Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2022 15:24:43 +0100 From: Todd Mitchell Subject: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom - Chapter 5 Author: Richard Saw Categories: Adult Friends, Athletics I've been a long-time reader of Nifty, adoring fan of so many writers. This story: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom was a book that I published via Amazon. I no longer sell it, but I decided that people here might like to read it, and the sequel that I never published. Characters in these stories do feature in my Holmes & Watson mystery novels (available on Amazon, search Richard Saw), so if you like a little mystery novel (with lots of sex and humour), please do look them up. But I promise that all of the good stuff will be in these stories. And yes, do send me fan mail. And more importantly, please remember to donations to Nifty (using link https://donate.nifty.org/). Your erections are in their hands! In this Chapter our hero questions whether dating the boss was such a good idea, and he meets someone who opens his eyes to the idea that sex doesn't have to be all one way... The Tale of An Aussie Rugby Bottom, who also liked to Top - Chapter 5 It suddenly occurred to me that I had no real friends in London. Well at the very least, no one that I could talk to about this situation. Frustrated and a little confused, I resorted to the only thing I was capable of doing and I texted Bryce from my rugby team. Since Gordon had disappeared from my life, I'd been less able to resist Bryce's insistence that I party with he and his mate, Keith. They informed me that they had a big day planned, starting at the gym, and insisted that I come along. Interestingly, I found myself back at the gym closest to Old St. I reflected that it had only been a few months ago that I had met Max here and he had changed my life. Well maybe not so much changed as given me some unexpected guidance. I looked around to see if he was there but no such luck. Strangely I wasn't embarrassed by the thought of bumping into him and now I even found myself willing to check out my team-mates bodies though. I couldn't remember if I found them hot when I first meet them. While Keith was the big, silent type, Bryce was one of those guys who acted like he was on caffeine the whole time. He'd jump around, pumping himself up, flexing his biceps and insist on a high-five after every set. Keith of course, would just frown and put more weight on before hammering it out. He sulked a little bit if he didn't complete the set though and Bryce would have to rub his muscles down before he could continue. Right there in the gym, watching these two act out their bromance, I came to the conclusion that I didn't know what I wanted, but being with Jonathan all the time was not it. The sex had been fun, the working and the relationship was great, but I was too young for this, too young to be wedded to one man, a man of course who had a real wife as well! It became clear to me that I needed to change my life, but I had absolutely no idea how to go about doing it. So I did what I'd done before in the past. I let Bryce and Keith drag me along on whatever they are doing, and I smiled and pretended to be one of them. I trained with them, matching them weight for weight and then we went and had a big steak dinner washed down with plenty of beers at the pub. Then we all headed off to The Church -- a notorious straight nightclub that was the last place that I usually would have wanted to be. But now I knew that I didn't want this -- this straight life -- I felt secure that I could play along. We stripped down to the tightest clothes we could find, ones that made our muscles pop out the most and we headed off. Apart from getting drunk I was determined to hit on every girl I could find and go home with none. It felt totally liberating to be in control of the lie. I amused myself by trying to convince Bryce that the girl he wanted to hook up with would go with him if he kissed me. He really wanted her but even loaded, he was a bit queasy at the thought of kissing a dude. Just as it looked like nothing was going to happen, I heard a growl from behind me and Keith stepped up, grabbed his `bra' in a tight embrace and forced his tongue down Bryce's throat. The girl looked mighty impressed, and Keith released Bryce almost straight into her arms. "You do that for a bra," Keith mumbled. I was surprised to realise that he was drunk, I'd imagined that he could handle this liquor better than that. "You'd do the same for me?" I joked. "You don't need me," Keith slurred as two more girls headed towards me. Yeah there was no doubt I was the coolest guy there that night and I had plenty of girls who wanted to dance with me. It was about three am when I left the club and I finally looked at my phone to check my messages. There were lots from Jonathan and he wasn't happy, but I was too drunk to be concerned. I had planned to go back to my