The First Time

This took awhile to write as the ending, for me, had to feel right. Many thanks to Kenjisato for editing this story. Your suggestions were greatly appreciated.

The First Time Pt. 04

Hold on tight

Hold on tight

Ride, ride

I'm a motorbike

Ride, ride

I'm a motorbike

Sheep on Drugs, Motorbike

Truthfully, I was in a kind of daze as Mike took my hand gently, leading me, softly, guiding me to the bedroom - the bedroom where it all first happened. Yes, the adrenaline rush was fading, but the truth was, my heart was beating so hard it didn't stop me. I knew what I was being led to.

The enemy of fear is panic.

I recalled him saying that, but oddly, I didn't feel fear, not really. What I felt was an overwhelming feeling of acceptance. Initially, I felt as if I was returning to the scene of a dream. The towel, wrapped 'round me, his hand on my back, rubbing as if he had all the time in the world. What I felt was that he wouldn't take advantage of me, or at least take advantage of me in a bad way. I felt safe. I didn't feel forced. I felt his patience. I was still shocked, you have to understand that, but I enjoyed being led, it made me feel respected and admired - it drew out of me something that no one else had tapped into before. I looked down and across at the plug bulging in the pocket of his dressing gown, trepidation and doubt gnawing at me.

When we entered the bedroom, he lifted the towel up at the back, baring my behind, which made me laugh a little, as I tried to pull it back down, almost embarrassed, but also loving that weird, playful affection.

Mike laughed gently as he eased his palm against a cheek, then patted my ass softly - the patting increasing in the intensity. Then he cupped my ass, firmly, which made me blush a little with nervous energy. I could feel his hand almost gripping as he continued to roll my ass cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb gently slipping across my bum, as if he owned me.

"I do love your cheeky ass," he said, almost announcing it.

I could not believe I was still hard. I couldn't believe I had come but not ejaculated. And it felt different, too, in a weird way - it had felt almost unexpected, almost as if I caught myself off guard. Sure, I felt it building inside; sure, I knew I was coming, but it felt quite scary at first, not only because I knew I wasn't actually ejaculating, but because I had already surrendered and given in. But what really made me uneasy, was how I felt.

I felt inexplicably hard. That kind of hard where you would do

anything

to sate it, because you simply have to, because you

need

to.

I picked up a spare towel, trying to cover the shaking in my hands, as the feeling felt like it was consuming me, leaving no escape. Have you ever dried yourself when you're hard? It's fucking awkward, and looks bloody stupid. What made it worse was he watched me intently, watching me as he opened his bathrobe, him hard as well, watching me blatantly look at him. He laughed softly at my shameless gazing, smiling, as he placed his bathrobe down to pick up a towel, and my embarrassment rose as I watched his cock swaying, metronomically as he dried himself.

Strangely, him drying himself while hard did not look stupid; in fact, it looked extremely erotic, at least to me. How could it not? He was a man, okay in his early thirties, but that just made him experienced in my eyes because he was older. I couldn't stop staring.

God

, he was so confident. I watched him slide the towel over himself, through his hair, across his torso and thighs, unashamed of his feelings for me, his eyes occasionally flicking up to pierce into mine. Unashamed that my body turned him on. Unashamed of what he wanted to do to me.

Steve, I want to fuck you.

I looked at him, thick and hard, thinking,

he wants me, he wants to fuck me.

And even though I felt thrilled, excited at that blatant display, even more so, because the whole thing turned me on terribly, I tried to bury my emotions. I felt guilty that I couldn't stop looking at him, at his cock, but he made me feel so wanted, so desired, I couldn't help but look. Yes, I could see his eyes as he drew closer, they were focused on mine, knowing damn well I couldn't stop looking. At him. At his cock. Thinking of the things he could do to me, things I somehow wanted, but there was something holding me back from saying it. Something that made my breath shorter. Faster.

I was ashamed.

They say it hurts the first time. But how can it if his fingers felt so good,

there

?

His step closer to me made me feel small and yet I still felt safe. The caress of my bottom brought forth a subtle appreciating groan from him as he firmly cupped a cheek. His lips crinkled up in the corner into a knowing smile, making me look down, at his cock. Hard. Mike playfully slapped my bottom this time, as he caught me looking, interrupting everything.

He stepped back, then opened the wardrobe and handed me a white bathrobe.

