I am a cocksucker, a bi cocksucker.


I am a cocksucker.

I discovered I am a cocksucker in my first threesome with a lovely, very hot, couple. My lust for cock confirmed.

I am a bi cocksucker.

I discovered that too, with certainty, in my first threesome. They are a lovely and very hot couple. It started online.

He described himself as bi and he has a nice cock. She and I video chatted the morning we agreed to meet. She is gorgeous but his pics…the pics on the website where we met…were almost all of him. So I knew I would like the cock I was going to suck. And she excited me. We met in person nearby for the first time after a few weeks of online chat, mainly between him and me, then her and me.

They were patient and knew it would be my first time with a couple and my first time sucking cock. We agreed to meet in a nice bar-restaurant to see if we clicked. She recognized me as soon as I walked in, and I joined them.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s begin at the beginning. This is my true story.

My experience with women is limited. I have always been very proper. Opportunities for lust have been missed, intimacy avoided, for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. It was just the way I was raised. The possibility that I would embrace “The LifeStyle” later in life would have seemed absurd then, and still does to some degree.

Women who I might have taken to bed, but did not, more than once explained my virginity to themselves, and in accusations to me, that I am “gay.” I’m not and I’m not in denial but I began to wonder if they might be right.

I fantasized about oral sex, fellatio and cunnilingus, and wondered why I had not taken a woman to bed. I needed to know why. In time, thoughts and images of women performing fellatio became fantasies of me performing oral sex, sucking cock. I needed to discover why I wanted to do that too. Only now have I realized that everybody does once they open themselves to the possibilities of their authentic selves, or at least I do. I think you do too. But not because I’m gay. Because I am a cocksucker. They are two different things.

I don’t love men or feel gay attraction but I love sucking cock. Maybe that makes me a pervert. To some perhaps, but it makes me attracted to men and women sexually, equally. Bi. And I am characteristically slow and loath to indulge sexual desire with anyone, equally.

Everyone wants to suck cock. I believe that. In time, you may discover your authentic self. All of your sexuality.

I am a cocksucker, a bi cocksucker, a very good bi cocksucker. That’s who I am. Properly raised. So even losing my virginity took a while.

At university, my not unattractive, sexually available, alcoholic landlady tried to seduce me at least three times. When I didn’t take her to bed, as I now know I should have, she said to me “It’s okay if you’re gay.” I knew that I am not and it only made sex with her more unlikely, and irritatingly, made sex with even women more unlikely.

In my early thirties I ran into her again. When she looked at me, I was instantly excited. I think she knew but the time had passed. She flirted but it was to titillate, not to seduce, seriously. Or was it? It brought back memories of that opportunity lost, and of accusation, perhaps in an odd way preparing me for what was to follow.

Days later, I was approached by an elegant gay man. Without a word said. I was horrified. Especially when I got an erection.

He was a well-dressed tailor. Dressed with that perfection that just said gay. I was buying a suit. It fit my then very trim body perfectly, though the in-seam had to be measured. He said. He was professional. Not a hint of anything untoward. But he noticed.

I froze, visibly. Uncomfortable. He noticed and looked annoyed. I relaxed. The moment had passed. Thank goodness.

Do I dress to the right or left, he asked. An amused smile when, visibly embarrassed, I said I didn’t know.

Then I began to get an erection and he noticed. And smiled. I looked down horrified and hid my embarrassment. I looked up to meet his eyes. I looked away, face flushed. But when I picked up my suit his card was in a pocket with his address and phone number in pencil on the back.

I tore up the card, but I stroked my hard cock in the middle of the night wondering if I should call. I imagined the words I would say, “Hi, this is me. May I come over…I…I….I want to suck your cock?” It didn’t happen. But I did cum.

On more than one night.

That was more than twenty years ago. Not long ago, I began to wonder about being bi. Not long ago, I began to wonder about threesomes. Not long ago I learned to swallow my own cum.

Now here we are and I am about to have my first threesome. And suck cock. It bears repeating.

We agreed to meet nearby, My first time, after a few weeks of chat online. First with him, exchanging messages, then decisively with her in video chat. I offered so she could decide. She could see me but I couldn’t see her. Just before Bayan Escort Gaziantep we met. Three hours before we met. She liked me. She was real, not a fiction invented to seduce me, and sensual, and supportive of her bisexual hubby’s desires, his expression of his authentic self.

