My First Man On Man Kiss

Following a moment or two, he straightened, asking in hurried, breathless tones to suck him, standing in front of me with his cock in hand, at face height. Sitting on the bench, simply too wrung out and immensely horny to stand, my right hand kept furiously stroking myself. It seemed simple to move my head and open my mouth, as he was already so close, and my tongue flicked out to his balls while my left hand moved up to feel his nipples. The smell from his crotch was growing more noticeable, tendrils wrapping deeper into my mind, its sexiness plain as I kept breathing deeply, wanting more of a novel male scent, the smell in charge of my mind, just like a woman’s when she is turned on.

His voice kept murmuring about suck him, so I tried to explain between licks along his sexy balls that kissing a man for the first time was the limit of my explorations, at least in terms of clear boundaries. Certainly we would keep playing as we had, since sex with a man was so utterly wonderful, and no question that my horniness was as apparent to him as it was to me. Saying such basic facts about sex, even thinking about the possibility of sucking a man off, tended to make me stroke harder, leading to ever harder to understand words escaping my lips, about how kinky good sex with a man was, which he seemed to understand, his hands stroking my head and face as he kept talking about sucking his cock, gently pulling me closer to his stiffened length. Being prompted this way led to a certain feeling of surrender, but it was still going too far, my turned head making plain my limits.

But even as my head turned regretfully, my free hand reached around to start feeling his hot, sweaty ass, riding down along the two cheeks to make my intentions completely clear. Drawing him closer even as my hand slid easily over him, my tongue moved, licking down to his balls, his hands relaxing, obviously enjoying the idea of what would soon be happening. Though still intending not to suck him, there was no reason not to do my best to make him as hot as he had made me. My downward moving tongue started to taste his thigh, then moved over to his other thigh, then back fairly directly to his balls. After a short amount of time, as he grew more erect, my finger now clearly circling its destination, his words about cock sucking began to fade into the sounds of a man losing his thoughts in sexual distraction, which had been my goal. At this point, I began to finger his ass, still teabagging his balls, and he began to press himself against my face, as my fingers started to penetrate his smoothly tight asshole, which began to pulse in a familiar way – he was clearly getting off on what I was doing to him. His head was facing downwards, though whether his eyes were closed or opened as I kept playing with my cock was not possible to figure out.

Having a cock so close, with such heady scents, made me almost cum as I kept stroking. The feelings of my sliding fist along the length of my horny cock made it easier for my tongue to move to the base of his cock, as my thoughts were again left far behind by what was happening. I began to lick his shaft, my fingers now a half inch into his ass, circling the rim of muscle, generally the most sensitive area. He began to press against me with his full weight, obviously weakening in the pleasure and wanting more. But as he grew closer, a certain awareness of my own boundaries returned more forcefully, barely keeping my tongue away from his cock head, preventing the temptation, so sweetly beckoning, to wrap my lips against his horny cock, and give my first blow job to a stranger.

Following this stretched out moment of weakening and reforming resistance, my tongue bobbing between his balls and shaft, I stood up, his cock in my hand as I placed my own cock against his slippery wet one, and began to easily move against him, our skin sliding without friction but with intense awareness as we began kissing again, comfortably, our cocks subsiding after such intense but uncompleted activity. Half turning him, his back slid against my front, I continued to kiss his neck the entire time as he moved, sometimes using my teeth, a hand on one of his nipples. After almost cumming while licking between his legs, my cock had started to grow again while kissing.

As he completely turned, my half hard cock slid along the crack of his ass and between his wet thighs, and it felt so good that it was impossible not to start moaning the same disjointed phrases about how good it was to have sex with a man, how horny it made me, how impossible it was to stop. With a hand on his own now stiffening cock, the other firmly rubbing his nipple, I began to move against him, humping him from behind, his cock swinging in the air as I pressed it tight at the base. fingers curled along his gripped balls, moving myself into paradise, mouth at his neck and ears, taste and scent mixing with the raw immediacy of skin against skin.

