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The Birth of a Gay Slut

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Technically I was born 21 years before this story begins, but let's not quibble the details, ok? I graduated from college three days after my twenty first birthday. Two weeks later I was in Maryland, with a programming job and nothing to do. One of the things I promised myself was that on my twenty first birthday I was going to try gay sex. I surfed online to find a recent manual on safe sex and anonymously asked a newsgroup where a good local club was and the basics of how not to be a dumbass.

Friday night I shaved, got dressed up (I have horrible fashion sense -

a beige jacket over white tee-shirt - but a lack of regard for strange looks so it works out) and maneuvered the old but still ticking (loudly too) Camry to the parking lot of "Stardust" which had a very modest sign despite the name.

I sat down to a club filled entirely with men. It hit the same way leaving my cloister of an engineering school for the real world let me know again how many women there WERE. Even prepared, it's a physical shock. When the bartender asked, I ordered a two dollar sprite and scanned the crowd. A man next to me, tall, dark and drunk and not at all my type, turned to me and said loudly enough to be heard over the bar-noise, "Sprite? That's not a real man's drink!" He held up his Heiniken to demonstrate.

I looked him in the eyes, gave him my best "you're an asshole" smile, paused just long enough so that it was still obviously intentional and said just as loudly, "Real men's drinks are outlawed in public." He had a good laugh and turned to his stereotypical friend.

Stereotypical for a frat boy, at least. I'm not a big fan of fraternities in any context. Frat boys really Chap My Ass, and not in a good way.

Two minutes later, another Sprite landed in front of me and someone new took the place to the other side of me. "Hi," He said.

"Hi back." I said and extended my hand. "My name's Dave."

"Rick," he said. He had a broad smile and a clean cut, "I'm white and upper-middle-class" face. Normally I would stay away from his type as they tend to be arrogant, pretentious, and boring. But I guess I have to explain a bit about my standards.

I'm not a cute guy. Ok, I can be a cute guy, but I'd never know it because my image of cute is an extremely muscular (huge, let's say), pale to light brown skinned, blonde, cut and clean and fresh smelling man. I want the picture perfect yuppy porn god who surfs in his spare time. It's too bad too because I don't have too many chips to lay on the table.

See, I'm more your average pedophile's dream. I still get carded going to R rated movies. I'm slim, despite working out CONSTANTLY all last semester, about 130 pounds, 5' 10", Peruvian little guy with glasses when I'm not wearing contacts who PROGRAMS for all the disastrously unsexy things of a living. But I've seen ads for 250 pound women in the classifieds section so I'm willing to bet on the odds. Hope is a good thing. And there hope was, buying me a Sprite, of all things.

"Actually," Rick said, "It's illegal in pretty much every state pretty much everywhere. It's 20 years in Maryland for a blowjob and an extra 10 for anal sex."

"Yeah," I said, as if considering, "that could be a pretty good deal."

We laughed. He had a deep, really sexy laugh. It's weird to think about someone's laugh being sexy while you redefine what sexy is.

Weird but cool.

"Where are you from?" he said, smiling at his own trite come on line.

I liked the idea that I knew what he was smiling about.

"Well," I started, took a sip to quell the nervousness, "I lived 17 years in Fairfax, Virginia, got kicked out at 18, went to college on scholarships near Albany for three years, graduated early and came to program for eight hours a day making ridiculous amounts of money doing something I'd do as a hobby anyways."

"Yeah? I'm currently working as a software engineer doing consulting," he said. "Who do you work for?"

"Lockheed." I said, "Although with the awesome quality management they've got, I've started calling them 'lock-heads'" It wasn't funny but he laughed. We were in a good mood and it was getting better. We joked and exchanged sordid and silly histories.

About the time we started talking about sex, and past relationships, and how Microsoft was obviously the spawn of something awful and we KNEW JUST what it was, I noticed the bulge in his pants, caught him catching me looking, and let my hand rest almost too lightly to feel against his knee. It's a long sentence, but it was a very long moment, believe me.

Two sentences later I found myself agreeing to follow him to his apartment and watch this computer rendered video he'd made himself.

His house fucking ruled. He had the kind of apartment that screamed, "I make 100 dollars an hour and have no children." You could talk to the CD player and lights and even the washing machine. You can tell I'm a techie because electronics turn me on.

We stopped wandering around the house after a while, in our electronics guy-daze, and settled into the couch to watch the video.

It was actually pretty good, foamy animal creatures and very picturesque body builder type guys moving to a deep beat - "Toy Story" does some really good pot and watches gay porn. I had to force myself to stop analyzing the distance between us constantly. I found I was shifting around a lot.

He turned to me, the blonde hair on the back of his hand just barely visible in the dim light, but I caught myself staring briefly as he let it rest on my shoulder. My shoulder trembled.

"You're nervous." he said. He looked concerned and confident at the same time. It hit me how stunningly handsome he was, and how much I wanted to kiss the side of his face.

"Yes," I said, "I'm nervous because this is my very first time and although I've been planning this for a while, I never actually thought it would be laying it's hand on my shoulder and I'd want it to fuck me so badly." I grinned, to break the spell, and to ease the honesty to a joking level. It's one of those things I do.

