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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Caught
by Eric's Toy (address withheld)
***
I had never acted out my gay impulses during many years
of married life, and I thought my secret was safe. But
my wife found out and decided to get even. (MMF, reluc,
1st-bi-expr, cuck, huml, leather-fetish)
***
"Recognize these?" My wife’s voice was cold as ice as I
saw what was spread on the bed in the hotel room. There
lay my leather gear, two didos, and many photographs of
gay sex. I looked at my wife, her face ablaze with
fury, tears in her eyes. She picked up my leather biker
cap and harness.
"Put them on," she ordered.
***
I have always known I was gay or at least bi, although
I had never had sex with a man. When I was younger I
had trouble having orgasms during sex with women until
I started to fantasize that I was the one being fucked.
I told myself it was normal for straight men to have
homoerotic fantasies or to enjoy variety. My deep
denial made it possible for me to marry and have two
kids, while my man-lust remained buried.
But that didn’t make for a great sex life, and I began
to play out my gay fantasies in private by buying gay
porno magazines and videos. Over time my sexual
fantasies about men turned to leather scenes, mild (
and sometimes not-so-mild) S&M, and older, hairy bear-
types. I’m of average height and slender, and I was
always the bottom.
I remember when I found an isolated adult book store a
few miles from my home and bought a studded leather dog
collar and a dildo. The first time I wore the collar
and worked the well-lubed dildo into my virgin ass in
front of the bathroom mirror was a moment of revelation
for me, the greatest sexual high I had ever
experienced. I had put on one of my wife’s pretty
watches and two of her rings for the occasion. I knew
what I was: an effeminate butt-boy, longing for a
rough, hairy stud to teach me my place. When I shot my
load, great gobs of jism spurted all over the bathroom.
I scooped it up and tasted it, loving every salty drop.
Once I started, there was no turning back. I wanted
more. I purchased other fetish gear on-line or at the
adult book store – a biker cap, black work boots, a
studded cock ring, sexy tight leather shorts with a zip
away strip over my ass and crotch, and a harness. I
bought the same kind of watch my wife wears, with a
thin black leather band and round white face. Because
my wife worked in the city and I often worked out of
the house, I had lots of time alone at home for my
fantasy fetish session. I figured out how to make a
"man" from couch cushions and other household items. I
would spread a sheet on the floor, grease the dildo,
and pleasure myself in every position I saw in the
videos.
It’s clear now that as time passed I started to get a
little careless about where I hid my toys and my
photos. The kids had gone off to college, so there were
fewer curious eyes to worry about. Usually I put the
stuff away in the attic and covered the box with other
bins and boxes. But as I found more times for elaborate
jerk-off sessions, I relaxed my precautions about
concealment. I downloaded pictures from internet sites
and forgot to erase them. Sometimes I left a gay DVD in
my computer for a couple of days before remembering to
put it away.
Probably I should have suspected something when my
wife’s demeanor changed. She became cooler and started
to avoid sex. That part didn’t bother me much because
my overheated leather sessions kept me well-satisfied.
I noticed sometimes that my secret stash of photos or
the box with my leather gear seemed to be in a slightly
different position, but told myself my memory was at
fault.
Then one day, out of the blue, my wife began to act
very friendly again and suggested a weekend at a hotel
in the city to rekindle our fires. Still loving her and
wanting to keep her happy, I promptly agreed. We would
meet after work on a Friday when I knew I had to be in
the city all day. She told me she would pack everything
and meet me in the hotel room.
***
My wife was waiting for me when I arrived. She had
changed into a skimpy black negligee. I found her pale,
smooth skin alluring and I moved to embrace her.
"Wait," she said. "I have something special to show
you. Go into the bathroom and take off all your
clothes. Wait until I call you."
I did as she instructed. A few minutes later she said,
"OK, come out here." Her tone had changed; I noticed an
edge to her voice that took me by surprise.
Opening the bathroom door, I received the shock of my
life when I looked at the bed. My wife stood with her
arms crossed, her eyes ablaze. Confronted by the
evidence of my homosexual fantasy life, I gulped and
felt my face redden in shame. As I started to mumble a
lame explanation, she silenced me with the order to don
my gear.
