This scene continues the story begin in Fifty-Five Minutes Part 1. It uses the same technique of shifting narrators, as well, with an ">" sign indicating a change in whose mind we're inside. I hope that makes it easier to follow the shifts.
As always, play safe, and DONATE TO NIFTY.
It was my last night in the dorms--the last night of freshman year. Classes had been over for weeks, and even my last final was behind me. I could have moved out a few days ago--almost everyone else I knew had--but I hadn't wanted to leave. I still didn't. At least I wasn't going home for the summer--back to my miserable little town and indifferent family. No, instead, I was going to stay in my college town--a small nothing in the middle of nowhere that had a mid-sized university and just enough natural beauty surrounding it to do a decent business during the summer as a launching point for some small-scale hiking and rafting expeditions. I would be working and living at one of the seasonal guest houses--a glorified B&B--on the outskirts of town. I already had my "Blake" nametag. Yes, much better than going home...but, all the same...I wasn't ready for it to be over. There was too much I hadn't done. Too many things I had done that I wished I hadn't. I looked around my empty dorm room--all of my things were packed, and my roommate had left as soon as possible--and felt almost impossibly sad. I thought I might actually cry. Instead, I decided to make one last freshman mistake and picked up my phone and re-re-re-installed Grindr. By 8:45, I was ready to go.
I wasn't sure why I even bothered with Grindr. It had been months since I'd met anyone, and even longer since I hadn't immediately regretted having done so. On the other hand, living in a small college town severely limited my options--and being a professor at said college limited them even further. The nearest city with a bar where I could simply be Ben--or Mark or Rick or Steve if I chose to be someone else--was a two-hour drive away. Here, I would always be Professor Jackson, known as much for being what some of the emeritus faculty still called "a confirmed bachelor"--and for being half the age of many of my colleagues--as I was for the content of my philosophy courses. Undergraduates and grad students were off-limits--my own rules, not the university's--so the best I could hope for was some random guy passing through on his way to a camping trip, as the few townies and I had already sized each other up and passed. Still, two hours was a long drive, and with the summer season just about to begin, I thought maybe tonight would be different. I poured myself a glass of port and opened the app.
A very few minutes was enough to terrify me. With the undergraduates mainly gone, Grindr was a ghost town, to the point where I was seeing profiles for guys who lived 30 miles away. Fuck. There had better be some fun guys coming through over the summer, or I was going to have to endure a few months of involuntary celibacy. Another regret from my freshman year: There were a lot of things I hadn't done, and a lot of guys I hadn't done them with. Like Thom. After our encounter in the library bathroom, we hadn't seen each other, except across the lecture hall for the Euro History final, when I wasn't even certain if Thom had acknowledged or recognized me. I felt the sadness again and switched over to Instagram where, sure enough, Thom had posted a few hours before. He seemed to be taking a road trip with a few friends, including one guy who always seemed to be sitting beside and touching Thom. Great. A boyfriend. Of course. With just a touch of anger rising, I switched back over to Grindr. I hadn't updated my profile since I had installed Grindr the first time shortly after I turned 18. it was heavily geared toward dating and making friends, with lots of detail and fully clothed pics of me smiling. I erased most of it, leaving only my age, weight, and height. I changed the "Looking For" section to "Right Now." I deleted my pics and replaced them with a headless torso shot, cropped from a pic taken when I was at the beach over spring break. Something was going to happen tonight, even if I had to be someone else to make it happen.
Grindr was the usual waste of time. After a halfhearted investigation, I was ready to close it and start hunting for porn when I refreshed one last time. And then, there it was. A blank profile--though it was a new profile, so maybe the picture was just awaiting moderation--close enough to me that it had to be someone in town. 19. 6'1". 185#. And the magic words "Right Now." Intriguing. Someone new, so probably not a student. Most of them were gone for the summer anway. Someone in town to work in the local tourism industry, maybe. Or maybe a tourist himself? Worth finding out. So, I sent a message and then another right after.
"Hello"
"How are you tonight?"
