Gay – Homosexual Males
For a long time I’d been living in a daze. A dull, 9-5 working life that rarely gave me any excitement. I’d get up at the same time everyday, go to work, come home and repeat the whole cycle again the next day. Even my weekends were becoming uninspiring.
Before I ramble on too long, let me tell you a bit about myself. I am 27 years old and I work in the IT department of a large financial services company in London. I share a flat with an old friend from Uni called Steve. He works at the same company as me, but in the venture capital arm of the company (something I know very little about, even now). Steve is the same age as me and into pretty much the same stuff as me, but he is straight. As you might have guessed, I am gay. We’ve been mates for nearly 10 years now and have what could be described as a normal, healthy, gay guy/straight guy relationship. He does his thing, and I do mine. We co-exist very happily, if not uneventfully.
Looking back now, I think perhaps this comfortable, easy life is probably what led me to become what I am now. Suffice to say, Steve was really all I had that even mildly resembled that little voice we’re all supposed to have on our shoulder that’s supposed to stop you doing stupid things. Our moral compass. Without him, I was free to get myself lost in a whole new world that I know realize I’ll never get away from.
So I suppose this is an account of how I became what I am now. And what is that, I hear you demanding!? The best way to describe myself is quite simply as a Cocksucker. A Cum Slut. A Dick Worshipper. There are so many names for what I have committed my life to doing that the list could go on and on for a very long time! To put it simply, I have come to devote my life to pleasuring cocks, in all their forms, with my mouth as frequently and as well as I possibly can. This addiction to sucking cock I suppose has always been a part of me, but was never something I explored until just under a year ago. It all started at work, with a visit from a new regional sales manager who was visiting our office from Manchester.
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His name was Gary. He was 42, 6ft, broad-build, bearded and very attractive. He was (and still is) married.
We have a protocol in our office, which is very dull, but I’ll go through it very quickly to help set the scene. Any visitor we have in the building needs to go through certain security checks, even if they work for the same company and are essentially colleagues. We hold some very sensitive data on our servers here – details on big corporations and their finances – so we have to be very careful. Every person that comes into the building with their own device – laptop, phone etc – has to be screened before they can access our network. My job, as part of the IT team, is to carry out this screening process and ensure we don’t get hacked or compromise any valuable data.
Usually this is very straightforward and boring. I run a very simple program that scans the person’s’ device and detects any viruses, remote connections or anything mildly suspicious. If I notice anything untoward, I am supposed to reject the device immediately. In the five years I’ve been working here, I have never rejected a device. It’s usually all plain sailing and I am seen as an annoying hurdle slowly everybody down than a bastion of security for the company.
Gary had never visited our London office before so, apparently, was unaware of this procedure. When security asked him to hand over any electronic devices he reluctantly handed them over, asking lots of questions about who would be looking at his laptop in particular. When Jerome (our security guard) handed me his laptop he grinned and said, ‘I bet he has something dodgy on there, he got really upset about handing it over!’.
I smiled meekly and took the laptop, not thinking anything of his comments. Jerome had a tendency to exaggerate, so I didn’t expect to see anything unusual on his laptop as I began to run the scan program. With the scan running, I took a sip from my coffee and sat patiently waiting. I noticed that there was still a web browser window open, but minimized. Innocently, I clicked on it. Up popped a Gmail account, logged-in. The inbox was full of emails, most of them with attachments. The account name read ‘gloryhunter66’ at the top of the screen. I knew I shouldn’t have, that it was private information, but I couldn’t help clicking on one of the emails, which read:
Your gift arrived right on time, as you said it would. I sucked him to completion and swallowed his load as you instructed. I attach both a photo and videos of me to prove this.
I look forward to receiving my next instructions, Sir.
My heart skipped a beat and I felt myself get flushed. I also noticed my cock almost immediately begin to swell. I clicked on the attachments and sure enough there was a guy, maybe early 30s on his knees sucking a guy off. There were shots of him before, during and after the blow job and a video (that I dared not play) which must have showed the whole thing from start to finish. I froze, unsure what to do. The inbox was full of emails, all from other men, and nearly all with similar subject lines and attachments.
Several emails were entitled ‘Report’. I clicked on one at random. There was no message in the email, just photos attached to it – they were of Gary. He was in his suit, cock out, hard. Then the photos showed a guy on his knees sucking him. Half a dozen photos of this guy (a younger, slightly geeky looking guy, maybe mid-20s like me) with Gary’s cock in his mouth. The final few photos were close ups of the guy with Gary’s spunk all over his face.
What the hell, I thought! What is this? The little I knew about Gary was that he was from our Manchester office and was, allegedly, the quintessential family man. Married with kids. And yet here he was having sordid affairs with literally dozens of eager cocksuckers! Not only that, he was documenting it! I knew it was definitely him too because I had personally uploaded his new staff profile photo onto our database. What were these ‘reports’, I wondered. Did he ask his cocksuckers to document their meets and email him a ‘report’ of their session? Was that his way of keeping a journal of his hookups? Was it a diary of sorts? It seemed a risky way of doing things to me, but I couldn’t argue that it didn’t turn me on immensely.
The scan completed, finding nothing abnormal about his system. I then realized I had a choice. I could either do the polite thing and minimize the window back down and never say anything, sparing everyone the embarrassment. Or I could confront him, tell him he shouldn’t be using company property for this kind of thing and report him to senior management. I was torn. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that the whole thing really turned me on. I had been sat there with a hard-on for nearly 15 minutes, equally aroused and confused. I couldn’t get the image of Gary’s incredible body – his rugby-build, broad chest and thick cock – out of my head. In a few short seconds I realized that what I actually wanted to do was to see that cock in the flesh. I wanted to be one of these boys sending him a ‘report’. I wanted to be on my knees sucking that thick, hard dick until he shot load after load of thick creamy cum all over my face. With my sexual desire quickly taking over my thoughts, I realized what I had to do.
I hit ‘compose mail’ in the browser and wrote and email:
I want to report to you.
Meet me in the bathroom (level 4, conference room 2 side) at 1.30. I’ll be in the 3rd cubicle from the left.
I entered his own email address, gloryhunter66, into the ‘to’ field and hit send. I waited a few seconds and saw the email pop up in his inbox. My work was done! I felt my heart race and my dick get even harder still. I minimized the window, exited the scan program and closed his laptop. A mixture of panic, excitement and fear spread over me. What had I just done?!
After a few minutes (just time enough for my erection to subside enough!) I walked the laptop back over to Jerome at reception and gave him the all-clear. He looked disappointed I hadn’t found anything, but I just shrugged and shook my head, ‘Sorry mate. Nothing interesting on there’ I said, and walked back to my desk.
As I sat back down, I glanced at the clock – 11:34am. I had less than 2 hours to go until I could, maybe, be on my knees sucking my first secret married cock and, for the first time in years, I felt a real sense of purpose and excitement in my life. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of a long and exciting journey as a Cocksucker.