Our First Time

If there was any sign that a guy was gay it would be frosted tips. How do I know? 'Cause that's always the case. Every time I walk into these bars and I see a guy with frosted tips, they're either super gay or in the closet. Nine times outta ten, I get the closet people who go to the bar "for a friend," but once I have them on their knees, all the excuses fly out the window.

Most of what they say is so identical, I could recite it to you.

"Oh my God, your cock is so big! Deeper, harder, more! I'm gonna cum so fucking hard!"

It gets me shooting every single time. You never get tired of hearing them call you "Daddy" while they ejaculate their load into your bedsheets. I don't mind the extra wash though; my job pays me just enough to afford it.

So yeah, frosted tips. That's usually the first green flag. Next, I have to see what they're wearing and this one was very comfortable with his body. He wore leather straps that buckled across his pecs and assless chaps to match. When he stuck his tongue out to his girlfriends, I spotted a little piercing on it, and the way he spun around the stripper pole was as big an indicator as any that he knew how to work his hips. When he dropped down from the pole and hit that split, I was certain: This guy was going to be my bitch.

I walked up to him, he saw me, and that was it. He was plastered, the beer reeked on my clothes the morning after. I wasn't all there either, but coherent enough to guide him back to my apartment. Things went as they normally did at first; we scrambled to take off our clothes, jerked each other off, and then he gave me a blowjob.

"Oh fuck...," I tried clawing onto the wall so I wouldn't collapse; his technique was so good. My legs were trembling from the way his tongue caressed my shaft and slurped up my precum. The slight coolness of his piercing would press into my slit and that fucker knew what it did to me. It was the uncanniness of feeling that silver ball enter my cock that made my balls swell. But then, an annoying chime rang from inside his fanny pack that he dropped on the floor, and he opened the pack to grab his phone.

He pressed the phone up against his ear, "What happened...Grandma?" he grunted, "Dammit, I'll be right there! Just give me 10 minutes!"

He hurried to put on his leather while I was still trembling against the wall, a stroke away from busting. "Hey...you alright?" I managed to moan out.

"Yeah, don't worry about it!" he adjusted his crotch in his chaps, "My grandma's in the hospital, so imma go check on her. But she should be fine," he repeated himself as if to soothe his fears, "She should be fine..."

I don't normally offer, but he looked so panicked I couldn't stop myself from asking, "You want me to drive you there? How far is it?"

"Just 10 mins by train."

"I'll take you."

"No!" he cried, "That's fine, I can handle it."

I studied his outfit again. Sexy as it was, I couldn't picture his possibly dying grandmother being too pleased seeing her grandson looking like a slutty twink.

"Are you sure? I could really do it."

This guy eyed me with such caution, seemingly questioning my authenticity. Making sure he wouldn't trap himself in some twisted deal. The kinds I've found myself in before. I'll do this for you if you do that- those sorts of things.

"Look, it's not a big deal. My car's outside," I explained, "I'm sure that the hospital is freezing too, and taking the train at night? You'll contract syphilis from touching those seats skin-to-skin."

He remained quiet for a while and then released this painful sounding hiss, like he touched a hot stove. "All this time talking when I could've been there by now!" He ran to the door.

"At least let me take you!"

"It's fine. Thanks!" The guy that was just so open to sucking my dick not only left me with the bluest balls in the world, but chose to go out at night looking like THAT to see an ill relative. What a cocktease...

I didn't see him again for almost a month. I thought that night would be my first and only time meeting such a character. I went to the bar the weekend after specifically to look for him, then when he never arrived, I chose not to go the following weekend. The weekend after that, I felt like going again and I found someone new. We fucked.

"Holy shit, your cock is so big inside me!"

That line was getting old. This whole routine of picking strangers up and sleeping with them was just getting old. Or was it me who was getting old? My birthday was coming up. Going right into my mid-twenties, the big 2-5. No commitments, no family, not even any pets.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The day after that hook up is when God decided that it was finally time to reunite with the one who got away, but I didn't see him at the bar. Far from it, of all places to see this flamboyant kid again, I saw him at a carnival.

A hoard of children was surrounding him, some holding up toys they've won, others spouting some gibberish about wanting to go on more rides, and others just screaming. I would've screamed back with that amount of noise, but this guy took it like a professional. He was so attentive to each of them, making sure their needs were met in getting the attention they craved out of him. I wish he would've done the same for me.

