My hands are running under his shirt, and before long I reach into his jeans and into his underwear. He's huge, as I knew from his photos, but to be feeling my first cock in my hand, soft-to-hardening as I breathe in his musty male scent, so different from the perfumed odour of women, is an extraordinary rush. We're rubbing up against each other, both breathing heavily though he's the calmer of the two.
Then he senses something in my desire which I do not yet know myself, though I had fantasised about it through porn and in my dreams.
He puts his thumb in front of my lips. I open them gently, and take his thumb into my mouth and suck it. And what I know in that second is that I will shortly have his cock in my mouth. That I'm a cocksucker a COCKSUCKER a cocksucker I will suck his cock oh god I will adore his cock that I want it and that nothing else makes sense in that instant but to have this strange man in my mouth. And the fact that he has anticipated my desire, known it before I had known it consciously only makes me want it more. That I've ever so gently, and ever so craftily, been manipulated into taking off his jeans, and down his underwear, and sliding my mouth round my first penis. Which both tastes and feels strange to me, much softer even in its hardening state than I'd ever dreamt, like the biggest, softest thumb you've ever dreamed of, with that slightly rubbery slightly salty taste of foreskin. I'm bewitched, and as my tongue licks up from the base of his balls all the way up the shaft of his penis to envelope round the tip of his now hard cock, beguiled. Helpless. All I remember at this point is a stray glimpse of the pink starfish of his anus.
It's taken an impossibly short time from the first strokes of his massage to this first taste of his dick. Perhaps three minutes, no more.
After a few minutes of enjoying his taste in my mouth, we embrace again and rub our bodies and hard penises together. I feel his cock pushing against my anus, though I know we're not going to fuck and I know he also knows that. He's too big for one thing. And for another, I'm psychologically not ready.
Our rubbing embrace lasts for minutes, my groans now uncontrolled. I'm enjoying the feel of his flesh next to mine, the hairy chest, the hardness of the musculature, the softness of the flesh, the dazzling feel of his sexual organ between my legs.
Then, unbelievably, we come within seconds of each other, my semen spraying out over the inside of his thighs, feeling wet hot and happy.
I will confess that the draining of desire post-orgasm makes me recoil slightly. I'm both deflated and strangely still hyper, and without the intensity of sexual desire I'm feeling a little uncomfortable about my nakedness next to his body, even though I'm enjoying the wet sensation of our sperm covered thighs. He rubs my hair and asks me if I want a lift home. I say, I could do with a walk.
