The Tallest Sub

I had been straight my whole life, married for a good portion of it, and then divorced for six months. Being six-foot-five, and with my ex-wife barely over five feet tall, like most women, she expected me to take charge and toss her around. I never questioned it. After the dust cleared, and I had moved into a new apartment, my expenses skyrocketed, and I started working evenings and overnights because the hourly wage was a bit higher. I was sleeping most of the day and fell into a bit of a rut. No dates, no sunlight, no action-- just the nightly grind.

The nice thing about working late shifts was that I got my errands and chores done in half the time. I started finding 24-hour pharmacies, grocery stores, and a gym catering to us night owls. It was a lot easier for me to work out at two in the morning, no one to distract me or stare, or try to size up next to the tall guy. The place was always dead and I could work out in peace.

One night, I wrapped up and hit the shower to clean up. I lathered up and just killed some time, relaxing with the hot water running down my back. While I was in there, a White guy much shorter than me, but well built, came in and started to shower.

Despite seeing myself as straight, I have always been a cock gazer. I'm a grower, not a show-er. I look at dudes that carry around a big, soft dick with intense jealousy.

And this guy, fully soft, was at least the same size I was erect. I locked my eyes on it immediately as he walked by. He kinda smirked at me and gave me a head nod.

I kept trying to distract myself, but that dick was in my head. When he started soaping up, I did everything I could to look away. He was fully shaved, so I had a great view. It flopped around as he scrubbed his balls and shaft, water dripping off the bulbous head. I didn't even notice that my dick was getting hard.

"Something you need, buddy?" I heard him say.

I'd been caught. I started stammering, but I couldn't get anything out, just incoherent babbling. He took a couple steps over to me, and my mouth hung open, watching it swing from side to side.

"You can't seem to take your eyes off it."

"I, uh, I'm not sure, um, so--"

"Okay, don't worry," he said, cutting me off. "I know what you need, get down on your knees." His voice was deep and forceful, and I found myself slowly lowering to kneel in front of him.

I could feel the tile on my knees, as I was getting an up-close look at his cock. My mouth was watering, my heart was racing, I couldn't even have told you my name at that moment. Everything had left my brain, replaced by an utter need for cock. It was like his dick was magnetic, I felt myself leaning forward without even thinking about it. I reached out and held it in my hand, and my God, it felt even bigger than it looked.

I could feel it getting hard as I realized I was stroking it a little.

"Open your mouth," he said, and I did as I was told.

He didn't move an inch, just waited patiently for me. I slowly leaned in and licked the tip of his dick, and then slowly started to take as much of him as would fit into my mouth. My cock had become solid stone between my legs, but my hands were holding his base and I was completely focused on blowing him.

"Good boy. You're a natural cocksucker," he said.

I felt a rush of pride and shame at the same time, and noticed my dick twitch. I took him a little deeper with each pass. I felt his hands run through my hair and then felt his fingers curl, gripping the back of my head. He started to move his hips forward, and pull my head down further with each thrust. I found myself focusing on getting it as deep as I could, one hand holding this trunk of a cock, while the other massaged his shaved balls. He didn't even tell me to, I just found myself wanting to really please him.

"Nobody has ever treated you like a bitch before, have they?" he asked.

I tried to shake my head no, but couldn't with his hand gripping my hair.

"I didn't think so. You can keep pretending to be straight, but you and I will both know deep down inside, you crave big, hard cocks." He was picking up the pace fucking my mouth, and I could feel his cock starting to shudder.

"Keep stroking and look me in the eyes," he commanded.

I did as I was told. I felt so dirty, kneeling on a gym shower floor, jerking the cock of a man I had just met. I was locked onto his eyes after he pulled out of my throat. I didn't even realize what was happening until his face started to change and the first rope of cum landed across my cheek. His cock was twitching in my hand, as shot after shot landed in my mouth, on my chin, and on my chest. I swallowed what I could, but more was on my face.

"Now, you look like a proper cocksucker," he said.

He let go of my hair and stepped back under the water to clean up. I stayed motionless, cum all over my face, feeling used and slutty, and knowing I had loved every second of it. I didn't want more, I needed it.

"Do you want to touch yourself?" he said, looking down at me.

I nodded sheepishly, keeping my eyes down.

"Go ahead, but tell me what you're thinking about while you do it."

I reached down and started to stroke my rock-hard dick. I struggled to say anything, my mind was racing too fast for words.

"Tell me," I heard again, an edge in his voice.

"Your cock. Your cock in my mouth, throbbing and filling me up. Your beautiful dick slamming into my throat. How good it felt to make you cum," I heard myself say, the words pouring out of me, beyond my control.

I was furiously stroking then, and I could feel my balls tightening.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want you to use me, I want to be your bitch, I want to be your slut," I said, feeling my orgasm rising.

"I want you to own me," I said, just as I started cumming on the tile floor, pulse after pulse ripping through my body, harder than ever before. I could feel him standing over me, watching me as I finished, an amused look on his face.

He motioned for me to get up and stand under the water. He grabbed my cock and held it in a firm grip.

"Wash up and get clean," he said, with a firm slap on my ass, as he walked past into the changing area.

I rinsed off and cleaned up, hoping to catch up before he left, but he was gone. I gathered my clothes and dressed before hurrying out, more than a little disappointed this might have been a one-time thing.

The guy who checked passes at the front desk, waved me over and told me another patron had found something, and if I needed it, he had left his number for me to call.

I put his number in my phone, and wrote and deleted a few texts before settling on, "I need it," and hitting send.