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His lips were pressed firmly around the soft cylinder of his best friend’s cock. It was bigger than his and was fully erect. They had been streaking with a camp out of girls two backyards away. He and his brother Tom were both naked and he had lost a “dare” in a naked version of truth or dare. They were Freshmen in college.
That was the first time he’d experienced anything you’d consider bisexual, and that last time he’d physically be involved directly. He would recall this over and over as he chatted online to anonymous men in chat rooms and eventually the instant message feature of AOL.
“My lips press hard around you,” Donnie would chat and then just fantasize. “My tongue presses on your tip, tasting your clear prequel.”
He would make up the rest, how he would “gag on your length” or “cup your balls as I take the rest.” He would milk his own precum chatting with several men at a time, getting them off and roaming rooms for others to start it all over again. One night, while his wife was away, he got 20 men off before cumming hard into the sweatshirt he had worn all day.
Their sex life just wasn’t what it was after their son was born, not that they’d set the world on fire in the bedroom before that time. It dropped off after the birth, he had turned to masturbation to the new world of online images, chats through AOL. The fantasy world opened up and he would create multiple names on AOL, some even female as they would get more interest. He could chat anytime about sex and found he enjoyed being a woman to a man’s desires.
Donnie discovered it was easier and hotter to chat with men in the bi-curious chats, with other married men in the same situation. He would type in 32 MWM and there would be a half-dozen requests that he could start conversations, looking for the most interesting one or just chat with as many as he could. He really like to weave a good story, most times having to be the top, forcing his cock in places just getting to image what that would feel like stroking in the downstairs office.
“You top or bottom” would pop up and he’d say bottom, but then “me too” would appear. He was quick to take control and claim he was “switch” and go top in the message exchange. That was not him in his married bed, Donnie always had trouble being aggressive, pushing his desires on his wife. He was horny as hell, reserved to push for kinky things and often for sex at all. Online he would push and be more dominant, talking about ramming his cock deep in a guy’s throat.
He did look for women online and chat with, often trying to stay connected with those showing interest. He found himself chatting with an older woman who lived a few hours away south, and he also helped a young college girl with some science problems and continued an online friendship with her for years.
Donnie frequented a local gay chat that he monitored as there were gay men, in a city just 30 minutes away looking to hook up. This was way before apps that you could swipe your way to a hookup and Donnie chatted up to the point that he had to do something about his curiosity, then he’d back away.
He often would find someone in the chat and flirt with the idea of meeting up at a driving range, or workout facility. Donnie had a female hotel worker interested, a nicely curved African American who pulled the plug on him meeting her as he had to work in the city.
One weekend, his wife Mel left to visit her parents with the baby, but because of work Friday night he had to stay back. The next day, it was kinda rainy out so he was online early in the morning. Donnie hit the local board heavy, after a night hitting the random chats and messenger exchanges, getting off twice.
It was late morning and he’d began in the chats again, having gotten a few guys off, when he started chatting with a man from Des Moines with the username DSM0945. He was very engaging and asked personal questions about his curiosity, his body and his profession. It made Donnie very at ease in the way he made it all about Donnie.
DSM0945 asked Donnie if he’d consider meeting up with someone that night and of course Donnie was a little timid. He had started drinking earlier than planned and after getting asked again a little later admitted he’d “considered” the offer and got an address. He was giddy, scared and excited about the thought as they continued to talk.
“I’m actually asking for an older business man, who’s wife is travelling” DSM0945 sent in the next message. “He lives in the old money section of town.”
Donnie knew where that was from his days living in a suburb of DSM, and was down by one of their favorite blues bars. He chatted about the area, the bar, but the guy wasn’t a public guy, that’s how much money he had. He talked about how fit the older man was, his 8″ cock and that maybe they could golf together after tonight.
“There’s a group of guys who like to get younger guys out to golf with them,” the message said. “They like to show them off.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Donnie answered back, Anadolu Yakası Escort not sure what he felt about that, buzzing from wine and erect from attention.
“Yeah, they pay good money for it too, no real strings attached,” It went on. “Unless strings are okay.”
Donnie wasn’t sure on what to do. He had told Mel he might go into DSM for dinner and maybe to some music, but this was wild to consider.
