Meet in the Library: My First Time

A short one-off story about my first male-male encounter. All characters are over 18.

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I've always had some sense of my bisexuality, but I couldn't say when I first began to fantasize about being with another man. It was probably at the same time when most of us tend to begin playing outside of our zone of personal experiences in all kinds of ways -- in college. I had kissed a few guys -- once in high school and a few times in college -- but these happened in a more joking way with my other friends in the punk rock crowd as kind of an audacious, boundary-pushing, obnoxious way to freak out homophobes and narrow-minded people at parties. More trolling than anything else. None of those experiences had done anything for me.

Even when I did begin to find myself fantasizing about men, these machinations didn't really involve kissing. If anything, the thought of kissing another guy grossed me out for a long time -- it was too intimate, too mushy. No, my early fantasies about the same sex were purely animal and erotic, focusing on a desire to serve as a giver of pleasure to a male.

I'd close my eyes while jerking off in the shower and imagine an anonymous guy stepping into the steam with me. I would lather up his body and feel his cock harden in my hand while his hands explored my body in response. Eventually, my fantasy evolved. I thought about getting on my knees in front of this stranger and licking his hard cock, plunging it into my mouth and tasting his cum as it pulsed onto my tongue. When I'd cum, I'd lick my own pearly saltiness from my hand and wonder if it was what another man's would taste like.

I was in my early-20s when I finally decided to find out. I was 23, and it was my first year out of college. I'd gotten a job working in a library at a very famous, very historic university. My work involved spending large portions of my day in the stacks, tracking down books and research materials, and within a few months I'd gotten to know the cavernous, labyrinth-like building very intimately. On my breaks, I'd go off and re-visit those dark, tucked away corners and nooks that I'd discovered, and fantasize about rendezvousing with someone there. Sometimes that someone in my daydreams would be female, sometimes male.

As I gave more thought to seriously exploring the possibility of being with a man, I came up with some ground rules for myself. It would have to be anonymous, or close to it. I didn't want to hook up with anyone I was friends with or would run into around town on a regular basis. I was still uncertain at this time about my sexual fluidity, and I didn't want to make anything known to my own social circle. My next rule, I didn't want it to be at my apartment. If I had someone over and lost my nerve, I didn't want to have to deal with any small talk or awkwardness as I tried to get them out of my home. Not to mention, meeting anonymous strangers could be dangerous, so best not to invite anyone into my bedroom, yet.

I spent some time searching the internet for any message board posts or Craigslist posts (yes, that's how long ago this was) about gay hookup spots in my city. There was a park that was mentioned, where guys would engage in anonymous hookups in a particular spot in the woods. So, I altered the course of my daily running route so as to cut through this park. I noticed plenty of guys coming and going, but they were all older, sad-looking men. I next stopped by a few restrooms on campus that I'd heard about, but these were all too public with a high risk of getting caught.

That's when the idea really crystalized in my mind: the library. If I could arrange an encounter in one of the secret hiding places I'd found on my journeys around the book stacks, that would be the perfect place. The only issue was that it limited my potential partners to students, faculty, or university staff, as anyone wanting to enter the library would need an ID. But, I figured, maybe that was a good thing. I was young, inexperienced, and nervous. Maybe the ideal partner would be in a similar position.

I created a M4M Casual Encounters post on Craiglist: 'Anyone ever hookup in the library stacks?' And waited.

I got a barrage of responses on that first day. Most of them were ineligible as they weren't students or the like. Some that were students started out with promise. We traded some fantasies and scenarios back and forth, but they went dark when I asked to exchange pictures of our bodies with no face. But a few of them did send pictures.

The excitement I felt when receiving and seeing those photos were how I knew that this had to happen. I'd open an email from someone I'd been chatting back and forth with, and be presented with a closeup shot of a long, veiny white cock with a bulbous head. Or, I thick, snake-like black prick thrusting up at the camera. I salivated over these photos, I'd stroke myself and imagine how any of them would feel in my hand, or taste in my mouth. However, when I tried to arrange a meeting, they all flaked out one-by-one.

It went on like this for a few days, the number of responses diminishing with each passing day. Then, almost two weeks later, I got an email from a senior named 'S.'