She likes me and is openly willing to share me with him and him with me, our bisexual authentic selves, “Wow,” I thought. I am really going to go through with this.

They were patient and knew it would be my first time with a couple, and my first time sucking cock. I was late. I couldn’t believe it was about to happen but – or is it so it will happen – I planned every detail in case it should actually happen, expecting it wouldn’t. If they came back to my riverside apartment.

We had agreed to meet across the bridge – although they didn’t know that is where it was – in a nearby pub and restaurant. It was winter, so I would be wearing a hat and a long brown leather coat. I planned too long, so when the text message came, “Where are you?”, I had to hurry out of the door with no time to think. Or change my mind in the last moment.

“I am on my way to become a cocksucker, to suck a cock!” No, I won’t send that. “On my way,” I reply. My mind races, my heart races, faster than my feet. Then I am there.

My gloved hand closes on the door handle. I pause, my heart in my throat. I open the door and step in, looking about at the people in the room for signs of recognition. I know they are fit, skiers, and that she has grey-blonde hair. My eyes fall upon a couple sitting alone, seated so as to look toward the door. Her head turns and I read her lips say to her husband, “That’s him.” Then looking back at me, she smiles. Beautifully.

I am about to meet a couple for a threesome. My heart pounds in my ears. I walk to their table, taking off my gloves and opening my coat before taking off my hat. “May I join you?” I say smiling, nervously. My first words to a couple I am soon to be naked with, I thought. Or are they someone else?, my next thought. “Have you been waiting long?”

She is beautiful, the slim grey-blonde I want to be naked with, whose husband’s cock I am here to suck, I am soon to be sucking. Mid-50s handsomely beautiful, sensual, with a look of intelligent confidence, knowing who she is, comfortable in life. I like her instantly. Seduced.

He’s good-looking in a middling handsome sort of way, the two-day growth of beard look. A five and a half to six inch cock, I knew because he had told me before we met, questioning me because she does not like big cocks, they hurt her. I am six inches and a half, a mouthful. I hoped just right for her pussy. But no such words are said, not now.

“About half an hour,” he replies, her eyes on me, evaluating. Relief. The right couple, the couple I am here to meet, the couple here to have me join them in a threesome. And suck cock. “I am sorry. Thank you for waiting,” I say, smiling.

“No problem, we’re just having a drink. Would you like something?” They are who I had hoped and here to meet me for what I have hoped. All is well. So we talk as my drink comes, and she evaluates.

We hit it off immediately, and chat comfortably about all sorts of things for an hour in a lovely social way before I ask, “So, what do you think?” They look at one another, then she says, “Yes, let’s.”

I help her with her coat as we leave. Light snow, crisp air, excitement. We walk to my place – I could host then. Not a word yet about sex. On the way there, crossing the footbridge over the river, I ask them – both of them – to be sure we are all agreed on what is to happen, “I hope you don’t mind but I would like to suck your cock.”

It is wonderful. They are wonderful. She is encouraging and she takes pics, offering her perfect tits and his perfect cock. I suck my first cock and swallow his cum, cum spurting fresh from another man’s cock into my mouth, for the first time. I want to do it again, I know.

It is all a big experiment that could end at any moment, in the blink of an eye. I convince myself of that. But now I know who I am.

I am a cocksucker. A bi cocksucker. I need some encouragement but I am available and I follow through. It is so exciting. I know who I am. I am a cocksucker.

I am willing to learn.

But I’m getting ahead of myself again.

On the way there, I said, as we walked across the snow-covered bridge over the river, I asked them – him – to be sure we all are agreed on what is to happen, trembling, “I hope you don’t mind but I would like to suck your cock.”

It is one of the most exciting moments of my life. I am asking a man and his wife to let me suck his cock.

They smile.

When we got to my place, I poke the embers in the fireplace, stoke the fires and excitement. They are still hot. I take their coats while she pours drinks. I am so nervous. I take her direction in everything. I hang their coats in an upstairs closet and come out of my closet wearing only a black robe, untied at the front. What am I doing? I take a deep breath then find myself walking down the stairs to my first bi threesome.

