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The Real Reason You Like Blow Job Porn

Hunter — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 18:07:28 +0000

You think you’re being slick- that I won’t figure out that the real reason you like watching blow job porn is because you wish you were the one on your knees blowing that big, beautiful cock instead of having your cock sucked. You tell me all about how you like watching girls give guys blow jobs because you never get them and how you imagine yourself as the guy in the video getting blown. But we both know better, don’t we?

Sucking Cock: A Straight Guy’s Forbidden Fantasy!

The fact that most men would never admit this fantasy to anyone makes it a “taboo fantasy” of sorts. And anything taboo is much more enticing. Anything we are told NOT to do, we want to do. Men aren’t supposed to want to suck cock, and yet, knowing that makes you fantasize about doing it even more.

It’s a Natural Progression

The more you masturbate, the more you fantasize. Over time, the fantasies that once excited you tremendously no longer excite you so you have to move on to something a little more risque- a little more taboo. Eventually, this leads to cock sucking fantasies.

There isn’t a man on this planet that hasn’t fantasized about sucking cock at one time or another. It’s a natural, normal fantasy, even for straight guys. Just because you fantasize about it doesn’t mean you are gay, or even bisexual. Fantasizing about sucking cock does not make you gay. It just means you are a normal guy with a normal, active imagination where sexual fantasies are concerned.

Feel better now?

femme faggot cocksucking wannabe panty boy

Hunter — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 10:37:11 +0000

Whew! That’s a mouthful. femme faggot cocksucking wannabe panty boy is a regular caller of mine. At HIS request, he must identify himself as such each time he calls or I won’t talk to him. The funny thing about that is that I think he thought since it was HIS request, if he didn’t follow through with it, nothing would happen. Not so!! Let me explain…

Be Careful What You Wish For

If there is one thing I have stressed over and over to this slut, it’s that if you tell me you want something, you’d better be prepared to get it. He keeps begging me to humiliate him more and more each time he calls, and of course, I deliver.

One time he called and failed to identify himself as he’d told me he wanted to be made to do, so guess what happened? Yep, you guessed it! He called right back–identifying himself properly this time– and said, ”That was intense! I know I said I wanted that, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!”

Humiliation Addict Can’t get Enough

The first time this humiliation whore called me, we chatted about his need for humiliation and how it’s gotten worse over the years. It takes a lot more humiliation to get his rocks off now than it did,say 20 years ago.

He said that back then, if someone would have told him that he’d find himself fantasizing about being on his knees sucking cock and his wife walking in to catch him, he would have said they were crazy. Yet, here he is now, fantasizing about just that… and MORE!!

Of course, he’s never done it, doesn’t really want to in real life, but gets off on the fantasy of it because he gets a big thrill from the humiliation of it. Imagine his surprise when I told him, “No. You can’t suck a cock, even in your fantasy, because you aren’t good enough! You don’t deserve a real cock! The best you can hope for is that I’ll let you get down on your knees wrap your lips around my silicone strap-on. I’ll bet that would taste yummy!”

Much to his surprise, his pussy stick twitched at that! Yup, I said pussy stick. You see, he’s obviously not a real man with a real dick, or he wouldn’t be wearing panties and begging to suck cock!!

Until next time cockcuckers,

Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test part 5

Hunter — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 17:58:38 +0000

A few years ago, Frank decided to do a little experiment and documented his progress along the way. He dubbed this experiment: Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test. This is part 3 of Frank’s story. If you haven’t already, you will want to read part 1 of Frank’s story, part 2 of Frank’s story, part 3 of Frank’s story, and part 4 of Frank’s story.

I Was Going to Suck His Cock!

He wasn’t circumcised, not by a long shot. He wasn’t as long as Henry but he was much thicker. I whistled softly through my teeth when I saw him, a fat read cock poking straight up at me, head bobbing and already glistening with a little pre-cum that had smeared against his underwear.

Tighty whities, go figure. I leaned forward and licked the head lightly, pulling back the foreskin, sliding my tongue around; he groaned and his hands clenched at his sides, gripping the kitchen counter like it was all that was holding him in place. I pushed my hands back, dug my fingers into his ass, pushed his jeans down.

His legs were hairy his pubes were black…

His legs were hairy and his pubes were black and thick. I tried sliding my mouth down, tried sucking all of his cock into my mouth, but couldn’t manage it; my jaw ached from the thickness of him. His taste was musky, sweet; he was clean and hot and when I grabbed his cock in my hand his hips jerked like I’d zapped him with a tazer.

