Cocky Weewee Peepee Sissy Slut Training The Bladder Test
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Becoming A Black Cock Sissy Slut Part 1 free porn video
I think every man feels at least a little insecure about the size of his penis.
Okay - maybe not every man. There are certainly some sizable cocks out there that leave no doubt about the superiority of the man attached to it. Of course - the stereotype is the big, black cock everyone craves, the ideal piece of man meat so swollen when erect that it seemed impossible for any woman to actually fit it inside her pussy.
Yet she always does.
I get it. I know that porn isn't reflective of reality. But the face those girls make when taken by a real man. The moans, the cries, the screams, tell me they are all fake. Tell me that a woman prefers a modest to mild size prick, something like mine, barely more than five inches if I measure from the base.
Because it's not just the overdone, doll-faced, dull-eyed professionals greedily taking big cocks. Porn is brimming with amateurs, putting out videos of their wives and girlfriends sucking mammoth dicks, nursing little more than the head, spreading the legs apart to let his monster dick drive into them. Through screams of unbridled ecstasy, they prove how superior size really makes the man.
I have never seen those women pull out a vibrator or rub their clit the way Laura does when I'm inside of her. Intellectually, I know it's nothing to get wigged out about. Lots of women need to cum from direct stimulation on their clitoris. But if I were a big man, or even a moderately-sized one, I might easily overlook the attention my wife always paid herself.
She was out of my league anyway. Laura wore her hair long, dyed platinum blonde. She had big beautiful tits that didn't quite belong on that petite frame. I could always tell when someone noticed us, wondering how such an average looking, if not somewhat wimpy male managed to land such a vixen.
It wasn't my money.
She made more than me working as a personal assistant for a large oil company in Houston. It kept her away a lot of weekends, and often too exhausted to engage sexually. There were many nights when I had to satisfy myself through the glow of a computer monitor, looking down at my stubby, thin little thing with contempt as I finished on my stomach.
There was one more thing...
It started with a picture of Laura, nothing too risque. She wouldn't let me take any nudes no matter how much I pleaded. But it showed her in a bikini, barely enough to cover her nipples. I don't remember what possessed me. I was curious and had been drinking a few beers. But I ended up on Craigslist, where I frequently window-shopped the ads. Only this time, I posted my own ad, blurring out her face and posting the picture as an ad in the women seeking men.
It wasn't Shakespeare. I think the wording just included her stats and a need to be discreet, but the messages poured in. To my shock, most of the men simply emailed pictures of their cocks, hard with the camera directed downwards, or next to something like a ruler or a bottle of shampoo to show a point of comparison.
Nearly all of them were bigger than me.
There were messages, though calling them that seems generous. More articulate responses might have been banged out with their dick on the keyboard. I read various one sentence demands, and other instructions for how my wife would be fucked.
Sometimes the emails included more effort other than what's up and a dick pic. My favorites were the descriptions of how much she would enjoy being used by them. I even started imagining what it would look like to see my wife's pussy stretched open, my imagination going into overdrive. I drooled over these images, favoriting dozens, coveting my collection over the week.
I posted again, desperate for more. I didn't really think too hard about what was spurring me on, pressing down any truly introspective thoughts about my own peculiar interested in dick pics. But on those days when my wife was too wiped out to even give me a hand-job, I found my sexual imagination gravitating to these illicit messages.
It became a pattern, and I somehow found myself in the position of being a catfishing pic collector. I wasn't gay, bi, or anything in between. What I was witnessing felt more like penis envy. I imagined what I would do to Laura if I had been so well-endowed, thought about stretching her open, creating new climaxes in her unparalleled by any of my previous attempts.
So there I was at my computer, cock in one hand, watching the trickle of email pour in like a penis parade when I got a message that stood out. His dick looked familiar, big and black, a little curved to one side with a slightly off-colored head. The email came from a Jay88, and included six different pictures, all flattering angles of this massive prick.
