Why I am a Bull Ch. 01 - The First Time

From the outside, I look like a bull. I'm good-looking, fit, guns like tree trunks, I dress well, I wear a sports watch and look after myself. I talk confidently and with authority, I interrupt people in mid-sentence, and if I take a woman out, the staff at the restaurant, club, or event know I'll turn up with another one next time.

I'm the kind of guy some people would call arrogant or an arsehole. But they're just jealous. They want my success and popularity, that's all. Women want me to fuck them as I'm handsome, fit, funny, and flirty. Men want to keep them away from me, except those fantasists who want me to fuck their wives, whether the wives know it or not.

But it's not how it looks. I take temp jobs - call centres, admin, stuff like that with breaks between jobs, so people think I'm rich enough to not work, or travelling abroad when I'm actually in a warehouse counting stock. I dress well by avoiding jeans, casual wear, and trainers - a cheap suit goes a long way with a nicely pressed shirt, and the watch is a fake. I don't go to the gym as it costs, but I have weights in my room. I don't have an expensive pad. In fact, I rent a room in a house with students in a second-rate suburb.

But I am handsome and confident, and I love taking things other people value.

I've never had a problem picking up women, for the reasons above. But I could never settle. I had a girlfriend once for around six months, but the patter wore off and I hated faking hard work and success. When I was younger, we all had nothing - we were kids after all - so my girlfriends didn't mind fucking behind a cinema or when their parents were away. But by my mid-20s, that wasn't cutting it, so I started to wonder how I could live the life of a Casanova without the hassle.

Around then, I was living in a room in a house that had been divided into two flats. The area was up and coming, and I knew I'd have to move on if the rent went up. A young couple moved into the flat below. They had careers - not just jobs. They paid a small fortune for the flat and went about hiring all kinds of tradesmen to do it up really nicely. They took advantage of all the local gentrification. Coffee shops where you'd pay £3 for artisanal milk and gastropubs with foreign chefs.

I didn't really have much to do with them, until one day I found a note under the door. It said, "Gabby and Dan invite you to their flat warming." I guess the work was over and they wanted to show off. Anyway, an evening of free food and drink appealed, so I happily turned up the following Saturday evening.

I knocked on the door, a guy answered - Dan, who I recognised from the few times we'd passed each other in the hall.

"You came! Hi - I didn't think you would since we've barely spoken in the six months we've been here."

He had a big, kind of fake smile. He held out his hand. I mentioned I'm kind of confident and flirty - I should have been more specific: that's with women because I want to be wanted. With men, I can't be bothered. They don't have anything I want. So simple politeness will do, unless they're acting like a dick, then put-downs get it over with quickly.

"Of course, it'd be rude not to." I smiled, walked past Dan into the flat, and finally turned to shake his hand. He seemed a little angry that I'd entered his home and only then acknowledged his welcome like I didn't give a shit about him. I guess it's because I didn't give a shit about him. He went to start a conversation or at least ask my name or whatever, but I just walked into the living room as he shut the door.

There were maybe twenty people in the flat - all couples as far as I could tell. Outwardly laughing and joking, but in reality comparing houses, salaries, plans. The women were all pretty well manicured - another thing through which the men were hoping to demonstrate their success. There were two areas where the couples had divided - men around the drinks, women around the food. I like a woman who enjoys her food. I think I subconsciously assumed they were driven by their baser instincts. I've yet to be disappointed in that respect.

Of course, I went to the gaggle of girls around the food. I picked up a plate a put a few items on it. A few minutes passed as I wondered why I'd come.

"Hi, you must be Damian."

"Who? No, my name's Steven. And you are?"

"Eva," she said. She had a slight accent. I'd guess at Eastern European, but it was quite subtle and I guessed she'd been in London a while. She was about to raise her hand to shake, but I went for air kisses. She giggled. I felt a slight flutter - I knew she was surprised, but she made no attempt to dodge it. She smelt fantastic.

"Oh, I'm sorry Steven. Gabby said she'd invited one of her clients who she said was 'a stunner'." She blushed involuntarily at her mistake. She wasn't flirting, she just assumed the 'stunner' called Damian was me.

"Don't worry about it." I laughed and gave her a big smile. "I've been mistaken for worse things. How do you know Dan and Gabby?" Of course, I didn't know them, and I cared less how she did, but if I was to enjoy their food and drink, I needed some entertainment.

"My boyfriend, Ian, works with Dan."

I spotted the mid-sized gem on her finger. I took her hand, touched it, and looked straight at her. "Looks like congratulations are in order." She withdraw her hand and glanced over my shoulder.

"Yes!" she continued, "and here's the man himself." Her fiancé was on the way over. I guessed it was time to refill my plate or get a drink.

"Hi Darling, who's this?" asked Ian

"This is Steven, he's..." she paused - she realised she'd not asked anything about me. She blushed a little for a second time. Her interest in me wasn't conversational, and it was becoming obvious to her. It'd been obvious to me since she first approached me. It always was. Of course, I was wasting my time. She wasn't going to be around long with a fiancé in tow and my room was a tip.

"I'm the neighbour upstairs," I helpfully said. No need to leave her dangling. Embarrassed or humiliated women don't want to fuck. Then I checked myself, I wasn't chatting her up - she was engaged.

Ian extended his hand. It was small, damp. His handshake was weak. I didn't like him, but then I don't usually like men as they don't have anything I want. A vision of Eva naked flashed through my mind.

He tried to start a conversation - work, friends, which university had I attended (I hadn't). I gave monosyllabic answers. He seemed disappointed - there was no competition to win. I wasn't playing.

