Public Wi-Fi

Today's technology can make one a little paranoid. I'm well known in my rather conservative community and the last thing I would need would be for people to find out about my fantasies. Like many people, I have a phone, a tablet, a laptop, etc. and I connect to my work network from home frequently. Lately, I'd become somewhat obsessed about my internet trail and fearing my browsing history being discovered inadvertently through some virus, cookies or some other thing of which I was unaware. To avoid this unwanted fate, I bought a new tablet, set it up with a fake name and resolved never to connect to my home or work network with it and would never access my email or any site that was connected to me. Instead, I would use only public wi-fi, keep it separate from all personal information. It would be my porn computer, the vehicle to live out my alternative identity on-line.

To my neighbors and my co-workers, hell, even to myself, I'm a straight-laced, regular guy. No one would suspect my hidden desires. Most of the time, I hide them from myself as well. The nasty things that I want, deep inside, are not to be spoken out loud, not to be thought about outside of the moments when I slip away from myself and indulge. These moments might be weeks apart, they might be months, but sooner or later, they creep up no matter how I try to avoid them. My mind will wander and soon my cock is stiffening and I know it won't be denied. That's when I retreat to my porn computer. I've downloaded hundreds of stories but even still, I need to go online to refresh my supply. Sometimes I can content myself with some old favorites, other times I need to go out in search of a public network where I can gather more porn to feed my secret lust. It was one of these missions for fresh stimulation that caused things to begin to unravel.

I drove to a coffee shop the next town over. There were just a few other people there when I arrived, all minding their own business, some absorbed in conversation, some alone and staring at a laptop or smartphone. I settled in at a table in the corner, facing the mostly empty café so that my screen was well shielded from anyone possibly seeing what I was there to browse. I opened my browser, thought of just diverting myself with some sports news but I knew I was kidding myself. I didn't want to admit it and without really thinking about it, I typed in literotica.com, clicked on Stories and then Gay Male. My cock stiffened at simply clicking the link, hidden desire bubbling to the surface. I thought of just grabbing some of the new stories, downloading them quickly and heading home to stroke myself, as I so wanted to do, but the roster of stories, one after another, held me. My shame only aroused me more, as it always did. Not just any gay story will do either. I don't just secretly desire to have sex with another man. No. It's more than that. I click on a story that seems promising and it has many elements that draw me to my secret place. I read. My cock throbs uncomfortably in my pants. When I get to the end of the story, there's a list of "Similar Stories" and key words. I click on one story after another. Reading each and downloading for later more new favorites. I look up from time to time but try not to look furtive, just a casual glance around to be aware of my surroundings. No one pays me any particular attention. A young couple a few tables away is talking animatedly, a guy across the room talks on his phone as he types away at his laptop, a woman curls up in one of the comfy chairs with her Kindle. I browse through stories, each full of hot gay sex and each with the common thread of my own perspective on it. I can't say it, I can't really even think it, I can only fill up on it until I go home and read some more and stroke myself until all the built up tension explodes from my stiff cock. For now, I keep reading and downloading.

The next time I look up, someone has come to join the guy that was on the phone earlier and they're both looking at his laptop. Then, to my sudden paranoid alarm, they look up at me. They look a little too long and I avert my eyes back to my screen and close my browser. "Don't panic,"I tell myself. These fantasies keep me on edge in more ways than one. Even with my spot in the corner, where they couldn't possibly see, I imagine they know what I'm doing. I look up and the original guy has closed up his laptop and they're coming towards me.

Panic and shame wash over me. "Get it together," I admonish myself, "jesus, they can't possibly know what you're doing."

They keeping coming right towards my table and before I even know what's happening, they sit down. Neither says anything, they just smile, or is it a smirk? With a casual tone that I certainly don't feel, I say, "Hey, how you doing?"

The guy that was here when I got here finally says, "Good. We just thought we'd warn you that these public networks aren't near as secure as you seem to think they are."

A giant knot forms in my stomach and I struggle to respond as if my heart is not racing, "Yeah, I never do any banking or anything like that."

The first guy, smiles, I imagine knowingly again, I can see now that he's a few years younger than me. A normal looking guy, nice looking, I guess, if I were to think such things. "Well that's smart", he says, "but I'm guessing you wouldn't want anyone peaking over your shoulder, so to speak, at what you are looking at."

"Well, not sure why anyone would want to peak over my shoulder to read ESPN."

That smile again. He puts his laptop on the table facing slightly away from me, opens it and starts typing. I freeze, silently watching, waiting for what feels like a train wreck.

""First Time Cocksucker; "Curious Whore"; "How I Became a Gay Cock Slut"; "From Husband to Cumslut". Wow, that's quite a reading list."

I do my best not to look like I want to get up and run out, though I do. "What? I don't know what you're talking about," I offer hopelessly.

"Listen," these networks are easy to hack and sometimes I just hang around to see what people do when they think no one is looking. It doesn't usually turn out so spectacularly, so when I got a load of what you were up to, I gave my friend Dave here a shout to come on over to meet you."

"Well I guess you've done that, so why don't we all just move along, you've had your fun."

He smirks and lets out a little chuckle. "See there, and I thought you were going to keep trying to deny it."

"Look," I say, gaining false confidence, "I don't know what you think you're doing but I think you've got the wrong guy."

"So you're not a closet cocksucker?"

"Jesus, no," I say with as much indignation as I can muster.

Before I can react, he reaches out under the table and runs his hand across my lap and says, "you see I'm pretty sure that you were reading those stories," as his hand roughly squeezes my still hard cock.

