Lonely Cock Sucker

I hurried to my jacket, grabbed the phone and scurried to the bathroom.

I had five messages from Grindr.

All five from him:

I expect a sissy like you to be in pantyhose for whenever I might summon you.

You will always address me as sir.

I will address you as Daddy cock sucker.

I plan to come all over your face tonight.

Are you in pantyhose now? You better be. Send me a picture of your feet or cock in pantyhose in the next ten minutes or you'll never get my big cock in your cock sucking mouth.

Fuck.

That last one was sent just two minutes ago.

I had eight minutes to obey.

I urgently felt the need to obey.

I had some pantyhose hidden in my office.

I left the bathroom, rushed to my office downstairs, which luckily didn't require me to go past the dining room where my family was, pulled out a pair of tan pantyhose and tugged them on.

Another message:

5 minutes.

Trying to go faster made it worse and took longer, but then I had them on.

I took a half dozen selfies of my cock... somehow I just knew that was what he'd want to see. In the pics it was semi-hard.

Another message:

3 minutes.

This one included a picture of his own cock. Hard. Glorious. Big.

As I took another picture, my wife Karen knocked on the door, startling me, "Are you, okay, dear?"

I stammered, feeling like I'd been caught in a sexual act, "Y-y-yes."

"You sure?" she asked, sounding concerned, as I quickly got dressed. Pants, socks, shoes.

"I just got a bit of an upset stomach," I answered, which suddenly felt true, as this conversation had my stomach churning.

"Why are you in your office then?"

"I was looking for a charger for my phone?" I lied.

"Okay," she said. "Take some Pepto Bismol, it's in the medicine cabinet upstairs."

"Okay."

"Hurry up."

"I'll be right there."

Most men would see this dangerous interchange as a sign to bail.

But not a cock sucker.

A cock sucker will do everything in his power to keep his secret a secret, but he will also do whatever he can to get the promised cock in his mouth, eventually if not sooner.

Another text:

1 minute.

I chose a picture from the ten I'd taken and pressed Send.

I then quickly deleted all the other pics.

I headed back upstairs, first storing my normal underwear in my desk.

We finished dinner, while the entire time I wanted to go back on Grindr.

We had dessert.

We opened presents.

We adjourned to the living room to admire the tree, have a few drinks and play cards.

I excused myself after a few hands to go to the washroom and, of course, to check my phone, that I had left in the office.

I had four messages:

Not a bad cock for a cock sucker.

I was flattered. I knew from my online research that many cock suckers had tiny cocks, which was part of the psychology of why they became cocksuckers. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending) I had no such excuse. Mine wasn't huge, but it was above average.

I bet you want my cum for dessert, Daddy cock sucker.

God, did I ever. I would do almost anything to somehow be able to suck that big cock and swallow that load.

The Christmas present you want for Christmas Eve is wrapped in my pants.

Indeed, all I wanted for Christmas Eve was a big teen cock... and its cum.

Shit, you're very close to where I am.

My eyes went wide.

I realized I hadn't shut off the location feature.

Shit!

What a careless mistake!

I quickly rectified that oversight before answering:

I'd love cum for dessert, sir. Alas, I can't get out of the house tonight.

I checked out his dick pic one last time, feeling my mouth water.

I turned my phone onto mute, but kept Grindr open. I couldn't help it, I couldn't explain it, but each response made me giddy.

God, I needed a cock so fucking bad.

I returned to the cards and Dwight asked, "Mr. Devers, Mrs. Devers tells me you have a large record collection."

"I've told you to call me Karen," my wife scolded him playfully.

"Sorry, force of habit," he apologized.

"You like records?" I asked.

"Yeah, especially from the sixties."

"No way," I said, the late sixties were my gems.

"Yeah, early Stones, Blood Sweat and Tears, Mike Bloomfield," he listed.

"You know who Mike Bloomfield is?" I asked, stunned. He was to most people a forgotten guitar man, drugs getting him like many, way before his time.

"Yeah, his guitar on Bob Dylan's Maggie's Farm Live was epically life-changing."

My daughter added, "Dwight is the lead guitarist in a blues band."

"I didn't know that," I said.

He shrugged, "it's no big deal."

