A Reader's Story. #3
Hi Paul, reading your posts of other reader's stories, I found that so much of them resonated with me and my story. So young and having such a deep attraction to cock, but keeping it secret and holding it down. I did not fully acknowledge and admit to myself that I was gay until much, much later in life. I did have a few encounters, but I always tried to pass them off as young, curious flings. "I'm sure all boys try it," kind of excuses.
My first "fling" came my first year in high school. Under the darkened bleachers at a football game, I kissed a boy. I had kissed several girls before that, but they didn't make me feel the way this did. So deeply aroused! His lips were so soft, even sweet. It made my head spin in a floating kind of way. As quickly as it started, it ended. Both so afraid to get caught, I think.
Almost every weekend, there was a party. At every party, I would look for him. It seemed like we were both trying to get one another's attention, without anyone noticing. Catching his eyes made me tingle inside. Like how I imagine when other boys see a pretty girl. Don't get me wrong, I liked girls, I still find them beautiful. This was different. Watching to see if the other left, hoping that it was a sign. He did and I followed, a safe distance behind. When he went behind some bushes, I followed. There, in the dark, like another of your reader's wrote, I made that magical, hypnotic journey to my knees. Just like they said, the excitiement was overwhelming. Also, just like they said, taking his cock into my mouth felt so wonderfully erotic, yet natural. It didn't feel for*ed, it didn't feel strained. My mouth felt made for him. It all just seemed so right. Such a strange and incredible, new sensation to hear a boy nearing orgasm. His breathing quickened, his muscles became tense. I have to agree with the stories I have read, I almost seemed to crave his cum and never thought about not letting him finish in my mouth. I remember I tasted this oddly wonderful flavor right before the first, powerful shot of sperm hit the back of my throat. I swallowed. To this day, I am not sure if it was because I had to or wanted to. I was sure of the feeling it gave me. Like that first kiss, a magical floating and light headed tingle. Now, I would call it, "being of feeling, tlpsy."
Where I grew up, it wasn't done. So repressed, I'm sure that it had something to do with my not admitting to myself my lusts. Into college, I still called them, to myself, "flings." I meet a professor there. The atmosphere was very different in college. Although not openly accepted, there was much more freedom in my coming and goings. Somehow, I think we both knew that there was an attraction. Finding reasons to stay after at first, to be alone. A touch, a glance, I was aching for another experience. He was married, like I said, times were different then. Also a professor, she traveled alot which left him alone. I'm sure he had many "flings" while she was away. I desperately wanted to be his latest. That first time, in his apartment. My whole body felt like one big exposed nerve. I had been with girls, by then, but none created such anticipation and thrill. Achingly thrilling, getting undressed, the sight of his hanging cock. So desperate, I told myself that he could have me anyway he wanted, there was little that I would not do. I wantsd to experience it all.
Touching another man, feeling that passion. There is nothing stronger. Such a deep set, indescibable need. I fell to my knees for him and kissed his handsome dick. I felt such a passion. Always the teacher, I had me stand, saying, "We have all night." He ran his hands over my chest and brought his lips to my nipples gently licking and sucking them. Before this, I never would have thought that I could get so close to orgasm without my cock even being touched. I did the same to him and then we kissed in a moaning exchange of tongues. And so it went on, him showing, me learning.
In my twenties, back at home, I knew that a town, several over, had a large gay community. In one of many bars, I met a tall, large man. I will never forget what he said to me. Standing there, drinks in hands, he said, "Sex, pleasing a man's body is easy. I want the man. I want his mind." My knees felt a little weak as I thought about the meaning of his statement. He enjoys the conquer. He enjoys making guys who are maybe on the fence or maybe just looking for an experience, fall for him. To make them gay for him. Oh my! I asked if he lived close...
Afterwards, I had his scent all over me. I could feel his cum on my skin, his musk on my face. He said that I could shower, if I wanted, but that he would like it if I didn't. "I want you to smell my sex on you, on your way home. I want you to remember how you tongued in my ass. Remember my cock, deep up yours. How you moaned for it. How you let me shoot my load, all over you. Taste it, still on your tongue and in your belly."