This was something truly new, as a certain feeling of raw sexual power grew as both of our cocks did, and this time, with the power flowing from me to him, powerless before the lust that was growing within my completely turned on body. He bent slightly, and started moving himself against me, trying to match the pounding rhythm my cock had started, as my hand pumped his stiff length. Straightening, moving a hand from his nipple to his hip, I began to truly ‘fuck’ a man, wanting nothing more than to have my own horniness dominate him completely, knowing how good surrender to a man is, having experienced already experience the same with him and his cock sucking. Reaching around, to make him enjoy himself as much as I was, finally began impossible, as my hand moved from his cock to his other hip, to move his whole body against me, forcing movement to the rhythm my cock wanted, even as he tried to match his motions to what my hands demanded.

I kept pounding him, utterly abandoned in an incredible feeling of freedom, a man underneath me, one who wanted to be there, his own turned on cock happily stroked by the stranger who was getting off with him. Awareness of what was happening added an entirely new level of undeniable thrill – this was true fucking, where the one the doing the fucking and the one getting fucked merged, without ever losing sight of a fundamental fact – both of us wanted nothing else, but both still knew who was being fucked, whose will was overridden by my thrusting rod. As I retreated from another peak, his pleasure clearly increased when my hand stroked his cock again in the same motion as my own, my damp hand sliding along the entire rigid length.

Though not always as we continued – sometimes, I would hold his cock tight at the base, fingers on his balls as I pounded him, his cock swinging each time my thighs pushed against his ass, my cock sliding so good between his clenching thighs, his hand on my cockhead, both of us completely turned on. This was truly male sex, the element of dominance and submission playing its own role in something oddly gentle and frenzied, though this was merely an element, not the entire experience.

Adding to what was going on, the porn playing half a room away kept drawing our eyes, both of us at times clearly watching the scenes while enjoying ourselves back to front, another new position for me, though one he seemed at least somewhat knowledgeable about. The sounds we were making must have been obvious outside of the room, loud moaning and panting, the sharp slapping of our bodies slamming, with words which seemed to float from deep in my throat, fragments like ‘fuck good hot..cock stop…cock fucking..a man…so good..hard fucking cock…man fuck…sex cock..can’t stop…man fucking…good…fuck…yeah.’ Words are always arousing, and the more turned on I am, the more easily they flow.

Yet, it did become possible to stop, after again almost cumming between his legs. He turned, and after kissing again, gently motioned for me to sit, as my legs had started to weaken from the work they had been doing – such obvious evidence of how physical our fucking had been was surprising. He was still standing, his cock near my face, inviting another chance to deeply savor the scents of sex, which had grown deeper and more overpowering. Conversation bridged another break, though this time, at a much more higher state of excitement, his cock in my hand. I talked, somewhat haltingly, about what had aroused me to reach this point, having such incredible and unstoppable sex with a man just met, a stranger except for like minded desires. Telling him about getting off so good from gay porn the first time, men licking nipples and armpits, and how good it had been to feel a man turn me on so completely doing what had first been seen years ago.

My hand had again wandered back between my legs, and after touching behind the bottom of my balls, an always surprisingly sensitive spot, my rigid cock was again well in hand. It had become impossible for me to leave it untouched for any amount of time, whether by myself or against him, a strangely exuberant desire overcoming any inhibitions. My side of the conversation became halting. My other hand had gone to his balls, and we started leaning closer together, talking about how unbelievably good sex with a man was, something I had never truly grasped before. This made him grin in the dimness above me, and he asked about getting fucked in the ass, his hand on my nipple, starting to tweak it so skillfully. Though the specific words were not easy, the thoughts flowed like honey, adding to the incredible horniness which had overwhelmed me. I began to talk about anal sex, hesitantly, due more to what he was doing to me than admitting such truths to another man, even one I had been having sex with.

However, with the conversation moving that way, the fact that I hadn’t brought a condom was a stark reminder that there was no way that such games were going to happen this time. As consolation, I began to again lick his temptingly close balls, feeling his soaked skin as my hands made patterns over his body. The sweatiness of our sex was almost unbelievable. We had already started to become damp outside in the cooled theater area, something which had surprised me at that point, but by now, we seemed somehow oiled, skin sliding smoothly as we rubbed and embraced, the feeling generated between his thighs for my cock unimaginable (which wasn’t in the least sore, a fact that didn’t even register then). Though it had started before ever entering the room, it grew more interesting, from simple dampness to slippery wetness, something which we both noted to our mutual enjoyment.

