A gay story: Sucker for a Shredder
I was lucky to attend my company’s annual convention in Vail, Colorado this year, as my family was already planning a ski trip there. The convention schedule allowed us to attend meetings until lunch and then explore the town, ski, or network with fellow employees in the afternoon. I took the chance to network seriously, but the new contacts I made will not be beneficial to my business nor will they be added to my client list. Unfortunately, the people I networked with throughout the week taught me a different skill set: one that involved performing like a sexually deviant male.
I’m not ashamed to say that I was happily married and heterosexual before this transformative week. I do admit that my curiosity has recently been piqued by gay porn, and I have found myself more attracted to it than usual. I keep my sexual desires private, including my dreams, where I engage in homosexual activities with a variety of men, including those I know and strangers. These dreams leave me infatuated with their penises and performing acts that I wish my wife would perform on me. Each dream results in a wet and sticky pajama party afterward. Luckily, I have prevented my wife from finding out by doing several laundry sessions each week to hide my crusty, cum-covered pajamas.
I just shrugged this unusual behavior off as one more tell-tale sign of my oncoming middle age. I’m 38, been married 15 years, have three kids, and am generally a conservative Republican type. But these wild wet dreams were very soon to become more than a figment of my imagination.
The second day of the convention, several of my co-workers decided to hit the slopes and do some skiing. All three were excellent skiers, having grown up in Colorado and I was soon left behind to slowly traverse the beginner and intermediate terrain as they went to explore the expert bowls on the backside of the resort. We were to meet back at the hotel for drinks before dinner. It being mid-week the area was not very crowded and I rode several lifts by myself, enjoying the beautiful scenery and the increasing snowfall. As I loaded onto an empty gondola for a ride back up to mid-mountain, a 20-something snowboarder came to a screeching stop, unbuckled his board, and jumped onto my gondola as the doors slid shut.
“Sorry, dude,” he said as he settled in across from me for the 18 minute ride up the hill.
“No problem,” I replied, “the gondola is built for 8, I think there’s plenty of room for the two of us.”
As we crested the first cliff, putting the base area out of sight, my companion started to fidget in his seat. “Damn, bro, I got to piss like a racehorse. Those couple beers at lunch just hit me.”
I didn’t know what to say so I just chuckled, until the boarder dude stood up and started to unzip his baggy pants.
“I can’t hold it in man. We’re over these cliffs and out of site of the ski runs. Do you mind if I lower this window and take a leak?”
What could I say? When a guy needs to pee, he needs to pee. “Be my guest,” I said.
The window was about four feet off the floor of the gondola, so the guy put one foot on each bench seat, straddling the floor and pulled out his dick, aiming a long, steady stream of urine out the small window.
“Don’t eat yellow snow,” he giggled as he continued to aim a river of warm pee at the snow covered terrain beneath the gondola.
I tried not to look, but from the minute he unzipped, I noticed he had a very impressive member, significantly larger than my penis and rivaling the thick, meaty dick of a pornstar. He was uncut and his flaccid tool was easily 6 inches long with big veins and a thick hairy mop of blonde pubic hair to match the shaggy mane hanging down below his wool snow cap.
My midnight dreams came back to me and I immediately wondered how big his cock would get when he was hard. I felt my ski pants tighten in my crotch as my dick stirred to attention with these nasty thoughts.
He shook his cock several times to get the last few drops of pee and I think his dick actually grew a couple of inches as he jumped off the seats and turned back toward where I was sitting.
In no hurry to stash his package away, he stood directly across from where I was seated, his cock at my eye level and said, “You see something you like?”
“Uh, no. What do you mean?”
“I saw the way you were eyeing my package as I took a leak,” he began. “I’ve seen that look on dude’s faces before. You some kind of fag, or something?”
“Absolutely not! I’m happily married and am definitely not gay,” I replied, embarrassed to admit that his cock was making me very horny.
“You’re married. So fucking what. I’ve had several married dudes blow me and usually they get an A for effort. You want to blow me dude?” he asked as he began to slowly stroke his ever growing member.
I couldn’t believe how forward he was acting, but to be honest, I did want to blow him. But I was frozen with fear and couldn’t bring myself to answer.
“Look partner,” he said. “We’ve got 10 minutes to the top and with a little help from my hand, you might just coax a load out of this bad boy before those gondola doors open up. So quit fucking around and get on your knees like a good little cocksucker,” he ordered as he fell back into the seat and wiggled his pants down around his ankles, exposing his big hairy nuts.
Without further hesitation, I did as instructed, dropping to my knees on the floor of the gondola between his legs and reached out to grasp his now nearly fully erect cock in my virgin hand. I’d stroked my own cock plenty of times, but holding his massive member in my grip was like the difference in holding a golf club versus a baseball bat. His cock pulsed with energy and I could barely get my hand around the base of his shaft.
“Yea fucker,” he groaned. “I knew you wanted some of this. Open your mouth and get to work, we ain’t got much time.”
The fear of reaching the top of the ride with me still on my knees between the young snowboarder’s legs overcame my fear of tasting his big rod and I open my mouth wide and engulfed his large mushroom head, running my tongue down the underside of his shaft. I’d watched plenty of blowjob pornos and thought I knew what a good blowjob looked like. Having convinced my wife on a few occasions to perform oral sex on me, I also knew what a bad blow job felt like. I attempted to take several inches down my throat and immediately began to gag.
The boarder dude laughed, “Shit, buddy, you can do better than that.” He put his hands behind my head and forced it back down on his shaft, pausing as I started to gag but not letting me back off his tool. As my throat began to accommodate his girth, he forced several more inches into my mouth. I had roughly half of his length in my throat and I still had my hand wrapped around the base of his monster.
“Now suck on it, dude. And watch those teeth,” he instructed.
I put on my best Hoover impersonation and created a nice vacuum seal on his rod, starting to bob up and down as he applied pressure to the back of my head, forcing more and more of his incredible tool down my throat.