The picture was of a handsome and vaguely familiar man, with close cropped, light brown hair; square, black-rimmed hipster glasses; and a neatly trimmed beard to match. He had a massive smile--almost comically so--and was wearing a T-shirt and posing in front of some trees on a sunny day. The rest of the profile was pretty sparse: 39 years old (definitely a DILF, I thought), 6'1", average body (whatever that meant), 200 #s. Nothing else. Still, the photo was what mattered. I actually took a deep breath before responding. I wasn't good at this, but tonight, I wasn't me.
"Hey Daddy. You're pretty sexy."
"Daddy?" This was getting better and better. All my queer friends knew about my preference for younger guys. That's why I had my no-students rule: I worried what I might become without it. Good men didn't need rules; I did.
"Thanks. You are too, son."
"What are you doing in town?"
I almost wrote that I went to school here, but I decided that if I was going to be someone else, then I should just fucking be someone else. Not a student, just here for the summer, working. Maybe a drop-out. It probably wouldn't get that far. After waiting long enough to try not to seem as eager as I was, I responded.
"Working. Just here for the summer."
Perfect. I was already getting into it when his picture suddenly appeared on his profile. Headless torso, smooth, but fit and lean; nice dfinition, but not overly muscled. Bronzed skin that seemed to indicate Latino heritage. Sexy as fuck. I imagined my cum sliding down his chest and felt my cock begin to grow.
"Hot pic."
"What are you looking for, kid?"
Now, I thought to myself, now is the moment to do it. Be someone else. Don't answer how Blake would. Answer the way...Thom would. Be like Thom. I typed my response and hit send before I could second-guess myself.
"I'm looking to get fucked, Daddy."
"Now."
Not wasting time. Good. He knew what he wanted.
"Here's my address. When can you be here?"
I was incredibly nervous, but I quickly mapped the route. About 15 minutes by foot. I wanted to shower first, so...
"I can be there in half an hour."
Thirty minutes later, at 9:30 sharp, I knocked on the door of a well-maintained but basic bungalow, having double-, triple-, and quadruple-checked the address. I felt as if I was visibly shaking. This was not me. I was enjoying playing the role, and the quick shot of vodka I had taken before I left my dorm room had helped, but it was wearing off. Was I actually going to lose my virginity to this rando? I had been willing--maybe--to lose it to Thom in a library bathroom, but now? The house looked well-maintained, but not fancy--basic bushes and a few flowers. I waited...another few seconds and I probably would have left. Instead, the door opened...
...and an impossibly attractive young man stood on my doorstep. Definitely Latino, with full lips, dark, thick hair, and deep brown eyes. He was wearing athletic wear, but judging by his damp hair and the faint smell of shampoo I detected, he'd clearly just showered. I smiled and gestured him to come in. He looked around, nervously but excitedly, and did so...
...he motioned toward a sofa and offered me a drink--port, to be specific, which I found a bit strange. Needing some more liquid courage, I said yes. His voice was higher than I expected, but still sexy. No detectable accent except education. The place was full of books. Dude was almost certainly a professor, and he kinda had the build. Not fat, but more "nerd who tries to stay in shape" than "fitness fanatic." He was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a white wife beater. I suspected that he'd dressed for me, the way that I had dressed for him. I was pretending my way through this...was he?
I brought him the port and sat quite close to him with my own. He drank his in a matter of large gulps. Nerves. Straight? Cheating? Whatever the deal was, he seemed eager but Daddy was definitely going to have to take the lead. Easy enough. He put his port glass down on the coffee table, and I grabbed his hand and simply said, low but loud, "Come with me."
I stood up so quickly my head spun a little--but I was glad he was taking the lead. He took me back to his dark bedroom, which was lit only by a TV on the wall showing what appeared to be hardcore gay porn--Bel Ami or one of those. He positioned me at the foot of the bed, facing the head, while he...sat down on the foot of the bed and simply looked at me for a moment.
"Strip." The boy didn't respond. I realized I hadn't gotten a name--a nicety I usually tried to observe--but we'd begun now, and asking would break the mood. "Strip." I said again. He was clearly going for a Dad/Son thing, so I quickly added, "Don't make me say it a third time, Boy." At this his eyes got wide--and I think I detected movement from his crotch. Good Boy.