What a lucky chance I had walking past this traveling carnival on my day off, or else I wouldn't have believed anybody who told me this guy could dress modestly. His shaggy black hair with white ends was still there, but the rest of him felt photoshopped. He had on a casual white, button up shirt with beige pants cutting off at his knees.

That wasn't the guy I planned on pounding the shit out of; this guy looked unapproachable. Too innocent to claim, and that made my cock shift in my jeans.

My feet lead me towards the inside of the park, but an attendant stopped me.

"Hey you! You got a pass?" he cried out from the booth.

"Uh..." was I really going to pay money just to follow this guy who stood me up? "No...how much is it?"

Swallowing my pride, I hurried through crowds of people to reach him. He didn't go too far. He was sitting at this food court area with benches for the kids to eat at. He kept a close eye on them while he spoke with other people his age. The lightbulb turned on in my head when I understood why he must've been here, and I suddenly felt stupid. All this to get some closure? What if he wanted to keep that side of him hidden from people?

My mind rewinded back to that night. The sight of him twerking on stage for dollars that he didn't even pick up. Letting people spank his bare ass on beat to house music. There's no way in Hell he's hiding all that. I was already here, so might as well go for it.

He saw me before I said a word. He had sensed my presence approaching the table, and he and his colleagues looked up at me almost too in sync. I felt like I intruded on an important conversation.

"Can we help you?" a female in the group said with obvious sass. In any other occasion, I would've cussed her out.

"Sorry," I rubbed at my neck, "I was just looking for someone. I thought he was with you."

"He is," my hook up smiled, "Don't worry about them. We always have to be on guard when we're working." Unphased by his rude co-worker, he jumped out of his seat and rested his hands on his hips.

"How you been?" his ice blue eyes scanned up my body without shame, "Man...it's been quite a while, hasn't it?" He may have looked more masculine in his daytime wear, but that seductive vocal fry would assure anyone that he was rooting for the same team.

"Sure has," I replied, "What's up with you?"

"I asked you first, Sir."

"Right," I cursed myself in my head, "Nothing much. Just hanging out, having some fun."

"Oh yeah?" he glanced around me, "With who?"

"A couple of friends" I lied, "They're somewhere, but can't find 'em at the moment."

"Well, that sucks," he grabbed my hand, "Why don't I help you find them?"

I didn't want him following me anywhere. It's stupid, I know. Went through all this trouble just to push him away, but that's what I felt in my stomach. There was a weird ball forming down there that made me feel sick. Like my body was heating up and sweating just standing with him.

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I don't doubt that," he chuckled, "But it wouldn't hurt to catch up, right?"

"But what about your work?"

He paused. Then, he turned towards his colleagues, "I'm going out with this guy! Meet you at 3!" Most of his co-workers shrugged it off, and the one female with an attitude rolled her eyes but her sass felt more light-hearted when she mumbled, "Classic Isaac..."

He faced me again flashing a sweet smile, "Let's go!"

I could see how he gets along with kids so well. The way he yanked my arm to run away from his group had me feeling like a fed-up father just going with the flow of his child's emotions to avoid their inevitable wrath.

We got ice cream at a separate food court that was less crowded than the previous one. The huge roller coaster rattling behind us was a big reason why no one cared to eat. Why eat when you'd hurl it out on, "The Guts Scrambler?"

"So, your name's Isaac?"

"Yup. Short for laughter!"

My eyes bulged out, "...Huh?"

Isaac giggled, "Bible joke. My bad, it sounded funnier in my head!"

Taking a lick of my scoop of ice cream, I thought about the joke, "...Oh! I get it now!"

"Right?!"

Isaac turned the conversation into one about his religious upbringing. As the only boy of five children, he was expected to have a family to carry on his legacy. But by age 15, he was sure that plan was scorched. He loved men. Tall, dark, and handsome men. Tattoos were a plus. When he said that part, I glimpsed down at my sleeve tattoo running down my right arm, questioning if he meant to imply that I was his type.

He slowly gathered the last of his vanilla scoop with his long, pink tongue. I don't know if he tried seducing me with that move either. It's hard not to believe. The white cream smacked between his lips as he moaned from the taste. We had the same flavor; it couldn't have been that good.

