(All characters are older than 18 years.)
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I was getting fucked by another guy on my own bed. For a while now, I had been groomed and didn't know it until it was too late. I put myself in a position of complete servitude to John, a massive black man, who handled me as if I was a toy, he thrust himself inside of me; both of us acting oblivious to Bianca, my girlfriend; she watched everything, right beside of me. She was the one who arranged the whole 'threesome', and now she acted as if everything had been a bad idea.
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I whined and bit my pillow as the thick cock with its bulging head entered me. Definitely too late now to have any regrets.
John savored me. There wasn't a better way to describe it. I was his meal, and he savored me. I asked for more, many times, but can't quite remember. I closed my eyes to avoid Bianca. My cock dangled, rock hard and abandoned for the greatest part, but still I cummed on my sheets inevitably; afterwards my cock lost the erection, it was quite funny how the pitiful little thing kept dangling with my balls while the bigger man kept putting in me. The erection returned after a while, no time to breathe.
'Feels so fucking good,' I cried, and earned a slap, the pain painted the image in my mind of his great palm on my ass. 'Shit,' I said like a whimp.
I looked at Bianca, whose face had become a deep shade of red. I instantly turned the other way and closed my eye, pretending I hadn't see it, otherwise I would be forced to face the man I had become, if it even could be called that; to admit to myself that it was wrong, when she clearly wasn't enjoying herself. In those moments, John's cock turned me into a big selfish whore. However, I at least tried to not moan out loud anymore.
At one point, John laid on top of my back, causing me to lay completely down, and kissed my neck; he fucked me calmly, not too fast, not too slow, and I had a moment to breath deeply, instantly getting overwhelmed by the smell of masculine sweat; the warmth of his breath on my neck, sending shivers through my body - my cock twitched and flinched, my balls tightened painfully and I cummed again. I had cummed twice.
John closed the distance between his lips and my ear, and told me that he never wanted to leave my tight hole; then he bit my ear softly, his hips started to bounce again rapidly, crushing me with his weight, and his cock.
I turned my face to the other side, suddenly burning with curiosity to see if Bianca was still watching. That's when I saw she wasn't there anymore.
She had left the room, when exactly I couldn't say, and shame and guilty crushed me so that I knew the fun was over, the night of discovery finally hit a wall. John slid his cock out of me, he must have sensed something, and yes, it had been so, because he looked at me and nodded, then left the bed and started to dress up. I did the same.
John left without saying goodbye to Bianca, she was in the kitchen, and didn't say anything in return. I closed the door, and went after her, but she rejected my touches and my words, closed her face, in doing so amplifying my guilt, my shame.
I was suddenly hit by the awareness of my unmanly shameful actions, the things I said out loud in appreciation of another man's cock, let alone the penetration, so powerful an effect it had on me that my body still trembled.
As I showered, I brushed my body hard to cleanse myself, but couldn't wash away the shame that still burned my mind in the form of my girlfriend's hurt eyes. To make things worse, John's creamy cum was still inside of me, I could feel as some of it was ejected from my anus, it made me so hard. I tried my best to clean myself there, my fingers reaching up, and that too aroused me to a point where I had to relieve myself, if only to be able to look Bianca in the eyes without being reminded of John.
Bianca came to sleep on the bed, her long black hair loose around her shoulders; but she turned away from me, still maintaining her silence. I said I was sorry, once and twice, but never said for what exactly, so my apologies carried no strength, and were to no avail. I was afraid that she would leave me, spreading rumors around of my emasculation, my weakness of character, my humiliation. People would laugh at me, and ridicule me. It was terrifying because deep down I still thought of myself as a complete straight man that was led astray. This thought was in direct conflict with my encounter with John, with him I had submitted to anal sex, long passionate kisses, and vulgar words that denigrated me to a sex object with no dignity - And, in all of it, I had delighted myself.
At morning, I was surprised to see my girlfriend's light humor, and we managed to avoid any awkwardness, as if nothing was wrong. I believed for a moment that maybe we could go on without ever remembering the previous night, but then breakfast came. From the other side of the table, she gave me a look, sighed, and I knew in my guts what would come next.
Bianca surprised me again.
'I just wanna say I'm sorry,' she said. 'I know that you weren't trying to hurt me, and I shouldn't have... I shouldn't be mad at you. I've seen how you can become when...' Here she paused, but it was obvious to me she was referring to my anal pleasure. 'You enjoy it, I get that. I accept it. But no more other men. I'm not comfortable with that, I thought I was, but I'm not. Okay?'
'Okay,' I said, nodding automatically. But inside, I was disappointed. I guess I wanted more of John. Hopefully I hid it well.
I was already at work, locked inside an office, when I allowed myself to relive everything, every little sensation I came across yesterday, the first time I kissed a man, a real kiss with tongue and a lot of saliva, and was touched, touches with the strength of a beast and fueled by desired, that made me cry out or moan softly or sigh in desperation. I bit my lip, and smiled pathetically by myself in that little office, in spite of myself and my shame.