Certain rules were clearly defined, but other lesser concerns were disappearing. Such as how other men had been doing the same thing in the space we were now using, as I began to comfortably sprawl against the padding, no longer merely on its edge. Or what marks we might leave on the other, as his fingernails began to scratch my back as I sucked one of his balls deep into my mouth, my tongue sliding against skin stretched tight. After doing a thorough job on one, before doing the same to the other, I wettened the index and middle fingers of my left hand, my right hand occupied in jacking off. With my fingers again at his asshole, sucking his other ball, tongue and teeth playing together against a round and firm nut. He pulled back, which just drove me fingers in deeper, and again started talking about sucking him off. Though my tongue couldn’t resist again licking the bottom of his shaft, it was clear that cock sucking was not something I would be doing to him, remaining a boundary for another time.

Oddly, he seemed to understand the underpinnings behind the self-imposed rules, easily grasped when contrasted by how fantastic sex already had been between us. There was no reason to get greedy, and he seemed to accept my refusal with grace, kneeling again, beginning to suck me off, hands again reaching for my nipples, making me powerless against his talents and knowledge of what men deeply enjoy. Stopping briefly, telling me to kneel on the bench, he stood. Kissing became possible, his hand holding both our cocks, as I began moving my hips, our mouths attached again, a sense of completeness that was not interrupted when he started moving his tongue down my neck to my nipples, pausing at each, then slowly further down, his hand remaining on my cock even as his cock pulled away downwards.

Still kneeling, leaning back against the padding, his tongue was again between my legs, teabagging my hairy sack, his other hand stroking my thighs lightly. I was floating in pure sexual bliss, and as time went on, the glorious haze returned, the present removing all awareness of time or concern about getting off with another man. He sucked and stroked me, his fingers going from the base of my now slippery cock to between my legs, lightly touching my ass. At that point, having almost cum again, I shifted so as to be able in turn to kiss and caress him, our bodies pressing tightly, sliding against each other.

He asked me to stand, so with my feet now on the bench, my cock was literally in his face, a fact obviously suiting both of us. I leaned back as he took me in his mouth again, and felt myself grow against his lips and tongue as he made me hard again, after almost cumming for what was easily the 5th or 10th time, no longer able to count. At some point, I opened my eyes, and turned my head against the wall, watching the porn. I felt myself spinning into a hot whirlpool, the combination of getting sucked off while watching men have sex fantastic, and feeling the cum rising in my balls. I began to hold his head, saying ‘no, no’ as I approached orgasm, which then suddenly changed to ‘YES’ as I grabbed him firmly, pulling him against my unstoppably thrusting cock, wanting to force him as deep as possible along my turned on length, to pump him full of hot semen.

Almost surprisingly, this shift from passive to active actually cooled things a bit on my side, even as it seemed to inspire him. Several more times, porn completely ignored, I would try to stop his enthralling mouth from its magical motions, and end up losing control, saying ‘YES – YESSS’ and starting to fuck his face. Somehow, it was if he was knowingly amused by such behavior, both reverting to a core of sweaty male animal rut, with him underneath me, a feeling of power again pouring itself into the mixture, my hard cock the center of our universe.

However, the power of reversal itself had been part of how our game was played, and so stepping down, almost drained, half-erect, I kissed him again, the taste in his mouth from his cock sucking more intense than before, as my tongue sought to reach deeply into his wonderful mouth, his tongue doing the same in reverse. Finally breaking another bout of frantic kissing while our cocks played and our bodies rubbed wetly, I licked down his chest, pausing at his nipples, sucking and lightly biting them in turn as he held our cocks together, so slippery smooth against the other. My tongue began its journey downwards, leading him to again moan about sucking his cock, though both of us knew it would not happen, moaning which grew as my tongue slowly reached his cock, sliding down to again lick his balls. I was again sitting, and the smell reaching my nose was indescribably enticing, thoroughly primitive and male, truly equal to anything ever enjoyed with a woman.