Maybe if I had not been caught off guard, I would have
refused or simply put on my clothes and left. Instead I
obeyed, as my wife offered nasty comments. "I see you
know just where everything goes. You must have had a
lot of practice. No wonder you don’t have the energy
for NORMAL sex," she sneered. She picked up my cock
ring and held it.
"Don’t forget the cap – it wouldn’t look MACHO without
the cap." The icy contempt in her voice cut through me
like a dagger.
As I pulled on my gear, I felt my cock stiffen
involuntarily. I turned to hide it from my wife. But as
soon as I was done, she walked over to me and reached
for the zipper for the crotch cover in my tight leather
shorts. The flap covering my cock, my balls and my
butthole came off in her hand, and my six-inch dick
stood up, hard as a rock. My balls felt swollen
already.
She grabbed my right wrist, on which I wore my pretty
woman’s watch. "Just like mine, huh?" she asked.
"Except on you it makes you look like a girlie-man.
That’s what you are, isn’t it?"
"Honey, OK, these are just fantasy objects. They don’t
mean any..."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP," she screamed, in a voice louder
than she had ever used in an argument. "Do you have any
idea how HUMILIATING this is to ME? To know you go
prancing around like some LEATHER FAGGOT?" Tears now
streamed from her eyes. I hung my head in shame.
"NOW PLAY WITH YOURSELF," she shouted between sobs.
When I hesitated, she demanded, "I SAID DO IT. YOU KNOW
YOU LIKE IT."
I was afraid someone would call the front desk or
something. Embarrassed as I was to be standing there
with my wife, it would be much worse to be seen this
way by a stranger. "OK, dear," I replied. "Just lower
your voice. I’ll do what you say." I began to pump my
stiff cock, which swelled even more. There was
something incredibly exciting to be doing that in front
of her. Then my wife snapped the leather cock ring
tight around the base of my dick and balls. With the
increase in pressure, I felt precum start to ooze
profusely from the tip of my prick.
Again she gave an order: "TASTE IT." By now my will to
resist her demands had collapsed. I ran my index finger
over the tip of my dick, collecting the slick prick
juice, and licked it off.
"I bet that’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own
cum, right?" I nodded, avoiding her gaze. "And you like
how it tastes, don’t you?" I nodded again.
"YOU’RE DISGUSTING! I FEEL SICK, JUST LOOKING AT YOU.
I’M PHYSICALLY SICK." She was breathing hard, her
cheeks flush with anger. "How many other men’s cum have
you tasted?"
"None. Honey, believe me, I’ve never had sex with
anyone but you since we’ve been married. You have to
believe me..."
"Really?" she asked, more a statement than a question.
"Then it’s time we proved that you really are a queer."
With that she walked over to the door connecting our
room to the next one. I saw that the door on the other
side was already open. And then it hit me:
We were not alone.
***
"Come in here, Eric," my wife said. "I want you to meet
my husband."
In walked a big, burly, leather-clad gentleman. If I
had to conjure up my fantasy leather daddy, he’d look a
lot like this heavy-set hunk who stood before me. He
was a good four inches taller than me and at least 250
pounds. (I’m only about 140 pounds myself.) Beneath his
leather cap his hair was close-cropped; he gazed at me
with commanding blue-grey eyes; his thick beard was
streaked with grey. He wore a studded leather harness
tight across his furry chest and his big beer gut, and
leather bands around his thick biceps. His huge thighs
were encased in tight black chaps. His cock, long and
heavy and already swelling, hung open between his legs.
He, too, wore a cock ring.
Eric walked across the room and extended his hand. I
shook it and he continued to hold it as our eyes met.
"A pleasure, boy, a pleasure," he said. "I’ve been
looking forward to this ever since your wife told me
about you." My mouth was dry. His grip sent a bolt of
sexual electricity through me. This man could do
anything he wants to me, I thought. I just nodded.
Eric reached out with his other arm and pulled me into
an embrace. I felt our cocks rub together, both
stiffening. Nothing had ever felt more wonderful, more
natural, than being in this man’s powerful arms,
feeling his big belly press against my slender waist. I
sighed aloud.
