As I drove us back to my room I scanned my memory for any time I could recall being someone's first experience. I was drawing a blank.
As many encounters as I'd had in nearly thirty years I was sure I must have been. I guess they handled themselves well enough to hide that knowledge from me.
I started putting myself in Mike's shoes to formulate an approach that would let him experience the thrill of his first acts of male intimacy without overwhelming him. It had been a long time ago.
"You're awfully quiet," he nervously spoke.
"I'm sorry, Mike," I said with a smile, "I'm fine. I just suddenly feel a little weight of responsibility."
"What do you mean?" he asked
"Well, I was trying to recall a time I could remember being somebody's first...I can't come up with one," I confessed, "So I was running through my memories of mine."
"I trust you completely, Mr. Adams...Matt," he said.
The calmness in his voice was betrayed by how tightly his hands were clutched together in his lap.
"I'm glad. That makes me feel better," I said.
I patted his thigh to put him at ease.
He laid a hand on top of mine and studied the differences between them. After a minute he ran his up onto my forearm and gave it a squeeze.
"Your arms are so big and muscley," he quietly observed.
I chuckled at the childlike descriptor 'muscley' in place of 'muscular'. It was the second time I'd heard it from him that night.
It gave me insight into exactly how young this young adult was that I would be introducing to the brave new world of man sex he so desperately wanted admittance to.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked as he stroked my arm.
"Not at all," I assured him, "and thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied with a smile.
As the Stonehill came into view I settled on simply allowing him to explore me to ease him into it. My first encounter had been with a man who was both older and larger than me, not to mention vastly more experienced.
I was a good bit older than Mike, being thirty three or four at the time. It was everything I'd been waiting for my entire life, and yet I was just as scared as he no doubt was as the reality of it began to unfold.
The gentleman clearly picked up on me. I remembered how, after his initial flurry of aggressive kisses, I just wanted to feel and assess and appreciate the bigness, for lack of a better word, of him.
I was not nearly so small in comparison as Mike was to me, but once our clothes were off he still settled back and allowed me to satisfy my curiosity. He gave me time to indulge my fascination with his body and draw myself out of my shell before asserting himself with me any further.
It seemed like a good model and I began to feel more confident that I could do this for Mike. I pulled in and turned the car off.
"Shall we go up to my office?" I asked with a wink.
"Yes, sir," he said putting on his brave face.
I led us upstairs and unlocked my door, then ushered him inside. He was understandably nervous.
I opened my arms and invited him in for another hug. He nearly squeezed the breath out of me.
"You smell like a man," he sighed as he pressed his cheek to my shoulder.
"You, too," I said.
He broke from our hug and smiled as he stared into my eyes. He had clearly liked me referring to him as a man.
My confidence rose and we kicked off our shoes.
"Let's sit down," I suggested, indicating the sofa.
He sat first and stared up at me. I moved the coffee table out of the way so we'd be able to stretch our legs out.
Pulling my shirttail out, I sat beside him.
He didn't look as nervous as before, but he did still seem uncertain about what to do next. I leaned back and stretched my right arm out behind him on the sofa.
"I'm all yours tonight," I told him, "We'll do anything you like. Don't feel you have to rush. The pace is yours to set."
He studied our size differential.
"I want to feel your belly again...I mean...not through the shirt this time?" he said.
I smiled and lifted my shirttail for him.
He slipped his hand up under it and set off on his journey of discovery. The warmth of his hand felt good as he caressed it.
"It's warm, and the hair's so soft. It feels good," he said, looking up at me as he worked his fingers into it.
"Thank you," I said, "Your hand feels nice, too."
He got a little bolder and I felt it search on up to my left pec for my nipple.
He found it and traced his finger around its perimeter. It began to dimple from his tentative manipulation and my cock stirred.
"They're big," he observed, "May I see?"
I slid my arm off the sofa and onto his back.
"It's as easy as unbuttoning my shirt," I told him.
He slid his hand out from under it and sat up sporting a big smile. He started with the top button and worked his way down.
When he brought the patch of chest hair at the nexus of my pecs and belly into view he stopped and sunk his fingers into it. I heard his breath catch as he got ever closer to fulfilling his desire.
"It's handsome...sexy," he sighed
"Thank you," I said as I gently ran my hand up and down his back.
Once he'd satisfied his curiosity about that he resumed undoing the buttons that still hid my belly.
When he finished he spread my unbuttoned shirt for his first unobstructed view of my torso. His eyes fairly popped out of their sockets.
He looked at me as if asking permission. I smiled and nodded. He reached out with both hands and ran them over my ball-shaped gut, giggling at his freedom of access to it.
"It's so...perfect!" he exclaimed.
He then stared back and forth at my nipples. Very slowly his right hand crept up onto my left pec and he took the erect nub between his thumb and the first knuckle of his index finger.
He broke into a grin as he savored the tactile treat. I chuckled at his innocent curiosity. He blushed.
"They're dark...like Dad's...maybe even bigger," he observed.
He continued playing his fingers over it, looking as though he had something to add.
"What's on your mind, Mike?" I asked, unable to read him.
After some silence he confessed, "I want to taste them."
"Like I said, all yours...all evening," I reminded him.