I pulled over, remembering his earlier words. I felt this deep sense of satisfaction. My body used for his, our, pleasure. I smiled to myself. My hands ran over my chest and down to my spent cock. I felt like I wanted to be his. I wanted this complete feeling not to end. It dawned on me that my feelings went beyond just sex. Had I fallen for him? He had said he wanted a man's mind. This, I thought, was what he meant. To make a man fall in love with him. Paul, words from one of your earlier stories comes to mind. Can a man's cum be a sort of magic potion? A magic love potion? Taking over a man's mind?
In the days that followed, I felt lost and empty without him. My body craved him, but it was something deeper. I would not allow myself to fully acknowledge it, however. It was, afterall, just a fling, right? I mean, I wasn't totally gay, right?
The next time I saw him, I told him that I missed him. It was a big step for me to admit such a thing to a man. I didn't plan on saying it, it just came out. Especailly since I knew that he probably had not given me a second thought... He asked me if I, "wore his scent home." I started to get a hard on immediately. I told him that I did. I did not tell him how much I loved it, though. I asked if we could go to his bed. He simply responed with, "Sure, in a bit." I'm sure that he could tell how badly I wanted to be with him. Was he waiting for me to admit that? Was he going to make me beg? He sat back in a chair and asked what I wanted. He watched me as I got one my knees. Yes, I would tell him. I would say it all out loud. Rubbing his thighs, I told him that I wanted him, that I wanted his cock. The words just started spilling out. "I want your cock! I want your cum! I want you to fuck me!" I was even looking into his eyes when I said it! He had very quickly broken me. That, I now knew, was exactly what he had alluded to when we first met. This is what he meant.
It was a torrid week of unbeliveable sex. Every position, everything from making love to just straight up getting fucked silly. I would not of thought myself a "bottom," yet for him it came so naturally. I thought that this could not be who I was. This was not how people could see me. Maybe, I didn't want people to see that side of me. I never went back to him. As anyone who has ever denied such powerful feelings and urges knows, they never really go away, however.
Flash foward many years, I found it more and more difficult to ignore my cravings. They had only grown stronger. I often turned to porn. I almost completely just gay porn, now. I was so turned on by men, their bodies asses and cocks. When I was younger, I never would of thought that. Yes, cock and sucking cock, but nothing like this. Men, lf all ages shapes, sizes and races. I realized that now, it was only men that I wanted and craved. It is only men that aroused me, now. So many hears later, I went back to that town. I went back to that bar. Would that man still be there?
My first "fling" came my first year in high school. Under the darkened bleachers at a football game, I kissed a boy. I had kissed several girls before that, but they didn't make me feel the way this did. So deeply aroused! His lips were so soft, even sweet. It made my head spin in a floating kind of way. As quickly as it started, it ended. Both so afraid to get caught, I think.
Almost every weekend, there was a party. At every party, I would look for him. It seemed like we were both trying to get one another's attention, without anyone noticing. Catching his eyes made me tingle inside. Like how I imagine when other boys see a pretty girl. Don't get me wrong, I liked girls, I still find them beautiful. This was different. Watching to see if the other left, hoping that it was a sign. He did and I followed, a safe distance behind. When he went behind some bushes, I followed. There, in the dark, like another of your reader's wrote, I made that magical, hypnotic journey to my knees. Just like they said, the excitiement was overwhelming. Also, just like they said, taking his cock into my mouth felt so wonderfully erotic, yet natural. It didn't feel for*ed, it didn't feel strained. My mouth felt made for him. It all just seemed so right. Such a strange and incredible, new sensation to hear a boy nearing orgasm. His breathing quickened, his muscles became tense. I have to agree with the stories I have read, I almost seemed to crave his cum and never thought about not letting him finish in my mouth. I remember I tasted this oddly wonderful flavor right before the first, powerful shot of sperm hit the back of my throat. I swallowed. To this day, I am not sure if it was because I had to or wanted to. I was sure of the feeling it gave me. Like that first kiss, a magical floating and light headed tingle. Now, I would call it, "being of feeling, tlpsy."
