I met him online, he told me he was in his early 40’s. He was a bear but more in a cub sort of way. Definitely hairy, and thick. But not big. I was already taller than him. And I’m only 5-8. I thought I was invincible in those days, we met in my garage. I wanted so badly to be fucked for the first time. I thought that’s what every gay man wanted. I still remember the smell of his cologne and lube. The slight musk on his scrotum. I hate a funky crotch, hell I even put deodorant down there. A big man can never be too fresh.
I lied down and I remember feeling pressure, just a lot of pressure. Not so much pain, that came later. No memorable caressing, cuddling, kissing, just what felt like me unknowingly being take advantage of. (Sorry I thought this would be more sexy, so much for the truth.)
I don’t know if I liked it or not when I was actually in the act, I sucked him off for a bit, I did like that. Afterwards the guilt was crazy, and the disgust, he anted more from me, I pushed back, hard. Never saw or heard from him again after that. But eventually I tried being a bottom again. So far I’ve only liked it one time. Don’t ask why I kept trying.
Turns out I like being a top a LOT more. ☺
Anyway I’ll have a better story next time. Trust.
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