Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2008 20:10:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: KY SUB <kysub54@yahoo.com>
Subject: Keith

KEITH
By KySub54@yahoo.com

This is a true story.  I was hanging out in a Yahoo chat
room late one night when he found me.  I'm a 57 year old gay
man living in an urban area of Kentucky, 5'7", 220# with
dark blond hair and blue eyes.  Nothing to look at,
overweight, average to cock.  For the last several years
I've been interested in submission but other than some
online playing haven't explored it much in person because I
haven't found the right man.  I have a hard time trusting
people so haven't been really able to give a stranger
control which gets in the way of really exploring the whole
sub experience.

He asked if I was a sub and I said yes.  He said he was a 27
year old dom.  I immediately pointed out that I was 57 and
asked if he realized how old I was.  He said yes, what was
the difference?  He liked my profile and the photos I had
posted on Flicker with a link on my Yahoo profile.  I'm
uneasy with young men who respond that they are dom tops
when I tell them I am a sub.  Most of them need a good top,
not a sub, but they often claim to be experienced.

He quickly put me at ease and let me know he really was a
dom.  He told me he worked on one of the horse farms in
Central Kentucky, about 1 « hours from me.  I liked his easy
going personality and his way of letting me know that he
would be in control.  It quickly became apparent that we
were in tune sexually and that we could talk to each other
about just about anything despite the differences between
us.

I'm a professional and he is a stable manager, our
educational and social backgrounds are worlds apart.  That
didn't bother me but he was concerned about how my friends
might feel about him.  I told him anyone that made me happy
would be welcomed by my friends but he was still uneasy.  So
we each had an issue clearly identified.  Mine was my age,
his was his limited education.

We agreed to put those things aside and get to know each
other and we proceeded to do that over the next two weeks
through long late night chats on our computers.  I told him
about my work and my family and friends.  He told me about
life on the farm and the pride he took in his work and his
love of horses.  His family connections were much more
complicated than my own, raised by an aunt and uncle with
other aunts and uncles in the scene so that it was hard for
me to understand who was who but he patiently explained each
time I asked.

And he told me all the things we would do together.  We
watched hours of Xtube videos so he could see what turned me
on and so I would understand his interests.  He told me he
would take me to sex parties where I could watch subs being
used.  He liked leather and force, he liked paddles and
crops.  He helped me pick out cock rings and stretchers.  He
told me how he had been raised in the BDSM life since he was
13 and that it was a part of him.  He promised to take me to
places that scarred me and bring be back begging for more.
He saw that I liked bondage scenes with hard face and ass
fucking.  He told me he would fuck me and let me worship his
body, he assured me he would tie me up and blindfold me and
spank and whip me.  He knew what I didn't like but never
said we wouldn't do those things, only that he wouldn't make
me do anything until I was ready.  And he would make sure I
was ready.

He talked of love, of being life partners, of sharing our
dreams in a life we built together.  He promised to teach me
to please him.  Slowly the protective wall I've lived behind
for years began to crumble.  I asked if he had ever had his
heart broken, shattered to the point that you didn't know if
life was worth living.  He said yes and we agreed that we
had both isolated ourselves, wrapped in our pain.

We swore we would never leave each other, that we would go
forward in life together and that we would explore every
aspect of our sexuality.  He said he would take me, hand in
hand, to hell and back and I believed him.  I wanted it.  I
wanted him.  I needed it all.

We talked about him coming here for a week.  We would go on
a date and he would stay at a nearby hotel.  And then, well,
my imagination ran wild.  I knew we could make it work.  I
knew we belonged together.  After two weeks, I was in love,
deeply, completely.  Here was the man who could fill my
darkest sexual desires and my greatest hopes for love and a
future.

And then he was gone.  Late one night, in the middle of a
conversation, he was gone.  I asked him to let me know he
was OK, to email me or to call me.  I stayed up all night
every night for a week hoping he would sign on.  I emailed
and begged him to tell me what had happened.

He was amazing, the man of my dreams. It only took him two

weeks to destroy me.


KySub54@yahoo.com