Repeating what he had seemed to enjoy before, I moved a hand that had been holding and stroking his ass to my lips, wettening a couple of fingers – put one, then another in his ass, hand on his cock, which had been moistened with spit from my again ‘straying’ tongue, licking his balls while stroking his now lubricated cock, causing him to rock against my fingers, which also just happened to make my tongue slide again along his shaft, moving from his balls to the base of his stiff cock. As always, having fingers in someone’s ass made me fully erect, so after a short time, I stood again, at this point somehow silently regaining charge of our pleasure, turning him purposefully, his back rubbing against my chest, my jutting cock sliding so good between his ass cheeks. My hands were again on his nipples, my mouth at his neck, and at some point, he bent slightly, and reaching behind, pushed my cock through his legs again, starting to move invitingly.

This time, my cock knew how good this game could be, and after only a few strokes, the sensations began to overwhelm me, an unbelievable intensity again washing away everything except the urgent need to fuck him harder, his ass slapping against me. Our rhythm settled into a clear pattern, my cock pounding between his sweaty thighs, his balls against the shaft. It was fantastic, even better than the first time we had played this way, and it took me a while to realize why it was so good. He had been holding my cock against his as we moved, our cocks touching, each feeling the other, a game of cock fucking.

This was the first time in my life of wanting to truly fuck a man, wanting my hard cock to pound him to our mutual pleasure, him clearly the one getting fucked. A kinky thought, one without many overtones, except the shared truth that my hard cock was in charge of both of us, and we both loved it, my hands returning to his hips, positioning him while thrusting into the sweaty pleasures he willingly offered. This was fucking in a way never before experienced, though accidentally discovered, my desire building against his, his surrender to the pleasures of what was being done to him at the base of my own abandoned lust. I was freely riding the waves of ecstasy guiding my cock, only surfacing to dive in again harder against his now bent body, both of us grunting as we moved.

My hands gripped his hips as we slammed against each other, faster and harder, my back arched, standing at full height over a stranger, riding him, making him match his motions to mine. My hands firmly slowed his own pumping several times just before reaching a jetting orgasm, or afterwards, pull him harder with unstoppable force, taking him however I wanted.

On the border of cumming, I slowed to savor the feeling of his balls sliding along my shaft. He turned, starting to kiss me again, bodies pressing as tightly as possible, wanting ever more contact. His hands wandering over my balls and nipples, he began to whisper in my ear about cumming on him. Odd as it may sound, the idea of cumming on someone is something which has always seemed a bit beyond the point, somehow, something which too much porn seems to think is the peak of sex.

Not that I wasn’t still completely horny as he suggested it, yet the dawning awareness of dealing with the practicalities of cumming and leaving led to the conversation shifting, even as he kept on repeating how good cumming on him would be, fondling my cock and balls determinedly, his other hand running electrically between my nipple and under my now uplifted arm, hand on my head, lightly touching the curly hairs, a refined pleasure, one I normally have to show my partners.

Talking was difficult through the fog so seductively drifting over my mind, but I began to work out that cumming was something I needed to do, after putting it off successfully over so many opportunities. The idea of fucking my wife after such a kinky afternoon seemed an elegant solution, one which escaped my lips without my thought. And yet, at the point of mentioning my wife, I felt a charge go through me as we continued to grind more urgently against each other. Various details started to be approached as problems to be solved here and now. Cumming in the shower at home appeared the best way to tie together all the various open threads – how completely I smelled of him, how sweaty I was, the pressing need to cum quickly and hard. The smell of our encounter was overpowering, as we had both shared ourselves with abandon, rubbing and stroking as much as possible, kissing deeply, hands covering everything within reach. But the possibility of stopping at the local lake, and swimming nude, took care of the major problems, and with luck, could also be used to cover changing my clothes promptly at home, since they would unavoidably absorb something of what had occurred during the drive home.

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