The first time I…

Blood, shit and a lot of cum is what I remember about my first time. I was sixteen, a couple of weeks from turning seventeen, and he was twenty-three, in the army and an asshole. Well, I didn’t learn he was an asshole until after we fucked.

Anyway, what happened was, I was trying to be grown. It was the beginning of my senior year in high school, and I had already been out for about a year, but I wasn’t doing anything serious. I went to just a couple of parties, had a first kiss, been to the club, so it wasn’t like I was totally naïve but still new.

The night I met him, I was out with my best friend who had just recently graduated from High school that past May, joined the army and was now finished with basic training and about to be shipped to Korea for two years. My best friend at the time was fucking gorgeous, lean and pretty, so you can imagine hanging out with him that night I was getting no attention. I didn’t like that at all. I was still young, hadn’t really fully grown into my looks, so in a way I was use to being his shadow, the one everyone referred to as his “ride”, that is until Vincent (his real name) came into the picture and swept me off to the bar.

I was already on my second rum and coke, watching my best friend giggle and caress against every cute guy in the club, but Vincent changed everything. When he whispered in my ear if he could buy me a drink, I automatically thought he was just trying to use me to get to my beautiful best fiend, but me being me, an opportunist, I wasn’t going to turn down a free rum and coke. We walked over to the bar, I confidently ordered my third rum and coke at age sixteen like I’ve been doing it my entire life and he paid for it. When I was about to walk away with it, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back close to him. I was now looking into his eyes and a little confuse. Of course me being the bitch I can sometimes be, and totally insecure, I violently yanked myself away from him, and told him I wasn’t my fucking best friends’ messaging service, so if he had something to say to him, he needed to do it himself, and thanked him for the drink. When I tried to walk away the second time with my free drink, he grabbed me again and pulled me closer to him, this time he was smiling. I wasn’t. I looked him up and down, and he was cute, especially when he smiled, and he was taller than me, which I liked, and young, but not younger than me. I asked him what he wanted, and he deviously said “you.” Well that changed everything. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that someone was paying attention to me, but suddenly I felt like dancing. I pulled him to the dance floor, and my stomach was feeling hot, and my head kind of light, but the music moved my soul. We danced so close, hip grinding close, and when I could feel him rise, I would pull away because it made me rise, but he kept pulling me back, like a wave in an endless ocean, overflowing and out control and I just knew I was going to drown. We were dancing, dicks hard and sweating, and then he took off his shirt and wiped the sweat off my forehead. I guess it was a romantic gesture or a ploy to hook me, because there we were, him bare-chested, the streaming lights hitting every curve and muscle in his six pack chiseled stomach and I found myself falling, to my knees, well that would happen a couple of hours later. When we were talking, I think I told him I was nineteen years old and a student at the University, and I know he told me he was in the army and just turn twenty-three, so he had no idea when he was licking my belly button later, that he was committing a felony.

I don’t remember how it happened, I think he told me I should come back to his apartment, to talk, and it wasn’t like it was a school night, or that I had a curfew, because I didn’t. I was living with my older sister, after just recently moved out of my grandmother’s house because the bitch was ruining my social life.

I don’t remember being nervous, but excited to talk. I thought in a way I had found my soul mate, someone who saw me in spite of my best friend’s beauty, and wanted me, not him, but me!!

Vincent was so charming and classy. He kept telling me that I was beautiful, and was laughing at all my jokes. We talked about so many things that I can’t remember, but it all came to a silence when he asked me “ Are you a top or bottom?” I didn’t have an answer and told him I didn’t know. He kissed me. The heat from his lips numbed my body, and I found myself crushed underneath him, kissing him back, wanting him as much as he wanted me, out of control, and knowing from the raging fire brewing at the bottom of my stomach that I wasn’t going to refuse anything he asked of me.

