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Click hereBi-sexual desire has a way of sneaking up on a man and hitting him from the blind side. My junior year in college I was at the pub with "our gang," and came to sudden recognition that Bryan Colter was beautiful. That night it really hit me. Bryan was a beautiful young man. I couldn't take my eyes off his face, the lively animation, the sparkle of his eyes and smile, and I wanted to kiss him.
I had known him for a few months. He was very popular with the girls, and was seriously attached to one. In fact, I was too, in love with a girl I thought I might some day marry. She sat beside me the very moment I felt that surge of desire to kiss Bryan. Memories of Andy, and after three years my first serious dislocation, with my woman sitting beside me.
From then on I began to look at Bryan with a single focus of kissing his lips and making love with him. He betrayed no hint he was bi or gay, but he was not a homophobe either. In short, until proven otherwise, he had the status of possibility for me, and I began a stealthy, calculated, extremely patient seduction. I gave him exclusive attention in the midst of general chatter, lingering and infatuated eye contact. I cut him from the herd as often as possible to be alone with him. In time I made "dates" with him, for coffee, a beer, cram studies for exams. In the way of college life we became very close buddies. Once, after my planned "date," we left a bar in a tipsy state, laughing like crazy over accumulated jokes and fun of the night, and on the corner of our parting ways we did that impulsive hug that society allows drunken men. It was a full frontal, tightly clasped hug, body to body, and a perfect night cap to our evening. For we both were sober enough for the body to body hug to leave an imprint on his sub-conscious, and a deep imprint on my full awareness.
Bryan became a regular visitor to my apartment. Our conversations had wide range and free flow. We eased into intimate details of sex with our girls. We drifted into the topic of gay boys on campus, which seemed to be a large number. Bryan admitted some curiosity about cock sucking, specifically the reason for doing it. What makes a guy want to? Curious, but something he couldn't see himself doing.
"I wouldn't even know how to go about it," He said.
"I could teach you if you like," I said.
The penny dropped. The line in the sand. Make or break. Bryan gave me a stunned look. "You've... you've done it?"
"My senior year in high school. My best buddy. A discovery by pure accident, but after a few repeats I learned how to go about it. He was my first and last. No other guy since him."
"That's the last thing I would have imagined about you."
"No one else in the world knows, except you now. I trust you to keep my secret as deeply buried as I do."
"Of course. You can trust me on that." He suddenly seemed very wobbly, disoriented. "You sucked his cock?"
"Several times. Swallowed his cum."
"You like it then."
"It was an extremely exciting and enjoyable experience. Two eighteen year old boys who had never had a homosexual fantasy suddenly discovering the miracle of it."
He gave me a long steady look, and there was no censure at all. His look was filled with wonder. "I admit I have wondered about sucking a cock from time to time. I doubt I have the nerve to do it."
I gave him a warm inviting smile and left the ball in his court. I had planted the seed and I could do no more than wait to see if it would sprout and grow. I was certain his "curiosity" was far greater than he was letting on.
In following days my revealed secret proved no damage to our relationship. Instead, Bryan was even more sunny and vivacious, and some of his smiles, saved exclusively for me, had a flavor of knowing mischief.
One evening he called my cell, said he was at loose ends, and if I was free he would drop over. Free as a bird. What time? Around seven. I timed my shower for around seven. When he knocked I went towel wrapped and dripping to the door. "Just got back from the gym," I lied.
Gym. Shower. Guy thing. I dried off in the door way of my bedroom, while doing innocuous conversation with him in an easy chair in the sitting room. Acting totally unselfconscious of my nude exhibition. Typical guy thing. He gave prolonged glances to my body, with unconcealed admiration and possibly envy. I am not muscle bound, but I am well toned and defined, and I'm very well hung. Many girls had said so, in an honest variety of direct and cryptic ways,
I went into my bedroom and dressed in gray cotton gym pants and black T-shirt. I left off underwear. A strong intuitive sense was telling me my seed had sprouted and had emerged into sunshine. I fixed us vodka and tonics, stiff ones, and took a chair in the sitting room. Bryan really was at loose ends. Nervous and uncertain. Our chit chat was so irrelevant to anything outside the moment it only filled gaps in broken time. I sat low in my chair with my ankles crossed, legs angled to the floor, and Bryan kept glancing at the bulge of my cock and balls ballooning up under the soft gray cotton.
