The Virgin - Part Two of Two by Jess Sudhir
This story is true. All the details are correct to the best of my memory. Everyone in the story was over eighteen when it happened
There is a moment in every boy's life when he has been a virgin long enough. For some, it comes right after puberty, for others, well into adulthood. Nevertheless, it comes to each and all, the time when he is tired of hearing about sex, thinking about sex, dreaming about sex and scheming about sex, and is ready to simply go out and have a bit of it himself. From that point onward, every fiber of his being is concentrated on that one goal. He may even be driven to desperate measures. Such was the case for the boy sitting next to me. He had thrown aside a lifetime of prudence and obedience to go home with a complete stranger from the internet.
That's what made him so attractive to me. The entire ride to my house, I could feel eighteen years of pent-up sexual frustration pouring off of him in great lustful waves.
Not that you would have known it from his conversation. After the initial awkward silence, he had begun chatting voluably and nervously about every possible subject other than the bulge still visible in his pants. I soon learned that he was a senior, and that he wanted to go to the University of Las Vegas, for archaeology, but that his parents wanted him to go to a local college and study business.
When I pressed him, he said that he thought he liked girls, but that he had never had a girlfriend. When I asked him about boys, he blushed, and then admitted to having a crush on several pro-wrestlers. He liked the muscley kind of men, but he'd never been involved with anyone male either. He'd never seen another man's dick in real life before today.
Traffic was terrible on the way back, and my own frustration mounted. It was intoxicating just being that close to him. I wanted to reach out and caress him, but I didn't dare.
"You're definitely eighteen, right?" I pressed him. He nodded his head vigorously. "I swear! I'm graduating this year."
He looked closer to fifteen, but I wanted to believe.
As we passed a local park I told him it was a popular cruising spot for gay men. He shot me back that look teenagers use to indicate dismissive disbelief.
"You must be wrong," he said. "People play baseball there."
At long last, we reached my apartment, and made our way inside without encountering my neighbors. I put on a CD to hide any noises we might make, and there we were alone together, without any other barriers. Reaching out a hand, I caressed his rocklike dick through his pants, but he pushed me away. Now that we were here, he wanted us both naked as quickly as possible.
He was tired of waiting.
Have you ever sat in a park near where a couple of boys are playing frisbee? It's a hot day, and one of them decides to take his shirt off? And thanks to your lucky stars, it's the cutest one who strips. He's not built, or muscular, but there isn't an ounce of fat on his body. He's lean and trim, and his belly is tight, and he's too young to have any hair on his chest or more than a dusting leading down towards his pants. You try not to stare, but your eyes are glued to him. You wish he was closer.
Now imagine that same boy, fully unclothed, and lying on your bed.
"Can I ask you something?" he said hesitantly, a moment later, as we lay there, our hands exploring each other's bodies. "Am I... good-looking?"
"Different people have different tastes," I said honestly, "but to me --you're almost entirely perfect."
A strange look came over his face. "No one --no one's ever said anything like that to me before," he said.
At that point in my life, I'd had a number of blow jobs from men and women, but I had never given one. It was part of keeping to the straight role, I guess. Plus, I enjoyed the power and the control of being the one being serviced, of holding some white boy's head while I fucked his mouth. But here in the dark room alone with this gorgeous and ephemeral embodiment of youth, I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to try it. And so I did, sucking him in as he gasped and cried out in pleasure. And there was a certain power and control in that too, the power to make him feel things he had never felt before.
At length, however, he stopped me.
"Can I --can I fuck you?" he asked.
I thought about it. I really did. But it was a bridge too far for me to cross. Not to mention the fact that he was big --as big as I was.
"No," I said.
"Well then," he said. His voice was even softer and more hesitant. "Will you --you know --fuck me?"
Instantly my cock went rock-hard again. My plan, if you recall, had only been to jerk off with this boy. But with him lying there and pleading with me, I couldn't refuse. It was like a madness took over me. From that point on, there was only one way things could end.
If this were a fantasy, or a piece of fiction, I'd write it like this:
I plunged my dark, rock hard dick deep into his palely anticipating ass, making him cry out with pleasure he had never known. Again and again I thrust, until at last I exploded deep inside his gut. As his asshole spasmed around my dick, he blew his load too, a fountain that scattered cum all over the inside of my room.
Hopefully, dear reader, that last paragraph got your rocks off, because the truth was a lot less sexy.
Despite my pose of being the experienced one, I was a virgin as well, at least in one important way. I had never gone beyond oral with another guy. So often I had fantasized about fucking a willing young boy, but the reality of it was daunting. Inside, warning bells were going off in my mind. I knew I was crossing a line of no return.
Somewhere in my dresser I found a condom, but there was no water based lube in the house. He took it like a trooper though, relaxing his ass as I shoved my suddenly uncooperative dick inside him as well as I could. Once inside the sheer excitement and transgressiveness of it took over. I couldn't believe I actually had my dick up a high-school teenager's ass. A few tentative thrusts and it was all over.
I felt so ashamed. All my sexual experience with women had done nothing to make me a better gay lover --my performance had been as lousy as on the night when I had lost my own virginity (with my high school girlfriend) some seven years earlier.
But God bless the kid. He didn't act disappointed at all. He told me that it had been better than his imaginations, and that I would always be an "icon" in his life --the man who he had given his virginity to. Then he left me with one last image to treasure. He sat facing me on my lap and jerked himself off, his hot seed splashing all over my chest.
After he came, he was eager to leave. He got dressed quickly and I took him back to his car at the mall. He didn't speak much on the ride back. He had a dazed look on his face and the things he said didn't make much sense. As he got out of my car, I realized I had fallen in love with him.
But I never saw him again.
Good luck to you, Phil, wherever you are. You'll always be an icon in my life.
Comments welcome at jesssudhir@yahoo.com
Also, I've decided to reopen my fan group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/irotica -- for fans of my stories, and of interracial twink erotica in general.