I'm a single good looking guy, stay in shape and am financially independent. I can also cook, clean and balance a checkbook. A nice catch for some lady out there, but I've divorced some ten years ago and never felt the need to find a replacement. In short, I'm perfectly comfortable with being alone - except for the sex. Jacking to porn only lasts so long before you need the feel of another person. 

There's another thing about me: I'm lazy. I've dated plenty of women since my divorce, but I found it as tedious as it was unfulfilling. I hate the bar scene and the websites I've tried all had one thing in common: work. I'd forgotten how much effort it took to get laid and only too often found it not worth the time and money spent. I would have tried an escort service, but if I wanted to stay financially independent I'd have to find another outlet for my libido.

Enter male sex.

One evening in frustration, I took a peek at a male hook-up site and things haven't been the same since. No 'dating' needed. No rituals. No out-of-bounds behavior to keep in check. Guys only want sex. Period. I found it as attractive as it was easy. If I get horny, I go online and take my pick of others that want to get off too. Easy-peasy. I dated women less and less and had man-sex more and more.

I'm basically a straight guy and would much prefer a woman's sex, but I'm simply too lazy to put in the work and commitment. I'm also very kinky and too kinky for the women I've met. Guys like to act out their fantasies while women don't even admit having them - let alone acting on them. So I've found an outlet that works for me that allows me to experiment, act out some fantasies and experience some rather risque behavior without having to answer to anyone. 

The funny thing about fantasies is that when you've experienced one, you create another one. One that's more intense than the previous one. And after that, yet another. I don't do drugs but can easily imagine how some people get hooked and eventually become junkies. I guess I was a sex junkie. The more I did, the more I wanted to do. And as long as my friends and/or family remained clueless, I was free to take experiences wherever they led me.

Enter Lloyd.

Lloyd was a guy I met online in a hook-up site. He had an incredible looking penis and body, but he lived two counties over from me. I knew the chance of actually meeting was slim to none. That level of anonymity gave me the freedom to talk with him about everything I've experienced. The gloryholes, the bathhouses, the massages... all of it. There was something about Lloyd that just had me an open book. It was only online chatting but I felt an attraction to being able to recall the details of past experiences without judgment. Hell, the more I wrote the more it turned him on. 

He eventually got a good look into my being and realized that I was more submissive than anything else. He grew to know that I like it when someone takes charge and essentially leads me to experience the various fantasies I've had. Until he mentioned it, it was a common thread that I wasn't even aware of: realizing that any of the truly hot experiences I've had were the ones where I was essentially forced. I put myself into a given situation and wrote about the disappointments and raved about the conquests. All my truly great fantasy fulfillment happened because someone took charge. Lloyd saw it and I didn't. His insight made me want to share everything.

After a while, the same guys on the same websites in the same driveable area got old. It was getting more difficult to fulfill my ever-increasing fantasies and knew the 'local' men wouldn't be up to the task. My fantasies were as intense as ever, but I really didn't know where to look anymore. I told this to Lloyd and he suggested it might help if I were to become his personal online slut. He explained that it might turn me on to perform tasks for him. Sexual tasks. Ones that he knew I might not be comfortable with - and may well get turned on all the more for it. I had to admit that the idea had me intrigued and agreed to try it.

It all started innocently enough, with having to send pictures of my nude self in various positions. Hell, I had already had a library of selfies and just sent Lloyd the ones that fit the bill. But soon the tasks were expanding beyond my library. I was required to send photos of me peeing in a public urinal, driving in my car with my dick out, and standing nude in front of my door wall. I was even instructed to invert myself and jack onto my own face and send him a picture of it. I did it but creatively cropped the photo enough to keep my identity private. I wasn't sure where things were going but did indeed find it exceptionally erotic and often jacked while sending him proof of my obedience. 

It was strange that I was slowly preferring to acquiesce to Lloyd in place of most any other actual sex. Doing what he asked became a huge turn-on. I was sure it would come to an end when he asked for too much of me, but I did enjoy the trip I was on.

One morning I saw a text from Lloyd that instructed me to buy a pair of mesh shorts and remove whatever lining there was. I had a feeling where this was going to lead, but did as instructed. I went to the local department store and picked out something appropriate and spent the evening snipping out its lining. Putting those things on was as close to being nude as one could get - without actually being nude. I felt like such a slut. I sent Lloyd a confirmation photo.

The next morning was a perfectly warm summer Sunday. As I often did, I took my coffee and laptop onto my deck and caught up on the current media news and surfed porn. I was well into reading some political item when I noticed my icon flashing: a new mail on that site. I clicked to open it and found Lloyd online earlier than normal. I opened his text and found an instruction to put on my new mesh shorts and go outside. And take a picture.

I know Lloyd has been leading me toward this type of activity. He knew from past conversations that I lived on the ground floor of a place on a lake next to a stairway that led to the beach. Being so exposed would certainly be humiliating, but it was early and knew it was too early for beach-goers. Besides, I would be sitting for almost all of the time. No one would or could see anything if they even cared to look. The idea grew on me. I could be essentially nude to the world, and not, at the same time. I went inside to put on my new mesh shorts.