Finally he took a deep breath and said, "You said you would be happy to teach me how to go about it... with a guy."
Our eyes locked. "Very happy. We are buddies, Bryan, close buddies. We like each other a lot. You are extraordinarily beautiful in my eyes, if you will allow me to say so. Do you find me physically attractive?"
"Well... yeah...I guess."
"That's the starting point. Physical attraction, sexual attraction, the chemistry of desire."
"You are very good looking. Attractive."
"Is tonight the night? Have you made the choice? Do you want me to show you how?"
"I think so. I've thought about it a lot. That's about all I thought about for many days. That's why I called you and came over. I'm scared half out of my wits. I have no idea what to do."
"What would you do with a girl you were hot for at the right time and place?"
He silently reviewed all the common details of first encounter with a willing girl, and gave me a slightly puzzled look.
"It's really the same, Bryan. Boy girl. Boy boy. It's basically the same."
I stood and walked to him, took his hand and pulled him upright. "One step at a time," I said. "If it can't work for you, say stop at any time, and I will stop."
I hugged him tightly against me. "Man to man. Body to body. Feel it. Like it. Want it." I whispered in his ear. My cock grew long and rigid down the leg of my gym pants. He shied from the contact. I kissed his ears and neck with gentle lips and hot breath. He shivered like he was freezing, but his body was searing hot. He tightened his arms around me in a wild desperation.
"I'm going to kiss your lips," I whispered.
He opened his blue eyes wide and blinked, and was incapable of doing anything else. I touched my lips to his and kissed him, my dream of the past weeks come true. He let it happen, then slowly yielded and fully engaged in the kiss, lips parting, tongue exploring, lost in the unimaginable wonder of kissing another male. The sexual excitement, the wholly unexpected thrill of kissing another boy. The kiss that says I want you, I desire you, but most of all says I accept you totally, all of you. The kiss that opens all other sexual doors. His cock got hard. He broke away with a gasp, eyes wide and glassy and dazed.
"Kissing another man is more exciting than you could have imagined, isn't it?" I said.
"I couldn't imagine any of this." He gasped. "I'm lost. All my boundaries are gone. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Man to man sex. So different. So very exciting. I'm showing you the way. One step at a time." I kissed him again, with hot desire and passion, my beautiful Bryan, and he melted into it and kissed me with the same ardor. Kissing the mouth of another male, feeling the hard cock of another male pressing his own. He made faint sounds of surrender out his nose, a man in passion with no more boundaries. We lip kissed and kissed ears and neck, back and forth, and time stood still. We kissed a long time, standing, sometimes lurching.
Sex is energy, and energy is heat. Sexual heat seared us both and made our minds reel and our lungs constrict and our blood surge in wild speed. And the ravishing excitement of a kiss, the meeting and joining of lips and mouths and spearing tongues and exchange of juices so natural in kissing a girl, was ten times more powerful in the lips and mouth of another young man. Because it was taboo.
"This is how two men go about making love. You want me to stop?"
"No. Teach me more." He said that in broken, ragged breath, holding on to me for dear life.
"Take your clothes off. I want to see you naked."
"Now?"
"Yes."
I went to the door and turned the dead bolt, to be on the safe side. I returned, and soon Bryan's clothes and shoes and socks were in a heap on the floor and he stood naked.
"Bryan, you are so beautiful you take my breath away."
I said that with full and spontaneous sincerity, for he truly was beautiful. As much so as any naked girl is beautiful. Just in the male version, that's all. He was composed of perfectly proportioned parts - shoulders, arms, legs, torso. His white skin had a satin sheen in places, and not a blemish on any part. He tended toward slender. His stomach wasn't ab defined, but there was that hint of wishbone running from his hip bones to his pubes that framed his flat belly. His body hair was so sparse it was detectable only in certain angles of glancing light. It was lighter than the sandy blond color on his head. His cock stood up at thirty degrees, and the sculptural beauty of it was stunning. A perfect cylinder, satiny white with a glistening mauve head, slightly larger than my memory of Andy's. "Utterly beautiful," I repeated. My words seemed to please him. He had kissed another male for the first time. That prepared him for a another male to gaze on his naked body and pronounce him utterly beautiful, for the first time.