At first my arms hung by my side but then, as though
they had a will of their own, my hands began to run up
his thighs, across his hairy ass cheeks and around his
back. Eric’s hands found my little butt and squeezed.
I felt his bristly beard rub against my close-trimmed
one and then his lips brushed my neck. His hot breath
there cause me to sigh in pleasure. Without thinking
about it, I started to rub his back and arms, savoring
his strength.
From the corner of my eye I caught my wife’s hate-
filled glare. "KISS HIM!" she ordered. I turned my face
toward Eric’s and his lips brushed mine, once, twice,
then our mouths locked together. He grabbed my dog
collar so I could not retreat – not that I wanted to. I
parted my lips and his tongue thrust between my teeth
and explored my tongue. He tasted raunchy, traces of
cigarettes and beer. I loved it.
"God, I HATE FAGGOTS," my wife raged. "FUCKING QUEERS.
That’s so DISGUSTING."
She told Eric to sit on the chair by the desk. Then she
turned to me. "Get on your knees in front of him." I
did as I was told. "Now suck his dick." I took it in my
hand but hesitated. Eric’s dick was much bigger than my
dildo. I was afraid I’d gag on it. My wife, though,
would brook no resistance. "You know you want it,
girlie-man. SUCK IT!"
I looked up at Eric. He smiled at me. "Better do as the
lady says, boy, or I’ll have to get rough with you."
I brought my lips to the mushroom-shaped head of his
dick. It was smooth and glistened with his precum. I
swirled my tongue around the tip. The first taste of
his salty man-cream sent a shiver down my spine. This
is what I’ve always wanted, I thought, and I’m finally
doing it. I opened my mouth and slowly drew as much of
Eric’s meat in as I could. I felt his body tense and a
deep grunt escaped his throat. His pleasure thrilled
me. I began to move my head up and down, sometimes
pulling off him to swirl my tongue around the outside.
Then I lapped his balls as I pumped his shaft. "You’re
a natural cocksucker, boy," Eric gasped. His words
filled me with a new kind of joy, the joy a gay man
feels when he discovers he can please his partner
sexually.
As I drew Eric’s dick back within my mouth, I heard a
clicking sound. I realized my wife had our camera and
she was taking pictures as I went down on Eric.
I stopped sucking his dick and looked at her. "What are
you doing?" I asked in disbelief.
"You HUMILIATED me, you bastard," she cried. She was
trembling with anger. "And now I’m going to get even
with you. EVERYONE’S GOING TO SEE THESE!"
Eric broke the tension. "Don’t worry about it, boy. We
both know that you’re through with women. What do you
care what she does with her fuckin’ pictures."
And I knew at once that he was right. I was enjoying
man sex far too much to ever go back.
***
"Lie down on the bed, boy," Eric instructed me. I did
as I was told.
He straddled my chest and his bulk trapped me as his
stiff cock waved in front of my eyes. I could not have
moved him off me if I had tried. This is what it means
to be dominated, I realized.
"Open wide," Eric demanded in his firm, quiet voice.
"I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."
I parted my lips as I was told and was rewarded with
thick, hot manmeat. Eric thrust in and out of my mouth,
and I gagged. "Please, not so hard, I can’t," I gasped.
He laughed and shoved it right back in. I grasped his
thighs and thrilled at the sensation of the leather.
My wife leaned over, still taking pictures and still
making nasty comments. "I hope he CHOKES you with his
dick, you queen. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING
COCKSUCKER! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU MISERABLE HOMO FAGGOT!"
Her words turned me on even more. I sucked with new
enthusiasm and the instinct to gag subsided. Eric went
deeper in my throat and my dick got even harder.
Abruptly he stopped. Eager to swallow his load, I was
disappointed. He swung around and presented his ass to
me. It was huge and hairy as I ran my hands across it.
"Taste my ass, boy, get your tongue in my shitter."
With that he pressed his crack against my nose. All I
could see, all I could feel, were his vast, hairy
cheeks. I smelled the funky aroma of sweat and butt
juice. With my tongue I explored around his butthole.
Soon it was slick with my saliva. Then, tentatively,
hesitantly, I probed his anus with my tongue and worked
it inside. I was rewarded with a loud moan. "That’s it,
boy, get that tongue in deep. Yeah, let me feel it."
