Sharing and comparing sexcapades with your friends is always fun. The story of how someone loses their virginity is, more often than not, thoroughly awkward. Which is why the story of how my cherry was popped receives a lot of dropped jaws, devilish grins, and erections.
The summer going into my junior year of high school yielded some fairly uncomfortable heat waves. Fortunately, my house had a pool so I would always invite friends over to hang out. You can imagine how thoroughly annoyed I was when we started having plumbing issues and lost access to it. A plumber was quickly hired to fix it and, since our house was fairly old, check on the bathrooms and kitchen as well. Luckily for me, the person they hired was a gorgeous Hispanic man in his mid-twenties. Sparks flew when our eyes met.
Okay, I may have simply projected my filthy thoughts and desires to make up an entire romance in my head. One day I had the house to myself because everyone was at church, which would lead to lunch and errands, so we would be alone together for a few hours. Left at home with the hunky plumber, I decided to make my move. I didn’t have much, if any, prior experience with anyone so my nerves got to me and I opted to run up to and lock myself in my room instead.
Despite jerking off and cumming to the thought of this man ravaging me while no one was home, I remained uncomfortably horny. Thinking a cold shower would help, I made my way to the bathroom and washed the cum off my body but my dick wouldn’t go down. Taking a deep breath, I fastened the towel around my waist, and walked downstairs to the kitchen where he was working on the sink.
“So, um… how much longer will it take to fix everything?” I asked, shaking feverishly, as I tried to flirt with a man who was probably ten years older than me. “I should be finished with everything next week,” he replied dryly, which was in stark contrast to how his shirt, wet with perspiration, was sticking to his chiseled abs. It was now or never, so I dropped my towel in front of him as my mind raced with the possible outcomes. He could beat me senseless, chop my body into pieces, and bury the remains where no one would find me. He could stare at me in confusion, return to work, and I would die of shame. The last option was the least plausible in my mind. Poking his head out from underneath the sink, he looked around and asked, “Is anyone home?”
Taking that question as a green light, I met his lips with mine and began exploring his hard body with my hands. “Do you want to go to your room in case someone comes home early?” he asked as he began to finger my hole. We made our way to my bedroom, locked the door behind us, and jumped into bed. He was taking off his shirt but abruptly stopped to survey his surroundings. Plastered across the walls were posters of Pokémon, Britney Spears, and NSYNC which complimented the Space Jam bed sheet set we were sitting on. “I’m, uh… turning eighteen in a month,” I lied to save the situation.
That was enough to convince him, so he laid next to me with his arms above his head, allowing me to appreciate the full view of his beautiful, tanned body. He had tattoos that wrapped around his arms, shoulders, and back. I didn’t know what any of it meant, but I didn’t care. He was so sexy. Overcome with lust, I fumbled for his belt when he asked if I enjoyed sucking dick. I don’t know, I thought, this is my first time naked with a man. As if he sensed my nerves, he casually removed his jeans to reveal a thick, heavy, uncut cock. It was almost the size of my forearm and large enough to need two hands, I was mesmerized.
I may be many things, but a quitter is not one of them, so I licked the tip of his head as I tried to fit the whole thing in my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head with both hands and rhythmically guided my throat further down his shaft until I got to the base. I started to gag, so he eased back and allowed me to go at my own pace. I was in complete ecstasy as I knelt before him and worshiped his beautiful cock. As I relaxed into it, he began to test my limits and thrust his dick deeper and faster down my throat.
Looking up at him with tears starting to well in my eyes, he asked if I was a bottom. Nodding obediently, I licked up his precum before shuffling through my underwear drawer for the condoms and lube packets I procured from this year’s Pride parade. I turned around to present him with the option of strawberry or regular. He smiled devilishly, pulled out a packet of Trojans from his jeans, and said, “Those might be a little tight on me. Let’s try these instead.” Taking a lube packet from me, he slicked two fingers, and tried to slide them both in at once. “Damn, you’re a tight, little fucker!” He held me down gently but firmly as I tried to inch away in pain as he pushed the head of his dick against my tight, virgin hole. He drew me into a kiss as he instructed me to breathe. Inhaling, I felt him start to enter me. I exhaled as he pulled out. He gradually increased the stroke between each breath and filled me deeper with each thrust.
I don’t claim to be a size queen, but I seem to always find the biggest dicks. He was an amazing lover and an even better first. What made that experience memorable, aside from being the first time I bottomed, was that he was very communicative with and asked me if I wanted to stop, slow down, or go deeper. Afterwards, we showered together. He smiled at me as he put his clothes back on, went down to the kitchen, and back to work. Everyone returned home an hour or two later and wondered why I was in such a great mood.