Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2022 17:39:44 -0300 From: Matt H Subject: Bob the Sex God - gay male/first time This is a largely autobiographical (with some details changed) story about my first time and features explicit behaviour between men. Consider donating to Nifty to encourage stories like these. If you enjoy this tale, or if the real "Bob" somehow ends up on Nifty and recognizes himself, drop me a line at mhejls@gmail.com ============= I was fifteen years old and living in the same tiny farm town I'd been born in. I knew I was gay (I'd known since I was ten) but my high school was not what you'd call progressive and if there were any other gay guys among its hundred or so students, I was not aware of their existence. This town was about forty five minutes outside a city that for anonymity purposes I'll just call the Big City, even though that's a bit of a stretch - the Big City's population was maybe 200,000 people. All the Doublelist ads I looked at on my phone and occasionally jerked off to defaulted to the Big City. I had an after school job as a dishwasher at a restaurant in town and on my break I sat on the back steps and scrolled the Guys for Guys section of Doublelist. One ad caught my eye - a 41-year-old guy, staying at a hotel in the Big City for a few days the following week, looking for oral and maybe more. I liked the idea of meeting a stranger in a hotel room. They'd leave and I'd never have to see them again, and there'd be no risk of running into them somewhere and have them accidentally out me in front of my family and friends. Now, I used to respond to ads all the time without ever actually meeting anyone or even following up on my initial message. Just knowing someone had responded and there was even a mere possibility of meeting them was enough to get me so horned up that I had to excuse myself to the nearest washroom to jerk off. I typed out a reply to the 41-year-old, saying I was 18 and hadn't been with a guy before and I was curious and would be interested in meeting. I hit send. A few hours later I was hosing off the floor mats out back and saw on my phone that the 41-year-old had responded. My dick started to get hard. He introduced himself as Bob, made a joke about his dad bod, and there were a few more details I can't remember now but he seemed almost...charming? Like a casual conversation with an old friend and not the usual "Stats? What are you into?" response that other guys sent. I suddenly got nervous, because I felt like I should respond to the guy. He seemed so nice! There'd be no harm in it. I wasn't actually going to meet the guy and could just ghost whenever I wanted. I sat down on the back steps and typed out a response. I mentioned my thankless restaurant job (strongly implying I was a server and not a lowly dishwasher) and a few other details and hit send. Well! That was that. The next day at school Bob messaged me and I messaged back. He said he was impressed because I was the only person to use full sentences and actually type out words in my replies. I sent him a bunch of emoticons as a response. There were a few more flirty messages exchanged and then he asked me if I wanted to call him. He included his cell number. Now two things worth mentioning at this point: I was terrified at the idea of calling this person. He'd have my number forever, and if he was, say, a psychopath or a stalker or a murderer or just a regular pervert I assumed I'd be getting texts and calls from him until I changed my number. The other thing was, despite how charming he seemed in print, he'd never included a photograph or asked me for mine, and I found this highly suspicious and assumed, as I'm sure many people would, that he looked like Quasimodo or something. I thought about it all day, my heart pounding. It felt, unlike every other person I'd ever messaged, that there was some kind of a genuine connection here, but I couldn't give a stranger my phone number. It was, in my fifteen-year-old braun, a life-threatening proposition. But I felt I owed Bob a phone call. My school had a pay phone but the risk of a bell going off or some idiot classmate overhearing and/or interrupting was too strong and would give me away as being several years younger than my stated age. The only other pay phone I could think of was near the hockey arena so, even though it was about a mile in the opposite direction of my house, I walked over there, put in fifty cents, and dialed Bob's number over the sound of traffic on the busy street next to the arena. Bob answered. I told him it was Andy (my middle name - for whatever reason I was treating this whole situation like I was an undercover CIA agent) and we had a...nice talk. He was friendly, engaging, warm, funny. I was nervous and awkward, my trademark, but I tried to keep up. His voice was...sexy? It was a nice voice. He asked if I wanted to just go ahead and meet next week. He'd be in on Tuesday and I could either meet him for a drink in the hotel bar or just head straight to his room. I certainly wouldn't be getting served in a hotel bar so, without even