Eric’s words sounded far away.
My wife leaned over me. "God, that’s GROSS," she cried.
"I’ve never seen anything so FILTHY in all my life. ALL
YOU FAGS SHOULD BE ARRESTED FOR THE THINGS YOU DO!
YOU’RE PERVERTED! SICK!"
Eric had been holding my cock and pumping it gently.
Now he brought it into his mouth and swallowed it to
the base. I felt his lips brush my crotch hair as he
deep-throated me. I thought I would die from the
pleasure. My wife always hated sucking me and would
stop after the first dribble of precum.
As Eric pleasured me, I responded in kind. My tongue
thrashed about, in and out of Eric’s shithole, lapping
as if my life depended on it.
***
"I want you to fuck him, the little shit," my wife said
sharply to Eric. "That was our deal. You promised you’d
fuck him."
Eric withdrew, leaving me breathing hard, prostrate on
my back. I could scarcely believe what had been
happening – and what was about to happen next. Eric
went into the other room and came back with a rubber
and some lube. My wife glared at me; I said nothing to
her.
Returning to our bed, Eric told me to pull my knees to
my chest. He then began to lap around my ass, wetting
my curly butt fuzz, and followed by probing my butthole
with his tongue. The sensation left me writhing and
moaning. So this was what it feels to be on the
receiving end of a rim job! I thought, I could get used
to this in a hurry.
Then Eric squeezed some lube on my crack and started to
work it in past my sphincter with one of his thick
fingers. The whole universe seemed concentrated at one
point, my cherry anus, as he worked that digit in and
out. I felt a moment of pain as he pressed a second
finger into my unyielding hole and I willed myself to
relax. "Breathe, boy," Eric coaxed tenderly. I
appreciated the care he gave me. When both fingers were
in, I felt my muscles relax. He started a gentle
scissoring motion to stretch me. I felt my balls
swelling even more.
"Tell him what you want, FAGGOT," my wife sneered.
"Please, Eric," I murmured, "I want your big cock
inside me. I need it. Please – give me what I need."
With that, Eric withdrew his fingers. I heard him tear
open the condom wrapper. He pumped his cock a couple of
times, then unrolled the rubber over it. Still on his
knees, he moved between my legs, and I felt the tip of
his cock press against my waiting butt opening as he
shifted my legs onto his broad shoulders.
Our eyes met and he smiled at me as he increased the
pressure on my anus. I felt a burning sensation and
began to push back against his cock. It felt like a
baseball bat was being shoved into my rear as the
burning increased. I winced from the sharp pain. But
then my sphincter relaxed and the tip of his dick slid
into me. Slowly, slowly he pushed deeper into my back
passage.
The burning subsided, replaced by the most exquisite
sense of fullness and completeness I had ever
experienced.
Eric is fucking me, I thought. My wife is watching Eric
fucking me. Oh, God! I can’t believe this is finally
happening.
As Eric buried himself within me, I gripped his
powerful forearms. My hands seemed so dainty. I caught
a glimpse of my pretty watch. This is what I was meant
to be, a bottom for my manlover’s thick cock. A wide
smile of contentment crossed my face, and I uttered
girlish crises, "Ah! Mmm!" each time Eric thrust into
me.
My wife, her eyes wide at the sight of her husband
taking another man’s cock, could not contain herself.
"YOU SEE! YOU SEE! YOU LIKE THAT! You like being
fucked. This is so fucking HUMILIATING! I’m married to
a God-damn QUEER, a God-damn, stinking FAGGOT. YOU’RE
NOT A REAL MAN – NO REAL MAN WOULD LET HIMSELF BE
FUCKED!" New tears streamed down her face; her eyes
were red and swollen from crying. She snapped more
photos even as she screamed expletives at me
But my attention was fixed on my ass, on the amazing
feelings Eric’s huge tool produced as he began to move
in and out. Precum oozed from my dick, purplish and
swollen with pleasure. I looked up at Eric’s face. It
was contorted with pleasure.
"Do you like my ass, sir?" I asked. "I hope my ass
pleases you, sir."