"Your friends seem to be having a very fun time without you," Isaac said, arching his eyebrows, "Aren't you worried?"

"Not at all. They're grown. They can take care of themselves."

"That's not the point," Isaac argued, "Just be real with me here...You're alone, aren't you?"

This was a stupid lie to begin with, no reason to keep defending it.

"Christ...you're an asshole. You know that?"

"What you mean? I'm not the one who's stalking anybody!"

Was he joking? Or did he really know I was...it didn't matter. What was important was getting the answers I needed. What happened after he left my apartment? Was his grandma okay? Why couldn't he give me just one more stroke?

But then, Isaac wiped his hands clean with a napkin and proclaimed, "As punishment for lying to me, you're going on "The Guts Scrambler!"

"The hell I am!" I wiped off my own fingers, "I'd rather eat toilet paper than go on that thing!"

"Come on, don't be such a baby!"

"I'm not a baby!" I yelled, "I just never liked coasters. They're really big and-"

"Scary?" Isaac batted his eyelashes, "I promise to hold your hand the whole time!"

"Shut up!" a small dagger hit my heart when he tried coddling me. Isaac sensed my anger and backed off. "We could keep walking," he suggested, "They have these cool exhibits too. We passed by a Spider Woman earlier. Wanna check it out?"

That lady was just a dwarf with Halloween spider legs you could get from a Dollar Store.

"What a gip!" Isaac pouted.

"Do people even say that anymore?"

"My dad certainly does."

We explored the mirror maze, and I busted my ass running to who I thought was Isaac, but it was only an illusion. It reminded me of that night I interrogated all the frosted tip boys in the club to find him again. There was a whole bunch of stuff in between that we did that ranged from more wacky exhibits to kiddie rides. The bumper cars were neat.

We were testing our luck on time. Five minutes to 3, and I knew he needed to return to his group to catch the school bus. But, we were so positive that we were the stronger one of the two, so we ended our fun with The High Striker.

"Watch this!" I flexed my arm muscles before grabbing the mallet and set my eyes on the target below me. Just gotta hit it once and make it reach the bell.

Isaac cupped his mouth and yelled, "Hey batter batter, swing!"

"Wrong sport, kid" I snickered, bringing down the mallet.

"Woah!" the carny shouted, "Missed it by just an inch! Better luck next time!"

"Game's rigged anyway," I joked, "I'd like to see you do better than that."

In a moment of rarity, Isaac had no rebuttal. He grabbed the mallet from me, centered his footing and then brought it down in an effortless swoop. The bell rang within a millisecond.

"Amazing!" the carny took his hat off dramatically, wowing the kids who were watching us, "What milk do you drink, boy? Darn near broke the bell with that strength!"

I had to remind myself that this was the same guy who danced his ass off on the pole and drunk half a bottle of Fireball without stumbling over himself. It shouldn't have shocked me how strong he was at this point.

He chose his prize and gestured for me to make a run for the exit. We sped past people like we were in a race. It was me versus Isaac and his oversized animal plushie; the rest of the world didn't matter.

We caught our breath when we a few footsteps from crossing away from the fun of the carnival and back into reality. Isaac held up two fingers to the rude co-worker who was standing outside waiting for him to get on with the rest of the class.

"All this time we spent together," he huffed, "and I didn't even ask for your number..."

"You want it? Okay!" He allowed me to use his phone to enter my information, and I sent a text to myself to confirm that we could talk to each other. He glimpsed at the new contact and smirked.

"Alright Domenic, I'll send you the details for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah," Isaac said, "I know a place where they serve this amazing Moroccan food. You're gonna love it. Is 8pm okay?"

Him taking the initiative to meet up again without confirming if I was free should've annoyed me more than it did. "Yeah, that's perfect!"

"Great!" he shoved his prized animal in my arms, "Take this!"

"W-why?" I stuttered, "This is yours..."

"And I do with it what I please. Besides, those kids would just get their grubby hands all over it," Isaac smiled softly, "I know it'll be safe with you..." He then leaned forward and planted an innocent kiss on my lips. No tongue or saliva. Just a peck.