"Sounds hot." His email read. "I've always wondered about that place myself. Do you know of anywhere to meet?"

I replied back that I did, and that I've been wanting to go down on a guy somewhere in the library for a while. I knew the perfect place, down a dark aisle in an un-used wing of the library, where I could be waiting on my knees for him to come find me.

He replied back with a picture of his cock. It was similar to the half dozen other photos I'd received, but something about it was different. It may have just been that this one felt right. It wasn't as large as some of the others, about 6", but it was an otherwise perfectly sculpted white cock with a beautifully chiseled circumcized head. At the tip of his urethra lips was a little, glistening drop of pre-cum.

I had to have it. I needed to feel it, savor it in my mouth, lick the length of it, and swallow everything I could wring from it. I told him so.

"Have you ever done this before?" He asked.

"No." I replied back in honesty.

"Me either." He said.

We arranged our meeting for a Friday. The library was quietest on Friday afternoons, with most students done with any studying and getting into their weekends. I described how to get to the secluded spot I had in mind, and told him I would be there at 3:15pm.

At 3:05, I took my afternoon break and made my way up into the remote wing, which was through a door located down at the end of a narrow aisle tucked along the side of the building. I stepped through the door into the main aisle of the wing and listened. One good thing about this cavernous space was how well sound traveled, we would hear anyone approaching with more than enough time to escape. But just then it was silent, all clear.

The exact spot was at the very end of the wing, around the back of the last bookshelf, where there was a narrow, dark alcove, almost pitch black, where a couple boxes were stored. As I made my way towards it, I felt as if my heart might beat a hole through my chest. I'd been nervous all day, my heart racing as the hours ticked by towards our agreed time. Just before I came around the end of the shelf to the alcove, I panicked.

I can't do this, I thought, my skin going numb with anxiety. I paced a few times up and down the aisle, taking deep breaths. Finally, I forced myself forward, tucking into the alcove and getting down on my knees to face him as he would come me. I settled myself with a few deep breaths as I waited and listened for the sound of approaching footsteps. But...nothing came.

I checked my phone: 3:20. I opened my email to find an unread message from him.

"Are you nervous?" He had written.

"Yes." I said. "Are you coming?"

I waited for his reply, but nothing came. At 3:27 I got up off my knees and headed for the door. Just as I was about reach for the door handle, it burst open and I stepped back so it wouldn't hit me in the face. I looked up and found myself face-to-face with a young guy -- whom I knew from our exchanges to be 21 -- a little taller than me, fit, with shaggy brown hair. Immediately knowing it was him, I looked down as he came through through the door past me and I quickly walked out of the wing.

I wove my way through the aisle to the exit stair and ran down two flights then stopped. What was I doing? I thought. I wanted this. I still wanted this. Why was I being such a wuss? I hadn't expected to see him, that was awkward. I'd wanted it all to be in the dark, anonymous. I didn't want to see his face or know that he had shaggy brown hair, or that he was thin and fit, or that he would be wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

But, now that I did know that, I actually thought about how perfect he was. He was just like me, young and nervous. He was good looking, and didn't smell bad when I walked past him. I thought again of his cock in the picture. About slipping my hand into his blue jeans and feeling it grow hard for me. I opened my phone and checked my email.

"Was that you just now?" He'd written.

"Yes." I sent. "Sorry, I freaked out."

"I'm scared too." He replied. "I found the place, though, and you were right it's perfect."

At reading this, I felt my heart begin flutter and my cock begin to tingle. I imagined him standing there in that alcove waiting for me.

"Are you still there?" I wrote.

"Yes." He pinged back. "You coming?"

"Wait right there." I sent, and headed back up the stairs.

When I got through the wing and almost down to the end of the last aisle, I stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. This is it, I thought, I'm going to suck this person's cock. I'm going to pleasure him. I'm going to taste him. This thought didn't make me nervous, like I'd been before, it thrilled me. I felt my own prick pulse in my khakis, and before I rounded the end of the bookshelf to the alcove, I unzipped my fly in case I wanted access later.

When I rounded into the alcove, I saw his shadowy form standing there facing me, waiting. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the face, so I just kept my eyes on his crotch as I stepped up close to him and lowered myself onto my knees at his feet.

