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Straight to Me

by Jimmy Gordon


by Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.net

I tasted the salty tang of his pre-cum as his cock slipped around in my mouth. I was going to take my time, this time, the last time. I wanted to savor the moment and the delicious taste of his dick, the strong scent of man rising from his thick pubic bush. I couldn’t keep seeing this guy, not like this. I knew going into it that he was straight, and just experimenting with me. Jerry loved to get blown, and I was easy and available.

Three weeks ago tonight, I remember it like it was last night. Jerry was sitting alone at the Pub around the corner from my office. I had gone there with friends to see the playoff on the sports bar’s big screen plasma television. I couldn’t care less about the fucking game, but I needed to unwind and I enjoyed my co-workers company--a bunch of really nice guys, but all straight as an arrow. I assumed they knew my story, but it’s definitely “Don’t ask, don’t tell” at our company.

He had moved forward, and stood among us at the front of the bar. Funny how a sport brings men together, even as different as Jerry and the “suits” I work with. Jerry and the boys were shouting and hooting at the screen, as if their coaching could change the Mets’ dismal performance that night. Every run would prompt slaps on the back and general rowdiness. I joined in, more because I enjoyed the male bonding than for the game.

Jerry is a big guy. He stands about six-four, and has that stocky build you only get with weight training. His shoulders slope down from his neck and fall into mounds of fleshy muscle on his arms. His biceps are large and defined, like twin cannonballs. His well-developed chest stands high off his frame, mighty and proud. I could see his dark silken chest hair curling tightly over the top of his very tight white tee shirt as I sipped my beer that night in the blue pub light. His cheeks were dark with a day’s growth of whiskers, and his hair was overdue for a cut. It looked soft and sexy, a shiny brown mane dancing across his forehead and curling at the nape of his neck in a short ponytail. He stood next to me as we watched the game. I felt light-headed; intoxicated by this big strapping man slapping my shoulder and grinning at me as the Mets rallied.

I had just gotten another beer when the game ended. The guys rushed off to catch the next train to the comfortable suburban lives they enjoyed every night. It seemed like everyone left at the same time. I had nowhere to go, so I nursed my beer alone at the now quiet bar. Jerry was still there.

“Hey, some freakin’ game, huh? Those Amazin’ Mets! I didn’t think they was gonna pull it off, but they did!” Jerry shouted across the room. I didn’t realize he was talking to me until he moved down the bar and sat on the stool next to me. “What ya drinkin’?”

He ordered two more beers, I introduced myself as Billy and he began to tell me about himself. I discovered he was recently separated from his wife and living alone for the first time in seven years. He appeared to be about thirty-five, rough and masculine. Judging by his deep tan and leathery complexion he obviously worked outdoors. In fact, he was a landscape construction engineer for the New York Park system. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was how I was staring at him, but the conversation quickly took a new direction.

“Lissen, Billy, you like cock? I mean, men, y’know? I’m gettin’ the idea that maybe you’re a queer. I ain’t got a problem wid’ that. Jus’ wanna know, y’know?” he slurred, leaning into me confidentially, blowing his beer breath into my face. Unbelievably direct-- I told him he was right, I was. I waited for his response, wondering if I was about to get bashed or end up with a bloody nose.

Jerry smirked and turned back to his beer with a snort. I saw him reach down and grab his substantial crotch, grasping the faded denim of his Levi’s in his big, calloused hand. I looked at his powerful features, the square jaw, obscured by the drift of stubble that ran from ear to ear across his handsome chin. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Jerry looked me square in the face and boldly stated, “I’m gonna get up now, and you're gonna follow me. I got a place around the corner. You're gonna follow me there and I’m gonna feed you my dick. Got it?” He pulled his jacket across his wide shoulders and threw a couple bucks on the bar. I shivered and nodded my head. I understood.