I undressed with the speed of a magician conjuring a trick.
"My God you're huge," Bryan said, his eyes riveted to my standing cock, his breathing shallow, fascinated and fearful.
I took him in my arms again and he rested his hands on my shoulders. We gazed into each other's eyes, mesmerized. The blue of his eyes took on a deep intensity, with a flood of pin point lights. The full length of our skin and flesh and hard bones slowly pasted together to spread a hot wash of physical and sexual sensations from our feet to our heads. Bare skin, man to man. Our erections trapped between us coming to grips.
"Kiss me," I said.
It was an order, a request, a direction, an instruction to my student, and he obeyed without thought. He had lost all his cultural boundaries, and was spinning in a whirlpool of totally new experience. Sex with another male. He put his hands on the back of my head and closed his eyes and kissed me without reservation, totally into it, accepting, giving. He was mine.
I caressed his silky body within all my hand reach. His ass cheeks were round and solid. My hand found his cock and explored it. He whimpered and sucked my tongue. I was whirling with him in the vortex of experiencing sex with another male. I too had lost all my cultural boundaries. I was making love with a boy again. A boy just like me, in form and construction. We kissed a long time, until our knees grew weak.
"Sit down."
He collapsed into the chair, panting, close to hyperventilating. I went to my knees and spread his legs.
"I have to kneel before the most beautiful cock I have ever seen," I said. That was true, even though I had intimate knowledge of only one other besides my own. Brian's was aesthetic perfection of length, girth, coloration. I licked his thighs and my tongue felt the blond downy hair not readily seen. I licked upward, slowly, wetly. His legs jerked and quivered.
It was all coming back to me in a rush, my experience with Andy. Like coming home after a long absence and forgotten scents all over the house going straight to your brain stem and announcing you are back home, this is where you grew up. I buried my nose in his pubic hair and the junctures of his inner thighs and balls and sniffed deeply the smell. I looked up at him. "The scent of masculinity," I said. "Male groin. Cock and balls."
"I hope I don't stink!" he said with genuine misgivings.
"God no. All males have it, to some degree or other. Soap and water can't wash it away. The scent of masculinity. It might be the most intense sexual smell there is. You'll find out," I added, his teacher, shaping his mind. I buried my nose in his crotch again and inhaled his aroma. "Your smell is so sexy it makes me dizzy."
It really did. The smell of male crotch, olfactory essences of his cock and balls and pubic hair confined all day and now open to the air, a powerful aphrodisiac to my desire to taste his cock. I lightly held it at the base with three fingers. Pre-cum oozed from the tip. I captured the ooze in a tongue lap.
"Delicious," I said. "You ever tasted yourself?"
"No. Never."
More oozed out of him and I caught a dollop on my finger tip and brought it to his mouth. "Try it." He stared at his own secretion on my finger tip with almost cross eyed reluctance. "It's you. It want hurt you. Try it." His tongue snaked out to sample. He made little short smacks to find the taste. He seemed relieved to find the taste of fluid from his balls rather neutral, whether or not delicious. I was teaching him, shaping his mind.
And mine. Andy was my foundation of knowledge, but he was now a shadow in memory after three years. Bryan was new and beautiful and I slipped the O ring of my lips over his mauve cock head and down the shaft with a genuine hunger. I engulfed his cock. Old familiarity became instant renewal. The taste, the shape, the bulk of his rigid meat filling my mouth, nudging the opening to my throat, opening my mind to that dreamy state of sucking cock, worshipping and adoring it. He fell apart. He jerked and quivered and buckled inward and outward. He was ready to cum.
I squeezed his cock base hard to suppress and reverse the momentum.
"Did my mouth feel good?"
"Oh hell yes! Better than any girl, ever."
"Man to man sex is different. And very good. Once you learn and let go."
His cock gradually subsided from that ready to burst ripeness, and I thought he could go for some more. I licked his shaft from bottom to top. He hissed and whimpered. I sucked it again, and after two or three progressions I took him all and buried my nose in his pubic hair, his cock head in my throat. Bryan thrashed in his chair and sucked in a loud hiss of air. I held there for a second or two before gag reflex propelled me back up and off with a wet pop smack sound. Three years since I had deep throated Andy, and it all came back easily, naturally.
I stood and pulled his head close to my crotch. He was primed, and sniffed with his nose touching me at place to place. "The scent of man," I said.
