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Fantasies are easy. And it’s easy to pretend that they aren’t real.

Especially for me. I’ve always found a safe space for my fantasies, and I don’t let them intrude on the rest of my life. That’s the nice thing about porn. You log in online, browse what you want. Link to the next video, and it goes on and on and on. Before you know it, you’re stroking to things you never thought you were into.

But nobody needs to know. Right? It’s just you and your porn. In the dark. In a quiet house. Your friends have no idea. And not your wife. Especially not the wife!

I don’t know when I discovered chat rooms. They were creepy, right? And skeezy. And I’d heard that it was middle aged guys pretending to be 19 year old girls. And yet, in the middle of the night I found myself browsing chat rooms and seeing what the big deal was. Sadly, there weren’t a lot of sorority girls in those rooms looking to chat with middle aged married guys. Not a big surprise. But there are a good set of guys sharing their fantasies anonymously. And sharing pics. Sometimes pics of their girlfriends or wives – or maybe someone they were just saying was their girl. You kind of have to assume everything online is a lie.

But it got me off. And strangely, even though everything was a lie, it got me off more than just just watching some video. Because even if the dude was a liar, there was something real about he and I sharing our fantasies and trading pics of hot women.

And deep down, I knew part of the fantasy was that he and I were both stroking at the same time to the same porn. We both had our pants around our ankles (if we were wearing any to begin with), with our hands around our cocks, imagining that we were the ones doing that sexy slut.

Me: “Hey man, she’s fucking hot isn’t she?”

Him: “Yah, I like titties like that and how they flop around.”

Me: “Really? Do you like fake one’s too?”

Him: “Whatever, right? Tits are tits. You ever cum on a big pair of fake tits?”

Me: “Nope, but I would. I’ve thought about it.”

Him: “You thinking about it now, bud? You thinking about cumming?”

Me: “Oh god yes. I think I’m getting close. I think I’m going to cum on her.”

Him: “Cum on her man. Cum when I do. Blow that big load on her big fake tits. Cum with me.”

I couldn’t help but stroke my cock harder. Imagining me and this unnamed stranger standing over this porn star, stroking our cocks ready to aim for her boobs. We were both stroking at the same time. I knew it and he knew it. I was getting hotter and hotter. Harder and harder.

Me: “I’m close dude. I’m going to cum on her. You ready?”

Him: “I’m so fucking ready. I was just waiting for you to cum. Cum for me buddy. Cum.”

“Uuuhhhhhhhhhh. Fuckkkkkkkkkk.” I came, spurt after spurt, but not on this fantasy woman but all over my belly and hand. My cum covering me. Brought back to reality for the moment.

Him: “Man, did you cum? Was it a big load? Tell me about it. We came all over that slut, didn’t we? Did you want to lick it off of her with me?”

What? No! Do what? Log off.

What was with that guy? Why would he think I’d want to do that? Chat rooms are not for me. Keep to the porn, and avoid the closeted gay guys in the chat rooms, I promised myself.

But I couldn’t keep the promise. The same story in different formats would play out night after night in chat rooms. My wife asleep in the other room as I participated in virtual mutual masturbation with strangers from somewhere around the planet. Not always, but inevitably, the man would be more interested in me than the porn. How big was my cock? What did my body look like? Did we want to trade pictures? At first I’d ignore the request. Sometimes I’d just say no. Or I’d log out. But I started not wanting the guy to leave. We’d get momentum talking about fantasies and then he’d say something gay, and I’d go with it because I wanted to cum and I knew cumming with him would be fun. And it wasn’t really gay, right?

I started to be able to see the signs of the guys who were actually more into cock than into women. They’d upload pictures of girls giving blow jobs to big dicks. Pretty faces covered in cum. I’d want to talk about the girl, but they would start talking about the cock. Eventually they’d say something like “I can’t help getting turned on by cocks like that.” And I’d say, it’s not really my thing, I’m straight. And they’d say something like, “So am I, I just like looking at big cocks. I don’t want to date a guy or kiss him or anything.”

That started making sense. Like really making sense. Porn was always sexier with a cock involved. Like a pussy is hotter filled with dick, right? A woman on her knees giving a blow job makes that woman way sexier. No one can deny that. Doesn’t make a difference who the guy is as long as there’s a big dick.

I stopped worrying about it. If a guy wanted to perv on me, there was no big deal. And I could acknowledge a sexy dick when it was fucking or getting sucked. No one would know. No one needed to know. What happened on the internet anonymously was my business alone.

And it was şişli bayan escort anonymous. These chatrooms were from all over the world. No one needed to know.

