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Gay story of first time
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
KARL
I am oversexed. Most boys think they are. I am
eighteen. I really know I am oversexed. Since I learned
how to jack off at thirteen, I do it every day. Not once,
twice, or three times. Guess! Ten times, give or take a
couple. I'm serious. In the bathroom, in bed, or where
ever I can be alone. It seems I can always find a place of
solitude when I want to play with myself. I most always
have a perpetual hard-on and it needs my continual
servicing. I just wanted to enter this as a prologue to my
story.
My name is Philip Collins. I am a college sophomore
majoring in art. I love college and its social life. I
date, of course, but it seems I have trouble finding women
for sex. I have experienced nothing but rejections. I am
still a virgin. I wonder what I am doing wrong.
In fact, I really wonder how I would be in the bedroom
with a woman. I am very modest. Would I get an erection?
If I didn't, would she laugh at me? Even if I did get it
up, would she teasingly make fun of my peter and ass even
though my body is well structured. If I did fuck her,
would I do it right? If things didn't go well, would I be
confused, angry and frustrated?
When I jack off I have the fantasy of satisfying
myself and my girl. In reality, I am scared to death.
Growing up I was taught by my uninformed parents that sex
was shame-shame. I was even spanked once for playing
doctor on a playmate when I was six years old.
.
My tuition and school expenses make for a tight
budget. I work on the side, trying to keep in spending
money. My folks have sent what they could. Without
warning, my dad died from a heart attack. He left enough
money to provide only for my mother. I am concerned if I
can finish the semester and continue my education this
following year. I really didn't know. I am determined to
get my degree.
My social life has come to a standstill. I can not
afford it. If I go out at all, it is to get a cup of
coffee. This is a needed break. I have a special coffee
place downtown.
One late evening I was sitting on a counter stool
nursing my coffee and going over some return test papers.
A man, about thirty, entered the shop, sat at the end of
the row of empty stools and also ordered a cup. Then, he
saw me.
"Hi, There! With those books and papers, you must be
a student. What's your major?"
I looked up to see a real friendly smile coming my
way.
"Phil." I replied. "I'm an art major."
"Hey! I majored in art myself but changed to
architecture. Still do oil painting as a hobby, however."
The stranger slid over, coffee cup in hand, and soon
we were energized in conversation about the world of art.
Time flew. It was now in the wee hours of the morning.
"My name is Karl," the young man said. " I'm working
late hours all this week on a rush job. This has been
interesting rap. What say we meet again tomorrow night? ."
I felt very much at ease with Karl, he had so much
energy and input to our conversation.
"Sure," I said. "Why not. See you here tomorrow about
nine P.M."
Karl and I hit it off the following three nights. He
was very interesting. We both exchanged ideas about
architectural design and art in general. He told me his
project was done and we probably wouldn't be meeting any
more. This was really a downer for me. I felt I was losing
a real friend.
"But, hey, I have an idea," Karl said. "This
Saturday, why don't you come up to my place. We'll have a
couple of martinis and I'll throw a couple of steaks on
the bar-b-que."
I didn't see why not. We could talk some more, and
besides, since I could no longer afford food and drink of
this caliber, martinis and a steak sounded like heaven.
"Sure," I said."What time?"
.
Karl lived in a newer high-rise apartment on Twin
Peaks. I checked the apartments directory for his name on
the tenant listing. It was there. "Karl Sandstrom - Pent
house."
"Wow," I thought. I pushed the button and Karls voice
came over the speaker. "Is that you, Phil?"
"Yes, "I replied.
"Hold on, I'll buzz you in."
The hum of the security lock sounded. I pushed the
door and walked through the gold foyer to the elevator.
Entering, I checked the rows of buttons and pushed the one
that said,"PH". I could hardly tell the elevator was
moving.It sped upwards, stopped, and the door slid open. I
found myself stepping right into Karl's living room.
His large apartment was furnished luxuriously. Thick
carpet, beautiful furniture, expensive drapes, and two
large picture windows viewing San Francisco below. I'm
glad I had dressed for dinner for Karl had dressed too.
"I'm rather an amateur chef, too", Karl said as he
stood at the bar mixing a pitcher of martini's. I smelled
the aroma of French cooking. I thought we were going to
have a simple steak dinner but French cuisine was another
favorite.