One showed him next to a coke can, with more than half the circumference. Another showed the white cream leaking out of his head, dabbing out onto his shaft in a tremendous stream. He even included a full body shot, a rarity I'd found. Though older, his muscles well proportioned, his figure tall and imposing. Those steely blue eyes peered back at me, almost commanding me to reply.
I seen you on here a couple weeks in a row. Not getting what you need at home love? Safe, sane, ddf, hit me back...
Then the nine-digit number - no mistaking that.
I didn't even think about the consequences. Something about the scenario, even pretending to be a woman as beautiful as my wife needing a real cock drove me crazy. I opened up my phone, typing in the number and taking a long breath before typing.
Hi
Nothing big, I could barely managed more. .
The reply came back in seconds.
This the girl?
Took late to back out now.
Yes.
I liked your pics. You looking for tonight?
How to respond? I couldn't actually meet up with the guy. Nor did I want to do anything untoward with him. All at once the fantasy was spiraling out of control, creating a moment of panic in me.
I shouldn't. I'm married.
I typed it back, desperate.
You must be missing something if you on here babe. I won't tell anyone. I can be discreet.
I kept wondering what it would be like if my wife was actually fucked by his big, black cock. I started to say I'm sorry, but then changed my mind. I needed to know more.
How would we? I don't want you in my house. And I don't want to be ax-murdered, no offense. I'm not sure how it could work even if I wanted it.
Those dots started and stopped on my iPhone as I waited anxiously.
There's this adult store up the road called Pinks. It's got rooms, videos, whatever you want. We can go there, if you don't like it, just buy a dildo.
The rational thing was to end the conversation. I didn't actually want to suck him or anything, I'd already self-determined my interest another man's junk was completely benign. It's not like I hadn't looked at gay porn before, it just hadn't held my interest. But I had this idea of just seeing him. Irrationally, I imagined him playing with another girl in the backroom, or maybe I could catch a glimpse at the urinal. I'd stared at plenty of penises that way...
So what was it about the idea of seeing this big black python in person that got me so aroused? Was it the same thing that drew me to the dicks pounding into the girls in every video? And why did I care to see him in person?
There was another kind of draw, a thrill in visiting one of those seedy, jack shack porn theaters that faded so quickly out of the lives of everyone not desperate for discrete, anonymous sex. I'd only been inside an actual porn store once, an adult store that I'd always passed on family road trips out north. It hadn't been anything special.
Not compared to the internet anyways.
There should have been a period of deliberation, an internal struggle that carried out in my mind for half an hour rationalizing the pros and cons of this path. Instead, my fingers worked on the touchscreen, dribbling out my barely hidden desire.
Okay, 10:00?
His response got me going.
By 10:15 you're going to have my cock down your mouth. You'll love it. You can finally get that big dick you can't get at home.
The self-delusional convincing took place largely in on the twenty-minute drive up to the arcade. I didn't need to actually reveal myself to him. I could just linger, looking over the videos before he got bored. Worst case scenario, I go home with a video or two, but at least I tried to do something slightly sexual.
It had been nearly a month.
Not that longer periods weren't possible, especially after the k**s. But I'd always hoped that things would pick back up again after Carson and Kelly left for college. That we would waltz around naked, spending hours in each other's arms like when we were teenagers. Instead - I was so keyed up by the lack of attention, I was considering peeping at some stranger I met on the internet.
But my building erection didn't care. I had one last chance to back out, one more of semi-clarity when I reached for the handle to the car door. It was like that moment before letting go on a gigantic waterslide, that last lingering chance to back out of something that seems so incredibly stupid, and yet at the same time tickles another more basic instinct.
I entered the store with trembling steps, my stomach twisting and turning, but my prick was thinking for me. I hadn't spent any time in these stores, so the shelves spilling forward with sex seemed a little shocking to take in. Still, nothing about the place surprised me, except for the door at the back with the word THEATER written on it. There were shelves lined with DVDS, an area for various lingerie and other outfits, another organized by type of toy.
At first, I expected him to be there, already waiting to ambush me.
I know it was more than a little insane, but my mind drifted to a dozen different conversations where he outed me as some sort of faggot in front of the store. Not that there was anyone around at 10 on a Tuesday, just me and the cashier, an older looking bald white man more interested in an ESPN magazine.