There was one especially good chat room. It was called Circle Jerk. I got the reference. I’d never jerked off with a friend and certainly had never touched another guys cock before. But it had the sort of pictures and interactions that I was used to. And no fake-ass sorority girls who were actually 60-year-old grandpas. It was just guys who liked to look at pictures together and jack off. All the pics tended to have cocksucking and fucking, although there was occassionally a sexy solo pic of a woman, or even hot lesbians. And the screennames kind of told you what you were in for if you private messaged someone. Some names were straight up: “Paul,” “Jazzy.” Others were suggestive: “44 NYC F 4 Fun” or “jerking at home” or “bi in Cal” or “8 inches 4 ur wife.” I tried not to have a regular screenname myself. Change it often so that I can always be new. “46 m,” “tall and horny,” “cali king.”

“Cali King” was kind of a favorite. There was always someone that was impressed about California and assumed I was in Santa Monica on the beach, and they were disappointed when they found I was just in a boring Northern California suburb.

Him: “Hey, where u at stud?”

Me: “California.”

Him: “Me too, cool. Santa Ana here. U?”

Me: “Roseville”

Him: “Where?”

Me: “It’s near Sacramento.”

Him: “Cool. later.”

It’s like, what the fuck. Why dismiss me like that? It’s not like I’d meet up with a guy I met in a chat room. Let’s just compare dick pics, fantasize about women, and jerk off. But I guess some guys actually think guys would meet up on here. It just ain’t going to happen.

Nights on the computer usually included some kind of alcohol. A Seven and Seven. Maybe a beer. Whisky straight up. I found myself saving my loads so I can cum in chat. Maybe I was getting addicted to it. I don’t know. It was hot and it was fun. I’d start in a room that was mostly female pictures, and as I got hornier, I’d move to another more bi-friendly room like Circle Jerk.

44DWM: Hey, asl?

CaliKing: 46 m cali.

44DWM: You married? Divorced?

CaliKing: Married.

44DWM: I’m in NorCal. Folsom.

CaliKing: Oh. I’m in Roseville. Not too far away.

44DWM: You like this room?

CaliKing: I like the pics. I like the guys in here. I mean not “like like” the guys. I mean they are good guys to chat with and we like the same sort of porn.

44DWM: Don’t worry bud. I’m straight too. Never done anything with a guy. Just like this room.

CaliKing: Me neither. Don’t think I will. I like pussy too much.

44DWM: “Don’t think you will?” Hmm. So you’ve thought about it?

CaliKing: I don’t know. Have you?

44DWM: Actually yeah. It’s hard not to once you spend a little time here. Maybe I’m getting desensitized. You see the cock and the cum and the pictures and videos of women enjoying giving blow jobs and you think, maybe that’s not so bad. And then later when I’m not horny, it doesn’t seem like a good idea.

CaliKing: Exactly! Think I could actually do it, and then I change my mind later after I cum.

44DWM: So what do you like in a cock?

CaliKing: Hmm. Big, but not too big. Ideally a little bigger than mine, cut.

44DWM: Me too, I think. I kind of get in a mood, and things look good that wouldn’t otherwise.

CaliKing: I know exactly what you mean. I get excited, get off, and then say wtf. But it’s cool.

44DWM: Do you mind if I ask you what yours is like?

CaliKing: My dick?

44DWM: Yeah, if you don’t mind. I assume you’re stroking right now too.

CaliKing: Yeah. I have been for awhile. Been getting pretty wound up. I’m just over 7″ cut.

44DWM: Yeah? Me too. Cool. You’ve been stroking for long?

CaliKing: Actually for about an hour and a half. Going a little crazy. I wasn’t thinking of blowing my load yet, but was waiting for the right moment.

44DWM: Cool. I’m just getting going, but I’m pretty horny too. Been thinking about it a lot actually.

CaliKing: What?

44DWM: Seeing what it’s like.

CaliKing: What’s what like?

I knew what he was talking about. Of course I knew. Conversations always got there eventually in chat rooms. Someone would ask if you’d really do it. What would it take for you to suck cock? But there was no chance, so I’d indulge in the secret fantasy. I’d say I wish I could take the place of the cocksucking slut in a picture. I’d say how yummy a particularly big dick was. I’d admit that I thought I could suck cock better than my wife if I’d only be given a chance. I could admit a lot of things. Because it’d be some guy in New York, or Australia, or Montana. It wouldn’t be a guy a half hour drive away.

44DWM: You know … what it would be like to suck cock. Just once. So I’d know.

CaliKing: I’ve thought about it, but I wouldn’t know where to start. It’s just not going to happen.

