tagGay MaleUsed For a Week Pt. 02

Used For a Week Pt. 02


"Learning My Place" - Monday & Tuesday

Read Previous Chapter here.


Driving home after my first gay experience in almost 40 years, I stopped at a park to compose myself. I was dazed and confused, but I had to admire the way William had set me up, how he had gotten me to relive our teenage fooling around, to relive me using my mouth on him. Step by step he had manipulated the evening, and had manipulated me. And while I was upset at being used, on the other hand, I wondered if William was right - was there really nothing to be ashamed at? Was what we did just physical body stuff? (And since it wasn't with a woman, did it even count as cheating on my wife. How's that for rationalizing?)

My wife. She was in bed when I got home. I showered and slipped in bed. "Did you have a good time," she asked sleepily.

"It was nice to reminisce." It was also nice to have a wild sexual experience, I wanted to tell her, since our marital sex was so plain and routine. Even intercourse was becoming more and more infrequent. As I lay there reliving my motel room fun I grew aroused. Had I really sucked his cock? And had I really been so submissive, kneeling on the floor while he called me a good cocksucker? The more I thought about the night, the stiffer my penis became. I waited until I heard my wife's gentle snores before I reached down to squeeze myself. Too turned-on to sleep, I slipped into the bathroom and masturbated.

In the morning I awoke to a text from William. I took my phone into the bathroom. "I have a busy schedule today. Meet me around 8. I'll text you later."

His audacity surprised me since. "Last night was a one time thing," I typed.

A minute later: "You enjoyed it too much to not continue..." A minute later came a text with a video link. "Look how much you enjoyed it. If anyone saw they would say you REALLY enjoyed it".

I made sure the volume was low and opened the video file. Shit, he had somehow recorded video of the previous night. And the clip he sent was carefully edited (how had he found the time?). It was all me. Me saying, "I want to feel you. Your hard-on." Me reaching over to touch him. Me saying, "I want to suck your cock." Me with my mouth on him. Me saying, "I want your cum. Please." Anyone seeing this would surely see how much I enjoyed the night.

"I take it I WILL see you tonight."

He wasn't technically blackmailing me, and yet wasn't he? My first reaction was anger. How could he do this to me? But knowing there was no way I could let wife and friends see this I had no choice. "I'll be there," I reluctantly texted.

But here's the strange thing: Once my anger and fear subsided, once I resigned myself to having no other option, I started rationalizing that it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, I actually started looking forward to the night. The night before I had had the best sex in months, even if it was with another man.

After work I hit the gym and had dinner with my wife. After seven I received a simple text. "8:30. Room 207."

"Have fun," my wife told me as I left the house. She was sitting in front of the TV, watching a news channel.

Driving over I wondered what William had planned for me. I envisioned him sucking me tonight, a little quid pro quid. But something about the terseness of the text - only the time and room number - gave me an uneasy feeling.

He greeted me at door in a white cotton robe. "I'm beat tonight. Long, rough day. I just need release so I can get a good night's sleep." He turned and walked towards the bed.

I stood there, flummoxed. There was no hello, no small talk, just a flat declaration that he needed 'release' and the assumption that I was here solely to provide it. He rolled into bed; his head found the pillow. He opened his robe and exposed his semi-erection. I was still at the door. He patted the mattress, as if prodding a puppy. "Come."

Half-stunned I approached the foot of the bed and took in the sight of him. He looked ... manly. His physique, his muscles, his hairy chest, his five o'clock stubble. He looked like someone who commanded respect, who deserved to be serviced. And his manner tonight proved his superiority over me. He acted as if I was nothing more than a servant. Who was I to disagree?

Still dazed, I knelt on the mattress. He spread his legs to give me room. I lowered myself, rested on my elbows, and gripped his cock with my right hand. Tonight I was more clear headed so I was able to fully examine his cock. I noticed the veins on the base, the smoothness on the head, a mottled scar on the underside. I noticed the different textures in different places. I tried to compare it to my own penis. And as it firmed up I used my left hand to fondle his testicles. "That feels good," he told me.