I feel their eyes on me and the somehow sensual feel of the lacquered wood of the stairs on the soles of my feet and on my hands on the handrail as I walk downstairs to join them in my first bisexual threesome, my first time sucking cock, the pull of the barely open but untied robe, soon to be falling from my shoulders, feeling erotic, hanging over my chest and over my buttocks. It *is* erotic.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I say, echoing my first sexual words to them on the bridge, walking between them implicitly stating my willingness to be shared. She smiles as I picked up my glass from the drinks she has poured, clinking glasses in a toast to acceptance. “Would you like to go upstairs,” I ask, “to be more private?” noting the view through the glazed French doors overlooking the narrow river and the buildings in the town beyond.

“No, the overhang is enough to stop anyone from seeing in,” she says without missing a beat, clearly observant, she has already taken note of this. She adds water to her drink and I walk around the counter to the other side, saying, “I want to show you something,” while opening my computer to my profile page on another site, rather than the one where I met them. She steps to my side, close, her grey blonde hair tumbling over her face, allowing me to feel her body heat, my face flushing, as I click to my favorite pics of threesome cocksucking. She on my right, he walks around us close on my left. “Have you ever…”, she let the words hang in the air, tantalizing. We are looking at a husband and wife with his mouth full of cock.

“No,” I say, and she leans in to kiss me on the lips. “You will,” she replies. Knowingly. In a sexy voice.

We kiss a second time and I feel his hand on the small of my back, then stroking down my ass through the robe, reaching up under the robe to touch my naked flesh for the first time before gliding up and then down my naked ass to cup my balls as she and I kiss again, my mind caught between her soft lips and the hand cupping and tugging on my full, dangling, balls.

My cock stirs under the open robe. My eyes turn back to the screen, seeing nothing but feeling his clutching hand on my balls and her heat.

His face passes out of sight of my peripheral vision as he leans down unnoticed, my attention centered on my racing heart. His mouth closes around my hanging cock, and he sucks. Two, three, four heart beats of my cock being sucked, moist lips, into his mouth, for the first time sucked by another man in amazement, before she asks, “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” I reply, not knowing if I mean it, yet, or, because I want to please her, it is the right thing to say. I kiss her soft lips.

“Kiss it,” he says to her, as my barely stiff cock falls from his lips. And she does, leaning down for a quick kiss on the tip of my cock before rising to give me another quick kiss on my lips, then stepping away for a glass of water.

Astonished I take another quick swallow from my glass, finishing it, then quickly, my mind reeling, pour another that I taste,

– part of my mistake I am to discover – amazed at what is happening.

And with that, I decide to become a cocksucker, to suck his cock, in a scenario he has described in exchanges online he would like to share with her, for her to photograph and join as she wishes, as I discover my authentic self, becoming a cocksucker, sucking cock, for the first time.

She is across the room with a glass of water in her hand. He walks around behind me, leaning back on the end of the room’s island counter, next to the fire and in front of the beveled glass French doors, through which the snow can be seen drifting down, and the river and buildings across the river. And we can be seen through the glazed doors by anyone walking by if they look in the right direction.

My pulse quickens in my temples, my face flushes. It’s now.

He is dressed in a collared shirt, open at the throat, faded jeans held up over a flat mid-50ish belly with a basket-weave brown belt, no socks, and I in my open, untied black robe hanging from my shoulders, exposing my lightly haired chest, and belly and hanging, slightly stiffening but softly hanging, cock and full heavy balls, one testicle hanging lower than the other, legs to my bare feet on the wooden floor. I step in front of him, facing him in front of the glazed doors, silhouetted for all to see by the fire to my left. She is to my right, reaching for her camera phone.

I glance to the grey-blonde sensual beauty, camera in hand. She steps closer.

I lean in to kiss her on her soft, welcoming lips, whispering, “Tell me when you think I have earned the right to be called a cocksucker.” I can barely say it. She smiles, “I will.”

He is unbuttoning his shirt. It is time for the scenario he has written of. I let the black robe fall from my shoulders, down around my feet in a heap. I stand naked before them, him. I am about to suck cock, for the first time.

I lower myself to my knees in front of him. I am about to suck cock. The words repeating themselves, pounding drum-like, in my mind.