So I waited, awkwardly pouring over different titles until I relaxed. I even picked out a few from the bargain bin, some large black gang bang video paired a package with a tranny dvd. Excited about my purchase, I began thinking he probably wouldn't even show.
The door clanged opened, my eyes riveting to the husky black male entering the room. He was a little older, maybe fifty, a shaved head and a very thin goatee. He had a little bit of a stomach, nothing big given his large barrel chest and muscular arms. Still, something about the way he stepped into the room, exuding a natural confidence, convinced me beyond any doubt he was the one from the ad.
That and the lack of customers signaled this wasn't a coincidence. Then I considered that he might have the same thought about me. Self-consciously, I tried to avoid his gaze, feigning interest in the collection of DVDS. I would glance up, openly staring at him, stopping only when his eyes met mine.
I couldn't have been more obvious.
He started to shadow me, and I'm sure I gave a thousand other little tells. He moved slowly, letting me get used to his presence even as he stepped within arm's length of me.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" He said in a low whisper.
"Uh... I don't think so..." I said lamely.
"Really?" He asked. "Because you know, someone was supposed to meet me here."
"Sorry..."
"You know," He cut me off. "Sometimes a girl will get online, post an ad on just to get that rush. Those girls are real nasty, they like to see all the guys that wanna fuck 'em, but they never intend to follow through with anything, you know?"
"Yeah," I said, wanting to end the conversation.
"Sometimes it's a dude though," He said. "Usually you can tell though. They find bullshit pictures from some porn site. They share way too many nude shots. You get a sense for that, the fakes. They want you so horny that you'll let a guy make you nut."
"Hey man-"
He moved closer.
"Are those are pictures of your wife?" He said. "She know you're out here tonight?"
"Man it wasn't..."
Then my pocket started to ring, just a little vibration than made me shoot up in terror.
"You don't have to get that," He said. "The person you want is right here."
I couldn't speak. I swallowed, forcing down every stupid thought and excuse I had, unable to believe I'd been so foolish.
"Does your wife know your sharing pics of her?"
"I'm not married," I said quickly.
"You got that ring," He said. "I think you are. So what is a married boy like you doing? You trying to suck dick for the first time?"
"No, I just,"
"No, you just what?"
"I - I wanted to see it. Just to see it."
"You can see it," He said smoothly. "Just ask Daddy..."
"What? I'm not going to..."
He shushed me, his hand reached out to touch my lips. It was weird, made more so because I docilely obeyed.
"You don't have to say anything," He said. "We can do whatever you wanted. Just go get us some tokens from the clerk."
I glanced at the older man, still immersed in his magazine from across the room. I don't think I could have crossed the room if it had been anyone else - especially not if a woman worked the registered. That he didn't give any indication of caring about anything we were up to allowed me to cross the room, quietly sliding a twenty onto the glass countertop.
"What do you want?" The clerk said, barely looking up from his magazine.
That was a blessing, his eyes would have bored into me, silently judging me for what I was considering. What else could he have thought, with me presenting my money and then walking to the back with another man?
"Tokens," I said quietly.
"Oh, well you'll have to leave those here," He said, pointing down to the DVDS still clutched in my hand.
"Right - sorry," I answered quickly.
"Just clean up after yourselves," He said, returning to his magazine.
I was already through the door at the other side of the room before I caught the plural at the end of the word, following the large black man I had already called Daddy once or twice in my head. There should have been more resistance, more manliness in me that might stand up to this immediate assault of my sexuality.
No - it was more than that. Something more submissive. Real men might decide to go out and fuck a man, even at an adult bookstore. But none of this was my idea or suggestion. Once shown that cock, so mesmerizingly big, I just let myself be led by my own lust.
Did I really think he would just show me his cock? That he only wanted a hand job?
But at this point, I couldn't have suspected his real idea.
The THEATER door let to small corridor, a miniature hallway with identical rooms that swung openly easily enough. Inside the little room was a bench, big enough to seat two, and a video screen with several flashing buttons.