44DWM: It could. If you want. We can try with each other and no one would şişli escort know. I’m Dan by the way.

CaliKing: You can call me Nick.

44DWM: What are you doing tonight? Could you get together and have a beer? I’m 46, 5’11, 220. If it doesn’t seem weird, we could go somewhere at look at pictures together and stroke. We wouldn’t need to do more.

In any other instance, I’d probably run away. Log off. Never use the CaliKing screenname again. But I’d been stroking for near two hours. My cock was throbbing, and even before Dan had logged on and messaged me, I’d been thinking about what it would be like to have a cock between my lips. I’d been disappointed that it would probably never happen. And here was my chance. To at least have a chance. Maybe a chance to reject it, and be straight forever.

CaliKing: I’m the same age, 6’6, 230. We can meet. Maybe a bar or something. And then we can go somewhere if you want. Can’t be my place. My wife is home.

44DWM: You want to meet at Chevy’s? No obligation. Just watch some porn somehere.

CaliKing: Okay, I need to come up with an excuse and slip out.

44DWM: See you at 8:30. I’m going to take a shower.

He logged out of the chatroom. 8:30 was just 45 minutes away. I sat there staring at my screen. I didn’t need to go. He wouldn’t know who I was to even be mad at me. But I sat there, still staring at the chatroom screen, my hand slowly stroking my cock. It throbbed. A series of photos still, scrolled up on the screen. Women sucking on cocks. Cocksuckers. Cocks. And I could be one. I could be a cocksucker. But all I needed to do was to get in my car and drive to Chevy’s.

NYC-bicurious: Hey! What’s up?

CaliKing: Hi.

NYC-bicurious: What are you into?

I logged off. Suddenly the chat room seemed like an empty place. All this time, I’d been in the room fantasizing about something and now I could do it. The chat room lost it’s appeal.

I looked at the time. It was 8. I still had time to get there. I told my wife I needed a drink, grabbed my keys and left. The drive to the restaurant was eerie. I didn’t turn on the radio. I drove silently. Trying not to break the mood.

I parked my car and it was only 8:20. I barely remembered the drive over. I walked into the bar and realized I didn’t know what Dan looked like. If his name truly was Dan. Frankly, I hadn’t given him my real name, why would he give me his. But I’d been pretty clear about how tall I was and I figured I’d stand out if he was looking for me.

I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, I sat there, wondering if Dan was already there. Wondering how many beers I could get down before the moment of truth when he and I would find someplace private. I was almost finished with the first, staring blankly at the football game on the t.v. screen over the bar, when someone said from behind me quietly, “Nick?” And then “Are you Nick?”

I turned around. A man who looked like a former athlete stood there. Stocky. Masculine. “A regular guy.” I remembered that I had used the name Nick online.

“Hi, Dan? Right?” I said, and nodded to the barstool next to me. He sat and waved over the bartender to order something.

“See you were already going,” he observed.

“Need another?” I nodded.

We sat there for just a second. Maybe it was three, just long enough to notice we didn’t know what to say, but not long enough that it became awkward.

“What do you do, Nick?”

“I’m in marketing.” I wanted to be vague. He didn’t need to know who I was.

“Sales. Beer distributing.”

I realized we might know people in common. But at least we had something to talk about. We drank our drinks purposefully, chatting about sales and marketing, not giving too many specific details, but trying to keep it interesting.

This guy wasn’t bad. I could see being his friend. But not know. Now he knew who I was, and what I my secret fantasy was.

He stopped the conversation and put his credit card on the counter, flagged the bartender to pay our tabs. “I’ve got this,” he said. I glanced at the card and see that indeed his name was Dan. He was an upfront guy. Apparently more so than I was. “We should go now if you want. If we stay longer I might change my mind,” he said matter of factly.

“Okay,” I answered. I could see his point of view. My eagerness was starting to wear off, and I didn’t want it to.

“Can we take your car,” he asked.

“Yeah.”

We walked out to the parking lot and got in my car, a big SUV. I wondered why he didn’t want to take his, but that’s okay. “I brought my iPad,” I said. “We can find a dark quiet place and just pull up some videos, if you want.”

Behind an office park we found a dark spot far from two light poles, and I pulled the car in. I turned off the engine. “What do you want to watch,” I asked.

“I don’t know if we have to,” he said. “I’m already hard.”

I realized I was too. My cock was straining inside my jeans, uncomfortably twisted around. He reached over and rubbed me through the denim. “I see you’re hard too. Can I see it?”

I didn’t answer. I just started unbuttoning mecidiyeköy escort my jeans to let my cock free, letting it come out through the fly. I looked and he was doing the same.

