I was drunk

A few years ago, while still married to my ex, we had an awful fight. Towards the end, he loathed me, we couldn’t be in the same room. The verbal abuse became a constant in my life and I began to believe I was the the “shit under his shoe”. He stormed out of our house in a tirade and I found myself feeling lonely, empty, and just all-around awful. He’d called me a “cocksucking faggot” so many times that night I felt like I needed to prove him right.

I decided I needed to go out and get a drink. I pulled on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a tight Nasty Pig tank top, and off I went to one of the gay bars. I needed to get loaded and wanted to forget about my ex, and that fight, and everything else. One rum and coke down and the second on the way, in walks John. John is a man of 6’, I’d say in his mid 50’s, short cropped salt and pepper hair, clean shaven, and ice blue eyes. He always wore tight fitting t-shirts to show off his well-toned body. He looked extremely fit. He’d flirted with me many times throughout the years, and once I’d married my ex, he laid off and we’d just smile at one another from afar.

Seeing I was alone, John slapped my back and sat right next to me. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked. I didn’t say too much, “nothing much”. “Where’s your husband tonight? He know you’re out alone?” “I don’t know. I don’t care”, I said. “Everything ok?” John asked. “No, not really. I think we’re over John”. He gave me a hug, a long extended hug, and I began to sob.
“you know I always thought he was an asshole. The way he spoke to you, spoke about you. It wasn’t right.”

I listened to what John just said, but at the time I believed everything my ex said about me. I was exactly the pathetic faggot he said I was. Anyway, John and I sat and talked and drank. And with each drink, we became more flirtatious. I couldn’t keep my hands off his hard body, and I leaned over and began to kiss John on the lips. He didn’t pull away. I started to grope his cock over his jeans, and i liked what I felt. John’s hands reached under the waistband of my briefs and his warm hand felt nice on my ass.

It was now after midnight and I was feeling no pain. John asked me if I wanted to “see his place”, and I said, “hell yeah”. Turns out his place was just down the street.  Neither John nor I were capable of walking a straight line, so it was a good thing we didn’t have far to go. We went up the elevator to his floor and after he fiddled with the key in his door, he pulled me inside and went straight to his bedroom.

Standing nearby his bed I pulled off his shirt and finally got to see his massive chest, something I’d wanted to see for years. I wasn’t disappointed. Heaving pecs covered in coarse black fur, accentuated by nickel sized pink nipples, they were both hard and the tips of his nipples stood straight out, inviting me to lick and suckle them.

My hands unzipped John’s jeans and I pushed them down to the floor, pulled down his boxers and wrapped my hand around his 9” of fat Italian uncut sausage. It was thick and meaty. I was on a mission to show John just exactly why my ex calls me a cocksucking faggot. Moaning over his cock, feeling it stiffen and grow in my throat. I was on fire with lust. Yes, I’m sure it was alcohol-induced, but I needed to suck John’s cock.

John held my head down on his cock while walking over to the bed while I crawled on my knees. He laid down with his legs still planted on the floor, and his cock never left my mouth. He was a hairy man, his balls were covered in a thick layer of dark hair, his pubic hair was natural and never trimmed. It was like a hairy forrest down there. But there was so much cock to gobble, and I was in an accelerated state of horniness, I didn’t care.

I got John’s cock so wet, I rose up and mounted him. My hole was so tight, his cock so wide and long, it wasn’t working. “In the drawer”, John pointed to his nightstand and I pulled out a bottle of Astroglide. I poured some on his cock, and that did the trick. I sunk down on his thick meat, and as his cock entered me, it was if nothing else mattered. The thoughts of the evening disappeared. John’s cock was like a magic stick that had special powers.

I bent down to kiss him. His Italian 5 o’clock shadow scraped against my face, and his masculinity intoxicated me. There was no doubt we were both drunk and the fucking was meant to be a lustful release. I began to ride him hard, bouncing my ass up and down on his entire length. John grabbed my ass and said, “oh fuck, Rich, I’ve wanted to have your hole for years”, and he fucked up inside me.

Then he flipped me over onto my stomach, and pounded me into the mattress. His strong hands pressed down on my shoulders and I felt his cock creep deeper into my crack. “Oh fuck, Rich, your ass feels so good”, John cried as he thrusted with such force, his the head of his cock was punching up into my prostate, causing me to whimper uncontrollably.

John pulled out and I turned around on my back and held up my ankles,”fuck my ass, give me your dick, John. Fuck me” John pushed his  cock inside me and my eyes rolled up in the back of my head. With my ankles now over his shoulders, I began to jack off, watching John’s face as he ravaged my poor fuck hole. “I’m gonna cum!” I shouted and shots of hot cum fired all over my chest, and my stomach.

John scooped up my cum and smudged it all over his cock, and with an added layer of fresh lube, John vigorously fucked me, until he came deep inside my ass. The entire encounter took no more than 30 minutes. It was fucking amazing.

I managed to get myself together and walk back home. When I got home, my ex was there, drunk. “Where the fuck were you, faggot? “Out”. “I know you hooked up with that old guy from the bar. Steve (the bartender), told me.” He got up from the sofa and pushed me against the wall and spit in my face. “I’m going to bed”.

I slept on the sofa. The next morning, he woke me up and fucked me silly. He had such a hold on me that I let him. It would be just a few more days before he moved out. Our relationship was always super complicated, and I’m glad he’s now living out of state.