"Go ahead," He said, his hand on my backside as he pushed me into
I inserted all the coins, bumbling with them as I nervously tried to avoid taking the next step. The screen changed from a soft blue to a video of a woman taking three or four gigantic black cocks. I could hear her moans as they took turns with her mouth, directing her from dick to dick, just like I imagined.
It was different being here with him, exciting and frightening even as I tried to pretend I was alone. Still, I could sense his presence. Not only that, there was a building worry about being discovered, that someone else might open the door where we basked in the light of the tiny pornographic light and assume I was gay.
Amazing, how I still clung to my preconceived fantasy about what was happening, in spite of the obvious.
The girl on the screen was blonde with smaller breasts barely bouncing as she slurped down each of them greedily. But I wasn't really watching her; my eyes riveted on the black b**sts going in and out of each hole.
"You like this kind of porn?" He asked.
I nodded.
"Do you like big dicks?" He said.
I tried to nod, but he wouldn't have any of it.
"Speak up," He said.
"Yes," I managed.
"Yes, Daddy," He corrected. "Now go ahead, tell Daddy what you want?"
I hesitated, there was something keeping me from simply saying it out loud.
"Come on," He coaxed. "You've seen it before, just say it."
"Can I see?"
"Just say it. What's so hard about that? I'll even let you touch if you like. But you gotta say it. Say Daddy, can I see your dick."
I tried mumbling it, only for him to make me start again.
"So I can hear it."
"Daddy..."
The word made me sound so c***dish, seeking out like a little girl begging for a favor. But it only made the rest much easier to say compared to calling another man Daddy.
"Can I see your dick?"
"Sure you can," Daddy said, fishing out his cock from his gym shorts.
It seemed even bigger in person, his cock almost shiny even as a silhouette against the soft hue from porn playing in the background.
But I only heard the moans from the video, already completely encapsulated by the thing in front of me, longer than my hand, and not even all the way out of his waistband. A vein stuck profoundly, almost like two crossing bolts of lightning or a branch on a large tree trunk. He flopped out, making me all too aware that he wasn't even erect.
He pulled down on his shorts again, and his balls stretched out over his shorts. He started stroking himself, the b**st growing in front of my saucer-shaped eyes. I might have blinked or rubbed my eyes to convince myself that this was actually happening. Here in front of me was a man at least two or three times my length. In every way, Daddy's dick was superior, bigger, thicker, already gleaming with pre-cum.
I bet he never wanted for an orgasm. He could tempt anyone with that cock.
He certainly was tempting me.
But I was no cheater. I mean, sure I was in an adult bookstore, but I'd never strayed from Laura. I had no interest in throwing away ten years of marriage on a whim. I would watch until we both came, then leave without ever risking an STD or anyone ever knowing.
"Do you want to touch it?" Daddy asked.
Did I?
I asked myself already knowing the answer, already with excuses and justification on hand to explain why this was okay.
I mean, it's not like there was any risk it that? Besides, I wondered what it would feel like. His dick had a dark, almost leathery look to it, the veins bulging out from the dark flesh.
When would I ever get the chance again?
I tapped my fingers against my knees, giving him enough of a signal. He grabbed at my wrist, pulling me gently towards him, clasping his strong, dark hands around my tiny fist. His skin was silky, both smooth and bumpy along those thick, lined veins. He started moving my hand up his shaft, my hand engulfed by his. But it didn't matter, I could feel myself stroking him, giving out my first hand job.
Soon enough, he didn't have to help me. My hand covered nowhere near half of him, sliding up and down to his off-colored head, already dripping with pre -cum. His fluids secreted down the length of him, blending with his skin and my hand.
I kept stroking, moving faster, gripping hard. He was so heavy, so hard to manipulate in this way. He seemed to sense me struggling and stood up, moving in front of the screen to block the image of the girl getting pounded by massive dicks in every single hole.
As I jerked him closer to my face, I could really feel the weight of him, the girth heavy and hard to grip. I went faster, trying to ignore the slow, shuffling steps he made towards me. He grew closer and closer, until only a few inches away from my mouth, clearly expecting it.
