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I don’t remember all of it, as my first time went fast and hard, but I do remember the thrill and the passion and the insane ecstasy. I’d known about my orientation from an early age, I knew in my heart that I was not meant to love women, but that didn’t mean I didn’t yearn for those long, drawn-out romances that one often saw on the silver screen. And it certainly never occurred to me that I would give something as significant as my virginity away on a one-night-stand, as archaic as that sounded, but I felt different and I liked doing things differently. I hadn’t even registered his name, but I did register the scrape of his rough hands against my sensitized skin, and I did register the emptiness in his eyes as he held me close. I’d met him at some bar in Hackney, one of those places that I was often warned against entering, but for some reason- be it fate or just a burning need for a little recklessness- I went in anyway. Kurtköy Escort He occupied the corner seat, right up against the wall. His face was tired, his posture resigned, and I could almost feel the melancholy radiating off of him as he nursed some foul drink. He must’ve been at least ten years older than I was then, but to my teenaged mind and body, his broad shoulders and distinctly masculine face were irresistible. The dating game obviously wasn’t new to him, but he seemed hesitant, as if disbelieving as I cautiously took the seat next to him. I observed a lighter band of skin around his left ring finger, and gave him a grin, which was returned at half the intensity. “Sam,” I said, holding out my hand. “Liam,” he replied, taking it. His grasp was strong and his hands work-worn. Based on his attire, I would’ve guessed that he was a construction worker of sorts, the type that spent Kurtköy Escort Bayan the day coated in hot sweat, lifting work materials and was probably strong enough to pin anyone he wanted to a bed and fuck their brains out. Up to this point, I hadn’t really considered the ‘what if he wasn’t queer’ question yet, but based on his apparent interest, I wasn’t going to question what I hoped was sincere interest. We chatted a little, and I was right- he was a construction worker, recently divorced and beaten down by the economy, the typical middle-aged sort who felt like life had little to no meaning any more. I returned his dead pan comments with a cheerful spirit that surprised even me, but they were fueled by the baritone laugh that would escape him whenever I said something especially funny. He got me a few drinks, and by the time we were leaving the bar, I was leaning against him for Escort Kadıköy support. The blood was rushing in my ears, and I remember we stopped a few times for hot, groping kisses behind parked cars and street corners. After he let us into his small apartment, I vaguely noticed how neat it was, and then I was partly-led, partly-carried, partly-dragged into a bedroom where an unmade cot sat invitingly in a corner. We fell onto it in a heap, his hands all over me, grabbing at buttons and zippers, clumsy with passion, lips hot and red from the kissing and nipping. I was divested of my clothes faster than I could ever remember being undressed, and then his weight was poised right above my naked body, hands wandering everywhere. My breath came in gasps, words were beyond any capability, and I could only tip my head back and groan pleasurably when his mouth found my nipples, drawing them into the hot, wet confines of his mouth, tugging and pulling them till I was thrusting my hardness against his in desperate frustration. Foreplay past in a blur, it could have taken an hour and I would have been none the wiser, but I could just barely remember soft pleas breaking from my lips, wanting more from him, all from him.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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