Little Golden Book's "My First Awkward Hookup"
Pull up a chair, fellas, for tonight I have a story for you.
So, tonight was supposed to be the night MySpace man and I met. And we did, of sorts.
Let me back up a bit: Vaughn had added himself to my Myspace (yes, I know, who uses MySpace? Regardless) because we were both using the same app and, I admit it, I added him back because he was hot. Seven feet and 350 pounds of bearded -- but presumably straight -- woofiness. Then he writes me a letter.
"I'd like to suck your cock -- is that possible?"
We've been corresponding for a month now. He explained to me that he had been fantasizing about being with another man since he was fifteen, but at the age of 30 he'd yet to do anything about it, and that he'd always thought of himself as bisexual.
So we make a plan: after dinner, I'd meet him at a mall not far from me, and we'd talk, and I'd show him how to get back to my place. At least, that was the plan.
I felt my phone vibrate repeatedly as he texted me various pieces of information about where he was in the mall complex, what kind of car he was driving, and the like. I felt my heart race as I hiked to the mall, knowing that there was a beast of a man waiting there for me, wanting me to be his first taste of gay sex. In the texts he admitted being nervous and scared, and it made me think of my first time, and how I almost chickened out before I met up with Gary.
I finally managed to find his car, and I opened the passenger door. Inside this Chrysler was a big man sandwiched in the driver's seat, the steering wheel between his giant legs. His bearded face smiled at me, but I could see the fear immediately.
We talked. He began to ease up a little as we talked about his father, who highly disapproved of gay ANYTHING, and how he was so apprehensive about being here, with me. He said with a chuckle, "I thought you'd be bigger," commenting ony my small frame. I smiled back.
Suddenly, his big hand grabbed my crotch, and he rubbed my throbbing cock through my camo pants. "Let me see it," he said, and I took my seven inches out which was soon dwarved by his large hands. He stroked, and he admitted, "God, I already want to see you again!"
I confessed I was thinking he wouldn't show up, but that he seemed different. He smiled, and blushed a bit. "You said you like to kiss, right?" I nodded, his hand still on my cock.
"Prove it."
I had to lunge on him, and soon his beard was pressed in my face, his tongue filling my mouth. My God, for a presumably straight man, he was a fantastic kisser. I sat back down and he stroked my cock some more. "I can't wait to taste that," he muttered. He then leaned over and kissed me more.
I couldn't wait to give him the directions back to my place, to take his clothes off, to taste him, for him to taste me.
That's why it was so disappointing. We finally got to my apartment building, and he was hesitant to get out. I waited, sensing something wrong. He finally lumbered out, his full towering height rising over my own. "I'll be up shortly. Your apartment's 422, right? Top floor?"
I went up, and I waited. Soon, I felt the phone vibrate.
"Im sorry i cant do this. i wanted to but it doesnt feel right. im sorry."
I ran out to the parking lot, where I saw the back lights of his car illuminate as they shrunk in the distance.
I relayed this story to my friend Lance. "Well he'll come around," he commented. "He's probably thinking of what happened now, and probably masturbating overi t. What he needs now is time. But I'm sure he'll come around."
It was disappointing. I'm apparently a bad start-off gay man, as this "I can't do this" spiel has already happened once to me...
So, tonight was supposed to be the night MySpace man and I met. And we did, of sorts.
Let me back up a bit: Vaughn had added himself to my Myspace (yes, I know, who uses MySpace? Regardless) because we were both using the same app and, I admit it, I added him back because he was hot. Seven feet and 350 pounds of bearded -- but presumably straight -- woofiness. Then he writes me a letter.
"I'd like to suck your cock -- is that possible?"
We've been corresponding for a month now. He explained to me that he had been fantasizing about being with another man since he was fifteen, but at the age of 30 he'd yet to do anything about it, and that he'd always thought of himself as bisexual.
So we make a plan: after dinner, I'd meet him at a mall not far from me, and we'd talk, and I'd show him how to get back to my place. At least, that was the plan.
I felt my phone vibrate repeatedly as he texted me various pieces of information about where he was in the mall complex, what kind of car he was driving, and the like. I felt my heart race as I hiked to the mall, knowing that there was a beast of a man waiting there for me, wanting me to be his first taste of gay sex. In the texts he admitted being nervous and scared, and it made me think of my first time, and how I almost chickened out before I met up with Gary.
I finally managed to find his car, and I opened the passenger door. Inside this Chrysler was a big man sandwiched in the driver's seat, the steering wheel between his giant legs. His bearded face smiled at me, but I could see the fear immediately.
We talked. He began to ease up a little as we talked about his father, who highly disapproved of gay ANYTHING, and how he was so apprehensive about being here, with me. He said with a chuckle, "I thought you'd be bigger," commenting ony my small frame. I smiled back.
Suddenly, his big hand grabbed my crotch, and he rubbed my throbbing cock through my camo pants. "Let me see it," he said, and I took my seven inches out which was soon dwarved by his large hands. He stroked, and he admitted, "God, I already want to see you again!"
I confessed I was thinking he wouldn't show up, but that he seemed different. He smiled, and blushed a bit. "You said you like to kiss, right?" I nodded, his hand still on my cock.
"Prove it."
I had to lunge on him, and soon his beard was pressed in my face, his tongue filling my mouth. My God, for a presumably straight man, he was a fantastic kisser. I sat back down and he stroked my cock some more. "I can't wait to taste that," he muttered. He then leaned over and kissed me more.
I couldn't wait to give him the directions back to my place, to take his clothes off, to taste him, for him to taste me.
That's why it was so disappointing. We finally got to my apartment building, and he was hesitant to get out. I waited, sensing something wrong. He finally lumbered out, his full towering height rising over my own. "I'll be up shortly. Your apartment's 422, right? Top floor?"
I went up, and I waited. Soon, I felt the phone vibrate.
"Im sorry i cant do this. i wanted to but it doesnt feel right. im sorry."
I ran out to the parking lot, where I saw the back lights of his car illuminate as they shrunk in the distance.
I relayed this story to my friend Lance. "Well he'll come around," he commented. "He's probably thinking of what happened now, and probably masturbating overi t. What he needs now is time. But I'm sure he'll come around."
It was disappointing. I'm apparently a bad start-off gay man, as this "I can't do this" spiel has already happened once to me...