Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2023 11:24:15 -0500 From: Jay B Subject: My Eighteenth Birthday (Chapter 1) I was eighteen when Mike first fucked me. A decade prior, Mike and his family moved into the house six doors down from ours. We would sometimes see each other as neighbors inevitably do, passing him on my way to school or running into him as I biked around the neighborhood, but our interactions back then never progressed beyond simple small talk. It wasn't until puberty hit me that I started to take notice of him. I had begun to realize my attraction to men and experimented with some guys here and there, but then a chance encounter with Mike changed everything. One day, as I made my way home, I had to park near his house because my usual parking spot was occupied. When I stepped out of my car to walk home, I saw him and stopped--there he was, washing his car and wearing nothing but shorts. By then, he was in his thirties and in good shape: six feet two, dark brown hair cropped short, swimmer's build...and a healthy bulge protruding from his groin. He must have seen me staring because he stopped to grin and wave at me; flustered, I waved back at him and quickly headed home. From that day on, whenever we'd come across each other, I would go out of my way to talk to him, secretly ogling him and basking in his presence. If my parents noticed me acting weird around him, they didn't mention it. To his credit, he always indulged me and playfully kept our conversations going. That's how I came to get to know him better: he was a stay-at-home dad while his wife worked a demanding office job; they had a baby; he had been a competitive swimmer in his youth, which explained his physique. Over the years, he became a family friend, and my parents sometimes asked him to look after me while they ran errands. It was a silly little crush. Teenage hormones suffused my body, and who better to be the object of all my fantasies than the hot guy just down the block? Like everybody else, I never expected anything to happen; like everybody else, nothing happened...until something did. The week after my eighteenth birthday, Mike invited me over to his house. He said he had something he wanted to show me, and I was all too eager to have yet another chance to be near him. In his living room, he handed me a small box; I quickly unwrapped it to find a new leather wallet. "Happy birthday," he said, smiling at me. "I thought you might like to have something new for college." It was a sweet gesture. "It's great--thank you!" I replied. I didn't care too much about the wallet itself; it meant more to me that it was a gift from him. He opened his arms, and I went in for a hug. He smelled earthy, masculine, and I was so preoccupied with his scent that I didn't realize I was hugging him longer than normal until he whispered in my ear. "I have one more thing for you." Suddenly, I felt his hand on my ass. My heart began to race. I'd imagined scenarios like this a million times ever since that day, but I never thought it would happen for real. I looked up at him, my eyes questioning, wanting to confirm for myself that I wasn't dreaming. "I know you've been thinking about me for a while now, and I have the house all to myself today," he began. "So...you like guys?" I asked. He laughed. "Sometimes." With his free hand, he cupped my face, tilting it up towards his. "But we can keep this a secret." He kissed me. A little dazed but determined not to waste this opportunity, I hugged him tighter, purposefully brushing against his groin, which was rapidly stiffening and bumped back against me. As we made out, I slipped a hand underneath his waistband to feel him. He put his hand on mine to pause me and ask, "Are you sure you want this?" I nodded. I'd never wanted anything more. "Okay." He let go of my hand and allowed me to pull his pants down to his ankles. I sank to my knees, eye level with his erection. He was uncut. It must have been just over eight inches, thick but not too thick, with a singular protruding vein running the full length. It was more than gorgeous--it was fucking sexy. I couldn't believe this was happening. I had imagined doing this for so long, I had pictured this exact scenario in innumerable ways, but the reality of it all far surpassed my wildest dreams because this was real, this was actually happening, he was there with me and I finally had him all to myself. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth. He let out a low groan. "Fuck..." By then, I'd already had enough practice blowing guys, so I knew to grip my thumb in my hands to suppress my gag reflex. I bobbed my head slowly, wanting to work the full length of him with my mouth, focused on making this the best head he'd ever gotten in the hopes that this wouldn't only ever be a once-off tryst. He worked his fingers through my hair and matched my cadence by grinding his hips. I let him fuck my face for a good while before coming up for air. He bent down to kiss me, more aggressively than before, and I reciprocated. When we pulled away, he said, "Let's go to my bedroom." It was a suggestion but sounded more like a command, and I followed him there. A bottle of lubricant and some condoms were already laid out on the adjoining nightstand; I wondered if he had planned this in advance. He pushed me onto the bed and climbed atop me, kissing me, removing both my clothes and his. I knew what was about to come next. "Stop me now if you don't want more," he panted, "because if we go any further I won't be able to hold back any longer." "Mike..." I looked him in the eyes. "I want you to fuck me." I was sincere. I had dreamt about this moment forever, and here it was. It was happening for real. He kissed me before pushing my knees into my chest. Lowering his head, he began to rim me. I squirmed. My hole is particularly sensitive, and the motions of his tongue were driving me crazy. He paused to spit onto my hole and used his tongue to press his saliva into me, slicking my insides. His every touch set my nerves on fire; I was in heat, drunk on teenage hormones. "Fuck me, Mike, please," I moaned. In response, he reached over to the nightstand. He pulled a condom on, slicked himself with lube, and positioned his tip at my entrance. "Are you ready?" He asked me. I nodded. Slowly, he pressed himself into me, pausing whenever I gasped so that I could acclimate myself to his girth. I'd bottomed a couple of times before, but Mike was just a bit thicker than anyone I'd had by then. He rocked himself into me, and I cried out when he was finally fully sheathed within me. I was completely stuffed. "Fuck, Mike," I stammered. "Here I go," he replied. His hips began to pick up speed. "Holy fuck..." Each time he thrusted into me, I felt him brush past my prostate; each time that happened, I was electrified. Lightning coursed through me, and the sensation he was eliciting from my body spread like wildfire. He wasn't just fucking me--he was slamming into me, impaling me with the force of his full body weight. I saw stars, I was incoherent. My legs beginning to shake, I was helpless underneath him, pinned down by him as he took his pleasure from my flesh. The bed began to creak, the headboard banging against the wall. "I've wanted to fuck you for so long," he growled into my ear, his arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me into a bear hug, "but I needed to wait until you were ready." I could only moan in response. I could barely think straight. He switched rhythms and began to fuck me with long strokes, pulling almost all the way out before plunging all the way back in. I felt like he was splitting me in half, and I didn't want him to stop...except to take the rubber off. "Mike," I eked out, "take it off." Between thrusts, he asked, "Take what off?" "The condom." I needed to feel him--every inch of him--without barriers. I was desperate for skin-on-skin contact. I wanted him to breed me right there, in the same bed where he probably knocked up his wife. "I want to feel you cum in me." "Yeah?" He snaked a hand under my jaw, grasping at my neck. "You want it raw?" "Please," I begged. I was getting close, I could feel the pressure building within my groin, and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. "Please, Mike." "Alright." He slipped his other hand between us and pulled the condom off, and resumed fucking me. "Oh, fuck..." Somehow, the raw friction made him feel even bigger, thicker--or maybe he was actually getting harder?--and it pushed me over the edge. I erupted, shooting strand after strand of my white fluid onto my chest. "Fuck, baby," Mike cried out. As I climaxed, my hole involuntarily spasmed around his cock, milking him. It must have been too much for him to bear, because he suddenly collapsed onto me with one final thrust, his own orgasm overtaking him. I felt his pelvis contract with every spurt shot deep into me. We laid there, neither of us speaking, chests heaving, collecting our breaths. "Well," said Mike, breaking the ice, "happy birthday." He kissed me. "Thanks for the present," I said, "but I'm going to need more from you." He grinned that same handsome smile that first charmed me all those years ago, and I instantly knew this wouldn't be the last time for us.