John chose that moment of weakness to send me a text:
John: are you okay?
Ignoring my job, I stared at the message, and wondered if I should answer it. Someone knocked on the door, and I put aside the phone and its forbidden message for a while, and I dealt with a load of paperwork, which tortured my mind with boredom and gave me an even bigger anticipation for John's text. What should I say? I wondered, not if I should, but what would I say. I pushed the guilt aside for now.
When I grabbed the phone - I was alone again - I saw that John had sent many other messages, resuming: he was apologizing for anything that he might have done wrong, he thought that Bianca was acting weird towards him, and also worried if he had hurt me.
I held up the texts in front of me for minutes, and finally I at least acknowledged some of his questions.
Me: I'm fine. You didn't hurt me.
But before I could put a quick end to the conversation, he followed up with some more questions.
John: so you enjoyed it? I know you did, but I want you to say it.
I felt the erection growing in my pants. I avoided the question, but he insisted with questions about how much I enjoyed. I was pulled into a quick exchange where he would ask - did you like when I did this to you? - And I answered - Yes. Sure. Definitely. I loved it - The conversation escalated so much that he started to send voice messages.
His deep voice sent me back in time. It was like he was right beside me. He growled at me with his words, and it shouldn't affect me, but it was, somehow it was working. John worked at the same job, the same building, with Bianca. What if she heard? I felt both thrilled and ashamed.
'Man. You have no idea,' John said. 'Can't stop thinking about sticking in your naughty hole; so tight, I wish I kept going all night. You kept begging for more, you so bad.'
So strange, to be talked to in such a way, so different from girls, so different from anything I've ever heard from other guys - it felt wrong, but the good kind of wrong, the kind that would give you shivers, erections and fever dreams. I grinned foolishly while I pressed the phone close to my ears and repeated the audio over and over; safely hidden inside my office, in my world of perversion, I wanted to please John so much.
'I went to sleep with your cum still inside of me,' I said.
I locked my attention on my phone and waited for him to answer to my damning confession, it vibrated again. I checked it quickly, expecting another voice message, needing it. But It was Bianca.
She was just warning me she left work early and was already home, so I didn't need to pick her up; a simple message, nothing alarming, yet it threw me off completely from the erotic frenzy, and I rubbed my face hard, slapping myself on the face, once then twice, and let all the depressing guilty wash over me again, the weight of that guilt overwhelmed me. What was I doing to my girlfriend?
In a sudden burst of courage, I told John to forget about me, to stop sending me stuff; and I proceeded to delete everything about him, contact, messages, even the pictures of his cock, the thick long cock which was the stuff of my dreams, I deleted all the pictured he sent me, deleted, deleted, goodbye John. I could only hope he would accept it. He did it. In the days that followed I would fool myself thinking that I was happy he accepted my departure so willingly, but I was very hurt. Sure, he only fucked me once, but we had been exchanging words for a longer time. I should mean something to him.
I'm not gonna lie that there wasn't a certain relief from being cut off from my temptation. I was able to focus on my girlfriend and my job, and that very same day passed fairly quickly.
By the time I got home, I was feeling weightless, confident that my life was going to come back to the way it was, and I kissed Bianca hungrily, took her to bed, and tried to regain a bit of my masculinity. I think it worked. At one point, Bianca's finger tried to reach that place that had caused me so much headache, and I pushed it aside.
'You don't have to. No more of that... Never again' I said. I was surprised by the security in my voice. Bianca too, I thought, her face flushed, her eyes gleamed, and much more avidly she bobbed on my cock. I held her hair, and pushed her down on me.
Sleep evaded me that night; I faced the harsh truth: it would be hard to forget John, he plagued my mind. I didn't even get the chance of doing him twice, or more. Just once. It seemed unfair. It was unfair too that I wouldn't even be able to give me a consolation with toys, because after experimenting John's meat, how would I ever be satisfied. I think that was the real reason I rejected Bianca's fingers earlier. It was like after cumming inside, he marked his territory, and nothing could invade me but him. My hole was his. Nobody else could get it.
Eventually, as anyone who has an addiction knows, my resolve weakened and my bravado all but disappeared, and I dreaded my future, either for the lack of gay action, or the fear that I would get that action anyway. I couldn't win. It was horrible to wake up knowing that I had to lie to my girl, to look Bianca in the face as we spent time together; in public, I had to keep appearances, at parties and meetings with my guy friends; I suffered the most with them, guys that I had known forever, now I couldn't be too close without being too aware of their smell, the smell of men, either their perfume or the natural smell of sweat, I would stare at their mouths when they weren't looking, or check their bulges. Some of them might even have realized, I noticed Paolo, a brown hunk, looking at me weird. He looked a bit like John, so I couldn't control myself. But hopefully, he forgot about it.
