A New Year a New Me

Well everybody you'll have to forgive me. I normally write stories not accounts so this is a bit awkward for me but there doesn't seem to be another way to tell this story. I can't sit back tell this story like it happened so somebody else because it didn't. It happened to me and I can't sit back and tell this like it was some kind of story I made up about someone else. I guess I'll start off by telling you a bit about myself, since it always makes things a little easier to relate to.

My name is Clive Blankenship and like most men born after about nineteen eighty I've always been a bit confused about how I'm supposed to behave. I mean I enjoy going to the occasional play, Wicked was immense and if you haven't seen it yet you should go there, right now. Stop reading this and go watch Wicked. I've been known to occasionally go to a concerts that don't involve rappers or rockers. I could bore you to death with why I like girls wearing A-line skirts instead of circles. I'm the guy who walks into a party and wonders what the fuck was going through that girls head when she put on those shoes. They hardly match her bra and panties. Most nights I got to get her out of those shoes and the bra and panties too but I shouldn't have noticed them in the first place. At least not according to modern culture. Obviously that's caused me a few problems over the years, I can barely hold a conversation for a few minutes without either faking every other word out of my mouth or being constantly called a fag. Even girls make fun of me for being girly.

Then there is the other part. There is the part where I find some men attractive, not every man, just some. It's not like women where most reasonably attractive women turn me on. I don't like skinny chicks, and by skinny I mean the ones that could cut their hair short and pass for a sixth grade boy. I don't like fat chicks either, and by fat I mean the girls that it's hard to tell where their tits and hips are because their entire body is one big undefinable blob. I'm not talking about a girl with a little meat on her bones or even sorta thick. I mean I don't like fat chicks. I'm much pickier about the guys that I like.

I'll give you a few examples though just so you can know the kind of guys that I find attractive. James Marsters has got to be just about the sexiest man that has ever walked the earth. He played Spike on Buffy and made Smallville watchable for all of a single season. Given a half a second I'd lick the sweat from his abs and any place else that alabaster Adonis would allow. Then there is Stuart Townsend, the guy who played Lestat in the nearly unwatchable Queen of the Damned movie. I swear to god they must not have read the book before they made the movie. They didn't even get Lestat's hair the right color. Between him and Alliyah though I managed to suffer through it. Yeah I have a thing for vamps. The last guy that really stands out to me Jensen Ackles, he was on the short lived Dark Angel and now he's on the show Supernatural. Shit he could probably even get a little rough and I wouldn't complain.

Normally I'm more than smart enough to just shut the fuck up about that kind of thing. People might say that they are okay with homosexuals, which I'm quite certain I'm not, I'm very attracted to women., or bisexuals but what they really mean is that they don't mind anything that doesn't effect them directly. They would be fine with you being gay, but not with you pointing out that Jensen Ackles has an incredible ass. They wouldn't try to stop you from marrying the man of your dreams but they wouldn't be your best man either. At least that's been my general experience with the situation.

The result is that I'm not even sure if I'm actually bi. I mean I know I've had, as my sister is fond of pointing out "man crushes" that have been obvious to anybody paying the least bit of attention to the situation. What I don't know, sorry what I didn't know is whether I would be able to actually go through with it if the opportunity ever presented itself. The problem was obviously two fold, first I had no way whatsoever to know which guys were going to be interested at a party and even if I had I'm kinda picky. I mean if I settled for some average guy, which to me might as well be a fat chick, the only thing I would prove is that I have standards and it turns out I already knew that so I didn't need to confirm that.

So this is how it actually happened to me. Obviously all the names have been changed slightly to protect the innocent. The situation and looks are all similar enough that if you are one of my friends you'll be able to piece together who everybody is. Anyway I think it's time I described myself physically. I'm a little above average height at six foot even and I'm in pretty good shape, just a hair over two hundred pounds and most of it muscle but not nearly as defined as I would like to be. I'm African American and usually I keep my hair cut in a short fade, no side burns. I always keep my goatee and I go back and forth on whether or not I have a mustache. It really has more to do with if I'm feeling lazy or not than preference. I personally think that I look better with the mustache but it doesn't bother me to have it. Fashion wise I tend to stick to monochromatic outfits. Black is usually the choice. Considering I can tell you about the pleats in a skirt and I can't coordinate colors to save my life. So I just don't try. You could pretty much stumble into my closet blind folded and come out matching.

I think I've spent enough time nervously rambling about who am I am though and you'd probably like me to get to the meat of the story. So I'll indulge you and stop annoying you with these petty details that don't actually mean much to you. It was a a New Years Eve party that my friend was throwing, it was also a house warming party for my friend James who'd just moved out of his parents house and into the apartment with his wife. You know on a personal note, yes I know I'm rambling again it's hard to talk about what happened, I really hate that marriage. I don't hate her, I actually think that Cynthia is a great girl. It's just that the two of them are both young, both have a habit of screwing up their lives and putting the two of them together in charge of a budget. . .it's like putting a wolf and a pig together and hoping they save some for later. It just isn't gonna happen. They also aren't the kind of people who really like to work at things, so I'm expecting divorce papers to be filed sometime around the one year mark and that's gonna be because of pressure from the family.

I don't really know if this was a perfect party or just the perfect situation for me. I got to the party around nine and by that time half the people there were already drunk. Well not drunk, we really need a word that is beyond simply drunk. Drunk people slur their words and kinda lean when they walk. They don't puke grab lamps and puke into them thinking they are trash cans. You don't find drunk people asleep on the toilet. That is a few stages beyond drunk. I had obviously missed the first wave of the party, the only reason I really stuck around at that point was because I had no place else to go and I really didn't want anybody to die of alcohol poisoning. It turned out that wasn't going to be much of a problem, anybody who was going to die would probably have already tottered off because they didn't leave any for me.

Since I was basically on self imposed baby-sitter duty I did what all babysitters do. I started by ordering some Chinese because the pizza was all gone, then I made enough space for myself on the couch and settled in for a marathon. I was about then that I realized that I hadn't seen Cynthia or James. I checked the master bedroom. There were three couples sharing that bed but the married couple wasn't one of them. Next I checked the guest room and again came up empty. They weren't in either bathroom I already knew that. I finally found the couple on the back patio fucking like jack rabbits. James told me later he wished I'd interrupted them, he scraped his knees and her back pretty bad that night. When I got back to the couch he was sitting in my spot.

His name was David. Six foot three put him a little bit taller than me, shoulder length light brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. He had ice blue eyes and high cheek points that gave him a slightly gaunt face. He was clean shaven and sporting a sexy half smile as he stared at the screen. "You get over here right the fuck now!" He shouted. I was about to respond when I noticed the controller in his hand and the headset connected to it.

I walked over and sat down on the couch next to his feet. It was really the only free spot and picked up my carton of Sweet and Sour Pork and started to eat while he played Halo 3. He was good, the kind of good that has you in awe when you're on his team or watching and cursing about how he must have hacked the game if your on the other team. I should have been watching the screen. Instead I was noticing that his Italia loafers were so finely polished I could probably shave in them if I wanted. Another thing that I mnged to note was the fact that his socks didn't match, one was a dark green and the other a dark blue, easy enough to mistake if you weren't playing attention but as close as I was it was hard not to notice. He had smooth legs, I already wanted to run my hands along them but I resisted the urge and kept eating. His slacks bunched up slightly at the groin, just enough that I could make out the outline of his manhood on the edge of my vision. He was wearing a black button up shirt with a faint pattern in a different kind of black fabric but I don't remember what it was exactly. I remember that you could see his muscles twitching every time he got a little excited about the game.

I introduced myself and tried to strike up a conversation and he basically ignored me. He'd grunt or nod his head politely but that was about all of the reaction I could manage to get out of him as he continued to play through. I couldn't blame him, he was on a roll. It seemed very two seconds the game was flattering him again on his performance. If the game every told me that I was a sexy shoeless god of war I could probably ignore Jessica Alba stripping, and shove her out of the way. As soon as the round was over he handed me a controller and let me play.

Apparently having a controller in your hand is the most efficient way to get David to pay any attention to you. Once I started playing he just opened up starting to talk just about stuff. He was here as a favor to one of the girls, she'd told him she needed a ride home and he'd come to get her. She was part of that six ‘man' tag team match in the master bedroom. So he was basically just killing time at this point. We probably sat like that for ten minutes. I don't know if it was me or him, but neither of us were drunk so we couldn't blame the facts on the liquor. The fact was that I was leaning against his leg and my head was practically in his lap.

When I finally noticed I quickly pulled away and he lightly kicked me jocking that I had been keeping him warm. We bantered back and forth for a few minutes, I realize now that we were flirting, or he was flirting. I was just playing Halo and enjoying the fact that he was paying attention to me. It's kind of amazing how quickly you can be seduced when you don't realize that's what was happening. I don't have a clue what he said to me that made me let him lead me out to his SUV, I think he asked me to help him carry something in. Once we got to the SUV well there was no good reason to leave. His girl would call him if she needed anything so being in the house was basically the same as being in the house, only without the faint smell of sweat, sex and vomit.

He caught me completely off guard when he kissed me. Part of it is that I've never been kissed before, I've always been the aggressor. David gathered my shirt in his fist and yanked me against him kissing me deeply. It's not at all like kissing a woman. For starters he was stronger, there was a power where I was used to a softness. As soon as I realized what was going on I pulled away.

"So was it everything you'd hoped it would be?" David asked. Apparently I'd been putting out all sorts of vibes from the moment I'd walked into the room with him. The kiss wasn't quite what I'd expected, I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that. It wasn't what happened, but what I got was incredible. The second time I kissed him. I jammed my tongue into his mouth. Just like the first kiss it was a completely new experience. Every woman I've ever kissed instantly submitted. She leaned back, I was in control. With David it was like were equals, not fighting for control but simply sharing control.

While we kissed our clothing ended up littering the back seats of the car. "Suck my dick." No man had ever said that to me before and meant it. I didn't make a conscious decision to suck him off. I didn't have a choice, I had to do what he wanted. I had never really thought about what it meant to suck a cock. I never understood the combination of complete power and complete shame before. It was a cock, he pissed out of this thing and it was in my mouth. I did notice the power, I could bit him if I wanted. That isn't real power of a blow job though. The real power lies in the way a man moves. He gasps when you run your tongue around the tip of his cock. He whimpers when you tighten your lips around his cock bob your head slowly up and down on him. A man's hips twitch just a bit when you slurp and he moans when you pull away.

David was very vocal with what he liked and didn't like. Either that or he was faking it which isn't something I really want to think about at the moment. I nearly gagged myself a few times as I struggled to get him off. It's hard to describe what it's like to be on the receiving end of a cum shot to a man who's never experienced it. I got a mouthful of cum and even though it didn't surprise me I still choked when it splashed against the back of my throat. I swallowed it. One thing girls don't get to complain about is the taste of cum. It doesn't even really have a flavor, it's like when you snort a mouthful of mucus. It's slimy and warm and just a bit salty but it doesn't really have enough of a flavor to be disgusted by. It's bullshit to claim otherwise.

He'd just finished returning the favor when his cell phone rang. His girl was ready to leave, she was apparently upset that some of the guys had gotten her really drunk and taken advantage of her so he had to leave in a hurry.

I got a phone number out of it and I was lucky enough that the start of a new year was also the start of a new life for me. I knew for sure after that that I could be interested in a men.