Fantasyland
- 2 years ago
- 27
- 0
Fantasy Of A Fantasy free porn video
It wasn't that I was opposed to man-on-man sex. It's that I wasn't for it. I mean, it didn't get me hard, but it didn't turn me off either. I know this not because I sought it out, but a gal I dated for a while confessed she loved gay porn, and had a fantasy of a threesome, where she'd back off and watch the two guys go at it. This was years ago, of course, and being the open minded guy I was, I said I'd consider it, if, big if, the other dude was okay.
But, as I said, this was years ago, and we never got around to trying. She went her way, I went mine, and eventually found myself in another city, with a new job, and new friends. Some of these new friends happened to be gay, and that was cool. Sexuality was never an issue. No-one ever questioned my being straight, hanging out with women and men at a gay bar. Besides, that's where the best karaoke was.
And it was at that bar that everything changed. I say the best karaoke was at the gay bar, but, that's not quite true. See, there were really good singers, and there were really bad singers, really, really bad. And part of the fun was laughing at the bad ones. Including ourselves. Well, I started talking and laughing with some guy at the table next to ours, because our senses of humor meshed. One by one, my friends disappeared, as did his. And by the end of the night, it was just him and me, talking and laughing, too loudly, because we were shitfaced. Well, I was anyway.
Closing time, the last song was a particularly bad version of The Rose, and he had me laughing so hard my sides hurt. Kevin suggested we get another drink, and I was all for it, because the party was a blast, even though the party consisted of just him and me. It never raised a blip on my radar when he invited me to his apartment 3 blocks away; I just wanted more booze so we could keep imitating the final singer of the night.
Now, understand, I was at a low point in my life. My job sucked. I was underpaid. I hadn't had a promising date in a year. So, maybe, yes, I was looking for something new, and different when I let him steer me upstairs to his studio apartment and pour me another drink. And yes, had I been sober, I probably would have reacted differently when he sat down right next to me on his couch. But I didn't. I took a swig of the whiskey on the rocks and looked him straight in the eyes, almost daring him to make a move. Yeah, I probably knew what was coming. I'll freely admit that, even though I was too drunk to really remember it clearly.
I do remember him staring me back briefly, before putting his drink on the coffee table, taking my drink and putting it on the coffee table, and then slowly, ever so slowly, leaning in to me.
Was he good looking? Sure. I guess. As stated earlier, I never found myself attracted to men, but he wasn't hideous. And I kept my gaze locked as his face closed in to mine, only closing my eyes as his closed, and his lips touched mine. We made out for a while, me thinking something along the lines of "wow, his lips aren't awful", and "stubble. Huh. That's new." And I didn't stop kissing him when his tongue touched mine. Quite the contrary, I got into it.
Men kiss differently then women do. But you may already know that. Because I didn't resist, he was aggressive with his tongue. And it felt good. So good, I hardly noticed his hand on my inner thigh. Hardly. Like I said, I was drunk, but from there on out, my memories become more clear. Like the fact that my dick was hard, and he hadn't even moved his hand to it yet. And I remember my hand, somehow, had already found his crotch and was gently squeezing his bulge. It wasn't long, maybe a squeeze or two from me, before his hand was returning the favor. And that's when the tiny little voice of reason shrieked.
I broke off the kiss, and warned him, after a couple of deep breaths, that I hadn't done anything like this before. His expression changed from shocked to reassuring. "I know. Do you want to stop?"
I hesitated for about 3 seconds with my hand off his crotch and on his right pectoral, considered my current love life, my circle of friends, my life in general, and my current state of lust, before answering with a squeeze of his pec, and a full-mouth kiss. That tiny little voice whispered "He's a good kisser", and another tiny little voice corrected that with "He's a great kisser!"
We made out for what seemed like hours, but was probably about another ten seconds before he broke the kiss. He hesitated, staring me in the eyes, before saying, "We can stop whenever you want." I shook my head no, and leaned in for another round of tonsil tag, but he stopped me. Instead of kissing, he got down on the floor, and positioned himself between my legs. "Oooh boy!", my little voice shouted, "a blow job!" And sure enough, he opened my khakis, and pulled out my dick and gave it a few licks. But, the little voice went back to whispering, "Take him."
