Departmental Storeil Pennai Usar Seithen
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My First Time--Part I: The Blowjob free porn video
I was just 16 the first time I had sex with a man.
It was summer, and I was cycling into Halifax, training for a cycling race in the fall.
I knew, in the back of my mind, that I would finish near Citadel Hill. A local night cruising spot for gays.
I wouldn't admit this to myself, of course. But, for a long time I had heard 'the rumours' about gay-men, and something always tingled in me when I thought about it.
I ended up on The Hill near sunset--this, too, I had subconsciously planned, I suppose. I was tired, sweaty, and out of breath; but not so out of breath that I couldn't hike my cycling unitard a little higher up into my ass.
I liked the feel of the lycra as it tightened against my sweaty hole and let my cock and balls stick out to one side. I could feel te heat of my growing cock on my leg and I had to keep telling myself not to get too hard, too soon.
I didn't want to seem too obvious, afterall...
A couple cars drove by and I could tell the men--much older than I expected (although I didn't really know what I was expecting)--slowing in both directions to get a look at me. The one's going up the hill, away from me, kept looking back at me in their rear-view mirrors.
The look in their eyes absolutely titliated me, and gave me the courage--the desire, really--to keep walking to the top; the 'cruisey' area.
As I walked around the first bend I noticed a car stopped. There was a guy with the driver's seat back a bit. He looked like he was asleep. As I got closer I found out why: there was a head moving up and down on his crotch, and both the driver and the passenger's pants were around their ankles.
The driver looked at me, put his hand on the back of the back of the bobbing head and winked at me. I smiled at him. I couldn't help it, but I kept walking with my bike. My legs still taught from the ride, and, admittedly a little weak--although, I wasn't sure if this was simply from the ride.
A few more cars went by, and I slowed my pace so they could see my goods, and swayed my hips just a little bit more; but, although a few said 'hi' (and I said 'hi' in return--shyly and self-consciously, granted), none really stopped.
Having no experience what-so-ever, I began wondering if I was doing something wrong.
As I was dredging my mind for hints from the rumours I had heard over the years, I stopped to rest my legs.
Almost as soon as I did, a car stopped beside me.
I was a little lost in my thoughts, so when the guy said 'hey there', I was a little taken aback and didn't respond. I just smiled kinda dumbly.
He was clearly older--I didn't know exactly how old--but he had greying hair, so I figured he was at least in his 50's.
He looked to be tall, stocky build, and had a nice warm smile and manner about him.
"You cycling in from far?" He said congenially.
"From Bedford," I said "about 15 miles or so."
I was expecting--perhaps naively--that the conversation would take a bit of time to unfold, but he surprised me when he said: "A long way back...you want a lift..?"
Normally I would have balked, but that tingling returned like a storm, and I found myself saying 'yes' before I even realized I opened my mouth.
He got out of the car and went round to the trunk and opened it.
"Your bike'll easily fit in here," he said. And he stood a little aside.
I walked my bike around and lifted it to put it in the trunk. The pedal caught just a little on the trunk wall, and he came in behind me and grabbed a side of the bike. I felt his hand on my mine, but what really excited me was that he moved in close behind me and, with what seemed like an experienced move, bent me and the bike over and positioned it fully in the trunk.
I could feel him against my ass the whole time--this both scared and excited me.
Before I could decide what to think about this, he had already moved to tie the trunk down.
He opened the passenger door for me, and, as if mesmerized, I got into the car.
Once he got in he turned to me and asked: "The short route or the long route..." He just left the question hanging, but he never took his eyes of mine; and, I was transfixed.
Out of sheer inexperience and nervousness (not to mention sheer adolescent naivete) I blurted: "Whaa..what do you mean..?"
He smiled and replied: "No one comes up here dressed like that not looking for some fun." As he said this his hand slid across and onto my cock.
I would have thought I'd have jumped or simply froze, but, to this day, I remember I just sighed and kind of melted back--overwhelmed as the tingling exploded into desire. I'm sure that I almost blacked out, because the next thing I knew we were moving.
"The long route it i," and we pulled away.
We drove across to an old sports field that had a dilapidated field house nearby.
We got and walked over, under the cover of darkness, to a spot under the trees where it was even darker.
He moved in close as we walked, sliding his hand down my back and into my cycling suit. His hand was large, so he managed to cover my ass completely, and I could feel one finger against my hole.
I could feel myself getting harder and harder despite myself.
"You a pitcher or a catcher," he asked.
It must have been obvious because he smiled and said "First time..?"
"Yes, I said."
He moved in close and said "Hot." as he undid his belt, button, and then zipper in what seemed like one smooth movement; his other hand still firmly planted on my ass and holding me tightly.
My eyes transfixed the whole time to the bulge that was now being exposed before me.
There was an obvious, and quite large, wet spot, and I could see the outline of the head of cock.
So, this was pre-cum, I thought.
"Get down on your knees," he said.
He slid his hand from under my suit and gently, but assuredly, on to my shoulder moving me down.
I didn't need rumours, a diagram, or a lesson now. I had looked through enough magazines and had thought about this for a long time.
