I finally figured out how to get some

Been bored and horny. Marriage didn't work out. I've always dreamed of being with a strong dominant man. So, what the fuck. Right?

I found a pink Polo my wife bought me. I remember her comment. "You can probably pull off wearing pink!" I still wonder what she meant.

I pulled on a pair of lace panties and some white silk golf shorts. Tommy Bahamas'. No cargo shorts or outdoorsy tonight. These summer shorts have nice pleats in the front. I found a pearl white leather belt to complete the look. Very stylish!

Simple leather flipflops and off I went. I wondered what I was thinking as I drove downtown. But my desire to be with someone, even for a few hours, or minutes, overshadowed any reason. I was nervous and excited. The parking lot is nearly full. Here we go!

I'm sitting at the bar sipping some Pino. White wine is a real give away, isn't it? I wanted to look gay. I don't know if it is working, but I am trying. 

A young guy stops by. He is about my age, mid 30's. He is looking pretty gay himself. "Who are you waiting for, sweetie?" I look him up and down for just a second. "I'm just waiting. I'll wait for a while longer, if you don't mind."

The bartender notices me ignoring him. He gives me another glass of wine. I look up, surprised because my glass is still half full. He glances to the other end of the bar, then leaves me. This guy at the bar is staring at me. He lifts his glass like a toast, and smiles. He is big in the chair. Looks to be tall and husky. Fat I suppose you could say. I am frozen for a moment. What do I do?

My hand lifts the glass of wine, toasting back to him. My shaking lips mouth "thank you." Before my glass sets on the bar again, he is next to me. "Who are you waiting for, fag boy?"

He is in jeans and dark gray T-shirt. His belly is rolling over his belt a little. He looks like he just got off work at the lumber yard. 

Oh gees! He is a little rude. But I like it. "I guess I'm waiting for you, big man."

He puts a hand on my bare skin just above my knee. In a stern voice he says, "My truck is in the back. let's go. Let's go now!"

His hand moves from my leg to my wrist. I am whisked through the dark bar, past the bathrooms and out the back door. When I try to speak, he pulls my arm harder dragging me faster into the parking lot. I don't think he wants any more conversation.

The door of his large truck opens and in we go. He is sitting back pulling, me onto his lap. My mouth is pushed open by his big, rough, warm wet tongue. One hand grabs my chest like he is feeling up a drunk prom date. The other is on my ass squeezing hard. He gives me a good hard groping before he demands me down on him.

"It's time to be the cock faggot you are, you bitch. And you better be good."

I think I might need to unzip his jeans, but I am a moment behind. All I feel is the force of his hand on the back of my head pushing me down, and the taste of his sweaty cock filling my newly gay little mouth.

I suck as hard as I can. His cock is pretty big, so I grab the base of it and squeeze while I bob up and down. He never has shaved his crotch. He is hairy and sweaty. He probably hasn't showered for a day or two. He has a grip on my head by my hair. It hurts when he pushes and pulls it. 

I am really trying hard to be a good sucker. I slowly push my hand away allowing his cock to slip a little bit into my throat. I dive down again. It goes in a little deeper. I feel his hand squeezing my head. He doesn't want me coming up. I open wide and let it slide in all the way. It must be 3 or 4 inches into my throat. or at least it feels that way. I gasp for air. He lets me up for a moment. 

"Fuck! I'm trying!" He looks down at me. My face is wet and flushed from gasping for air. "Just don't stop, and we will be fine you little whore."

He pulls my shirt up over my head. My shorts are shoved down past my ass. I am nearly naked in a strange man's pick up, bobbing up and down on his man cock. Is this my dream come true?

As he pushes my face into his crotch again, he warns me, "Don't fucking stop!"

The tip of his shaft touches the back of my throat again. And again. I am trying to suck and allow it inside, it isn't easy. A strong, wandering hand moves down my back and over my ass. He pushes my cheeks apart and in goes a slippery finger. I gasp and try to move away. "Don't fucking move, bitch!"

I try to focus on the task in my mouth. But the finger poking me is a lot, too. I do my best to suck well. I can't help but be distracted by him shoving his finger in hard and pulling my ass up toward him. But the hand on my head keeps me in order, and sucking. 

Finally, there is some sort of rhythm. In and out. Up and down. Mouth and throat. Ass and finger banging. Fuck!

"There you go, you little cunt!" A blast! A load of all loads. My mouth is creamed inside and out. I am choking and blowing snot and cum everywhere. I'm trying to get back but he won't let me. His grip on my head and my ass are clamped firmly. He thrusts and blows a second time. "Suck it all you cunt!"

If I think getting throat fucked, called names and fingered is bad, this is worse. I take a rare breath and swallow. My mouth gathers more from all around and I swallow again. "Good faggot. Good girl."

Girl? I still think about that comment. I have tried on my x wife's panties. I was even wearing some that night. Maybe that's the deal? I don't know. All I do know is for at least one night, with one guy, the pink shirt paid off!

Billy