I want to start out by telling you that I am a very manly man. Even a little bit of a control freak. I was raised on a ranch, riding horses and working hard. Then, I played football and other sports in college and loved to drink my frat brothers under the table. I work in an industry made for men who are real men! None of those metrosexual manicures for me! I’m married and have been for years. When I go out with my buddies, it’s to hunt or fish or maybe ride our Harley’s down the coast to rough it out at a campsite. There is no one who has ever met me who has even wondered, for a moment, if I’m anything other than straight as an arrow. No one, that is, until my Mistress.
Damn. I knew when I met her that I was in trouble. She smiled at me like she already knew a secret about me and I hadn’t told her anything at all. I mean it wasn’t just one of those smiles that people describe as “knowing.” She seemed wise and intelligent and all those words that mean smart. But it wasn’t that. It was that she seemed to be able to see deep inside me. Or maybe it was that she saw right through me.
I will never forget her sitting there, sipping a glass of sparkling water, with her long sexy legs crossed, listening and nodding her head slowly. Her full soft lips were wrapped around a straw and her hair fell lazily across one side of her face. While I talked, she just sipped and gave me that smile. I told her all about how big my cock is and how I just needed someone to get me off because my needs are so much stronger than my wife’s. And then I talked about camping with the guys and whacking off alone in the tent. And how I don’t even mind if they see me, because, “Whatever,” right? They’ve seen cock before and I still got off, even when this one friend of mine was in the tent watching me. Hell, I told him he could join in if he wanted.
That was when the smile started and she asked me a question. Just one. She said, “Did you offer to help him get started?” I couldn’t believe it, all that and that was what she asked. I mean, yeah, sure, I did. But hey, he seemed kind of shy and it’s not like I’m gay or anything. He let me, too. Just stroke him off a little bit to get it going.
She really smiled then and said, “I know just what you need.” At the time, that phrase sounded sexy. Now that I know her and she has shown me that she does know what I need, whenever she says it, I get nervous. Hard. But nervous. Because apparently, what I really needed was for her to tell me to do some things I wasn’t sure I wanted to do. Well, things I didn’t know I wanted to do. Or, maybe just couldn’t admit to wanting.
It doesn’t make me gay if I’m just doing as my Mistress asks. In fact, I tell her that every time I get down on my knees and start sucking another cock while she observes. I get hard and stroke myself while I suck and make him cum. Every time, I cum too. But that doesn’t mean I’m gay, right? Right! Because I’m only doing what my Mistress wants.
The first time she brought in a man to our session and told me I was going to suck him, I wanted to say, “Hell, No!” but I didn’t. I couldn’t. She was smiling that smile at me and my cock had jumped, getting instantly harder. From the moment I had that dick in my mouth, her voice telling me to suck, I knew this was just what I wanted and needed. She told me to do it, so I’m not gay, right?
Even when she told me that the next time I went camping, I had to ask my buddy if I could suck it, I knew I was only doing it for her. She wasn’t there or anything and hey, he’s not gay and he let me, but I did do it. I sucked him until he came and then laid back and stroked while he watched. Only took me a second, too. That sucking always gets me so excited and she knows it. My Mistress knows me too well. She knows just what I need and she knows that it’s okay if I am sucking cock for her. That doesn’t make me gay. It just makes me obedient and who would mind being obedient to an incredibly sexy woman? Not me that’s for sure!