I opened his pants further with my hands as I moved my mouth in and began kissing his hardness through his jockeys.
I could hear him moan a bit as one hand went to the back of my head and pulled me tighter against him.
I was getting more and more excited and I began kissing and licking his stiffening cock through his underwear, paying special attention to the wet spot of pre-cum.
It tasted very good.
I don't know when his other hand slipped off my shoulder, but it did so he could pull his cock and balls out through the side of his underwear.
Something about coming out through the side instead of the top turned me on even more.
What excited me most, however, was his stiffness and his size.
My cock isn't small, a little above average--about 7 full inches and average thickness. I had also, discretely, seen many other guys cocks in the showers at school and the velodrome where I trained. But, I knew he was larger than I was, and this, too, turned me on.
He wasn't huge, but he was long, uncut. It was his balls that were quite large and dangled far below his shaft--the largest I had ever seen, actually.
He was also shaved bare, even though he, himself, was moderately hairy.
As I had stopped dry blowing him to stare at his meat (and, to see my first meat in this way), his thumb found its way into my mouth and I opened without resistance.
In one smooth motion he slid his cock into my mouth.
My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt it move into me.
I had wanted to try this for a long time, but I was amazed at how much I was enjoying it now that it was happening.
I put one hand on his shaft and he one on the back of my head, and I began sucking and stroking him--trying to get more and more of him into my mouth.
I won't say my first attempt at sucking cock resulted in me deep-throating him--that would take many more experiences and practice--but he must of known this because, although a lot of him went into me, and although he was insistent, he never put so much into me that I gagged.
He pulled my head back: "Lick my balls."
And I did exactly what I was told--licking each one while continuing to stroke his cock, then moving to the other.
All the time testing to ensure I wasn't being indelicate. After a little bit, and gaining some confidence, I took each balls, in turn, into my mouth--savoring the sensation.
"A natural, huh."
And, as I looked up, he was was grinning.
I would of smiled back, but, well, you know why I didn't.
I'm sure I had been servicing him for some time. Working his cock with my mouth and, alternately, one then two then one hand stroking him.
Several times I would pull away, noticing that he was long enough that I could stroke him with both hands. I got really excited just looking at his cock; knowing I was finally making a fantasy come true.
Once, while looking at his cock, he reached down andwiped the spittle dangling from my chin. I was drooling all over myself. Normally I would have thought that this would have grossed me out, but, instead, as I went back to work, I found myself trying to slobber on his cock, and over me, even more.
"Psst," as if in a dream.
"Psst," and I felt something brush my cheek as I came out of blissful sucking.
Without taking his cock out of my mouth I looked up: He had a condom in his hand, and a very large grin on his face...
It was summer, and I was cycling into Halifax, training for a cycling race in the fall.
I knew, in the back of my mind, that I would finish near Citadel Hill. A local night cruising spot for gays.
I wouldn't admit this to myself, of course. But, for a long time I had heard 'the rumours' about gay-men, and something always tingled in me when I thought about it.
I ended up on The Hill near sunset--this, too, I had subconsciously planned, I suppose. I was tired, sweaty, and out of breath; but not so out of breath that I couldn't hike my cycling unitard a little higher up into my ass.
I liked the feel of the lycra as it tightened against my sweaty hole and let my cock and balls stick out to one side. I could feel te heat of my growing cock on my leg and I had to keep telling myself not to get too hard, too soon.
I didn't want to seem too obvious, afterall...
A couple cars drove by and I could tell the men--much older than I expected (although I didn't really know what I was expecting)--slowing in both directions to get a look at me. The one's going up the hill, away from me, kept looking back at me in their rear-view mirrors.
The look in their eyes absolutely titliated me, and gave me the courage--the desire, really--to keep walking to the top; the 'cruisey' area.
As I walked around the first bend I noticed a car stopped. There was a guy with the driver's seat back a bit. He looked like he was asleep. As I got closer I found out why: there was a head moving up and down on his crotch, and both the driver and the passenger's pants were around their ankles.
The driver looked at me, put his hand on the back of the back of the bobbing head and winked at me. I smiled at him. I couldn't help it, but I kept walking with my bike. My legs still taught from the ride, and, admittedly a little weak--although, I wasn't sure if this was simply from the ride.
A few more cars went by, and I slowed my pace so they could see my goods, and swayed my hips just a little bit more; but, although a few said 'hi' (and I said 'hi' in return--shyly and self-consciously, granted), none really stopped.
Having no experience what-so-ever, I began wondering if I was doing something wrong.
As I was dredging my mind for hints from the rumours I had heard over the years, I stopped to rest my legs.
Almost as soon as I did, a car stopped beside me.
I was a little lost in my thoughts, so when the guy said 'hey there', I was a little taken aback and didn't respond. I just smiled kinda dumbly.
He was clearly older--I didn't know exactly how old--but he had greying hair, so I figured he was at least in his 50's.
He looked to be tall, stocky build, and had a nice warm smile and manner about him.
"You cycling in from far?" He said congenially.
"From Bedford," I said "about 15 miles or so."
I was expecting--perhaps naively--that the conversation would take a bit of time to unfold, but he surprised me when he said: "A long way back...you want a lift..?"
