Date: Tue, 10 Nov 2009 13:30:43 -0800 (PST)
From: bill bobber <givingitupgladly@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: Fireworks I      Beginnings, Relationships, Interacial

The following is (unfortunately) a work of fiction. It involves mature
themes of man/man sex. If you are under 18 or prohibited from viewing such
material you should either cease reading this immediately, or move.


My first experience. The events that took place ushering me into the scary,
wild, passionate, uninhibited world of sex with men. The relationship that
shook me out of my preconceptions and revealed my true nature - a man who
loves to be loved (and loved, and loved again) by other men.

I was just 22 and new to the city. I had moved the previous spring from a
fairly typical small town, and I had spent the past few months finding work
and setting up an apartment. I knew a few other people who had also come
from my hometown, but I certainly wasn't overwhelmed by a huge number of
friends and acquaintances. The main reason for this was that I'm pretty shy
by nature. I tend to keep to myself for the most part and many nights I'm
at home alone. Strangely enough though, I worked in a trade that shy people
like me don't often end up in; I was a bartender in a popular local
pub. For me it was the opportunity to come out of my shell a little. At
work I was outgoing and confident, and by all accounts I was very good at
my job. But outside of work I reverted to my quiet self.

So, maybe you're wondering about my sexual activities? Well, I dated
girls. Shock! I know, what am I doing then writing this kind of story found
on this kind of website? Patience please. I was attracted to girls and I
still find them beautiful to look at, and I enjoyed making love to them
very much. But don't forget, I was 22 and practically anything made me
horny. Girls were just the most socially acceptable outlet for my needs. My
more consistent needs were less analyzed, but practiced more. What I mean
by that is most nights when I was home alone I was pleasing myself
sexually, but I sort of kept a wall up in my head as to what I was thinking
about and what this meant.

In other words, I masturbated (a lot) and it was almost always while
thinking about having sex with men. I still looked at pictures of hot sexy
women while I was doing it, but I would imagine myself as the women. If the
sexy young girl was bending down to engulf her lover's thick cock in her
mouth, I wished it were my mouth taking it in. If she was on all fours
being fucked roughly from behind I could barely hold back from cumming as I
imagined myself in her position and what it would feel like to have such a
big cock buried deep in my ass pounding and pounding me until I was filled
with hot cum. (Whew! I'm getting quite excited writing this so I'm just
going to stop for a moment. I will resume in a few minutes after I ask my
lover to give me a quick fuck)

Okay, I'm back. Mmmmmmmm! Now, as I was saying before being sidetracked by
lust, I was a young guy, new to the city, oblivious to my sexual
tendencies, or at least content to do nothing about it. This all changed in
one night.

The people I worked with at the bar were pretty much all very nice and we
got along well. One of the girls dated a stockbroker or something and he
lived in an amazing apartment that looked out over the city. One weekend
they had a party and Rachel (that's her name) invited some of the staff,
including me. Normally, I probably wouldn't have gone. I'd have invented a
reason and stayed home. But Rachel was insistent and she was the kind of
girl that it was better to go along with that try to fight. So I went with
the intention to show up, make an appearance, and leave early.

At his point it may be appropriate to give you a brief description of
myself. I'm HOT!! Uh, well, I know that's what most authors would put here,
but the reality is I think I'm just average looking. I know I'm good
looking enough to have girls hit on me sometimes (guys too, but I was
always too shy to respond) but I'm not going to say I was beautiful. I had
shoulder length light brown hair, blue eyes, and I stand about 5' 10''. One
thing I must say - I was in really good shape. And apparently I have a
really good ass - which makes me very happy because I like to use it, or
should I say, have it used, a lot. I had recently gotten contact lenses so
I didn't look quite as much as the geek-nerd I had looked like in my
hometown, and I was wearing designer jeans that I knew showed off my ass to
the best of it's ability. I just thought it would be the girls that would
be checking it out.

The party turned out to be way more fun than I expected. The apartment was
huge and Rachel's boyfriend was actually a nice and funny guy, much to
everyone on staff's amazement. It was also filled with really cool people
that I had not had the opportunity to cross paths with so far in the
city. As a result, I ended up staying and actually meeting some
people. Like most shy people I needed a little help, so four or five beers
were providing me with the courage to be outgoing. And I was. I had
switched over to bartender mode so I was telling jokes and funny stories
fearlessly. It was at about his point that I saw Miles.

