It's Monday, and Mondays always seem to suck. I suspect that it is a universal experience, returning to work after a couple of days off. It kind of highlights all the "have-to's" and makes things seem less fun. For my job there are lots of extra tasks piled onto Mondays to make them even more of a pain in the ass. So, I am not leaping into this day with joy and enthusiasm.
I log on early in the morning to check email and don't find anything interesting in any of my mailboxes. I log off and do my usual morning chores: make lunch for my partner and send him off to work, load and start the dishwasher, do some general straightening and puttering.
My partner and I have been together for over twenty years, and sexually open for fifteen of those. We consider ourselves married even though it's not legal. Someday maybe it will be. We're both very sexual creatures and have enjoyed the security of a committed relationship and the freedom to play and explore on the side.
I'm in my mid-forties and pretty much just an average gay white guy. I am 5'9", brown hair, green eyes, somewhat boyish face, clean shaven. I am naturally smooth with very little body hair. My dick is an average five inches or so. I have a smooth bubble butt that likes lots of attention.
I've had three serious relationships. The first two were when I was younger and both were about two years each. In the first one, we were just figuring things out, and I guess I'd have been considered versatile. In the second, I was very much a top. In my marriage, I'd be considered a bottom, except that we don't play that way very often. The sex is good, but mostly oral and mutual masturbation and body contact. Good sex, but vanilla. Oh, and I'm a lucky guy because hubby has a big dick.
About eighteen months ago, I started having vivid fantasies about being dominated. Because of our open relationship, I was able to explore this a bit, and got lucky. I found a couple of expert players who introduced me to rougher sex and being submissive in a safe and gentle way. Somewhere in the middle of this journey, I hooked up with Matt, meeting him on Manhunt.
The first meeting was just a regular hook-up, nothing notable. We traded sucks and played with each others' asses. He's about a year younger than me, dark hair, dark eyes, mustache and goatee, muscular frame with light hair on his chest. He played a little rough that first time, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Oh, except that Matt also has a big cut dick. It is very similar in size to my partner's, but a little longer and the head is slightly larger. I can swallow hubby's dick all the way down to the base but Matt's is just bigger enough to prevent my doing the same with him.
After a few months we got together a second time, Matt and I. It was planned that I would bottom for him. I did and it was good. It was really good; good enough for Matt to want to come back even though he usually doesn't play with guys more than a couple of times. He says he likes to "Fuck 'em and chuck 'em."
We started talking online about my exploring my submissive side and it turned out that Matt was wanting to explore his dominant side. So we made another date and things got a little rough, and we both liked what happened. A lot. We played again, several times, sometimes including one or another guy. We always have a great time.
Our online discussions also became frequent and heated, and at one point while exploring some of our mutual fantasies, he called me "boy." It was as if that word was connected directly to my dick. It drove me crazy. I let him know, and soon enough, Matt was calling me "his boy" and I was calling him "my man." These labels seemed to fit our dom/sub explorations better than daddy/boy or sir/boy or master/slave. Matt is neither a daddy nor a sir. But he is a strong, sexy, masculine man.
We've also discovered a sort of romantic tenderness, and our couplings have evolved into a mix of rough sex and passionate lovemaking. This is new territory for both of us, fantastic new territory.
I work from home, and have for about a year now. I telecommute to a job that is about 700 miles away. It's a much better situation than I had previously, where I spent hours in the car commuting every day. Working from home also means I can enjoy some playtime easily.
But with working from home comes new issues. If I'm not careful, I'll sit around in my t-shit and underwear all day. Hubby will call to say he's on his way home and I'll jump in the shower and get dressed at the end of the day. I've tried to be better about the whole thing lately, so I've recently added a morning shower to my routine. That also helps when I get lucky and find someone on Manhunt or craigslist who wants to play right away. The shower always helps get me going, too; something I really need on Monday mornings.
After my shower, I log back on to Manhunt, as I usually do, and sign on to work. I usually keep Manhunt running in the background as I work, just in case. Yeah, I'm a horndog.
I review the material I need to be familiar with for the daily conference call at 10. I look for Matt online and don't see him. I catch myself sighing. I've come to count on online back-and-forth with Matt. It makes me feel closer to him, and I have to admit, also eases the daily tedium. He's become a big part of my life.
The conference call is the usual dullness. At least there aren't any emergencies on top of the regular things. We finish by 10:30, miracle of miracles. I look for Matt online again, and he's still not there. I feel a twinge, a physical pang deep in the root of my belly. Visceral. Missing him. An ache. A need.
My cell phone rings and I expect it to be hubby. I look and it is Matt calling. I wonder what's up, since he rarely calls me. I'm married. He's married. He works in an office about an hour away. Calling isn't part of our regular contact.
My heart races as my mind immediately jumps to "something's wrong." I answer and cannot even begin to control my nerves.
"Hello." My voice cracks as I say it.
Immediately Matt picks up on my nerves. "Hey, boy. It's your man. Nothing's wrong. I had to drive down your way for work and thought I'd come over and surprise you."
My nerves change to excitement. "Great! What time should I expect you?"
"Now."
I am confused. I start to ask.
He interrupts, "I drove over after my errand. I'm just around the corner. Two minutes, max." He hangs up.
"My day just got a whole lot better," I think as I rush to straighten things up a bit, so we're not having to play amidst the papers from work. I hear his car in the drive; he wasn't kidding about being close by. I run down the stairs in time to see him get out of his car.
I am again taken aback by how sexy he is. My breath catches in my throat. I open the door. Matt says hi and smirks, reading my obvious excitement. His smirk is an adorable half-smile that makes his eyes twinkle and his sexiness go through the roof.
He walks through the open door and turns to shut it. I cannot wait any longer and need to kiss him right away. I step closer and lean in; he puts his hand on my chest, holding me back, and says firmly, "Down, boy."
I must look like he slapped me. He smirks. I start to say something and he puts his index finger over my lips and makes a shushing sound. I start to protest and Matt presses a little more firmly. I pull back from his finger and then try for a kiss again, my ache is palpable.
Matt pushes me back again. "I said, 'Down, boy!'" The sound of his voice has a sharp edge. He looks at me, raising his eyebrows, mocking my surprise and confusion. Another smirk; his eyes are twinkling.
Matt leans in very close to me, his lips right next to my ear, and he says in a very low growly voice, "I'm here to make my final claim, boy. You ready? Cuz you're going to eat my load today."