I could tell he was trembling with nerves, so I put my hands on his thighs and rubbed them up and down softly, reassuringly. After I warmed my hands against his legs, I ran them up his thighs and brought them together on his crotch, where I felt a slight bulge through his denim.

He let out a sigh at my touch, as if relieved. With one hand, I continued to massage his bulge through his jeans, finding the outline of his cock taking shape and stroking it. With my free hand, I reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up. He grabbed it and pulled it up over his stomach, exposing his abs. I glanced up to his belly button, seeing that it was surrounded by a short forest of dark curly hair, that ran down his stomach and disappeared under the spandex waistband of his underwear.

I reached for the button of his jeans, pulling it loose and spreading it apart. He found his zipper and pulled it down until his jeans were loosened. He eagerly slipped his thumbs under the waist of his jeans and pushed them down to help me as I pulled on them.

As they slid down off his hips, I caught sight of his bulge through his gray boxer briefs. I lowered his jeans down just below his knees, and ran my hands up his hairy, muscular upper thighs. When I came back up to address his bulge, I was taken aback as he hooked his thumbs under his waistband and began to pull his boxer briefs down.

He got as far as exposing his dark pubic hair before I stopped him.

"No." I whispered, and put my hands on his to stop him.

"Sorry." He said, and I could tell this made him nervous again.

I steadied his nerves similarly to how I had before, again caressing his bare thighs. As I ran my hands up, I pushed my fingertips under the legs of his boxers and ran my hand up to his crotch.

I will never forget the sound of his breath catching in his throat when I first touched his half-erect cock. It brought me to life, turning me on more than I think I'd ever been turned on before. I squeezed my own thighs together, sending a rush of pleasure through my own stiffened cock in my pants.

I gently fondled him for a few moments under his boxer briefs, then retrieved my hands and pulled his underwear down to his knees, meeting his prick face-to-face as the waistband slid over it and it bobbed up toward me.

The first thing that really hit me was the smell. It wasn't bad, but also not like anything I'd really smelled before -- another man's musk. I leaned into close to his half-chub and smelled his earthy saltiness, then breathed a long, warm breath over his cock and balls. I wasn't sure why I did this, but I thought it would feel good for him. And, I'm assuming by the sighing moan he let out that it did.

I took his slowly growing firmness into my hand and stroked him tenderly, feeling it pulse lightly with warmth as it came to life. I lifted his head to face me as I lightly gripped his semi-arousal in my fingers and palm, coaxingly stroking him to full life.

Unable to wait any longer, I lifted his cock to point straight upwards and leaned in. I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and greeted him with a long, slow, wet lick from the base of him up the underside of his shaft and to his tip.

"Oh, wow." He said in a gasping whisper. "That felt good."

"Mmm" I said, savoring the salty taste of him on my tongue, and immediately doing it again.

I licked him base to tip several times, first coating the bottom of his shaft, then along the sides, covering him in my saliva. My eyes having adjusted to the darkness, I could see my spit glisten along him as I slid my hand slickly along his expanding length.

Finally, on my next lick, I circled my tongue around his helmeted tip, explored the spongy feeling of his cock head and savored the delicate saltiness of his pre-cum, and sunk him into my mouth.

I couldn't believe it, sucking my first cock. I also couldn't believe how turned on I was. As I ran him through my lips and over my tongue, I sent my free hand into my open fly and found my rock hardness through the hole in my boxers. With some wiggling and bending, I managed to get myself out through my fly and I slowly stroked myself as I sucked him.

"Fuck yea." He moaned breathlessly as I sank him into my face.

As he wasn't yet fully hard, I was able to take his entire length at that moment, but that was quickly changing as I sucked him long and slow. Perhaps the hottest thing about it right then was that could feel him getting hard in my mouth. As I ran my lips up and down his shaft, over the rim of his head, and back down, I could actually feel the veins pulsing in his shaft as it expanded and firmed in the cavern of my mouth.

After sucking him for a minute, he was hard as a rock in my mouth and I was only able to take a little over half of him before I felt his tip slip into my throat. I kept him in my mouth as I gagged, trying not to make it obvious.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and I could feel him looking down at me.