really thinking about what I was saying, I told him I'd just meet him in his room. We talked a bit more, about what I can't remember, and then he hung up, as cheerful as he was when he'd answered. What had I done? I stood there with the receiver in my hand, listening to the dial tone and felt a pant of guilt for letting this (I assumed) poor disfigured hunchback think he was finally going to get laid. I made up my mind to ghost him. I woke up the next day and was sitting in math class thinking maybe I'd ask for a photo. If he was a Quasimodo I could politely decline and he would surely understand, having no doubt gone through such things many times before. But then there was a part of my brain that liked the idea that he could be anyone. I walked home from school and thought that every vaguely 40-ish guy I saw could be him. And that made me insanely horny, picturing all these random guys on top of me, in me. What their faces would look like when they came. Whatever. It didn't matter. I would never meet Bob. I didn't have a car or any non-suspicious way to get to the Big City anyway. He kept messaging me in the meantime and I kept messaging back. His Tuesday arrival getting closer and closer. We talked about normal stuff. Every once in a while he'd make a sexual comment and my dick would spring to life reading it. My guilt was getting more immense the closer Tuesday came. He genuinely seemed like a fundamentally decent human being. Trustworthy, even? I felt like a piece of shit for lying to him. And then Monday, in the middle of loading the weird rectangular dishwasher at work, I decided I'd go meet him. It was like my brain was on autopilot. I asked a coworker, Jennifer, if she'd drive me to the Big City tomorrow after school. She lived in my suffocatingly small farm town but her boyfriend lived in the Big City. She said she wasn't working tomorrow so sure why not. And I called my mom and concocted a story about my friend Alex, who'd moved away to the Big City the year previous, having a birthday party. She agreed to let me go without pressing for details. Everything weirdly fell into place. I spent the entire day on Tuesday battling my nerves. I frequently found my hands shaking. I wasn't going to have sex with Bob, of course, but I fumblingly administered my first enema in my bathroom before school with an old squeezable sports drink bottle and then ate nothing during the day, so I'd be clean. Just in case. I looked up instructions on how to give head online (wrap my lips over my teeth was the main takeaway) and how to make anal easier (deep breaths) and how to make out (massage the other person's tongue with your own, sounded easy enough). In my last message to Bob I made him assure me he'd supply condoms and lube. He said he definitely would and that he looked forward to seeing me. I must've looked freaked because when I got into Jennifer's car she kept asking me if I was okay. I made up a story about dissecting pigs in biology that day (something I'd never actually done but knew from school legend was something older students did). Forty minutes of awkward truth-evading conversation later, Jennifer dropped me off in front of the movie theatre I'd told her I was meeting Big City friends at. When her car was out of sight, I turned and walked in the direction of Bob's hotel. It occurred to me I hadn't thought of how to get home. Jennifer was gone. My mom thought I was getting a ride home from Alex's parents. Oh well, something to think about later. About ten blocks later, Bob's hotel came into view. Here's where I lose my virginity, I thought to myself, even though I was also trying to convince myself I was going to turn around and call my mom to pick me up. I walked through the lobby and made my way to the elevators. Just another guest of the hotel. I hit the button for the eighth floor - Bob's room was 806 - and rode up with a family of five, inwardly smirking and thinking that none of them had any idea I wasn't a guest too, and was, in fact, about to have all kinds of crazy sex. I stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and it was here that fear hit me like a giant invisible wall. I felt almost faint, but I had also eaten nothing all day so that might've been the real culprit. Fuck it, I thought, and I walked to 806 and knocked on the door. Oh boy. The door opened and there he was: Bob. He was not a Quasimodo, to my great relief. He wasn't a supermodel either. He was average. I know the phrase "handsome enough" doesn't sound like a great compliment but it was what I kept thinking. He was taller than me. Black hair, thinner on top, and in a few years he'd probably be bald in that area. He had stubble, which I liked, and round cheeks and a nice smile. His eyes were a crazy aquamarine colour. I couldn't look away. "Andy," he said. "Bob," I said. He held the door open and stepped aside. I walked past him into a room that had two double beds and a TV that was playing a hockey game. There was a case of beer next to the TV. Bob closed the door and motioned to the beer and said, simply, "Beer?" Another first. I'd never