or spend time with her girlfriends. That was probably the allure that led her to marry me.
About my wife. I married outside of my status. Cindy is 5'10" tall with platinum blonde hair and almond eyes. She is built very nicely with 34 C breasts, a waist as narrow as mine and a bottom to die for. When we posed for our wedding pictures my head barely reached her shoulders, her heels were that high. Then again, I'm nearly 5" shorter than she is in our stocking feet.
My mother and father weren't at my wedding. My biological father had disappeared when I was new in the womb. I have never met him, never heard from him, don't know a thing about him. I did have a long string of uncles my mother entertained. White, black, Asian, Latino, mother had diverse tastes.
Many mornings I'd be getting ready for school and watch mom usher one of my uncles out the door and off to his job.
When I turned 18 mom ran off with one of my black uncles and I haven't heard from her since. The note she left wished me good luck and maybe it wasn't too late for her to have a real son instead of an effeminate midget like me.
To set the record straight, I am 5'5" tall. That does not qualify me as a midget or little person. Okay damn you. I guess I am a little person.
Anyway......
Cindy's parents were in attendance. She and her mother could have been sisters. Both women are beautiful. Her father was well built, handsome, and successful. Self-made, he had risen from impoverished beginnings to head his own import company. He lavished his wife and recommended I do the same with Cindy. "They're two of a kind, johnnie. Buyer beware," he warned somewhat kiddingly.
He was right.
Our home life wasn't what one would say was ideal from the start. Cindy liked socializing and hanging with her lady friends. She'd come home at all hours of the night unless she called or texted me that she was too drunk to drive and would stay with one of her girlfriends.
I preferred her texting rather than calling as I would most of the time be asleep.
On those nights when she did come home, she'd be a mess. Make-up smeared, clothing wrinkled, hair mussed up, and horny. I have no clue as to when she removed her panties but she would hike her skirt up or pull her slacks off and squat over my face allowing me the privilege of eating her to multiple orgasms.
I have to say that drinking did not fully agree with her. Besides becoming bossy and demanding, alcohol made her pussy viscous. On those days when she didn't go out and I'd do my husbandly duty by providing oral sex. Her pussy would be moist and I'd have to lick her for 20 - 30 minutes before she got half as wet and the consistency was never nearly as thick as when she'd come home from being out drinking.
I mention oral sex with my wife because after our honeymoon she flatly denied me penile penetration. I understood. I told you I was lacking in the dick department. I would satisfy my wife with my mouth and she would sometimes jerk me off. Jerk is the best way to describe it because there was no tenderness in her handling my privates. The only tenderness involved was my penis and balls after Cindy manhandled me to a quick climax. It got so rough that I declined to let her touch me down there.
I know what you're thinking. She's out fucking someone. You may be right. I've suspected as much. But as I've said, I married outside of my station, my status, I'm a dud in bed. Cindy has her needs and as long as they're met, she's happy. Maybe not happy with me but not bitching at least.
One day I'm on the bus to work and it was standing room only as usual. I felt the familiar hand on my bottom. I learned long ago not to fight it and just let whomever it was to keep squeezing. Suddenly a finger had worked its way between my buttocks and was probing my anus. "Ever been fucked,?" the stranger asked, whispering in my ear.
I squealed a high-pitched note and turned to face my assailant. "No sir," I said looking up into the eyes of a very nice-looking and very young black gentleman. "Only at birth."
"Shame baby. That nice fat ass would love a big black cock."
I didn't know if others on the bus heard me squeal or knew what was going on. My gentleman friend took my hand and placed it on the front of his trousers. "Feel that baby. See what you doing to daddy?"
I pulled my hand away and hurried to get off at the next stop regardless of where it dropped me. I was flustered. Ass grabbing is one thing and I was used to it, but to place my hand on his wonderfully large cock was completely different.
I realized I had an erection as I looked at my surroundings and turned in the direction of my office and walked the rest of the way to work.
