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My first man, My first cock

This is what I remember of my first time. 

I sit in the car, my mouth dry and my heart thumping. For the hundredth time I ask myself if can I go through with it. With a surge of determination, I drag myself out of my car and walk the couple of hundred yards to the address I’ve been given. I find the house easily. Shaking almost uncontrollably, I walk to the front door and ring the bell.

The man who answers is better looking than I thought he would be, even though I’d seen pictures of him. In his early thirties, he is dressed in baggy jogging bottoms and a plain blue t-shirt.

‘Tony?’ I manage to stammer as I watch him give me the once over, head to toe, his blue eyes taking in everything.

‘Yes, you must be Steve,’ he smiles. ‘Come on in.’

He moves aside to let me in his inner sanctum, and I walk into the hallway. I almost jump as I hear the front door close with a bang and an air of finality behind me, as if sealing my fate.

Leading me down the hallway, Tony tells me he has just made a pot of coffee and asks if I would like a cup. I mumble an affirmative response and so he takes me into the kitchen. We make idle chit-chat for a few minutes while he pours the drinks. While we chat, I sit on the offered bar stool and look around. The house is nicely decorated, clean and functional. Apart from the odd picture, there is little in the way of personal items or ornaments that I can see. The guy was obviously not interested in clutter and preferred simplicity. A guy who knows what he wants. 

We take our coffee into the living room and head for the sofa. I sit back while he sits beside me, turning his body so he can talk to me easier. He must notice how nervous I am and so avoids asking me questions. Instead, he talks mainly about himself. He’s thirty-two, works at a bank in town, lives on his own and has every Tuesday off. As he talks, I feel myself growing to like him. With his smooth voice and beguiling smile, it’s not long before I start to feel at ease in his company. I find that my initial nervousness starts to disappear as I join in the conversation a little more. We must be in sync, because we run out of small talk just as I finish my coffee and put the cup on the table beside me.

Updated: December 21, 2016 — 11:10 pm
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