The following is (unfortunately) a work of fiction. It involves mature themes of man/man sex. If you are under 18 or prohibited from viewing such material you should either cease reading this immediately, or move.
My first experience. The events that took place ushering me into the scary, wild, passionate, uninhibited world of sex with men. The relationship that shook me out of my preconceptions and revealed my true nature - a man who loves to be loved (and loved, and loved again) by other men.
I was just 22 and new to the city. I had moved the previous spring from a fairly typical small town, and I had spent the past few months finding work and setting up an apartment. I knew a few other people who had also come from my hometown, but I certainly wasn't overwhelmed by a huge number of friends and acquaintances. The main reason for this was that I'm pretty shy by nature. I tend to keep to myself for the most part and many nights I'm at home alone. Strangely enough though, I worked in a trade that shy people like me don't often end up in; I was a bartender in a popular local pub. For me it was the opportunity to come out of my shell a little. At work I was outgoing and confident, and by all accounts I was very good at my job. But outside of work I reverted to my quiet self.
So, maybe you're wondering about my sexual activities? Well, I dated girls. Shock! I know, what am I doing then writing this kind of story found on this kind of website? Patience please. I was attracted to girls and I still find them beautiful to look at, and I enjoyed making love to them very much. But don't forget, I was 22 and practically anything made me horny. Girls were just the most socially acceptable outlet for my needs. My more consistent needs were less analyzed, but practiced more. What I mean by that is most nights when I was home alone I was pleasing myself sexually, but I sort of kept a wall up in my head as to what I was thinking about and what this meant.
In other words, I masturbated (a lot) and it was almost always while thinking about having sex with men. I still looked at pictures of hot sexy women while I was doing it, but I would imagine myself as the women. If the sexy young girl was bending down to engulf her lover's thick cock in her mouth, I wished it were my mouth taking it in. If she was on all fours being fucked roughly from behind I could barely hold back from cumming as I imagined myself in her position and what it would feel like to have such a big cock buried deep in my ass pounding and pounding me until I was filled with hot cum. (Whew! I'm getting quite excited writing this so I'm just going to stop for a moment. I will resume in a few minutes after I ask my lover to give me a quick fuck)
Okay, I'm back. Mmmmmmmm! Now, as I was saying before being sidetracked by lust, I was a young guy, new to the city, oblivious to my sexual tendencies, or at least content to do nothing about it. This all changed in one night.
The people I worked with at the bar were pretty much all very nice and we got along well. One of the girls dated a stockbroker or something and he lived in an amazing apartment that looked out over the city. One weekend they had a party and Rachel (that's her name) invited some of the staff, including me. Normally, I probably wouldn't have gone. I'd have invented a reason and stayed home. But Rachel was insistent and she was the kind of girl that it was better to go along with that try to fight. So I went with the intention to show up, make an appearance, and leave early.
At his point it may be appropriate to give you a brief description of myself. I'm HOT!! Uh, well, I know that's what most authors would put here, but the reality is I think I'm just average looking. I know I'm good looking enough to have girls hit on me sometimes (guys too, but I was always too shy to respond) but I'm not going to say I was beautiful. I had shoulder length light brown hair, blue eyes, and I stand about 5' 10''. One thing I must say - I was in really good shape. And apparently I have a really good ass - which makes me very happy because I like to use it, or should I say, have it used, a lot. I had recently gotten contact lenses so I didn't look quite as much as the geek-nerd I had looked like in my hometown, and I was wearing designer jeans that I knew showed off my ass to the best of it's ability. I just thought it would be the girls that would be checking it out.
The party turned out to be way more fun than I expected. The apartment was huge and Rachel's boyfriend was actually a nice and funny guy, much to everyone on staff's amazement. It was also filled with really cool people that I had not had the opportunity to cross paths with so far in the city. As a result, I ended up staying and actually meeting some people. Like most shy people I needed a little help, so four or five beers were providing me with the courage to be outgoing. And I was. I had switched over to bartender mode so I was telling jokes and funny stories fearlessly. It was at about his point that I saw Miles.