His apartment is in the basement of a three-story brownstone on 28th Street. It has a private entrance and Jerry opened the door, stepping aside to let me pass. I entered the room and waited for his instructions. It’s a small studio, the bed and the kitchen both in the same single room. I saw a futon mattress, open and disheveled. I imagined Jerry, sleepy and warm, dragging his awesome hairy body out of the crumpled sheets that morning.

“Wanna smoke some weed?” he asked. “I could sure use a hit, got some good shit!” he added. He pulled a fat joint from a jar on the side table and lit it, drawing deeply on the cigarette and passing it to me. I inhaled, pulling the rough smoke into my lungs. I figured I would need some courage for this, and grass always makes me less inhibited. “Take your clothes off, Billy. Strip real slow for me, I wanna see what a cocksucking faggot looks like!”

He put a video into the VCR, and as the pot hit my brain, I began to undress. Jerry sat on the armchair in the bay window, and opened his pants. I gazed at the huge lump under Jerry’s white BVD’s. He was big, I was gonna need another toke or two on that weed. The video was standard issue straight porn. A very buxom blonde was splayed out on the bed, her head hanging off the side of the mattress. She was deep-throating a slightly overweight man with tattoos on his arms. I swayed to the sleazy music, unconsciously dancing to the soundtrack coming from the television.

“Oh. Yeah, Billy! You seemed kinda quiet at the bar, but now I see you’re really a little cock-teasing whore, ain’t ya?” I dropped my shirt, rubbing my silky white chest, my fingers brushing across my pink nipples. Jerry had pulled his pants down around his ankles, and his cock strained at the thin knit fabric of his briefs. “Keep dancing, Billy-boy. Come over and dance in my lap!” he said.

I was getting really high, and really turned on with his big powerful body sprawled out in front of me. His hairy legs spread apart as he released his breathtaking dick for me to see. He was at least nine inches, maybe a little more. Thick as a beer bottle at the base, it tapered gently to the uncut end like a torpedo. I revealed my body as seductively as I could, as he held his giant member in his meaty paws. He pulled back his foreskin and the shiny head of his cock was revealed, both fists wrapped around the throbbing shaft.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and put my mouth on his piss hole, Jerry’s slippery pre-cum sliding across my lips. He grabbed me by the head and pulled me onto his dick with one smooth move. He moaned, throwing his head back and thrusting his hips forward, as his meaty shaft occupied my mouth. It seemed like slow motion, it just kept going deeper, farther, pushing on my tongue, hitting the back of my throat, wedging firmly in my neck. My mouth was stretched to the limit; I felt my lips burning as his hot poker swelled up in my mouth.

I gagged and pulled myself off his penis. “Bite off more than you can chew?” he chuckled, as he gazed intently at the scene flickering on the television. I sucked his enormous ramrod back into my mouth, meeting his thrusts, driving him deep down my throat. His breathing became heavy, his chest heaved from his frame, his nipples dark and erect. I rubbed my hands on his hairy belly, shiny with perspiration in the dim evening light coming in the window.

“Shit, man, take it! Suck my fat dick, you fairy son-of-a-bitch!” he moaned. Jerry bucked wildly under me as my head bobbed on his cock. He grabbed my hair and violently pulled my face into his groin, his manhood erupting in my mouth as his cum flowed from his engorged balls, up his dick, exploding in my throat. He shot several heavy loads into me. It filled my mouth and shot out my nose as I choked on the thick creamy wad. He drenched me, his jizz leaking from my lips and running down my neck in thick ropes. I gagged down as much as I could and swallowed. Exhausted, I placed my head in his warm, moist pubes; my cheek lying in pearly pools of his cum. Jerry shuddered and went still.

“Billy, that was fuckin’ great! You are one hell of a cocksucker, that’s for sure!” he said, his hand resting on my head, pulling me into his dark, wet pubic hairs. “ You like the taste of cum, huh? You fuckin’ sucked it outta me like a goddamn Hoover, buddy!”

