Alex did this for me

I’m James, male, 35 when this happened, but this is Alex’s account of the first time we fucked, written for me a few days after it happened.

I’m sure Alex won’t mind me sharing this with you. Sometime I’ll try to write down what it felt like for me too.

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We went into JamesÆ bedroom and I sat down on the edge of the bed. All the way back to the house weÆd been talking about what we were going to do, but suddenly when to came to it I didnÆt know what to say. I was a virgin and he was a man whoÆd fucked many times before. Our roles were written for us. He was going to teach me all about it, and I was hungry to learn.

He stood in front of me and kissed me tenderly on the forehead, and stroked my cheek with his knuckles. Then he leant down to tug gently at my t-shirt, pulling it up my back and over my head, so that my arms came up, almost as though I were a child he was helping to undress. I could smell his sweat. Somewhere just in front of my face, I was sure, his cock was straining against his jeans, but I did not dare look. Instead I looked up, making and losing eye contact in rapid succession. I saw his tongue flip out and moisten his lips. His hand as it dropped the t-shirt on the bed beside me was trembling.

I wasnÆt wearing anything under my t-shirt. He paused to look at me, then stroked me under the chin and downwards. I caught my breath as he touched my nipple for the first time. It was hard with pumped blood and seemed to burst with the sensation of his touch. He pressed his hand against me there, moving the soft flesh slightly upwards with the pressure, and squeezing my taut nipple between two fingers.

– YouÆre beautiful, Alex, he said.

I stood up in front of him and pulled his t-shirt up. As we had walked towards the house we had promised to undress one another quickly, down to our undershorts, and then to savour slowly the process of finding what we each had inside. IÆd seen him before, I said, nearly naked, and indeed many years before IÆd seen him fully naked, when he used to take my brother and I to the swimming pool, and IÆd sometimes go in the same communal changing room when he was dressing. He helped me take his t-shirt off, and stood there while I briefly stroked his chest, feeling whether his nipples were as taut as mine, and tracing quickly the line of hair that ran from his navel downwards. Then I flipped open the top button of his jeans, and he did the same for me. Now I could no longer delay the delicious moment of becoming aware of his penis. It was standing vertical in his close-fitting white briefs, its head presented to my attention immediately below my fingers as I freed the second button. Pre-cum had already saturated the taut white cloth, and made it almost transparent, so the pinky-purple of his unsheathed head was clear to see. I was vividly aware that I was equally as moist, equally eager to escape my underwear and be inspected by him.

He dropped my jeans to the floor, and his own followed. We stepped out of them, and he pulled me close. His erection was thrust against my crutch, and what struck me first was not how hard it was, or how big (though it was both of these), but how hot. His hands went behind my back, one between my shoulder-blades, the other at the top of my arse, and he held me still and pressed forward, his breath coming in short bursts against my neck.

– I want you, Alex, he whispered.
– I know. I want you to have me, I said.

His lower hand went into my briefs and he spread his fingers across my buttocks. I willed him to slide the central finger down and in between, but he paused, stroking and holding me. He kissed me briefly, his tongue flicking in and out of my open mouth, but the touch of my lips seemed almost too intense for him to bear. His cock, as he thrust against me, began to ride out of his shorts. Looking down, I took his head between my thumb and forefinger, and with my other hand freed his genitals completely, and slid the last scrap of clothing from his body to the floor. I felt a moment of fierce power and vulnerability all at once – here he was, naked and incredibly aroused by my closeness and my availability.

– I want to suck you, I said, looking his cock in its one moist open eye.

For answer he simply lifted his hand from between my shoulders, placed it on my head, and guided me downwards. I didnÆt want to kneel, because I didnÆt want to lose the other hand that was on my buttocks, so I jack-knifed over, lifting my arse against his one hand while his other pushed my face towards his cock. I smelled it as it came close, then closed my eyes and surged blindly at it with open mouth, and felt it nestle in the back of my throat. My lips closed on it and pressed gently. His hand in my hair caressed me to a rhythm, and gentle head-sway to and fro which took his penis half-and-inch out, half-an-inch in. His other hand jerked and pressed against my outthrust arse, but still he would not touch me in between. I screamed silently for him to do it, to touch me there where I wanted so badly to be fucked, but with my throat full of his erection I could not make a sound.

– Oh, Sandy, thatÆs incredible, he gasped, calling me by the name all my family had used for me until I was thirteen, when I had rebelled against it.

I released him from my mouth, warned by the sound of his voice he could be close to coming, and though one day I would want to have him there when his orgasm came, today I wanted it somewhere else, and was desperate that once it came it might end his passion for me. Raised to trembling-pitch by my sucking, his prick when it came out of my mouth was pointing at eleven oÆclock, fully distended and glistening with my saliva. As I stood up against him he took me by the shoulder and pushed me back onto the bed. I didnÆt resist; I let my limbs fall just where they fell. He took my pants (in England we call the last piece of underwear pants) in both hands and pulled them down, throwing them somewhere behind him in one movement, then swinging back to pull my knees apart and climb onto the bed between my legs. He looked me up and down, particularly down.

– Touch me, I said.
– Where do you want me to touch you? he asked, though I could feel his eye already on the spot.

I reached out and took his hand, selected his index finger, put it to my mouth and sucked it briefly, then guided it to my hole.

– There, I said.

He didnÆt do it at once. For an agonising moment he took his hand away, creating in me a desperate fear that IÆd gone too far, that he wouldnÆt do this, that this was something he just wouldnÆt do. But his eyes told me different. He had me hugely open, my knees up and apart, and his hungry eyes were already drilling me open where I wanted his finger and then his prick to go. He seemed just as keen and fixed on that point of my body as I was. Exploration and innovation, and investigation of my external genitals, was clearly to be deferred for another time.

Why had he taken away his finger? First, to lick it. Second, to gather on it a great slick of his cum-juice, which seemed incredibly abundant although clearly he had not come. Thirdly, to mix it with a touch of my own less abundant juices, before pressing his fleshy finger-tip against my opening.

I say pressed not pushed, because that is what he did. He could have tried to ram it in, break me open, but instead it was as though he were lightly pushing a button that called for a door to open. For three, four, five seconds my virginity resisted, but only for as long as I held my breath. The all at once my breath and my body released them grip, and he entered me, and I welcomed him smoothly inside.

– ThatÆs incredible, I breathed. More.
– YouÆre going to need something to help you, Alex, he said. Something to make you more slippery.
– Whatever you need, I said.

Without withdrawing his finger he reached for the drawer of his bedside cabinet and took out a tube of lubricant, which he gave to me to unscrew. It felt cold on my fingers, and had a clinical smell, but I wanted it for what it would allow him to do that my nervousness, my inexperience, and my age might otherwise prevent. I offered it to his fingers, and he applied it to me expertly, and then to himself. He was ready; there was now nothing between us and doing it.

– Fuck me, I said, and he did. He had poise and balance, and he had my legs wide open, and I amazed myself by my capacity for him. There was a moment half-way in when the pain overtook me, and I cried, and there was some blood, but he kissed me and soothed me and never once threatened not to go on penetrating me, so I relaxed and fell back and opened out and flowed around him, till his thick black hair was pushing against the inside of my thighs, and I felt his balls nestle against me.

– Come, I said.
– Not yet, he whispered, but his control was weakening, ebbing out of him.
– Not yet, he repeated, then, please not yet, and it was his own body he was begging to hold back, prolong the moment, and then it burst, and he filled me with a stream of his sperm, so hot and copious that I swear I tasted it it my throat as it shot upwards into my body.

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