I’d never been with another guy before, and until a few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it was ever something that would happen to me. I’m very happily heterosexual, and although I was occasionally curious about what it would be like to suck a cock, I never thought I would be curious enough to do anything about it.
It all started, really, with a dream. In the dream I found myself kneeling in front of a big, muscular guy. He was tan, very fit, and was wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans. If he had a face, I didn’t see it. I just found myself staring with growing excitement at the bulge in his jeans. He unzipped the jeans while I watched, and released a massive cock. I lowered my head in the dream and started sucking it immediately, and when I woke up not long after, I would have sworn I could still taste the cock in my mouth…
I had the dream – or some variation on it, anyway – once or twice a week for the next two months. Soon I found myself fantasizing, in a very casual way, about maybe acting out some of the things from my dream. Searching the web one evening, I came across an Adult Personals site that allowed people to find others seeking “discreet encounters”. Maybe I’d had too much to drink that night. Or maybe I was just more curious about the whole thing than I had realized. For whatever reason, though, I posted a short ad of my own:
Athletic, good-looking straight man, seeking a one-time adventure with a friendly stranger. Anyone out there willing to show a curious virgin the ropes? Willing to try anything…
It wasn’t much of an ad, maybe, but it was late and I didn’t really think anyone would respond anyway. So I sent it off, turned off my computer, and went to bed.
The next morning, I woke up and started having second thoughts. Did I really want to meet some stranger and suck his cock (among other things)? Wasn’t I being just a little too bold, here? I convinced myself it was a stupid idea, and I logged on to remove my ad from the Personals site to which I’d submitted it the night before.
I was surprised to find that I’d already received a reply. It was just a single sentence:
Meet me at the Blue Dragon bar, Monday at seven.
It was signed
Brian
.
The Blue Dragon was a rather upscale bar and restaurant in the heart of the city, and I’d been there a few times with different girlfriends. It gave me an odd little thrill to read the note. Then I deleted it and promptly put it out of my mind.
That Monday night, I left work at six-thirty, as I always did. I honestly thought I had forgotten all the ad and the mysterious, one-line reply I had received. But perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, I found myself driving past the parking lot of the Blue Dragon at six forty-five. I considered the possibilities. It could be a serial killer. It could be some disgusting creep. And how would I even be able to tell who “Brian” was, when he hadn’t given me any physical description?
I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to go in for a drink. I didn’t have to look for Brian, after all, and even if I did find him, I didn’t have to admit that I was the one who had written the ad.
I parked my car and went inside. The bar was dimly lit and not as loud as a lot of bars in the city, but it had an elegance that I liked. I took a seat near the end of the bar, and tried not to stare too closely at the people around me.
I ordered a Scotch, no ice, and had a series of aimless conversations about college football with a few guys on either side of me. It was ridiculous, but I felt nervous, and I had finished two glasses of Scotch before I looked up at the wall clock and realized it was ten past seven.
Relief mingled with disappointment in my mind, but I decided I really was more relieved. Maybe.
I decided to have one more glass of Scotch before I started to sober up. Halfway through the glass, the guy to my right – big, muscular and handsome in a very non-descript sort of way – turned in my direction and said, “Oh, by the way, I’m Brian.”
The glass froze against my lips. I forced myself to bring it back to the bar, knowing that my hand was visibly shaking. “I’m John,” I said, taking his hand.
He smiled. “Drink up,” he said. “In fact, let’s both have just one more, what do you say? Then maybe we could get a table and have a bite to eat. Sound okay?”
I swallowed once, hard. “Sure,” I said. I finished the glass in two gulps, while Brian signaled to the bartender for two more glasses. It was hard to look at him, but it was hard to look away, too. I caught myself looking down at his pants, at the bulge in his jeans. When I tore my eyes away, I saw that he was smiling at me.
Our drinks came, and I finished mine off in seconds. The Scotch felt warm and comforting in my stomach, and I knew I’d already had too much to drink. I looked directly at Brian, and now it wasn’t quite so difficult to look him in the eye. “Okay,” I said, slurring my words just a bit. “Let’s go…”
We stood up and Brian went off to find the hostess. A few minutes later we were led to a small table near the back of the restaurant. Brian took his seat, and when I started to sit down across from him, he stopped me. “You can do better than that,” he said, gesturing to the seat beside him, to his left.
I grinned nervously and sat down. An older couple at a nearby table were watching us with obvious disapproval, but I could feel the Scotch doing its job. Everything seemed fine, and I wasn’t worried about anything at the moment.
Brian startled me by saying: “Jerk me off for a few minutes.” His voice was completely normal as he said it, and several people – including the older couple I’d already seen – looked over at us in shock.
I guess I thought he was joking around – intentionally trying to shock everyone around us – but then he shocked me, as well, by unzipping his jeans and letting his cock fall out to the left side. I was the only one who could really see it, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It was the first time I’d ever been this close to another guy’s cock, and it fascinated me. It was surprisingly thick, considering that it wasn’t hard yet. It looked