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No, there is no chapter 13, bad luck, note that some airports do not have a gate 13 and some do, this story does not.
Wen again.
There were plenty of chances for good sex without pushing Wen beyond his comfort zone, and some of what follows is out of order with this tale, but getting Wen to accept man to man sex, in most of its forms, as a top, took about two weeks. Getting him to bottom, took almost six weeks, and some weed.
"A hole is a hole" seemed to be the best theme for my slow seduction of him, it was not "gay" to fuck a guy, or have his cock sucked, or jerked off, by a guy, since it felt the same as if it were done by a female, although, as most guys who are into it will agree, 90% of guys give better head than 90% of women, and most assholes, male or female, are much tighter than most pussies.
Even though his eyes were "shut" the first time we played, he knew I had sucked his cock, and knew it felt really good, and, a few days later showed up at my bedside, with his hard cock tenting his boxers, wearing nothing else, and said, "I am so fucking horny."
I could have teased him, and led him on, and almost did, but figured a cock in the hand is worth two in the bush, and grabbed it and pulled it out of his boxers. It bent to the right, as usual. I sat up and put my mouth on it, and did my best to get it down my throat a little, and, once on a roll, got my hands on his ass cheeks, and pulled him in, and, got a finger on his hole, a bit of lube from my night stand, and got it in a little, and worked it. He was in extasy, and I was feeling pretty good myself. "Play with my nips," I told him, "pretend they belong to Alicia."
With my mouth on his cock, a finger up his ass, my other hand on my cock, and his hands on my nips and pecs, we both came, in no time, but, we did have to work on the next morning, getting up at 5:30.
"Straight guys put things up their asses," he said, saving his hetero face.
"Sure do," I said. "Asshole play feels good, no matter if you are straight or gay. Another time we can do some experimentation in that area. It still does not mean you are gay if we do."
A few days went by, I had sex with a few of the other guys, stories are below, and sometimes I could feel him jerking off in the top bunk, and I suppose he could hear me doing the same, but we did not do any joint action, or talk about it.
Then, on Saturday, after supper, sitting on the porch of the ranch house, no one else around, the married guys had gone home, most of the rest of the hands had gone into town, we were assigned "fire watch" duty, nobody had to stay awake all night, but we had to be there sober in case an alarm went off -- all the buildings were alarmed, and we had an old Ford pumper, retired from some rural fire department, as the first line of defense, all trained on how to drive it, and how to use the pump and hoses.
He said, "You know, I have been thinking about asshole sex. Not that I want you to fuck me, but maybe we can explore a little?"
"Sure," I replied, "let's go, I will get my douche syringe, and first we will clean out our holes. Shit happens, with anal sex, but we can do a lot to minimize or even avoid it. First, clip your fingernails. The rectal lining is fragile in a way, it is easy to scratch it, hard to rupture it. So, fingernails are a problem, but a blunt cock, hard as it is, is not, as long as it is aimed right." We clipped our nails.
I got my supplies, we stripped, went into the bathroom, nobody else in the dorm that night, and with a little soap and water, had him bend over my knees, me sitting on one of the toilets, and put the syringe in, squeezed the bulb, told him to keep the water in as long as he could, then shit it out. He did. We did it again, and the water out was almost clean. We did it again, and it came out clear.
Then he did me, "Aim the nozzle at my belly button," I told him. It took me four tries before my shit was just clear water.
I washed his ass, he washed mine, and off to the bottom bunk. "69 position, lube on your fingers, side by side, top leg up for access, and do to me what I do to you."
"I could eat your ass, I know it is clean, but not tonight, I am sure you are not ready for that, but if you watch the gay porn, you see that the top often eats the ass of the bottom before he fucks him. I have always thought there is nothing more submissive than eating a guy's ass, but that seems to be what they do on gay porn, and, in my experience, once in great while in real life."
We laid down, I first rimmed his hole with my lubed fingers, he did me. I slowly put one finger in, he did me, I put it way in, he did me. I found his prostate and massaged it. It took him a while, but he found mine.
"Now, prostate massage is a very personal thing, from one guy to another. In the heat of hard fucking, it is pretty much the same for all of us, but at this stage too much, or too little, pressure can be a problem. So let me know how I am doing, and I will do the same for you. This is the meat of our experimentation."
We played around like this for quite a while, I eventually got three fingers in, he got four in me, meanwhile we were both dripping precum like crazy. I licked his off his cock, he almost licked mine. "Go for it," I said. "Lick up my precum, it is not like you were sucking my cock, but I will suck yours."
"No, that is too gay for me," he complained. "But, I will jerk you off."
So, we continued, I sucked his cock and fingered his hole, he jerked me off and fingered my hole, and we both came, him in my mouth, me mostly in his fist, but partly on his face.
"Fuck," his favorite word, and hopefully soon, his favorite activity, "that felt awfully good. But for me, it was not gay, it was just getting off. I think "gay" is when you are in love or at least have an attraction to a guy, this is just sex."
"OK with me," I said. "Whatever works for you works for me."
I was planning my next move, in Cheyanne, there was a porn store that had a good selection of sex toys. My plan was on my next visit to buy a dildo, not too big, not too small, and get Wen to try it. It would only be ass play, not gay, at least to his masculine image.
We cleaned up and went to sleep in our own bunks.