Miles is black. Sure I had seen black people before, but the small town I
grew up in had about five African-Americans (sorry, no offence intended) so
it was still a thrill for me to see and talk to "them". (again, sorry) What
this shouldn't do is turn into a race-driven story. That Miles is black is
important, but I believe everything that did happen, would still have
happened regardless of whether he had been Caucasian, Asian, or Native
American. But it was still pretty cool. I had never lusted for black men
and black cocks exclusively; I had just lusted for cocks. That Miles was
black was secondary to the fact that he was fucking gorgeous and apparently
quite interested in me. This was becoming more and more clear as the
evening wore on. At first he was just in the circle of people where we were
telling stories. He seemed to know Rachel's boyfriend and everybody loved
his style and quick wit. He was one of those people that everyone just
gravitates towards and you just wish they would talk to you for a bit, but
in my case anyway, I was seemingly never cool enough to rate that kind of
attention. Miles however, was talking to me and I was suddenly unbelievably
nervous and at a loss for words. In the past when something like this
happened it would just be a confirmation of my tremendous un-coolness and
lead to an immediate shunning. Like, "Oh, you're a babbling idiot. I'm
sorry. For a second there I thought you were someone cool. I'll be leaving
now."

But this wasn't happening tonight. Miles hung with the group until we got
close enough to speak with each other. Now, I know it's crazy, but from the
moment he had appeared I had the overwhelming feeling that this is what he
had wanted to do. I just felt this "connection" between us that said, "I
really want to talk to you." And as this feeling grew, so did my
excitement. This fantasy that the best looking guy in the place would want
to talk to me was working overtime in my brain. If Beyonce, wearing only a
smile, had suddenly shown up and asked me to take her home I wouldn't have
moved from that spot - the one that Miles was slowly working his way
towards. The heterosexual portion of my brain had been kidnapped and was
being locked in a trunk and dumped in the lake.

"Hi, I'm Miles." Great voice - Oh! A handshake - very firm grip - nice big
hands - don't start thinking about what that means now! And electricity! In
the touch of his skin against mine, like we both knew that since laying
eyes on each other this moment had been or mutual goal.

"Uh, hi. I'm Chris. It's really nice to mean you." Oh god - was I gushing?

"You're a funny guy." He was laughing. I was busy falling in love.

"Well I have my moments, but, um... so, what do you do?" Miles told me
about himself; he was a student at the local university taking Sports
Medicine. This had come about because he had once played football. He made
it sound pretty minor but it became apparent that he had once been quite
good, until an injury had ended his hopes of making it a career. It was
clear to me though that he had lost none of the physique of an athelete. He
was at least three inches taller than me and his long legs and taut belly
indicated someone who was still looking after their conditioning.

We talked. At any moment I was sure he would realize what a boring person I
really was and politely excuse himself. I was already planning my sad
consolation prize - a frantic wack-off session at home imagining my big
black stud with me in my bed. But he stayed. And we kept talking, and
laughing, and I had a few more drinks.

The next part of the evening came when it was time for the fireworks. Not
figurative ones - real ones. The party was on a night when there were
fireworks each weekend over the bay. The apartment gave a fantastic view
and when it was time for them to start everyone in the place stopped,
turned down the lights, and found a place to watch.

Miles grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him.  "Come with me. I scouted
out the perfect place to watch." Yeah, like I was going anywhere other than
with him. But I still thrilled at his touch. Miles led me to a spot near
the balcony where I could get right up to the railing. There were still
lots of people there, but someone as relatively short as me could see just
fine. The problem was I am nervous around heights.

"That's okay," said Miles when I bashfully explained my phobia. "I'll be
right behind you. I won't let you fall."

So surrounded by people, we turned and watched the beginning of the show,
and I became very aware of Miles' body very close behind me. I almost
imagined I could feel the heat from his body radiating out to me. I swayed
back accidentally, a little tippsy from the drinks I had had and felt his
big chest stop my fall.

"You'd better stay there so you don't fall," he whispered into my ear. I
did. Thrilling at the closeness, the contact that felt so intimate. Then I
felt his hand at my waist. I suppose this was the point that I would have
stopped things if I had not been... well, interested. But I didn't stop
them. I just stood there and felt my heart pound as the most beautiful,
sexy man I had ever meet was holding my waist in his hands. Ironically, it
was the number of people that made it so secret. No one could see his big
hands hold me. Nor could they see when one of his hands began moving slowly
around to my ass.

I was becoming aware of the fact that I had been very erect for the past
several minutes. Now, I was almost really to burst. Miles moved his hand
until it was gently cupping one of my butt cheeks, then he slowly, and
sensuously began to squeeze.