“Nice,” Dan said, and he reached out for mine. I’d had hands on my cock before, and his felt not much different, but I knew there was something different.

I looked at his. It looked smaller than he claimed. Maybe six inches, and curved up. And wider than it was thick. So different from mine. It was hard and veiny. I reached my hand over, and felt another man’s dick for the first time. It felt different from holding mine. It felt good. And warm. Hard, but nice.

I stroked it a little as he stroked mine. But before the first minute had passed, I knew that I was there for one reason. “Can I … can I suck you?” I asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

I leaned over to the passenger seat, and took his cock in my mouth. Some part of me felt that it would feel wrong. Or strange. But it felt right. It felt like my mouth was made for cock. I paused for a moment feeling him on my tongue. Pressing my lips around it. Allowing my spit to moisten him. I could feel the warmth. I could feel the soft skin outside encasing his hard flesh underneath.

It felt right. I felt right. This wasn’t wrong. I closed my eyes and did my best from that position to give him the pleasure that I wanted in a blow job. Using my lips and tongue to give him pleasure. To give me pleasure. Having a cock in my mouth was giving me pleasure.

“It’s my turn,” he said, interrupting me. “Let’s get in the back seat.”

I looked up and remembered that I was in a parked car in a public space. I was doing something I shouldn’t do, in a place I shouldn’t do it. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. I glanced around the parking lot as we got into the back seat. I pulled my jeans around my ankles and let him see my cock. He leaned over wrapping his hand around the base and carefully placed his lips around the head. He started sucking, as his hand stroked the shaft.

“Oh Dan, that’s nice.” He was tentative. But a little awkward, but I enjoyed it. I looked down and it seemed odd to see a man sucking my cock. I closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sensation. But something seemed wrong. I knew that I wanted to suck him again. My mouth missed his dick. But I didn’t want to deny him the pleasure of sucking on me. The longer he sucked me, though, the more desperately I needed his cock in my mouth. I don’t know how long I waited.

“Dan, mmm, can I have a turn again?”

He looked up. “Yeah.” And then he leaned back.

I moved the front seats up so there was more room on the floor of the back, and kneeled on the floor so I could have better access to him.

I wanted to focus completely on this cock. I wanted to show that I could do this good. This would probably be my only chance. I let his cock again slide between my lips, my hand reached up and pulled his balls from his briefs and I held them as enjoyed the feeling of my mouth being full.

I became lost in the feeling of a cock being in me. The taste. The smell. The feel. I wanted this to last. I wanted him to enjoy this so much that he would forget about my cock. All I wanted was his. I wasn’t here to have my cock sucked. I was here to be a cocksucker.

“Mmmmm,” I heard Dan moan. “You belong on your knees, don’t you?” Yes, I thought. Yes. I do belong on my knees. This is right. I sucked more eagerly. His cock wasn’t big, I knew I could take more of it. I let it press further in my mouth, and felt it against the back of my mouth, gently pressing against my throat. I felt my nose press against his groin and knew I had taken all he could to give me.

“Good boy,” he moaned. “Good cocksucker.” Yes. I thought. His words made me happy. They made me feel fulfilled. And I was pleased he called me good boy. I didn’t feel feminine. Instead I felt more manly than I’d ever felt before. I was a cocksucker. It’s what I was meant to be.

More eagerly I allowed my lips and tongue to stroke his cock, gently sucking as my hands massaged his balls and the base of his cock. Occasionally allowing his cock to fully invade my mouth and hoping I was giving him the best cocksucking he’d ever had. I wanted him to remember this cocksucking. I wanted him to know I was his best.

I could hear his moaning get more eager, and I could feel his body thrust forward toward my mouth as I bobbed my head up and down on his cock. I had taken his whole cock, and now I wanted to take his whole load. I wanted to do the ultimate act of a cocksucker, and swallow his cum.

He continued to thrust into me, and I continued to bob in rhythm, my hand now stroking the base of his cock, urging this cum into my mouth. Willing him to grant me his cum. Taking me to the ultimate moment.

Suddenly, his thrusting stopped, and his body stiffened. I stroked his cock faster, as I let his cockhead lay inside my mouth. I felt the first spurt of cum into me, and I had a sudden thrill. Years of fantasy had been fulfilled. I sucked and swallowed him down, and then a second spurt. And then a third. And a swallowed. And then one more. I swallowed, and took more of his cock in my mouth and nursed on it. Wanting it to get hard again and wanting more cum. I was lost in the moment. I had done it. I had sucked cock. I was a cocksucker. I was a cumguzzler.

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