I hadn't quite believed he meant it when he told me to strip--in fact, I had almost laughed from the absurdity of it all--but the way he repeated it, and added a threat--well, clearly this was happening. I quickly lifted my T-shirt over my head. His eyes looked approvingly at my flat stomach and smooth skin. I lowered my basketball shorts and let them fall naturally around my feet--they were weighed down by my phone and keys, so they'd barely been staying up. I paused. I had worn a jock strap--an actual jock strap, not some fashion item--and I wasn't sure whether he meant naked or not. I realized for the first time that I was hard and straining at the fabric.
The boy was stunning. Beautiful body, face, hair, skin--the total package. Boys like this were why I was a Daddy. He stood in front of me, his hard teen cock trying to escape. I leaned forward, and reached my hand around his waist, pulling his body towards me. Touching his bare skin was electric, and he seemed to shudder, but I was too intent on his jock to be certain. I started licking it and sucking on it.
Fuck. Dude was going after my jock, devouring it. I'd seen this in movies, but I had no idea he'd actually do it. To be honest, it didn't feel like much, but the idea of it--this sexy daddy sucking on a piece of cloth that covered my junk while I worked out--was making me weak at the knees. Soon, his nudging had made my cock pop out the side, and he took it in his mouth.
His cock was fantastic. Not huge, not thick, but perfect for sucking...just big enough to be a challenge for some, but I was able to throat him easily. My nose nestled into his dark pubes as I inhaled the touch of muskiness that had started to develop there. My hands grabbed his ass and started kneading them roughly.
He was manhandling my butt while he treated my cock to genuinely new sensations. He was much better at this than the handful of college and high school boys who'd sucked me before. I allowed myself to close my eyes and had just put my hands on his head when, within seconds, I found myself lying face down on his bed.
His hands on my head had brought me out of my dick-trance. His cock was great, and I would have loved to have sucked it dry, but he wanted Daddy. So, in a few quick movements, I stood up and used the fact that he was off-balance to throw his taut frame face-down onto the bed. I got on the bed and enjoyed the sight. Broad shoulders, with a nicely shaped back, leading down to thick muscular thighs and calves. Even his feet were well formed. My goal, though, was that round, plump ass, framed by the white bands of the jock strap. There was a good amount of dark hair growing out of the crack, and I leaned down...
...before I quite knew what was happening, I felt his large hands pull my ass cheeks apart and his tongue lightly flicking my hole. This was new territory for me--hand-jobs and BJs had been it before now--so I tried to relax and just enjoy the experience. Within a few moments, his tongue became more insistent and started pressing at my ring. His beard was driving me wild, and I started squirming and pushing my ass back onto his face. Spontaneously, I moaned and said, "Oh, yes, Daddy." I don't think I was pretending anymore.
This boy's ass was incredible--a bright pink rosebud surrounded by dark skin and even darker hair. It was also very tight. My tongue was slowly loosening him up, but he clearly hadn't been fucked in a while. My cock was going to have to really try to get inside him. I reached down into my jeans and felt myself. My hard cock was ready. His asshole wasn't, though. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a bottle of poppers. I didn't use them often, but sometimes they were exactly what was needed. I pulled my face out of his ass, and unscrewed the cap. I grabbed the boy by the torso and pulled him up into my chest, putting the bottle underneath his left nostril as I did. I closed the other and simply said, "Sniff this like it was Daddy's jock."
Poppers. Okay. Lots of new experiences. I breathed in as he said. He switched nostrils and I did it again. Immediately, I started to swoon. My face and ears felt flushed as it seemed like all the blood in my body raced to my head. I fell forward slightly, but Daddy caught me, placing me gently back on the bed. He put the poppers bottle in my hand and said, "Only use these when Daddy tells you. Understand?" I was able to sigh back, "Yes, Daddy" before he began eating me out again.
