Author's note:
I didn't ever think that my first story would be received so well, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you all! Since I'm going off memory alone, and I've vowed to keep the story as true to actual events as possible, it may take longer than some would like for subsequent chapters to be published. I'm not a professional writer; I work two jobs and most of the first drafts are written on my phone in my downtime. Patience is a virtue, and I hope that the rest of the story (I saw Ryan for a few months) is a suitable reward. I currently have an outline for 10+ chapters, with more easily possible.
Now, some have asked for a little more context:
I was 19, Ryan was 25 or 26 at the time. I'm 6'0, he was only an inch or an inch and a half taller than me, but when we were together, he had a way of making me feel smaller. We had similar builds - broad shoulders, small waists, and both in good shape. I still had some baby fat but was working out regularly. He was much more toned, not a muscle-head but you could tell he took care of his body. He had chestnut brown hair that he kept short, a devilish smirk that I've mentioned enough times already, and penetrating light blue eyes. He was 100% gay, had never been with a woman, and told me he had no interest in it when my naïve curious self asked. If I had met him organically, I never would have guessed that he wasn't straight, and that's a big part of what attracted me to him. At the time, I still struggled with a slight homophobia, probably due to my own deep-seated shame and curiosity, and so I probably never would have pulled the trigger if he had been more flamboyant. Just being honest to my feelings at the time.
I'll continue to sprinkle in context as needed.
****
Hearing me step out of the washroom, Ryan poked his head out of the kitchen. "Hey, I forgot to ask what you wanted to drink - I've pretty much got anything to be honest."
"Uhh..." I thought out loud as I walked towards him. "Just a vodka water if you have it."
His face took on a look of disappointment. "Awe damn, I'm fresh out of water! Just straight vodka for you I'm sorry to say!" he laughed, his head disappearing back around the corner. "Although...maybe not so straight anymore, hey?" he added, chuckling at his own joke.
I blushed but couldn't help but smile a little as I leaned against the wide kitchen archway. "You just want me drunk I think."
"Nah man, I was just teasing. I just want you to relax a little, and a few stiff drinks will help take the edge off" he said, reaching into the freezer to grab some ice.
My eyes took him all in, inevitably landing on his naked backside where I could watch that heavy, cum-filled sack dangle between his legs as he generously free-poured the vodka.
I guess not quite so full of cum anymore though, I mused to myself, already replaying in my mind the epic facial I had just received.
Turning towards me with drinks in hand, his now-soft yet oh-so manly uncut cock swung into view, and I stood there mesmerized watching it sway and bounce towards me.
He cleared his throat, breaking the spell, and my eyes quickly lifted to meet his gaze.
"Sorry" I mumbled sheepishly, my face feeling hot.
"I don't mind if you stare, but you're kinda blocking the doorway!" he laughed warm heartedly. I turned to let him by and had to refrain myself from reaching out and taking him into my hand.
Damnit Ben, focus! You're acting like a starving dog with a new favourite bone!
Shaking my head, I followed Ryan back to the large sectional couch. I was amazed at how comfortable he was walking around naked in front of me. Even as fit as I was myself, I had never possessed the level of self-confidence that would allow me to stroll about in my birthday suit in front of anyone, and I told him so.
He set our glasses down onto a couple of coasters that were on the coffee table, then unceremoniously flopped back into the corner of the couch.
"Eh, I've always been sort of a nudist; as a kid I thought it was hilarious to go streaking and yelling through the house." He leaned forward for his drink, then took a long swig. "Suffice it to say, my folks didn't bring me to the neighbours' very often, ha! But yeah, my family was really open growing up, and there was never any shaming or judgement, so that's probably why I feel so comfortable like this" he said, gesturing with his glass at his nakedness.
Picking up my glass, I tipped it back and drank nearly half of it before sitting down conspicuously far away from him on the edge of the couch. He was making me feel as comfortable as possible, but I was still too shy to act normally.
He smiled knowingly; my awkwardness was far too obvious to escape notice. I could feel him staring at me, and I did my best to look everywhere but directly at him, painfully aware of his casually exposed manhood.
The silence stretched between us until he finally broke it with a laugh.
"Okay, okay fine! I'll stop torturing you and put some pants on" he grinned boyishly at me and made to stand up.
"No!" I blurted out far too quickly, my eyes snapping to his cock instinctively. "I mean...no, it's okay. I-I just don't know what to say or how to act. It's just a lot to take in, you know?" I downed the rest of my drink, then set it back on the table.
"But you took it ALL in like a champ," he winked, causing me to groan and bury my face in my palms at his relentless teasing.
I felt him stand up and move towards me then, stopping when his shin bumped mine. A strong hand found my wrist, gently yet firmly pulling it away from my face. I looked up, getting an eyeful of deliciously dangling dick.
"Remember what I said before? Relax, we don't have to do anything more tonight, and you definitely shouldn't feel embarrassed about earlier" he said calmly, still holding my wrist. "I'll understand if you're having second thoughts now; I don't want you to feel any pressure whatsoever here."
In truth, the quickly dwindling straight side of me did feel dirty and ashamed, but it was monumentally overshadowed by a growing desire for more, coupled with the simple fact that my nineteen-year-old body didn't have enough blood coursing through it to support contemplative thought while simultaneously maintaining my now constant erection.
I cleared my throat, glancing up at his crotch. "It's not that I don't want more, because honestly I do, and badly" I told him, my voice shaking. "But I just...I don't know" I finished lamely.
There was a moment of stillness before I felt him pull on my wrist, and I watched as he guided my hand to rest against his soft cock. An electric shock ran through me at the contact and my fingers tentatively opened to wrap themselves around him.
It felt so fucking good in my hand - warm, soft, and so much bigger than what I was used to working with. It wasn't that my own dick was inadequate by any means, it was just that his was so goddamned impressive, and at least twice as thick. He should have been in porn.