He grinned back. "A first, huh?"

"Yeah," I said, and lifted my hand up to trace his palm with my finger, slowly lifting my eyes from the contact to meet his. When I get nervous - I shake. By this I mean I could be confused for an epileptic at longer range, but he didn't mention it, and to cover, I moved closer to him. Just an inch, just enough to have his smell pass through me.

Then he kissed me. I can't say how it was different from when I'm normally ("normally" meant "with female" then) kissed. Let's just say that when he was done, my hands were at his neck and chin and I was kissing the side of his face and moving down to the crook of his neck to inhale his scent. I ran my tongue across the thick muscles which trembled at my touch, up the tender but slightly prickly neck to his lips and then I kissed him. They say taste is mostly made of smell, but at that point smell and taste and the feel of his hands on my waist and the physical presence he had a few inches away had melded and I was so hard my jeans were hurting enough that I had to squirm around to fix it. He gave a grin at that, so either he found it amusing, or he was content in general. Either way was fine by me.

He had unbuttoned my shirt by this time, and I was starting to fumble with his. I'm naturally clumsy with buttons, so I was half naked by the time he took his off and with it the tee shirt underneath. He was muscled perfectly. Every smooth curve of him was male perfection with a little added on to exaggerate the effect. His skin was an ivory coversheet to the most beautiful statue in the world. I found myself tracing my tongue across every surface, on top of him like a cat while he lay back with a happy and very smug smile. When my mouth had reached his nipples, I gave them quick flicks while lightly tracing his thigh with my hand. I could feel the heat from his cock through his jeans. It was playful. It was exciting. It was new. And it was awesome.

After teasing him for a while I moved my hand to his belt and undid his pants. Right before I reached to pull him out of his underwear he sat up. "Let's get you naked first." He said with a wild grin and then was on top of me, quickly removing the offending garment. He took my underwear off with a flourish, revealing all seven and a half inches of me sticking out hard as a steel bar but much, much warmer.

"Very nice," he said, running his hand over my body with an approving little lick of his pink tongue over his white teeth. I felt a little like a high performance horse getting patted to feel the muscle. My hands had found places on his pecs, running up and down his chest lightly and steadily. He stood up and shucked his jeans.

"C'mon," he said, "last one in the shower is a Republican!" I beat him, but not by much. His warm and large hand was on my ass as I stepped in.

We kissed for a while before he even turned the water on. For another long while we kissed while we ran soap over each other's skin. I could feel his balls against my cock, his cock against my stomach, his hard leg between mine, holding me open to him. I was a little too nervous to actually fondle his cock with my hand. I think he felt it and waited for me to get comfortable with the idea before I finally ran my slick hand under him to his balls, which I fondled for a while before moving up to gently touch his hard dick. He kissed me firmly while I did, pressing me against him. My dick was actually larger than his, which was a pale white and red, with the veins much easier to see than mine are.

Watching Rick pulse made my heart race.

He broke the kiss with his hand around my cock. I'd been so wrapped up in his large dick, I hadn't noticed he had put it there. "I want to wash you first," He said. "Turn around." I did and he hugged me from behind, his huge body against mine, his strong arms around my chest.

I didn't so much follow an order as an instinct as I bent over, my hands resting on the shower edge. He folded with me, and I was worried for a second that he was going to fuck me there and then, without a condom, but he held me that way, savoring the moment.

Then he took one arm from around me and got more soap on it. I could feel his firm and very male stomach muscles rippling against my back and I closed my eyes, the drum of the water soothing me. The tip of one of his fingers gently ran down the crack in my ass. I have a very sensitive ass, especially when I'm not being tickled. This was wonderfully not tickling. I squirmed though, but not away from him, more encouraging his explorations to the sensitive parts. He ran his finger down to my balls, and then back up, forcing my cheeks apart.

He massaged my anus for a while with a slow circular motion that was oddly soothing. Maybe it was the warmth of his form behind me, the safety of one arm supporting me, but I thrust my ass back to meet his massage, forcing his finger into me. He had thick fingers. At least, it felt thick, moving back and forth in me slowly working me around in circles. It felt good to be worked, to be slowly and confidently prepared to be fucked. I guess he was cleaning me too, but I wasn't concentrating on that.

"Theoretically," he said softly as he tongued my ear, "I'm cleaning you because you didn't know you were supposed to." (Actually I had)

"But, in reality, I just enjoy taking your ass with my fingers." I gave a small whimper of submission, gyrating on his finger as his other hand massaged my nipple. His tongue was busy with my neck. He got another finger into me, and then another and was soon pumping them in and out to a steady rhythm as I breathed harder and harder. I could feel his breath becoming deep and desperate as well, and his crotch thrust against me, his cock banging my thigh obscenely.

