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First I must apologise to any gay men reading this who like their stories with a romantic element. That is not what I am looking for with a man. I am a part-time bisexual. I can go months without thinking about gay sex, but then the urge comes back.
The urge to be fucked, that is. The urge to suck a cock and see spunk fly from it. The urge to get naked with a big, fat, hairy, mature man whose sole intention is to bury his rod in my arse.
But how do you go about it? When you’re so deep in the closet you can’t – and don’t want to – find the door, what are the options?
The obvious one to me is to join a hookup site and advertise my wishes.
This is what happened last time.
I created a profile on a free site, posted pics of my naked body but not my face. I don’t know why, because anyone looking at the site is almost bound to be gay and therefore a potential solution to my problem.
Anyway, I amended my story several time because I didn’t want to sound too desperate, but at the same time I needed guys to know exactly what I wanted and would allow them to do. That’s the key phrase: “allow them to do”. I wanted a guy who would push me a bit.
A nice guy, sure, but an insistent, hungry one whose cock was like a dog straining to get off the leash.
The site was full of undesirables, as usual, because we all have different tastes. I had messages from guys who wanted to humiliate me, abuse me verbally, and I know there’s nothing wrong with that, but it doesn’t turn me on.
There were black guys who assumed that if I was interested in them at all it was because of the size of their cocks and my desire to submit to them.
Then there were some supposed “tops” who really just wanted to get in bed with a guy and get fucked themselves.
Then I found Clive, who looked just what I needed. Tall, stocky, very overweight and with a covering of brownish hair all over. His cock looked small, but you often find that with big guys, where it’s a perfectly decent size but alsancak escort not in proportion to the rest of them.
We exchanged some messages including nice, ordinary, conversational ones. We discussed HIV tests and agreed bareback would be okay. And then he sent me a video of him fucking a young Chinese man, taking him quite forcefully and cumming on his face. I wasn’t sure about that last bit, but Clive was certainly masterful.
We arranged to meet at a pub one Sunday lunchtime. Sunday afternoon sex is always good, I find, with a bit of unaccustomed daytime alcohol loosening me up.
We had some nice roast lamb and three glasses of wine, and we were comfortable together, so at three o’clock he invited me to his place, and to say I was happy to do so would be a considerable understatement. He could have fucked me in the car park if he’d wanted to.
We drove to his place and he parked in his driveway while I left my car outside in the street. It was a row of semi-detached houses, typical suburban England, and that ordinariness somehow felt extra naughty. We two respectable middle-aged men must be going in to watch football or something. No one would ever imagine that we would be doing unspeakable things together.
Once inside, Clive put the kettle on – a British ritual – then we sat down on the settee and he put on some porn. A group of men – bears – running through some meaningless script while we waited for the main event. And suddenly there it was: one lies on his back and raises his legs and another gets on top and fucks him. Then the others join in and it gets confusing: I always think the guy would be better off concentrating on the cock up his arse, and maybe get a squirt from the others later.
“Ever had a group?” Clive asked.
I said no and explained why.
“Well that’s a shame,” he said, “because I’ve got some friends coming round at seven. Anyway, there’s plenty of time for you and me.”
And with that he wrapped me in altıeylül escort his big, muscular arms and kissed me. It was my first time with a guy for a few years and I had never been kissed like that before, but when I recovered from the initial surprise I found myself so turned on that I became someone else. I wrestled with his belt, opened his jeans and pulled his cock out of the hairy den of his underpants.
I took his hard, fat cock in my mouth and loved it like I had never done before. And then I had to tell him something, words I had never uttered to a man before:
“I want to lick your arse,” I found myself saying.
“Then you may lick my arse,” Clive said with a touch of humour. He climbed out of his clothes and knelt on the settee. His back was hairy, his armpits were like forests and he even had fur on his buttocks.
“Lick my arse,” he said gently, obviously knowing that born rimmers love to hear the words and obey the command.
I got down there, pulled his buttocks apart, delirious with lust and loving the furry feel of him. And I licked that man’s bottom. It felt like self-abasement, the most shameful surrender of my masculinity, and yet it was exactly what I wanted. I felt free, lighter than air, liberated by this most despicable of acts.
“Have you got a camera?” I asked breathlessly.
“Sure,” he said, removing his hind quarters from my face and quickly setting a Canon up on a tripod, as if he had done it many times before. Then he returned to the settee and said,
“You want to lick my arse again?” I got stuck in immediately, licking him like the most unlikely of porn stars. With my right hand I was feeling his cock and enjoying his pubic hair. I felt his big stomach, played with his nipples and held his balls. And all the while my tongue was in Sin City, running away with his anus.
“Fuck you’re good at that,” he said with a sigh. “Now I’d better fuck you or I’m going to cum.”
He stood up but before he could altınordu escort get into position I was on my knees before him, loving his size and hairiness and tasting his precum as I sucked him.
It was Clive’s natural, unpretentious masculinity that knocked me over. He wasn’t trying to look like a stud, he was just Clive the average guy being himself with someone who thought he was perfect.
He walked into the bathroom and returned with lube.
“Doggie in here or on your back in there?” he asked, nodding towards a door.
“Both,” I said, getting into position.
Clive mounted me as I had daydreamed about, with the firmness of his touch as he pulled me towards him turning my insides to jelly as he plunged his mighty cock into my arsehole.
I loved the way his balls slapped me and I adored the feeling of being filled to the brim and bludgeoned by this wonderful penis.
Suddenly he pulled out and grabbed me by the arm.
In the bedroom we kissed passionately.
“Next time I want to wear a dress,” I said rather nervously.
“You can tonight,” he said. “I’ve got some for occasions like this.”
He pushed me down onto the bed on my back and I raised my legs for him. He lay between my thighs and whispered,
“Beautiful man.”
I was quite taken aback by being spoken to like that, but then I had just suggested crossdressing for him.
He adjusted his position and rammed his cock back into my arse. I gasped with the sheer thrill of it, not just the penetration but my willingness to allow it.
Big, burly Clive fucked me more and more forcefully until he was slamming me and I felt like his cock was going to come out of my mouth. Then he shuddered and unleashed his precious spunk inside me.
My happy degradation was complete. I had been feeling like getting fucked and the ideal man had come along and fucked me and cum inside my arse.
Big Clive descended and kissed me again. His tongue was invading my mouth like his erect penis had invaded my anus. I was dangerously close to saying something sweet to him, but I decided to save that for later, when I would wear the dress and he would fuck me in front of his friends. And maybe I would suck them and maybe they would fuck me. It all depended on the dynamics of the group.
To be continued
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