Start of the Journey

I combined the two parts with some editing. Let me know if it makes the cut...

"Please stop texting me. We are over. Why can't you just move on like I did. You're such a fucking loser!"

Those words from her last message were burned cruelly into my memory. Closing my eyes, I could still see her face vividly, remembering every imperfection perfectly. But her last message to me were devoid of any warmth or feelings. Reading it, one would never have guessed that we had spent two years together as a couple. That I had loved her, and still continue to love her, even after the humiliation she put me through.

And, now in retrospect, it seems like it was all a fucking show on her part. Free board and room for her while she fucked around to her hearts content. Only now, after the objectivity had been stripped from the memories, does it makes sense that it always felt as if I was the only one who put my heart and soul into our happiness. Sending flowers. Messaging her to say I miss her. Only after the soul crushing humiliation did all the pieces of her twisted puzzle fit together.

How could she kiss me in the evenings after sucking off another guy? How callous did she have to be to climb into our bed at night while still leaking cum from her fuck session earlier at work.

The longing and crippling feeling of loss was slowly merging into an ice cold numbness. Almost as if I had injected Novocaine directly into my heart. Her last message managed to turn the love I felt for her into a black void filled with hatred. But even against my better judgment, there were still specks of hope which flared up every now and then, briefly illuminating the void.

The only inkling I ever had of what a coniving bitch she was, was when she sent a message two weeks ago, just before lunch, saying she will be moved out by the time I got home from work. Nothing more. And all her things were gone when I got home. Exacerbating the humiliation even further, she had left all the jewellery and other gifts I had ever given her in a small pile in the middle of the bed.

She didn't reply to my frantic texts or calls. When I went to her offices, I was told I am not allowed in, and if I persisted they would call the police. And she must have used the basement parking to avoid me waiting outside her offices. Only after a week did her BFF take pity on me and told me she had been dating her manager for the last six months.

"Fuck her and fuck this!" I screamed into the darkness filling my head. Reaching for my mobile on the nightstand, I flick through to one of the dating apps I had downloaded.

"Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!" I continue screaming into the darkness. Swipe left. Swipe right. Most times I swipe left as the girls closest to me just want happiness and an upstanding guy. Someone from your typical romcom. And all I want to do is fuck. Fuck without regret. Blow my load, get dressed and go on with my life. To try and forget and move onto the next one.

Swipe left. Swipe left. I groan and fling the phone next to me on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was tormenting myself with thoughts of her having sex at the moment, when my phone pinged softly to notify me about a message received. Without moving my eyes from the ceiling, I reached for the phone again and brought the screen to life. A message from a dating app. Opening the app, I go to the messages.

Mark (56 M) sent you a message.

WTF! Mark? A guy? I roll onto my stomach and open it.

"Hey sweet cheeks. Came across your profile and am guessing from your terse description of yourself, you seem to have had a breakup recently. Nice picture though. Can I share a little secret? Get laid. Doesn't matter who or what. Just blow your load with someone, and it will get easier."

Furious I type my reply, angry about the fact that he had guessed my situation so easily and feeling even more like a loser in the process. Does he go around offering unsolicited advice to guys on dating sites.

"Listen Mark. If I wanted advice from an old fart like you, I would've gone to my dad. I'm 23 and a GUY, and you're 56, and a GUY. If you want, I can recommend a few gay dating apps."

Feeling pumped up with my witty reply, I rolled onto my back again, waiting for his pissed off response, if at all. And feeling even more shitty for being hit on by an older guy. Well, I think I was being hit upon. My phone pings again, notifying me of a reply

Picture Received

A picture? I open the message and feel the warm blood flooding my face. There, on my phone screen and in all its glory, was a picture of a hard cock. Foreskin rolled back. Cock head swollen to a dark, glossy purple with a moist looking slit. My face feels like it was a beacon in the dark room. Besides my cousin a couple of years back, I've never seen another guy's hard cock. Ok, porn doesn't count. You don't interact with those people. So, it doesn't feel personal. Or intimate. Or as wrong as looking at this picture does.

As I tap the reply box to tell him that I'd be reporting him, I make a startling discovery. My own cock is rock hard inside my sweatpants. It's hard from looking at another guy's cock. A much older guy. As I lay there trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, another message arrived from him.

