My First TimebyJohn1111©
This story is a true account of my first gay experience. I'm not making any of it up, and I'm not exaggerating any part of it; what you get is how it happened, even though I could probably make it a little more erotic.
It was last Thanksgiving Day. I was driving home from supper at my parents' place, and I stopped off at the porn store. I got a few (straight) magazines and headed home. As I flipped through the softcore-couples porn, where the woman holds the cock up to her lips, or her pussy, but never touches, I noticed I was paying more attention to the cocks. I'd been doing this the last few times, but usually later in the evening, after the bars were closed. Not this time.
After stopping in the washroom to shave, brush my teeth, and thoughtfully clean out my butt crack, I checked the phone book for the addresses of gay clubs. My city has three main gay clubs: the Roost, a popular dance club for gays, lesbians, and their straight friends (I ruled this one out because there was too much of a chance of running into someone I know), Boots & Saddle, a cowboy bar, and Buddy's, a basement bar in an area I was familiar with. I decided to go to the latter.
After a short drive across the bridge I'd driven over so many times, I found myself at the top of the stairs leading down into the club. I'd been there before it was a gay club, before there was that huge rainbow flag hanging from the ceiling.
Down the stairs, the club was moderately dead. The bartender was a big, gay looking guy I didn't find that attractive. Out of habit, I walked nervously over. "Hi?" I said in an uncharacteristically ditzy voice. "What are your drink specials?"
I felt like a slut. I also had to go to the bathroom. I asked a beefy guy who looked like a security guard where the washroom was, and went in.
When I came out, I decided to check out the other patrons. There were some cute guys playing pool, but I figured they'd ignore me. Correctly.
I went and sat in a corner table away from everyone else and took out a to-do list, just so I'd have something to do with my hands.
The fat, ugly guy in his late thirties seemed to be slowly easing his way over to me. I waited patiently until he came close enough to put his drink on my table. "Hello," he smiled.
I had trouble smiling back--he was very unattractive--but I introduced myself. He told me his name, which I later forgot. We made polite conversation, but didn't get very far. I noticed a big bulge in his track pants, as if he wasn't wearing any underwear and was sporting a sizeable erection.
"I'm guessing by the size of this that we're both here for the same thing." I tapped him on the tip of his prick. It was already wet with precum, even through his track pants. And it was very wet. The entire area around his crotch was wet with a sweet-smelling ooze.
He took my inviting comment as an opportunity to sit right up next to me--this butt-ugly guy, feeling me up with his meaty hands as he made out the shape of my cock through my pants. It felt weird, but not for the reason I was expecting.
The conversation turned to what I'd call shop talk: about our cocks. He asked me if I had a big cock; I told him I thought so. He asked me if I was circumcised, and I said yes. He told me he wasn't.
He stood up and put his back to the hot guys playing pool, so nobody could see what he was doing. He lifted his cock out over the elastic on the track pants. It was the width of a beer bottle. I didn't think it was possible to get a prick so huge on a human being. Later on, I felt a little jealous, but at the time, I was bursting with the thought of having a cock this size to play with. I didn't even know if I could fit the whole thing in my mouth; certainly not in my ass. I wrapped my hand around it, and my fingers couldn't touch my thumb.
I told him I wanted to get out of there and do some wild things with him, but he suggested we have another beer. We sat there another 15 minutes, getting closer as he stroked my now insignificant cock through my pants.
When we left, we took separate cars back to my place (he told me he was in town on business). As we drove, I considered the notion that I could probably lose him if I tried. I didn't, and when we got to my place, I took him up into my apartment.
He immediately went to the bathroom, and I got changed into something else. A bathrobe and underwear. When he came out, he suggested we have another beer. We sat on the couch, and he leaned over to kiss me. The thought of kissing those tight fish lips repulsed me; I told him I wasn't in to kissing, and gave him one quick peck on his moistened lips. I slammed my beer and hurriedly pulled his cock out of his pants.
I found that it did fit into my mouth, but just barely. My lips were stretched to the absolute limit around his dripping rod.
I proceeded to do the up-and-down on his cock, enjoying the feel of it on my tongue. I found that as I sucked his monstrous cock, I didn't have to look at his hideous face.
After five minutes of this, I was aching for the taste of his cream. "Come on, cum," I told him.
He suggested we go to the bed, so we got up and moved our operation over there. Now as I sucked him off he jacked himself, and soon his hand took over the entire operation. Once he started to ejaculate, I put my lips over his knob and sucked furiously at his salty butter.
His turn. He pulled my 6 1/2" cock into his cold mouth at an odd angle. We did it for a bit, but I felt kind of odd, and my erection went down. We stopped for a bit, but my cock didn't get up again. He suggested I suck him off to grow an erection again. Sure enough, after a minute of vigorous sucking, I was back at full mast.
We started to jack ourselves off together, and it wasn't long before I came. I'm great at orgasms. That may sound like a stupid thing to say, but I really throw myself in them with the panting and grunting and tensing. I squirted my load across his face and on the wall behind him. He ejaculated again, and I found myself pushing his cum around with my tongue more than lapping it up.
I lied down on the bed, and he started dragging his flaccid but still rhinoceros cock across my face. He got off on watching his hooded knob bounce off my lips and leave cum trails across my cheeks. After a while of this, I was starting to get impatient, and his cum-tipped cock was starting to itch me.
We wasted a condom trying to get my dick into him, but it was just too worn out to stand up straight. I guess one orgasm was enough.
I told him I wanted to sleep alone, so he got changed and headed to the door. We said bye as if we were two acquaintances who only barely tolerated each other, and he disappeared from my life.
Now when I masturbate, I fixate on the flat images of cocks and try to remember the pounding stretching feeling of that cock sliding in and out of my mouth, the cock of that horrible ugly man whose name I don't remember.