“Listen, he’d just meet you tonight and give you $250,” it said.
They had good jobs, but were a little overextended on credit and things, Donnie hadn’t become a good budgeter yet and $250 was a nice sounding number. He got a little courage and responded.
“And what if ‘strings’ were included?” He dared to ask.
“Oh, you’re just curious, I wouldn’t push it and he likes companionship,” The message pushed back surprisingly. “There’s no rush.”
“I like his size,” Donnie continued to push. “I’ve had experience with my friend who was 8″”
Donnie went on to tell him about his experience with his friend in college and how he would be up for being naked together and sucking him possibly. “If drinking, I’m sure that would work.”
“You’re sure?” the message asked.”He’s about 8″, thick and again he’s very fit.”
“Positive,” Donnie quickly responded, his cock hard with excitement, he’d been ingesting his pre-cum as it went hard, soft, hard, soft, hard like a pump for the sweet fluid. “I’m in good shape and this sounds wonderful.”
“If you’re both naked and you perform an act, we’re talking $500 minimum and he’s a good tipper if you’re going to hang around, clean him, swallow, that kind of stuff.”
That was a lot of money to live out a fantasy he’d had recurring since finding the blogs, chats and other online fetish outlets. He thought of the credit card he could pay off or the gift he could buy Mel with the money.”
“I’ll see if he’s still got no plans for the evening,” DSM0945 said. “I’ll be back online after 5 p.m.”
Donnie drank more and got on chats, getting more men off. He chatted long and hard with one guy, who claimed he came twice. His cock was out as he talked to Mel about his plans to go to DSM to the “Blue Note” to see “Rodney’s Review”. She talked about the baby and what she and her folks were doing for dinner. Hanging up afterwards he was amazed at the lack of guilt he felt, and continued his long chat before finally getting another guy off.
The clock inched towards 5 p.m. so he got a little dinner, having skipped lunch and not wanting to bloat himself. There was golf on the afternoon TV and he flipped through the channels, trying to take his mind off what was upcoming. The rain cleared and the sun actually came out of the clouds.
Donnie got back online and waited, going through emails and clearing up his history, always fearing having Mel comb through his computer. His heart leap, stomach tossed as the message appeared from DSM0945.
“He’s available tonight,” it said. “Are you still interested?”
Without much pause Donnie responded, “Yes I am.”
“Okay, great then here’s what we’re thinking,” DSM0945 said. “Stop by the house between 7-8 p.m. as he’ll be showered and we’ll meet in his study. He’s not a big dinner guy but will have a very nice selection of wine and drinks for you two to get to know each other.”
He said he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with going further than that, but said he’d, “Play it by ear, depending on how well they hit it off.”
“He’s not into quick hook ups and if you come and hit it off, he’ll want to see you again,” the message read.
Donnie hadn’t projected out past this encounter and that worried him immediately. He thought long and hard, did he really want to do this and the strings soon felt like ropes binding him to something hinging on his decision that night. He left a long pause as he thought this through.
“Listen, we know you’re married, we know you have a good job that you don’t want to mess up,” the message said. “When I say ‘see you again’ we’re talking about when it’s good for both of you AND we could tie it to a second job. No promises, but if you likes you it could revolve around golf, or work, or anything you could come up with, he has the resources to make it so.”
Holy shit, Donnie thought. Sex, money, a path to the “good life” flashed before his eyes. He was a personal person and with this curious, insatiable, online life that he visioned blossoming in real life.
“Sounds promising,” he responded finally. “What’s next?”
“1143 Pinehurst drive,” the next message said. “Arriver no earlier than 7 p.m and no earlier than 8 p.m. I’ll be there too, making sure it goes well.”
Donnie was buzzing, remembered he’d actually chatted some with DSM0945 and remembered he said he had a 7″ cock and they had gotten some chat in, though neither came during the chat.
“Two for one?” he typed playfully.
“Don’t rule it out at some point,” he typed. “Most likely not tonight, I think you have more than you İstanbul Escort can handle.”
Donnie let it go, but in his mind thought, “what the hell, find out tonight.”
Again he was amazed at the guiltless phone call he made back to his wife, laughing and even flirting a little with his buzz still lingering. He wanted it to fade as he had another hour before driving and didn’t want to be too drunk and have an accident.