place but the alcohol made me horny and overly relaxed so I thought that Jonathan might appreciate a night-time booty call. I tried to creep in and surprise him in bed but as soon as I took more than a couple of steps inside the flat, Jonathan appeared out of the gloom in just a pair of boxer shorts. "What the hell sort of time do you think this is?" he roared. I smirked back at him and ripped my shirt off before flexing my muscles, "Oh yeah!" I growled and dropped to my knees, fishing his cock out of the slit in his boxer shorts. It was always a couple of inches long, so it was easy for me to wrap my lips around it and start working. My action was able to dissipate Jonathan's anger somewhat but the moment he broke away, I could clearly see the fury in his expression. He pulled me up by the ear and dragged me to the bathroom. "You're a bloody badly trained mutt is what you are and one who needs to be taught a lesson. Get out of those fuckin' clothes right now and get in the tub." I struggled out of them, sweaty as I was and eventually as I slipped on the tiles, Jonathan lost patience and began to tear them off. "On your hands and knees," he barked. I did as he said and almost instantly I felt a warm trickle of piss splash against my back. I involuntarily cried out but instead of finding it humiliating as I was clearly supposed to, the warm piss felt pleasant, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I sat there, head bowed and waited for him to finish. "Now have a shower and come into the bedroom straight away. You're sleeping at the foot of the bed you mangy little mutt." I was too drunk and too horny to care and after a thorough scrubbing and more than one finger up my arse, I struggled into the bedroom and fell into a deep sleep on the thick carpet with just a pillow for company and my hands wrapped around my cock which seemed determined not to go down. The following morning I woke up early and snuck back into bed. Jonathan didn't seem to notice a thing though and spooned me until he also woke up. Then he fucked me harder and longer than ever before. I was still hung-over from the previous night, so I gave no resistance. Eventually however my arse became sore and raw, but Jonathan seemed oblivious to my complaints. His cock drove into me, each punch hitting my prostrate like it had never been touched before. My cock was awake, hard, and drooling, bouncing up and down from the movement. I started to say that I was sore, I started to plead that I wanted to cum, but he seemed to pay me no heed. He pulled out so savagely that I howled in pain. But he wasn't finished with me. He twisted me over, threw me onto my back and dove back in. I screamed in pain as tears flooded down my face and unlike my encounter with Ian, there was nothing in my system to protect me, no drugs to make it easier. After he'd hammered me good a few more times he pulled out, yanking off the condom and came all over my chest. The angry look on his face didn't change after it and he stepped away, leaving me erect and desperate to cum. To tease him a little for what anyone else would have concluded was highly rude behaviour I said, "I'll bring myself off then shall I?" Instead of laughing like I expected, he just snarled, "When I tell you to be home, you be home, ok?" He left the flat almost straight afterwards and I spent most of the day recovering from my hang-over. Later in the day I got text messages from Jonathan apologising for his angry tone and I ... well I was going to say that I forgave him, but I was beginning to wonder exactly where things were going and if I wanted to be in that place when they happened. I spent Sunday night at my own flat, but it felt lonely. My time in the office felt lonely as well. Now that the project was back on schedule I was sent back to my original team where I seemed to have little to do and everyone in the team was exceptionally quiet around me in case I reported anything they said back to Mr Beauchamp. Jonathan did catch up with me late on Monday afternoon however to plead that I stay over again. I agreed but we didn't have sex for a couple of nights. I started to cook dinner or order take-away for him and after we finally fucked on Wednesday he aggressively pushed again for me to give up the lease of my own flat and move into his place. I think I finally said yes but he didn't realise that I was lying just for the peace and quiet. On Friday one of the guys on my work team decided we should all go out for drinks. It sounded like an innocent enough idea plus I needed to be seen as one of the team so just before we left, I dropped by Jonathan's office to tell him I'd be out late with my team. I mean he couldn't object to that, could he? Well it turned out he could. Loudly. With the door closed at least, so that was good. But loudly. Apparently I was selfish, childish and a hell of a lot of other things. Oh yeah, I didn't take our relationship seriously, that's right. This tirade