The video played on, and Jerry continued watching. The blonde had turned around so her big fat butt was hanging off the side of the bed. The tattooed man was violently pumping her up the ass, almost knocking her over with every thrust. Jerry stroked my golden hair, the first display of intimacy he had shown all night. I felt like a contented kitten, petted and purring in his lap. I stayed there, breathing in the heady aroma of sex, cum and sweat from Jerry’s hairy crotch. His dick began to harden up. The image of the woman getting rammed up the shithole was turning him on again. Suddenly he pushed me aside, and went into the bathroom. I heard the water run, and soon realized he was showering. I wiped the congealed beads of cum from my face with his fragrant BVD’s. The video ended. I dressed quickly in the silent darkness, shoved Jerry’s briefs into my pocket and left the apartment. One uncomfortable farewell scene avoided.

The following week I passed the “Pub” on my way to the subway. Jerry was there, sitting in the window at the bar. I tried to escape his view, but he saw me and crooked his finger at me as if to say “Get in here--now!” I wanted to avoid him, go the other way, but I was powerless to resist the big dominant man. I entered the bar and sat next to Jerry. He glared at me for a second, and then ordered two more beers and we sat in silence until he was through. He left the bar, and I followed with no words spoken.

We got to Jerry’s apartment, and he opened the door. The room was essentially unchanged. The dishes in the sink looked like the same dishes from last week. The futon was unmade and tousled. It smelled like smoke and man. I stepped aside as he closed the door behind us.

Suddenly, I felt a fiery sting on my face as the back of his hand cracked across my cheek. He slapped me to the floor; I kneeled trembling at his feet, waiting for another blow.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Who fuckin’ told you to leave? You ever run out on me again and I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you lousy goddam cum-sucking bitch!” he shouted. “Now strip down and behave yourself like a good little fag boy, and maybe I’ll let you have another taste of my dick!”

He began to undress as he crossed the room to the television. He hadn’t stripped last time so I sensed this was going to be...well, not romantic, but different. He was completely naked except for his thick white athletic socks. I was glad he left them on, they were sexy and manly looking. He popped a video into the VCR, the same crappy flick as last week. It was cued to the scene where the blonde was getting shafted, and he stood in front of the screen for a few seconds jerking himself.

“I fuckin’ love this scene, Billy. Look at the slut’s face as the dude slips her the salami, man! Eeeow! She’s fuckin’ beggin’ to get plowed, damn!” he panted, pulling hard on his big rock-hard fuck rod.

I sat eagerly on the edge of the futon as he turned towards me. His erect cock swayed in front of him as Jerry stepped between my open legs. He slapped his dick in my face, teasing me with it, just inches from my hungry lips. I licked at it frantically; trying to suck it into my mouth, taste the hardness.

“No baby, not this time. I got other plans for you. You see the bitch on TV? I’d be willin’ to bet you wanna feel my fuckin’ pecker up your ass--just like that!” he growled as he pushed me back on the mattress. I had only been fucked a couple times before, in college--a classmate with a nice enough cock--but nothing like Jerry’s monster. I wanted it bad, and didn’t care what price there was to pay. Jerry’s cock would be deep inside me tonight.

Climbing next to me he lay on his back and pulled me on top of him. I straddled his waist, felt his tight abdomen rippling under my thighs. His cock pulsated in my crack as he rubbed it between my cheeks. Holding me by the waist, he raised me up on my knees, his stiff pole poised at my trembling bud. I let myself down slowly as Jerry’s fat mushroom head popped into my asshole. Sudden and unbelievable pain, shooting through me like a knife in my ass! I screamed out, but he wouldn’t release me. Jerry held me firmly, my body impaled on his mighty sword. “Shhh, settle down. You want it bad. You’re fuckin’ ready to take it, and you know it. Just relax and it won’t hurt as much,” he murmured to me. I looked down at his incredible body, his handsome face, I felt his strong hands on my hips as he slowly guided me down, easing me onto him until I sat firmly on his belly. My ass pressed firmly into his wiry pubic hairs, his nine inches wedged tightly into my gut.