After the beginning of probably would have been the best blow job of my life, I pushed him back, joined him on the floor and buried my face in his crotch. He moaned as I nibbled and pressured his dick through his jeans, and was all too happy to help me open the fly. And then, there it was. His erect penis.
I'll spare you the details, which you can imagine, or read elsewhere, but I will tell you this: with just the head in my mouth, I knew I'd be sucking cock again. I liked the smoothness of the skin and the faint musky smell. I was moving to take more in, thinking about how soft it felt on my lips and tongue, while at the same time feeling solid, hard. But he stopped me. "We are wearing too much," he whispered, and I couldn't agree more. I tore my shirt off, my shoes, my socks, my pants and tighty whities before I looked up to him. His shoes, socks, pants, and underwear were gone and he was pulling off his t-shirt to expose his tan, not overly muscular, not overly hair torso. And with his shirt gone, I, straight-but-not-narrow guy, launched myself at him, briefly sliding my tongue across his lips, before latching my mouth on to his right nipple.
I kissed my way back down to his cock, and took as much of it in mouth as I could before triggering the gag reflex. I pulled back, and must have had shame written on my face because he smiled and said, "It's okay, baby."
Maybe it was the words he used, or maybe the tone, or maybe it was something locked deep inside me, but I remember a shift in my reality, and I remember standing up, holding my hand out to him, and saying, quite clearly, "I want to taste you. Take me to bed."
He gave me a bemused look, stood up, took my hand and led me over to the bed, where we stood, embracing and kissing. My hands running up and down his back, his grabbing my ass cheeks. I could feel my dick pressed up against his, and I could feel both of us grinding against each other. When he broke his mouth from mine, and started kissing up and down my neck, I lost it completely. I cried out in a low, soft voice, "Oh, god, fuck me! Make me your woman! Fuck me now!"
He pushed me back onto the bed, and reached into a nightstand for something before kneeling and nibbling on my dick. He nibbled for about an hour, or so it seemed, before making his way past my balls to the taint. Now, even the kinky ex-girlfriend had never gone there, and the untouched territory sent me to the point where I wanted to thrash from pleasure. But I knew I couldn't, because that would interrupt the thrash-inducing pleasure. My tiny voice made a note of that, and told me to look into bondage at some point, because it suggested the two stimuli were somehow related.
His tongue and his finger met my hole at the same time, and well, you know. I almost came, but his finger trying to penetrate me kinda hurt, and distracted me.
He pulled back, and while I couldn't see him, because I was flat on my back, I knew what he was going to say, so I headed him off. "Fuck me, Kevin. Fuck me before I change my mind. Fuck my pussy. Please, fuck me. God, I need this. Make me your girlfriend, and fuck me!"
Another day passed, or so it seemed, and I was just beginning to wonder about my words when I felt his finger touch my asshole. You'll pardon my language, but there I was, drunk, naked, flat on my back, legs spread, and had just basically begged a stranger to penetrate anatomy that I didn't have. And his finger was wet, sticky and cold.
I don't know why I referred to my ass as a pussy. I don't know why I told him to make a woman out of me. Maybe to my ingrained way of thinking, heterosexuality was the only thing there was, and if he had a rock hard dick, then by the power of elimination, I must be a woman. But whatever I was thinking, he didn't care. He fucked me.
And yes, it hurt. It hurt so badly, I almost begged him to stop. But the tiny little voice took control of my voice box, and wouldn't let me say no. And again, time changed. It took about a year for the head of that gorgeous rod to force its way past my sphincter, and continue deeper inside me. And I saw stars. It took the wind out of me, so much so that even the tiny little voice wanted to say "Stop!", but couldn't because I couldn't form words.
And when the stars receded, and my breath returned, there he was, dick deep in my ass, propping himself up over me, looking at me intently, waiting for a sign. I gave it to him.
