"Turning My Tables" Chapter One Dedication: for Jason by jacob562026@gmail.com (responses welcome) Dear Reader,
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of something warm, or perhaps, even, something stronger.
Will you keep this private, just between us?
Most of the time, I'm all about women - radiant smiles, lovely eyes, full lips, long hair, sweet abs, tits firm or its soft, tits large or small, luscious pussies. A woman's femininity is delightful, alluring are her curves and sensual beauty.That's me, at least 90% of the time, delighting in women.
I'm also a hetero-dude. I like to be in charge, ex-military, and a professional. I like to be treated with respect and consideration by all. I don't suffer fools gladly.
Occasionally, though, there are moments that surprise. They arrive unbidden, cravings, mind overcome. You know how when you miss lunch, and you know you are getting a juicy cheeseburger, but your stomach is growling, and you have to wait? You just can't wait to stick that warm, tasty goodness in your mouth and eat? The craving is sorta like that.
Oh, you ask, what is this craving?
[deep breath]
Cock. I want cock. In my mouth.
I want to serve and worship a man's cock, to stroke his balls while I lick his shaft. to caress the smoothness of his perineum and lick his cockhead. I want to look up at him, meet his gaze, as I slide his cock into my mouth, tasting, worshipping, delighting. I want to hear his moans as I take him with my lips, mouth, and tongue. He will be mine, in my power, as I stroke, lick, and suck him, my head sliding back and forth onto his manhood. I will worship his cock and balls, and I will own him until he can't stand it, until his sweet balls tighten and his cock erupts salty spunk.
See why I want to keep this between us?
Jason and I were college roommates. I'm older, but I lived in his house. We graduated twenty years or so ago, then went on to graduate schools. I'm in my 50s, he's ten years younger.
When we roomed together all those years ago, we went out drinking, bummed around - he used to say funny things like, when I saw a hot woman, he'd say - wow, she's got an ass like a twelve year old boy. I'd laugh and roll my eyes. He'd grin mischievously. Or, another of his sayings was, he'd see a guy, and he'd say, wow, he's so pretty, I don't know whether to fight him or fuck him. I'd laugh and roll my eyes at that, too. That was the only possible evidence of any intimation of what might be considered gay, but I never took it that way, never viewed it like he was testing any waters with me or any other men. Rather, I viewed it like he was having fun, giving me a hard time. Jason always had a girlfriend, too. I figured he might even have been a player, but it was always with the ladies.Jason had a sharp mind, good sense of humor, active, wiry strong, angular facial features - he didn't have a belly or lift weights like me.
Well, that was all a long time ago, but recently, Jason got divorced. He and I had occasion to connect, overlapping business trips in the same small central Oregon town.
My belly was a little bigger, my face a bit more wrinkled, and his face was somewhat more wrinkled, too. Otherwise, though, we looked pretty similar, and we picked up right where we left off. It was like old times, admiring pretty women, laughing at Jason's off color yet hilarious jokes, catching up about work, family, and life.
After dinner, we went back to our cabin. We reckoned we'd split the cost since our trips overlapped. I looked forward to more laughter and getting caught up. I figured I might also be a listening ear for his divorce travails. Even when it's good, divorce is rough.
We cracked into some beers. I asked how he was doing with the divorce, told him I was happy to listen. He waved it off, taking a swig of beer.
Great hanging out with you, Jason said.
Yeah, I agreed, not having laughed like that in a while.
We talked about watching something, and Jason said he wanted to get a shower, then maybe hang out and drink some more, perhaps watch a movie.
Cool, I said. I like that idea. Why don't you grab a shower, and then I'll do so, too.
Cheers, he said, downing his beer.
I might just hang out in my towel, stay comfortable, I added.
Sure, he said, whatever.
He disappeared down the hall.
I swished beer over my tongue, swallowed, set down the bottle.
To my surprise, something took hold of me, tentacles in my brain.
I can't really describe it.
The best I can say is - a yearning, a hunger.
I took a breath, swallowed beer, and it came into focus.
Cock.
I wanted cock.
I wanted to touch it.
I wanted to hold it.
I wanted to lick it.
I wanted to suck it.
I needed it.
To slide it in and out of my mouth, to slide my head forward and back over it, tonguing it, lips holding it, tongue caressing it.
Jason's cock.
He would be my first.
I will capture him with my warm mouth, my full lips, my eager tongue.
I will suck him, stroke him, please him.
He will be mine, all mine, putty in my hands.
I'll make him want to cum, make him beg me to cum.
I'll conquer him, I thought
I'll make him cum.
I'll own him.
The shower turned on.
I felt excitement, then fear.
What in the world?
The only cock I'd ever touched was my own.
I've never held one, let alone licked one or sucked one.
What in the world was I thinking?
Would Jason just sit there and let me suck him and stroke him?
What if he told me, no?
What if he got pissed?
I licked my lips.
Hunger.
Taste.
I need to taste cock.
Jason's cock.
How will I do it?
How will I capture him?
A plan formed.
Yes, I said to myself.
Yes, I smiled, imagining myself on my knees, naked before Jason.
End Chapter One of "Turning My Tables"
Thank you for reading Chapter One of "Turning My Tables."
I welcome your thoughts - about any of this.
Would you like a second chapter?
Email me at jacob562026@gmail.com - and Happy Holidays!
-- jacob562026@gmail.com