I reach up and unbutton the last two buttons of his shirt, my eyes on his basket-weave belt that my trembling fingers begin to undo. Pulling back the strap, I unbutton the top button of his pants, and taking hold of the clasp, unzip him. I open his pants as his shirt is pulled away and off. The bulge of his still soft cock and balls beneath the cloth taunt me. On my knees in front of him. I am about to suck cock.

I lean in, and lick the cloth covering his cock, I pull on it with my lips. It tastes of cloth and maybe a hint of precum but I’m not sure. I see her out of the corner of my eyes. I am naked, on my knees before her husband. I am about to suck cock, her husband’s cock, her cock, I am about to become a cocksucker.

I reach for the band of his briefs with my teeth, pulling it down and smelling his warm flesh, feeling his heat, then with both hands I pull them down to join his pants at his ankles. He steps out of them. I sit back on my heels staring directly at the cock I am about to suck.

My mouth is open. I am breathing through my mouth, soon to have a cock in my mouth. This cock, hanging there, his balls tight.

I haven’t done it yet, really. Still time to go back, sort of. I am going to do it.

I raise myself back to my knees from my heels, making one of the most terrifying choices of my life, I lean in, opening my mouth to take the head of his cock and then his shaft. Take his cock into my mouth. His still dangling cock stiffening ever so slightly, the tip of my tongue is touching cock, tasting cock, feeling cock, feeling the flesh of a stiffening cock head against my eager tongue, and for the first time, feeling a cock gliding over my tongue and into my mouth. For me to suck. I close my lips around his shaft, stopping, hesitating for a moment to take in the feeling of a cock in my mouth. My mouth is full of cock, a cock in my mouth. I feel and taste, I suck on the cock in my mouth. “I am sucking cock,” my mind screams.

My lips, sucking gently, pull back up the shaft and over the now firm ridge of the hardening cock in my mouth onto the cock head, flicking the tip to taste precum from his cock, deliciously viscous and warm, the taste of precum from another man’s cock in my mouth. My lips purse as they slip back over his cockhead, fuller now, over his ridge and down his still stiffening shaft, possibly two inches, to hold his cock in my mouth.

I am sucking gently as I run my tongue over the cock head in my mouth, teasing his cock before taking him deeper into my mouth, feeling his cock fill my mouth, and suck his cock gently as I pull back up his cock shaft and his cock pulls from my lips and out of my mouth. I am sucking a cock for the first time.

The taste of cock, the feel of cock in my mouth, the knowledge that I am sucking cock, is intoxicating.

I am a cocksucker.

His wife is watching. It turns me on. I am a cocksucker.

I am excited, and horrified. I sit back on my heels looking at the cock that has just fallen from my lips. Cocksucker!

I return to my knees.

A satisfied look on my face, her pics would later show, my right hand reaches up to cup his balls in my palm. I tug on them. My left reaches up to wrap around his cock, which has just been in my mouth, hardening but again soft in my hand. The feel. I feel another man’s cock in my hand, my fingers wrapped around his warm shaft, now hardening ever so slightly, not fully hard; and as I tug on his balls, I stroke his cock. I want this.

His cock grows as I stroke his shaft, my fingers wrapped around it, and tug on his balls, the cock and balls of the man whose cock is seducing me, whose cock I want to suck. I am about to suck into my mouth again. It is hardening. Click, click. The camera.

My balls hang heavily but, I don’t understand, my cock hangs full but not hard. I am not erect. I wonder and worry about why. His cock fills and stiffens. I release it.

His cock bobs in front of my face, a drip of precum forming. I quickly lick it up, my tongue darting out of my mouth. Clear and viscous. His cock is pulsing, up and down and harder with each beat of his heart. More precum is forming, collecting, beginning to form a strand in front of my face. Click. I catch it with my tongue, joining cock and tongue with a strand of delicious precum. Click. It is a delicious moment.

I want to take his cock back in my mouth.

His cock is fully erect now, inches from my face, the glass in which scotch had been poured in his hand, hanging at his side, his back arching toward me. Precum collects and oozes from the open cock slit, running from his cock head and down his shaft. My tongue extends as I lean in for my tongue to make contact with the firm cock head, tasting his precum. Then leaning further in to lick his leaking cock from just above his balls up its length to taste the precum running from the tip. Click.

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