"Fuck me, lover", sighed, wrapping my arms around his back, pulling him closer so I could stick my tongue down his throat. And as he shifted on top of me, he shifted inside of me, driving deeper, forcing my breath back out. I was vaguely aware that my own erection had faded sometime during the penetration, but was returning, the blood throbbing inside my cock. I wrapped my legs around him to draw him ever closer, reaching down with one hand to grab a buttock, knowing there was nowhere else for him to go; he was as deep inside me as he could ever be, but still, I wanted more. I wanted him to fuck right through me, it seemed, to split me, and my pussy in half.
And as he fucked me, as his stubbly chin rubbed against my neck, my mind went somewhere else. This wasn't a guy named Kevin, a guy I barely knew, taking my virginity, making me a fag, this was my man. And I was his woman. In my mind's eye, I was a woman, with high heels, stockings, a garter belt, tits free from a matching black lace bra, and long, beautiful, thick hair. My hands had long red fingernails, matching the color on my toes. As though I were having an out of body experience, I could see Kevin fucking this beautiful goddess, shiny diamond earrings, dark red, smudged, lipstick. It was as though I was watching a classy porn, while hovering near the ceiling, but I knew that sexy little tramp on the bed, legs spread, was me.
I could see her move her mouth to his ear, and I felt my lips move as she whispered, "Fuck me harder, baby. Come inside me."
I watched, and felt it as he complied, his pelvis moving ever faster, ever harder, his ass cheeks flexing with the effort, I felt it as he pistoned in and out of me. And then, like never before, I came.
I don't mean I shot my wad, because I didn't. In fact, my dick had lost all rigidity again. But nonetheless, I came. My entire body was filled with different colored stars than the ones I saw when he first entered me. And these stars weren't pointed. They were all soft, and warm, and fuzzy and beautiful. And they caressed every nerve ending I had, and many I didn't know existed. My breath left me yet again as the feeling flowed throughout, but I didn't care. The little voice had to remind me to breathe, and it came out as an "Oh GOD."
Kevin broke rhythm, and I drew him closer, "Please, don't stop. Keep going." And I almost added "Come inside me", but before I could say it, I was hit with another wave of soft, warm stars. Just the idea of him seeding me sent me into another orgasm.
He froze up, locked his arms as he propped himself up, and I knew he had come too. But I didn't feel anything down there. And I wasn't sure if I was supposed to. I knew from experience with women they always knew when I came, so I expected the same. But I was disappointed. Kevin held the position for a good hour or so, or so it seemed, before pulling out, and rolling over onto his back. I lifted my head as felt the twin sting of disappointment as I simultaneously realized I did not have a gorgeous mane of long hair as I had envisioned, and that he was wearing a condom.
Two orgasms, and I was filled with mixed emotions. Part of me wanted more, much more, many more, and part of me just wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until we both fell asleep. The tiny little voice was busy mapping out our wedding, what I would wear, how I'd have my hair done, what ring to pick out, where we would live happily ever after together, and how I could make him happy every day when he came home from work. But I was snapped out of my reverie when he grunted in the dark, and I heard the snap of his rubber popping off, followed by the wet sound of it landing in a small trash can next to the bed.
I rolled over and threw my arm across his chest, and nestled my head into his armpit. I waited until his breathe had slowed, before I started talking, "Was that okay, baby?" "Wonderful," he murmured.
"Did you like fucking me?"
"Uh huh."
"Was I good?"
"The best."
"Did you like fucking my pussy?"
He paused.
"Listen, babe. That was kinda hot, but, I'm... not really into pussy. I'm... gay, ya know?"
"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to know if it was good. You were my first, and I wanted it to be good for you."
"It was good. You got a nice piece of ass."
"Thank you." I stopped talking after that, and so did he. And as he fell asleep, I continued to think. And think. And think.
And after about an hour, a real hour this time, I carefully got out of bed, wide awake. No. More than wide awake. Charged up. Electrified. I sat on the couch for a few minutes before putting my clothes on, letting myself out, and finding a cab home.
I spent the rest of the weekend lying in bed, alternately trying to figure out what had happened to me, and masterbating at the memory of what had transpired, and the fantasy of what hadn't.