Okay - maybe not every man. There are certainly some sizable cocks out there that leave no doubt about the superiority of the man attached to it. Of course - the stereotype is the big, black cock everyone craves, the ideal piece of man meat so swollen when erect that it seemed impossible for any woman to actually fit it inside her pussy.
Yet she always does.
I get it. I know that porn isn't reflective of reality. But the face those girls make when taken by a real man. The moans, the cries, the screams, tell me they are all fake. Tell me that a woman prefers a modest to mild size prick, something like mine, barely more than five inches if I measure from the base.
Because it's not just the overdone, doll-faced, dull-eyed professionals greedily taking big cocks. Porn is brimming with amateurs, putting out videos of their wives and girlfriends sucking mammoth dicks, nursing little more than the head, spreading the legs apart to let his monster dick drive into them. Through screams of unbridled ecstasy, they prove how superior size really makes the man.
I have never seen those women pull out a vibrator or rub their clit the way Laura does when I'm inside of her. Intellectually, I know it's nothing to get wigged out about. Lots of women need to cum from direct stimulation on their clitoris. But if I were a big man, or even a moderately-sized one, I might easily overlook the attention my wife always paid herself.
She was out of my league anyway. Laura wore her hair long, dyed platinum blonde. She had big beautiful tits that didn't quite belong on that petite frame. I could always tell when someone noticed us, wondering how such an average looking, if not somewhat wimpy male managed to land such a vixen.
It wasn't my money.
She made more than me working as a personal assistant for a large oil company in Houston. It kept her away a lot of weekends, and often too exhausted to engage sexually. There were many nights when I had to satisfy myself through the glow of a computer monitor, looking down at my stubby, thin little thing with contempt as I finished on my stomach.
There was one more thing...
It started with a picture of Laura, nothing too risque. She wouldn't let me take any nudes no matter how much I pleaded. But it showed her in a bikini, barely enough to cover her nipples. I don't remember what possessed me. I was curious and had been drinking a few beers. But I ended up on Craigslist, where I frequently window-shopped the ads. Only this time, I posted my own ad, blurring out her face and posting the picture as an ad in the women seeking men.
It wasn't Shakespeare. I think the wording just included her stats and a need to be discreet, but the messages poured in. To my shock, most of the men simply emailed pictures of their cocks, hard with the camera directed downwards, or next to something like a ruler or a bottle of shampoo to show a point of comparison.
Nearly all of them were bigger than me.
There were messages, though calling them that seems generous. More articulate responses might have been banged out with their dick on the keyboard. I read various one sentence demands, and other instructions for how my wife would be fucked.
Sometimes the emails included more effort other than what's up and a dick pic. My favorites were the descriptions of how much she would enjoy being used by them. I even started imagining what it would look like to see my wife's pussy stretched open, my imagination going into overdrive. I drooled over these images, favoriting dozens, coveting my collection over the week.
I posted again, desperate for more. I didn't really think too hard about what was spurring me on, pressing down any truly introspective thoughts about my own peculiar interested in dick pics. But on those days when my wife was too wiped out to even give me a hand-job, I found my sexual imagination gravitating to these illicit messages.
It became a pattern, and I somehow found myself in the position of being a catfishing pic collector. I wasn't gay, bi, or anything in between. What I was witnessing felt more like penis envy. I imagined what I would do to Laura if I had been so well-endowed, thought about stretching her open, creating new climaxes in her unparalleled by any of my previous attempts.
So there I was at my computer, cock in one hand, watching the trickle of email pour in like a penis parade when I got a message that stood out. His dick looked familiar, big and black, a little curved to one side with a slightly off-colored head. The email came from a Jay88, and included six different pictures, all flattering angles of this massive prick.
One showed him next to a coke can, with more than half the circumference. Another showed the white cream leaking out of his head, dabbing out onto his shaft in a tremendous stream. He even included a full body shot, a rarity I'd found. Though older, his muscles well proportioned, his figure tall and imposing. Those steely blue eyes peered back at me, almost commanding me to reply.