had a beer before. I took one, cracked it open, and drank. I sat on the bed, facing the door. He took a beer and sat on the bed, his back against the headboard, his legs pointed at the TV. He seemed amused by my obvious nervousness. "Do you like hockey?" he said. I moved down and mirrored his positioning on the other bed. "Yeah," I said. I hated hockey, and all sports. We drank beer and talked about what brought him to the city (a business trip) and what I was studying at the local university that I claimed to be attending (English). At some point we finished our beers and had a second round. We talked more. My nervousness faded and, somehow, I was getting into the hockey game? And Bob, previously handsome enough, started looking downright sexy after two beers, which had me, up until this point a non-drinker, fairly buzzed. I looked at Bob's body stretched out on the bed and wondered what he looked like naked. As if reading my mind, he said, "Want to take a shower?" There was a brief moment of panic but Bob was already off the bed and taking his clothes off in the hotel room's small bathroom. I could hear him start the shower. I got off the bed, walked toward the bathroom and there he was, standing there, completely naked. He indeed had a dad bod, average, just slightly out of shape maybe. I didn't care, my jaw was practically on the floor at the sight of another naked man standing in front of me. He was hairy in all the right places and I wondered how that hair would feel under my fingers, against my body. His dick was hard and pointed right at me. Another first - the first time seeing an erection that wasn't mine. It definitely looked like a penis. And another first - I was taking my clothes off in front of someone else. Bob watched me as I peeled off my shirt, then undid my belt and pulled down my pants and underwear at the same time, stepping out of my jeans. I took my socks off as Bob stepped into the shower. I got in with him. He was soaping up, his dick still very much erect. The head of his penis was much larger than mine and I could see from his foreskin that he was uncircumcised. I was circumcised. However, unlike Bob, I was flaccid. "Sorry," I said, looking at my dick. "I'm just nervous. It'll get there." Bob chuckled. "I wasn't worried about it." I kept staring at his dick but I wasn't sure what the protocol was. Did I need an official okay? An invitation? Finally I said, "Can I touch it?" A look of confusion flashed across Bob's face, then it faded into something else: realization. "You really haven't done anything with a guy before," he said. I shook my head. He stepped forward and rinsed the soap off himself. He turned around and motioned toward his wet, hard dick. "Be my guest," he said I gripped the shaft like it was the handle of a wheelbarrow with one hand and cupped his balls with my other hand. It was almost an out of body experience. I couldn't believe it was happening. His dick felt nice, but I wasn't really sure what to do after the initial contact. Should I try to give him a full on hand job in the shower? Bob stepped past me and moved me into the water, then began soaping me up as I rubbed the various parts of his dick and watched my own erection grow in response. He rubbed soap all over my torso and my back, then pulled me close until my chest was against his and I could no longer non-awkwardly fondle his dick. I wrapped my arms around his waist as he worked his way down to my ass crack and rubbed a soapy finger against my asshole. I shivered. Or shuddered. I'm not sure which, but this prompted another chuckle from Bob. "How's that feel?" he said, rubbing his finger tip up and down the hole. "Good," I said, my head kind of buried in his chest. "And how about this?" he said into my ear, pushing one of his fingers into my asshole. I'm not sure how to explain my reaction. I half gasped and half sighed, loudly, and kind of...dramatically. Like a Victorian lady in need of a fainting couch. I was immediately flush with embarrassment but Bob just laughed again, delighted at my inexperience. "It's good?" Bob said, amused. I nodded and muttered a noise that I hoped sounded affirmative. I could feel his finger go deeper up my ass. "How about another one?" he said, and for a moment I didn't know what he meant - another thrust? - and then a second of Bob's fingers joined the first and well...it stung a bit. Pain. But I'd read about this. It only hurts for the first little bit, then you open up. My head was kind of turned sideways against Bob's chest and my mouth was hanging open like an idiot. I could feel Bob's chest hairs on my tongue. His dick was sort of pointed up and jammed against my stomach. He moved his fingers up and down, fingering my asshole, and despite the pain I knew in that moment that I was 100% a bottom. I groan-sighed again. Bob said, "Are you going to be okay with having something a lot bigger in there?" he said and I nodded against his chest. He gave another twenty seconds of thrusts and then pulled his fingers out. My eyes were closed and my mouth was hanging open like an idiot and I felt him