Ultimately, Sunday afternoon, I poured a bath, and shaved my legs. Just to see what it would be like. And then, I shaved my chest. And my armpits, and my arms, and my belly, and my crotch. And now, as I type this, I'm wondering how I can become the woman, at least occasionally, who Kevin fucked, and how I am going to find another man to fuck me silly like he did.
But, as I said, this was years ago, and we never got around to trying. She went her way, I went mine, and eventually found myself in another city, with a new job, and new friends. Some of these new friends happened to be gay, and that was cool. Sexuality was never an issue. No-one ever questioned my being straight, hanging out with women and men at a gay bar. Besides, that's where the best karaoke was.
And it was at that bar that everything changed. I say the best karaoke was at the gay bar, but, that's not quite true. See, there were really good singers, and there were really bad singers, really, really bad. And part of the fun was laughing at the bad ones. Including ourselves. Well, I started talking and laughing with some guy at the table next to ours, because our senses of humor meshed. One by one, my friends disappeared, as did his. And by the end of the night, it was just him and me, talking and laughing, too loudly, because we were shitfaced. Well, I was anyway.
Closing time, the last song was a particularly bad version of The Rose, and he had me laughing so hard my sides hurt. Kevin suggested we get another drink, and I was all for it, because the party was a blast, even though the party consisted of just him and me. It never raised a blip on my radar when he invited me to his apartment 3 blocks away; I just wanted more booze so we could keep imitating the final singer of the night.
Now, understand, I was at a low point in my life. My job sucked. I was underpaid. I hadn't had a promising date in a year. So, maybe, yes, I was looking for something new, and different when I let him steer me upstairs to his studio apartment and pour me another drink. And yes, had I been sober, I probably would have reacted differently when he sat down right next to me on his couch. But I didn't. I took a swig of the whiskey on the rocks and looked him straight in the eyes, almost daring him to make a move. Yeah, I probably knew what was coming. I'll freely admit that, even though I was too drunk to really remember it clearly.
I do remember him staring me back briefly, before putting his drink on the coffee table, taking my drink and putting it on the coffee table, and then slowly, ever so slowly, leaning in to me.
Was he good looking? Sure. I guess. As stated earlier, I never found myself attracted to men, but he wasn't hideous. And I kept my gaze locked as his face closed in to mine, only closing my eyes as his closed, and his lips touched mine. We made out for a while, me thinking something along the lines of "wow, his lips aren't awful", and "stubble. Huh. That's new." And I didn't stop kissing him when his tongue touched mine. Quite the contrary, I got into it.
Men kiss differently then women do. But you may already know that. Because I didn't resist, he was aggressive with his tongue. And it felt good. So good, I hardly noticed his hand on my inner thigh. Hardly. Like I said, I was drunk, but from there on out, my memories become more clear. Like the fact that my dick was hard, and he hadn't even moved his hand to it yet. And I remember my hand, somehow, had already found his crotch and was gently squeezing his bulge. It wasn't long, maybe a squeeze or two from me, before his hand was returning the favor. And that's when the tiny little voice of reason shrieked.
I broke off the kiss, and warned him, after a couple of deep breaths, that I hadn't done anything like this before. His expression changed from shocked to reassuring. "I know. Do you want to stop?"
I hesitated for about 3 seconds with my hand off his crotch and on his right pectoral, considered my current love life, my circle of friends, my life in general, and my current state of lust, before answering with a squeeze of his pec, and a full-mouth kiss. That tiny little voice whispered "He's a good kisser", and another tiny little voice corrected that with "He's a great kisser!"
We made out for what seemed like hours, but was probably about another ten seconds before he broke the kiss. He hesitated, staring me in the eyes, before saying, "We can stop whenever you want." I shook my head no, and leaned in for another round of tonsil tag, but he stopped me. Instead of kissing, he got down on the floor, and positioned himself between my legs. "Oooh boy!", my little voice shouted, "a blow job!" And sure enough, he opened my khakis, and pulled out my dick and gave it a few licks. But, the little voice went back to whispering, "Take him."
After the beginning of probably would have been the best blow job of my life, I pushed him back, joined him on the floor and buried my face in his crotch. He moaned as I nibbled and pressured his dick through his jeans, and was all too happy to help me open the fly. And then, there it was. His erect penis.
