Page 18 of His First Time
I think colors blurred behind me, like one of those old cartoons, that’s how fast I moved. From facedown, ass up to riding cowgirl – or cowboy, in this instance – and lining his cock up at my wet and loose hole in just seconds.
God, I could feel how open I was, how wet. The edges of my ass, sloppy and drenched. He’d ruined me. He’d turned my ass into his personal sleeve.
I sank down on him in one breathless go. He seemed to tickle the back of my throat, he was so deep. I expected to see his dick outline poking out of my belly when I looked down. I didn’t, but I did see my cock stir, rising yet again.
I was fifteen years past my teenage prime, when just a breeze flowing the wrong way would get me hard and force me to jerk off into a sock and hide the evidence. Left to myself once, I masturbated all day, an endless stretch of porn and naps and orgasms until I had amassed an impressive ten orgasms between sunup and sundown.
Fifteen years later, three orgasms in three hours could send me to the hospital. I groaned, watching my dick refill. If I had another orgasm, I might have an aneurysm.
Tyler guided my hips, leading me as he taught me how to ride him. I imitated what women had done to me, but adjusted for his massive cock. Up and down, up and down, in and out, and then grinding, rocking back and forth, taking him as deep and dirty as I could. He panted, and I watched his eyes glaze over, his jaw drop. He stared up at me the whole time, gazing at me like I was fucking amazing.
It made my balls boil. Made my cock rock hard again. I whimpered.
I wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to being thought of as amazing, as so fucking hot, or at being stared at like I was the source and reason for someone’s orgasm. Maybe it was the transient nature of my hookups in the past, the transactional relationship of a one-night stand. My partner and I, on those nights, had just been looking for release. We were vehicles of orgasm to the other. Not the reason.
Tyler looked at me like he was memorizing me, like each impale of my ass on his cock was rewriting his personal Kama Sutra. Everyone is somebody’s someone, right? Maybe I found mine at a hotel bar in a snowstorm.
And then he made my ass his personal sex toy.
His hands traced my hips, my abs, slid up my pecs. He pinched my nipples, and I jerked. Lost my rhythm. My hands landed on his chest. I slid my fingers through his chest hair. His chest was covered in hair, as hairy as I was smooth, a thick pelt that covered his muscles and went down to his cock and thighs. He was undeniably masculine.
I rode him until I couldn’t, until my legs gave out and they were quivering masses of shaking muscles. He kissed me as he rolled me over and laid me down, kissed me as he shifted a pillow under my hips. He kissed me as he raised my legs, hooking my ankles over his shoulders.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He kissed me again. His sweaty forehead pressed against mine. His cock stroked up my ass crack. Found my hole.
In this position, he went deeper than before, sliding so far into me he knocked against something. I jolted, but he had me wrapped in his hold, my legs locked over his shoulders, his arms tangled around me, our lips fixed together as we traded spit and breath. His hips slammed into me again, and his cock hit that spot, that wall inside me. I gasped, threw my head back. His lips landed on my jaw.
“Just a little more, Luke,” he whispered. “You’re so close.”
More pounding, more digging at that spot. I thrashed beneath him, almost told him to stop, to pull back, that it was too much. Not pain, but something else. Some warning, lights on a ridgeline warning of dangerous terrain. I couldn’t breathe, and I gritted my teeth, whimpering and clawing at his back.
Another thrust, and another, and then –
My body shifted. His cock slid past that wall, somehow opening it up,changingmy body, rearranging my organs to allow his cock to penetrate me as deep as he possibly could. And with that shift came a wave of pleasure, a tsunami of it, a typhoon unleashed upon me. I shrieked, arching my back again, my cock erupting between us and coating our chests, our bellies, our thighs. My cum became the lubrication he needed to grind us together, cum and sweat and our bodies pressed as tight as they could, his cock so fucking far inside me, ecstasy and euphoria blossoming out of my spasming ass. I screamed his name, chanted his name like a prayer. Wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on as he fucked me. The bed shook, the mattress squealed, and the headboard slammed against the wall. High end hotels like this weren’t the scene for headboard-slamming, mattress-destroying sex, but here we were. He was going to fuck me through the mattress, through the floor. He was going to destroy me.
His thrusts sped up, his body a blur, sensation strung out to another peak as I clung to him and crested again, my limp cock leaking the tiniest amount of cum as he fucked another assgasm out of me. My thighs quivered around his hips, and my stubby nails dug into his back.
“Luke,” he groaned. “Luke…”
That was all he said. His lips caught mine, kissing me, slamming his tongue down my throat and invading my mouth. I grabbed his face and kissed him back, and our hips locked together as he groaned into our kiss. I felt his cock swell and surge, felt him quiver. Felt his balls shudder.
He shot his load inside my ass. He kept shooting, so much cum pouring into the condom.
We kissed for what felt like hours, our bodies molded together. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move.
When he pulled back, I saw the condom, and I nearly fainted. It looked like a cup or two of cum had filled the head, enough to slosh down the sides of the condom, get fucked out the rubber rim at the base of his cock. White streaks smeared around his thighs. He grinned as he tied it off and dropped it off the bed.
“When is your flight?” he asked, lying back and holding out his arms.
I laid on his shoulder, throwing one leg over his thigh and resting my hand on his chest. I played with his chest fur, and his fingers ran through my blond hair. He kissed my forehead. “I have a standby at noon. You?”
“Not until five PM.”
My cock twitched.
At noon, I was flat on my back on Tyler’s bed, my legs spread, one ankle in each of his hands. He’d tied my wrists with my own tie and ordered me to keep them over my head. I was screaming, but he’d stuffed his boxers in my mouth. All that came out were muffled shouts of ecstatic joy. Cum pooled on my belly, two orgasms from that morning already fucked out of me as he worked on a third.
