I have a private space I can go to indulge myself and my fantasies -- it's my RV. Parked in the country, I leave it there on land I own. Since I've put in a power line, water and septic, I can live there any time. And if I'm not living there, I can stay there and soak up the quiet and privacy. And indulge. It's also where I can indulge in some of my fantasies.
I'm approaching 70 -- next year -- and over that time, I've found out a few things about my sexuality. First off, I'm bi. I love women; I'm nuts about boobs and fascinated by nipples. I still check out the fashion and styles on my newsfeed, somehow thinking that I'm going to see something I shouldn't (or that shouldn't be shown) in the latest "lingerie trends for everyone" or "this year's best bikinis" stories. You know -- the darker shadows of areolae behind a sheer top, or the protrusions of hard, erect nipples. I know better -- those days of the accidental views are long gone.
At the same time, I love to watch women take on big cocks. I mean, those videos of women, on their knees, pulling down some dude's shorts and revealing a monstrously big dick have always sent blood rushing to my (somewhat smaller) male organ. And then I tumbled on those hypno videos and learned something: I was more interested in the cocks than the women. No, I wasn't "hypnotized" or converted in some way. That's a bunch of bullshit. But I was genuinely aroused by big, hard cocks.
My attraction to them isn't new, but it's been a long time since I've enjoyed one. I made a promise to my wife -- no cheating. That's after I had cheated while away on business. The toughest part of telling her (because keeping that secret was driving us apart) was admitting that I had cheated with a guy. Instead of divorcing me, or being disgusted, she took it in stride and made me promise it would never happen again. And so far, I've been keeping that promise.
That's not to say I haven't been tempted. When it was still around, I made good use of the personals in Craigslist to get pictures. To contemplate setting up meetings. But I never went through with them. If I had somehow found a public glory holes, I might have made use of it -- but all were private ones, and all posted by guys wanting to suck me. When I wanted to be on my knees, driving some stranger's hard cock down my throat and devoting myself to giving him the best possible blowjob he'd ever had.
Before I was married, before the internet, I had found a few, in adult bookstores in New Jersey. Places where I could wander in, exchange money for either quarters or tokens, wait for one a booth with a hole in it, and then spend time satisfying every hard dick that showed up. It was anonymous. In my twisted world view, it was safe. Never mind that I risked a boatload of STD's. And HIV. In my mind, if you couldn't see the guy, you couldn't catch his disease. Twisted and insane, I know -- but since I never caught anything, it wasn't completely useless as a justification. So yeah, I already knew I liked cock. And there were even a few times where it led to his place and giving up my ass to a big cock.
That all did something to me. That and a lot of masturbating. Made it tough to keep up an erection in a wet pussy. Made me a failure in my own mind, so much so that I kept away from hetero sex for way too long. Heck, spending time alone in my RV let me see the country, but kept me apart from people. So, I decided to indulge in satisfying myself.
The first lifelike dildo I got was in an adult store in Montana. I was looking to see if there was a glory hole, and then decided to browse their merchandise when there was absolutely no traffic there. That led me to the dildos, and I found a seven-inch, lifelike cock that had been marked down. I even remember discussing it with the woman at the counter, and she told me that it felt pretty close to real. I didn't say why I was getting it, but I also didn't lie and pretend it was for someone else. Oh, and I made sure to get some lube with it.
I got it home -- back to the RV -- and unwrapped it. It was pretty close to lifelike -- not hard plastic like the toys used to be, but bendable and soft surfaced. It was a good start -- I had something I could practice on, and I did. It took me about a week before I could take the entire thing down my throat and jam the balls up against my chin, and once I could do that, I remember being so very proud of myself. I also remember how intensely I came during the process, barely even touching my own five inches. I kept playing with that until I didn't really need any warm ups -- I could open my mouth and take it all in one gulp. Then I had to find another use for it, and it became my personal anal stimulant. Jerking off with it up my ass, pressing against my prostate, was a whole new world of sensation! The only down side was that after that, I was reluctant to put it back in my mouth.
And then I had one of those attacks of "I'm going to quit this and just go straight" that have happened over the years, and I discarded it. I went for about a year without anything but my own hand before once again stepping into the waters. This time I went online and ordered a small, pale plastic one. Only 5 inches from the tip to the balls -- 6 if you measure from the tip to the base -- and I began to practice again. Once again, it took some time until I could get past my gag reflex, but I did from time to time.