I'll spare you the details, which you can imagine, or read elsewhere, but I will tell you this: with just the head in my mouth, I knew I'd be sucking cock again. I liked the smoothness of the skin and the faint musky smell. I was moving to take more in, thinking about how soft it felt on my lips and tongue, while at the same time feeling solid, hard. But he stopped me. "We are wearing too much," he whispered, and I couldn't agree more. I tore my shirt off, my shoes, my socks, my pants and tighty whities before I looked up to him. His shoes, socks, pants, and underwear were gone and he was pulling off his t-shirt to expose his tan, not overly muscular, not overly hair torso. And with his shirt gone, I, straight-but-not-narrow guy, launched myself at him, briefly sliding my tongue across his lips, before latching my mouth on to his right nipple.
I kissed my way back down to his cock, and took as much of it in mouth as I could before triggering the gag reflex. I pulled back, and must have had shame written on my face because he smiled and said, "It's okay, baby."
Maybe it was the words he used, or maybe the tone, or maybe it was something locked deep inside me, but I remember a shift in my reality, and I remember standing up, holding my hand out to him, and saying, quite clearly, "I want to taste you. Take me to bed."
He gave me a bemused look, stood up, took my hand and led me over to the bed, where we stood, embracing and kissing. My hands running up and down his back, his grabbing my ass cheeks. I could feel my dick pressed up against his, and I could feel both of us grinding against each other. When he broke his mouth from mine, and started kissing up and down my neck, I lost it completely. I cried out in a low, soft voice, "Oh, god, fuck me! Make me your woman! Fuck me now!"
He pushed me back onto the bed, and reached into a nightstand for something before kneeling and nibbling on my dick. He nibbled for about an hour, or so it seemed, before making his way past my balls to the taint. Now, even the kinky ex-girlfriend had never gone there, and the untouched territory sent me to the point where I wanted to thrash from pleasure. But I knew I couldn't, because that would interrupt the thrash-inducing pleasure. My tiny voice made a note of that, and told me to look into bondage at some point, because it suggested the two stimuli were somehow related.
His tongue and his finger met my hole at the same time, and well, you know. I almost came, but his finger trying to penetrate me kinda hurt, and distracted me.
He pulled back, and while I couldn't see him, because I was flat on my back, I knew what he was going to say, so I headed him off. "Fuck me, Kevin. Fuck me before I change my mind. Fuck my pussy. Please, fuck me. God, I need this. Make me your girlfriend, and fuck me!"
Another day passed, or so it seemed, and I was just beginning to wonder about my words when I felt his finger touch my asshole. You'll pardon my language, but there I was, drunk, naked, flat on my back, legs spread, and had just basically begged a stranger to penetrate anatomy that I didn't have. And his finger was wet, sticky and cold.
I don't know why I referred to my ass as a pussy. I don't know why I told him to make a woman out of me. Maybe to my ingrained way of thinking, heterosexuality was the only thing there was, and if he had a rock hard dick, then by the power of elimination, I must be a woman. But whatever I was thinking, he didn't care. He fucked me.
And yes, it hurt. It hurt so badly, I almost begged him to stop. But the tiny little voice took control of my voice box, and wouldn't let me say no. And again, time changed. It took about a year for the head of that gorgeous rod to force its way past my sphincter, and continue deeper inside me. And I saw stars. It took the wind out of me, so much so that even the tiny little voice wanted to say "Stop!", but couldn't because I couldn't form words.
And when the stars receded, and my breath returned, there he was, dick deep in my ass, propping himself up over me, looking at me intently, waiting for a sign. I gave it to him.
"Fuck me, lover", sighed, wrapping my arms around his back, pulling him closer so I could stick my tongue down his throat. And as he shifted on top of me, he shifted inside of me, driving deeper, forcing my breath back out. I was vaguely aware that my own erection had faded sometime during the penetration, but was returning, the blood throbbing inside my cock. I wrapped my legs around him to draw him ever closer, reaching down with one hand to grab a buttock, knowing there was nowhere else for him to go; he was as deep inside me as he could ever be, but still, I wanted more. I wanted him to fuck right through me, it seemed, to split me, and my pussy in half.