I freeze.

"See, now let's just start with you admitting it."

Frozen still, I only look away.

""Curious Whore", is that your favorite?", he says, a little too loud for my comfort.

I muster as much of myself as I can, knowing I have to get out of this situation somehow, "Look, I told you, I don't know what you're talking about but you're kind of making a scene here."

"Alright, well, Dave lives right down the street, what do you say we take a walk over to his place and talk about this?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you guys, are you crazy?"

"If you say so. We can sit right here and talk about it then."

"No. Look, alright, let's just get out of here, I'm telling you, that's not me."

They look at each other. Dave is closer to my age, dark hair and a slightly darker complexion. They both stand up and look to me and I follow suit as they head towards the door, sliding along, one in front of me and one behind. Once we get out the door, Dave comes up beside me and the other slows down and begins walking along the other side of me. I'm bracketed between them and I guess I could try to take off, now that we're out of the coffee shop but I think my mind has shut down and I just walk along between them. We walk only a block or two and Dave turns to a set of double doors, opening onto a small lobby with some mailboxes and a stairway. He goes up the stairs first and I follow mindlessly behind him, the other one following behind me. Up two flights, Dave digs in his pocket for a pair of keys and opens the door. There's one table lamp lit, on a table behind a sofa. The room is dim but not dark when I step inside and stop. I feel the guy behind me take hold of my waist and he runs his hands roughly up my stomach and chest. His hands quickly find my nipples and he pinches roughly but when I try to jump away, he pulls me roughly back against him. He keeps one arm across my chest, still pinching my nipple hard and his other hand roughly gropes my crotch as his mouth comes to my ear and his voice sounds different as he speaks into my ear, "admit it, you're a cocksucker."

"I'm not."

His right hand roughly squeezes my cock. It's hard. "You're going to say it. You're going to say it over and over and you're going to beg for cock."

I moan something that sounds like "no" but even I recognize, from wherever my mind is, that it's feeble.

Dave is in front of me still and I realize now that he's undone his pants and is sliding them down around his thighs. He reaches between his legs and hefts his balls up out of his bunched pants and underwear, then takes his cock in his hand. He runs his hand slowly up his thick shaft and his cock stands hard as I stare at it. His big balls hang loosely and I just stare now, mesmerized.

The guy behind me has his mouth to my ear again, his hot moist breath causes my neck to tilt back and over, my ear and the side of my face involuntarily leaning towards his mouth. "You're going to suck that cock, just like you always wanted to. You're going to suck it until his hot cum fills your mouth." I don't really resist as his knee presses into the back of my knee and he forces me to my knees in front of Dave.

Dave steps closer to me and my tormentor behind uses my hair to pull my head back slightly. I moan helplessly as Dave's cock rests practically on my chin.

"You're a cocksucker," from behind me.

I moan plaintively.

Dave places his hand on my cheek and wipes his cock across my face.

"You know what you are. Just say it."

I gasp, then inhale sharply and I can smell the musky aroma of Dave's cock and balls. The aroma sends a shudder through me and I can almost taste the smell. My mouth opens slightly but still silent as the sight and smell of this man's cock surrounds me, then, what I've always known escapes to the surface, "I'm a cocksucker," and Dave slides his cock across my lips and into my mouth. I moan hungrily around Dave's cock and my body trembles as I cum in my pants as soon as I have my first cock in my mouth.

"Yeah, that's who you are." Dave says almost gently as my lips move urgently up and down his cock.

I keep sucking the cock that I've been starving for for so long, my mouth and my hands working desperately to milk his cum. There's never been anything in my life that I've wanted as much as to feel his cock throb and his hot creamy cum fill my mouth.

Soon I feel his hand on my shoulder and his knees buckle slightly. His hips roll up, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth and his cock pulses and hot cum quickly fills my mouth as I inexpertly try to swallow and keep sucking him. I feel his cum dripping down my chin and out the sides of my mouth and I keep sucking, trying to get every drop, needing it, I know, as only someone that was made for it could need it.

I feel lost when Dave steps back and leaves me without a cock in my mouth.

The guy behind me reaches around to my opposite cheek and turns my head back towards him and when my cheek feels his bare hip, my mouth seeks out his cock like a baby mouths for a nipple. He holds my head away slight from him.

"Do you need some more cock?"

"Yes. Please." All pretenses were gone. There was no way I could deny who I am. "Please."

For the second time I felt whole as I knelt and a cock filled my mouth.

"Oh yeah, suck that cock. Yeah, you're my little cock whore. Suck it."

Desperation doesn't describe what I'm feeling. I feel as if I would cease to be if he took his cock away from me just now. I need it and I need more cum.

"You were meant to have a cock in your mouth. You were meant to have my cock in your mouth. Suck it. I'm going to give you what you need. What's going to make you my cock whore, huh? What's going to make you mine completely?"

"Your cum on my face." It's the only reason imaginable that I would have taken his cock out of my mouth, to tell him that I knew that when he came on my face he would own me. I needed him to know how fully I was submitting to him.

I stroked his cock quickly and firmly and panted, "Cum on my face. Mark me as your whore. Own me. Cum on your whore. Please."

A hot rope of cum shot across my face and then another. My body convulsed and I slumped before him, almost sobbing at the perfection of him standing over me as his cum covered my pleading face. He took his cock in his hand and milked the last drops of cum out on me and then helped me to my feet. His fingers wiped the cum from my cheeks into my mouth as he drew me close and whispered, "I'm going to show you so much more of who you are."