Working up a mouthful of spit, I let a long river of saliva drip down to lubricate him. Palming the base of his cock, I twisted my hand around it, back and forth, back and forth. I stroked him for about a minute before lowering my mouth on him.

What a strange situation. I was fully dressed - I still had my shoes on - and I was in bed sucking off a mostly naked 50-something-year-old man. Could I have been more submissive? I doubt it, and that was surely his intention.

Then I heard him say, "Tonight I'm going to cum in your mouth." I looked up without removing my mouth from him. "You don't have to swallow it but you're going to take it in your mouth."

I can't explain it but somehow it felt natural to take orders from him, to be told that I was going to let him cum in my mouth. Who was I? What was I becoming? But instead of thinking about this I stayed busy with the task at hand. Which was to satisfy him, to give him release. I heard him moan a few times, then I felt his hand on the back of my head. He started thrusting his groin at me. I knew what was coming. But nothing fully prepares you for the sudden eruptions in your mouth, to feel a cock pulsing through the base as cum spills out and shoots into your mouth. I tried to pull away if I wanted to but his grip on my head was tight. I tried to not breath, to not swallow. A stream slipped out of my lips. Only now could I back away enough; his cock slipped out of my mouth, another spurt of ejaculate landed on the sheets. As cum slipped out of my lips I spied a box of tissues on the nightstand. I grabbed a handful and spit out the contents of my mouth.

William smiled at me as I headed to the bathroom. Reaching it I spit more out into the sink. Only then did I finally swallow. Only then did I get my first taste of cum. To be honest, it wasn't the worst taste in the world, which was fortunate as I expected William would be 'treating' me to more.

I turned the faucet on and cupped handfuls of warm water. When I finished rinsing my mouth I wiped my face with a towel and examined myself in the mirror. As my head cleared I realized what tonight was: William had fully asserted his control over me. He was training me, teaching me my place, and preparing me for what he had planned for the rest of the week.

*** *** ***

Wednesday morning I received this text: "Wear your wife's sexiest panties. All day. I'll see you after work."

It's funny but I didn't question IF I would do this, only how I'd fulfill his request without my wife finding out. She was in bed, half awake, so I waited until she got up to pee to sneak into her panty drawer. I snatched a scarlet red silk thong from the bottom, one of the few sexy panties she owned. I felt like a guilty teenager stealing my sister's underwear (yes, I had done that decades ago). Hearing the toilet flush I hurriedly shut the drawer. My heart raced as I hid the underwear and passed my wife in the hallway. She gave me a sleepy kiss and I stepped into the bathroom.

I shaved and showered, toweled myself off, then stood under the bright LED lighting. I felt a tingle of excitement as I slipped the underwear on. My wife isn't a small woman, so her large thong fit, although the edges of my testicles hung out the sides. I tucked in my penis and examined myself in the mirror. Since my body isn't overly 'manly' I didn't look as ridiculous as you might think. And since I have a bit of a panty fetish this was a big turn-on for me (a fetish my wife wasn't one to understand much less indulge). Patting the back of my butt I felt the panty's fabric against my ass. It was a secret thrill I would have all day at work.

Secret thrills: stealing into the panty drawer, hiding my actions from my wife, the feel of the thong along my ass crack. It was exciting to be doing this, especially since my wife and I had had settled into a relatively plain vanilla sex life. And I felt something else: Arousal at submitting to William, of giving him sexual control over me; I was living out some of the femdom/maledom pornography I occasionally viewed.

Before noon William texted asking for proof. Sneaking into the men's room I found a stall, dropped my trousers, and snapped a picture of my soft bulge encased in scarlet fabric. For good measure I snapped a picture of my backside in the thong. A minute later he texted, "Now a picture of you hard." That was easy to provide. I rubbed myself through the soft fabric. Once my erection formed, I snapped and sent a dick pic. His response: "Very good. See you after work." It took all my willpower to resist bringing myself to orgasm.

"Another night with William?" my wife asked when I headed out at seven o'clock.

"He's in town until Saturday," I explained. By now I expected to be seeing - and serving - William every night this week.

