Nov 5, 2008

Secret Desires

I can't stop thinking about it. I keep trying to drive it out of my head because I don't want to admit that it's on my mind at all. But, no matter how hard I try, it's still there. It's haunting me.

Two weeks ago, my girlfriend invited her old boyfriend over to our apartment for dinner. There was a lot of wine and, despite my discomfort, a lot of flirting. Sharon couldn't seem to keep her hands off of Charlie, her former flame. For a little while, I almost felt like I wasn't in the room at all; that it was all some kind of bad dream. That was until Sharon turned to Charlie and told him what a good lover he was and how unsatisfied she's been with me for the four years we've been together.

"I'm serious, Charlie. He's awful. His dick is too small and he can't eat pussy to save his life. I want him to be good at something; I mean, I love having him around but he can't please me."

The silence was deafening. It seemed like everything was hinging on the next words to come out of her mouth.

"I'd like to see what he can do for you, though, if you're open to it," she said with a smile, her hand on his knee.

The grin on Charlie's face unfurled as he pushed back from the dinner table and began undoing his pants. "Certainly, I'll see if he can be of any use."

"Okay, Louis, let's see what you can do."

I don't know what possessed me. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the tone of her voice. Maybe it was the chance to make good in Sharon's eyes. Maybe it was the sight of Charlie's cock as he released it from his pants. My eyes were drawn to it and I couldn't look away. I felt like a sleepwalker as I knelt and crawled to him.

I took him in my hands, amazed by the sheer weight of his organ. It wasn't some freakishly huge porn star penis, but, still, I was taken aback by its girth and the way it felt in my hands as I began stroking it. I loved the touch of it, the way it reacted, the life there in Charlie's cock. There was something beautiful about it. Something compelling. I put my mouth on it to kiss it and felt it jerk and jump under my lips. I put it between them, putting it into my mouth and feeling the velvety smoothness of his cockhead against my tongue.

I felt his fingers enter my hair and take ahold. He began moving me up and down the length of his cock, pushing it further and further into my mouth, pushing me all the way down and holding me there, my eyes watering and gagging slightly. I could feel the tight flesh of his balls under my chin.

As he held me there, it felt like a floodgate were opening in my head, something changing inside of me. And then I felt another flood as his cock leaped and spat, filling my mouth and throat with his warm liquid. As I swallowed, it felt as if I were imbibing a new life...but a life that I would deny.

Now it's two weeks later and I can't get the thought of Charlie's cock out of my head. I can't stop thinking about that evening and wanting it to all happen again, and more. I've lain awake at night imagining Charlie taking me up in his arms, holding me, hugging me. I've thought about us laying in bed together, him behind me, spooning me, feeling the hardness of his cock rousing beneath my bottom and thinking about how it might feel to have him slide it inside of me, into my ass.

This is terrible. This is something I can't admit to Sharon, to Charlie, to anyone. I don't even know if Charlie is the man that I've been thinking of, but that I've been thinking of any man at all, wanting this, is disastrous. I never thought like this before. These kind of thoughts have never crossed my mind but, now, they're all I ever think about.

Worse, Sharon keeps reminding me about our time with Charlie. She's brought it up every day since then and has invited him over again tonight. She keeps referring to me as her "little cocksucker" and, every time she does it, I get aroused. I can't tell her that, of course. I frown and shake my head and secretly hope that he will put me on my back, raise my legs above his shoulders, and make me his tonight.

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