"Different from girls," he said. "Sexy. Just as you said."
"Are you ready? To make that choice? To cross that line? To know?"
"I want to hold it a minute. I have never had another cock in my hand before."
He held it tenderly, like it was a fabulous treasure he studied minutely, in awe. My cock throbbed in anticipation, a live thing. He stared at it, absorbing the visual of shape and color, the heat of hard desire, the feel of the skin on his fingers. He was poised and still on a moment of frozen time within himself, like a boy on the high platform for the first time, steeling himself to spring into space and dive in the water thirty feet below. He launched, and there was no turning back He opened his mouth wide to take me in.
I knew well the onslaught of emotions and physical sensations that seized him then. The enormity of conscious choice and doing, the taste and texture and aromas, the bulk and heat - first cock suck. Deliberate choice of doing the forbidden. I knew so well. He paused to absorb it all, the sensory and the mental elements, his eyes tightly clinched, his jaws opened to the limit in a strain. He drew back.
"God. I'm not sure I can do this. You're as big as a horse."
"You did do it, Bryan. You crossed the line and took my cock in your mouth. It takes some practice, that's all. Lick it with your tongue for now, get used to it. Make love to it, to give me pleasure."
My words had good effect. "To give me pleasure" wasn't something he had thought of. All the onslaught of emotion and sensory awareness was swallowed up in the enormity of unimaginable first experience of hard cock in his mouth. To give me pleasure was a different motive. Something he could do and wanted to do. That snapped the last threads of his inhibition, gave him permission to love my cock for my pleasure. He licked lovingly, explored all over, learning the shape, the taste. His saliva flowed to make it slick and slippery, and on sudden impulse he took the big head back into his mouth and sucked with new purpose. He choked.
"I'm no good at this."
"Oh yes you are. You're doing just fine. The pleasure you gave me was very sweet." I pulled him out of the chair. "Let's lie on the bed."
We walked unsteadily to the bed. My arm around his waist in possession and control of beautiful Bryan who had come to me to learn. To test his overpowering curiosity. We fell onto the bed and interlocked our arms and legs in close physical, sexual embrace. He kissed me, entirely on impulse of minutes old discovery that kissing another boy was an essential part of having sex with him, of making love. Just as natural and rewarding as kissing a girl. Bryan without boundaries. He kissed me, possessively, passionately, in complete release and trajectory from an inner propulsion of desire that an hour earlier he didn't know existed. I had shown him the way, and he had discovered himself, and me.
Our hands roamed, explored, caressed, made tactile communion with the warmth of skin and slopes and hills and valleys. Boy to boy. On my bed. Naked. Electric with sexual thrill. Engorged with want and need.
"I want you," I said. "I want to pleasure you and take all you have to give me."
I positioned myself to take the beautiful sculptural perfection of his cock into my mouth and I sucked him with devotion and a sense of privilege. It had been so long ago for me. I remembered - or fully realized for the first time - that sucking cock is an ultimate form of communication. Having him in my control was a part of it, but the larger part was a recognition of masculinity. His maleness was my maleness. He was feeling what I had felt many times. The gathering forces of his orgasm were the same as mine. I was him and he was me, in a fantasy circle.
I sucked him deep, up and down, with no gagging at all. Dreamy with want. He shattered into orgasmic parts, jerking, buckling, hissing and moaning, hunching, growing bigger and harder in my mouth. Communication and recognition. "Do it! I want you to cum in my mouth!"
He did. His cock head swelled larger and very tight. He yelled a horse strangled yell. My circling lips felt his cum pulse inside his rigid shaft as it shot from his balls into my waiting and wanting mouth. It was thick and clotted and pure by optimum health and vigor, and filling, and I swallowed repeatedly to swallow it all. He made a final jerk to expel the last of his cum, and I savored the clotted texture and incomparable taste on my tongue in that split second of identity before I swallowed it down.
Bryan lay flat, splayed, and gasping. I knew in a short while he would come back down to earth. That would be the dicey time. When he regained his rational faculties from the common world, how would he feel? Would guilt and remorse chill him? Would he want to dress and get the hell out of Dodge? I held his relaxing cock lovingly in my hand, claiming it, while I studied his face. His breathing came down to normal. He opened his shinning blue eyes to me.