The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains explicit sexual acts and language, so please discontinue reading if you are underage.

Hungry for Sex

Part 1: Meeting Dean

by hottcarter1987

My name is Cody, and I'm a 19-year-old gay boy. This is my story of how I met, and was seduced by, one of the most stunning guys I've ever met. In the process I also found out how I found out that actions have consequences and how what I thought I was really wasn't what I was. I'll explain.

I've always known I was gay, even from a young age. I always found myself attracted to other boys and men, but I didn't know why until I turned 11. That's when my best friend at the time played a game of “you-show-me-yours-I'll-show-you-mine” when I was playing in the basement of his house. He was a year older, and it was the first time I'd ever seen a cock besides mine. To say I was fascinated was an understatement, and when he saw I was hard, he showed me how to masturbate. It wasn't long before we did that together on a regular basis, and when we started cumming together, I knew I was definitely gay.

On my next birthday, my friend introduced me to blowjobs—first sucking my cock himself and then telling me to do his, of course. The moment he got his cock in my mouth, I knew I was quite pleased to be gay because of the overwhelming feelings it gave me to pleasure my friend. I enjoyed feeling his penis in my mouth and throat, and my whole body shuddered in lust as his spunk shot into me—the sensational sweet/salty taste of it drove me out of my mind. He told me I was a hot cocksucker, and I enjoyed the thought that I could make him feel good.

My friend and I fooled around another couple of years until his family moved away. Most of my teen years were spent sucking off other guys my age. I was not out of the closet per se, but most of the guys knew I could satisfy them when needed, usually when their girlfriends wouldn't put out or refused to give head. Sort of a secret guy thing, you might say. I developed into a successful little submissive faggot, and I enjoyed being face-fucked and talked dirty to when aggressive guys used me. A couple of guys on the football team in high school liked getting me just outside the football field where there was a forest of trees and taking turns with my mouth, calling me “bitch” and “boy whore” or whatever they liked while they used me for a cum dump.

Until I turned 19, however, I had never gone all the way and gotten fucked. Sure, I fingered my ass when I jacked off, and I stole a dildo from my sister (she wouldn't dare complain she lost it to our parents or to me) and used it on myself. But I was always kind of nervous about getting screwed, especially with the quarterback of the football team as his cock was massive. Just sucking it made my jaw ache for hours afterward, and I always said no to him when he asked me to, as he put it, “tap my pussy with his baby-maker.”

After high school, with my parents not able to afford college for me, I went straight to work. I landed a nice job at the music store at the mall. It paid okay, and the hours were cool. Sometimes it was difficult as a lot of hot guys would come in, and my dick would sprout some pretty bad boners, but I was able to control it most of the time. Other than that little difficulty, I liked my job and even got a raise by the time I turned 18. Not long after, my sexual life took a real turn.

One afternoon I was working, helping an older lady find some classical music (I'm pretty versed in all kinds of music, from classical to heavy metal and everything in between). When I'd found some Beethoven and Bach for her, I turned around and saw a gorgeous hunk strut into the store. He was at least 6 feet tall, nicely tanned, with wavy blond hair that came just down to his neck. He had full, thick lips that showed pearly straight teeth when he smiled. His frame didn't look bulky, but he was well-toned. Compared to me—at 5-feet-7 with shoulder-length black hair and a thin frame—he was a giant. He looked a bit older, maybe 21 was my guess, and he was moving with a certain cocky confidence. I went up to the front of the store to my station at the cash register just to get a better look...and to hide my waist behind the counter as I was starting to sport wood. The stud was wearing a black motorcycle jacket (I love leather) and very tight faded jeans which showed off a huge package. Had I been in a different place, I'd have been on my knees in a second.

He walked over to the counter and asked me in a husky voice, “Hey, man, whassup?”

I swallowed and stammered out, “H-H-Hello. W-Welcome to Music World. Can I help you?”

He grinned at me, and the earring he sported in his left ear twinkled a bit. “Yeah, you have any old-school metal? Like Guns N' Roses or Poison?”

“S-Sure,” I replied. I led him to the metal section. “Everything's right here.”

“Thanks, dude,” he said as he started flipping through the CDs on the rack. “A friend of mine messed up some of my discs at a party, but he gave me money for new ones. I love this older shit. Gets me pumped.”

Thinking I'd like to pump him dry, I managed to maintain composure and asked, “Anything in particular you lookin' for?”

“Appetite for Destruction and Flesh and Blood,” he said, naming the best known CDs from both the groups he had mentioned.

“Two of my favorites,” I said offhandedly. I looked up and saw someone ready to check out, so I excused myself and went back to work. The whole time I was ringing up the purchase, I was fantasizing about getting in that stud's pants, but I knew it'd be a long shot at best. He was probably straight, I figured, and any come-on wouldn't work on him. No sooner than I thought this, he stepped behind the customer in front of me, and I felt my dick pressing hard into my jeans.

He came forward when it was his turn to pay and said, “Thanks, dude. I owe ya one...Cody.” He was looking at my name tag.

I rang up his purchase, thrilling at the sound of my name coming from him. “No problem.”

“Name's Dean, dude.” He smiled at me. “When you get off work, man?”

I nearly fainted when he asked this. “Uh, in about a half-hour.” Was my luck gonna pay off?

“Cool,” Dean said. “I'll get ya somethin' to eat. I just moved here a month ago, and I don't know a lot of people. You seem cool enough, and you know your music shit. If you want, we can hang.”

Being bold, I said, “That'd be cool. Where'd you like to meet?”

“You have a ride?”

“No, I live close enough I walk to work.”

“Not today,” Dean said. “I'll pick you up on my Harley in half an hour.” He winked at me and left. My heart was now racing, and I worked with a hard-on for the rest of the shift. I was excited for sure, but I had no idea at that time what lie in store for me.