My First (but not last) Cock

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The story of my late start in life as a cocksucker (bottom).
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I started late in life on my journey to being a cocksucker, a year or so after my 50th birthday. I had spent years and years of fantasizing about being on my knees, a big, throbbing, boner down my throat and being rewarded with a hot, thick load of man cream. But I should slow down, my dick is already stiffening just typing those words and I need to get this whole story down on paper. Writing this will be cathartic as I confess my adoration for the male member and the sheer thrill I get out of servicing a hard cock to completion.

I've always associated with being "straight," a southern born redneck that enjoys hunting, fishing, football, and pretty girls. But if you saw the look of pure lust in my eyes and the way my cock throbs and leaks when I'm on my knees, naked, getting my face fucked by an alpha male, you would not consider me straight in the least. And I can't argue with that assessment.

Straight, gay, bisexual...those are just labels that mainstream folks put on sexual preferences, to differentiate themselves from those they consider different, odd, or just plain perverted. Paint me whatever label you prefer, I don't really care. While I still love beautiful women and enjoy fucking girls of all types, I'm never in a higher state of bliss than when I'm giving a dick a worshipful blowjob.

A little on my background; after I graduated from graduate school, I married my college sweetheart and started a job in a big city. I spent 20 plus years enjoying the good old American dream, nice house, great kids, cool toys, and a social circle of good friends. Thoughts of cock were pretty much limited to a lonely jerk off session now and then.

In my teens, I'd messed around with guys a few times. Typical high school hijinks like jerking off with a buddy as we watched his Dad's VHS collection of 1970's porn. Or a poker game that turned into "strip poker" with the loser having to blow the winner. Back then, we didn't even know what "gay" was, it was just horny teenagers letting off steam and doing forbidden things.

But those images stayed with me through adulthood, as I often remembered the thrill of a buddy filling my mouth with his cum in the woods behind his house. I couldn't flush those memories no matter how hard I tried. I knew my wife would never understand and my friends would at best laugh, or maybe even ostracize me if I talked to them about my cock lust.

Anyway, as the kids went off to college, the wife and I continued to drift further apart. Our sex life was non-existent and I thought it was because my wife had decided sex just wasn't on her agenda. I found out the hard way that my assumption was wrong one day when I came home from work early.

I entered the house through the garage and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I heard what sounded like a porn playing in the family room and wondered if one of the kids had found my secret stash of DVDs. Rounding the corner, to my surprise, I found the porn sounds were coming from my wife, bent over the back of the couch getting plowed by our pool guy. His long, fat latino cock was repeatedly thrusting in and out of my wife's pussy, her climatic concert of moans and groans something I had never heard emitting from her prim and proper mouth.

"Yes, Carlos, fuck my cunt with that big brown cock."

"Slap my ass, stud. Make me your bitch."

"Oh, fuck, I need that fat dick so bad. Don't fucking stop you animal."

"Breed my pussy with your hot Mexican cum."

I should have been furious, but instead I hid behind the door and massaged my growing boner through my slacks. While I was amazed that my wife had this in her, I was hypnotized by Carlos' huge fuck stick as he screwed the living daylights out of her pussy. I actually thought to myself, "Damn I'm jealous. I wish Carlos was feeding me that fat pipe."

I played it very cool and walked right up to them, clearing my throat to get her attention.

"Don't let me interrupt," I began. "I'm home early and I think I'll go for a swim. Hopefully Carlos got the pool cleaned before you put him to work on other things."

"Shit," was all my wife could manage, Carlos frozen with his cock buried to the hilt in my wife's box.

"No worries," I continued. "I'm glad to see you still have some sex drive in you. Hell, you'd make a porn star blush the way you are carrying on. After I get in a swim, I'll pack up and start moving out. I think this is the official end of our marriage."

With that, I headed upstairs to put on my swimsuit. I couldn't believe how calm, collected, and detached I had acted. But to be honest, I really just wanted an excuse to end this boring and loveless marriage. And boy did I have an excuse now.

Oh, and I also wanted to get upstairs, drop my trousers, and jerk out a huge load dreaming of Carlos' fat sausage. My dick lust was back in a big way and maybe if I had the balls, I'd finally start acting on my desires.

