This is not an original story. If you're reading this you've probably read it a thousand times already. Twenty-one-year-old college straight guy has a smart, beautiful girlfriend with a big brain and big breasts and an even better appetite. But no matter how great the conversations are, the chemistry is and the sex feels right, something in him cannot be satisfied. So, while she's off on a family vacation in the Swiss Alps or something, he goes on that website he's been secretly lurking on since he was fifteen. Only this time, he takes that final step. After talking to a complete stranger, he decides to meet up with him. And within the hour the self-proclaimed ladies man who has every girl in his class fawning over him and his perfect relationship with a girl is taking a 12-inch dick up his stomach, moaning like a porn actress.
And yet, it is mine. Or at least, a more romantic, fictionalized version of my story. I did have the girlfriend and the reputation, and I did maintain for the longest part of my life that I was in fact straight. Where this story begins is with that first dick. The one that pushed me over the edge and made me crave more and more, until I became what that dick was to me; the thing every straight guy craved.
It was a Thursday I remember. My roommate was already back home with his parents in the south of the country otherwise I would've never risked it. My room in our shared attic apartment, in an stately building where the ceilings were still made of wood and the electricity lines ran outside of the walls, didn't have a door. So if I were to let a strange man into our house and my asshole, I'd prefer it when my straight but virgin roommate couldn't see it.
I hadn't seen any pictures of him. Monty, shall we name him. Why not. Monty turned out to be a twenty-three year old Black man almost as tall as the ceiling. He was dressed in a large red sweater with an equally red hat and slouchy jeans. He didn't say much, didn't want anything to drink and didn't seem to be pre-occupied with my nerves. He simply commanded me to lay on my cheap pull-out couch and pulled down my pants and underwear until my ass was exposed to him. I didn't have any lube because I had no idea how sex between men worked. I just knew I wanted it. I saw his dick, it was long and hard and slightly bend. I wanted it inside me. That's all I knew. So when he took cooking oil and dripped it over my ass until it was so slick it reflected light, I didn't care that it stained my bed and trousers. I just cared about what came next.
He put his pink head in between my cheeks and I immediately felt like it was the most erotic thing to ever happen to me. It felt warm and soft and it thrilled me so much I was shaking. Then it reached between my large brown buttocks and touched my asshole. Now if you're wondering, yes I did try to be as hygienic as I could and yes I also was one of those straight men who thought touching their own ass was gay. So, having someone else touch it, another man with his penis nonetheless, was a sensation.
