I had thoughts, sexual thoughts, of being with a man since way back when. If I was honest with myself I would admit having some thoughts of it as an adolescent. The feelings grew stronger as I got older. I knew that a friend from university was gay and other friends had told me he had a crush on me. As I reached my mid twenties I thought about contacting him just so I could engineer some kind of opportunity to act out some of my thoughts. I never got round to it. My thoughts remained just that, thoughts.
So, what were my thoughts? Well I fantasised about giving another man a blowjob. I did not find men attractive per se. I did not want to do anything else with a man. Did not particularly fantasise about being blown by a guy. It was the thought of sucking a man's penis that got me incredibly turned on. More turned on than anything else I had ever fantasised about.
Those thoughts were with me for a number of years. Eventually I discovered chatrooms on the internet and this caused an explosion (in more ways than one!). I began to have cyber sex. That does not do it justice. I became addicted to cyber sex. I would take every opportunity to go online and share my fantasies with other guys. This exploration continually surprised me. I could not believe how excited I became when I pretended to have sex with guys as we swapped accounts of what we would do to each other.
Over time I started to have regular sessions with the same guy, Rob. He was a gay guy, about the same age as me and took things nice and slow with me. He knew exactly my situation. Perhaps I should explain it to you as well. I was married. Nobody knew about this side of me and nobody could ever know.
Time and time again I chatted to Rob. Describing to him what I wanted to do to him. With him. Getting incredibly turned on as we chatted about it. Masturbating simultaneously with him as we typed. We shared countless orgasms.
One day as we chatted, as we told each other how turned on we were, as we described our state of arousal, he asked me to send him a photograph. I had always needed the anonymity of the internet but the thought of showing myself to him was overwhelming. With a little persuasion I agreed. Using a digital camera I took a snap of my erect cock and sent it to him. I had found something that took my enjoyment of this to a whole new level. I confess I bombarded him with photographs of my hard on. From all sort of angles. Never anything that would identify myself. Just my cock and balls.
In due course Rob told me he wanted to hear me cum. He repeatedly asked me to have phonesex with him. I refused. This was a step too far. Rob would wait until he knew I was close to cumming, after I had sent him photographs of my dripping cock and when I had told him I was getting close to shooting, and would then ask me to call him. "It would be so sexy," he would type. He would cajole and encourage.
Eventually I was seduced by the idea of it. I set myself some rules. I would call him. I would withhold my number. Nothing could go wrong.
Nothing did go wrong. He was right. We began by typing out our fantasies to each other in our usual instant messaging service. I sent him some pictures. Then he asked me to call him. This time I gave in and told him my rules. With my jeans and underwear pulled down we had phonesex that afternoon. As he whispered his dirty talk to me I had a powerful orgasm and listened as Rob moaned his way through his own climax.
I was hooked.
It is no exaggeration to say that we continued to regularly engage in this illicit correspondence. I played a little hard to get when it came to his suggestions of phonesex. I pretended to get coy and bashful. The truth was I lived for those sessions. The more we did this the more I knew how much I craved this exciting, taboo sexual contact.
I made the next decision. I wanted it for real. I wanted him for real. Surprisingly he was more reluctant to actually meet. In the throes of our masturbatory chat I would talk about meeting up. I made it clear I really meant it. He would never make those final arrangements.
Then one day he said he was going to be visiting some friends near to where I lived. He asked if I wanted to meet him in a car park, just to say hello. Despite this being what I wanted the thought of meeting did fill me with dread. Here I was, a married man in my late thirties who had only ever dabbled in having some sort of virtual sex with a man. I was able to overcome my conservative reluctance as we were meeting on a Sunday afternoon in a relatively public place.
At the appointed time I arrived in the car park. He had told me the make of his car and that he would stand next to it. I could see he had parked in the most remote area, away from other cars. I pulled alongside him and he immediately got into my car.
"Hi," he said, "good to finally put a face to the cock..."
It made me smile. It was still a bit weird. I was used to sexual encounters with women who I found attractive. I did not find him attractive. And yet my cock was hard just by meeting him.
We made small talk for ten minutes. Mainly discussing how strange it was to finally meet after sharing such intimate moments together. Out of the blue he told me that he was not disappointed at all by the reality. I was a man he could "fancy".
I did not have time to be flattered. As soon as he had said that he leant over and kissed me. I was not expecting that. I had never really wanted to kiss a man. His face felt rough against mine. He had a good, clean scent about him. And then his tongue entered my mouth and I found myself willingly snogging another man.
He broke off the kiss and spoke.
"I need to see your cock," he said and simultaneously rubbed the bulge in my trousers.
He undid my zip. My iron hard dick was exposed. It was still tucked inside my trousers but pressed against the opening. I heard him moan appreciatively and then he rubbed his finger against my exposed flesh. I watched him run his finger along my flesh in total rapture. The sight of a man touching my cock was thrilling, even if the touching was fleeting.
He kissed me again. This time I reached over and felt his bulge. There was no mistaking his arousal. I did not unbutton his jeans but just caressed and squeezed his hard on through the material.
If this carried on then things were going to get too much for a car park in broad daylight. We both seemed to realise it and broke off the kiss. I was pressed right back in my seat, Rob's eyes did not leave my open fly.
Almost in a whisper said, "I want you to be my cocksucker."
He knew from our chats that being called his cocksucker turned me on. That was why I had spoken to him in the first place, because of my desire to suck cock. There was no prospect of me sucking him there and then. I was taking huge risks but that would have been too far.
We arranged I would go to his place soon and with that he left me alone in the car. My flies still open. My mind whirling with lustful thoughts.