A gay story: First Time Ever Based on a true story.
I was a teenager working in a photo lab after school and on weekends. The money and the environment was better than fast food, but I didn’t work enough or make enough yet to have a car. Usually, I rode my bike to work, but needed repair, because on this particular day, I found myself walking to the bus stop.
I had a half-mile walk to the stop that would take me to work without a transfer. As I got close to the stop, I saw the bus coming. I ran like a madman to get to the stop before the bus pulled away, but to no avail. I was mad I missed the bus but didn’t want to wait for the next one, so I decided to continue walking to work.
About halfway into the remaining two or three miles, I saw a jogger approaching me, running in the opposite direction I was walking. As he neared, I made a point to stay to one side of the sidewalk to give him room to pass. When he got close, he said, “hi,” and I replied back, “hi.”
I thought nothing of it, really. Then, I saw him come back again. Apparently, he turned around behind me and came back. Out of the blue, he said, “How would you like to come back to my place?”
“What?” was all I could say. I was pretty sure I heard him, but I don’t think my brain believed my ears. He repeated the proposition. I was so surprised and caught off guard, I found myself not knowing what to say. Though I wasn’t at all interested, I was raised to be polite, so acting indignant or punching him in the face was not in my character.
All I could manage to say was, “I have to go to work.” It was a pretty weak answer, and in retrospect I see where it could have been misconstrued.
“Where do you work?” he asked. I told him the name of the photo lab, probably because I wasn’t quick-witted enough at the time to make up a lie. I was definitely off guard and off balance.
“Yeah, I know the place. What time do you get off work?” Again, I should have seen where things were leading, but I wasn’t thinking very clearly.
“Six o’clock.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up then, so you won’t have to walk home.”
“No, that’s o.k., I don’t mind walking” was all I could say, finally showing some sign that I wasn’t interested.
“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll see you then.” And with that, he turned and began running back in his original direction. I spent the rest of my walk to work and my time at work wondering what I’d done, questioning myself why I didn’t tell him flat out to get lost. I wondered if he was going to show up, and if so how I would deal with him without making a scene at my work.
Six o’clock rolled by and he showed up. “Are you ready to go?” he asked. I thought about my options briefly and decided that it might be easiest if I let him give me a ride home. Only, I decided that I would have him drop me off a block or so from my real house so he wouldn’t know where I lived.
“Yeah, thanks for the ride. It saves me from having to walk for an hour.” And with that, I headed out to his car and we drove off. He made small talk along the way as he drove the route back to my house. Distracted with the conversation, I hadn’t realized that I didn’t tell him where I lived yet. And the thought didn’t occur to me until he made a wrong turn.
“Actually, I live further up the street, you don’t have to turn yet” I said.
“Oh, well, I thought we could stop at my place and grab a beer or something before you headed home.” I didn’t say anything, but the thought of getting to sneak a beer interested me.
When we got to his place, I followed him inside his house. “Would you like a beer?” he asked.
“Sure, that sounds cool” I replied. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one. He cracked his open, took a sip and set it down.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hop in the hot tub, I’m a little sore from running today. I’ve got an extra suit if you want to come in, too.”
“I don’t know, that’s okay, you go ahead” I said.
“Aww, c’mon, it’s pretty relaxing” he said, trying to encourage me. Without pushing it any further he disappeared into the other room and emerged a few moments later.
He tossed me a swimming suit and said, “Here, you go.” Then he grabbed his shirt, pulled it off and tossed it on the floor. He pulled down his running shorts, revealing he had no underwear on. I found myself stealing a glance at his dick, maybe to compare it with my own, kind of like how you do in gym class, not wanting to be seen looking, but wanting to look for curiousity’s sake. His dick was flaccid and looked to be average, much like my own.
He was about six feet tall, a little taller than I was then, had dark hair and a somewhat hairy chest. He looked to be about 30 and in pretty good shape, probably from running regularly. He had a nice, fit ass.
I was about five-ten then, with a fairly thin build and not hairy at all. I also was a runner, on the high school cross-country team and was in top athletic shape, just not muscle-bound. Though my hair was medium-dark brown, his was even darker than mine.