Miles is black. Sure I had seen black people before, but the small town I grew up in had about five African-Americans (sorry, no offence intended) so it was still a thrill for me to see and talk to "them". (again, sorry) What this shouldn't do is turn into a race-driven story. That Miles is black is important, but I believe everything that did happen, would still have happened regardless of whether he had been Caucasian, Asian, or Native American. But it was still pretty cool. I had never lusted for black men and black cocks exclusively; I had just lusted for cocks. That Miles was black was secondary to the fact that he was fucking gorgeous and apparently quite interested in me. This was becoming more and more clear as the evening wore on. At first he was just in the circle of people where we were telling stories. He seemed to know Rachel's boyfriend and everybody loved his style and quick wit. He was one of those people that everyone just gravitates towards and you just wish they would talk to you for a bit, but in my case anyway, I was seemingly never cool enough to rate that kind of attention. Miles however, was talking to me and I was suddenly unbelievably nervous and at a loss for words. In the past when something like this happened it would just be a confirmation of my tremendous un-coolness and lead to an immediate shunning. Like, "Oh, you're a babbling idiot. I'm sorry. For a second there I thought you were someone cool. I'll be leaving now."
But this wasn't happening tonight. Miles hung with the group until we got close enough to speak with each other. Now, I know it's crazy, but from the moment he had appeared I had the overwhelming feeling that this is what he had wanted to do. I just felt this "connection" between us that said, "I really want to talk to you." And as this feeling grew, so did my excitement. This fantasy that the best looking guy in the place would want to talk to me was working overtime in my brain. If Beyonce, wearing only a smile, had suddenly shown up and asked me to take her home I wouldn't have moved from that spot - the one that Miles was slowly working his way towards. The heterosexual portion of my brain had been kidnapped and was being locked in a trunk and dumped in the lake.
"Hi, I'm Miles." Great voice - Oh! A handshake - very firm grip - nice big hands - don't start thinking about what that means now! And electricity! In the touch of his skin against mine, like we both knew that since laying eyes on each other this moment had been or mutual goal.
"Uh, hi. I'm Chris. It's really nice to mean you." Oh god - was I gushing?
"You're a funny guy." He was laughing. I was busy falling in love.
"Well I have my moments, but, um... so, what do you do?" Miles told me about himself; he was a student at the local university taking Sports Medicine. This had come about because he had once played football. He made it sound pretty minor but it became apparent that he had once been quite good, until an injury had ended his hopes of making it a career. It was clear to me though that he had lost none of the physique of an athelete. He was at least three inches taller than me and his long legs and taut belly indicated someone who was still looking after their conditioning.
We talked. At any moment I was sure he would realize what a boring person I really was and politely excuse himself. I was already planning my sad consolation prize - a frantic wack-off session at home imagining my big black stud with me in my bed. But he stayed. And we kept talking, and laughing, and I had a few more drinks.
The next part of the evening came when it was time for the fireworks. Not figurative ones - real ones. The party was on a night when there were fireworks each weekend over the bay. The apartment gave a fantastic view and when it was time for them to start everyone in the place stopped, turned down the lights, and found a place to watch.
Miles grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him. "Come with me. I scouted out the perfect place to watch." Yeah, like I was going anywhere other than with him. But I still thrilled at his touch. Miles led me to a spot near the balcony where I could get right up to the railing. There were still lots of people there, but someone as relatively short as me could see just fine. The problem was I am nervous around heights.
"That's okay," said Miles when I bashfully explained my phobia. "I'll be right behind you. I won't let you fall."
So surrounded by people, we turned and watched the beginning of the show, and I became very aware of Miles' body very close behind me. I almost imagined I could feel the heat from his body radiating out to me. I swayed back accidentally, a little tippsy from the drinks I had had and felt his big chest stop my fall.
"You'd better stay there so you don't fall," he whispered into my ear. I did. Thrilling at the closeness, the contact that felt so intimate. Then I felt his hand at my waist. I suppose this was the point that I would have stopped things if I had not been... well, interested. But I didn't stop them. I just stood there and felt my heart pound as the most beautiful, sexy man I had ever meet was holding my waist in his hands. Ironically, it was the number of people that made it so secret. No one could see his big hands hold me. Nor could they see when one of his hands began moving slowly around to my ass.
I was becoming aware of the fact that I had been very erect for the past several minutes. Now, I was almost really to burst. Miles moved his hand until it was gently cupping one of my butt cheeks, then he slowly, and sensuously began to squeeze.
