Chapter 26
The doubts about my sexuality were behind me by my teenage years. I’d spent my life getting involved with women, surrendering to their gentle touches and hot whispers that only they could give me. It was what I knew, what made sense. But lately, a buried restlessness was growing inside me, something I couldn’t completely ignore. A question I avoided at all costs: what if I’m not a lesbian anymore? For a lot of people, I know that’s no big deal, but for someone who’s spent their whole life waving a flag, switching teams can bring problems.
That thought came in waves, always unexpected, but more insistent each time. That’s when a guy showed up and everything started to come into focus. He wasn’t just a man; he was a force, a presence that intimidated me and drew me in equally. A friend of one of my coworkers, he had a different vibe, a piercing gaze that seemed to strip bare anyone he looked at.
That night, in the middle of a group of mutual friends, he walked into the bar like he owned the place. His big hands, the way he smirked, the well-groomed beard… everything about him oozed masculinity in a way I wasn’t sure if I admired or despised. I pretended not to notice, but he wasn’t about to let me slip away, following me with his eyes and when he got the chance to grab my attention:
“And you?” he asked, with that tone mixing curiosity and challenge. “Ever wonder if you’re only seeing half the world?”
His smile was provocative, but there was something more behind it. He seemed like he wanted to approach me differently, but he was playing the total idiot, and the funny thing was he knew it. The conversation with him was amazing, we made plans to do a million things and talked about movies, records, and authors.
And that’s exactly what happened.
A few days later, when I got his message — “Wanna go out with me?” — my reply came before I could think. “Yes.”
He picked me up at eight. When I got in the car, the air between us was tense, charged with something I couldn’t name. The guy looked at me like he’d already won, like he knew everything that came next was inevitable. Dinner was nice, but irrelevant. I couldn’t focus on the talk, distracted by the intensity of how he stared at me, like he was studying every move of mine, every word, every hesitation; I felt like prey, and that turned me on.
At the end of dinner, we came to my apartment, I confess I hesitated. My heart was pounding so hard it seemed to echo off the walls. He noticed.
“If you want me to leave, say it now.” His voice was calm, but there was a commanding edge, like he knew the answer would be “no.”
I didn’t say anything. I just opened the door, gave a nervous smile, and let him in.
As soon as the door closed, he grabbed me by the waist, his big, firm hands holding my body like he already knew exactly how I wanted to be touched. The first kiss was an earthquake. His mouth was hot, firm, demanding, and his beard scraped my skin in a way that made me moan softly; there was no awkwardness in his touch like I’d imagined.
“You taste sweet,” he murmured against my lips, before sliding his tongue along my jaw and down to my neck.
“It’s the taste of dessert,” I shouldn’t have said that, but he just gave a sly little smile instead of letting me break the mood.
His hands explored my body without rushing, but with a precision that completely disarmed me. When he scooped me up and carried me to the couch, I knew I was done for.
“Stay still,” he said, as he set me down sitting.
He knelt in front of me, gripping my thighs firmly. He did everything with this absurd confidence, he didn’t ask; he just did. His fingers slid under the fabric of my skirt, pushing it aside to expose my panties. He smiled at the lacy piece, but didn’t waste time. With a firm tug, he ripped them off and tossed them aside. For a second, I had the urge to cover myself, I got scared and even more scared when I realized I loved his raw show of attitude.
“Already wet for me?” he teased, running two fingers over my pussy and showing off their glistening wetness before bringing them to his mouth.
Before I could answer, he buried his head between my legs. His hot tongue found my clit in seconds, clumsy like guys do, and the moan that escaped my mouth was almost a scream. He licked me hungrily, alternating between quick flicks and deep sucks. That man knew exactly how to torture me, stopping every time I got too close to orgasm, only to start again with even more intensity.
“Fuck, you taste delicious.” His voice was a muffled growl, as he nipped lightly at the inner lips of my pussy.
When I finally came, it was like an explosion. My whole body shook, and I could barely breathe. And through it all, he didn’t stop, not realizing what he’d done to me.
“You can give me more,” he said, before sliding two fingers inside me and keeping at my clit.
The second orgasm hit even faster, ripping a scream from me that seemed to fill the whole apartment. I felt lost, surrendered, wanted to push him away so I could breathe, needed to go to the bathroom to pee, and that man wouldn’t stop attacking me in every way without giving me a break.