Like most social drinkers, he had an unrealistic opinion of his drunk driving, and drunk sexual abilities. He was able to rationalize and partition away his infidelity, the danger of the drinking, driving and entering a man’s home he’d never met. He knew it could be a set up, he could be chopped up and used for dog food by a psychopath. He was ready to take a gamble on this new life experience that was tethered to a cock in his mouth in college.
At that point in his life, he’d hadn’t even played much with toys or other items in his arse, yet was convinced if things went well he’d have one cock in his mouth and one fucking him from behind. He showered, trimmed everywhere, getting rid of his pesky shaft hairs, leaving the bush around his balls, but cleaning those as well. Mel liked to take them in after they were smoothed off.
He got in the car, with a bottle of wine, drank with the sunroof down, music blaring as he drove down the interstate, and singing to 80s rock. The playing it safe was out the window for the moment and he felt invincible. Donnie made sure to set the cruise at five over the speed limit, shouldn’t get picked up that way and had poured the wine into a nondescript thermal glass that held about ½ the bottle. The rest was stashed deep under his seat.
He imagined a lot of things driving into town most involving how to go from just a meet and greet to something more. He wondered if he’d even pull in the driveway thinking he could just go listen to music. His mind kept going back to a nice cock attached to a fit, rich man who was going to pay him for just meeting. Maybe that’s all, let’s just meet Donnie thought.
The miles spun by, his excitement and eagerness built up but so did the anxiety. Donnie did think of his young marriage and the implications for a moment, the rationalization and misleading thoughts that he could control the situation with “Guys Golf outings” or “new work”. He settled on he’d see what the situation was and stay in control. As the Instant messages said, “He’s discrete and if it’s not for you, he’d respect that.”
The 45 minute drive was ending as he exited the interstate and headed to the rich area of DSM, just west of the capital. 1143 Pinehurst drive was indulled in his mind and he had looked on a map online and had the route figured out. It wasn’t too far off Ingersol, taking a right on 12th street that ran into Pinehurst.
His stomach started bouncing in nervous fashion as he pulled onto Ingersol, knowing he was just blocks away. He went to change lanes and almost cut off a pickup, catching himself just in time, letting it pass. He breathed deep, changed lanes and soon was taking that right on 12th St.
Two blocks away as he approached Pinehurst he turned, noticing the beautiful houses on both sides, older brick, craftsman houses with well groomed yards. He looked and the addresses were in the 1200s as he drove slowly towards his destination. The nerves bubbled up, was he going to do this or back off and head to the bar? The anxiety flooded in and began to smother the excitement. He saw 1145 pass slowly and he knew it was the next house, seeing the front porch lights on.
His groin swelled, hands sweated and stomach this time did a full flip. There were pillars on the front, understated and elegant, the address lit prominently on a rock towards the front “1143”. He gulped and slowly drove past the drive. He couldn’t do it.
(AUTHORS NOTE – EVERYTHING PRIOR TO THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED – FROM HERE ON OUT IT’S FANTASY)
Almost relieved, he drove a little quicker. “What was I thinking?” he said aloud, heading down Pinehurst past 12th St. He looked back one more time, and in his rearview Donnie saw a Des Moines Police car now ½ block behind him. He got nervous, knowing he’d probably blow over the legal limit.
He tended to keep his cool in these situations, Donnie’s car was newer so wasn’t out of place and everything worked. In his mind he flashed back to the changing lanes having a near accident. Had the police seen that? Maybe he was swerving a little and didn’t know it, or did he cut the turn to tight turning onto Pinehurst. He continued down looking for a street that took him up to Ingersol, not knowing there were few by design, instead it forced him south away from the main road and kept the police following him.
Des Moines City jail had to be a cluster fuck of all kinds of people Donnie thought as he took the next right trying to get back to 11th and head up. He kept his speed at the limit and thought of his options, Donnie had a quick mind for these Ümraniye Escort things having gotten out of a couple tickets and another OWI with quick thinking.
He purposefully turned onto 12th, instead of 11th to see if he was following and quickly decided if he did follow him he’d pull into 1143, as he definitely didn’t want a night in the DSM jail. He pulled onto 12th, held his breath and saw the headlights follow.
