When I was 25, working of my student loans as a 1st year associate in a law firm, I was sent to a professional development class. The theme was goal-setting. You know the kind. Yawn! But, I thought, what if I turned the ideas on my sex life. I came up with the idea of having sex with a guy whose first name represented every letter of the alphabet. I gave myself 5 years (wanted to be realistic). I had a job that involved travel so it made the available pool bigger. The definition of "sex" was open. The only rule was we both had to cum, and past experiences didn't count.
I am blessed with decent looks. I'm 6', 190, lean & muscular as I've honestly enjoyed gym time since high school. My dick is a decent 7", moderate thickness. I've prided myself on the size of my loads and being able to go 2-3 times in a session. I'm not a virgin in any sense with men or women. I'm very versatile; whatever feels good in the moment.
I won't go a-z, but chronologically. Yeah, I achieved my goal 4 days before my 30th birthday.
Micah was a beautiful Jewish boy that I'd see every day behind the counter at his father's coffee shop. Over the years we became familiar with each other and I saw him grow from 13 to 18. He had a clear complexion, straight jet black hair, soft brown eyes and, as he could, a healthy scruff on his upper lip and chin. Out from behind the counter he moved with an easy grace and what I perceived a healthy package hanging in his crotch.
Everyday I'd offer to buy him a cup just to catch his eye. Once or twice a month he'd accept and we'd step outside, lean on the wall and talk casually about life. When he turned 18, I invited him over to my place for a beer and to watch a football game. I swear he got a semi, grinned and said "you bet". I was 25.
The anticipation killed me, but Sunday afternoon he showed up in faded, slouchy jeans, sandals and a simple gray T. It showed off his lean chest and the perfect lump in his crotch. He saw me moving my eyes up & down and merely smiled.
I suggested a football version of strip poker. We each picked a team by flip of coin and had to take off an article of clothing whenever the other team scored. He agreed easily, too easily. I was rock hard and he had to see it. His team scored 2 touchdowns in the first quarter, mine none. To make it provocative, I stripped off my pants and shirt. His eyes widened as I think he expected me to take of my socks. My team scored. He said, "Your choice." Without hesitation I said, "Jeans." He stood right up, within arm's reach, looked me in the eyes the whole time, unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans. He slid them down and off. To my astonishment, he was only wearing a jock strap. His hard on was poking out the side.
His team scored a field goal. "Your choice", I say. "Boxers", is his reply. Off they came with my drooling cock slapping my shirt covered stomach, smearing pre-cum on my denim shirt. "That's messy", he says and just like that he leans over and sucks the length of my dick into his mouth. He won't stop, no matter how much I beg. Up and down, licking, spitting, drooling, gnawing on my head. I'm moaning and saying filthy things to this guy who I've known as a kid. My load is happening. I hold the back of his head, warn him, and explode into his mouth. His eyes widen at the amount but he gulps, and then swallows again, then again. Finally he releases my cock, licks the excess and sits back on the couch.
I'm not big on sex after I cum, so I just lay there, savoring the moment. He's jerking off and before I can offer he explodes across his shoulder then smaller shots down his torso. I lean over; clean off his cock with my tongue, feeling him shudder.
We chat. I am his first; his fantasy. He wants more and I readily agree. He's leaving for college in the fall so we have limited time. Next time I let him fuck me. After that his ass is mine, four times before he leaves. He's off at college and we hope to connect when he's home. I'm sure he's well prepared for college life.
Cross off the letter "M".