And as he fucked me, as his stubbly chin rubbed against my neck, my mind went somewhere else. This wasn't a guy named Kevin, a guy I barely knew, taking my virginity, making me a fag, this was my man. And I was his woman. In my mind's eye, I was a woman, with high heels, stockings, a garter belt, tits free from a matching black lace bra, and long, beautiful, thick hair. My hands had long red fingernails, matching the color on my toes. As though I were having an out of body experience, I could see Kevin fucking this beautiful goddess, shiny diamond earrings, dark red, smudged, lipstick. It was as though I was watching a classy porn, while hovering near the ceiling, but I knew that sexy little tramp on the bed, legs spread, was me.
I could see her move her mouth to his ear, and I felt my lips move as she whispered, "Fuck me harder, baby. Come inside me."
I watched, and felt it as he complied, his pelvis moving ever faster, ever harder, his ass cheeks flexing with the effort, I felt it as he pistoned in and out of me. And then, like never before, I came.
I don't mean I shot my wad, because I didn't. In fact, my dick had lost all rigidity again. But nonetheless, I came. My entire body was filled with different colored stars than the ones I saw when he first entered me. And these stars weren't pointed. They were all soft, and warm, and fuzzy and beautiful. And they caressed every nerve ending I had, and many I didn't know existed. My breath left me yet again as the feeling flowed throughout, but I didn't care. The little voice had to remind me to breathe, and it came out as an "Oh GOD."
Kevin broke rhythm, and I drew him closer, "Please, don't stop. Keep going." And I almost added "Come inside me", but before I could say it, I was hit with another wave of soft, warm stars. Just the idea of him seeding me sent me into another orgasm.
He froze up, locked his arms as he propped himself up, and I knew he had come too. But I didn't feel anything down there. And I wasn't sure if I was supposed to. I knew from experience with women they always knew when I came, so I expected the same. But I was disappointed. Kevin held the position for a good hour or so, or so it seemed, before pulling out, and rolling over onto his back. I lifted my head as felt the twin sting of disappointment as I simultaneously realized I did not have a gorgeous mane of long hair as I had envisioned, and that he was wearing a condom.
Two orgasms, and I was filled with mixed emotions. Part of me wanted more, much more, many more, and part of me just wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until we both fell asleep. The tiny little voice was busy mapping out our wedding, what I would wear, how I'd have my hair done, what ring to pick out, where we would live happily ever after together, and how I could make him happy every day when he came home from work. But I was snapped out of my reverie when he grunted in the dark, and I heard the snap of his rubber popping off, followed by the wet sound of it landing in a small trash can next to the bed.
I rolled over and threw my arm across his chest, and nestled my head into his armpit. I waited until his breathe had slowed, before I started talking, "Was that okay, baby?" "Wonderful," he murmured.
"Did you like fucking me?"
"Uh huh."
"Was I good?"
"The best."
"Did you like fucking my pussy?"
He paused.
"Listen, babe. That was kinda hot, but, I'm... not really into pussy. I'm... gay, ya know?"
"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to know if it was good. You were my first, and I wanted it to be good for you."
"It was good. You got a nice piece of ass."
"Thank you." I stopped talking after that, and so did he. And as he fell asleep, I continued to think. And think. And think.
And after about an hour, a real hour this time, I carefully got out of bed, wide awake. No. More than wide awake. Charged up. Electrified. I sat on the couch for a few minutes before putting my clothes on, letting myself out, and finding a cab home.
I spent the rest of the weekend lying in bed, alternately trying to figure out what had happened to me, and masterbating at the memory of what had transpired, and the fantasy of what hadn't.
Ultimately, Sunday afternoon, I poured a bath, and shaved my legs. Just to see what it would be like. And then, I shaved my chest. And my armpits, and my arms, and my belly, and my crotch. And now, as I type this, I'm wondering how I can become the woman, at least occasionally, who Kevin fucked, and how I am going to find another man to fuck me silly like he did.
Anastasia
- 28.03.2021
- 8
- 0