went on for about ten minutes until I could stand it no longer. I walked out of the office, walked to my team leader, gave in my notice, cleaned my desk out and just kept walking. No one stopped me, no one questioned me, probably no one even put two and two together. I went back to his flat, picked up everything I knew was mine, left the keys with the concierge and went back to my own place. I knew that whatever would happen I probably wouldn't be able to afford the rent on this place either, so I sent an email to my landlord giving my notice. I don't know why I was so intent that day on destroying my life, but I guess I'd just had enough. I left the flat and just walked and walked until I had calmed down. I can't recall how I ended up at the George & Dragon in Hackney but there I stood in the crowded bar, wearing my favourite Aussie rugby tank top, a pair of cargo shorts, my flip flops and nursing a pint of beer -- all alone. Around me the crowd were scene hipsters and camp twinks ... and little hipsters and scene twinks and camp scene twinks that looked like hipsters and well, you get the idea -- I was well drunk by this point. Of course in that state all you see is how everyone else has things worked out and you don't. I leant against the wall, rested my beer on a ledge and watched. I'd never been a wallflower exactly -- I had always been too big for that -- but I'd had long experience at not drawing attention to myself in case my secret was exposed. But after more pints then I need I was able to relax as I realised no one was really bothering me. Until the time, so late in the evening that the summer sun had completely disappeared that Mat came over to me. He was a tall -- about 6ft 2 -- but apart from that a typical hipster I guess. I say that because he had a thick beard, before everyone seemed to have a beard, a baseball cap at a jaunty angle on his head, tight jeans, Doc Martins, and a loose singlet that exposed his right nipple every time he took a sip of his beer. OK so maybe my sense of observation got clearer the more I drank, or it was some invisible attraction that drew us together than night, who knows? "Hey mate," he said as he came over, leaving his friends behind. If he had been drinking to get his confidence up then it wasn't noticeable. He sounded as if he was as sober as a judge but as friendly as the boy-next-door. "Having a good night?" "Yeah," I smiled but it was hard to say positive. I wanted to frown but I'd never been good at either keeping my emotions in check or staying grumpy for too long. "It's been a crappy day." "Sounds like you need to change things up a bit," he grinned through the beard. "Boy do I," I moaned, leaning back a little so that my chest rose up a bit more. Why did I do that? Did I like this guy? Is that the reason why I'd noticed every detail about him? "So what are you going to do about it?" he said. I looked at him, a bit lost for words. "I don't know. What do you suggest?" "You could buy me a drink," he smiled. If I didn't know how fraught my emotions were I would have declared that I loved him there and then. Luckily I knew better. I scowled and folded my arms across my pecs for just long enough to make me look tough. "Alright," I then said, as if I was reluctantly agreeing. I soon found out that Mat was my age and studying at film school. He lived in East London in some ramshackle old building with plenty of space for all the art projects that his fellow housemates did. He came from `Up North' but unlike me he carried none of the baggage you'd expect -- or at least what I'd expect him to carry. He worked in a bar some days to pay the rent, but he seemed unconcerned by all the things like money and a career. Or maybe it was just the beer. He placed a casual hand on my biceps and then on my arse, but he didn't seem fazed or impressed by either. I felt a little deflated until he said that I had nice eyes. Not even my old girlfriend had ever said that to me. If the universe had been badly behaved when it pushed me together with Ian, then I was being rewarded with the perfect introduction to Mat. We continued to talk all through the evening, him explaining what his final year student film project was going to be and how he was constantly seeking new actors for the unfinished scenes. I found it fascinating and invigorating to talk to someone who knew what they wanted to do with their life. I blurted out in response that I'd always been fascinated by restaurants ever since I was a kid. I didn't want to be a chef, I wanted to do the whole thing, I wanted to manage it, be the maître d'. Then I told him how I'd paid off all my student loans by working in restaurants and I quickly progressed up the ladder to managing them and by the time I finished my degree I was being asked to industry events and networking with senior executives of drink companies. But of course I'd come over here and everyone had told me to get a real job and use my accountancy degree -- so that was what I'd done. Mat seemed to lap this information up and it felt like I was finally speaking to the first person in months who was interested in what I wanted to do. Suddenly the lights started to come on, telling us that it was time to go home or move on. All of Mat's friends appeared, suggesting that we all go on to some club. I nodded my agreement if for no other reason than I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Mat. Everyone was piling out of the pub, and I decided that it was time to take action, so he'd know how I felt about him. It was a clammy summer evening, so I mimed to Mat that it was too hot, and I peeled off my tank top. I got a few whistles but only a lopsided grin from Mat as we continued on down the street. Then I noticed a darkened alleyway and so I grabbed his hand and led him down there, finally getting our first kiss. I can't remember whether it was good or not but the whole experience felt friggin' hot. Then I just slid to my knees -- this was definitely the beer talking as I had never done anything like this ever before, certainly not in public -- fumbled with the buttons on his jeans until I could get his cock out and wrapped my lips around it like my life depended on it. "Oh yeah, you're fucking loving this aren't you?" Mat groaned with obviously no intention of stopping me. "Mmm-pf," I grunted, struggling to speak with my mouth full. "I know you needed this, the moment I saw you," he said, stroking my head. "Yeah lick that cock, make it slick. It's gunna slide in you, gunna tear you apart rugby boy." All of this was what I wanted to hear. Not like I hadn't heard it from Jonathan, but I needed to hear it from this hipster, this regular dude, not from some guy who wanted me to be his mistress or whatever. "Get up," Mat groaned. I did but only reluctantly as it meant releasing my mouth from his cock. "Get your hands on that dumpster," he said. I dropped my shorts -- I wasn't wearing any underwear of course and my lily-white arse shone in the moonlight. "Yeah I knew you weren't wearing any jocks," Mat laughed, sounding a little more aggressive than I expected. He edged that slick wet cock up to my crack. I felt his tall, sweaty body lean on me and the beard, with its beery breath reeling my senses, rested on my neck. "I'm gunna fuck your arse raw right out here mate," he snarled the last word. "Everyone's gunna see you get banged. Anyone who's passing is gunna see your big muscle arse get hammered and hear you beg for it. Is that what you want? Is that what you need?" "Yes," I bleated. "Please fuck me." "You're pathetic," he snarled. "What a faggot. Have some self-respect." "Please," I begged, thinking that he might not go through with it if he didn't like me. "I just need your cock." There was a sudden silence between us, and I felt Mat's sweaty body lean back over me. "Mate don't worry I'm gunna fuck you," he whispered, sounding as if he was trying not to giggle. "You don't have to worry about that. You are so fucking hot!" "Oh," I said. Hey, I was young ok! I was a bit clueless when it came to reading guys. Luckily the alcohol made me loose and my slobber on Mat's cock meant that he was able to force his way through. I look back now, and I can't imagine being so willing to have raw sex in a risky place, out in public with someone I'd just met. I guess it's good to get things done like that early in life, right? Luckily no one came and arrested us, no one came and watched, or at least not that I can remember. But the feeling of that cock sliding into me, the night cooling my baking body and my giving into this skinny, `too-cool-for-school' hipster turned me on. It felt like a quick fuck and driven by all our desires, it probably was. It didn't take more than a couple of wanks before I came and at roughly the same time, Mat slid out of me and came in a few fast spurts across my arse. Suddenly I felt dizzy and stumbled back against the grimy wall. "Steady pal," I could hear Mat say. *** I don't recall what happened next, only that the next thing I remember was lifting my head from a thin pillow in the morning. "Good morning sleepy head," Mat smiled at me. He was sitting on a chair near the bed, wearing only a pair of brightly coloured underwear and resting his laptop across his legs. "Morning," I groggily said, looking around the sparse flat. "Did I..." I started to ask. "Yeah we really did fuck in that alleyway," he said with a cheeky grin. "Oh I remember that," I said quickly. At first I wondered if he was trying to prove to me that we really did have sex just in case I tried to bash him up. But he didn't look like that sort of guy, and I definitely wasn't that sort of guy! He was totally unfazed by me anyway. "I didn't pass out or anything did I?" I suddenly asked. "Not until we got back here," Mat confirmed. "Oh," I nodded, lifting myself up with my arms and then as the sheet slipped down, it revealed that I was still wearing my shorts. "Oh