"I have forgotten something. I'll be back in a few moments."

He walked casually out of the room, naked, as I stared at this man walking so brazenly in a situation, where I felt on edge. I watched him walk out, staring at his ass as he picked up his bathrobe, him so bold, confident; me taking the opportunity to dry myself fully and put on the robe, while he was away.

And there, I didn't quite know what to do. I looked up, seeing myself in the free-standing mirror, just to the left of the door. I honestly couldn't almost look at myself, but I did. The reflection showed my apprehension, fear and yet, my reflection haunted me as I saw I wanted him. I sat down as I heard him returning, looking at me gently as he closed the bedroom door, his back against the door, casually leaning against it, just simply

looking

at me with his hands in his red dressing gown. I sat there, on the edge of the bed, unsure of what I should do, the apprehension inside me building. I had to look down slightly, at the knot on my robe, because all of my decisions these last few weeks had led me to this moment.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, gently.

I sat for a brief second, for what seemed like a lifetime, the fact I was saying nothing, it building inside me, the silence around us unsettling me. It felt awkward but exciting at the same time. He flicked off the light, the room seemed smaller suddenly, it was still lit by the bedside lights, but it retreated into a soft illumination.

"I..." I paused, realizing my voice was trembling, my mouth dry. I swallowed hard as he smiled softly, taking a step towards me. "I, uh, I don't know what to do."

Again he just drank me in, his eyes focused on me attentively. He took another small measured step towards me, as his voice lowered to a faint whisper.

"I think you do..." He watched me, as he said it, his eyes focused on me as the nerves and doubts played on my mind. "I

know

you do," Mike said softly.

Again, he stepped closer, this time two steps, almost up close to me. Slowly, his hand moved to my bathrobe and slipped it off of my right knee; his eyes momentarily flicking down then immediately back up to meet mine. The stare was gentle but firm, as he hooked a thumb into the tie of his own gown and pulled, opening it, tassels dangling at the sides and letting me glimpse his semi-hard cock.

"I think

,

you're just scared to say it."

I could feel my heart thumping as he took that final half-step, so close to me, as he placed his hands on the bathrobe covering my other knee, his own cock rising with desire. He looked down at my gown's knot and smiled gently.

"You

are

a little scared, aren't you?"

I nodded at that because it was the truth and I couldn't deny it. Mike placed his hand on my other knee, carefully slipping the bathrobe off of it with an appreciative smile, as I looked down seeing him acknowledge the knot. Mike's eyes flicked back up to look at me.

"You had the confidence to come here. Why don't you tell me what you're scared to say?" He stood there, in front of me, as he hooked a finger into the knot of my gown.

Ashamed he'd used me the way he had, ashamed I had enjoyed it, I sat there chewing my lip nervously. I watched, transfixed, as his finger pulled gently on the knot and I couldn't help but look up at him, almost shaking my head slightly, as I eased my sweaty hands back onto the bed, palms down, leaning back slightly. I tried to look up at him, intentionally playing the shy side for all it was worth, because it made sense, because it wasn't an act— but I could only do it for a brief moment before it consumed me. I had to look back down, to see his cock hard for me, and down to the knot of my gown, which was rapidly opening. Wrapping one tassel in his hand, it slipped softly through the hoops, as the bathrobe became loose, and the middle gently began to open a little.

"Tell me," he said softly.

I looked up at him as he looked down at me, and I saw he was smiling. That smile, he held it for a moment, studying me as he threw the tie onto the floor.

Would you like to be told what to do? Would that make it easier?

I sat there, hearing it again.

"You like it when I'm hard for you, don't you, Steve?" Mike said in a manner like it was a sudden revelation.

He knew damn well it did. I couldn't help but smirk at his playful manner; my smirk formed from a soft, sort-of-nervous, sexual energy, as the pieces came together. I watched Mike's hands move to the collar of my dressing gown, adjusting it, making me look down as the middle parted further and opened just that little more, freeing my hard cock. I looked up at him, following the path he laid out, nodding.

Take my hand.

"Just say it," he said, as he stroked my cheek with the other hand, his eyes fixated on me, his thumb caressing my jaw playfully. "We've got all night."

I sat there, feeling very vulnerable. Feeling out of sorts. Disjointed. And yet? I was aroused. I couldn't speak. I tried swallowing to ease the tension in my throat, to remove that dry feeling. He continued with a whisper.

