P1: My First Blowjob (received, Not Given) free porn video
I don’t want to be a guy, but sometimes I wish I had a penis. You know?
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I sat amused as one by one he showed me his dildos. Friends, strangers, lovers, they’ve all said they felt very free and open with me sexually, like I’d never judge them—and I never do. But I hadn’t had a show and tell with a guy and his sex toys before. He had mentioned it and I had asked. I was curious. He was nervous, but with a subdued excitement. We were both a little drunk.
“And this one’s my favorite,” he grinned in a sheepish yet earnest way as he pulled out a realistic-looking cock, seven inches long and complete with balls. I laughed a little—I’m not sure why—as he handed it to me. It was a pale skin color, remarkably similar to my own, and rock hard but with a soft texture. Gingerly, I ran my finger across its veins, around the head, poking the squishy ball sack that hung at the base, taking care to examine it closely—the whole thing seemed utterly lifelike in the dim colored lights dangling above the bed. Nodding approvingly, I gave it a firm grip.
A strange desire overwhelmed me. I wanted to try it on.
“Can… I put it in my pants?” left my drunk mouth before inhibitions could stop it. I immediately felt silly.
“Sure!” I was surprised at the enthusiastic reply to what I thought an odd request.
Weirdly excited, I undid my belt buckle, unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down. Grasping the shaft, I nestled the balls of the toy in the pit of my pants, placing the base against the front of my black panties. With hands suddenly slightly shaky, I buttoned my jeans around the thing, replacing my belt tightly. I removed my hands and looked down.
I drew in a sharp breath--it was as if I just sprouted this long, hard cock that was thrusting forth from my pants. It fit perfectly within the slit of my jeans, and pressed against the front of my crotch firmly as it protruded straight out. It looked like mine. I instinctively grasped it with my right hand. It felt like mine. I pursed my lips together, unsure of what to do or say or feel.
It suddenly didn't seem as silly as I thought it would be.
“Lie down,” he told me confidently. I obeyed and leaned back, and the cock stuck straight in the air like a flag of newly conquered soil. I giggled.
“Can I suck it?”
The question caught me off guard, but whether by adrenaline or alcohol, “yeah!” flew out of my mouth before I had even thought about it. Immediately I laughed again to signify that I was aware of the absurdity of it all, how odd it was that I had stuffed his sex toy in my pants on a whim. I placed my hand self-consciously on the front of my pants, around the shaft sticking out between my open zipper as he moved closer. I thought maybe I should pretend to feel ridiculous, like that was the appropriate emotion in this instance. But I was excited. It liked the way it looked coming out of me, and I liked holding it. He seemed to like it too.
He placed his hand on the shaft and moved it up and down a few times, and I could feel it.
“You’re so hard…” his tone was indeterminable. I didn’t know if he said it for me, or him. I blinked and laughed again, a little fainter. He was taking it seriously. He knelt down beside me and brought his face to the tip of the cock, and from his parted lips his tongue brushed against the head.
My mouth dropped open and I was silent as he took the head in his mouth, gripping the rest with his hand and sucked. My self-consciousness melted as he flicked his tongue across the top, slid his lips along the shaft, and then swallowed nearly the length of the thing down his throat, bobbing his head up and down. The guy who shyly pulled his sex toys out one by one to show me was now blowing me with growing intensity, and I was extremely into it. My mouth hung open as I noticed my hips were moving without my permission with his rhythm, and I moaned in the sudden revelation that I was so turned on. He glanced up to my eyes and he could see it in them, and his dedication strengthened. He sucked my cock with such enthusiasm I swore I could feel the licks, the back of his throat—he whimpered, and the base rubbed against me with his increasing motion, stimulating me, making me whimper at how good it felt—as if the protrusion from my pants was my own. He looked up at me, his mouth wrapped around my cock, which made me shudder with pleasure at the sight. He watched me enjoy it. And I enjoyed it.
He thrust my dick down his throat, choked, worked the length of it and then did it again. I placed my left hand at the back of his head, ran my fingers through his short hair, then gripped it and encouraged him further. Once again he choked on it and I pulled his hair slightly, controlling the speed which he went down on me. My right hand was at the crotch of my jeans, holding the base of my cock. My fingers felt the balls through the tough material and pressed them against me, rubbing with the motion. I was lost as he sucked me--as I fucked his face. I was gone and could think of nothing other than how good it felt to have his mouth on my cock, and how good he was at it, how much he was enjoying himself, how I liked watching it, how I couldn’t believe it was happening, and how much I wanted and loved it. I bucked my hips into his mouth, thrusting it deeper down his throat. He moaned at this which turned me on even harder, and I whimpered in response. It was new and I was enthralled. I was shivering. I was afraid I was going to come.
My mouth was open, my back was arched, my breath held, the front of my jeans wet from the blow job, when he looked up and asked in almost a whisper, “Do you want to fuck me?”
