MARK
In my thirties I got my first full-time job in my field, deep in the Midwest in a town near a small city. My spouse maintained an apartment in New York City and came for one or two-month-long visits. So, I needed to try to establish something regular where I was, but not with a gay guy because I didn't want a relationship, just sex.
With regular sex available anytime with my spouse, I wanted to explore my masochistic desires in greater depth, but without any sort of relationship in mind other than sexual. I figured that this was both doable and appropriate because these kinds of guys are usually looking for a "no stings" situation anyway.
Luckily for me, my husband was okay with me exploring these purely sexual liaisons, as long as they were discreet, so there was no need to hide these affairs from him (in fact, we discussed them and even sometimes "shared" these men in sexual encounters together). This was still before there was any effective treatment for AIDS and so developing regular suck buddies who were primarily straight and married seemed like a more sensible approach to the risk of contracting disease than having multiple anonymous encounters in the park or the porno movies, as we had both done earlier.
So, I started to answer some personal ads placed in a weekly newspaper published in a small city about thirty miles away. Most of the ads were by straight guys looking for women, and a few women and gay men looking for romance, but every so often, very rarely, married guys looking for head placed an ad there. These were often written in vague terms that could be interpreted as either seeking male or female cocksuckers. I imagine most of the responses to these ads were from fags. I replied to a few of these, but I never got any responses.
Then I saw the following ad:
SMM [straight, married male] needs regular oral from GM [gay male], no reciprocation, no anal, no strings. Send description and provocative letter to P.O. Box XXX.
What struck me was that he explicitly ruled out anal sex (he just wanted oral service), but more importantly, he was asking not just for the usual stats such as height, weight, age, etc., but his request was for a provocative letter.
So, I very carefully crafted a seductive letter designed to arouse his latent, aggressive instincts and his lust to dominate another guy. I knew that there would probably be dozens of gay bimbos responding to his ad, so I figured that my only chance of breaking through would be for my written response to really stand out from all the many others he would undoubtedly receive.
I knew the letter couldn't be too long --- I realized that I had to grab him in the first sentence if I wanted to arouse his interest enough to not just put it aside and go on to the next letter. The words I used needed to be strategic, first to pique his interest, work him up, get him all excited and then abruptly to end, ultimately leaving him wanting more.
I wish I still had that letter now. It included lots of self-deprecating name-calling, referring to myself as "cocksucker," "faggot," "queer," "bitch" and other such denigrating words in describing my own abject, masochistic, cringing unworthiness before his implied superior manhood. So, he knew that if he wanted to, he could call me these humiliating names during sex, to which after all, I referred to myself.
Email was relatively new at that time, and I included my email address in the letter. He emailed me the very next day as soon as he got the letter from the post office box -- he had received my letter and was really turned on. He wrote that he liked to "skull-fuck" a guy's mouth real rough, and he hoped I liked that too. He wrote that his wife refuses to give him head, and so he wants to discreetly establish something regular on the side, with a gay guy who, as he put it, "wants his mouth raped," suggesting the aggressiveness and even violence of his desire. It turned me on.
He also made it clear that there was to be absolutely no reciprocation, that he didn't kiss and was disgusted by other men's cocks--would never even touch one--so don't expect anything from him in this regard. He was also (understandably) concerned about my HIV status and so I wrote back saying I would get a test that very afternoon and could bring the results to an encounter as early as tomorrow--so he could see from my quick response not only that I was willing to take action to demonstrate that I virus free, but he could also surmise that I would probably be a very obedient suck slave.
Seeing how quickly I responded and how enthusiastic I was to please, and realizing that I liked to write, he told me to write him a long email describing in detail exactly how I was inferior to him. He told me to take my time writing it, and to really "think about it" before sending it off. He said he would decide on whether or not to let me suck his dick based on how good the letter was at arousing him.
I worked on that email all evening and most of the next morning, drafting, rereading, editing, redacting -- and this is what I sent him around noon the next day:
You are superior to me in so many ways, I almost don't know where to begin. First of all, you're straight and I'm a faggot. Gay guys pretend to be just as good as straights, but we secretly know that deep down we're inferior when compared to a Real Man like you--that's why we're homos. Besides, you'd probably rather fuck a chick any day than just use a queer's mouth as a pussy or his face as a sperm target, so I realize right from the start that I'm at best a second-rate choice for dumping your load. I know that I will have to work especially hard to get you to make it worth your while to come back again.
Guys like me feel lucky if you treat us mean, if you call us names, if you show no respect for us. In fact, I feel lucky that you even responded to someone as submissive and masochistic as me. The main thing for you is showing and feeling your dominance and power, while at the same time it is both laughable and disgusting to think of a guy with as little apparent self-respect as me down there slobbering all over your dick, sniffing out your sweaty nuts, groveling at your feet, working so hard for your pleasure and getting nothing back except insults, slaps and orders; and even though I'm making you feel real good with my mouth and tongue, you never let me forget for a minute that I'm less of a man than you. The truth is, cocksuckers like me realized from childhood that we would never be like the other boys--not real boys, not into sports, not accepted as one of the guys, but instead were picked on and humiliated by bullies, and were too scared to fight back. By seeking out humiliation as adult masochistic queers--essentially the victims seeking out the bullies--we are just reenacting the patterns we established back then, to submit to the desires of another, more aggressive guy's sadistic whims in order to somehow merge with him in the blow job, thereby "importing" a degree of virility from a Real Man -- a Man like you, whose masculinity is not diminished but rather enhanced by letting a sick motherfuck like me suck your dick and obediently follow your perverse and degrading orders -- doing things you would never do for another guy. I need to capture, steal or "pirate" another guy's manhood in order to make up for my own masculine shortcomings.