Where I grew up, it wasn't done. So repressed, I'm sure that it had something to do with my not admitting to myself my lusts. Into college, I still called them, to myself, "flings." I meet a professor there. The atmosphere was very different in college. Although not openly accepted, there was much more freedom in my coming and goings. Somehow, I think we both knew that there was an attraction. Finding reasons to stay after at first, to be alone. A touch, a glance, I was aching for another experience. He was married, like I said, times were different then. Also a professor, she traveled alot which left him alone. I'm sure he had many "flings" while she was away. I desperately wanted to be his latest. That first time, in his apartment. My whole body felt like one big exposed nerve. I had been with girls, by then, but none created such anticipation and thrill. Achingly thrilling, getting undressed, the sight of his hanging cock. So desperate, I told myself that he could have me anyway he wanted, there was little that I would not do. I wantsd to experience it all.
Touching another man, feeling that passion. There is nothing stronger. Such a deep set, indescibable need. I fell to my knees for him and kissed his handsome dick. I felt such a passion. Always the teacher, I had me stand, saying, "We have all night." He ran his hands over my chest and brought his lips to my nipples gently licking and sucking them. Before this, I never would have thought that I could get so close to orgasm without my cock even being touched. I did the same to him and then we kissed in a moaning exchange of tongues. And so it went on, him showing, me learning.
In my twenties, back at home, I knew that a town, several over, had a large gay community. In one of many bars, I met a tall, large man. I will never forget what he said to me. Standing there, drinks in hands, he said, "Sex, pleasing a man's body is easy. I want the man. I want his mind." My knees felt a little weak as I thought about the meaning of his statement. He enjoys the conquer. He enjoys making guys who are maybe on the fence or maybe just looking for an experience, fall for him. To make them gay for him. Oh my! I asked if he lived close...
Afterwards, I had his scent all over me. I could feel his cum on my skin, his musk on my face. He said that I could shower, if I wanted, but that he would like it if I didn't. "I want you to smell my sex on you, on your way home. I want you to remember how you tongued in my ass. Remember my cock, deep up yours. How you moaned for it. How you let me shoot my load, all over you. Taste it, still on your tongue and in your belly."
I pulled over, remembering his earlier words. I felt this deep sense of satisfaction. My body used for his, our, pleasure. I smiled to myself. My hands ran over my chest and down to my spent cock. I felt like I wanted to be his. I wanted this complete feeling not to end. It dawned on me that my feelings went beyond just sex. Had I fallen for him? He had said he wanted a man's mind. This, I thought, was what he meant. To make a man fall in love with him. Paul, words from one of your earlier stories comes to mind. Can a man's cum be a sort of magic potion? A magic love potion? Taking over a man's mind?
In the days that followed, I felt lost and empty without him. My body craved him, but it was something deeper. I would not allow myself to fully acknowledge it, however. It was, afterall, just a fling, right? I mean, I wasn't totally gay, right?
The next time I saw him, I told him that I missed him. It was a big step for me to admit such a thing to a man. I didn't plan on saying it, it just came out. Especailly since I knew that he probably had not given me a second thought... He asked me if I, "wore his scent home." I started to get a hard on immediately. I told him that I did. I did not tell him how much I loved it, though. I asked if we could go to his bed. He simply responed with, "Sure, in a bit." I'm sure that he could tell how badly I wanted to be with him. Was he waiting for me to admit that? Was he going to make me beg? He sat back in a chair and asked what I wanted. He watched me as I got one my knees. Yes, I would tell him. I would say it all out loud. Rubbing his thighs, I told him that I wanted him, that I wanted his cock. The words just started spilling out. "I want your cock! I want your cum! I want you to fuck me!" I was even looking into his eyes when I said it! He had very quickly broken me. That, I now knew, was exactly what he had alluded to when we first met. This is what he meant.
It was a torrid week of unbeliveable sex. Every position, everything from making love to just straight up getting fucked silly. I would not of thought myself a "bottom," yet for him it came so naturally. I thought that this could not be who I was. This was not how people could see me. Maybe, I didn't want people to see that side of me. I never went back to him. As anyone who has ever denied such powerful feelings and urges knows, they never really go away, however.
Flash foward many years, I found it more and more difficult to ignore my cravings. They had only grown stronger. I often turned to porn. I almost completely just gay porn, now. I was so turned on by men, their bodies asses and cocks. When I was younger, I never would of thought that. Yes, cock and sucking cock, but nothing like this. Men, lf all ages shapes, sizes and races. I realized that now, it was only men that I wanted and craved. It is only men that aroused me, now. So many hears later, I went back to that town. I went back to that bar. Would that man still be there?
1 月 前