We finished off the martini's. We each had three. We
sat at a table near one of the picture windows and Karl
served dinner which included a large bottle of good
vintage white wine. We had started our conversation on my
arrival and talked all the way through dinner.. We dined
sitting at a window overlooking the city. It was a clear
and beautiful night. A burning candle made light for the
table. There was soft music in the background. Again, time
had turned to the wee hours. I glanced at my watch. We
still hadn't burned out our conversation. I knew we could
never finish in one evening. I said I had to leave. I
regretted breaking things up. I arose. I felt myself
unbalanced. I had too much to drink. I started to walk
across the room. I knew that I was a bit unstable. I felt
Karls hand on my shoulder.
"Whoa, there. I didn't know I had fed you so much
alcohol. I didn't intend to get you drunk."
"I'll make it," I said.
"Look. You've got to take the Muni across town at
this late hour and you're under the influence. Lord only
knows what will be on the buses this time of night. Seems
like there are more gangs of muggers than ever. Why don't
you spend the night here?"
All evening I had felt very much at home at Karls. In
the back of my mind I really didn't want to go back to my
shabby dorm. There, I'd have to listen to the dull, idle
chatter of my room mate.
"If you wouldn't mind," I replied.
"Glad to have you," Karl replied. "Let's crawl in.
I'll show you the bedroom."
The bedroom was another masterpiece of design. The
room was large. A huge over size bed was in the middle. On
either side of the bed were spacious areas furnished with
finished mahogany antique desks accompanied by comfortable
reading chairs, each being supplied with light from a long
arm floor lamp. One wall contained a library of fine
books. Fine appointed furniture stood against the other
walls. Direct spotlight reading lamps were placed in the
ceiling giving individual light to each of the pillows on
the bed. Soft music was piped in. I was concerned with us
sleeping together, but the bed was extra spacious. We
would both have plenty of room.
Karl turned off the room lights, all except the
pillow spots. I stripped to my briefs, carefully folding
and hanging my clothes on the brass floor rack that stood
by my bed. I pulled the covers back and slid into satin
Sheets.
Karl disrobed and stood naked. He was blond, blue
eyed and smooth. About six feet tall. I was transfixed
with his fine male anatomy. I had never felt this way
about any nude male before. My eyes continued to travel
over his beautiful body. He had the looks of Michelangelos
"David."
Karl stretched and scratched his balls in manly
fashion. He went to a dresser, bent down to open a bottom
drawer. His beautiful smooth, well rounded cheeks were
fully exposed. A pair of firm good sized balls hung in his
pouch below.
I had expected Karl was getting a pair of pajamas,
but instead he obtained a handkerchief. He returned to the
bed. "I sleep in the nude," he said, simply. He crawled in
on his side and we both turned out our lights.
.
Pillow talk again returned to art and architecture. I
had sobered up some but was very relaxed. I could not get
the vision of Karls naked body out of my mind. Here he was
in the same bed with me. An uncontrollable force was
inching my body towards his side of the bed. I could not
stop. When I got to the middle, there was Karl. He had
also been inching towards me. We touched. Without a word
we embraced. We squeezed each other hard. Our lips locked.
We rocked back and forth. Karl lay on his back. I mounted
him, sitting on his stomach. I put my hands behind his
shoulders and brought his head forward so our lips could
again touch. I pulled him up to me tightly, running my
tongue into his open mouth, around its roof, over his
teeth, and into every crevice. My passion was
uncontrollable.
.
Karl's hand slid down my stomach and under the
elastic of my briefs. He gently gripped my penis. He
slowly stroked me. I had never been touched before. It
seemed so natural. God, it felt good. Quickly, I removed
my briefs and lay on my back. Karls hand continued to
slowly slide my penis skin up and down. I spread my legs
wider. His hand moved to my balls. One ball was gently
explored, then the other. With his hand softly gripping
both, he gave them a gentle loving squeeze.
.
Karl moved on top and straddled me on his knees, face
down. He bent over and put my penis into his mouth. His
buttocks were raised over my head. His balls and stiff
shaft were at my face. I took his penis and held it. I
explored it with my hand. I ran my fingers over its tip. I
gently massaged it. My saliva ran freely. I had to do it.