"Tell me what scares you, Steve." It was a question, but it was also a delicate command. A command I could either obey or ignore. But I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave in. I had already given in so much, I couldn't hide it any more. I was tired of fighting, of running, of hiding.

I would never hurt you.

I looked down at his cock, it was almost fully hard, remembering the joy I got with it in my mouth. The feeling of helplessness when he used his fingers on me, even inside me. And that dry orgasm!

Jesus

. I looked up at him, everything that I had thought of for the last few weeks was here. It was the moment.

"I can't stop myself," I said, after a moment, ashamed I had almost been forced to admit it. But there, right then, it made sense to call him something else; it made it easier somehow. The gentle guiding nature. The patience. One who could show me, but I didn't say it fully. "I can't."

Mike smiled at my response as he continued to stroke my cheek, my gown opening just the little bit more as he played with it, with me, gently. Carefully, his hand slipped inside as the gown opened that little bit more, curling around my cock. The touch was light and gentle and that's when I felt rewarded.

"This beautiful cock, Steve. You're all desperately hard, young man."

I groaned, softly, knowing the words, knowing what to say, but scared. I'd thought about it for weeks. But here, feeling everything that was going on, it made sense to say it. I was alone, alone with someone who could show me, who wasn't going to judge me. A man who wanted to teach me.

"

What

can't you stop, baby?" The emphasis of that first word was almost a demand for me to tell him. I couldn't help myself as I obeyed.

"...Thinking of your cock."

"

Why

is that?"

His touch continued to tease me - or coax it out of me. I closed my eyes, trying to regain some kind of control of my breathing because I was ashamedly turned on. I was shaking - trembling even - my chest almost raggedly heaving. I shook my head slowly, fighting it for the last time, feeling that fight evaporate. I could feel tears welling in my eyes as my hands gripped the sheets, scrunching them firmly in between my fingers; wringing them for strength.

"I like..." I lowered my head to watch him, stroking me under the gown, his hand trailing up and down as I groaned. "I like the way it makes me feel."

He nodded at that, but smirked. "You've told me that, do you remember?"

I nodded, recalling what I had said to him when I was drunk the other weekend. I swallowed hard. The light stroking was almost crippling me, but it felt like his grip was firmer. I couldn't help myself, as I closed my eyes as I slipped my arms down, resting on my elbows and looking up at him.

It's natural to be scared.

"I've thought about it inside me." I looked up at Mike as he patiently waited, stroking my cheek, his fingers sliding up and down my neck, occasionally, easing the collar open more.

"Inside you?" Mike enquired, feigning a little shock.

I nodded, with a soft smirk. "In my ass..." I swallowed hard, the admission not complete. "Fucking me..."

His smile rose at that, and especially, his keen eyes felt like sunshine on my skin as the gown opened just a bit more.

"And how would you like that sexy, beautiful ass to be fucked, Steve?"

I was losing control of my breathing. But his gentleness, his patience, and that praise made me let him. It was as if someone pushed things out the way and made room for it. But right there, it was him that made the room. For me.

"Gently?" he enquired, almost playfully. That smile, that knowing smirk, was terribly exciting. Yeah, and the hand on my cock, teasing was guiding me.

"Gently," I said nodding, blinking as the tears almost built up in my eyes. I whispered it softly, again, almost trying to convince myself. "Gently." I took a very deep breath, sweat almost on my brow, looking at him, the shame evaporating, the trembling taking hold as my hands gripped the sheets for strength.

I felt the gown open as I stared at him, it easing off of me. The stroking was a lot firmer suddenly, as he eased me back, his body softly resting on top of me. I felt my elbows give way and I felt powerless as his mouth found my neck, as I let go.

"Gently it is, then..." His kisses got more hungry, more intense. But in between those kisses, he breathed in my ear. It was full of dark carnal desire. "...At first."

Mike's hands were on my face, on my body as he kissed me. I couldn't help but respond. I couldn't fight it anymore. I was tired. I was caught.

Helpless.

"I'm gentle..." I could feel his weight pressing on me as his hands reached around and under to cup my ass, gripping a little harder and more firmly than he had done previously. And I felt him, rock hard against my own urgently needing cock, softly rolling his hips as he ground against me. "...Until you're ready."

I took it for what it was — he owned me and I realised that right there, right then, that he could do anything, and I also realised, horrifyingly, I was powerless to stop him. Because I didn't want him to.