He seemed rather nonchalant about stripping naked in front of me and didn’t make a point of parading himself in front of me, perhaps so as not to scare me off. As quickly as he took off his running shorts, he slipped on his suit, grabbed his beer and headed into the hot tub.
“C’mon in, the water is nice,” he said. I weighed my options and decided, perhaps with a bit of trepidation that I would go in. Not having been introduced to any other part of his house, I didn’t feel it was within my right to go to some other room to change. Besides, he didn’t seem to make a big deal of it, so I decided I would go ahead and change there.
I stripped off my shirt, dropped my pants and then my underwear. I turned to lay them on the couch and grabbed the swimsuit I had set down and when I turned back I noticed he was looking at me, perhaps just a glance to size me up like I had done to him. I slipped on the suit, grabbed my beer and hopped in the tub, leaving a little space between us.
He initiated most of the conversation, basically small talk for several minutes, when all of the sudden I saw his swimming suit float up to the top of the water. He grabbed it and said, “I really find swimming suits quite restricting. The jets feel much nicer when you get direct contact with your skin. You should try it.”
I essentially ignored what he’d done and what he said, but in my mind I was debating what to do while continuing the small talk. Perhaps the beer had loosened my inhibitions, but I decided to see if it really made any difference. Without saying anything, I slipped off my suit and tossed it out of the hot tub like he’d done with his.
“Doesn’t that feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually it does,” I replied. And really, it did. The jets’ direct contact was nicer than pushing the rough material of the suit against me. We continued talking about nothing important for a minute or two when I felt something touch my dick.
I jumped a little, startled, and when I realized it was his hand, I said, “Whoa, I don’t think you should do that.”
He then wrapped his hand around my dick and gave it a full stroke while he replied, “Are you sure?” My heart was suddenly beating about a hundred beats a minute.
I hesitated for a split second as he continued to stroke me, when finally I said, “Yeah.” He continued to stroke me again, looking for some kind of reaction from my cock, which by now had begun to harden involuntarily.
Then he said, “Okay” and removed his hand. I found myself relieved that he had stopped but also a bit turned on by the stimulation. A few moments later, without a word he slipped below the surface of the water. I wondered for a moment where he’d gone, perhaps to hide himself briefly from the embarrassment of making an unwanted advance.
My questions were answered in short time when I felt his hands on my cock once again. This time I had already risen to full hardness and when he discovered this he made no efforts to stop stroking me. I felt like I should make him stop, but the feeling I was getting from having my cock stroked was too good to end just now, so I decided it was o.k. to let him continue. He continued stroking some more when I felt something warmer on the tip of my dick. Was that what I thought…yes, that was definitely his tongue that teased the underneath-side of my cock. He lips were wrapped around the head.
At this point, he needed to come up for air and as he did so, he released his hold on my cock and shifted his hands to either side of my hips. As he was pushing me gently upward he said, “Here, sit up on the side.”
I followed his guide and got my self out of the water so that I was sitting on the side of the tub. He moved himself toward me between my legs, grabbed my cock again and immediately lowered his mouth onto me again. Up until this point in my life, the closest I’d ever come to having sex was looking at my brother’s porno magazines and fantasizing about it. I’d never even gotten a blow job or a hand job and this was feeling great!
I reveled in the sensations I was feeling as his mouth moved gently up and down my firm shaft. The warmth and the softness and wetness were far better than anything I had ever simulated with my own hand while masturbating. I found my self rotating my hips, encouraging him to go further. He noticed my signals and began to take me all the way into his mouth, completely to the base of my shaft. From the first deep throat, I found myself so overwhelmed with the sensations that I had to consciously try to hold back from cumming right away.
“Oh, man,” I said, “that feels too good. It’s going to make me cum.” My warnings didn’t change his actions in the slightest as he bobbed his head on my cock in still slow, rhythmic motions from the very tip all the way to the base. As he continued to do this, I realized that no amount of concentration or holding back was going to stop the inevitable.
I warned him again, “I can’t hold back, it feels too good.” With that he started thrashing his tongue against the bottom of my cock, squeezing it against me as he stroked up and down. Within two strokes I felt a surge building up inside me.