By this time, I was hard. The shorts did little to cover that. I emerged with see-through shorts and sat down quickly in my chair and wondered how I was going to 'prove' I did as instructed. I had plenty of neighbors that got up early. Units to my left and right, and three stories of people to catch sight of what I was doing and taking a photo of. Crap. I had to plan and be quick.

I scoped the area and got up to take a selfie when I noticed a guy coming into view coming down the stairs. Shit! I quickly sat back down and reassessed my plan. My dick was really hard by now and I was grateful that I had my laptop to conceal it. I expected to sneak a quick selfie when he had gone past far enough to do so, but he turned toward me at the bottom of the stairs. 

Shit! He must be heading to one of the units on the other side of me! I squeezed my legs together and used my laptop to hide as much as I could as he approached the lawn in front of my deck. "G'morn," I politely said with as much normalcy as I could muster. Rather than answering in kind, he stepped onto my deck and stood in front of me.

"Yeah, it could be," he said. 

I didn't know whether to kick him off my deck or offer him a coffee. He was a handsome dude and fit. I'd never seen him before, but I don't really socialize with the neighbors. Squirming to hide my lower body under that small laptop, I sheepishly asked him what he meant by 'could be'.

"Well, for a start, it could be a good morning if you were to put your computer down and offer me a cup of coffee." My eyes went wide with how brazen he was. He sat down on the chair across from me, sat back and crossed his legs, adding, "I can tell you more after you get me that coffee. Black is good."

I was essentially nude with a hard-on in front of a total stranger. I don't know why, but I decided to let go of inhibition. With butterflies raging inside my stomach, I set my laptop aside, stood and headed inside to fetch a cup of joe. I couldn't help notice his eyes scanning my body and centering on my dick. It was as embarrassing as it was liberating. I returned and offered him a shaking cup and sat back down.

"Thanks for the coffee. And thanks for the show," he said with a smile. He took a sip and continued, "As I was saying, it could be a good morning if... well... you were to suck my dick."

My eyes went wide in shock.

"Don't act so surprised. This is pretty much the scenario you've described: being caught exposed, being told to put on a show... you being told to suck dick."

It was a fantasy of mine, but I couldn't admit it.

"I'm Lloyd and you're the little slut I've been talking with."

Uneasy question marks were shooting out of my head.

"You're wondering how, eh? Pretty basic, actually. I just triangulated you." My eyes went still wider as I realized he'd been tracking me. "Every time we chat, that website tells me how far you are from me. And when it got to within a few hundred feet, I knew all I had to look for is a guy on his deck facing a lake..." He leaned in and added, "and wearing mesh shorts." He sat back again. "It's about time we met. Today was as good a day as any."

My mind was still reeling and I felt as though my face was glowing red. Here was a guy I've shared every degrading detail of my experiences and fantasies with, sitting right across from me. A guy I never intended to actually meet. He knew more about me than anyone and I had a foreboding feeling that it would cost me big time. 

"Stand up, slut," he said. "Show me how hard you are." 

And I was. I was embarrassed to the max, but I was ragingly hard. I stood and my dick was pressed against the thin material enough to make a horizontal tent. I only hoped that other early risers didn't witness my obvious display. I was so centered on my own exposure that I didn't notice how Lloyd's cock was equally straining. I recalled the handsome and shaved cock he had in his online profile and knew what he intended to do with it.

He seemed to enjoy eying my erection and began rubbing his own through his shorts. "I've got just one more task for you today," he said as he got up and led me into my own house. I sheepishly followed him inside and was instructed to sit down on my sofa while he removed his clothing. I wanted to close the drapes, but he reminded me that my fantasy had them open. "The fear of being caught with a dick in your mouth was a turn-on, wasn't it? The drapes stay open."

I was about to protest but fell silent when his cock sprang out of his briefs. He walked over to me and stood between my legs. "Open up, slut." And I did.

He must have fucked my face for half an hour. I was in constant fear of someone walking by just on the other side of the panes of glass of my door wall. If the sight of movement wouldn't cause an innocent peek inside, the sounds of moaning and sloppy squishes certainly would. I half expected to see a crowd gathering outside. When he finally came, his load flooded my mouth enough to ooze out the corners of my lips and cascade down my chin and neck. He patted me on the head and told me I did a good job.

He dressed and left me dripping in sex saying, "Nice to meet you, slut. See ya online."

I could say that that was the end of this story, but it certainly wasn't. The distance was an issue, so visits were infrequent at about once every other month or so. In the meantime, the tasks and photographic proofs filled the void - and became more degrading and risky. He seemed to know how far to take things while still moving the boundary line further and further outside my level of comfort. I knew I was losing control but didn't care. I've never had my fantasies fulfilled before even having them - and I liked it. 

Lloyd began sending men to my home and I was instructed to take photos of the experience. Whether it was a dick in my mouth or a dick in my ass - he wanted proof of my compliance and service to the men he'd send over. He even directed me to take a shot of my being spit-roasted by two men. Where he found these guys, I didn't know and didn't care. I was his slut to be used by whomever, however, and whenever he chose. 

I no longer had any fantasies. Lloyd took care of that for me. Throughout the week, I'd share in minute detail how I felt and what I did in performing his tasks. And about once a week or so, I'd log on in breathless anticipation of the next one.

And Lloyd didn't disappoint.