pull away from me and turn off the shower. "Go get in the bed," he said, handing me a scratchy hotel bathroom towel. I dried myself off standing on the bathroom floor while Bob dried himself off standing in the shower behind me. We both watched each other in the slightly foggy bathroom mirror and Bob had gone from handsome enough to someone I desperately wanted to taste every part of. He was so handsome. His body was so sexy. It was like a magic spell had been cast on me. I walked to the bed and got in it. I pulled the sheets up, cold from getting out of the shower. A moment later, Bob joined me, lying on top of me. He put his lips against mine and sort of pried then open with his tongue and suddenly I was having my first kiss, except it was very French and lasted for what felt like ten minutes. I rubbed my hands on his back. His stubble scraped against my skin. After a while he pulled his face away from mine and said, "You're good at that." "Thanks," I said. And then he was moving down, down toward my crotch, and before I could even comprehend what was happening, my dick was in his mouth. Now, I had jerked off. A lot. With lube (mostly my own spit, occasionally body wash in the shower) but it had never felt like this. This was amazing. This was something I couldn't believe. I had always assumed it'd be like jerking off but with a mouth instead of a hand. Boy was I wrong. This was incredible. Someone was sucking my dick. I was in a hotel room with another human male and he had my penis in his mouth and he was making magic happen with that mouth. I probably overuse the phrase "I couldn't believe it" but I genuinely could not believe it. I'd have pinched myself but one of my hands was in Bob's thinning hair and the other was on the arm of his that was gripping my thigh. I don't remember how long this went on. It felt like hours but could've been minutes. The hockey game was still loudly playing on the TV and I tried to focus on if but my eyes kept involuntarily shutting due to the work Bob's mouth was doing. At some point he took me out of his mouth and said, "Now me." He rolled onto his back on the bed and held his dick straight up in the air. I got up and got off the bed. I'd always wanted to blow a guy while he was standing up so I asked Bob to stand, which he did quickly and willingly. I got onto the floor on my knees. "No wait," Bob said before I could wrap my lips around the head of his dick. He tilted my chin up and bent down and stuck his tongue in my mouth. We kissed for a moment and then he pulled away and said, "That's what your dick tastes like." He stuck his tongue in my mouth again. He pulled away and stood up. I took his dick in one hand and pulled the skin toward the base so the head was exposed as possible. I looked at the giant head for a second and then wrapped my lips around it. I tried to push my head forward to go down on it but I could feel Bob pulling himself out of me. "Okay you really haven't done this before," he said. "No," I said looking up at him. "Is that okay?" He smiled, warmly, "Of course. It's just always a thing people say, `I've never done this before,' because they think it's hot to pretend to be a virgin but you're not pretending at all, are you Andy?" I shook my head, wanting that dick back in my mouth. "Okay so for uncircumcised guys," he said, "you don't want to pull the skin back, you want to bunch it all up around the head. That's where all the feeling is." He pushed his foreskin up around the head of his dick. "See?" he said. "Now you try it.". I did as instructed. "Now put that thing in your mouth, son," he said. I did as instructed. One hand gripped around his shaft to bunch up the foreskin I started sucking. Bob put both his hands on the back of my head. It was awesome. I was sucking a dick! I loved it. I could've sucked that dick all day. Cocksucker, I thought to myself. I would never think of that as an insult ever again. After awhile, Bob pulled out of me and laid on the bed. "Now get on top of me and I'll suck you while you suck me," he said. I got on all fours, his dick pointed at my mouth and my dick dangling above his. I started sucking him and he started sucking me and I got the hang of it pretty quick. I was in a 69. Another first. It also felt amazing. Sucking someone while getting your own dick sucked? Ten out of ten, would do again. And then... If I thought getting blown or having a finger in my ass or having a dick in my mouth was awesome, they all paled in comparison to what happened next. Bob pulled my dick out of his mouth and then kind of shoved my legs forward and pulled my ass down toward his chest. I continued to dutifully blow him without pause, as I didn't quite know what was about to happen, but then it happened. And holy shit. I felt his tongue on my asshole. I didn't know an asshole was capable of feeling that good. I didn't know anything was capable of feeling that good. If he'd asked me to murder someone, I would've done it, as long as continued running his tongue up and down my crack for just a little while longer. I groaned - muffled but very loudly - around