“Oh, man, here I go,” I said as he went down on me again, this time about half-way while really working my cock with his tongue. The first blast of cum was a wave of euphoria that overcame me almost like I would pass out with satisfaction. With each throb of cum I bucked my hips in and out of his mouth unleashing what felt like a never-ending supply of cum in a series of about fifteen shots. By the time I had finished, I almost fell off the side of the tub, collapsing in weakness from the total release.
He finished cleaning my cock with his mouth and tongue and finally pulled off my now half-limp dick. “How would you like to try it?” he asked as he got up and sat on the side of the tub next to me.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“C’mon, he said. Trust me, it’s as nice to give as it is to get.” I didn’t reply but sat there for a moment trying to decide how to proceed. Having just released my load, I had lost some of my sense of sexual exploration. While I was still making up my mind, he took my hand and put it on his cock, making me rub it. I decided that things might not go well if I tried to leave without him getting satisfaction, so I figured I would just give him a hand job until he got his release.
Without further encouragement from him I began to willingly stroke his cock, awaking it from it’s slumber. I used the same techniques on his that I had used on my own when I jerked off. Almost immediately I noticed positive results as his cock hardened within my grip. I began to increase my pace, almost hurrying the process, perhaps looking for him to get off quickly.
I think he sensed this, as he said, “I’d really like you to suck on it.”
At first I tried to ignore his request, but then I realized that I would need to say something, so I finally said, “I’m not sure I want to.” In retrospect, that was probably just like asking for some encouragement rather than an outright refusal.
He grabbed my arms and began to tug me down into the water, to position me between his legs as he said, “You really need to try it at least once. If you decide you don’t like it you don’t have to continue.” His rationalization seemed fair and I figured that I could just give him a few token licks or sucks and declare I didn’t want to continue and be done. This way, at least I tried.
Now positioned on my knees between his legs and facing his cock, I grabbed it with both hands and paused, looking at it, not having the courage to actually go further. He put a hand behind my head and gently pushed it forward toward his member. “This is it,” I thought as I neared his cock, closed my eyes and opened my mouth, awaiting the moment when it finally hit my lips.
As the head reached my lips I was immediately surprised at how soft it was. I wrapped my lips around the whole head and began licking it, exploring it and the feeling in my mouth. Before long, it was clear he wanted me to go on as he again pushed me head further down his shaft. I took in another inch or so while licking around to simultaneously explore and wet his tool. I realized at this point that I actually was beginning to enjoy it.
I started moving up and down his cock, simulating the feeling he would be getting if he was actually fucking a pussy. He started responding by pushing his hips toward me with each downward stroke. I found I could take at least about four, maybe five inches into my mouth rather comfortably, which was most of his cock. I figured he had about six inches of hardness.
When he started to quicken his thrusting I became concerned about him cumming, so I pulled off him completely and said, “I don’t want you to cum in my mouth, so tell me when you are about to cum, ok?” He said okay and I went back to work on his straight, firm rod.
I began to use techniques that he used, swirling my tongue on his cock, particularly on the really sensitive part on the bottom-side near the tip. He moans, which were becoming more frequent were telling me I was doing a really good job for a first-timer. I switched to an up-and-down sucking motion while pressing my tongue firmly against his shaft.
Which each time I engulfed him, he would let out words of encouragement, like “oh, yeah,” “that’s great” and “ah, that feels good.” I increased my pace more and more, seeking out his climax.
He let out three successive, “Oh’s”, and then finally said, “I’m gonna cum,” but before he could get the to word, “cum” I felt a warm blast in my mouth. I was surprised but excited I had succeeded, so I didn’t pull off him, but instead kept sucking as I felt each successive shot enter my mouth. Finally, I instinctively swallowed in reflex to my mouth being filled. I continued sucking and milking him until he stopped pulsing and his cock began to grow limp. As I retracted from his cock I finally got an opportunity to taste his cum–strange, but not bad. I swallowed what remained in my mouth.
He asked if I could stay longer, but I told him I really needed to get home. We got dressed and he drove me home.
That was all that happened–that time.