His Cock in My Mouth Felt Like Power

Every move of my mouth, the bit of teeth when his fat head grazed them on the way down seemed to pull a wire directly into his spine; he jerked and cried out when I sucked. It felt like power.

That’s it for today, my little cocksuckers! Check back tomorrow for part 6 of Frank’s story.

Until next time,

Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test part 4

Hunter — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 20:24:04 +0000

My Visit to Robin’s Ranch Starts to Heat Up

It was his dream, ever since he was a kid and loved playing Indian, to see the land the way the native Americans saw it; to see the untouched wilderness. When he found about about invasive species and all the stuff the settlers brought over from Europe, he decided to do something about it someday. So when he had enough money saved up from day-trading he quit and bought this place, and had begun stripping back all the non-natives and replanting with species which had once been common to the area.

He smelled like sour sweat, like hard work and pine chips

He talked with his hands, with his whole body, really enthusiastic about the whole project. The B&B was just to make a little extra cash on the side while he did the real work, making this a refuge for all the stuff the march of civilization had pushed back. He smelled like sour sweat, like hard work and pine chips. I nodded as I put my things away, and he led me on a tour of the place.

I resisted the urge to touch it, to bury my nose in it…

I followed behind him as we walked through the narrow hallways, his solid body blocking most of the light. He was the sort of guy who could easily go to fat if he wasn’t working all the time, but the muscles in his arms and shoulders, the compact way he moved told the story of a man who worked hard. His hair was a little long and needed a trim; it curled over the back of his collar. I resisted the urge to touch it, to bury my nose in it, to push him against the wall and drag his pants down right there. No fear this time, no hesitation; my cock was as hard as a hammer in my jeans. I managed to keep mostly behind him or turned away. It helped that the sky was gloomy all afternoon and evening.

I Dropped to My Knees and Unzipped His Jeans

We ate spaghetti for supper at the kitchen table. Normally guests ate in the dining room, he said, and he seemed a little shy. I didn’t mind. I watched him cook, watched him serve the food. As darkness fell he seemed less and less sure of himself, and I became more and more confident. Leaned into his space, watched him fidget. He was transparent, a plainly kind, and when he got up to put the dirty dishes in the sink he was just as plainly turned on. His pants bulged hugely. I stood up and walked over behind him, touched his shoulders – he jumped, turned. His hands were wet. I kissed him then, once on the mouth, his beard prickling up my nose before I dropped to my knees and unzipped his jeans.

That’s all for today, pets. I know you are on the edge of your seats just waiting to hear what happened next!!

Check back tomorrow for part 5 of Frank’s ongoing story, Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test.

Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test part 3

Hunter — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 22:23:49 +0000

Henry’s Cum in My Mouth Seemed Like a Dream

I could have stopped in New Hampshire, of course. But all these little New England states are so small compared to Nevada. I was through it in just a couple hours. Had lunch in a little town named Gotham, like from Batman, right before I cut through the mountains towards Vermont.

The longer I drove, the more Henry’s cum in my mouth seemed like a dream. I imagined I could still feel it in my stomach. But the weather shifted from clear to cloudy, which worried my; then back to clear; then over to cloudy again, a dark rumbling roll of blackness that had me hunched over my steering wheel defensively, studying the twisty roads and the green walls of trees with worried eyes.

My Visit to Robin’s Retreat

Then I was down into Vermont, where the mountains turned to hills and the land into dairy-farm country. It never really followed through on the promise of a downpour where I was; the heavy clouds swept past to the south. It was just a steady drizzle that caught me as I pulled into the B&B. My first and last self-picked stop, a place called Robin’s Retreat, down a gravel track past massive chestnut trees.

The drive stopped abruptly as the trees ended, a wooden gate blocking access to a large fenced-in meadow, with the old farmhouse sitting snugly on the left overlooking the scene. It was full of wildflowers, and even in the rain it was lovely.

He Came Out When He Heard My Car

Robin himself was a guy about my own height, with broad shoulders and a short brown beard. He had twinkling eyes and a solid grip, big hands and a little bit of black curly hair poking out of the top of his t-shirt. He came out when he heard the car , umbrella in hand, smile on his face.

Waved his hand out over the fields while he held the umbrella for me, said it was a beautiful day for a drive; I couldn’t really agree. I hauled my case out of the car and across the drive into the mudroom, and he talked about the place while he showed me the way up to the room.

That’s it for today, pets. Check back tomorrow for part 4 of Frank’s ongoing story, Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test.