He stood me up with a finger still inside me, and then washed off his hand and gave me a deep kiss. We turned the water off and got out and as I began to towel him, I decided I was much to turned on to get cold from only water. I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet, then his ankles, then his strong calves, his tight thighs, the notch of his hips. I spent a long time tonguing the inside of his thighs, before finally moving to his large balls and giving them little licks before sucking them into my mouth. His hands were tight in my hair by this time. His eyes were closed. I let him guide me to his cock and took it in my mouth agonizingly slowly. I'm sure I wanted it as badly as he did. The taste was unlike anything I could describe, more like having him in my brain, rolling inside me like the curls of a pinwheel, spinning my desire.

I only had to suck for a few minutes, my lessons carefully learned from what my girlfriends had done with me. I swallowed his cum, despite my forebrain's dire warnings of either drowning or disease.

Forebrains were meant to be ignored in ignoramuses like me. We're happier that way.

I kept my mouth on his cock as it softened, then gave one final lick to his balls and stood up with my hand on his tight ass.

"I'm amazed I can still stand," Rick said. "You, on the other hand, can stand perfectly fine, it looks like. His hand went to my cock and began stroking. He rubbed his own messy and still slightly inflated cock on mine and the combination of saliva and cum gave his rubbing the power to crumble me into his arms, or his spare arm at least. I couldn't kiss him; I was too wrapped up in my own explosive feelings, which he let subside several times before having me give the most tremendous orgasm of my life against his leg.

Later we retired to the bedroom. I wrestled him to his back and began to tease him with my tongue. You don't get many chances to lick Adonis's armpits and so I did, along with the rest of him. By "rest of him" I mean ALL of the rest of him. I went slowly and did a good job. Soon he was back to raging hardness, and his breath was coming quickly again. His finger was slowly rubbing my anus by that time, and I knew what was coming when he pushed me over onto all fours and reached in the drawer.

I felt him kneel over me, his thighs against mine, his stomach against my back. I let my head rest on the bed and watched underneath as he rolled the condom on and greased it up. The sight of his hand massaging lubricant onto his cock caused me to thrust against his slightly.

"I want to leave you hanging for a while," he whispered huskily, his fingers quickly redoing the thorough job they had done in the shower.

I was thrusting against him almost demanding, small moans coming directly from my chest and escaping my mouth in thick rasps.

Rick knelt back on the bed and pulled me with him. His hand adjusted his cock so that my sitting down on his thighs would impale me. But now it wasn't something I was afraid of, it was something I dearly wanted! I eased down on him with hardly any pain at all, and he held me there with both arms as I trembled and sighed against him.

He's inside me! My mind screamed its pleasure and I'm sure some of that escaped into the bedroom along with his groans. He didn't thrust. He actually held me down until he thought I was ready to begin moving up and down on his cock supported only by my thighs and my rising crescendo of lust.

His hands on my chest supported and guided me as I impaled myself on his cock slowly over and over again. My head rested on his shoulder as I fucked myself on his huge cock. The muscles in his body were bowstring tight and he was loud with his pleasure at my movements.

The loudness was awesome. It helped me let go of whatever inhibitions were left while I thrust as hard as I could down on another man's cock.

I let one hand wander back to where we joined to feel him moving in and out of me. "Fuck me," I said.

So he did. I found myself shoved face into the mattress, legs spread as he pounded his huge body into my ass. The impact of his hips was leaving bruises I'm sure, but I didn't care, I thrust back with him, adopted his rhythm, and let the hot glow from his fucking drive me wild. It lasted a quite long time, but ended as I was beginning to feel the start of an orgasm build up. He gave three terrifically powerful thrusts and then his cock jerked with tiny beautiful spasms, like the coughs of a bird and then he was still. I missed it when he pulled his cock out and took the condom off. I felt ecstatically used.

I felt empty. I felt fucked and maniacally wonderful all at once.

"Rick," I said as I kissed him, "That. Was. Amazing!"

Also amazing was that horny as I was, the fucking had tired me out so much I fell asleep on his shoulder nearly right away. I guess I'm not as romantic as I could be.

I woke up to the sun in the window and the idea that I had to _do_

something. I remembered what it was when I saw his thick cock resting on his thigh, curved and soft and all male wonderful. I got hard at the sight, and quickly moved down to where I could take his beautiful dick in my mouth. He was soon awake , and I gave him the longest, best morning blowjob I could. After swallowing his spunk, he moved down on me, and I was accepted into his mouth with nary a "good morning" to spare.

Having Rick go down on me was to having a girlfriend go down on me the way firing a firing a tank cannon was to firing an air gun. It lasted for at least twenty minutes and I was in squirming ecstasy the entire time. When I finally did come, I was out of breath for what seemed like ages. The room actually spun around for a while before I came back to earth and could kiss him. He had grown a little fuzz which was also a nice new sensation to enjoy until we both had to pee. I held his ass and cock while he peed, and he held mine. It was the romance of the perfect ass. "All I can think when I look at that tool of yours is that it fucked me." I said, and he kissed me in answer.

We hung out for the morning, a bit worn out, and then he gave me a goodbye kiss at the door, and I drove my battered car home. The taste of his cum is something I've never forgotten though. Someday I'll have to thank him again for such a wonderful deflowering.

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