This slow-motion grope of my ass continued as more fireworks went off. This
was easily the most erotic event of my short life so far. My rigid boner
pulsed with contained excitement and my heart pounded so hard I thought I
could hear it. Then, Miles took my wrist with his other hand, and moved it
back and onto the front of his jeans.

I knew my cock was hard and as big as it was going to get, but I was not
prepared for the signals that the palm of my hand were sending to my
already spinning brain. Miles had a huge erection and I was rubbing it
while he was feeling up my ass. I just gave myself over to the marvellous
feeling I was getting from my ass and hand. There we stood, inches from
other people but oblivious to them, as I let another man fondle my ass like
a girl's and I encouraged him by rubbing my hand up and down the length of
his huge prick.

Then it was over. With one huge BANG the fireworks show ended and the
people around us began to break apart and move back into the room. Miles
and I immediately pulled away from each other and I attempted to regain my
composure.

Feeling more than a little drunk and spun from what we had just been doing
to each other I offered no resistance when Miles took me by the wrist again
and led me into the bathroom. Luckily, in such a big apartment there were
several bathrooms, so it was empty. As soon as the door closed we fell on
each other. I was ripping at Miles' pants while he was trying to pull his
shirt over his head. I succeeded in unbuttoning and unzipping him while he
continued to remove his t-shirt. Suddenly, I found myself on my knees
looking up at this gorgeous man in front of me, pants down around his
knees, smooth muscled abs and chest, and between bobbed a huge black
cock. I looked up at the need in his eyes and knew what to do - what I had
been born to do. In one smooth motion I took Miles' black rod in my hand
and directed it's fat knob towards my open mouth.

I noted, the moment before my tongue made contact that the head of Miles'
beautiful cock was glistening with pre-cum. It didn't make me hesitate for
a second. In fact, in my delirious sexual frenzy it excited my even
more. The warm feeling of his cock as it entered my mouth and the wonderful
flavour from the pre-cum only made the moment more special. I wanted to
completely please this man and I knew the way to do this was to completely
honour everything he had to give me. So I moaned in pleasure as my head
began moving back and forth trying to get as much of his thick cock in my
mouth as possible. I slurped up the dribble of pre-sperm and whispered how
delicious it was. I had never sucked a cock before but I had dreamed of
doing it for years and I knew what was going to happen. I also knew that I
wanted it to happen.

"Cum in my mouth Miles. I want you to shoot your big cock into my mouth!"

"Oh, baby! That's it! Keep sucking! You bad little cocksucker!" Apparently
he was okay with my plan. And I was thrilled to be called a 'cocksucker.' I
would have fought you if you'd have called me that anywhere else or at any
other time, but for Miles I wanted to be his cocksucker and I loved the way
it felt to hear him call me one.

The actual sucking didn't go on for very long. I would like to think this
was because of my advanced cocksucking technique, but it was probably just
because we had worked ourselves into such a frenzy before the sucking. In
any event, there was only a few glorious minutes of blissful sucking before
Miles cried out...

"Oh! Oh! Here it comes! Take it! Take it!" And I met another man's sperm
for the first time. Actually, I met rather a lot. What saved me from
drowning was my advanced state of excitements that compelled me to
immediately and without delay, begin to swallow my lover's copious
love-seed that flooded my mouth. I just love the sound of that moment. One
man is awash in orgasm and urging his body to fire as much cum as possible
into the mouth that is lovingly fellating him. He is grunting with
pleasure. The other man (me) is slurping and moaning as the sweet sap is
fired into my mouth, or blasted across my face, coating me in a layer of
jism. It is such an intimate moment. I know that it changed me forever. The
knowledge that I liked (no - Loved) sucking on a man's cock was a
breakthrough. This wasn't just me, a jar of Vaseline, and a stack of porn
mags. I had just been successful in bringing a fully-grown man to a
crashing climax with my mouth. It was about at this time when I noticed
that, unaided, I had achieved an orgasm of my own. To cum, while sucking
not being sucked, indicated a fairly high level of excitement. I could deny
it no more. I was a cocksucker and I wanted to do it again.


Please tell me what you think. I write for my own pleasure, but more
importantly, for yours. So please let me know if my little story brings you
any. I would like to continue the story as soon as time permits. I am
imagining the story to very soon include Miles gently but firmly taking my
young and willing cherry. I would also like to include elements of
cross-dressing as I dress up for my lover's pleasure.

Thank you for reading.