geez, I feel bad." "Because of the hangover?" Mat asked. "Or that you got back to mine, collapsed into bed and didn't let me get a second go at that hot arse of yours?" "Both," I groaned as I climbed out of bed. Somehow my mother's determination to ensure I had good manners had gone as far as to make me think that if I went home with someone, the very least I could do was give up my arse for their cock. As I tried to stand I wobbled a bit and the blood draining from my head. Mat began to move to steady me. "Hey why are you in such a rush? We've got all day for you to make it up to me." I undid my shorts and they dropped to the floor. "You don't really do clothes, do you?" Mat laughed. I shook my head and he pointed me in the direction of the bathroom and a spare towel. The towel was tiny, threadbare, and barely dried me, let alone covered my junk. Like I gave a crap. The shower put a bit of life back in me and I was able to muster a smile and a `good morning' as I walked back bare-arsed past one of his female flatmates. I walked over to the bed which I then realised was connected to the kitchen and living room without any doors for privacy. But as I said, I didn't care and I flopped naked, stomach down on the bed. "Wanna put your shorts back on?" Mat asked. I shook my head and flexed my arse cheeks. He chuckled. "I guess not then." I wanted to be naked for him, to show my compliance for him especially in front of other people, show how that regardless of my butch masculinity, I was thirsty for his cock. "You can fuck me," I suggested, wiggling my arse at him. "My flatmates are up now," he pointed out, smiling at me as if that was an end to the matter. "I don't mind if you don't," I offered. "The only way I reckon we can do it is if you're part of my film school project," he said putting his laptop to one side. "Of course you'll have to be filmed." "Oh..." I didn't know about this. As my old man used to say about celebrities who got caught without clothes on, `If you don't want naked pictures of you to get around, don't pose naked.' "I'm not sure..." I wavered. "I bet you're worried about your job banker boy, aren't you?" Mat teased. "What would your boss say if he saw you do what I'm going to ask you to do, hey?" "Well I'm not a banker, I'm just a dumb number cruncher," I explained. "And I quit my job yesterday because my boss wanted me to be his kept boy." I think I finally shocked Mat because he started to pay attention to me. "So what are you going to do now?" "I honestly don't know," I admitted, rolling onto my back. "I guess I'll have to move out of my flat and go back to live in a room at one of my sister's friends places." "You don't seem too happy about that," he remarked. "I'm not. I was supposed to be escaping from all that crap. I'm not out to my family but I don't want to go back in the closet. Now I guess I'm just going to have to go back with my dick between my legs." "Why don't you just go and do what you really want to do?" "I don't know what that is!" I disputed. "Really?" he laughed at me. "Because all you talked about last night was how much you loved your time working in restaurants and all the things that you thought were wrong over here with them and how you were going to fix the entire industry. Sounds like if you ever want to grow you need to do that." A metaphorical lightbulb went off over my head as Mat kept talking. "Just look up some catering agencies and with the sort of experience you seemed to have you should have no problem getting a job." "Thanks," I spluttered. "You are so right, it's totally what I have to do. God, after all this time..." I wondered aloud. "How much," he asked, "Of your adult life has been you doing things that other people wanted you to do?" I sat there and scratched my balls for a while. "Gee," I thought aloud. "Lots, I guess." "What else?" "Well the job thing for starters. And obviously the girlfriend I used to have back home. And you know what I just realised? I hate rugby. I mean, playing it. And the guys on my teams and the fans and the parents and all that stuff." "What would you rather be doing?" "Working in a restaurant. Fucking men. Playing tennis," I said. And suddenly I was clear on what I wanted to do with my life. "I've always loved tennis. I used to play it when I was a kid in the summer but then I got better at rugby, and I had to give up everything to just train all the time." "So quit," Mat smiled at me as if all of this was just the easiest thing in the world to do. "There are gay tennis groups out there too. You might even get a bit of action." "Really?" I blurted out. I had never thought about something like that and yet I could see it happening now. "You give really good advice you know," I declared. "So are you going to help me out with my project then?" he teased me. `Damn my mother,' I swore privately, and I nodded my head in agreement. "So what is it?" "Well I've got this role that you are probably perfect for," Now for