His reaction to the poppers was exactly what I needed. His body relaxed, and his ring relaxed along with it. My tongue was able to force its way inside him, and as I pulled his cheeks as wide apart as I could, I tasted what lay beyond. The slightly metallic taste of the inside of a boy...I never got enough of it. I replaced my tongue with my finger, working it inside him as he moaned and writhed like he was in heat. To be fair, he was. I added a second finger, and I felt him slightly tense up, so I told him to take another hit off the poppers. While he was doing that, I reached into my other pocket and removed the condoms and lube. I took my jeans off, but left on my tank and jockstrap--great minds think alike. I put some lube on his hole and my fingers and slowly started working it in, first with one, then with two.
I was losing touch with anything except for the feel of Daddy's fingers inside me, probing me, opening me up for his cock...I wanted his cock so badly. I wanted his cock and his cum. "I want your cock inside me, Daddy. I want you to fill me up with your cum." I'd said it before I quite knew what I was going to say.
I stopped, just for a moment, my fingers lightly tracing his hole. "Are you sure, baby boy? Daddy has a condom here." He said, "No, please, please fuck me raw. I need your cum inside me. Please." His pleas drove me wild. I couldn't wait any longer. I removed my jock and lubed up my cock. On the thick side, but just over average length, relatively smooth, with only one prominent vein underneath. Many guys had bigger cocks--this kid's might even be bigger-- but I knew how to use what I had. I put the head against his pucker and started teasing it, rubbing the head of my cock around. I wanted him to beg for it again. He didn't disappoint.
"Please, Daddy, fuck me. Please, please, Daddy."
I grabbed his hips firmly--I hoped I would get the chance to explore his body another time--and slowly started pushing in. He was still very tight, and my cock head was not small, so I told him to take a few more hits of the poppers. I would stop if he told me to, but otherwise, I was going to use this boy's hole and drop my load inside him.
Ow. Oh my God it hurt. The poppers seemed to be helping, but he must have a huge cock. Fuck, it hurt so much. I knew that there was no such thing as a painless loss of virginity, so I took a quick extra hit of the poppers and tried to relax my muscles. With my free hand, I started playing with my cock--not jerking, just teasing, because it had largely gone soft. The poppers and the pleasure in my cock helped me forget about the pain, or at least distract me from it. I focused on my cock and my breathing.
So tight. Years since I'd fucked an ass this tight. Every cell of his body seemed to be clinging to my cock, trying to hold it, working to get me to blow. After a few slow strokes in and out to loosen him up, I started to pick up speed, but I knew I wasn't going to last long. I hadn't cum in a few days, and he was squeezing my cock like a vise. As I started to pump faster, my balls slapping into his, he started whimpering. I smiled and pounded harder.
The pain was definitely still there but my God, it was so fucking intense. All I could feel was his cock, which felt like it was a foot inside me, rearranging my guts. I was whimpering and realized I had started drooling because I hadn't closed my mouth. My head was still fuzzy from the poppers, and my ass ring was on fire, but this was the most amazing experience of my 19-year-long life. I gained enough control to say, "Yes, fuck me Daddy. Give me Daddy's cum." He started going even faster, harder, slamming me, and my whimpers became squeals.
The boy was squealing now and I could feel my load building. I slipped my left hand underneath him and felt his cock. It was hard and dripping, but he was barely touching himself. I gave it a few quick tugs. "Jerk your cock, boy. Cum with Daddy's cock fucking you up." His hand quickly replaced mine and I grabbed both of his hips, driving myself towards him at the same time that I pulled him back. My balls were starting to tighten. I tried to hold off cumming as long as I could.
I had only been really jerking my cock for a few minutes--maybe seconds? I had no sense of time, honestly--when the most intense orgasm of my life started building. "Oh, Daddy...oh Daddy, I'm going to cum...Oh God, I'm cumming!" I started shooting. It felt as if every thrust from this man's hard cock--Daddy's hard cock--made me spurt more cum. It felt as if I was cumming forever.
