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I put myself through this every time. I wrap my hand around my hard cock and fantasize about our past encounters, racked with guilt, but unable to think of anything else. My hands move down his chest and stomach as I fall to my knees. I wrap my lips around his still limp dick, loving the feel of it in my mouth as it gets harder and harder. Wow, I really have to make the call.

"Jason?"

"Hey Rob. What's up?"

I am, "Are you free tonight?"

"Sure. When do you want me?"

As soon as fucking possible, "How about 10 o'clock?"

"See you then."

I met Jason about three years ago when he was with one of his clients at a club. I struck up a conversation with them assuming they were an actual couple, but as soon he had a chance he informed me otherwise, and gave me his card. Since then he's received a phone call from me whenever I'm in town. The shame I feel has steadily decreased over the years as I come to terms with the fact that I'm gay. I've never been ...

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