Until next time, cocksuckers!

Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test

Hunter — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 11:01:22 +0000

A few years ago, Frank decided to do a little experiment and documented his progress along the way. He dubbed this experiment: Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test. This is part 2 of Frank’s story. If you haven’t already, you will want to read part 1 of Frank’s story, first.

I Want to Suck His Cock Now!

He’s clean and smells like soap and musk. I want to suck his cock and I want it now! I pull him out and stare. He’s circumcised, about six inches long and thick enough around that my fingers barely meet when I close my hand around his throbbing, hard cock.

He sighs, slightly, and takes a sip of his whisky, rests his other hand on the back of my head. It’s a gentle pressure, nothing I couldn’t resist. I bend down and take him into my mouth. His head is warm and slides over my tongue like silk, and my cock wakes up as he comes in past my teeth, his hand sliding into my hair and setting a gentle rhythm.

Sucking His Cock Makes My Own Dick Rock Hard

One hand works under my mouth, sliding up and down his shaft, slipping down to stroke a finger along his balls; I maintain my balance with the other, leaning it alongside his leg. His legs are hard muscle inside the cotton, his balls cupped there inside his pants while his cock and my head bob in his lap is salt, like the sea, and the aftertaste of the whiskey in my mouth.

My cock is pushing on my zipper, almost painfully, and I want to take my hand out and stroke my cock while I’m doing him, stroke myself out right there in front of him and leave a stain under the chair for their maid to wonder about. I’m not wearing underwear just for this reason but this is the first stop on my trip and he’s a powerful man, a hard man, so hard in my mouth and under my fingers and with his hand in my hair that I don’t do it. I’m a little afraid, still, even while his hips jerk a little and his hand holds my head tighter and I can sense his other hand gripping the whiskey glass, tensing.

His Salty Cum Hits the Back of My Throat

I’m a little afraid even when he cums for me, when his head goes back and I’m all the way down his shaft with his pubes getting up my nose while his salty cum hits my throat, fills my mouth with the sea and chlorine and the smell of money. I try and pull back, my neck strains, but his hands have held sailing ropes and billion-dollar contracts and there’s no softness in him, no give, as his hand shoves me down for one last slurp. Then he eases up, slides his fingers back to cup my neck and I gently lick his cock clean while he softens and shudders under my lips.

Henry Vows to Find More Cocks for Me to Suck

I don’t stay long. he sees me out, at ease, relaxed, amused. He says he’ll call some folks, send me contact details in an e-mail. People who he knows are clean. He knows folks all across the world, but I’m only going cross-country. My little taste-test road trip, cum across America. We always do road trips from east to west here, like we’re mimicking the history of white folks conquering the land. I nod and he nods and I leave, the taste of him still there along the back of my throat, and partway down in the woods with nothing but blackness outside my car windows I stop and jerk myself off so hard I cry out in the car, alone.

The Scent of My Cum Mixed With His Fills My Nostrils

I bend my head and smell the scent of my own cum, taste its familiar tang, compare it to the lingering memory of his. I’m sour and spicy, a little bitter. He’s almost pure salt with a touch of something green and dark. I restart the car, turn the headlights back on, and drive down to my motel; but I don’t sleep that night.

I don’t sleep until the sun comes up and I can get the image of him out of my mind, standing against the windows with the sun coming off the sea sparkling on his walls and shadowing his face, lighting his hard hands and the amber of his whiskey glass.

That’s it for today, pets. Check back tomorrow for part 3 of Frank’s ongoing story, Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test.

Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test

Hunter — Sat, 18 Dec 2010 19:40:35 +0000

Meet Henry

Henry is tall, lean, and distinguished. He has hair the silver color that dark brown hair goes when a guy is lucky. His eyes are pale blue and look faded in his tanned, lined face. He’s handsome, in the lean way of sailors; but he’s only a sailor part-time. I picked him because I knew him through a friend, had heard he’d be open to this sort of experiment. That and he had a summer house in Maine, where I wanted to start. I sent him an e-mail. It was a little thrill, a little jolt of electricity up my spine when I hit send, but nothing like the jittering nerves I feel know as I look him in the face. He hasn’t smiled and his handshake is like shaking hands with tree roots. He’s wearing a light blue sweater over a collared shirt and khakis, and I can’t imagine how this is going to go. My mind is a blank. The callouses of his hand are a map, permanently burnt onto my fingers.

