So I flew from Richmond, Virginia to Fort Lauderdale, Florida just to bust a guy's cherry.
"I've never been fucked. I always wanted to, but never had the courage and well, I always wanted to be with the right guy," Tim told me one time before we had this visit.
It was time.
Tim and I met in 2022 when I was living in Bakersfield, as his company did construction up the street from my office (I'm an accountant). The day we met we saw each other in a gas station, just eyeing each other, but two chicken to approach as we both were men of discretion.
"You're a big guy. You've gotta have a big cock to suck, too," were his words when he saw me on Grindr that evening, and this would be the entrance to our first link as I hosted him in my apartment so he could suck me dry.
I landed in Fort Lauderdale on a Monday afternoon as I took an impromptu break from work, as every quarter I take two days off to keep myself refreshed, and this was no better time as it was winter in Virginia, but it felt like spring in Florida.
"Welcome to Florida," Tim said as he met me on the curb of Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood, as a torrential rain just so happened to drop once I landed.
We hopped in his pickup after he had me toss the bag in the covered bed of the truck, and he skirted off, the both of us happy we were able to hang again.
"How was your flight," he asked me.
"Not too bad. Didn't get weird until we made it here, with the landing," I told him.
Tim taught me I could open my palate of men I usually played with in his five foot eight, 170 lb. frame. The proud Irish bred, southern fed bottom had a girlfriend on the side, but claimed bisexual under the surface as he'd learned a few years earlier that enjoyed playing with cock. We drove a bit before he stopped on the side of the highway, and he raised his middle console to kiss me like we were a couple and one of us just returned from deployment. Tim was a friend, but we forged a connection that made me miss him, as he did more in blowing me than with guys I'd been in relationships with.
"Here's my humble abode," he said, as we pulled in front of large, brick structure just a few feet from a canal.
"I'll bet you get gators on a regular here," I told him.
"We do, but they don't bother anyone. They only go from one river to the other, cutting through the side streets for short cuts. I've ridden my bikes and jogged past them plenty of times, even stopped to stare, and they retreat. They only cause trouble when its given," he said.
The rain fell harder and me being paranoid, looked down out of the truck to ensure one didn't pop up as I tried to exit and make it to the house. Tim rushed out of the truck and opened the bed door to grab my bag, then showed his agility as he darted to the front door and into the house, waving for me to join him.
"Get your ass in here," he said to me chuckling, and I would, forgetting to close the door to his truck and having to run back out in the pouring rain.
Tim's place was huge, as his living room was the size of my apartment in Norfolk (1,100 square feet).