"Have you heard of Electric Flag?" I asked, that being a band that briefly revolutionized blues and rock. Although almost no one still seemed to know them, which was a shame. Their first album revolutionized rock by mixing guitars and horns.

"Yeah, but only on iTunes," he said.

"Yuck," I said, iTunes in my opinion being a serial killer of the high fidelity only possible with analog. "Let's go to my office, and I'll play you their album the way it was supposed to be heard,"

"That'll be groovy," he said, hip to the jive.

"Groovin' is indeed easy," I joked, that being one of their songs. "Anyone else want to come?"

"No, you two dinosaurs go and do some male bonding," Karen said.

"Yes, and I'll go play the new Taylor Swift album," my daughter said.

"Blasphemy," I said, hating almost all music after the Rolling Stones' Some Girls album and Led Zeppelin's II.

"Lover, lover," my twenty-one year old daughter began singing. Worse yet, my wife joined in.

"I'm outta here," I said. "Come on, Dwight."

"Yes, these Generation Z gals are killing my ears."

The women sang louder as my son said, "I'm going to check the sports highlights."

I led Dwight downstairs to my office, which was really a study, and was even larger than my bedroom. I flipped through my vinyl. I had over a thousand albums, including every American Rolling Stones pressing of their albums and all but two of the British releases.

Unlike most record collections, which would be in alphabetical order based on band, (the big controversy being did you put a bands collection in alphabetical or chronological order), I had them in order of ranking.

This is absurd, I know, but I had a typed list of my top 1000 albums of all time, I owned 987 of them, and although every year I would reorganize the list based on my current mood, new albums purchased, and so forth... Electric Flags' first real album (they did some whacked movie soundtrack to a drug movie called The Trip) was always in my top ten. Their second and final album was a major disappointment and although I had a copy, it didn't make my top 1000, as only the song Sunny salvaged it.

I put on the first track of side one, a wicked blazing cover of Killing Floor, and said, "Now this is how you listen to music."

"Agreed," he said.

"Want a drink?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Vodka and coke, right?"

"Yes, please," he agreed.

I made him a drink. Made myself a gin and tonic and felt my phone vibrate. I slyly pulled it out and checked the message:

Want that dessert right now?

I sure the fuck did, but obviously that was impossible. I quickly responded:

Would love to, but I can't leave right now.

I put the phone back in my pocket and said, as I handed Dwight the drink, "I love their ambitious use of horns."

He was typing on his phone as he agreed, "Yes, they were the precursor to the more popular bands like Blood, Sweat and Tears, and Chicago."

"You certainly know your music history," I said, impressed, as my phone vibrated again.

Since he'd had his phone out throughout our one-on-one conversation, I figured I could check mine without being rude. It said:

The dessert is warm and ready now. All you have to do is fish it out of my pants...Mr. Devers.

My eyes went wide.

I looked up at Dwight, who was smiling ever so cockily.

"I locked the door, Daddy cock sucker," Dwight said, the words coming from his mouth sounding so natural, and yet so way out of left field.

Even though the answer was obvious, I asked, "You're Bigcockforall?"

"And you're SubDaddy, aka Daddy cock sucker," he said; "Pleased ta meetcha."

"But you're dating my daughter," I said, trying to process why he would need to go on Grindr.

"Yes, but she doesn't like sucking cock," he said, exhibiting a confidence I hadn't seen in him before. "But older cock suckers like you do."

"Dwight, we can't do this."

"What? Your Christmas Eve present is right here waiting," he said, grabbing his crotch. "All you have to do is come over here and unwrap it."

Oh fuck.

I wanted his cock.

But my wife and kids were just upstairs.

"Right now, Daddy cock sucker; I've been waiting patiently to get you alone since I realised it was you."

"When did you know?" I asked, as if that mattered anymore.

"When you arrived home and your tracker informed me you were five meters away from me."

"Shit! I forgot to shut off the tracker."

"Fortuitously for us both, you did indeed. Now come unwrap your Christmas Eve present," he said. "I think you'll really like it."

"But you're still my daughter's boyfriend," I pointed out again, desperately wanting to suck his cock, but knowing it was wrong.

"And you're my brand new anytime-I-need-a-blow-job-Daddy-cock-sucker-in-law," he countered.

"But they're just upstairs," I pointed out, even though the anytime-blow-job idea was very, very appealing.