I had to feel his penis inside my mouth. With both hands I
gripped him by the small of his back. I lifted my head. My
lips opened. His hard erection slipped through them. My
fast moving tongue rapidly coated it with saliva as it
slowly moved farther into my mouth. It felt so natural. It
felt so right. It felt so good. I tilted my head, letting
its stiffness push deeper into my throat. I was in utter
bliss. The intense, exciting sensation Karl was giving my
crotch and the feeling of his penis in my mouth put
everything into utter harmony. I had never had a cock in
my mouth let alone swallowing cum, not even my own.
Tonight I swallowed Karls.
.
I had to leave early the next morning for school. I
hated to leave the nice surroundings and Karl's warm body.
I slipped out of bed without waking him, dressed, helped
myself to a cup of coffee, which I made, and got ready to
depart. I realized Karl did not have my phone number. I
found a note pad and wrote what a wonderful evening I had.
I asked him to call me at the dorm.
During classes my mind would only think of Karl and
the fantastic night. When I had the chance, I jacked off
three times vividly reliving my experience. Karl just had
to call me.
The phone in the dorm hallway rang numerous times
during the evening. It seemed that someone else would
always beat me to its answering. Each time I expected my
name to be yelled down the corridor. Each time it wasn't
for me. Finally, my hopes were realized. A call did
arrive. It was Karl.
"Hi, Phil. Sorry I didn't get a chance to phone
earlier. How about coming over next Friday night and we'll
spend the weekend here at my pad."
My heart was pounding.
"I'd like to, Karl. Same time? Can I bring
anything?".
"Just your body," Carl replied with a playful
chuckle. "Yes. Same time."
.
Karl was waiting when the elevator door to his
penthouse opened. I stepped out. There no words said. We
immediately embraced. Karl's hand moved down and gently
felt my crotch. I clung to him, experiencing an immediate
turn on. I was led to a large sofa. I was slowly
undressed. All of my clothes were removed. I had no reason
to protest. I stood naked, completely in surrender. I was
laid down on the sofa. My legs were spread. My penis was
hard and throbbing. It slipped slowly into Karls mouth.
The feeling was intense. It felt good. In no time I
ejaculated with a passionate cry. When I caught my breath,
I sat up. Karl stood in front of me naked. The head of his
erected, cut penis was in front of me. I gripped it and
rapidly slid it into my mouth. My tongue worked furiously,
my fingers fondled and gently tugged his balls. Karl was
holding my head, stroking my hair and guiding me to give
him the maximum pleasure. His warm sperm burst forth. I
swallowed and sucked more. I wanted every last drop. I was
still in a frenzy. I needed more.
"Turn around."
Karl turned and I pulled his butt to my face. My
tongue swirled over and about his crack from his tail bone
to his balls. I spread his cheeks. My tongue lashed at his
asshole with saliva slopping licks, bearing deeper and
deeper. I licked until I was exhausted then lay back on
the sofa and cried. Karls hands were there to stroke and
comfort me. I heard his soft voice saying, "Everything is
all right."
For the whole weekend we made love, explored each
other, kissing, hugging, fondling and sucking. During
pillow talk, Karl confessed that he too was oversexed and
could never get enough. Would I like to move in with him.
Rather than working my part-time jobs to make ends
meet, I would be Karls valet and lover. If I agreed, I
would not only get a handsome allowance but my school
tuition would be paid. I couldn't refuse. This was an
offer from heaven. I knew I would do anything for Karl.
.
I moved in. I gave myself completely to doing all of
the domestic chores and satisfying Karl's sexual needs as
well as my own. Karl did have some demands, but I was so
happy being with him I was only too glad to let him use my
body as he wished.
He insisted that I always shower before bed time,
that I stand before him and let him finish drying me.
He also insisted that I sleep in the nude as he did.
Every night I was expected to give and receive sex before
going to sleep. In the morning, I brought him orange
juice. I would stand naked in front of him as he sat and
drank it. When done, he would fondle me then turn me
around and run his finger through my crack. Some mornings
he would spread my buns and run a greased finger up my
asshole. I would then back get in bed and we would suck
each other until we both ejaculated. This was a neat
arrangement as far as I was concerned. I looked forward to
retiring and awakening.
