A gay story: From Botched Job to Blowjob Introductory note: The following story is based upon a series of real-life communications in connection with a potential role play scenario between another gentleman and me during a planned meetup. Our meetup never materialized. All that remains is this description of what might have occurred.
You are a 50-year old general contractor (man) responsible for a major construction project. I am a 58-year old subcontractor / supplier (man) of certain key materials. You summons me to your office to discuss your findings that certain of the materials that I had supplied to date were defective and thus did not meet the specifications set forth in our contract. In fact, you say that you have incontrovertible evidence to that effect.
As you greet me at the base of the construction trailer, we sit down there on a couple of portable chairs. You present your findings. Because the evidence is clear and incontrovertible, I have no choice but to acknowledge the errors. You say that a deviation of this type could trigger significant monetary penalties under our contract and also could bar me from bidding on future contracts for a period of not less than five years. I plead with you to give me the opportunity to make things right at my own time and expense. You say that it is getting hot outside and that we should go inside to develop a plan for resolving the issue. I accept your invitation and take your comments at face value. But I will soon come to realize that you have something much different and far more devious in mind.
We enter the trailer, which is otherwise configured as a normal business office. You sit down on a sofa. I sit across the room in a guest chair.
Your tone becomes bolder, more assertive and more dominant. And without any advance indication, you take off your pants and underwear and sit on your sofa with your cock on full display. You now start to rub your cock without any pretense of doing anything else. I am stunned by your boldness but am powerless to object as you now hold all of the leverage as the contractual issue looms large and ominous like a storm cloud over my head. In the process, though, I cannot help but to notice that you have a very large cock, one that is much larger than by own. You say you will cut me on break and allow me to cure the materials defects without penalty or future bidding restrictions but only if I comply with your directions. Partly relieved but also partly perplexed, I respond with a simple “OK thank you” without fully appreciating what I am getting myself into.
But now things take an abrupt and an unexpected turn. You then tell me to stand up and strip totally naked. I freeze for several seconds disbelieving what I just heard. You repeat your instructions. I try in vain to protest your order saying this is highly unprofessional and inappropriate. I add that I would be mortified to stand there totally naked with my small cock exposed for you to see and perhaps even belittle. I add that I am totally straight as if that would make any difference to you.
You sense my hesitation but then dangle the prospect of the contractual penalties and bidding restrictions as leverage. Exasperated, I grudgingly say “OK, I’ll do it” hoping you just want to look at me naked and jerk yourself off but do nothing more. I proceed to strip totally naked and then stand there in front of you blushing from extreme embarrassment. You say that, indeed, I have a very small cock. You tell me to give it a few strokes to see if it gets any larger. I comply. My cock does firm up a bit but simply pales in comparison to the size is of your own cock.
As if this experience could not be any more humiliating, you then explain what will transpire from that point forward. I will be sucking your cock to completion.
This all now seems surreal to me. I freeze. You tell to drop to my knees and crawl to you on the sofa. I hesitate but do as instructed, feeling totally ashamed and humiliated. I reach the sofa. You tell me to not yet touch you but to focus intently on your cock. Once again, I comply. I notice a bit of precum forming the top of your cock.
You tell me to turn around and crawl back to the other side of the room from where I had started. Crawling is by itself humiliating. Being naked in this type of situation is likewise humiliating. Put the two together and I feel an overwhelming sense of submissiveness, shame and resignation about what already has happened and what is likely to follow.
Once I reach the other side, you tell to turn me to turn around but remain on my knees. You then stand up and walk towards me. You tell me to put my hands behind my back and to not touch me until you direct me to do so. You ask me to focus on nothing but your cock as you stroke it and run it gently but firmly across my face. Although you seem otherwise freshly showered, the unmistakable musky scent of an excited cock permeates the air.
You ask me to look up at you. You say, OK “cocksucker, now is your chance to redeem yourself”. You say open my mouth. You hold the sides of my face and start penetrating my mouth with your cock. You say that I should use my hands to cup and caress your balls and stroke the base of your cock. By now, any remaining resistance on my part has altogether faded. I tell you I don’t know what I’m doing. You say, don’t worry, you’ll guide me through this.
The blowjob continues for several seemingly interminable minutes. Although I am totally mortified by what I am doing, I am surprised to find that my own cock is starting to stiffen. That was not anticipated.
But just as I had begun to think this could not get any more humiliating, you throw out the first of a couple other curveballs. You pick up a small hand-held mirror and place it close to my head off to the side. You tell me to look that direction and observe myself with a rock-hard cock in my mouth. My level of shame is now off-the-charts.
Then, you ask me to stand up. I think, OK, maybe we’re done here even though you hadn’t yet cum. But I was wrong as you had other things in mind. You said that I should jerk my cock until I cum on top of your cock and then drop back to my knees and lick it up. I try to protest saying that is simply too gross but soon acquiesce as I just want this whole dreadful experience to end as quickly as possible. It takes me maybe a minute of steady and intense jerking but I do manage to cum as directed on top of your cock. Most of the cum rests on your cock; but some does roll off your cock onto the floor. I return to my knees and somehow muster the energy and courage to scoop up my own cum from your cock. You tell me not to swallow but instead hold it in my mouth. I do as instructed. This is altogether humiliating.
You return to the sofa and sit there. You tell me to crawl back there and resume sucking your using the cum that I accumulated and am holding in my mouth as a lubricant of sorts. I am thoroughly reluctant to do this but comply anyway.
After doing this for a few minutes, you stand up and rub your cock across my face, creating a mess in the process with a combination of your precum and my own cum.
Nearing the end of our encounter, you tell me to remain on my knees and look up with you with my mouth open and tongue sticking out. You tell me you are going to jerk off onto my tongue and into my open mouth. As you do this, you say that you appreciate my services as your cocksucker. (That is not exactly the type of compliment I could have ever expected or wanted!) You then unload exactly as you as said you do. You tell me to hold the cum there for a minute and to look again myself in the mirror. That ghastly sight cemented by sense of pure unadulterated shame and humiliation. You that I should then swallow. I do as instructed.
We then get dressed and proceed to discuss otherwise mundane (by comparison) details of the contract and materials specifications as if nothing unusual had just happened. But the pit in my stomach tells me, quite clearly and unequivocally, that I had just crossed a line from which there is not return.