This slow-motion grope of my ass continued as more fireworks went off. This was easily the most erotic event of my short life so far. My rigid boner pulsed with contained excitement and my heart pounded so hard I thought I could hear it. Then, Miles took my wrist with his other hand, and moved it back and onto the front of his jeans.
I knew my cock was hard and as big as it was going to get, but I was not prepared for the signals that the palm of my hand were sending to my already spinning brain. Miles had a huge erection and I was rubbing it while he was feeling up my ass. I just gave myself over to the marvellous feeling I was getting from my ass and hand. There we stood, inches from other people but oblivious to them, as I let another man fondle my ass like a girl's and I encouraged him by rubbing my hand up and down the length of his huge prick.
Then it was over. With one huge BANG the fireworks show ended and the people around us began to break apart and move back into the room. Miles and I immediately pulled away from each other and I attempted to regain my composure.
Feeling more than a little drunk and spun from what we had just been doing to each other I offered no resistance when Miles took me by the wrist again and led me into the bathroom. Luckily, in such a big apartment there were several bathrooms, so it was empty. As soon as the door closed we fell on each other. I was ripping at Miles' pants while he was trying to pull his shirt over his head. I succeeded in unbuttoning and unzipping him while he continued to remove his t-shirt. Suddenly, I found myself on my knees looking up at this gorgeous man in front of me, pants down around his knees, smooth muscled abs and chest, and between bobbed a huge black cock. I looked up at the need in his eyes and knew what to do - what I had been born to do. In one smooth motion I took Miles' black rod in my hand and directed it's fat knob towards my open mouth.
I noted, the moment before my tongue made contact that the head of Miles' beautiful cock was glistening with pre-cum. It didn't make me hesitate for a second. In fact, in my delirious sexual frenzy it excited my even more. The warm feeling of his cock as it entered my mouth and the wonderful flavour from the pre-cum only made the moment more special. I wanted to completely please this man and I knew the way to do this was to completely honour everything he had to give me. So I moaned in pleasure as my head began moving back and forth trying to get as much of his thick cock in my mouth as possible. I slurped up the dribble of pre-sperm and whispered how delicious it was. I had never sucked a cock before but I had dreamed of doing it for years and I knew what was going to happen. I also knew that I wanted it to happen.
"Cum in my mouth Miles. I want you to shoot your big cock into my mouth!"
"Oh, baby! That's it! Keep sucking! You bad little cocksucker!" Apparently he was okay with my plan. And I was thrilled to be called a 'cocksucker.' I would have fought you if you'd have called me that anywhere else or at any other time, but for Miles I wanted to be his cocksucker and I loved the way it felt to hear him call me one.
The actual sucking didn't go on for very long. I would like to think this was because of my advanced cocksucking technique, but it was probably just because we had worked ourselves into such a frenzy before the sucking. In any event, there was only a few glorious minutes of blissful sucking before Miles cried out...
"Oh! Oh! Here it comes! Take it! Take it!" And I met another man's sperm for the first time. Actually, I met rather a lot. What saved me from drowning was my advanced state of excitements that compelled me to immediately and without delay, begin to swallow my lover's copious love-seed that flooded my mouth. I just love the sound of that moment. One man is awash in orgasm and urging his body to fire as much cum as possible into the mouth that is lovingly fellating him. He is grunting with pleasure. The other man (me) is slurping and moaning as the sweet sap is fired into my mouth, or blasted across my face, coating me in a layer of jism. It is such an intimate moment. I know that it changed me forever. The knowledge that I liked (no - Loved) sucking on a man's cock was a breakthrough. This wasn't just me, a jar of Vaseline, and a stack of porn mags. I had just been successful in bringing a fully-grown man to a crashing climax with my mouth. It was about at this time when I noticed that, unaided, I had achieved an orgasm of my own. To cum, while sucking not being sucked, indicated a fairly high level of excitement. I could deny it no more. I was a cocksucker and I wanted to do it again.
Please tell me what you think. I write for my own pleasure, but more importantly, for yours. So please let me know if my little story brings you any. I would like to continue the story as soon as time permits. I am imagining the story to very soon include Miles gently but firmly taking my young and willing cherry. I would also like to include elements of cross-dressing as I dress up for my lover's pleasure.
Thank you for reading.