I put my plate down. In turning sideways, he saw my arms through my shirt. He tried again, "Wow, you must spend ages in the gym."

Now I was getting pissed off. "I'd have thought you'd only have eyes for Eva."

Now it was his turn to blush. "Hey mate, I'm just trying to be friendly," he asserted. "There's no..."

"I mean, I would, she's 'a stunner'," I interrupted.

"I don't think you should make comments like that!" He was trying to be assertive, but the pitch of his voice was rising in a way that indicated he was intimidated.

"Why? Don't you think she's 'a stunner'?" Now he was demeaned. He'd failed to acknowledge Eva, and let me get the better of him in seconds. Here he was trying to demonstrate his alpha credentials - sexy girlfriend, work, approachableness - and I'd just told him he was acting like a dick. He backed down.

"No, no," he insisted, "I'm sorry I didn't mean comments like that. Of course, she is, I meant..."

"You meant she's too good for you. OK, apology accepted. I agree."

He exploded. He got in my face. "Enough. Fuck you. I was just being friendly, and you think..."

The room went silent. Dan and Gabby looked at me like, "Oh my God, is the neighbour a psycho?"

I took a small step forward, we were only inches apart, but I was easily 4-inches taller than him. I spoke softly, in a deep voice, "I'd never make that mistake if Eva was with me."

I looked at Dan and Gabby. We were meant to be admiring their flat, not taking away people's attention. I nodded in their direction and announced, "Sadly, we'll have to leave it there as I have an engagement this evening. Thanks for the invite," and I made for the door.

I left, and went upstairs and unbuttoned my shirt. Shame it was all so "coupley". I was a bit irritated that things has escalated so quickly. I just can't help myself with these men. They're just so fucking normal.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. And then a second time. I realised it was mine, and not Dan and Gabby's. I went down the stairs to open the door. Eva was there.

"I'm so sorry about that," she said, "we were having fun - Ian just acted like a kid. He does that sometimes." She glanced at my chest a couple of times. I returned the compliment.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Bad time - I'm not really receiving guests," I replied. The place was a tip. My room in particular. "If you want to talk, how about the garden?"

She smiled, "Sure."

We went outside and sat facing each other. She lifted her dress to reveal her very sheer underwear. She touched a small, moist patch that they confessed to.

"I'd like to make love with you." I found the phrasing odd, but alluring. Maybe it was because she'd learnt English that made her use that retro terminology.

"I don't think Ian would approve," I said in all honesty. I wanted her, but other than dismissing him, I wasn't interested in him.

"I think you've shown that's not important to you, but my feelings are. That's why you defended me." I didn't think I'd defended her, more like I was defending me.

While I was thinking about it, she came over and pressed her creamy white breasts against my face. She took my hand and placed it on the patch revealed by her underwear. I felt bad for the guy, but he had been a dickhead, and she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I led her further into the garden, bent her over the wooden garden table, took out my cock, and rubbed it on her knickers from behind. It quickly got hard. She looked round and her eyes widened. I'm blessed with 7-inches, which I know is a little more than average, but it's the girth that the girls have always liked. I pulled her knickers to rest just under her bum cheeks, licked my hand, and wetted her cunt. I needn't have bothered.

Despite the thickness, I was in, in only three or four strokes. Her hands tightened on the table. We were silent - this wasn't permitted, we mustn't be discovered.

She tried to slide forward. I guess the stretching was a bit uncomfortable. I put my hand on her shoulder to hold her in place and make it clear there was no going back now.

I could feel the point of no return approaching. There was a small noise behind us like a child gasping. I turned my head. Ian had come to look for Eva. She had no idea as I looked at him and pumped his fiancé. He stared at me, unable to move, unable to act. In the darkness I could see a small object in his hand - it looked like a pen or lipstick he was touching. It was his cock. So small I'd mistaken it for a finger.

I couldn't help myself. I thought he had nothing I wanted, but I was wrong I wanted Eva. As it approached, Eva tried to loosen my grip as my already thick cock swelled inside her. I came hard next to her cervix and stifled a cry. I pulled out and my hard cock swung like a pendulum. Ian was furiously yanking at what I guessed was his cock.

I was disappointed Eva hadn't come. I guess the discomfort of the girth had made it hard for her. She lifted herself up and perched on the edge of the table. She inserted two fingers deep inside herself and fetched out strings of my semen. She placed her hand on her clitoris and rubbed it in, reaching climax in no more than thirty seconds.

As she did so, she threw her head back and saw Ian, still furiously trying to pleasure himself. I was expecting a scream or a mumbled, "Oh my god," or something, but she looked straight at him, pulled her dress down, and walked over to him. She whispered something in his ear, and he tensed and then relaxed. They linked arms and returned to the party.

I was stunned. Yeah, he was a dick and she was much more generous with her sexuality than I was expecting, but this was new to me. That there are married, or almost married, women who screwed around I knew, but I'd avoided it as I didn't like the idea of sharing. But the fact there were husbands who were so weak to accept it - let alone get off on it - was news to me.

I went up to bed. Of course, there was no later appointment, I just wanted to be away from those people. Whatever the deal was with Ian and Eva, I'd assumed it was kind of weird and didn't want to pursue it - certainly not after I'd filled her up.

A few days later another note appeared under the door.

"Hi, Steve. I'd like to see you again. Eva," with a telephone number.

WTF? That was unexpected.

Suddenly, a whole new vista opened up for me. I could be a Casanova and have other men provide the means for it. While they were running the rat race, I'd be waiting at the finish line, celebrating in their place.