Karl also set up a calendar schedule. Mondays,
Tuesdays and Wednesdays were normal sex nights. We'd have
the bed-and-breakfast sex, as I called it and maybe a
couple of quickies during the evening.
Thursday was my punishment night. We would review
the week. If I had done anything out of line or not fully
cooperated with Karl, I would get my butt spanked. Not
sadistically hard, just some stinging swats. We would talk
about my misdoings. It was up to me to decide if I
deserved punishment. To be punished, I would undress and
kneel over the bed, legs drawn in, fully exposing my bare
bottom. Karl used a hair brush that had a flat wooden
back. He would start the spanking lightly with pleasant
taps. The slaps would become stronger and my butt would
start to sting. I tolerated the spanking until I had
enough and learned my lesson. Karl would stop when I asked
him to, and after I said I was sorry.
If Karl was really disturbed about something, he
would use a different approach. He'd grease his finger,
run it up my ass, poking it in and out a few times, then
he would give me several stinging swats. Then the finger
treatment would start again followed by more swats. the
process continuing until the punishment was over. This was
a frustrating feeling to me. My butt would smart and my
asshole would turn on. It hurt and it felt good at the
same time.
I really looked forward to Friday nights. It was bath
and massage night. Karl wanted me clean inside and out. I
would bend over the sink and he would give me an extra
warm, high enema. After it was expelled, we would shower
together, washing each others bodies spotlessly clean.
In Karl's studio room, where he did his painting,
there was a massage table. I would lean over the end of
it. Karl would spread my cheeks and run his tongue in my
butt pressing it hard into my asshole. Then, it was my
turn to do his. Then I would then crawl on the table and
Karl would take soap, water and a razor and shave my
crotch stubble that might have grown during the past
week. I forgot to mention Karl had previously shaven me.
I would feel Karls hands as he squeezed a ball lower
into my sac and then gently run his razor around it. He
would hold my penis by its tip and move the razor down my
erected shaft covering every inch of skin. The surrounding
area at its base would then be shaved. I would turn over
and any hair was removed that might have grown around my
ass and inner legs. When completely finished I was dusted
with baby powder. A slow, relaxing blow-job blow followed
and then the massage began. Karl would start oiling and
rubbing the bottom of my feet, next my toes and between
them and slowly move upwards to my ankles and legs. My
torso, arms, hands and head followed. I loved the head
massage. His fingers pressed gently against my closed
eyes, then ran over my lips, and into and around my ears.
I would open my mouth. His finger would run over my
tongue, around my gums and back into my throat where soft
tissues were gently rubbed. He was careful so I didn't
gag. This felt very erotic. The whole massage would take
about an hour. As a finale, I would turn on my side, draw
up my leg, and Karls warm, well oiled finger would spend
time moving in, out, and around my asshole. I would do
Karl next but, of course, not shave him. Afterwards, we
would shower to remove the massage oil then fall into bed
for one last sixty nine. Sleep came immediately afterwards
as we snuggled in each others arms
.
Saturday and Sundays were fun and games. I never knew
how I would be dressed for the day. One weekend Karl had
me wear nothing but a T-shirt and tennis shoes. Another
time I wore a loin cloth, if you would call it that. There
was only a three-inch wide piece of cloth that hung over
the front of me. Whenever I'd get a hard-on, my prick
would poke out from behind its cover. Whenever Karl found
it flaccid he'd say, "Bet when I check you in about five
minutes you'll have a hard on." My prick would always
raise and be poking out on his return. This automatically
meant fondling, his jacking me off, or a blow-job.
Neither of us could butt fuck. We both regretted we
were so tight. We did acquire dildos from the sex shop.
They were just large enough when inserted they would feel
comfortably tight in our assholes.
Karl would have me sit on the sofa. I would draw my
feet up to the pillows and then spread my legs wide. This
fully exposed everything including my asshole. He would
lube the dildo well and slide it in me. It would be
retained until he had fully finished, giving me a slow
jackoff that fully blew my mind. He would then remove it.
I would have to take it, wash it, and store it for future
use.
.
Things do change. I graduated with a degree. Karl
kept getting promotions. He is now top architect for a
famous New York firm. Rather than jacking off so much, I
am cruising the San Francisco gay bars. Maybe we will meet
some day. Maybe you will be my next Karl.
.
THE END
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