I drew in a breath and bit my lip, and wordlessly nodded.
—————————————————————————————————————
I sat amused as one by one he showed me his dildos. Friends, strangers, lovers, they’ve all said they felt very free and open with me sexually, like I’d never judge them—and I never do. But I hadn’t had a show and tell with a guy and his sex toys before. He had mentioned it and I had asked. I was curious. He was nervous, but with a subdued excitement. We were both a little drunk.
“And this one’s my favorite,” he grinned in a sheepish yet earnest way as he pulled out a realistic-looking cock, seven inches long and complete with balls. I laughed a little—I’m not sure why—as he handed it to me. It was a pale skin color, remarkably similar to my own, and rock hard but with a soft texture. Gingerly, I ran my finger across its veins, around the head, poking the squishy ball sack that hung at the base, taking care to examine it closely—the whole thing seemed utterly lifelike in the dim colored lights dangling above the bed. Nodding approvingly, I gave it a firm grip.
A strange desire overwhelmed me. I wanted to try it on.
“Can… I put it in my pants?” left my drunk mouth before inhibitions could stop it. I immediately felt silly.
“Sure!” I was surprised at the enthusiastic reply to what I thought an odd request.
Weirdly excited, I undid my belt buckle, unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down. Grasping the shaft, I nestled the balls of the toy in the pit of my pants, placing the base against the front of my black panties. With hands suddenly slightly shaky, I buttoned my jeans around the thing, replacing my belt tightly. I removed my hands and looked down.
I drew in a sharp breath--it was as if I just sprouted this long, hard cock that was thrusting forth from my pants. It fit perfectly within the slit of my jeans, and pressed against the front of my crotch firmly as it protruded straight out. It looked like mine. I instinctively grasped it with my right hand. It felt like mine. I pursed my lips together, unsure of what to do or say or feel.
It suddenly didn't seem as silly as I thought it would be.
“Lie down,” he told me confidently. I obeyed and leaned back, and the cock stuck straight in the air like a flag of newly conquered soil. I giggled.
“Can I suck it?”
The question caught me off guard, but whether by adrenaline or alcohol, “yeah!” flew out of my mouth before I had even thought about it. Immediately I laughed again to signify that I was aware of the absurdity of it all, how odd it was that I had stuffed his sex toy in my pants on a whim. I placed my hand self-consciously on the front of my pants, around the shaft sticking out between my open zipper as he moved closer. I thought maybe I should pretend to feel ridiculous, like that was the appropriate emotion in this instance. But I was excited. It liked the way it looked coming out of me, and I liked holding it. He seemed to like it too.
He placed his hand on the shaft and moved it up and down a few times, and I could feel it.
“You’re so hard…” his tone was indeterminable. I didn’t know if he said it for me, or him. I blinked and laughed again, a little fainter. He was taking it seriously. He knelt down beside me and brought his face to the tip of the cock, and from his parted lips his tongue brushed against the head.
My mouth dropped open and I was silent as he took the head in his mouth, gripping the rest with his hand and sucked. My self-consciousness melted as he flicked his tongue across the top, slid his lips along the shaft, and then swallowed nearly the length of the thing down his throat, bobbing his head up and down. The guy who shyly pulled his sex toys out one by one to show me was now blowing me with growing intensity, and I was extremely into it. My mouth hung open as I noticed my hips were moving without my permission with his rhythm, and I moaned in the sudden revelation that I was so turned on. He glanced up to my eyes and he could see it in them, and his dedication strengthened. He sucked my cock with such enthusiasm I swore I could feel the licks, the back of his throat—he whimpered, and the base rubbed against me with his increasing motion, stimulating me, making me whimper at how good it felt—as if the protrusion from my pants was my own. He looked up at me, his mouth wrapped around my cock, which made me shudder with pleasure at the sight. He watched me enjoy it. And I enjoyed it.
He thrust my dick down his throat, choked, worked the length of it and then did it again. I placed my left hand at the back of his head, ran my fingers through his short hair, then gripped it and encouraged him further. Once again he choked on it and I pulled his hair slightly, controlling the speed which he went down on me. My right hand was at the crotch of my jeans, holding the base of my cock. My fingers felt the balls through the tough material and pressed them against me, rubbing with the motion. I was lost as he sucked me--as I fucked his face. I was gone and could think of nothing other than how good it felt to have his mouth on my cock, and how good he was at it, how much he was enjoying himself, how I liked watching it, how I couldn’t believe it was happening, and how much I wanted and loved it. I bucked my hips into his mouth, thrusting it deeper down his throat. He moaned at this which turned me on even harder, and I whimpered in response. It was new and I was enthralled. I was shivering. I was afraid I was going to come.
My mouth was open, my back was arched, my breath held, the front of my jeans wet from the blow job, when he looked up and asked in almost a whisper, “Do you want to fuck me?”
I drew in a breath and bit my lip, and wordlessly nodded.
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