Over the next few weeks, we worked out an amicable divorce. Susan, my wife, kept trying to apologize, and she would get so mad when I just shrugged it off.

"Dammit, Bob, don't you want to try and make this work," she'd shout.

"Too late for that dear," I'd respond. "I just can't get the image of our pool guy's penis buried deep in your vagina out of my mind." And it was 100% true; I couldn't get the erotic image of his big, hard, throbbing dick out of my mind. Of course, I had no problem forgetting the image of my wife's pussy wrapped around his meat.

I let her keep the house, but I got all my toys and only had a small monetary upkeep payment to make to her monthly. The kids were told that we had just drifted apart and the divorce was the best thing for both our sanities. To be honest, we got along better as a family once I had moved out.

I bought a small fixer upper in a decent neighborhood, near to work. I dated a few women over the next couple of years and spent hours upon hours surfing porn, dreaming of dick, and trying to get up the nerve to act on my fantasies. I'd post on Craigslist, looking for dick to suck. I'd exchange body pictures and was on the verge literally hundreds of times to meet a guy and service him, but I always flaked at the last minute. I always had an excuse; too far to travel, uncomfortable hosting, guy sounds like a serial killer (which actually isn't an excuse, but rather the norm on most of these hookup sites), the dog ate my homework, etc., etc.

I bought a rubber dildo and practiced giving head with the cock stuck on a mirror in the bedroom. I became fairly proficient at deepthroating and kept buying longer and fatter rubber cocks to improve my skills. These sessions always gave me a raging hardon and led to the most intense whacking. I loved cumming on the dildos and then eating my own load as I slurped it from the veiny rubber dicks.

I became infatuated with sissy and tranny porn and started dressing like a sissy slut. I bought higher and higher heeled stilettos, tons of silk stockings, garter belts, bras, wigs, and even makeup. I was not now, nor would I ever be a "passable" sissy and I only dressed up in the privacy of my own home. I'm a hairy guy, with a full beard and a very masculine look. But dressing like a cheap whore made me even hornier to suck an alpha male's cock.

Having hit 50, I realized I was in lousy shape and started working out again, losing a few pounds and getting back in reasonable condition. While I felt better, the one area it really helped was in my cock. I started getting longer, firmer, more sustainable erections that just enhanced my hours and hours of edging. The other advantage of spending more time in the gym was the showers. All that testosterone flowing through the locker room and all those naked men with big, dangling cocks made my mouth water. If it weren't for the embarrassing boners I'd pop in the shower, I could have stayed there for hours admiring all that manly dick.

Over Presidents Day weekend, I had plans to do some work in the backyard. Unfortunately a big storm blew in and the weekend was pretty much a washout. I started posting on Craigslist that Saturday afternoon, cruising for some cock to suck. I did some work inside the house, wearing a pair of frilly pink panties under my basketball shorts and periodically checking my email. I had no expectation that I would actually follow through...I mean, why would I? I always chicken out.

I had a couple of promising leads, but nothing actually materialized. A guy would finally send me a picture of his dick and the little stump would look like it was covered in herpes or the guy would insist on me sending a face pic, which I always refused to do. I didn't want the world to potentially know about my cock-sucking fetish. Anyway, Saturday ended and I was still cock-less.

Sunday was much the same and by dark I decided to pour myself a healthy tumbler of twelve-year old scotch and type out one more posting. By this time, I was so edged up, having not shot my load in seven days, that I was ready to abandon my fears and really do this, if I could find a sane guy. I even posted that I was willing to host, under some conditions.

Cum Over and I'll Swallow Your Load...

I enjoy getting naked, falling to my knees, and getting my face fucked rough and deep. We can meet at the park near my house, check each other out, and then walk to my home. I'll open the garage door, we'll have some fun, then you'll leave. Be disease free (I am) and ready for head and we may be a match. Happy to share a body pic.

I posted about 6pm and made a light dinner. Most of the trolls that replied had the typical bullshit responses; "are you available?", "when and where?", "can I suck your dick too?", etc. Around 6:30 I got a reply with some potential.

"My wife is out of town and I would love to spend some time in your garage. 60, clean cut, disease free, looking to stay very discreet. Did I mention I'm well hung and like to get verbal and dominate a submissive cocksucker? Any interest?"