"It doesn't matter if you fuck or get fucked, just as long as you blow your load and have fun. That's the first step to getting over a breakup. So, here's the deal. I stay alone, and according to this app you're about 10 minutes away from me. Here's my location pin and mobile number. Pop in if you are curious about moving on or just want to have NSA fun without anyone knowing. Mark"

A location pin pops onto my screen followed by his mobile number. As I toss the phone onto the bed and hurry to the bathroom to look in the mirror, I try to make sense of this feeling of excitement. Albeit a sinful excitement. An extremely naughty excitement. Like I'm going to do something which I should never have even contemplated of doing. Committing a mortal sin.

My emotions are in such a turmoil, that I don't even notice my hand inside my sweatpants, stroking my swollen cock. Am I really that fucked up at the moment or did his picture open the door to another side of me which I didn't know existed, a door I had kept closed without even knowing. Was she right? Am I a loser? Either way, I was fucking horny at that moment in time, and as a plus, my mental state was of the opinion that my ex could go fuck herself. Turning away from the mirror, I remove my hand from my sweatpants and look down at the sticky tendrils of precum between my fingers.

Picking up my phone from the bed, I turn it to stare at his cock again. A tight feeling manifests in my chest, something I haven't experienced in a very long time. Anticipation. A yearning feeling for something. Loneliness. Lost in thought, I ask myself if I would be able to touch his cock or even suck it. A random stranger. A male stranger. Which were much older. As if flipping a mental switch in my head, I slip on a hoodie and sneakers without contemplating my future actions any further. Hurrying down the stairs to the apartment parking, I get in my car and open the pin location to get directions. I start the car and join the late traffic. Off on a hookup with a guy. A new low for me.

The disinterested robotic voice from my phone informed me that I had arrived at my destination. Realisation of what I'm about to do causes my nerves to start acting up. But my cock is hard inside my sweatpants again. Throbbing. Leaking precum. With a shaky hand I dial his number and listen to the ringing. His voice, when he answered, made me jump in my seat.

"Mark hello."

"Uhm, hi Mark" I suddenly realised I never told him my name and had used an alias for my profile. So, I act on instinct and just blubber away like a complete idiot.

"It's uhm, its sweet cheeks here. You, uhm, said I should come over if I needed to move on." I slowly exhale "or want to have fun?" Forgetting to breath altogether, my world is focused on his reply.

"Yeah, come on in. I'll open up." His deep voice somehow dispel almost all of my misgivings in coming here, and I slowly drive up to his house. Keeping the switch off in my head before my sanity could take over the lead from my horny state, I get out of the car and walk, trance like, up to his door. Light falls upon me as the front door opens and I slowly look up at Mark.

Tall. He is taller than my 5'7" by a head. He is lean for his age. No beer belly on his frame. He wears stylish glasses. Clean shaven. More grey hair visible than his natural black hair. Fuzzy chest. Not like a primate or something. Just enough. The corner of my mouth slowly lifts in a sardonic little smile as I realise I had a preference when it came to chest hair. Who knew?

He's wearing shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt. Planted apart, his legs were muscular. The legs of an athlete. My eyes travel up and briefly rests on the quite noticeable bulge in the front of his shorts. For the second time that night I feel my face light up with a heavy blush. WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with me?

Realizing that I've been staring without saying a word, I look up to meet his eyes. Unsurprisingly, he had also been ogling me. The look of approval on his face at what he was seeing causes my cock to start hardening in my sweatpants again.

My hardening cock caused me to glance down again at the front of his shorts, and that tight feeling in my chest makes itself known again. His bulge had definitely grown since I last looked at it. And that was all of three seconds ago. His cock, now visible through the thin material of his shorts, was lying to the side. It was much thicker and longer than when I first looked, and it seemed to be growing stiffer by the second.

Mouth dry, I try to swallow through a suddenly parched throat. Two hours ago, I was your typical straight guy, my heart broken by a bitch ex. A female ex, like most of my friends. I had thought that only beautiful women could have this effect on me. And here I am, staring at a guy's cock growing hard in his shorts because of me.