He greeted me at his motel door, barefoot, wearing lounge pants and a white robe. "This is great," he said. "What we're doing. I mean, sex with my wife is great, but there are things I wouldn't dream of doing with her."

I was afraid to ask just what else he had in store for me. Instead I asked, "Are you... dominant with her?"

He chuckled. "No, no. She's a strong woman."

Unlike me, who was subservient, submissive, easily controlled. For example, I remained standing near the door awaiting instructions. Which came as soon as he plopped himself onto the bed. He stared at me standing in front of him (like a slave on the auction block) . "Now... Take off your shirt."

I felt funny and self-conscious, but I tugged my shirttails out of my pants. Under his gaze I slowly unbuttoned the shirt, then let it fall to the floor. When he said, "Shoes and socks," I removed them as well. Last but not least was my trousers, which I unsnapped, unzipped and let fall to my ankles. He stared at me a long time, aware what his gaze was doing to me. "Turn around," he ordered.

With my back to him I stared at the door. "I feel kind of-"

"This isn't about you," he told me, cutting me off. I noticed that his demeanor had changed. He had slipped into a more authoritative role.

I stood like that for a minute or more, until I heard him get off the bed. When he was standing behind me he placed his hands on my shoulders - one was warm, the other cold from holding the beer. "But you follow orders well, so I won't have to punish you..." He ran his hands down my back, his fingernails tingling my skin, then over my ass cheeks. He pinched me hard. "Or would you like that? Getting punished?"

Even though the thought excited me I shook my head.

A hand found my stomach, pulling me backwards, closer to his body. Then he reached up and tweaked my right nipple, then the left, squeezing them, pulling them to the point of pain. His hand trailed upwards over my chest and gripped my throat tightly, scaring me. "I think you would enjoy getting punished." He turned me around to face him and pointed at my growing erection. "Just as you enjoy wearing panties."

I looked down. Sure enough, my manhood announced my pleasure.

"You look pretty," he laughed, a taunt really. He reached over to palm my erection, getting me even harder. Then he backed away and sat on the edge of the bed. "I want you in panties the rest of the week," he said as he indicated for me to approach.

He had me turn around and when my back was to him he reached for something on the bed. I then felt him pull the thong strap aside and felt a cold, wet glob of lube on my asshole. I breathed in and held my breath, nervous. (I was never into ass play, and hated the one prostate exam I received a year ago.) But fortunately he just dipped the tip of his finger inside me, barely probing me. It didn't hurt at all. It felt good, even when he slipped his finger in about an inch more.

He extracted his finger and wiped it on the thong. Then he stood up and positioned me to lean over the bed. From the nightstand he took out a long pink thing. "Have you ever used beads before?" I shook my head when I saw him holding pink anal beads. "Relax. You're going to enjoy this."

The first small bead slipped easily inside me. It actually felt great, a little cold but tingly. Then the second slightly larger bead, followed by the third, fourth and fifth. It was the sixth bead that stretched me, that mixed pleasure and pain. As if sensing this was my pressure point, William pulled the bead out. Then he popped it back in. He then slid out three beads, then back in, out and in, out and in. "It's like I'm fucking you with a tiny cock..."

Then came the seventh and eight beads, each one stretching my sphincter a little more, each bead causing a little pain, each bead filling me up another half inch. For the ninth bead I held my breath and flinched in pain. He paused to give my time to adjust. He took his time with the tenth and final bead. God, it hurt as he started to push it in. "Push out," he instructed, and although I tried I didn't and instead braced myself.

"This is hot," he said under his breath. "Fucking your ass."

I wondered if that gave him other ideas and prayed it wasn't something else he would try before the week's end.

When the final bead popped inside me, I felt my sphincter clinch around it. "You're going to love this later," he promised, as he gave my ass cheek a slap. "But first..." He grabbed my shoulder to pull me up from the bed, then pressed me into a kneeling position. It didn't take long for him to pull his pants down and get his cock out. And it didn't take me long to hold it in my hand and place my mouth upon it. "Tonight you're going to swallow cum," he told me.

I stopped sucking. "I'll try," I said before resumed fellating him.