My cock sprang to attention, tenting my pink panties. I emailed back, attaching a body pic of me kneeling down, headless, naked, ready for action.

"Very much interested, Sir. Here's a pic of me assuming the position..."

About 20 minutes later he responded.

"Nice. Sorry, I don't have any pics. I'm 6' tall, Irish, and my fat cock has a big mushroom head that leaks precum like a faucet. Tell me what park and we can meet and decide."

Not having a picture was always a red flag, but then again the guy was married and looking to stay off the radar. We exchanged a few more emails over the next hour and I told him the name of the park.

"I know where that is. It will take me about 10 minutes to get there. I'm just jumping in the shower and have to run a couple of errands. How about we meet by the tennis courts at 9:30pm."

Before I could chicken out, I typed "OK, see you then" and hit send. My heart was racing and I was shivering like a wet puppy dog. I was so nervous but also so excited.

About 9:15, I threw on a pair of tennis shoes, my sweat shorts over my panties, and a jacket, poured myself another scotch and went for a walk down to the park. I was shaking like a leaf, but I figured it was now or never. Hell, the guy would probably flake anyway.

Even in the rain, the lights were on at the tennis courts and I circled around behind them, approaching through the park rather than from the street. I saw a Toyota Prius pull up and park and an older guy got out. He looked around and started walking toward the courts. My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest.

He looked to be 20 pounds overweight and the kind of guy you would see at Starbucks and not think twice about; your average suburban granddad type. He had on a baseball cap, a fleece, and jeans with your typical weekend stubble on his unshaven face. Not a bad looking guy, but then again I wasn't after his looks, I was after what he had stuffed down in those Levis.

I walked down the sidewalk by the courts, trying to play it cool. We passed and I said, "Howdy."

"Cold tonight," he replied and kept walking.

The dance had begun, as I was pretty sure this was the guy.

I stopped under a tree out of the rain and waited. He circled back in a couple of minutes and walked up to me.

"Are you the guy from Craigslist?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," I replied.

"Funny, I didn't recognize you in clothes and not down on your knees," he chuckled.

That broke the ice and we chatted for a few minutes.

"So do you do this often?" he asked.

"I wish I did it more often," I admitted. "But I'm pretty new to this. And nervous as hell."

"I understand," he replied. "I've only had a couple of guys suck my cock. Not that my wife sucks me anymore, but I enjoy getting a little rough, something she would never allow me to do. Guys seem to get off on me getting rough. Do you like it rough?"

I nearly creamed my panties right there. "Yes," was all I could croak out of my froggy throat.

"Good. So, do you want to suck my cock?" he asked sternly.

I nodded affirmatively.

"Let me hear you say it," he insisted.

"I want to suck your cock. I want to be your cocksucker," I replied, barely above a whisper. Not that there was anybody around on this rainy night that would overhear me, but I could barely make my voice work I was so nervous.

"So you live nearby? You said you wanted to do it in your garage, right?" he asked.

"Yep...just up the hill," I replied.

"OK, we can get back in my car and drive up there. But first, I need to take a piss," he said, pointing towards the park restroom.

I followed him into the lighted restroom and we each took a urinal. I heard what sounded like Niagara Falls hitting the porcelain and looked over to see a huge stream of hot piss erupting from his insanely fat cockhead.

Uncontrollably, a moan escaped my mouth. I had often fantasized about receiving a golden shower, and getting pissed on by this beauty would be the equivalent of turning on a fire hose filled with hot urine. I filed that away for another day.

"See something you like boy?" he chuckled as he shook his dick dry and started shoving it back into his jeans. "Or should I say girl?" he laughed, pointing to my pink panties that were now visible above the hem of my shorts.

I'm sure I turned bright red with embarrassment. "I'll be anything you want," I managed to reply.

"What I want right now is to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and feed you a big load. Let's go," he replied.

This was finally going to happen, and this alpha stud was my wet dream come true. God, I just hoped he wasn't a psycho and planning to knock me over the head when we got back to my house and rob me. If I wasn't so nervous about being caught, I'd have dropped to my knees right there in that pubic toilet and sucked his cock.

We parked in the street and I opened the garage door.

"Close the door and strip," he commanded. "But leave those girly panties on. I'm going to make you the best damn faggot cocksucker tonight. And if you do a good job, I might let you suck me off on a regular basis."