any aspiring actors out there, if you ever hear that line, you should probably know that you're going to end the evening on your back. Anyway he continued, "It's about a young guy who comes out to his girlfriend and then goes out and picks up a guy in a bar and gets fucked for the first time." "Sounds simple," I cautiously agreed. "It is. Now one of my flatmates is going to take the role of the girlfriend..." "What about the guy I meet?" I asked. "Don't we need to film the scene in a bar?" Mat smiled. "We filmed that last night." "You did?" I asked, sounding a little confused. "Sure. Didn't you notice my mates with their phones out last night?" I shook my head dumbly. Then the thought occurred to me. "You didn't film everything last night, did you?" Mat smiled a little naughtily. "Well I didn't!" "Fuck," I whispered. "Can I see it?" Mat turned his laptop around so I could see the screen. The shots were blurry and fuzzy, and it was tough to tell it was Mat, but it was definitely me. It was definitely my big shoulders, my naked torso, and my face, moaning as Mat's cock slid into me, giving me my first raw experience. "Geez," I whispered again. There was no denying it, the whole scene was hot. And the way that Mat had cut it... or maybe it was just hot. I threw a boner almost straight away and he noticed. "You pervert," Mat laughed. "So you're going to do it?" I pointed down at my cock. "I guess so!" "Put your clothes back on then mate," Mat said, and he threw my shorts and tank-top back at me. The next hour or so I spent re-playing the scene that I should have had but never did, with my old girlfriend Amanda from back home. I told Mat's female flatmate -- the one that I had flashed earlier that morning -- that I was gay, that everything before had been a lie. She cried on cue time and again, she slapped me each time and I felt the sting of my betrayal, the proof that I had been a weak man and that I had been willing to almost ruin someone else's life just to protect my own secret, I felt it time and time again. Having emotionally exhausted myself, Mat insisted on filming a few scenes of me outside the flat, looking every bit the confused straight boy, scuffing the dirt with my feet and I wondered what on earth I was going to do. Then suddenly Mat declared that it was time for the final scene, and he turned the camera over to his flatmate. I never learnt her name but the grin on her face suggested she was going to enjoy filming us. Because the film was apparently all about `me', they convinced me that I needed to be filmed stripping off -- several times. Then rolling around on the bed and then on my knees. Mat was still fully dressed but he slowly pulled his cock out of his pants. My eyes were mesmerised by it, and he slowly walked towards me. He said nothing and his flatmate sat on the bed, the camera focused on his cock and my face as I slowly drew it all in. I lost myself in the moment, completely forgetting that I was being filmed. He then pushed me back over the bed and I lay there, lifting my legs to give him access. Glancing over at his camerawoman, Mat got the ok and slowly started to penetrate me. I gritted my teeth and snarled, and he suddenly stopped and withdrew. "What, what?" I asked. "It's ok, I'm just a bit tight that's all." "No, no," Mat shook his head. "This won't do. It looks like you're chewing a toffee apple that's sour. This isn't supposed to be rough. Can you drop the sex face and look more like you're being washed with love?" "Drop the sex face and being washed with love," I parroted. "Right, no worries." This was going to be an athletic feat of a different kind! As Rob started to slide in again I let the pain go to my cranium and gave the face of someone being ... well, who knows. But it seemed to work to their satisfaction. In order to get the right look, two thin sheets were draped over me at various times and after a conversation of which I was excluded from, they decided that we should change positions. Apparently both erect and flaccid, I didn't look right on my back, and it didn't follow the storyline. So I got on my hands and knees and Mat slid in again. Now I come to think of it, he was probably on Viagra because the whole time he was so rock solid... or maybe I was just that hot. Let me tell you kids, on your hands and knees with a dick fully lodged in you is all good fun but a couple of hours of it... followed by minutes of drawn-out assault... mate there ain't enough lube in the world to endure that. I spent most of the time separating my mind into two areas, one drawing from my memory the right look for Mat's filming and the second working out how my new life was going to happen. Finally it seemed Mat, and his camerawoman declared that they had filmed enough. And thank god because not only had my headache returned with a vengeance but my body was aching. I collapsed on the bed in relief. "That's it," Mat smiled. "We're done." "Ohhh..." was about all I could