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By the age of 18 I had (frustratingly) not yet gotten laid, and I of course wanted to, very badly. Pictures of sexy women, both in front of my eyes and behind them, were my constant companions. I was pretty sure I was not alone in this, but I became erect — sometimes even painfully so – at the drop of a hat and had to relieve myself often.
Many were my fantasies of getting laid but I also began to believe that wet lips and a tongue would be able to create sensations far more intricate and pleasurable than a vagina. I since learned that there is no comparison – they are different but both wonderful – but my desire to be licked and sucked has never waned.
I had become acutely aware of something. The next block from where I grew up in old Philadelphia – a lovely neighborhood of brick townhouses, brick sidewalks and gas streetlamps – was a gay cruising area.
Every night after dark, men would stand or sit on the steps of houses while other men walked by, eying each other. And as I came and went from the block where I lived, visiting friends and returning home by foot, I couldn’t help noticing how many of them eyed me as well. I knew I was attractive to girls and I was learning that I was attractive to men as well.
I think it came upon me slowly, as I was reluctant to admit it, but although I am completely not wired to be attracted to men (and I’ve since tried, it just doesn’t work), I am wired to be attractive to men, and gradually I came to terms with the fact that a recurring fantasy of mine was to have my cock sucked by a man.
The fantasy and the urge took hold and grew and would not let me go. It still hasn’t, many years later.
One of my best friends befriended an affluent gay couple who loved to smoke pot and were happy to share (with good looking teenage boys, anyway – hmm… I wonder why!). Us “good looking teenage boys”, of course, were happy to have a source of free high-grade pot and we visited them many times in their apartment. The younger of the couple, istanbul travesti Ron, kept making passes at me, which I of course rebuffed – or more, honestly, pretended were not happening, but I started thinking of a way I could arrange somehow to be alone at their apartment with no one but Ron. I didn’t want my friends to know what I wanted.
One day the opportunity presented itself. I arrived at their apartment planning to meet my best friend there, and Ron’s partner Steve told me that he had called and said he wouldn’t be coming. He told me he himself was leaving but Ron would be coming home soon and I could wait if I wanted to get high with Ron.
I pretended to think about it but of course I knew immediately that my chance had finally arrived to maybe see what it would be like to get a blowjob from a man.
I sat on the couch and waited and then slouched back with my legs spread invitingly when I heard the key in the lock, closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Sure enough, after a short interval while Ron settled in, I felt a weight on the couch next to me and a hand on my knee. I didn’t stir. The hand wandered a bit, and then a bit more and I stayed “sound asleep”.
The hand started to slide up and down the inside of my thigh and still I didn’t stir. Well, more exactly something did start to stir as the hand got closer and closer to the juncture of my thighs and the bulge in my pants.
Soon the hand was just brushing that bulge and moving away again and still I remained “asleep”. My cock was beginning to swell (as it is now, writing this) and I think he could see it pushing against the thin material of my khaki pants, because he finally did what I knew he had lusted to do for a long time and moved his hand directly on to the bulge in my pants to trace the outlines of my cock with his fingers and start to stroke it.
At that I stirred just a little and his hand flew away, but I settled back again and soon his hand returned and began istanbul travestileri stroking my cock again though my pants, getting it harder and harder. As if in an erotic dream I stirred again and mumbled and sighed but spread my legs further. Encouraged, he was tracing the outline of the head of my cock, and the shaft, and gently stroking my balls before returning to stroke my cock again, which was now erect, trapped and straining against my pants.
I kept up the pretense of being asleep and lost in an erotic dream, and soon his fingers found my zipper and pulled it down. He reached in and I could feel his fingers now tracing and stroking my cock with no barrier to lessen the sensation.
He gently freed my cock from my pants (I wore no underwear and never have if I could help it) and now, with his prize in his hands, he began stroking me in earnest. It was heavenly. It was forbidden and it was erotic as hell and I couldn’t help “moaning in my sleep”.
His fingertips teased the head of my cock and stroked lightly up and down the shaft. He went back again and again to that incredibly sensitive area just below the head of my cut cock, on the underside of the shaft. I could feel that he had wet his hand with spit. He rotated his fingertips and then his fist around the head, and just below it with just the right amount of pressure.
I had never pleasured myself with anything other than a fist moving up and down my cock and had no idea that the degree of sexual sensations he was creating were possible. My cock was so hard it felt like the skin was being stretched by the engorged flesh beneath it, and every little movement brought new heights of erotic bliss.
Before long, his weight lifted from beside me and I felt him kneeling between my legs, pushing them further apart to gain access. His lips sank over the head of my cock and his tongue worked me as his head began to bob up and down. The sensation was even more electric and I couldn’t help gasping travesti istanbul at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth around my cock. It was then that I pretended to “wake up”. How could I not, with that much stimulus lavished on my young, hormonal, over-stimulated and under-used cock?
I opened my eyes and gasped as if surprised to wake up with a gay man’s lips wrapped around my straight and extremely hard cock. He looked up at me, replaced his mouth with a stroking hand and smiled, and with his other he reached up and took off my glasses. He put them down on the couch beside me and immediately plunged his lips down over my cock again and began sucking and licking.
He alternated: long, slow strokes of his lips up and down the shaft of my cock, all the while using his tongue to further fire my nerve endings; he pulled his mouth almost off and sucked and licked the head of my cock. He circled the base of my cock with his thumb and first finger, making it even harder and holding it while he licked up and down the length, occasionally dipping down to lathe my balls with his wet tongue — another new and delicious sensation for me.
The sensations were more than incredible. It was well beyond what I had expected, but I was still young and inexperienced and it seemed like less than a minute (and probably was) before my cock started shooting cum into his mouth. He began moaning, I was moaning, and I emptied myself down his throat.
My cock was now so sensitive that I had to make him stop. I couldn’t take it anymore and I pushed him away. He released my cock from between his lips, stood up, tousled my hair and went into the kitchen to bring me a damp and a dry paper towel. Acting as if nothing had happened (which is just what I needed in order to not admit to myself that I had just let a guy suck my cock and make me cum), he asked If I wanted to get high and wandered away to get his paraphernalia, leaving me to clean myself and put my still tingling cock back into my pants.
Many blowjobs ensued thereafter. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of them. Ron was smitten with me and had been for some time, and I took full and shameless advantage of that to get my cock sucked as many times as I could. It was never enough. To this day, it has never been enough.
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