The boy was being rocked by a massive orgasm that filled me with pride and triggered my own. I brought his body back against my cock one last time, grabbing his hips so tightly in my hands that I probably left marks, and started filling him with my cum. I held my cock deep inside him as I came, only moving slightly to nurse the last drops from my cock. When I was finished, I nearly collapsed, falling on top of him and pinning him to the bed. We were both breathing heavily. I felt as if I might fall asleep.
"Uhm...hey...Daddy? Dude," I laughed a little because I realized I had no idea what this guy's name was and he didn't know mine, and here we were, a sweaty mess on his bed, my cum a huge wet spot beneath me, his cum lodged somewhere inside me, "I need to breathe, can you...?" He murmured a quick apology and rolled off me, his softening cock coming out of my ass as he did. I hadn't realized he was still inside, and I suddenly felt very empty without it.
That was close. I almost got a bit too comfortable, as if we had made love instead of fucked. This boy was amazing, but he was looking for a quick fuck, and that was it. Well, we'd had our quick fuck--and it had been amazing--but it was time for him to go. I stood up and grabbed the wet washcloth I had placed beside my bed and started wiping down my cock. "Do you want need to take a shower, dude?"
He wanted me gone. Fair enough, I guess. "Just a really quick one, if I could?" He gestured towards the bathroom--just down the hall--and shouted that I could use whatever was in there. I thanked him and proceeded to turn on the shower. I grabbed a towel from the shelf and sat down on the toilet. Most of his cum had already leaked out--I could feel it on my ass, and dripping down my thighs--but I felt as if I had to shit. I knew from the blogs and the stories that this feeling was normal, but I guess you never understand a situation until you're in it. I felt my hole--it felt pretty beaten up. I thought about wiping it, but figured the shower would be better. I stepped in, grabbed some body wash, and started wiping away the evidence of the fact that I had just lost my virginity.
He was only in the shower for about 5 minutes, but I had already tidied up the bedroom and gotten dressed by the time he padded back into the room, a towel modestly wrapped around his slim waist. He was definitely a very sexy boy, and he seemed like a sweet kid, to boot. I smiled and offered to get him a glass of water before he left. He thanked me, and I ran to the kitchen--I'd realized he wanted to get dressed without me. I was struck, not for the first time, at how dudes can go from begging for your cock to being afraid to be seen naked.
I finished dressing and walked down the hallway to the open kitchen/living/dining area. He was just coming back with a glass of water. His outfit, now that my horniess had subsided, looked kinda silly--but he was still every inch a very handsome Daddy. I took the glass and thanked him, before essentially chugging it down. Not sure what to do next, I leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, handed him the glass, and said good-bye.
"Wait!" I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but now he was looking at me, expectantly. "What's your name?" I laughed as I said it, hoping he would join me in finding the whole thing absurd. He laughed. "Blake," he said. And then, with a saucy smile, he added, "And yours is...Daddy?"
He laughed a lot at that. A real laugh. No role playing, no posing--just a guy laughing. It was maybe the sexiest thing I had seen since I got here. "No, my name is Ben," he said. "Nice to meet you, Ben," I responded.
"And you, too, Blake." It's amazing that you can still have butterflies flirting with someone who you literally were inside just a few minutes before. Still, I gathered myself and dove in, "So...would you be up for coffee sometime?"
A date! He just asked me out on a date! After we'd had sex! I couldn't suppress a smile--I didn't try very hard, to be honest. "Sure, I'd like that. I'll message you my number. Good-bye, Ben. This was...pretty great."
And he turned and left. I stood in the doorway, watching him walk away as he put his earbuds in. What's he listening to? I wondered. I wasn't ready to be done with this boy--Blake--not by a long shot. I doubted the coffee would happen. But maybe...
I waited until I felt like I was out of sight and opened Grindr again. I didn't check the grid, instead opening my exchange with Ben. I sent him my number. And a winky face, just for good measure. Within seconds, at 10:25, he'd texted me. "Hey, this is Ben. I agree--it was definitely pretty great. Coffee this weekend? Xox" I'd lost my virginity--and maybe met my first boyfriend?--all in the same night. Maybe it paid--just for a while--to be someone else.