"I can be gentle, until you tell me what you need me to do."

I was aware of my state of arousal, as his hungry mouth raked with firm kisses on my neck. My robe was being ushered down off my shoulders rather quickly by his firm hands. Turning my head to the side, I simply let him, then tilted my head towards my abdomen, watching him grind that thick and hard, ravenous cock of his against my own. His foreskin was leaking and greasing back and forth. In that moment, I felt lost, my shaking hands reaching up and curling around Mike's back, shamelessly wanting him. I was almost hugging him, desperately turned on and hopelessly grinding my hips back at him, enjoying that feeling as our urgent cocks caressed each other.

"Do you want me to fuck you like this?"

I felt the rush of shame flushing on my face. I looked up at him, me swallowing with trepidation, shame and fear, trying to lock it away, to hide it. On my back? Looking at him? I closed my eyes, my mouth dry, almost unable to speak; the only sounds I made were my urgent, shameless whimpers and groans.

I can't. I shouldn't.

I let Mike tease me as he pleasured himself against me, his hardness and desire making me enjoy it even more. I could hear his ragged growls in my ear as I felt his hand slide up from where he was firmly gripping my ass, to my back, shifting his weight on me, overwhelming me.

Then he was rolling me onto my front. It wasn't rough. It was controlled. The firm hands guiding me, making me, and the most terrifying part was that I let him. The dressing gown slipped off of me quickly, leaving me naked as I heard it softly crumple on the floor. I felt his hand, on the back of my thigh - sliding up, moving my knee out to the side, as I realised my ass was pointing straight at him. Slipping up my thigh, I felt his hands cup my ass cheeks and firmly squeeze, but gently push them apart. Then Mike's thumbs eased between the crevice of my ass, moving them up and down until he stopped and softly began to rub my sphincter. Again, his thumbs then gently pulled my cheeks apart, making me groan at the sensation of my hole being stretched. He began to manipulate my ass, his thumbs changing the angle, only to reapply in a slightly different line. Again he pulled, gently moving behind me while alternating the placement of his thumbs.

"Then... I'll

get

you ready."

The sensation of his breath, touching me intimately, cascading between my cheeks, I knew what he was going to do. I knew it when I heard that intake of breath, because I did it, too. I gripped the sheets, not knowing how it was going to feel, lifting my hips and tilting them a little, almost begging. But then I felt it. That semi-hard, wet tongue, wriggling and probing. Exploring and searching. I groaned uncontrollably, gripping the sheets even harder when I felt the sudden pleasure.

"Oh god, please don't..." The

Thing

in me begged him shamelessly, as his tongue trailed up and down, slithering lightly. A firm hand eased onto my thigh, suggestively moving my leg up a little, guiding me. Making me.

"Bring the knee up to your chest, Steve." A wet finger slowly circled my sphincter as he said it, feeling his breath there.

Groaning, I obeyed, slowly bringing my knee out and up, but he pushed my thigh up higher as my knee almost touched my shoulder.

I could feel his hands spread them, a little more firmly, as his thumbs slid down the clefts of my ass again and pushed them apart. Mike's thumbs eased up against my sphincter and slowly stretched it again and again. His tongue returned with a more firmer approach. Stabbing. Licking. Pressing right up against me, simply pushing in and out of me and to the sides rapidly.

I couldn't help but push back against him. I tried to keep my moaning in check, but in truth, it simply escaped from me. I knew the

Thing

inside me was loving it. I couldn't fight it, it just felt that good.

I felt his arms slip under my thighs, his hands easing up my sides to reach across and interlink his fingers across my back. As his tongue slid and probed me, I heard his muffled groans. He seemed to pull my ass to him, more firmly this time, holding me firmly in place. I looked up - seeing the mirror beside the closed door, seeing myself. Ass tilted up, his nose on the top of my ass - face buried, eyes closed. Tonguing me. Savoring me. He groaned harder, his hips swiveling as he ground the bed, repeatedly faster and faster. My mind was in a shameless state between his attentive tongue and his groans of desire. I closed my eyes, trying not to see it, as I gripped the sheets, but I did — even when I closed my eyes. Even though I heard my moans, as effeminate as they were, I couldn't stop them. I pictured him fucking me as I eased my hips up, riding his tongue as my cock caressed the bed in tandem with him, dribbling with urgency and need.