PART 3. THE FIRST TIME I WAS SERVICED.
A follower ask me to describe the first time I was serviced. After giving it some thought, really there were 3first times. I got my dick sucked by a faggot in college. He worshiped me over a couple of days during Spring Break. In my late 20s, I played the dominant role in a cuckhold relationship, being thoroughly worshiped by an older mwm, under his wife’s instriction. But it wasn’t until I entered my 40s that I learned how fagsworshipstraights in a way perfectly described by @fagsworshipstraights.
When I was around 39 I was way out of shape. Pushing about 195 pounds. Exhausted, raising two kids, struggling to build my business. Life, mortgage, coaching Sports, etc. Doing all the things good Dads do. And neglecting myself in the process. I hired a personal trainer who, for 4 months, whip me into the best shape of my life. I’ve never had a problem losing weight or gaining muscle. Lucky that way. I was in great shape when I was in my 20s, but a man does not gain as full strength really until his 40s, when you reach the totality of male strength; mind and body combined. If you’re younger, you’ll see what I mean someday. If you’re in your forties or older, you understand.
I was 40, 5’9" 175lbs, full male pelt of dark brown hair across my chest and abs, covering my muscular thick legs. Furry thick forearms. Thick man bush. Confident. Strong.
I remember I hurt my back, so my trainer referred me to his friend, a massage therapist. I love getting massage, but avoided them because I always get a boner throughout the entire massage. It’s how I’m wired. A hand floats over one of my many erogenous zones, and BAM, I get hard. That’s all it takes. But I needed a massage. I showed up at Kevin’s place for the massage. Kevin was in his early 50s, solidly built, masculine gay man. I was married 10 years and had no inyension of fucking around.
Swimmers are not modest. And I’m not a modest man. I have no Hang-Ups about being touched. Kevin was a pro but i could tell he was testing me. While working on my back, he would slowly move his hands down over my back lower back ass-crack, cupping my ass cheeks and work his way back up. He would let his hands glance over my hard dick when he worked my thigh; I could feel him grazing the hair on my balls. Massaging my inner thighs required him to adjust my cock. Finger passing tightly over my hairy ass crack. Me feeling my fur of my hairy ass brushed. I’d shutter, he’d continue.
When it was time for me to turn over. Again. No modesty. And, I’m pretty fucking hung. A beautiful sight for any gay man. “Nice dick.”
He put a cloth over my eyes, followed by w weight, that felt like a bean bag to seal off my vision from light. Then he proceeded. And it was pretty amazing. I love laying on my back and getting my chest and legs massaged. I enjoy it more then laying on my stomach. From my toes and my feet, up my muscular calves and thick thighs. Stretching, having to adjust my testicles. Having my arms stretched and pulled. Biceps and triceps massaged and worshiped. The muscles around the armpits making me quiver. My chest is electric, every soft hair adds to the massage. When he touches my nipples, I quiver. And the best part is always my abs. And I had great defined abs back then. I loved it, feeling fingers rub over the creases. The ABS include the muscle around the dick. Making me sway.
I was so fucking turned on, he knew it, I knew it. I was probably leaking. Which I’m sure he loved. Having a hairy naked married man, hard, hung on his table. But this is what turned me. He asked me to trust him. He said he had something for me. It wasn’t a drug; it wasnt pot. It was just something that would make me feel great for an instant. Not illegal. As a man, I’m fearless. I’m not afraid to try new things, so iI consented
I inhaled from the cloth he put over my mouth and nose. He left it there and I inhaled again a little deeper. I inhaled the Vapor of poppers for the first time. He removed the cloth, and told me to breathe. My eyes still blindfolded. Seconds pasted. My body was rushed with what felt like heat. Stillness, I felt his hands rub lightly over my chest hairs, the sensation was so intense, down the happy trail to my 8 by 6 in., and then I felt the warmth of his mouth slowly engulf it all.
The blowjob was spectacular. The kind of blowjob only a man can deliver to a man. I’m thick, so deepthroating I’ve learned is less pleasurable for a man like me. Teeth somehow always get in the way. For me, the up-and-down motion of the throat followed by hand. Repeating. I could do that for hours. And I was his. 20 minutes 30 minutes passed.
“ I am The Bull Milker…” he whispered in my ear as he fed me more poppers. Stroking, licking, eating, massaging the male bull on his table. The first time in my life that I never heard the term “bull” used to describe an adult male human. And it was such a turn-on because at that moment in time, on poppers for the first time. I felt like an animal. My body responding to pleasurable stimulus that I hadn’t had and could not imagine. It was all about me. Every inch of me. Oiled and hard. Sweating and heaving pleasure.
I came like a firehose. Squirt after squirt of man cream caught in his mouth and throat.
Drained and exhausted. I justified in my panicking head what just happened. I wasn’t really cheating because there’s no emotion involved. Women require emotion. No, I just laid there and was pleasured by a man. It was just sex. He pleasured me, I did not pleasure him.
I returned to Kevin a number of times, he even stopped charging me for his time. I was a toy, again. He introduced me to bondage massage. And he milked my cock, load after load. I learned all about the term “edging” and “milking. Painful milking. And I loved it. Fuck yea.
Eventually, he climbed up on the massage table and I fucked him. He became for me a couple of holes and a man who would do anything to please me every week. He didn’t require anything, didn’t even cum. Didn’t even charge me for the massage.
This continued for 6-7 months, him becoming more subservient. He introduced me to one of his friends to use when he was not available. And that was it, the beginning of my use of faggots.
Bromosexuals, Gay Makers, are terms in our venacular to define this new type of relatoonship between typically “straight” men and fags. But I think fagsworshipstraights is a term that defines the Kink perfectly.
You give a Male Bull an inch and I"ll fucking take a mile. And I’ve been running this course for almost 8 years. Devouring faggots. The Bull Milker opened the door, and this Natural-Male-Bull crashed right through it.
Just like this. Every fucking time. Just like this.
Read this! A spectacular new entry from one of my favorite true Alphas on Tumblr, @natural-hung-bull!
Alphas, listen to his voice. This is how a Man rules the world!