"And they'll just remain upstairs talking for hours," Dwight rebutted. "Plus, they all hate your music, which, by the way, is a crying shame. You've got great taste in music!"

"Thanks."

"Now come get your present," he ordered firmly, adding one insistent word, "Now."

"This is wrong," I said, even as I lowered myself before him.

"You're doing your daughter a favour," he said before adding, "and I'm doing one for you."

For the first time since my very first cock, my hands trembled as I unzipped his pants and pulled them down, seeing a nice hard cock entrenched in his underwear.

"Your daughter wouldn't let me fuck her before we came over," he said, "so I have a nice big load saved up for you."

"This is so wrong," I said again even though I was well past the point of no return, as I pulled his underwear down to reveal the hard cock I'd only seen in a picture.

"Like my cock?" he asked as I stared at it.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Tell me what you want to do with it," he ordered, taking complete control of the situation and turning the hierarchy of our relationship upside down.

My mind in full cock sucker mode, I answered with what he wanted to hear, but also what I wanted to do as I took it in my hand, "I want to suck this big hard cock until you come down my throat."

"Not on your face?"

"Not if I'm making my decision freely. But in this situation, a far better answer is, 'Anywhere you want to come'," I replied, just wanting his cock in my mouth, and adding, accepting my position below him, accepting we were doing this and I was under his absolute control even while my entire family was upstairs, "Sir."

"Suck it, Daddy cock sucker," he ordered.

I didn't hesitate.

I didn't worry that he was my daughter's boyfriend.

I didn't worry that my wife, my daughter and my son were in the house.

I opened my mouth and took in his cock.

Understanding time was of the essence, I began bobbing like the hungry cum slut I always became once a cock was in my mouth.

Nothing else mattered.

Just the cock.

Just the cum I needed to extract.

There was just the cock and my mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's it," he groaned.

I always loved when I heard a guy moan, to give me words of encouragement or call me names. I wanted to know I was doing a good job.

A couple minutes into my furious bobbing, he informed me, "Going forward, I'll be depositing so very many loads in your mouth, Daddy cock sucker."

Part of me loved hearing those words... finally, a regular cock. Someone who knew who I was, and at least occasionally I could talk these things over with.

On the other hand, my secret could be exposed at any moment. My daughter would be mortified. My marriage could end.

He pulled out and asked, "Do you want to be my regular cock sucker, Mr. Devers?"

I wasn't sure why he was using my formal name instead of 'Daddy cock sucker', but I replied, "Yes, I'd love to be your regular cock sucker, but we need to be careful and keep it a secret from my family."

"Agreed," he said, as he slid his cock back into my mouth and began properly face fucking me.

It had taken me quite some time to get used to being face fucked on the road to becoming a skilled cock sucker. I had gagged a lot, but eventually I learned how not to. One key is lots of saliva. This, of course, is great advice for any blow job, but it's particularly critical for a face fucking.

Once I'd gotten better at deep throating a cock, I was also better at getting face fucked.

It's also important to focus on breathing through your nose (I gave a guy head once with a cold, and let's just say it didn't go awfully well).

Anyway, Dwight slammed all eight inches of his into my mouth with no care for me, only for his own personal pleasure.

Which made my cock ache.

"Oh yeah, get ready for my load, cum slut," he warned, not even a minute into his chin ball-drumming.

I appreciated when I knew it was coming so I could prepare; I still did gag on occasion, if the cum came when I wasn't expecting it.

A few more strokes, and he grunted and deposited a massive load into my mouth.

The gooey, salty treat slid down my throat and warmed my belly, as a rush of adrenaline coursed through me like it always did when I successfully extracted a load.

"Oh fuck, take it all," he said nastily but softly, as he slowed down and spewed the last of his cum into me.

Once he was done, he pulled out and said, "Well, you're a lot better than your daughter at doing that. And far more willing, I might add."

"Thanks," I said, realizing just how weird a compliment that was.

"I mean she's a great fuck," he said, looking down at me, "but her oral leaves much to be desired."

I didn't like the idea he was fucking my daughter or that he was being so open about her being a great fuck, yet I wordlessly licked a drop of cum hanging from his cock.

"Do you take it in the ass?" he asked.