I seen you on here a couple weeks in a row. Not getting what you need at home love? Safe, sane, ddf, hit me back...
Then the nine-digit number - no mistaking that.
I didn't even think about the consequences. Something about the scenario, even pretending to be a woman as beautiful as my wife needing a real cock drove me crazy. I opened up my phone, typing in the number and taking a long breath before typing.
Hi
Nothing big, I could barely managed more. .
The reply came back in seconds.
This the girl?
Took late to back out now.
Yes.
I liked your pics. You looking for tonight?
How to respond? I couldn't actually meet up with the guy. Nor did I want to do anything untoward with him. All at once the fantasy was spiraling out of control, creating a moment of panic in me.
I shouldn't. I'm married.
I typed it back, desperate.
You must be missing something if you on here babe. I won't tell anyone. I can be discreet.
I kept wondering what it would be like if my wife was actually fucked by his big, black cock. I started to say I'm sorry, but then changed my mind. I needed to know more.
How would we? I don't want you in my house. And I don't want to be ax-murdered, no offense. I'm not sure how it could work even if I wanted it.
Those dots started and stopped on my iPhone as I waited anxiously.
There's this adult store up the road called Pinks. It's got rooms, videos, whatever you want. We can go there, if you don't like it, just buy a dildo.
The rational thing was to end the conversation. I didn't actually want to suck him or anything, I'd already self-determined my interest another man's junk was completely benign. It's not like I hadn't looked at gay porn before, it just hadn't held my interest. But I had this idea of just seeing him. Irrationally, I imagined him playing with another girl in the backroom, or maybe I could catch a glimpse at the urinal. I'd stared at plenty of penises that way...
So what was it about the idea of seeing this big black python in person that got me so aroused? Was it the same thing that drew me to the dicks pounding into the girls in every video? And why did I care to see him in person?
There was another kind of draw, a thrill in visiting one of those seedy, jack shack porn theaters that faded so quickly out of the lives of everyone not desperate for discrete, anonymous sex. I'd only been inside an actual porn store once, an adult store that I'd always passed on family road trips out north. It hadn't been anything special.
Not compared to the internet anyways.
There should have been a period of deliberation, an internal struggle that carried out in my mind for half an hour rationalizing the pros and cons of this path. Instead, my fingers worked on the touchscreen, dribbling out my barely hidden desire.
Okay, 10:00?
His response got me going.
By 10:15 you're going to have my cock down your mouth. You'll love it. You can finally get that big dick you can't get at home.
The self-delusional convincing took place largely in on the twenty-minute drive up to the arcade. I didn't need to actually reveal myself to him. I could just linger, looking over the videos before he got bored. Worst case scenario, I go home with a video or two, but at least I tried to do something slightly sexual.
It had been nearly a month.
Not that longer periods weren't possible, especially after the k**s. But I'd always hoped that things would pick back up again after Carson and Kelly left for college. That we would waltz around naked, spending hours in each other's arms like when we were teenagers. Instead - I was so keyed up by the lack of attention, I was considering peeping at some stranger I met on the internet.
But my building erection didn't care. I had one last chance to back out, one more of semi-clarity when I reached for the handle to the car door. It was like that moment before letting go on a gigantic waterslide, that last lingering chance to back out of something that seems so incredibly stupid, and yet at the same time tickles another more basic instinct.
I entered the store with trembling steps, my stomach twisting and turning, but my prick was thinking for me. I hadn't spent any time in these stores, so the shelves spilling forward with sex seemed a little shocking to take in. Still, nothing about the place surprised me, except for the door at the back with the word THEATER written on it. There were shelves lined with DVDS, an area for various lingerie and other outfits, another organized by type of toy.
At first, I expected him to be there, already waiting to ambush me.
I know it was more than a little insane, but my mind drifted to a dozen different conversations where he outed me as some sort of faggot in front of the store. Not that there was anyone around at 10 on a Tuesday, just me and the cashier, an older looking bald white man more interested in an ESPN magazine.