"See you soon...," he whispered against my mouth. This kid was pulling my strings; first, he leaves me alone with blue balls, and now he left me alone with this toy that just so happened to be a blue bulldog.

"Lucky...," I examined its embroidered name on its scarf around its neck. It was like a cruel joke. But, I prayed to this dog that hopefully some of his luck would rub off on me. When I got home, I placed Lucky on top of my drawer and apologized to him for the sight he was about to see.

I gazed down at my leaking head while I stroked myself to the things I wish I had done to Isaac at the carnival. I wanted to lick that bit of white cream he had on the side of his mouth, or drag him to a bathroom stall so he could finally finish what he started. He also had a way with his hips just by walking, they swayed like they were begging me to grope them against my crotch and grind my dick between his firm ass cheeks. So effortless and smooth, he exuded more confidence in his sexuality at 23 more than I did at that age- just a couple of years ago, when I came out.

That familiar swelling in my balls came up again when I remembered how taut his muscles were as they slammed the mallet down. He had to work hard to be so strong; when he doesn't flex, you'd think he's a skinny little twink, but underneath that was a beast with so much power.

"Hah..." I whimpered, a sprinkle of cum shooting up to my nipples. "Oh how I want you...fuck!" another load came out and spilled between the creases of my abs. My asshole was starting to get drenched in cum that had spilt down it, so I lathered my free hand with spit and moved down my body to toy with my tight ring. Two fingers massaged and widened the hole, helping make the remainder of my orgasm much stronger.

I don't know what came over me, "Mmh!" I bit my lip. I don't normally play with my asshole like this. Sure, I play with other people's assholes as long as they let me, but my own was out of the question. I decided that after one of my first hook-ups. I could still see the disgust in that guy's face when he tried pushing into me.

"You're way too tight. Loosen up a little, would ya?"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder! I can't work like this!"

If the bastard knew any better, he would've known that lube was necessary to get my asshole open to take in his dick. Good thing that didn't end up happening. He got all pissed off and left, and I never saw him again.

Him being out of my life isn't a big deal, he was just like the others- a one-night-stand. A night that amounted to nothing. I promised myself I wouldn't let that happen again. Every guy I invited home I'd fuck them, and I'll hold the reigns, since I bothered to learn what makes men tick. It's easier to control the situation when you're the dom. But with Isaac, I let my guard down and didn't make him mine when I had the chance.

Isaac and I did have that dinner together and it led to something more. We made out in an alley after we ate. His tongue tasted like curry. I rubbed his dick through his briefs when I slipped under his jeans, and he was already pre-cumming in them. He clutched my ass and tried to hump me harder even though I was still rubbing the tip of his leaking cock.

"I want you, Dom..." he sighed.

"You're not gonna leave me again, are you?"

"What?" Isaac pulled away, catching his breath, "Leave you? I'd never do that..."

"Says the guy who abandoned me the night we met."

Isaac remembered what I was referring to and frowned, "Oh...that..." and when he showed that sad face of his, I regretted what I just said. He didn't abandon me over nothing; he had a family emergency, and I was taking it personal this whole time.

I kept on saying to myself that I wanted to know what happened to his grandmother, but I got so caught up in the moment that it didn't matter. It SHOULD matter to me if I want to sleep with him. I felt like a horrible person.

"About that..." Isaac stepped away with a sheepish look, "There's no grandma...."

My heart dropped. How dare I accuse him of leaving me when his relative died? If I wasn't so pushy that night, maybe she could've hung on long enough to say goodbye to him. I really was a dumbass.

My dick grew flaccid, "Isaac, I'm so sorry for your loss. I shouldn't have said anything."

Isaac's somber face switched to confusion, "Sorry about what?"

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

Now I was confused. "You said your grandma wasn't here...that she's dead."

"Oh God, no, listen!" Isaac waved his hands, "What I meant was there's no grandma because I don't have a grandma. Well, I did, but both died before I was born. Nobody was sick. I was just-"

"Wait wait wait wait!" I held up my arms trying to prevent him from speaking further, "You're telling me that when you were panicking about leaving my apartment...that was all a lie?"

Isaac exhaled, "Yes..."

We remained silent for a while until I suggested that we just head to my car so I could drop him off at his place. We were silent the whole car ride and the tension was thicker that the rage building in my head. How could he do something like that?