I looked up at him, and for the the first time made eye contact with the guy whose cock was in my mouth. I slipped him from my lips with a suckling pop.

"I'm better than alright." I said softly and admired my handiwork as I slowly stroked his perfectly shaped hardness, slicked with my own spittle.

I lifted his cock to point it skyward again, allowing me to lean in and lick his balls. I liked that he'd trimmed his pubic hair before coming to meet me. In his photo, I could see that he had a bit of a bush, but now he only had a shortened, dark patch at the base of his cock and his balls were shaved. I stroked myself faster as I ran my tongue around his nuts, tasting their funk, and thought about how he'd wanted to be sexy for me.

As my own cock throbbed in my hand, I knew I wouldn't last much longer, and I needed him in my mouth again. I needed to make him cum. With a new purpose, I again licked the length of him, feeling the edge of his beautiful cock head on my tongue before opening wide and pushing him in along my tongue.

I worked him up and down with my lips at a steady pace, trying to suction tightly around him without touching him with my teeth. As I blew him, I traced the underside of his rock hard shaft with my tongue, and practiced flicking his head a few times.

"Fuck." He gasped and I felt his hand settle gently onto the back of my head, not pushing me down on him but guiding me to his rhythm. "You're going to make me cum."

It was all I needed to hear. Those words specifically: YOU are going to make me cum. I don't know why, exactly, but I knew I'd stumbled upon a new obsession. I loved to please his cock. I picked up my pace, both with my mouth on his cock and my hand on my own hardness.

"Yes!" He moaned in a whisper as I bobbed up and down like a good little cocksucker on him, his fingers digging into my scalp as he came closer to the precipice. "Do you want it?"

"Mmhmm" I moaned around his cock as I sucked him fast and intently. I wanted it desperately.

Inside my mouth was a new world of sensations. I felt drips of his hot, salty pre-cum drizzle out onto my tongue, lubing my mouth. As his breathing increased, he gently thrust his hips, not so much forcing his cock into my face as guiding himself to the finish. As he neared the edge, I could feel his begin cock throb in my mouth, swelling even larger and harder than it had already. Finally, I felt his head get hot against my tongue, swelling tightly until finally it beat like a heart and he gushed his heat into my mouth.

"Ohhhh." He moaned, a little too loud for a secret rendezvous, and seized as I continued to work him. "Oh my god!"

I held my lips firm around his shaft as I used my hand to stroke his beating shaft into my mouth. His cum flooded my mouth in a hot, salty, pearly gush. I tried to collect it as best as I could without gagging, pausing to swallow the initial thick load of it, feeling its sticky trail down my throat. As he pulsed down to a finish, I eagerly stroked his final spurts from his cock head and collected them on my tongue. I tasted it, savored it, before feeling it go down.

I continued to suck his fading hardness gently as I stroked myself. The feeling of his salty, sticky heat in my mouth had brought me to the edge, and I worked myself furiously as I felt a heat well up in my balls and ache to burst out.

"Oh, yea." He moaned as he watched me savor the final notes of his cock and stroke my own. "Do it."

As if on his command, I finally felt myself erupt, nearly loosing control of my body as I writhed against the severe pleasure as I came all over the floor at his feet.

"Oh, fuck." I moaned as slipped his now soft cock from my mouth and looked down to watch as I stroked the final seeds of my orgasm out. "That felt so good."

"That was so hot." He whispered.

Without another word, I tucked myself back into my pants and zipped up. Then looked one last time at his soft, sticky, satisfied cock hanging in front of me. As if to say farewell, I leaned in once more and placed a soft kiss against his soft shaft.

For a moment, I wondered if he had another in him right away. What if I just took him back in my mouth and did it all over? But instead I took his boxer briefs and slid them back up his legs as he tucked him self inside. Then I did the same with his jeans and watched as he re-zipped and fastened his button, then slid his shirt down his stomach.

Saying nothing, he stepped past me and left the alcove. I listened to the fading sound of his footsteps, punctuated by the sound of the door opening and closing to the wing. I took at deep breath and looked down at the ropes of my cum on the floor. I'll leave that there, I thought, as a memento that we were here.