Henry Leads Me to His Study and Tells Me We have the House to Ourselves

He nods and leads the way back to his study, a lovely room with a full scenic view of the harbor below. The light is amazing; I didn’t know anything like this was on the other side of the house. Coming up by road, the house is way up in the woods; it’s a dark drive even now in high summer, shadowed by pines all the way from the main up to the drive and the front porch. He owns ten square miles around it. For privacy, he says. It’s a nice place but it isn’t a mansion; just a little ranch-style house up a hill overlooking some of the most beautiful scenery possible, positioned to catch the sunrise coming up over the Atlantic. He says his wife is down in Bangor shopping. He says with a little amusement in his voice that what she could possibly shop for there when they live in Boston half the year he has no idea, but that’s what she says. She won’t be back until tomorrow morning. We have the evening to ourselves.

The Sexual Tension Builds

We drink his whisky and watch the opposite side of the sky from the sunset through the picture windows in his study. It’s glorious. I’ve never looked opposite the sunset. The sky turns every shade of blue before slipping down into black. When darkness is complete up here, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I’m a hillbilly hick nothing from Nevada, and the sky is never as black as this in my desert. Never as pressing, never as close. The little lights of the boats and the bay below us are like fallen colored stars. the only light is the lamp by his chair. The window is a black pane, reflecting us back at ourselves, a little fragment of his study done in smoked glass.

I Want to Suck that Cock More than Anything in the World

He looks at me, his lean face in shadow, and I move over to where he sits, his legs a little apart, leaning back in his leather chair with his glass propped on one arm. I kneel before him. He sits there, hands on the armrests of his chair, and even though I can’t see more than the angles of his face where the lamp highlights his cheekbones I know he’s looking down at me. Waiting. I take a last gulp of whiskey and set my glass down on the carpet beside my knee, and lift my fingers to unzip his fly. My dick, feeling how afraid I am, has curled up somewhere behind my navel and my balls are trying to replace my tonsils.

Under my fingers I feel his cock stir, and my heart lurches…

That’s it for today, pets. Check back tomorrow for part 2 of Frank’s ongoing story, Cum Across America: A Cross Country Taste Test.

Cock Curious

Hunter — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 16:28:04 +0000

What sort of looser goes to a club, gets drunk, and sucks another guy’s cock? A total fucking stranger, a guy he doesn’t even know? Just some random skinny-ass goth dude with excellent hair. You, that’s what kind. You don’t even know what he looks like, not really, not with the strobes and the noise and the shots you did.

You’re Sooo NOT Gay, it isn’t Even Funny!

You, the one pining after the cute, cheerful, way-out-of your league girl from your Japanese class. That makes you straight, right? You’ve been cyberstalking her for a month and a half now, fantasizing about getting your hands under her little skirt, dreaming of her pouty red-lipstick lips wrapped around your dick and slurping away – but here you are, on your knees in someone’s spilled beer in a little room where the pounding beat isn’t as loud as on the floor, but still so loud you can’t hear what anyone’s saying.

Gobbling up that Cock Like a Pro

You’ve got this guy’s skinny ass in your hands and you’re sucking his cock down your throat like it’s got a snot of booze hidden somewhere inside it. You’ve never done it before, but all you have to do is picture those perfect cherry lips on your own cock and you know exactly what to do. Your head is bobbing back and forth to the beat, and he’s got his long thin fingers knotted in your hair – he’s messing up the gel but you don’t care.

Your Girlfriend is in the Other Room and You Choose to be in here Sucking His Cock?

It’s not like she’s talked to you all night anyways, a little messed up hair isn’t gonna matter at this point. You want to taste his cum, you want it. You’ve never tasted a guy’s cum before. Not another guy’s – you tried your own, once, but that was just curiosity.

Caught Sucking Cock!!!

Your eyes are closed, he’s hard and hot and slippery with your spit and then, suddenly, his hands yank on your hair. It hurts like a motherfucker. You open your eyes in shock. He wasn’t anywhere near done, you’re sure of it. Close, but – you see his black pubes, his belly button… is there something in the doorway just past his hip?

Or Maybe She’s NOT in the Other Room at All!

Oh, fuck me, fuck me! Damn, damn, damn! There she is, staring at you both in shock. Her perfect lips are a little smudged, her eyes are huge, and she has two beer bottles in her hands. Four other people in this little club-hopping party, she’s barely said two words to you all night, and this – this is when she comes to find you and say hi?

Um, Not Gay, Really! Cock Curious, that’s all!

When you’re on your knees with a guy’s cock in your mouth for the first time in your life? Shame fires your face and your hands shake. The guy overhead is sort of saying something, but it’s still loud enough to make whatever’s coming out of his mouth nothing but a garble, and – his cock is still hard.