Mark reached out, taking my hand in his, which hung limply at my side and gently pulled me inside his house. With a soft click of the latch, he closes the door behind me. Without warning he places his hands on either side of my face and tilts it up before lowering his mouth towards mine. My mind screams at me to push him away, turn around and get the fuck out of there. But what do I do? I lean into the kiss, mouth slightly open and yearn for it deep inside me.

The surrealistic sensation of another man's mouth on mine electrified my nerve endings. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his stubble, it all felt so familiar and yet unreal. While still revelling in my first male kiss, he thrusts his tongue deep into my mouth. Not gently like a lover's kiss, but forcing his tongue into my mouth, hunting for mine. My mind goes blank, my cock leaking precum and staining my underwear.

Breaking the kiss, Mark places his hand on my shoulders and gently, but forcefully, pushes me down to my knees. For his slender size he was quite strong, and I obliged and sank down, knowing what was to come. His right-hand snakes behind my head and pushes my face against his crotch. With my face pushed up against his bulging pants front, his musky cock smell fills my nostrils. Even the smell of his cock was familiar, as I loved the smell of my own cock, having a habit of running a hand down my pants and sliding my thumb under my foreskin before lifting it to my nose. Maybe subconsciously I was into cock all along?

My train of thought gets interrupted when he slides his cock out of the side of his shorts, rubbing his precum over my lips, while still holding the back of my head. I tentatively run my tongue over the sticky substance covering my lips and the taste didn't shock me at all.

I was in a state of total arousal, any conscious thought buried beneath an avalanche of lust. A lust for the thickening cock right in front of my face. The glossy, purple cock head was swollen with its own need to be pleasured, to be sucked upon and the foreskin was rolled back behind it. The length surprises me. The photo Mark sent me earlier didn't do his cock justice at all.

Watching his cock pulse almost imperceptibly, I reach out and close my hand around it. Quite bigger than mine. Soft, yet hard, just like my own cock. I pull the skin further back, causing his cock head to swell even more. Another whiff of his musk fills my nostrils. Without any conscious thought I lean forward and run my tongue over the leaking slit.

His precum felt warm on my tongue, and the slightly salt taste made me flatten my tongue and run it over his cock head again, yearning for another taste. Pressure from his hand behind my head forced his fully hardened cock slowly into my mouth, stopping me from continuing my first cock taste experience.

Mark held my head still, my mouth filled with his cock, while I got used to his size and taste. Finally, I pulled back my head and gasped when his cock popped out of my mouth with strings of saliva attached to the glistening head. My eyes watered, but I wanted to taste his cock again. Wanted to feel it pulse with his heartbeat in my mouth.

A sudden thought flashed through my head. What would my ex think if she saw me now? Would she be surprised? Outraged? I didn't have time to complete the thought as Mark slowly forced his cock into mouth again, going a little deeper than last time. My gag reflex kicked in and I almost chocked myself blue in the face.

Mark had his eyes closed while running his cock over my lips, giving me time to regain my composure. That simple gesture made me feel like an absolute slut and I rose up from my kneeling position and started unfastening my pants. With a devilish grin, Mark walked over to a comfortable chair and sat down to watch me strip while stroking his wet cock.

Hopping on one leg, I pulled of my sneakers and finally my sweatpants. Looking him in the eye and returning his devilish smile, I turned around and bent over forward, before lowering my boxers. Intuitively knowing that my next act would turn him on even more, I slowly reaching behind with both hands and I spread my ass cheeks apart. While exposing my most private place to his eyes, a guttural groan escaped Mark's lips, causing me to touch my own swollen cock. Turning around, I walked up to him in the chair, my cock bobbing in front of me and slowly kneeled again between his spread legs.

Staring into his eyes, I slowly run my tongue over his large balls, which were hanging down between his spread legs. Mark increased the pace of stroking his cock, while I gently took one of his balls into my mouth and ran my tongue all over it.

"Turn around and show me that ass again" he grunted with the effort of stroking his cock.

Getting up, I turned my back to him, before reaching for and spreading my ass cheeks. Another loud groan made me look over my shoulder just in time to see him shooting cum all over his belly and chest. Thick ropes of glistening cum covered all the way up to his chin and some of it was running over his hand which tightly gripped his cock.