his cock in my mouth. I started sucking him more vigorously. It felt like he had moved on to drawing shapes on my asshole with his tongue. I didn't stop groaning. I couldn't. I would've done anything for Bob at that point. Someone who could make me feel like that? He was a god. After I don't know how many minutes, he stopped. "So Andy," he said. "I need to take a break." I just kept sucking his dick. "You need to take a break too, sadly." I pulled my mouth off him and looked up at him. He smiled at me. He was gorgeous. "Have another beer," he said. He gently pushed me to the side, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, then got up and walked into the bathroom to take a piss. I could hear him as I cracked open another beer and sat down on the edge of the room's other bed. "Open one for me too," he shouted from the bathroom. I did as he said, holding his can in one hand while taking sips from mine in the other. I tried to concentrate on the hockey game for a moment but I kept wondering how many of those players had eaten ass. If the announcers had. How many of them had had dicks in their mouths. I wanted to start jerking off rather than holding these beers. Bob, naked, flaccid for the first time, came back from the bathroom, sat on the edge of the bed opposite mine, and took the beer from my hand. My now-free hand went to my erection and I kind of gently squeezed it. Bob sipped his beer and looked at the tv for a moment, then at me. "Having fun?" he said. "You're so fucking hot, Bob," I said, utterly entranced. He chuckled again. "I'm actually resoundingly average but thank you for saying so, Andy." "No," I said. "You're sexy as hell, Bob." He smiled at me, thinking, "Yeah?" he said. I nodded. "How much do you like my cock," he said, lifting it in his hand. It was getting hard again. "I love it," I said. I started stroking myself. "How much do you like having it in your mouth?" "So much." He nodded. "You think you might want it in your ass?" He raised an eyebrow at me, as though he couldn't already tell the answer to that question. I nodded. "Yeah." "Take your hand off your dick," he said. I did as I was told. "Stand up and face the window." I put my beer down on the floor and stood, then turned away from Bob. I could hear him get up from the bed and stand behind me. He wrapped his arms around my chest, pinning my arms to my side, and kissed my neck. "Another lesson, Andy," Bob said. "If a guy licks your asshole it means he's interested in fucking you." I took a deep, loud breath and then exhaled just as loudly. Bob was kissing my neck and my shoulders and I could feel his erection pressing against my back. "Do you want to get fucked, Andy?" I nodded. "Yeah." "You want this dick inside you." "Yeah." "How badly?" "So badly," I said. "Please put it in me." He ran his hands up and down my body as he kissed my neck. I'd never wanted anything so much. "I'm going to fuck you, Andy," Bob whispered into my ear. I groaned a little. "Now get on your back and put your legs in the air." He disengaged from me and I turned around and sat down on the bed. He walked to one of his suitcases and dug through it. I leaned back into a lying position and lifted my legs above my head, my asshole exposed to the room. Bob pulled out a box of condoms and a container of lube, the sight of which really hammered home that I was about to get fucked, actually get fucked. Bob tore open a condom and removed it. Then he squeezed some lube onto his dick and stroked it for a moment. Then he put the condom on and squeezed some lube onto that, stroking it. He walked over to me, his dick pointed at my hole, but he held up his index finger and moved it to my ass, where he then stuck it inside me, pushing it in and pulling it out. Over and over. Fingering me. "Getting you ready," Bob said, not breaking eye contact as he stuck his middle finger inside me as well. Getting me ready. Bob, my king. My master. I wanted his dick in me so bad. "Now, men have magic button," Bob said, sliding his ring finger into my ass as well. "And I'm going to hit that magic button over and over and you're going to feel so good, Andy." I was starting to wish I'd given him my real name - Luke - because I could imagine how hot it would sound when Bob said it. Maybe later. I licked my lips, I think, or did something with my tongue that prompted Bob to take his other, non-ass-widening hand and hold it to my mouth, where I started sucking on two of his fingers like they were his dick. He continued to finger me and I closed my eyes. "I want you to look at me as you feel a dick going into you for the first time," Bob said, and I immediately opened my eyes. He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and ass simultaneously and stared at me as he gripped his dick in one hand and held onto the back of my thigh with the other. We kept our eyes locked as he pushed the head of his dick against my hole and then, slowly, entered me. It felt good at first and then it passed some threshold and searing, almost unbearable pain shot through me. I closed my eyes, wincing, "Look at me!" he said. I