It was an average Friday night for me. A little bored and rather horny. Not just any horny, more of a ravenous, down for anything kind of horny. Not having anyone in my life at the time and not really wanting to masturbate, I decided to turn to good old Craigslist (back when that was a thing). I honestly didn't think much would come of it when I posted a rather bland and in retrospect, rather cheesy and generic ad.
"BM, 5'6" fairly well endowed, looking for someone, HWP or BBW, on the northside looking for some weekend NSA fun."
Like I say, I don't even think I was half serious when I posted that and went on to something else. But about 30 minutes later, I had an unexpected response in my inbox.
"Not BBW, WM, northside, looking to have some fun...if you're into something a little different."
Now, of course I knew what WM stood for. Perhaps some days, I would have been like, "Well not really into guys, but thanks." But tonight was different. I was honestly bi-horny. I had never given the thought of being with a guy much of a serious thought before. I had played with my own ass a few times while masturbating, and it felt interesting and sometimes good, but I wasn't sure if it was something I wanted to do more.
But a horny mind is a singular focused mind. When I thought about my fantasies, and sensations that I wanted to experience, they didn't necessarily involve just being with a woman. And I was indeed curious. I had heard and read all the cringe-worthy things before, like, "A man knows what a man wants", and "I have my secret cumdump that does things with his mouth that have me seeing stars." What if that's what it's really like? I honestly didn't have anything to lose as long as I was safe about it. And I am not the type of person to want to die one day kicking myself with regret, especially when it comes to sex.
So I replied, exchanged some details, and it turns out that he literally lived by himself about 5 minutes away from my house. He basically said, "I have a few beers and can't (shouldn't) drink them all by myself. Why don't you come over and have some and what happens, happens. No pressure."
I found myself getting quite aroused. There was a stirring in my pants as I touched myself. I was indeed aching for release, and this was seeming too good to be true. I didn't know what Joe (yes that's his real name) wanted to do, but I was going to find out. Before I changed my mind or chickened out, I replied and told him I would stop by around 10pm.
While in the shower, I did take a minute to explore my body. I had freshly shaven everywhere, because I don't really like body hair and thought about what it would be like to feel another hand on my cock.
Was it different to have a guy's mouth on me?
Would the excitement and newness make me explode?
Would he want me to suck him, and would I be good at it?
I had so many questions, but one thing was definite. My biggest fetish and turn is the orgasm itself. I loved getting someone else off, whether it be with my dick or my mouth. Watching their body convulse uncontrollably, the moans, the curses, the grunting...that was the greatest thrill. The more they came, the greedier that I got in my attempts to bring pleasure. To me, that was just as good or better than my own orgasms. I snapped from my reverie when I realized that I had stroked myself almost fully hard. I sure didn't want this show to be over before it even started.
I will admit I was a little nervous when I walked into Joe's place. A small quaint bachelor's pad, everything was immaculate and there was a scent of some sort of incense. It was obvious to me that he was the type that entertained "guests" but lived alone. Even though I wasn't attracted to men in a "Wow he turns me on" type of way and never had been, Joe was an attractive guy. Fit and tan, he stood a couple of inches taller than me. He had cropped blonde hair and a chiseled jaw. Wearing just a white wife-beater, a pair of boxers and socks, he clearly made it apparent what he was looking to do, without having to say anything. I would find that out about him in much more detail later on.
We made some small talk as he showed me his place and his art collection. He was true to what he said as in no pressure. When I look back on it, he knew that I was "inexperienced," and I think he loved that. After a couple of beers he said, "Why don't you get comfortable."
It was a really cold day that day, but all I had on was a heavy fleece pullover, a pair of sweatpants and underwear.
"Well," I said, "I'm most comfortable naked." I quickly and not very seductively took off all my clothes, and this was really a moment of awakening for me. Here I stood, stark naked in front of this strange man, and my mind and body was on fire in a good way. Perhaps it was the way that he looked at me. His face was an expression of hungry greed and smug satisfaction. Here I was before him, naked and completely vulnerable and he hadn't lifted a finger or said a word to convince me. I knew then and there who was going to be calling the shots, and I honestly never felt better about it in my life. I knew he was going to do things to me, and I was going to let him.
"You have a nice body," he said. Leaving his shirt on, he dropped his boxers to the floor and stepped out of them. "Do you like what you see?"