For the subject line of the email, I put "In the Role." A few minutes later, I wrote him another email labeled "Out of the Role," where I told him that the previous email was role-playing and that I make a sharp distinction between my real self and the masochistic role I play in these kinds of sex scenes. I encouraged him to write his response to my email in the role.
He emailed me right back (in the role) to tell me what a sick motherfuck I was for wanting this kind of degrading treatment at the hands of some sadistic brute but that he was willing to dish it out if I were really "man enough" to take it and didn't "wuss out" on him. He followed up on that email with another labeled "out of the role" saying that he was really turned on and wanted to hook up later that same afternoon.
He wrote that he had arranged to leave work early and would meet me at a particular sports bar in the nearby suburb of the city where the newspaper was published in which he had run the ad. He never asked if I were free or would be willing to drive the half hour into the city to meet him. He seemed to just assume that I was a masochistic fag who craved the taste of cock so much that I would be willing to set aside any plans I might have made in order to cater to his burning sexual needs. (As it turns out, I did not have any commitments that afternoon, so I was available--and I admit that I really welcomed the bold, arrogant presumptuousness of his expectations.)
He wanted me to wear something to the bar that would identify me, so I told him I would wear an Italian soccer shirt with a particular player's name on it that would be unusual enough that no one else would probably be wearing the same one. However, he was not willing to describe to me what he would wear, I think because if he didn't like what he saw, he could leave without ever even having to make contact with me at all. He told me that we would go to a hotel quite near the bar for the blowjob itself. He had this all figured out beforehand. He said he didn't expect me to have to pay for part of the cost of the room, since it was me that was going to "do all the work," as he put it.
Since I had indicated that I didn't like anal sex either, he asked me to send him a list of the kinds of things I liked, and what I didn't want done to me, so he would know what his parameters were. This is what I sent him:
Undressing before the fully clothed Man while he watches; Kneeling before the Man naked; Down on the floor, licking the Man's boots; Groveling at his feet, telling the Guy how queer he is; Ordering the fag to take off his boots and socks. Having the queer kiss his bare feet all over; Sucking on each individual toe lovingly, as if it was a dick; Placing the sole of the Man's foot right on the fag's face, Sandwiching the guy's face between the Man's foot and the floor; Making the fag thank him while he is in this position; Then having the fruit do it all over again for the other foot; Not willing to let the fag off too easy, he doesn't allow him to touch his erection; Ordering the fag to kiss just the tip, then slapping him upside the face; Having the fag suck the Man's nipples and feeling up his hairy chest; Having the homo take off the Man's pants and underwear; Eagerly sniffing out and going all queer for the Man's sweaty crotch; Kissing and worshiping the Man's big hairy nuts; Hanging the Man's drooping ball sack across the fag's nose; Resting his hairy nuts on the sucker's chin; Slapping the fag around and insulting his manhood, Rubbing his dick in the fag's face; smacking him with it, Spitting right in the queer's face and calling the fag humiliating names; Slavishly sucking the Man's cock, once given the chance; Teasing his engorged prick, increasing the Man's bottled up aggression; Fucking the fag's mouth rudely, while the Man tells him how queer it is to let a guy do this; Purposely gagging the cocksucker on the Man's dick; Later, maybe pissing all over the pervert's face (but I don't swallow piss, so don't even ask).
I told him that he could freely have me to do any of the things I listed, and that as long as he stayed within these limits, he could be confident that I would obey unquestioningly.
I think he was shocked by the frankness of my response, because it gave him far more latitude than any fag had ever given him. He said that sadistic edge had been there all along for him, but he had never found a fag so open about it or who was even willing to talk about it. He said that he had never spit at or pissed on anyone, but he "would sure like to give it a try" with me. I could tell from the tone of his email how excited he was at the prospect of it. Although I gave him my basic stats, he didn't seem to care what I looked like, as long as I was a willing cocksucker whose mouth he could violate with impunity.
While driving to the bar, I thought about how shameful it was for me to be spending all this time coaching him, going to all the trouble of reading through the paper every week, finding the ad, carefully crafting the letter, writing and rewriting seductive follow-up emails, getting an AIDS test--all this just to maybe be the occasional suck slave for some married guy (if he'll let me), a dude who I realized not only wouldn't reciprocate, but who probably had nothing but contempt for cocksuckers like me--for him, he was just using some compliant, masochistic bastard to get his kicks at the fags expense. These humiliating thoughts thrilled me, and I rubbed my hardon on the way, as I drove to the bar, realizing how much I had already "queered" myself with him before we had ever even met.