It was one of the most erotic sights I have ever witnessed. And I was the cause of it happening. I turned around to him before kneeling between his spread legs. Replacing his hand with my own around his cock, I continued stroking the last bit of cum out. It ran over my thumb which encircled his engorged cock, and I watched in fascination as it slowly joined the little pool of cum in his bellybutton.

"Holy fuck! I needed that! Just give me a few minutes sweet cheeks, and we will get to the fun part" he said in a husky, strained voice.

Mark's heavy breathing slowly started to return to normal, and with that, his cock twitched and hardened in my hand. Not bad for a guy who just covered himself in cum. But in that short respite of his recovery, while slowly stroking and squeezing his cock, my conscience began to reassert itself. Shame began to fill my horny mind, causing me to look down in shock at what deeds I had done with another man. I had to get out. I had to get away. This couldn't go any further.

Smiling with my mouth only, I got up from my kneeling position, while absentmindedly noticing how his thick cock was lying on his stomach. My mind screamed at me to get out, to flee, and a panic slowly started to form in me. I wiped my sticky hand, covered in his cum, on my shirt and picked up my phone. Flicking the screen to life, I forced a look of surprise onto my face.

"Sorry. I had my phone on silent and didn't hear my sister phone." I fidgeted with the phone some more, pretending to start a call.

"Hey." I mock phoned and made as if I was listening to someone talking on the other side.

"Sure, no problem. I'll be right there. See you now." Looking over at where Mark was busy cleaning himself up with a towel he had found out of nowhere, I said softly

"I must go. Family issues and I'm needed. Sorry about this." Bending down to gather my discarded clothing and starting to get dressed, I was frantic to leave and get back to my own place. Pulling on my sweatpants, I noticed my cock was still rock hard and that my cock head was glistening with precum.

"No problem sweet cheeks." Mark seemed a bit perplexed at my sudden departure. "Maybe come around later or tomorrow after work if you have a chance. I still want to fuck that ass of yours." He smiled at me when he said that, and my heart skipped a beat or three. Those three missing beats went straight to my cock, and I knew I was leaking precum again. Images filled my head of having that cock slide into my ass, and only with a supreme effort of will did I clear my mind of those sinful images.

"I-I will let you know." I stuttered while tying my sneaker.

Tying the other sneaker, I rose, and was surprised that Mark was standing right in front of me, not having noticed him moving. His cock was engorged again, and the dark purple cock head flared with need.

"Why do I always notice his cock head?" I asked myself irrelevantly. Looking at that cock, one would've never guessed he had exploded cum all over himself less than ten minutes ago.

With him so close and his cock touching me, my resolve started to waver. The musky scent wafted up from his cock trapped between us as I felt his hand under my chin, lifting my face up. He seemed so in control of everything. He leant forward and slipped his tongue into my mouth, and with that my resistance started to crumble under his probing tongue.

But my conscience made one last ditched effort, and I fidgeted with the volume buttons on my phone, causing my phone to ring. His had his tongue still deep in my mouth, and slowly I pulled away, realizing with a shock that my free hand was wrapped around his stiff cock, stroking even more life back into it.

"I-I must go. See-see you soon." And with that, my lips still wet from his kiss, I let go of his cock and turned around. I opened the front door, and without looking back, walked over to my car. With a shaking hand, the car started, and I backed down his driveway. Only as I turned onto the road, did I glance up and notice him standing in the doorway, his cock visible even at that distance. He was waving at me.

"Fuck, I hope I don't know anyone from around here." My mind was stating as an afterthought. Without waving back, I stepped on the gas and shot down the street, hoping everyone was asleep in close vicinity to his house. And vowing never to comeback. Agitated, I wiped my hand across my face, the lingering smell of his cock still on my skin.

It's been more than two weeks since my illicit meeting with Mark. And in that time my feelings were on a rollercoaster from hell. It alternated between being eaten up by guilt at the things I have done to another man. And between wanting to go back so badly and experiencing him fucking my ass like he said he wanted to. But atleast the numbing loss of my breakup was less painful to bear. And all thanks to my fascination with Mark's magnificent cock. It was a wonder I didn't get fired from my job during that time, because my mind was in another dimension. Even my family was getting concerned, so I avoided them as best I could.