Foreword
Jay came to me in my direct messages. He had seen my photo, found it stimulating and suggested he would like to suck my cock. I do not know and have never met Jay. I do not know where he lives, where he works, or what occupation he follows. I don't suppose I know any of the places he knows. He reports that he lives thousands of miles from me. He is married and bisexual.
Usually when I write a story for Literotica, I spend a fair amount of my imagination on drafting details and descriptions to provide the 'who,' the 'where' and the 'why' for my story. I did not do that in this story: partly because I did not have the kind of raw material I usually have; partly because I spent all my imagination on the 'what.' What happens if one squelches homophobia, dials down the volume on one's ordinary sexual preference, and just imagines what it would be like to be fellated by a man.
If you are disappointed by the lack of detail, I apologize. Jay, this one's for you. I hope you like the story as much as I liked imagining what that might be like.
***
I always figured that I was as straight as Washington Boulevard until Jay said he wanted to suck my cock. It got me wondering whether I had been missing out. It seems Jay had seen a photograph of me. It had been taken in the library. I was in business clothes - a dress shirt with tie and dark slacks. The camera had caught me with my hand hanging below my waist at just about the level of the fly in my trousers. Jay found it suggestive and he said so.
I did not know Jay very well. I knew he was a married guy a few years younger than I am. I did not know it beforehand, but I learned that he identifies as bisexual. His wife, he told me, was aware of his orientation, she just may not be aware how actively bisexual he is. She knew about an episode or two that they had engaged in together, but not about all of Jay's conquests and solo adventures. That is not really my business.
Anyway, Jay saw my photo and remarked. "That photo looks like you are rubbing yourself through your slacks."
"I wasn't really," I told him. "It's just the camera angle and I got caught in motion. That's the way it came it out."
"Well, I'd happily give that thing a good rubbing, or even get down on my knees give it a righteous sucking," Jay volunteered.
The suggestion made me feel a little awkward.
"How big are you?" he inquired.
"Just average, I responded. "Could we let that drop?"
We didn't, of course, not right away. Jay asked a few more questions about my sexual anatomy and sexual experience and volunteered a few more details of his own. I tried to keep my part of the conversation to monosyllables. Eventually, the subject changed.
Later in the day, when I was alone, I could not stop thinking about our conversation. The noise in my head would not stop:
"The guy said he wanted to suck my cock. All my girlfriends have sucked it. I guess it's not that strange. Yeah, but he's a guy. Yeah, he's a pretty good-looking younger guy. Sounds like he has sucked some cocks, too. But, he's a guy. Yeah, some guys suck other guy's cocks. He wanted to know how big my cock is. Yeah, and you could have told him how big your cock is, couldn't you? Of all the women who have sucked you, how many made you come? Only Julia, but she knew what she was doing. You think Jay knows what he's doing when he sucks cock? Well, he has one. He's a guy. Do you want to suck
his
cock? No! He's a guy! I want
him
to suck
my
cock. You what?"
That is the collapsed version of the noise in my head. I did not come to my conclusion quite so quickly. When I came to the conclusion, however, it was inescapable. I wanted to be fellated by a man who knew what he was doing. I was perfectly willing to be one of that young guy's 'variety sex objects.' He was not going to leave his wife of more than a decade. I was not going to suddenly turn gay. We had already established that Jay was an adventurer. And, I had just realized that I was inclined to have a strange sexual adventure of my own - with a guy.
I revisited these ideas for a couple days. Further reflection did not change my conclusion. Without going into a lot of unnecessary detail, let us just say that Jay's and my orbits intersect at intervals, but we don't see one another daily. I thought repeatedly about how, when I next encountered Jay, I would return our conversation to the proposition that made me feel awkward and open negotiations. It proved simple enough when the time came - I apologized.
"Jay," I said, when we met some days later, "I am sorry. You were asking me some questions the other day and I kind of clammed up on you. There really is no reason why we cannot talk frankly about personal things. I'll try to put aside my awkwardness."
Jay looked a little puzzled. He did not seem to know what personal conversation I had thought awkward. Not sharing my level of sexual repression, he may genuinely not have found the conversation awkward. I do not know.
I continued. "My cock is six inches long when it's fully erect. I really am average, but some girlfriends have told me that I am big around. I never measured that."
"Oh, yeah," he said, "I am actually a little shorter than that."
"Yes, you told me," I said. "And, to remedy some of my other sort of evasive responses; I've been circumcised since infancy; and no, I've never had any kind of sex with another man."
"My first time with another man was at my wife's suggestion, but I've done it dozens of times since then more or less on my own," Jay reminded me.
"Yes, I know, you told me. You also told me that you would like to rub my cock and balls and treat me to a blow-job. Does that offer still hold?" I inquired.
"Sure!" Jay said enthusiastically. "I got the sense you weren't interested." He took a step toward me with his hand stretched toward my crotch.
I raised my hand like a cop directing traffic. "Not right now," I said. "But, I thought about it. I think I'd like that. Let's make a date for next week, my house, I'll text you the address. It will be my first time with a guy. I want it to be just right."
And that was it. I had a date for the following Friday afternoon to get my cock sucked ... by a guy. I did want it to be just right. I needed to make some preparations. They did not need to be too extensive, but a few details had to be attended to.
On Monday, I went to the liquor store and bought a quart of whisky and some soda water. It was just a little something to calm jittery nerves. I could not guess whether Jay would be nervous. He had not seemed too nervous when we talked. He had seemed more like he was ready to service me on the spot. Still, I knew that on Friday afternoon I was going to want a drink.
On Tuesday, the cleaning lady came. The house got dusted and vacuumed. The kitchen got cleaned. The house looked suitable for visitors.
I went for a haircut on Wednesday. When I came home, I got out the beard trimmer, and a safety razor and I did some manscaping. I trimmed my bushy pubic hair back so that it did not extend beyond the seams on the bikini briefs I had decided to wear. Then I, ever so carefully, shaved my wrinkly pink scrotum and the shaft of my distinctly average-sized cock. I put some effort into getting a clean close shave.
On Thursday, I teased my well-manscaped cock fully erect, I shot a glorious dick pic with my cell-phone and attached the picture to the text with my address and invitation to Jay for the next afternoon. He replied almost immediately:
