Below is a story concocted entirely from the author's imagination. No person, living or dead, should think the following is factual. When imagining the characters, the author imagined them all to be well over any legal ages of consent, regardless of jurisdiction. The author imagines that, though he has uploaded this story to Literotica, he retains his author's rights to the copy he wrote, and expects no one to distribute this story beyond Literotica.
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What do you think about when waiting for a strange man to come to your hotel room and fuck you for only the second time ever, 15 years after the first time you let a another stranger stretch your asshole painfully, before breeding you and bringing you to bliss?
Well, I don't know what you'd be thinking, but I thought about that first time [recounted in the previous story, Anticipation of Penetration 1] and, also, thought about the many things that could go wrong, such as him being a scammer or would-be blackmailer, or a flake, or having a disease he lied about. There was also robbery, or an unexpected third guy, or murder, to consider.
So, I was nervous, again.
The mind can spin like that, but I had taken as many precautions against those scenarios, and my recall of my first time, the time I lost my anal virginity, had my 6 inch, cut cock chubbed up. I gave it a slow stroke and it swelled a bit more. I looked down at it, the purplish, spongy head sticking out past my hand gripping the shaft. At the other end, the heel of my hand pressed lightly against my pubic bone and my bushy pubic hair.
I have all my pubic hair, by the way.
Now, a 6 inch cock, in pornography, is a smallish cock, but, in the real world, in my experience, it's a fine size. It's actually very slightly above average. Slightly more than half are smaller.
The man I was waiting for, supposedly, had a 7 inch cock, of average girth. I hadn't seen his face picture, but he assured me he wasn't repulsive. He said he was 5'11", the same as me, and that he weighed about 200 lbs, about 20 pounds more than me.
His body picture showed that he was a bit thicker than I am, and had some brown fur on his chest, a nice trail to adventure, a nice bush and nice sized fuzzy testicles, that hung low in the picture, apparently taken in his bathroom after a shower. His cock was fluffed up nicely, his cockhead flared along the ridge. It was thicker than slim and smaller than "girthy." A respectable piece of meat.
My mouth watered a bit at the memory of the photo and the anticipation of seeing it up close and personal.
He hadn't seen my face picture, either. I don't share face pictures on the internet, so I don't require them. It's only fair and responsible. I had sent him a flattering picture of my cock and balls, and one that showed him that I'm in decent shape.
We had hooked up on a free gay hookup app, not Grindr [I hate that app] after I saw his profile and had messaged him. He said he wanted to find a guy around his age and size to get naked with and see where it led us. He indicated he liked to kiss.
"Your profile sounds great, just what I'm looking for," I wrote in my message. "And your cock looks tasty."
"Thanks, same here. Your cock looks delicious, and your ass is making my cock throb," he replied.
"I'm not really a bottom," I wrote back. "I've only been fucked once, 15 years ago. I'm not sure I'm ready to do it again."
"No pressure," he replied, "Except you have to be cool with kissing. I love to make out."
He sent me an instant message with a photo of his cock at full hardness, a drop of precum, gathered at the tip.
I have a weakness: I see a cock, and I want to suck the cock.
My mouth watered, and my cock twitched a little harder, and pulsed to full hardness. I was nude, sitting in a swiveling office chair with my hips forward and my cock and balls hanging loose between my thighs. I scooted forward a bit more, and took a selfie from between my legs below and back at my low hanging balls and swelling cock. Before I snapped it, I pulled my ass cheeks apart, so the picture included a glimpse of my clean, pinkish asshole.
I sent it to him, with the text "We need to meet."
Usually, that's when things grind to a halt, but this time I happened to have access to a hotel room for two nights and a day in a town 30 miles from each of our indicated locations.
I told him and he agreed to meet me there, here, in about 10 minutes or so.
It's a nice hotel room, downtown in the urban center of our mutual greater metropolitan area. I had checked in at 4 p.m., had a drink in the glitzy bar to loosen up a bit, and gone up to the room to prepare myself for whatever might happen.
We'd probably just make out for a bit, then swap sucks until we cum, then he'll leave hurriedly, I thought, but I'd better be ready for whatever.
Before I got into the shower, I started on the most intimate part of my preparation for our sex session. The fact that I had brought a clean out kit testified to my true objective for the night. "He might want to finger me" I thought, dodging the real, underlying desire for something longer, harder and thicker than his fingers.
So, I used the mineral oil and water enema bottle I'd brought in my bag of tricks. The results indicated more was needed. I had only brought the one bottle, so I refilled it at the sink with plain lukewarm water, cleaning the nozzle a little, and repeated and rinsed, and again, and again until I was as clean as a whistle inside, for several hours, at least.
Then I showered and shaved my face as smooth as I could get it so. I thought about my chin sliding between his ass cheeks, while my tongue searched for his hairy hole. I didn't want any stubble to irritate him while I rimmed his hole.
That thought kept my cock chubby. I stroked it once or twice, but stopped before I got too into it. I wanted to save all my desire and tension for when we were in bed stroking each other's meaty rods, and sucking each others' tongues and cocks.
After I soaped up and made sure I was clean from head to toe, I stepped out and dried myself in the quick manner I'd learned in high school P.E. showers, and pulled on some loose gym shorts and nothing else.
And now here I was, waiting a few more minutes for the knock at the door that meant I'd have the rock hard cock of another man inside my body in a few minutes. My cock throbbed again at that thought, and strained against the thin fabric of the shorts to straighten up. I sort of enjoyed the feeling of it bent and pent up.
I got a beer out of the cooler, popped it open and took a long drink. The earlier cocktail in the hotel bar had done its job relaxing me a bit, but my mouth was dry with tension, anyway, and a cold beer was a comfort.