opened my eyes as the pain increased. It was the opposite of getting rimmed. I felt like I'd never known pain like this before. I grunted, loudly, in anguish, and Bob said, "It only hurts for a little bit. Your ass is just adjusting to my cock." He got all the way in me. I could feel his balls against my ass. His dick hurt like hell. Then he started moving, back and forth. More pain. "Tell me when it starts to feel good, Andy," he said. He moved his hips backward and forward and I thought I was going to die. He watched me the whole time. I had difficulty looking at him. Maybe this wasn't going to work. Maybe I was too tight or something. I thought of leaping off the bed and apologizing and then running to the bathroom to shit loudly for an embarrassingly long time. I just kept thinking what if I shit? "Just breathe," he said, and I tried. And then... He was right. The pain did go away. All I could feel was the...not unpleasant pressure of his erection sliding in and out of me. My own dick, which had withered from the pain, was now rock hard again, and all I could think about was how hot Bob was and how much I'd wanted this. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed my hands up and down his chest. I started jerking my own cock furiously. So this was how bottoms were made. He pulled out of me and walked over to a sofa chair next to the hotel room couch. He sat down, his dick pointing up in the air. The dick that had just been in my ass. "Come sit on it," he said. I got up, walked over to the chair, got up on it and knelt, my shins outside Bob's thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck, put my forehead against his, and more or less impaled myself on his dick. I thought the second time would be easier but it still hurt...at first. I rode Bob as he sat in the chair, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Occasionally we would kiss but it was awkward, the way I was bouncing up and down. After a while he put his hands under my ass and carried me to the bed. "Get on all fours," he said, and I did, and he fucked me doggy style while I stroked my own dangling cock and he eventually pushed himself forward in a way and grunted loudly and stopped and I knew he'd just came. I moved forward, off his dick, and laid on my back, jerking myself until hot ropes of cum hit me in the chin or landed on my chest. "You're a shooter," Bob said, nodding. His condom was still on his dick, but I could see the cum pooling at the bottom. "Stay right here," he said. "I'm going to come back and fuck you again." He went into the bathroom. I laid there, spent, wondering if I even could go again. But before I knew it, Bob was back, and we were lying on our sides on the bed, him behind me, his dick pumping in and out of me as he held one of my legs in the air. His other arm was wrapped around my neck and chest and I kept licking and kissing the part I could reach with my mouth. He finished and I jerked myself to completion a second time. He asked me if I wanted to shower again and I said nah I'll just put my stuff on. I dressed and he threw on a hotel robe. He told me to grab another beer and we sat on the bed together, watching hockey. He had a hand on my thigh the whole time, like I was his. I enjoyed it. At some point he said, "So you're not a virgin anymore." I smiled and said, "Clearly I am not." It was back to pre-sex vibes. Two people having a conversation. The blood back in our heads. Friends? "Well, I hope you had a good time," he said. "I did," I said. "Holy shit." He laughed. "Well, I'm here tomorrow night too, if you want to give it a go again." I nodded. "I do. I definitely do." "I mean, I'd fuck you again right now if you were up for it." I laughed. "I don't think my ass could take it," I said. "I might need some time to recover." He nodded, getting it. We continued to drink beer and watch hockey and it got to a point where I felt like it was time to leave. I got up, gathering the few things I'd brought - jacket, shoes - and then looked at Bob in his robe on the bed. Bob the sex god. Everything we'd just done. "You know what?" I said, putting down my jacket and shoes. I took my shirt off, and then my pants and underwear. "Yes!" Bob said, excitedly jumping off the bed to get the lube and a condom. He had me lay facedown on the bed and prop myself up on my elbows. Then he laid on top of me, stuck his dick in my asshole, and fucked me. "Oh Jesus!" he said at one point. I said, "What?" all concerned. "Nothing!" he said. "It's just good!" He hadn't been that enthusiastic the previous two times and I wondered what was different but didn't ask. Eventually he came and rolled off me. I dressed and made my way to the hotel room door. "I will see you tomorrow," I said. I opened the door. "I hope you do," he said. I remembered suddenly that I had no way to get home. I closed the door and looked back at him. "You don't have a rental car by any chance, do you?" "I do," he said. I had to make up a story about roommates and commuting to university, but that drive home was technically the...sixth ride he'd given me that night?