WTF? Let Her Watch!

You could stand up, but why bother?

Instead, you look her dead in the eye and give this guy’s cock a long, slow, wet slurp.

Balls up, bitches.

You’re Just a Straight Guy Who Happens to Like Sucking Cock

Hunter — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 11:33:29 +0000

You love women, you hate musicals, you would never, ever consider wearing a dress. Except one Halloween, and that’s perfectly normal because it was college and it was a trashy wig, and everyone knew you were a guy so it was ok.

You’re not a fag, you don’t take it up the ass, you wouldn’t put your dick in some other guy’s dirt for all the money in the world. So why the fuck are you on your knees in a hotel room slurping away at another man’s cock as desperately as a puppy sucking down a piece of dropped sausage?

You’re so into sucking you forget to relax and nearly start to gag when his fat hot head hits the back of your throat. You catch yourself in time, you don’t puke – nothing’s as quick a buzzkill as puking on a guy’s dick. Your lips are nearly numb from sliding up and down this massive pole, you can feel his pulse there on your tongue.

What’s wrong with you? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing, sugar. Guys’ dicks are gorgeous. They’re awesome. Powerful, hard as a rock but so soft when they slide over your lips. Sucking cock, it’s incredible. Knowing that this guy is in your mouth, totally helpless while you milk him for every last drop of cum – while you suck the cum from him so hard his toes curl and his hips nearly bruise your jaw – it’s a rush like nothing else you’ve ever tasted. It gets you hard, the taste of him, the slick dick sliding in and out of your mouth like candy.

You got a milkshake the other day and sucking on the straw reminded you of this, and you got a boner so fast and hard you had to head straight for the restaurant bathroom. You pictured this moment in your mind while you tried not to make a noise as you came into the toilet paper. You wanted to kneel there on the bathroom floor, but you were in too much of a hurry.

Maybe next time when you have more privacy you’ll get down on your knees and picture this very second, when he’s about tot come and you can feel his ass flex under your hand while his cock jumps in your mouth – you’ll remember the taste of cum spurting, mostly going down your throat but some of it slicking his shaft and making it even slipperier while it goes soft, while you keep sucking until he exhales, grabs your head in his hands and forces you away.

Mmmmm. Your masturbating right now, licking those lips, wishing you were on your knees licking lips that were just wrapped around a cock instead, aren’t you?

You Can’t Really Call it Forced When You and I Both Know it’s Exactly What You Want

Hunter — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 14:15:10 +0000

Hello cock suckers! I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that the Forced Bi Academy has moved to a new home. Why, you might ask? Well, the reason is simple. It can’t really be called “forced” when you and I both know it’s exactly what you want, can it? Well, it could be called that, but it wouldn’t really be a correct assessment, now would it? No, of course not!

Straight Guys Sucking Cock

I mean, let’s just call it what it is, shall we? It’s not “forced” anything; it is straight guys fantasizing about sucking a big, hard dick. It cracks me up that every man in the world has these fantasies but they are all too macho to admit it, so you all think you are the only straight man on the planet that thinks about being a cocksucking slut! The reality is that every one of you has fantasized about sucking cock and a good deal of you have actually sucked a real cock.

I’m Not Gay- I’m Just Obsessed with Cock

Of course you aren’t gay just because you think about sucking cock 24/7. Of course you aren’t gay just because when you are having sex with your wife or girlfriend you find yourself thinking about cock. Bottom line is, you aren’t gay! You are a straight guy sucking cock in your fantasies. Okay, sure. I’ll buy that, but let’s just be honest, here.

When you call me and say you need to be “forced” to suck cock, you are looking for a scapegoat- another way to convince yourself that you aren’t gay. Bottom line? You are a straight guy who wants to suck cock but it makes you feel less gay if a woman is telling you to do it or seduces you into sucking cock.

Seduced Cocksucking

Okay, fine. We can call it seduced cock sucking if it makes you feel any better. I can pretend to seduce you into to doing something you are pretending you don’t want to do. We can pretend you have no desire to be a cock sucking faggot and that you’ve never even given it a fleeting thought.

Sure, we can pretend that. After all, this is just a fantasy, right?

Well, what are you waiting for oh straight man with no desire to suck cock? Give me a call so I can seduce you and convince you to do something you already want to do in the first place!

Muahahahahaha!

He he, after all… if you don’t already suck, you soon will!!

~Empress Hunter

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