So I waited, awkwardly pouring over different titles until I relaxed. I even picked out a few from the bargain bin, some large black gang bang video paired a package with a tranny dvd. Excited about my purchase, I began thinking he probably wouldn't even show.
The door clanged opened, my eyes riveting to the husky black male entering the room. He was a little older, maybe fifty, a shaved head and a very thin goatee. He had a little bit of a stomach, nothing big given his large barrel chest and muscular arms. Still, something about the way he stepped into the room, exuding a natural confidence, convinced me beyond any doubt he was the one from the ad.
That and the lack of customers signaled this wasn't a coincidence. Then I considered that he might have the same thought about me. Self-consciously, I tried to avoid his gaze, feigning interest in the collection of DVDS. I would glance up, openly staring at him, stopping only when his eyes met mine.
I couldn't have been more obvious.
He started to shadow me, and I'm sure I gave a thousand other little tells. He moved slowly, letting me get used to his presence even as he stepped within arm's length of me.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" He said in a low whisper.
"Uh... I don't think so..." I said lamely.
"Really?" He asked. "Because you know, someone was supposed to meet me here."
"Sorry..."
"You know," He cut me off. "Sometimes a girl will get online, post an ad on just to get that rush. Those girls are real nasty, they like to see all the guys that wanna fuck 'em, but they never intend to follow through with anything, you know?"
"Yeah," I said, wanting to end the conversation.
"Sometimes it's a dude though," He said. "Usually you can tell though. They find bullshit pictures from some porn site. They share way too many nude shots. You get a sense for that, the fakes. They want you so horny that you'll let a guy make you nut."
"Hey man-"
He moved closer.
"Are those are pictures of your wife?" He said. "She know you're out here tonight?"
"Man it wasn't..."
Then my pocket started to ring, just a little vibration than made me shoot up in terror.
"You don't have to get that," He said. "The person you want is right here."
I couldn't speak. I swallowed, forcing down every stupid thought and excuse I had, unable to believe I'd been so foolish.
"Does your wife know your sharing pics of her?"
"I'm not married," I said quickly.
"You got that ring," He said. "I think you are. So what is a married boy like you doing? You trying to suck dick for the first time?"
"No, I just,"
"No, you just what?"
"I - I wanted to see it. Just to see it."
"You can see it," He said smoothly. "Just ask Daddy..."
"What? I'm not going to..."
He shushed me, his hand reached out to touch my lips. It was weird, made more so because I docilely obeyed.
"You don't have to say anything," He said. "We can do whatever you wanted. Just go get us some tokens from the clerk."
I glanced at the older man, still immersed in his magazine from across the room. I don't think I could have crossed the room if it had been anyone else - especially not if a woman worked the registered. That he didn't give any indication of caring about anything we were up to allowed me to cross the room, quietly sliding a twenty onto the glass countertop.
"What do you want?" The clerk said, barely looking up from his magazine.
That was a blessing, his eyes would have bored into me, silently judging me for what I was considering. What else could he have thought, with me presenting my money and then walking to the back with another man?
"Tokens," I said quietly.
"Oh, well you'll have to leave those here," He said, pointing down to the DVDS still clutched in my hand.
"Right - sorry," I answered quickly.
"Just clean up after yourselves," He said, returning to his magazine.
I was already through the door at the other side of the room before I caught the plural at the end of the word, following the large black man I had already called Daddy once or twice in my head. There should have been more resistance, more manliness in me that might stand up to this immediate assault of my sexuality.
No - it was more than that. Something more submissive. Real men might decide to go out and fuck a man, even at an adult bookstore. But none of this was my idea or suggestion. Once shown that cock, so mesmerizingly big, I just let myself be led by my own lust.
Did I really think he would just show me his cock? That he only wanted a hand job?
But at this point, I couldn't have suspected his real idea.
The THEATER door let to small corridor, a miniature hallway with identical rooms that swung openly easily enough. Inside the little room was a bench, big enough to seat two, and a video screen with several flashing buttons.