I was in heaven. I couldn't remember my dick ever being harder, and it wasn't for a piece of pussy. It was because I was going to get my lips wrapped around a fat, throbbing, piece of manmeat. A piece of meat attached to an alpha top that was going to make me his little fucktoy. Damn, I was so happy I hadn't flaked out for a change.

"I'm going to turn on your clothes dryer," he said. "I don't want your neighbors calling the cops if they hear strange gagging noises coming from your garage," he laughed.

"Get down on your knees and crawl over here," he instructed.

I was now eye to crotch with the huge bulge in his jeans. A wet spot had formed at the end of the seemingly unreal length of his bulge. On instinct, I stuck out my tongue and licked the wetspot through the heavy denim.

"Good to see my little bitch is hungry," he chortled. "There is plenty more where that came from. I haven't gotten off in over a week and I'm going to drown your hungry mouth with what you need."

I moaned like a bitch in heat. This was going to be amazing.

"If you become my regular cocksucker, I'll feed you enough man sauce to keep you hydrated with cum," he laughed. "Since the wife doesn't want my seed and I hate jerking off, I'll save it all for you. That is if you suck cock worth a shit."

I mouthed the length of his cock through his pants, making love to the denim with my tongue.

"What do you want slut?" he barked.

"I want to suck your big dick," I replied.

"Careful what you ask for," he said as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper. "I'm gonna fuck your pie hole like a pussy."

His gorgeous fat tool plopped out of his pants and dangled like a side of beef right in front of my face. He sure didn't lie in his email about being hung. This was my lucky day and as an emerging size queen, I'd hit the jackpot tonight. My mouth was literally salivating, and my dick was soaking my panties with precum.

Lifting up his heavy dick, he pulled his balls free of his jeans. "Start slow faggot, and lick my balls."

Every time he called me "faggot" it was like an electric shock through my body. For so long I had wanted to be an alpha's faggot, and now I was finally getting my chance.

I'd heard of balls like eggs, but this was the first time I'd ever actually seen it. His sack hung down a good 5 inches, even here in my cold garage, and each nut seemed to be housed in its own bag. These were the balls of a pure bread stallion and I wanted to make his jizz boil those hot eggs. I licked his nutsack like it was made of ice cream, savoring his musky scent. I took one globe in my mouth and sucked it gently, knowing I could never stretch my jaw wide enough to take both nuts in my mouth at once. I took turns nursing each beautiful ball as his heavy cock rested on my forehead.

I could have slurped on those manly nuts for an hour, but he had other ideas.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue," he commanded.

Grabbing his meaty appendage, he gave my tongue a few heavy whacks, stopping after the last one with his plum shaped head sitting on my tongue, a heavy dollop of precum leaking out of his piss hole.

"You like that cream, slut?" he asked.

"It's delicious," I moaned. I'd never seen precum as thick as his and it had a tart, salty taste that made me want more.

Swinging his dick side to side, he gave my upturned face a few hard slaps. It was like getting slapped with a sock full of sand and it felt so slutty and submissive.

"Beg me to stick it in your mouth, bitch," he commanded.

"Please Sir, can I suck on your big, fat cock?" I groaned. "I want you to treat my mouth like a pussy and slide that long, hot pole down my throat."

"Damn fag, to look at you in the park, I had no idea you would be this big a submissive whore," he laughed. "I'm going to have some fun training your throat to take this dick to the root."

With that, he put is hand on the back of my head and pulled my face down on his pipe, several inches sliding into my mouth till his bulbous gland hit the back of my throat. I knew I could deepthroat his big dick, especially with its slightly downward bend, my hours of practicing on my collection of rubber cocks having prepared me for such an event. But his sudden thrust made me gag and I reached up with both hands to push him back.

"What's wrong pussy, can't handle a man dick?" he snorted.

"Sorry Sir," I choked out, as my coughing stopped. "I'm sure I can handle it."

"I'm not so sure, but I know I don't give a fuck. You'll be licking my balls with this tools stuffed down your throat before I'm done with you," he said.

Looking around the garage, he grabbed a bungee cord off the shelf.

"Put your hands behind your back. I don't want you pushing me away again, you understand cunt?" he barked.

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