“Shit!” he called out, took a quick left onto Pinehurst and wheeled past the rock displaying “1143”, calmly getting out of the car and walked purposefully towards the front door. The officer was looking at him, driving slowly as he reached for and pushed the doorbell.
He could hear the police cruiser moving slow, feeling the officer’s eyes carefully accessing the situation. Donnie was relieved to know he looked nice enough in dockers and a polo, hair pretty solid, knowing he’d dodged a certain OWI. He felt giddy as he heard hard footfalls coming from what had to be a basement before the door swung open.
“Donnie?” The tall, mid-40s aged man asked.
“Yes, Donnie Tolbert,” He said his full name extending his hand. “Glad to meet you.”
“James, James Abbott,” he said with a slightly British accent extending his hand to meet Donnies and shaking it vigorously. “We thought you may have gotten cold feet and drove by, not much traffic up here.”
“I did get cold feet at first, but circled back,” Donnie said without going into all the details looking up and down the foyer that was both classic and updated, obviously well cared for and smelled clean. “What a wonderful home.”
“Follow me downstairs, Mr. Donovan is waiting in the den,” James said, Donnie thinking ‘of course there’s a den.’ “He’s pleased you made it this evening.”
They made it to the bottom, and the space opened up into a larger and tall room, hardwood everywhere and rugs to cover it on the floor. Pictures artfully done of golfing scenes, not photos but paintings. There was a bar near a gas-lit fireplace that ran more for the ambiance than heat on such a warm spring evening.
Leaning against the bar was a slender, 5′ 11″ man, with silver, full hair, an open shirt, but sports coat on sipping on a rocks class of what Donnie figured was the finest of bourbons or whiskey as it was brown. He must have just poured a fresh one. He turned and had a broad smile, his first impression must have been satisfactory for him. Donnie didn’t know how this would not go, his nervousness began to rise, his imagination causing stiffness lower, but also apprehension.
“Colton R. Donovan,” the man said extending his hand. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”
“Donald Tolbert,” Donnie said shaking his hand. “But most people just call me Donnie.”
“Donnie, it is then,” he said turning to the bar. “What can I get you to drink young man.”
“I’ll have what you’re having, if I may,” Donnie said confidently.
“Finest bourbon around,” Mr. Donovan said, dropping ice out of a bartop cooler with ice tongs and beginning to pour from a bottle that was on the bar. “Aged Bushmills, 21 years to be exact. Donnie, tell me about yourself.”
Good leaders of men make the conversation about you. Donnie first talked about his profession, “I’m a high school science teacher in a small town just west of here, Van Meter.” Impressed some with the profession, he made a positive statement about education in Iowa and refocused on him, “You see yourself doing that all your life? It doesn’t make much money.”
“Of course I do Mr. Donovan, I enjoy the students, the families and I enjoy coaching,” Donnie said sincerely. “Every day is a different day and I feel I’m a positive influence in their lives and in my district.”
“Very good, very good,” he said nodding his head, smiling and looking over at James. “Conviction is one of the best traits to have, that and passion. What is it you coach?”
They spent two drinks on Donnie talking about their state tournament run in baseball two years ago, Mr. Donovan having played in college and had heard of that run as it was the first time Bob Feller’s hometown had made the state tournament. “I saw the ‘heater from Van Meter’ pitch in Chicago when I was a kid, my Dad taking me as we’d heard he could throw 100 mph.”
The conversation died down a little as Mr. Donovan had to go to the bathroom. James leaned in and said, “he likes you very much” causing Donnie to remember why he was there as he was surprised he felt very at ease, like meeting an administrator from another school district or someone’s boss for the first time and it goes well.
“Let’s play some pool,” Mr. Donovan said hitting a light switch and illuminating a grand table with can lights from high in the ceiling. The men moved there, James bartending and staying in the background, sipping on a drink and listening, answering only when Mr. Donovan spoke to him.
“Tell me about your family,’ Mr. Donovan said, further normalizing the situation. “James says you have a son?”
Donnie gushed about his son, bringing him home, holding him, the late nights and the new family dynamic. Mr. Donovan shared he had three grown sons and two daughters, touting all of their accomplishments and where they stood with jobs and where they lived. “Jessica is currently between jobs and relationships” was the only semi-negative comment he heard.
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