He smiled down at me. "You’re a fast learner, boy. Good
to see that I don’t have to teach you good manners." He
started to pick up the pace, now that my ass muscles
were relaxing. I heard the soft, squishy sound a cock
makes when it plunges in and out of a tight, wet hole –
a cunt or an ass. The beautiful sound made by Eric’s
cock and my ass. The room filled with the aroma of my
back passage.
Our eyes met and he leaned forward to kiss me. Our
tongues met and his fucked my willing mouth.
I felt the weight of his round beer gut atop me. My
master likes me, I thought. I ran my hands up his hairy
biceps and over his shoulders. When he broke our kiss,
my hands explored his chest. I tugged on his harness
and kneaded his abdomen with my slender fingers. "You
are so sweet, sir," I cooed.
My wife looked ready to puke. I didn’t care.
***
The surge of a rising orgasm built within my cock. It
seemed to well up from some inner recess and take
control of my body. "I’m going to cum, sir! I can’t
help it. Please, sir, may I come?" Before Eric could
answer, mancream spurted from my dick slit in little
jets, flying across my chest and even reaching my
beard. The volume of jism amazed me – I hadn’t produced
anything like it since I was in my twenties.
By this time, my wife had had enough. I felt sorry for
her at that moment, even as she let her homophobia
erupt. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door
hard.
"Damn loud-mouthed bitch," Eric said with a shrug.
You’ll take orders from me now, not her."
"Yes, sir," I said, meekly.
He pulled out of me, leaving a void and momentary
disappointment. "Turn over on your knees, faggot." When
he used that word, it didn’t bother me.
My legs felt like jelly, but I did as I was told. On
all fours I faced the bathroom door. Eric moved behind
me, pressed his cock against my slick, open butthole,
and rammed his meat into me in one fluid motion. He
went so deep so quickly that for a moment I felt that
the tip would come out my throat. "OHHHH, yes!!! Thank
you, sir," I gasped.
"You made a mistake before, boy. You came without
permission."
"I’m sorry, sir. It felt so good I couldn’t control
myself."
"That’s no excuse," he said, as he resumed his in-and-
out action. My cock somehow stiffened again. "If you
want to be my bottom, you better learn to follow
orders. I’ll have to punish you."
With that he began to spank me, and plenty hard. "Thank
you, sir," I cried after each blow. The room echoed
with the echoes of his slaps on my ass cheeks.
My wife emerged from the bathroom fully clothed. Our
eyes met, and I saw again on her face utter contempt
and profound revulsion. And it was an incredible turn-
on! Her face reddened as Eric spanked me and fucked me
and I called out my gratitude and obvious ecstasy. "Oh,
thank you, sir! I need a man like you to teach me how
to be a good bottom." Then, with a deliberate lisp in
my voice, I added, "You’re so strong, so manly."
And that sent my wife over the deep end. "WE’RE
FINISHED, GIRLIE-MAN!" she shrieked. "I HOPE YOU ENJOY
YOUR NEW ‘LOVER.’ NO WOMAN WOULD EVER WANT TO TOUCH YOU
AFTER SHE SAW THIS. IT’S SICK, IT’S REVOLTING." With
that, she opened the door into the hall and stormed
out, the door slamming loudly behind her.
***
Eric leaned forward and pulled two pillows under my
dick. With his massive torso on my back, my arms
collapsed. I turned my head to the side. He began to
kiss me again over my shoulder, and I twisted to meet
his tongue. His arms went under me and his thrusts
quickened. He broke our kiss and gasped, "Here it
comes, boy. Take my load! Take it like a man!"
"Yes, sir. I want it, sir. I want your load in my ass!"
There was one final moment of hesitation, followed by
the deepest lunge yet. "AH! AH! AHHHH!" Eric roared in
my ear, as hard, rapid thrusts followed. I was thrilled
– I had fulfilled my deepest craving, to please my
manlover. And suddenly that triggered my second orgasm,
very different from the first but just as pleasurable.
Eric lay atop me, his enormous bulk pinning me. We
continued to kiss over my shoulder, softer, more
tenderly.
My life had been changed forever, as we both knew. My
straight life was over. From this point forward I would
live my true identity, as a man who loved men.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 41