"Go ahead," He said, his hand on my backside as he pushed me into
I inserted all the coins, bumbling with them as I nervously tried to avoid taking the next step. The screen changed from a soft blue to a video of a woman taking three or four gigantic black cocks. I could hear her moans as they took turns with her mouth, directing her from dick to dick, just like I imagined.
It was different being here with him, exciting and frightening even as I tried to pretend I was alone. Still, I could sense his presence. Not only that, there was a building worry about being discovered, that someone else might open the door where we basked in the light of the tiny pornographic light and assume I was gay.
Amazing, how I still clung to my preconceived fantasy about what was happening, in spite of the obvious.
The girl on the screen was blonde with smaller breasts barely bouncing as she slurped down each of them greedily. But I wasn't really watching her; my eyes riveted on the black b**sts going in and out of each hole.
"You like this kind of porn?" He asked.
I nodded.
"Do you like big dicks?" He said.
I tried to nod, but he wouldn't have any of it.
"Speak up," He said.
"Yes," I managed.
"Yes, Daddy," He corrected. "Now go ahead, tell Daddy what you want?"
I hesitated, there was something keeping me from simply saying it out loud.
"Come on," He coaxed. "You've seen it before, just say it."
"Can I see?"
"Just say it. What's so hard about that? I'll even let you touch if you like. But you gotta say it. Say Daddy, can I see your dick."
I tried mumbling it, only for him to make me start again.
"So I can hear it."
"Daddy..."
The word made me sound so c***dish, seeking out like a little girl begging for a favor. But it only made the rest much easier to say compared to calling another man Daddy.
"Can I see your dick?"
"Sure you can," Daddy said, fishing out his cock from his gym shorts.
It seemed even bigger in person, his cock almost shiny even as a silhouette against the soft hue from porn playing in the background.
But I only heard the moans from the video, already completely encapsulated by the thing in front of me, longer than my hand, and not even all the way out of his waistband. A vein stuck profoundly, almost like two crossing bolts of lightning or a branch on a large tree trunk. He flopped out, making me all too aware that he wasn't even erect.
He pulled down on his shorts again, and his balls stretched out over his shorts. He started stroking himself, the b**st growing in front of my saucer-shaped eyes. I might have blinked or rubbed my eyes to convince myself that this was actually happening. Here in front of me was a man at least two or three times my length. In every way, Daddy's dick was superior, bigger, thicker, already gleaming with pre-cum.
I bet he never wanted for an orgasm. He could tempt anyone with that cock.
He certainly was tempting me.
But I was no cheater. I mean, sure I was in an adult bookstore, but I'd never strayed from Laura. I had no interest in throwing away ten years of marriage on a whim. I would watch until we both came, then leave without ever risking an STD or anyone ever knowing.
"Do you want to touch it?" Daddy asked.
Did I?
I asked myself already knowing the answer, already with excuses and justification on hand to explain why this was okay.
I mean, it's not like there was any risk it that? Besides, I wondered what it would feel like. His dick had a dark, almost leathery look to it, the veins bulging out from the dark flesh.
When would I ever get the chance again?
I tapped my fingers against my knees, giving him enough of a signal. He grabbed at my wrist, pulling me gently towards him, clasping his strong, dark hands around my tiny fist. His skin was silky, both smooth and bumpy along those thick, lined veins. He started moving my hand up his shaft, my hand engulfed by his. But it didn't matter, I could feel myself stroking him, giving out my first hand job.
Soon enough, he didn't have to help me. My hand covered nowhere near half of him, sliding up and down to his off-colored head, already dripping with pre -cum. His fluids secreted down the length of him, blending with his skin and my hand.
I kept stroking, moving faster, gripping hard. He was so heavy, so hard to manipulate in this way. He seemed to sense me struggling and stood up, moving in front of the screen to block the image of the girl getting pounded by massive dicks in every single hole.
As I jerked him closer to my face, I could really feel the weight of him, the girth heavy and hard to grip. I went faster, trying to ignore the slow, shuffling steps he made towards me. He grew closer and closer, until only a few inches away from my mouth, clearly expecting it.
Dottie
- 20.04.2022
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Becoming A Sissy Slut part 2
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