All day and the ride home my head was filled with the memory of my hand on his cock. Like an earworm, a song that plays over and over in your head that you are unable to rid yourself of, that incident played out in my mind over and over.
I'm not gay, never had those kinds of thoughts. Not that there's anything wrong with it. But my mind was working overtime on things I never considered before. I must admit I masturbated that night while Cindy was out with her friends.
That was the first time I'd ever beat off thinking about sex with a man. But the thought was there and I was fantasizing about how it would be.
The next morning I was back on the bus. I was wondering if my tormentor would show up again. I didn't have long to wait. I felt the anticipated hand on my bottom, then two. Before long both hands were on my hips and pulled me into his hard cock. I didn't resist. I felt his knees on the backs of my legs as he squatted down. His cock was wedged between my fat buttocks and we rode like that with the movement of the bus creating a natural rhythm between his cock and my bottom.
One of his hands snaked around and felt my own little erection. "Baby likes her bottom with a cock on it," he hissed.
I didn't move except to inhale. He was right. I did enjoy the feeling of him doing whatever he wanted with me. I wriggled my bottom as my reply. I was working up the nerve to reach behind me and give his cock a squeeze but the bus halted and it was his stop. "Same time tomorrow baby girl." he said loud enough for those close-by to hear.
By the time I reached my office my balls ached. I'd been erect for the past half hour and needed relief. I scurried to the men's room and took a stall. Opening my trousers, I took my dick between my thumb and two fingers and masturbated into toilet paper. My orgasm was the largest I'd ever experienced. The ecstasy washed over me so powerfully that I nearly slid off the commode.
I considered what had happened and there was no denying it. I liked it when he took charge. Taking his pleasure without asking, aroused me. I began to understand that I was submissive in nature. I'm sure Cindy could have told me that a few years ago.
I wrestled with my feelings about him calling me girl. I wasn't an idiot. I knew he considered me a sissy or something like that. I couldn't define the feelings I that were pulling at my psyche. My mind and body were at war with each other.
In my head I knew that my considering a gay experience was wrong. But there is no way I could defy my body's reaction. My little hard dick said it all.
Regaining my composure, I returned to my desk. All day I fought with myself to ignore the feelings that had come over me that morning. But I was not able to forget the feeling of submission as the young stranger put his big cock on me. I shivered at the mental picture several times that day.
I went home and once again Cindy was out. Thankful not have her bantering in my ear I succumbed to the primal need to explore those feeling I experienced during that bus ride. It dawned on me that I might try it at least once. How else would I know if I had gay tendencies or not?
Opening a search engine on my computer, I typed in adults looking for discrete sex. I was surprised to find there are hundreds of thousands of places where one could place an ad for sex partners.
I looked at AFF and thought it might be okay. Then I saw Alt and against my better judgement, opened and account. I answered all the profile questions and uploaded a photo of me in a suit and tie figuring that would make a good impression.
What was I looking for? I thought long and hard ( no pun intended). I typed in that I was looking for a first-time experience with gentleman who could show me what to do. Satisfied I pushed enter.
After finishing my profile, I microwaved my TV dinner and went back to my computer hoping to see a response. Nothing. Nada. I was disappointed to say the least.
I turned on the TV and couldn't tell you what was on. My mind was elsewhere.
I stayed up until well past my bedtime hoping someone would reply.
Cindy came home around 2 AM. She was in her usual state of disarray. "You awake?" she asked slurring her words.
Without waiting for an answer, she did what she does. Grinding out a couple orgasms on my face I heard her calling me names like little dicked sissy, faggot, eat that cum, and crap like that. I ignored it. She was, after all, drunk or high or both, and her pussy as gamey as ever.
The next morning I was standing on the bus once again. Without looking for my friend I waited. Sure enough I felt his large hand caressing my bottom. "Bet this would look so sexy in panties."
I caught my breath. "Excuse me," I replied over my shoulder.
He gave my butt a little spank and repeated himself. "I bet this fine fat ass would look sexy in pretty panties baby girl."