"No," I said, although after a brief pause.

"But you're curious to try," he assessed, as he pulled his pants up.

I stood up too, as Electric Flag continued to rock. "Not really," I lied.

"Oh, you do want to be a bottom boy too, I can see it in your eyes," he smirked.

"No," I tried to insist, even though a big part of me was curious how different a real cock would feel like inside my ass compared to my toys.

"Be a good Daddy cock sucker, and maybe I'll let you become my two hole fuck slut," he said, before adding, "Kim only takes it in the ass when she's either drunk or high."

"Please! No more information about my daughter," I objected, just now learning my daughter did drugs and took it in the ass.

"You sure?" he asked. "You know she also loves eating pussy?"

"Dwight, enough!" I said, not able to handle all this information about my sweet daughter. I mean of course I knew she had sex, who doesn't? But in my world I wanted to think she did it rarely, and it didn't include oral sex, being a good fuck, taking it in the ass, getting high or eating pussy.

I mean if I learned that any other woman in the world ate pussy, including my wife, I would find it incredibly hot. But not my sweet angel Kim.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll just use your mouth for now."

"Thank you," I said, and then realized it sounded like I was thanking him for using my mouth, and not because he was agreeing to stop spilling unwanted beans about my daughter.

"No worries," he said. "By the way, I can probably get you a lot of cock on campus, if you want."

"I don't do this very much," I said, not wanting him to think I was some cock-crazed guy, even though I was.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed.

"Just keep this between us," I said, trying to regain some of the hierarchy of his listening to me with respect, like he had earlier today.

"As long as you're a good cock sucker for me whenever I need to bust a nut, your sissy secret is safe with me," he said.

"Thanks," I replied ludicrously.

He walked over to me and placed his hand on my cock possessively and rubbed. "I do like seeing a sissy's cock in pantyhose."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," I groaned, even though it felt great.

"I'm not a cock sucking faggot like you, Mr. Devers," he said as he rubbed my cock. "I just like seeing my sluts in pantyhose. You've noticed I'm sure, that Kim wears them all the time now."

Ouch! Now we're both his sluts! "No, I hadn't noticed," I said, although I had. Not in a sick way, but since she had never worn them when she lived at home, it was noticeable.

"Yes, she wears them for me," he said, rubbing my cock. "Just like her Daddy Dearest does now."

"Oh," I groaned, his hand feeling really good.

"Usually thigh highs though, and no panties," he continued piling on his unwanted revelations about my sweet daughter.

"Please stop telling me these things," I moaned, close to coming.

"That way, I can just slam into her at any moment," he said, and then added, "or her roommate can dive in and munch on that shaved snatch."

"Oh fuck!" I grunted, as I came in my pantyhose.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy cock sucker," he said, moving his hand away as I trembled and spasmed.

"Thanks," I said, ashamed at coming while he spoke so disgustingly about my daughter.

Suddenly there was a bang on the door, and my daughter called through, "Why is this door locked?"

I quickly pulled up my pants and opened the door. "Sorry, we didn't want my so-called terrible music to interrupt your visit with your mother."

"Ready to go, honey?" Kim asked.

"Yeah, sure," Dwight said.

Kim gave me a hug and said, "See you tomorrow afternoon, Daddy."

"Of course, honey," I agreed.

"Yes, we'll continue our conversation tomorrow," Dwight said.

"I'm looking forward to it," I said, already imagining his big cock back in my mouth.

"I'm so happy you two are getting along," Kim said, genuinely happy.

"He's the first guy you've ever brought home I liked," I said, glancing slyly at his crotch.

"Yes, and your Dad is really one of a kind," Dwight added.

"Well, it's great to see my dad taking a liking to you."

"Indeed it is," Dwight said. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Devers."

"Merry Christmas both of you," I said, even though it was still a few hours before actual Christmas.

They headed upstairs and I followed them, the cum in my pantyhose feeling all sticky.

As they left a few minutes later, all I could think about was the Pandora's Box I had opened.

One I was pretty sure I had no intention of ever closing.

I finally had a regular cock.

I finally could easily quench my cum cravings.

I finally had someone I could (more or less) discuss the cock sucking side of my life with.

And perhaps sometime soon, I could explore my fantasy of taking a cock in the ass.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

The end