We stayed like that, still and unmoving, for several minutes as my body adjusted to the incredible intrusion. I stroked Jerry’s chest, my fingers dancing across the luxurious swirls of matted brown hair. The video droned on with grunts, groans and the sounds of sex. The woman was riding her partner just like I was now riding Jerry. I began to rock back and forth, driving his iron spike in and out of my flaming ass. Jerry looked from the video to me, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Damn, this is good, huh? You’re so fuckin’ tight, Billy... So fuckin’ tight…” he moaned. He began to grind his hips into me, and I responded by bucking enthusiastically up and down on his rod. He stroked and pulled on my tits, caressing them and twisting the tender nipples in his coarse fingers. I love to have my chest played with, and he was sending me over the edge! I knew I would cum soon, and I wondered what Jerry would do if I shot a load across his chest? I imagined his cock growing in me; expanding and lengthening, reaching into my body, touching my belly, my chest, and my heart.

He came inside me. It was a huge discharge--it flooded me. His hips continued to jerk upward as he slammed himself totally into me, depositing his seed deep in my belly. I nutted at the same time, it was ecstasy. I collapsed onto Jerry, clinging to his massive biceps as we slid together in a mixture of sweat and semen. The video credits ran, the music stopped, we lay there in silence.

A little while later, his softening cock slipped from my slimy stretched-out asshole. He pulled out from under me and went into the kitchen for a beer. I knew it was time; I pulled my clothes together and dressed. Jerry didn’t stop me. I opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air.

I met Jeffrey last week at a fundraiser. He is intelligent and handsome, and very gay. No more straight men for me, thank you! Jeffrey may not be as sexy, or as hot, or as dangerously exciting as Jerry, but why keep reaching for things that are beyond my grasp? I will be happy with Jeffrey, no bullshit, and no games. So tonight I’m sucking Jerry off one last time, then it’s over.

So, his cock...slipping around in my mouth and the familiar scent of tobacco and musk in his pubic hairs. I love the smell of this man; love his hardness, his masculinity. No video tonight. He lay on the futon, his legs spread out as I position myself between them and place my mouth around his rigid member. He strokes my head, and I’m reminded again of purring kittens. I could be so content with Jerry. Fucking straight men. Why do I let myself get abused by them? What is this fatal attraction?

Jerry is in a really good mood tonight. No rough stuff, as much as I love it. He pulls me off his cock and draws me up to lay next to him. He goes for my nips again, and I begin to squirm at his ardent touch. He rolls them with his broad thumb and calloused fingers. I can’t understand what he’s doing. He reaches out to touch my cheek.

“Billy, I been thinkin’,” he whispered to me, “The world’s a fucked up place. A guy can look and look, and never find what‘s right for him. Hell, she may never come along! How many sorry bitches do you have to go through before you meet the one? And you, you might never find another gay dude you really get off with. You can waste half your life looking for somethin’ that was right next to you the whole time.”

Jerry drew my face to his, and I felt his hot breath on my eyes. My heart leapt into my throat. I was overwhelmed by what Jerry seemed to be saying to me. He pushed his torso into mine, his coarse body hair brushing across my chest. His thick arms wrapped around my waist, and I reached around his shoulders and ran my fingers through his thick curly mane. I opened my legs to accept him, and he rolled against me, aligning his mighty cock head with my ass.

My rosy pucker stretched open, accepting this man’s cock into the most intimate place I could offer him. It wasn’t a cunt, but maybe better; and Jerry seemed to think so. He pressed his lips to mine, and he kissed me as his astoundingly thick dick slid into place inside me. Our first kiss was passionate and unquestionable. My thoughts of never seeing Jerry again were instantly forgotten in that moment. I belonged here, like this, with his straight cock up my gay ass.

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