I had always told myself I was straight, that the glances I stole at men were just curiosity, nothing more. But the night I met Kenji changed everything. He was twenty-six, slender and graceful with smooth olive-toned skin, jet-black hair falling into his eyes, and a quiet confidence that made my stomach tighten whenever he spoke. We met at a small international student mixer near campus. I was twenty-one, still living in the dorms, still pretending the ache in my chest when he smiled at me was just friendly.
We talked for hours that first evening. Kenji was from Osaka, studying graphic design. His English was soft and careful, laced with a gentle accent that turned every sentence into something intimate. When he invited me back to his apartment for a drink, I said yes without thinking. My heart hammered the whole walk there.
Inside his place, low lights and the faint scent of sandalwood filled the air. We sat on his couch, knees almost touching, sipping cold beer. The conversation drifted to relationships. He asked if I had ever been with a guy. I shook my head, throat suddenly dry. No. Ive thought about it, but never you know.
Kenji set his bottle down. His dark eyes held mine. Would you like to think about it less and try it more? he asked, voice low.
I nodded before I could stop myself.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. His lips brushed mine, warm and soft.
The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against mine with a slow, deliberate pressure that sent heat straight to my groin. My cock hardened instantly, pressing against my jeans. I felt embarrassed at how fast my body responded, but Kenji only smiled against my mouth and reached down to cup me through the denim.
Youre already so hard, he whispered. Thats beautiful.
We moved to his bedroom. Clothes came off piece by piece. I watched, mesmerized, as he revealed his bodysmooth chest, small dark nipples, a flat stomach leading to a neat patch of black hair and a cock that curved upward, thick and flushed at the tip. Mine wasnt small, but next to his it felt new, exposed. He knelt in front of me and took me into his mouth without hesitation.
The wet heat of his tongue circling my head made my knees buckle. He sucked slowly, one hand stroking the base while the other cupped my balls, rolling them gently. I moaned, hips twitching, trying not to thrust too hard. Kenji fuck, that feels I couldnt finish the sentence. He looked up at me, eyes shining, saliva glistening on his lips, and took me deeper until I felt the back of his throat.
I lasted only a couple of minutes before I warned him. He pulled off with a soft pop and stood, pressing his body against mine. Our cocks rubbed together, slick and hot. He reached between us and wrapped his hand around both shafts, stroking us together. The friction was maddening.
We fell onto the bed. Kenji rolled me onto my back and straddled my hips. He reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand and slicked his fingers. I want you inside me, he said, voice husky. But we go slow. Your first time.
He worked himself open while I watched, two fingers disappearing into his tight hole, scissoring gently. The sight made my cock throb against my stomach. When he was ready, he positioned himself above me and lowered down. The head of my cock pressed against his entrance, then slipped inside. The tight, velvet heat gripped me so fiercely I had to grip the sheets to keep from coming immediately.
Kenji sank down inch by inch, breathing through it, until he was fully seated. We stayed still for a long moment, both of us panting. Then he began to move. He rocked his hips in slow circles, grinding down so I felt every ripple of his inner walls. His cock bounced against my stomach, leaving wet trails. I reached up and stroked him in time with his movements.
The rhythm built gradually. Soon he was riding me harder, rising and falling, the slap of skin filling the room. Sweat slicked his chest. I sat up, wrapping my arms around his waist, and thrust upward to meet him. The new angle made him cry out, a low, broken sound that went straight through me.
We switched positions. I laid him on his back, lifted his legs over my shoulders, and slid back inside. The missionary angle let me watch his faceeyes half-lidded, mouth open, soft moans spilling out every time I bottomed out. I fucked him with long, deep strokes, savoring the way his body yielded and tightened around me.
When he came, it was sudden. His cock pulsed untouched between us, painting his stomach and chest with thick white ropes. The sight pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came harder than I ever had, filling the condom with pulse after pulse while Kenji held my face and kissed me through it.
Afterward we lay tangled together, breathing slowing. He traced lazy circles on my chest and asked how I felt. I told him the truth: scared, but also more alive than I had ever been. He smiled, kissed my shoulder, and said we could go again whenever I wanted.
That night became the first of many. Each time the nerves lessened and the pleasure deepened. Kenji taught me how to touch him, how to open myself to him, how to lose myself in another mans body without shame. My first time wasnt rushed or clumsy. It was patient, tender, and intensely eroticthe beginning of a hunger I no longer wanted to deny.