"Not try. You will."

There I was, kneeling on the floor, wearing my wife's thong, anal beads inserted up my ass, my hand and mouth on William's cock, fully enjoying every second of this crazy scene. I could never had imagined this before Sunday night, and yet it oddly felt ... natural. Such was William's skill at controlling me, of knowing just how and when to prod me further.

I worked his cock with both hands, stroking the base, fondling his balls, while my mouth licked and sucked, getting him closer to orgasm. His declaration that tonight I would swallow cum scared me; I wasn't ready for that. And when I sensed him ready to cum I tried to back away, but immediately found his hands on the back of my head. Seconds later his cock erupted, filling my mouth with warm fluid, shocking me. I wanted to keep it and swallow, but my body instinctively rejected that notion. My mouth opened, cum spilled out, and when his grip on my head eased I pulled away and spit out onto bed's comforter.

"I'm sorry," I said, truly feeling guilty. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, tasting the cum in my mouth, afraid to run into the bathroom to rinse out my mouth. I looked up at him; he stared down at me, shaking his head. I reached over for his softening cock. A dribble of cum was on the tip, and when I squeezed the base more came out. I leaned over and took the head of his cock in my mouth, slurping up the small amount of cum, a taste I was getting used to. (I can't say I enjoyed the taste, but it was tolerable.) When I pulled away, I looked up and swallowed dramatically, proving that I did indeed swallow cum.

"That doesn't count." He reached down, offering his hand to pull me up. He pointed to the bed. "Lay down. On your back."

I scooted onto the bed, my head on the pillow. When had my cock popped out of the top of the panty? And I was so aroused - my cock was leaking pre-cum - and was excited to see him place his hands on my thighs. Was he going to pleasure me, for a change? He told me close my eyes, then he rolled the underwear off me. "Tell me when you're about to cum." His hands took hold of me and gave me some tantalizing sexual sensations. He was skilled. He edged me once, then backed off when I announced that I was ready. Then more stroking, getting me even closer.

"I'm going to cum," I told him, and only then did I feel his mouth on my cock. He wrapped his lips around the head of it. While one hand stroked the base the other tugged that last large anal bead out of my ass. It was a mix of pain in my backside with pleasure in my cock. As he pulled two more beads out, his hand stroked faster. Then he began ass-fucking me with the middle beads, as his hand jacked me off, and it was too much, I started cumming, still feeling the beads sliding in and out, sending ripples of intense pleasure in my ass.

I lay there dazed. My eyes closed, my ass empty though sore, my cock softening in William's mouth. I had to catch my breath. My mind was racing, my emotions a whirl. I felt my cock slip out of William's mouth and his body move away from me. I tried to still my breathing, to clear my head, to wait for the intensity to diminish.

And then, suddenly he was on top of me. His hands firmly gripped my head in place. I panicked. I opened my eyes. What the hell was he doing? He lowered his mouth on mine. I tried to move my head away, but he was much stronger than me and his grip on my head was firm. I tried to keep my lips tightly shut but his tongue pried into my mouth. His tongue thrust through my lips, and when my lips opened my mouth was flooded with a mix of my cum and his saliva, a river of sticky fluids. I wanted to spit it out but he replaced his lips with his hand, covered my mouth his palm. He was going to force me to swallow.

Resistance was futile. And in a minute or so I did it, I gulped once, twice, gagging, but not retching, not throwing up. Earlier he had told me that I was going to swallow cum tonight. He had been right.

He finally moved off me. He took my wife's thong on the bed and used it to wipe his cock, then tossed it on my naked chest. Without a word he headed to the bathroom. I sat up. I tried to collect my thoughts but there were too many and too many conflicting feelings for any reasoning now. Instead I gathered my clothes. As William turned on the shower, I dressed quickly and headed out the door. Soon I was in my car, driving home, still wearing my wife's panties, my ass tingling, a hint of cum on my breath. In just three nights I had learned my place - I had become William's personal cocksucker...

End of Chapter Two

Note: This is fictional story and is Copyright (c) 2018 by MRALX99. You may not copy or use it for any commercial purpose.

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