Normally I would have balked, but that tingling returned like a storm, and I found myself saying 'yes' before I even realized I opened my mouth.
He got out of the car and went round to the trunk and opened it.
"Your bike'll easily fit in here," he said. And he stood a little aside.
I walked my bike around and lifted it to put it in the trunk. The pedal caught just a little on the trunk wall, and he came in behind me and grabbed a side of the bike. I felt his hand on my mine, but what really excited me was that he moved in close behind me and, with what seemed like an experienced move, bent me and the bike over and positioned it fully in the trunk.
I could feel him against my ass the whole time--this both scared and excited me.
Before I could decide what to think about this, he had already moved to tie the trunk down.
He opened the passenger door for me, and, as if mesmerized, I got into the car.
Once he got in he turned to me and asked: "The short route or the long route..." He just left the question hanging, but he never took his eyes of mine; and, I was transfixed.
Out of sheer inexperience and nervousness (not to mention sheer adolescent naivete) I blurted: "Whaa..what do you mean..?"
He smiled and replied: "No one comes up here dressed like that not looking for some fun." As he said this his hand slid across and onto my cock.
I would have thought I'd have jumped or simply froze, but, to this day, I remember I just sighed and kind of melted back--overwhelmed as the tingling exploded into desire. I'm sure that I almost blacked out, because the next thing I knew we were moving.
"The long route it i," and we pulled away.
We drove across to an old sports field that had a dilapidated field house nearby.
We got and walked over, under the cover of darkness, to a spot under the trees where it was even darker.
He moved in close as we walked, sliding his hand down my back and into my cycling suit. His hand was large, so he managed to cover my ass completely, and I could feel one finger against my hole.
I could feel myself getting harder and harder despite myself.
"You a pitcher or a catcher," he asked.
It must have been obvious because he smiled and said "First time..?"
"Yes, I said."
He moved in close and said "Hot." as he undid his belt, button, and then zipper in what seemed like one smooth movement; his other hand still firmly planted on my ass and holding me tightly.
My eyes transfixed the whole time to the bulge that was now being exposed before me.
There was an obvious, and quite large, wet spot, and I could see the outline of the head of cock.
So, this was pre-cum, I thought.
"Get down on your knees," he said.
He slid his hand from under my suit and gently, but assuredly, on to my shoulder moving me down.
I didn't need rumours, a diagram, or a lesson now. I had looked through enough magazines and had thought about this for a long time.
I opened his pants further with my hands as I moved my mouth in and began kissing his hardness through his jockeys.
I could hear him moan a bit as one hand went to the back of my head and pulled me tighter against him.
I was getting more and more excited and I began kissing and licking his stiffening cock through his underwear, paying special attention to the wet spot of pre-cum.
It tasted very good.
I don't know when his other hand slipped off my shoulder, but it did so he could pull his cock and balls out through the side of his underwear.
Something about coming out through the side instead of the top turned me on even more.
What excited me most, however, was his stiffness and his size.
My cock isn't small, a little above average--about 7 full inches and average thickness. I had also, discretely, seen many other guys cocks in the showers at school and the velodrome where I trained. But, I knew he was larger than I was, and this, too, turned me on.
He wasn't huge, but he was long, uncut. It was his balls that were quite large and dangled far below his shaft--the largest I had ever seen, actually.
He was also shaved bare, even though he, himself, was moderately hairy.
As I had stopped dry blowing him to stare at his meat (and, to see my first meat in this way), his thumb found its way into my mouth and I opened without resistance.
In one smooth motion he slid his cock into my mouth.
My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt it move into me.
I had wanted to try this for a long time, but I was amazed at how much I was enjoying it now that it was happening.
I put one hand on his shaft and he one on the back of my head, and I began sucking and stroking him--trying to get more and more of him into my mouth.
I won't say my first attempt at sucking cock resulted in me deep-throating him--that would take many more experiences and practice--but he must of known this because, although a lot of him went into me, and although he was insistent, he never put so much into me that I gagged.
He pulled my head back: "Lick my balls."
And I did exactly what I was told--licking each one while continuing to stroke his cock, then moving to the other.
All the time testing to ensure I wasn't being indelicate. After a little bit, and gaining some confidence, I took each balls, in turn, into my mouth--savoring the sensation.
"A natural, huh."
And, as I looked up, he was was grinning.
I would of smiled back, but, well, you know why I didn't.
I'm sure I had been servicing him for some time. Working his cock with my mouth and, alternately, one then two then one hand stroking him.
Several times I would pull away, noticing that he was long enough that I could stroke him with both hands. I got really excited just looking at his cock; knowing I was finally making a fantasy come true.
Once, while looking at his cock, he reached down andwiped the spittle dangling from my chin. I was drooling all over myself. Normally I would have thought that this would have grossed me out, but, instead, as I went back to work, I found myself trying to slobber on his cock, and over me, even more.
"Psst," as if in a dream.
"Psst," and I felt something brush my cheek as I came out of blissful sucking.
Without taking his cock out of my mouth I looked up: He had a condom in his hand, and a very large grin on his face...
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