I never planned to tell anyone about that night, but the memory keeps pulling at me, demanding I lay it all out exactly as it happened. I was twenty-eight, living alone in a small apartment downtown, and I'd spent years pretending my curiosity about men was just a phase that would fade. It didn't.
One humid Friday, I went to a bar I'd never visited before, ordered a whiskey, and ended up talking to Ryan. He was thirty, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that didn't look away when the conversation turned personal. We both admitted we were curious. By midnight we were in my apartment, the door barely closed before his mouth found mine.
The kiss started slow, almost testing, but the moment his tongue slid against mine the heat shot straight down my spine. My hands shook as I pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was smooth and warm, the muscles shifting under my palms. I felt his fingers work open my belt, and then his hand wrapped around my cock for the first time. The grip was firmer than any woman's, sure and knowing, and I groaned into his mouth when he stroked me from root to tip. My own hand found his length through his jeans, thick and already hard, and the realization that I was touching another man's erection made my knees weak.
We stumbled to the bedroom. Clothes came off in a rush. I lay back and watched him kneel between my legs. His breath ghosted over my cock before his tongue licked a slow stripe from base to head. The wet heat of his mouth closing around me was overwhelming. He sucked me deep, cheeks hollowing, one hand cupping my balls while the other stroked what his lips couldn't reach. I threaded my fingers through his hair, not guiding so much as holding on while pleasure coiled tighter in my gut. When he pulled off with a wet sound and looked up at me, spit shining on his lips, I knew I wanted more.
I rolled him onto his back and returned the favor. His cock was heavier on my tongue than I'd imagined, the skin silky, the taste faintly salty. I learned quickly how to relax my throat, how to use my hand at the base while I bobbed my head. Every moan he gave me made me harder. He warned me before he came, but I didn't pull away. The first pulse hit my tongue, thick and warm, and I swallowed because I wanted to know what it felt like. The second and third followed, and I kept sucking until he gently pushed my head off, breathing hard.
He reached for the lube on the nightstand. I watched him slick his fingers, then felt one press between my cheeks. The stretch was new, intimate, almost too much at first, but he took his time, working me open with patient circles until I was rocking back onto two fingers, then three. When he finally positioned himself between my thighs and pressed the blunt head of his cock against me, I nodded. The burn as he pushed inside was sharp, but it melted into something deeper, fuller, as he sank inch by inch. He paused when he was all the way in, both of us shaking, foreheads touching.
He started to move, slow thrusts that let me feel every ridge and vein. My legs wrapped around his waist. Each time he bottomed out I gasped, the pressure against my prostate sending sparks through my body. He wrapped a hand around my cock again and stroked me in time with his hips. The rhythm built until we were both sweating, the room filled with the sound of skin on skin and broken breaths. I came first, spilling over his fist while my ass clenched around him. He followed seconds later, pushing deep and pulsing inside me, his groan raw against my neck.
Afterward he stayed inside me until he softened, then eased out carefully. We lay side by side, catching our breath. My body felt used and new at the same time. Ryan traced lazy circles on my stomach and asked if I was okay. I told him I was better than okay. That night didn't end our curiosity; it opened a door. We saw each other again, learned each other's bodies more deeply, but nothing ever matched the electric honesty of that first time. I still think about it when I'm alone, the way his cock felt stretching me, the taste of him on my tongue, the way I stopped pretending and finally let myself want what I wanted.