Slippery naked and spread out on his bed, I knew I was way over my head but I couldn’t stop. His hard chiseled naked body was pressed roughly against mine, and I could feel the weight of his hard dick on my back, which poetically blended his sticky tongue in my ear, biting and caressing and abusing my weak spot, and then moving to my neck, like a snake, onto my back and down it’s empty river, stopping at the small of my back and biting gently. I was laying so still, not wanting to disturb the groove, wondering what he was going to next, and that is when he moved into a part of my body that was so intimate, that no one before him had ever visited, especially a man, and Vincent was man, musk, facial hair and everything. What he did next, I didn’t even know men did that to other men.. He placed his warm hands on my ass and spread the cheeks apart, leaving the middle vulnerable and sensitive to the stale breeze in the air, before he buried his face down there and stuck his tongue in. I was so sensitive and could feel everything, his lips, his tongue, his smile, and the hotness of his breathe, the heaviness of my breath, him spreading me wider, and biting gently with his teeth, me purring and try to fight it, try not give in, try to not show pleasure, try not to feel like a bitch, his bitch, but I was losing and my moans were the evidence. He turned me over and started attacking my nipples. My right nipple has always been my favorite but he was on my left, making me want him more, so I moved his head to my right nipple and he smiled because I was now participating. I was touching him back. I pulled myself off the bed and started kissing his neck, rubbing my hands across his stomach, very innocent until he took control back and stuck his dick in my mouth. At first I refused, because he was so big; I mean really big, porno star big. It was thick, long and black, and in my mouth, it filled me up, making my jaws weak. I tried for a couple of minutes but it was too much, so I pulled him out of my mouth, his monster, and it feel heavily still erect and very wet with my spit. He turned me back over on my stomach, this time kissing even harder, touching deeper, and we were moving so fast, like a hurricane, and I found myself spinning. I remember thinking to myself that he was never going to get that monster inside of me, so I must’ve thought about him fucking me, but I wasn’t ready. He was so big, at the least 11 inches and thick. It was going to hurt. I remember thinking when he was down there the second time, him and his tongue penetrating into my black hole, that I knew he was going to try and I was gong to let him, but I had faith it was never going to happened. What was supposed to happen, was that he would give up after a couple tries, tell me that I was too tight and that be the end of it. I wasn’t worried.

He pulled out a brown bottle with fluid in it and asked me to sniff it. I saw him do it, so I did it and didn’t ask any questions. My head suddenly went very light, and I felt really hot, like I wanted him inside of me, and before I knew it , and much to my chagrin, this surge of unbelievable pain went soaring through my body and I cried out like a wounded animal, because he was inside of me. He told me to relax, to stop screaming but it was hurting so fucking much and he kept pounding and I tried to be silent, to let it just happened, so I bite my bottom lip and took it like a man.

I felt him when he shot. I mean, I really felt him and haven’t felt a man do it the same way since. I felt the pressure, it building up, and then him exploding inside of me like a fireman’s hose. I felt it, all him oozing out, and it was like thunder and then rain, flooding my insides. Yes, I was in pain, but for those seconds, I felt euphoric, a certain sense satisfaction, that my body was capable of creating such a storm and it seemed worth it, that is until he pulled out and I was empty again, except for his waste.

When it was over, I remember laying there thinking so many things. I was happy it was over, I was also happy that I pleased him. I kept thinking that I was officially gay and not a virgin in any sense of the word anymore. I also remember how quickly the room went cold. He was no longer smiling, but stiff and withdrawn as if he just emptied his soul in me. He kept going on about how I couldn’t spend the night and how he had to get up early in the morning and how he doesn’t do relationships. Just moments before he was saying that he was going to worship me, that he was going to call me just to tell me how sexy I was and all of that bullshit I obviously fell for. I remember asking to use his bathroom because suddenly I had to shit all the cum his just shot of my ass. It was painful, the bathroom and when I went to wipe my ass, I saw the blood, shit and cum.
It was staring back at me, the fact that I didn’t use a condom. I remember leaving quickly and him telling me that he was going to call me and he did, like two weeks later. I remember driving home, feeling ashamed and used. He didn’t even try to get me off, he didn’t even care. I remember getting into the shower at home and crying. because I was still dealing with so much, still coming to terms with being gay and facing the reality that I might’ve just fucked up my life. The irony is that after all those years of sex education from the time I was in elementary school, in one brief second of passion, it was all so quickly forgotten. It took me two agonizing years to get tested. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about it. I finally built up the strength to get tested, and I was negative. I never really trusted men after Vincent. I learned quickly the cruelty that comes with “living the life,” that there are too many asshole out there who don’t give a fuck about anyone else, just trying to get their nut and don’t care who they use or what they got or give, and no one can be trusted and the simple fact is: if you aren’t responsible to yourself, you can’t expect anyone else to be!