say. "I'll start downloading it ready for the first edit," his flatmate said, using it as a polite excuse to leave us alone. I rolled onto my stomach and was pleasantly surprised when Mat joined me on the bed. "Thank you," he said shortly. "Oh God," I moaned. "Mate for anyone else..." He laughed and after a moment's pause he said, "If you have somewhere else to go, don't let me hold you back." "Are you trying to get rid of me?" I laughed. "I thought you might not understand the rules of a one-night stand that's all," he chuckled. "Well I'm not experienced with the whole thing, I have to admit," I agreed. "And I'm not that experienced with gay men either." "Yes I noticed," he agreed. "Would you like a little help?" "Sure," I agreed. You're foolish if you throw away free advice. "Well," Mat rolled onto his side. "You need to fuck me now. You're a big lad with a nice dick. You're going to get many more guys who want to get fucked by you. And trust me, being a top will always get you more sex." "But, but..." I stumbled. "I like getting fucked," I tried to explain. "Don't we all," Mat chuckled. "But we can't all be bottoms. Some of us have to step up and play the big man. You of all people should be used to that idea. Maybe it's time you transferred that misplaced sense of responsibility about what your family want you to do over to us boys, your non-biological family and give back to the gay community." I looked at him and wondered if he was being serious or not. I decided that the best thing to do was to respond in kind. "Well the only reason why I bent over and let you fuck me on camera was that my mother was always telling me I should try new things. I don't think she meant that, but I can't be 100% sure." Mat rolled onto his back and laughed. "You are hysterical mate. No one says the sort of stuff you do." "So if I fuck you..." I started to say. "Yeah?" "Would you ummm..." "How about this," Mat knew what I needed. "You fuck me and then when you're done, if you haven't cum, I'll finger fuck you till you do. But trust me... you ain't gunna need it." Suddenly I felt a massive desire to take on this new role. Why I hadn't thought of it before was flummoxing. I had only had intercourse with four guys so far, what had I been missing out on? Mat got me a condom, lubed me up and showed me how to prepare his arse. I'd obviously had sex with a woman plenty of times, but my old girlfriends would never have dreamed of letting me fuck them up there. But I'd learnt from myself how tight it was, so I found myself ultra-cautious as I entered Mat. "Wiggle," he gasped. "Huh?" "From side to side," Mat explained. "It'll... ohhhh yeah dude," he growled, his voice deepening as a little wiggle of my hips allowed my cock to slide deeper in him. It was another ground-breaking moment for me, the moment when my dick slid into the warm, tight hole of another guy. "Ohhh, fuck yeah," I couldn't stop myself from saying. OK, I'd watched a few American pornos. "Fuck that arse," I roared. Mat was too far gone to mock this and as I gradually slid back out, I could feel his body start to tremble. I pushed back inside him, driven by the desire to get back into that warmth. My dick felt like it was being massaged and the more I drove back and forth, the more attention it got. Soon enough I was in heaven, and I was becoming aware of the joy of fucking another guy, the joy of dominating them. How had I not sought this out before? I now know that I'd bottomed early on because like most guys I wanted to ensure that I wasn't to blame. I can imagine some straight guys might only top in a gay encounter and come up with the excuse of `any hole is a goal' but for most of us, bottoming means that we were the innocent party. `Someone else took me, it wasn't my fault'. But it was time to rejoice, time to confirm my sexuality. And it was so hot! Mat stopped things and insisted we change position, rolling onto his back and me letting his long, lanky legs rest onto my shoulders. As I started to drive in, I realised how pleasurable that position was. My hips forced me forward, driving into Mat. His fist was wrapped around his cock, pounding on it as I fucked him. He roared out in pleasure as he came, his arse tightening around my cock and draining my load at the same time. I gasped for air, stunned at how much energy I had used up and I collapsed onto Mat before rolling to one side. "Geez Mary and Joseph," I gasped. "You like that?" Mat laughed. "You need a couple of fingers up your arse to get you off?" "No fear," I replied. "I'm done. For the moment anyway. What have I been missing?" Mat just laughed. "Glad I could help," he finally said. We lay together for a little while longer before I realised that no matter how bad I felt, it was time for me to move on. I got up, got dressed and promised to call him. Of course I didn't and he didn't either. I never saw the film, who knows what it looked like in the end. But what I got from Mat was well worth it.