"Yes, yes, I do." I didn't know what the hell to say. "You have a nice dick", would sound so childish I wouldn't dare. But he did though, as far as the dicks I had seen in porn or in the locker room go. I estimated about 6 inches and pretty girthy. He was shaven like myself, but he had much larger balls than mine. All of my thoughts were completely dirty now.
What if he wanted me to suck him?
Would it gag me if he shot his load in my mouth?
What if he wanted other things?
All of these thoughts were rhetorical, of course. I was going to do whatever I needed to get him off.
"Why don't you have a seat," he said. I did as ordered and he took my now semi hard dick and started to stroke me. My rational mind of course knew that it was just a hand, but the thought of it being this strange man manipulating me made it feel much more intense. In a move that made me audibly gasp, he took half of me into his mouth without warning.
"Oh fuck," I said as my back arched uncontrollably. My toes curled as he moved his mouth up and down my shaft, never letting his lips lose their grip. I wasn't sure how long it was, as my eyes were clenched tightly and my breathing was ragged as I felt myself start to swell in his mouth. I was snapped to my senses when he released his mouth from me with a pop.
"Don't come yet..." he said through wet lips.
"But, how did you know?" I said, almost pleading.
"I've sucked a lot of cocks in my day. I know exactly when to stop. I kinda like to control the action."
"I can tell. I guess I have to do what you want?" I wasn't really asking, but it sounded better than saying what I was really thinking out loud. I know now, I was entering what in the BDSM world is called subspace. I wasn't interested in being in charge at that moment. I wanted to be objectified and ordered. I wanted at that moment to be used as a pleasure object, nothing more and nothing less. I didn't have to say it because he knew it. Joe would tell me later that my almost non-existent resistance was something I shouldn't be ashamed of, but he was just that good. Joe was a nice guy, but he sure was arrogant.
Joe nodded and stood up, his semi-hard dick near face level. I had never been that close to another man's penis before. It stood there, brownish pink, with thick veins and a perfectly shaped head, just inches from me. It wasn't nervousness that made me hesitate: It was excitement and I had to take a moment to look at it. I mean, we had the same parts of course. But everyone is unique. Would his member react the same way mine did? Would he cum quickly in my mouth?
I didn't want to keep him waiting though, and I sensed that he wasn't going to order me to service him. He was going to make me want to do it. I took his balls in one hand and gently moved him a step closer. I could feel the heat as I pressed my lips on his glans and kissed it, then opening my mouth took his head inside. It was indeed hot, and both firm and soft at the same time. It was electric to me, doing this for the first time. My anus quivered and my own cock flinched as I slowly went deeper down his shaft.
There was no stopping now, I was mesmerized by having this little semblance of control, although I wanted none. I could tell that Joe liked it as his hips gyrated very slowly pushing deeper inside my hungry mouth. When I came up for air his now rock hard cock had a line of my spit mixed with his salty precum on my lips.
"Do you like that," I asked, almost meekly.
"You're doing great," he said. Something in me was seeking his approval, and I smiled. "Let me sit down."
We traded places and he sat down with legs spread out, his dick standing at full attention. I knew my place, so I got down on my knees. I was surprised that it came so natural when I ran my tongue up and down the thick cumpipe, going ever lower and licking his heavy sack. I knew enough from my own anatomy when I ran a finger along the hard engorged ridge of the perineum that I was doing well.
All inhibitions were lost as I took him back into my mouth, sucking and spitting. I wanted to take as much as I could in my mouth. Forming a ring around the shaft, I gauged how deep in I was inhaling him. 2 inches, then 3, then 4. When my fingers were resting nearly on his pubic bone, I knew I was almost there.
And then it happened. I took my hand away, and pushed hard, but the tip of his dick touched my throat and I gagged. It was a dry heave, but I lurched back coughing.
Through watered eyes I said, "Oh god, I'm sorry..."
Joe shushed me quickly. "Don't be sorry. That was so hot. You are a good cock-sucker. Do you like sucking cock?"
I nodded, wiping my lips. "I like sucking you. Do you want me to finish you? I think I can..."
Joe thought for a moment. "Well, that's an option. But a better option would be to leave that up to you. What do you want?"
I knelt with my butt on my knees and looked down. My semi-hard dick had a long line of clear juice dripping down onto my thigh.