When he finally came up to my face, his lips were wet, shining with traces of me. He kissed me, making me taste my own salty flavor, before carrying me to my messy bedroom; I wasn’t expecting company.
He threw me on the bed hard, and I landed in the middle of the discarded clothes for this occasion. Then, finally, he started undressing, pulling off his shirt to reveal a broad, defined chest that made my whole body burn. When he dropped his pants, I saw the impressive bulge hidden behind the fabric, it was huge and gorgeous.
“Oh my God…” I let slip, without meaning to.
He laughed, approaching the bed with the kind of confidence only a guy like him could have.
“You’ll handle it,” he assured me, as he positioned himself between my legs and groped that monster in a rough display of masculinity.
He ran the swollen, hot head over my pussy, spreading my wetness before pressing against my entrance.
“Relax. I’ll go slow.”
The first thrust was slow, but deep. My whole body arched, a mix of pain and pleasure that left me speechless. I was pinned by my waist with force, holding me in place as he advanced, inch by inch, until he was fully inside me.
“Fuck, what a tight pussy.” He growled, his eyes locked on mine as he started moving.
His rhythm was intense, each thrust taking me deeper into the abyss of pleasure. He pulled my hair, bit my shoulder, twisted my tits, and all I could do was cling to the sheets and scream.
“Tell me how you like to be fucked,” he ordered, his voice deep and authoritative.
“Like this!” I screamed, my body shaking with every movement.
When I thought he’d finally slow down, the bastard did the exact opposite. He pulled out of me all at once, making me feel an almost painful emptiness from the absence of his cock**, and flipped me onto my stomach with a force that mixed dominance and desire. My body gave in completely; I wasn’t thinking anymore, just feeling.**
On my back to him, I felt his firm hands gripping my waist, pulling me up onto my knees. My thighs trembled as I held myself up, my face buried in the sheets while he slid the tip of his wet cock along the curve of my ass.
“You’re gonna be mine,” he said low, like he was talking more to himself than to me.
The dark-skinned man teased me, running the head between the lips of my pussy and then up to where it was forbidden. He spit on me, spreading it with his fingers, while I gasped anxiously, trying to figure out what was coming.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, but the answer was already clear in my body tensing up, resisting what was to come.
“I don’t know…” my voice came out almost a whisper, hoarse from all the moaning.
He started slow, pressing the tip of his cock against my ass, waiting for my body to yield. The initial pain was intense, like an alarm screaming for me to back off, but he knew exactly how to handle me. His hands slid down my back, his fingers caressing my skin in circles, as he invaded me inch by inch.
“Good girl…” he murmured, and there was something in his tone that made me forget the pain completely.
When he was finally all the way in, the shock of sensations was impossible to describe. His weight, the heat, the pleasure mixing with the pain, it was total chaos that left me breathless. He started moving, slow at first, but soon found a rhythm that seemed impossible to endure.
“Fuck, what a tight ass. You were born for this, you know?” He said between thrusts, his deep voice sending shivers from head to toe.
With every movement, I felt my body losing control, my whole being seemed to want to push it out and yet wanted it all there, wanted more in every empty space of my body. When I started to come, my scream was so loud it felt like it tore my throat. It was an orgasm different from anything I’d felt before, like every nerve in my body was on fire.
“You’re coming on my cock? What a surprise! Look at you… a real little slut.”
I couldn’t speak, my body shaking as he kept fucking me hard, gripping my waist so tight I knew there’d be marks in the morning. When he finally pulled out of me, I thought it was over. But for his final act, he flipped me onto my back again, his eyes locked on mine as he positioned himself over me.
“Open your mouth.” He ordered as he jerked himself off violently over my wide eyes waiting for what was coming.
Without hesitating, I obeyed. The first hot spurt hit my tongue, followed by others that dripped down my chin and chest. He held my face, spreading his cum with his fingers before pushing them into my mouth.
“Suck,” he ordered, and I obeyed, licking and sucking his fingers while looking him in the eyes.
“You look beautiful like that, all messy for me.”
I smiled, still unable to believe what had just happened. “So, that’s what sex with men is like? Damn good, I liked it!” I thought, laughing to myself. I felt like a part of me had been discovered, explored, conquered.