So this is just the foreplay. Would love some feedback as there are so many directions to go after this. Thanks for reading. -sewerffag@gmail.com
I’ll just get right down to it, cuz that’s what we’re here for right? So my meth dealer is fucking sexy/sleazy/I’d fuck him when I’m sober/I drool over him when high and is the kinda confident macho bro that knows it. I’d guess he’s right around 40 but his demeanor and look is younger, as if he’s not maturing past his early 30s. He works out plenty, and while he's definitely always high, he handles his drug well, so well that he’s made it apart if his swagger, upping his sex appeal (course this aspect probably only appeals to meth users). Now, he’'s definitely straight because he always has hungry, territorial bitches hangin on him when I come to pick up, but like most straight guys who know they're hot, hung, and have an inflated ego (false or otherwise) he teases the fags shamelessly. Whores for attention, and I’m a sucker for an attention whore.
One Friday afternoon when I am over to pick up, I know he’s horny and in a mood because he is shirtless and wearing these navy blue Gym shorts (why is it always gym shorts?) that he sags, showing off some nice furry crack and about an inch of what looks like dingy CK boxer briefs. I’ve seen these shorts numerous times but it dawns on me just now that if he didn’t sag them so much they’d only fall to about mid thigh, peculiarly short for such a bro. In any case his huge cock flops visibly around in them when he saunters towards me, his muscled ass stretching the worn navy nylon in the back, and a few holes show flesh or underwear beneath. Without fail he always manages to bend over or squat at least once each visit in locations that are blatant appeals to my obvious faggot desires.
Sure, he knows that I know that he knows I’d get on my knees and beg for it if he allowed me the opportunity, but what he doesn’t know are the all the diverse and extreme ways I would beg to service him. It is this knowledge, this indecorous depravity, that allows me to barely maintain my confidence around him. I was sure that if given the chance and motivation I could blow his mind by getting him to blow his load in 3 minutes or less, and change his life forever. The fucker sure gives me a run for my money though...those first few clouds he offers me, knowing I haven't smoked in a while so he can watch me go from composed business-casual gay to sweaty, needy, chemwhore in 60 seconds flat.
I just can't help it. That bitch Tina immediately hijacks my brain, silencing any self control, dignity or hesitations and ignites a pathetic hunger, an inexhaustible need… My eyes (and my kunt) dilate, my cock twitches, and I salivate from both holes and my cock all at once. Unconsciously I rub my inner thigh and readjust my cum swollen balls and swelling cock. I know that I'm staring at him, at his muscles as he flexes his arms ripping the bong, the size of his hands, and then my eyes following the massive cloud he blows purposely down onto his crotch. The perfectly timed twitch of his cock through the swirling smoke, a trap I realize immediately when he snickers and my eyes snap to his leering back at me. Without breaking eye contact he leans forward, let’s spreading wider (those fucking gym shorts!) and passes me the bong.
“Here ya go man, best shit I’ve had in a while. Been making me wicked horny all day. Take a couple good rips off that while I weigh you out.” I don’t even hesitate or don’t break eye contact till he smiles and looks away to go about our transaction. Torch clicks, crystal melts, chamber fills and I suck that bong like the glass cock it is. He watches me exhale a thick cloud even bigger than his and whistles. I’m already power lunging my 3rd rip when he leans back into his chair, folding his beefy arms behind his buzzed sandy blonde head and exposing those ripe pits. He slouches more, legs spreading further and crotch pushing forward even more and resumes his leering as I exhale... even more slowly this time, letting the smoke ooze from my mouth while meeting his domineering gaze. At this point I don't really care that he's smirking down at me, in fact it does exactly what it’s meant to: makes me want him, to submit to him more, helplessly falling deeper into his well practiced thrall.
Now, as an unwavering, no reciprocation necessary, worshiper-of-cock kind of cocksucker, I have no problem dropping to my knees and servicing any man who knows how to put my grateful holes to good use but in my experience (or my assumptions) not many straight men really know about us faggots and/or just aren't interested. This guy though? I’d bet my left nut he knows exactly what to do with me. I pass the bong back to him and it’s then I realize there’s no one else in the house for once...just him and those fucking gym shorts with that big old dick print and some ripe fucking pits. Usually, I come in, give him cash, smoke a few hits and then leave, but this time he has invited me in, sat me on his couch across from him and is casually getting me twisted bong high.
“So Cassandra thinks you’re a faggot” he states. “She says you’re kind occasionally come into her club cuz they’re still closeted and trying to play it straight in front of their bro friends. ‘They’re always so awkward and never want a lap dance but they always tip real well,’ she says. You ever had that experience?” He more insinuates than asks.
“No actually, I embraced my faggotry at a young age so I never had to ‘fake it.’ More often I am the person those bros call when they leave the club. All horned up, buzzed, and looking to use some hungry hole or be serviced with out the emotional shit their women make them go through,” Hell if he thought he would catch me off guard and shame me into…whatever he had in mind, he thought wrong. This response shocked him for a moment as he coughed and sputtered out his cloud, looked at me dead on checking to make sure I wasn’t bullshitting him, and then smiled.
“So after Cassandra told me this, I did a little research. Fuckin Tumblr opened my eyes real wide. I’ll admit I had no idea you guys really existed…and what really got me going is that you exist to worship, service, whatever the fuck I want. The moment you walked in today I knew Cassie was right and that you will gratefully do whatever I tell you.”
The fact that this last part was a statement and not a question made me whimper under my breath. He passed me back the bong and said, “Finish that faggot. I can tell you’re about to loose your shit just being in my presence and for what I have in mind, I want you all ready to go. Then you can show me if you faggots are worth a real man’s time. “
