He was the older man I, a nineteen-year-old male student, had met on an adult dating site to take my virginity, and we were about to go out to dinner. I had just given the first blowjob of my life, but then he had forbidden me from using anything other than my fingers and tongue to clean myself up while he went to the bathroom. Desperate to hide the evidence before going out in public, I even licked the cooling goo from my clothes, but I could tell some of the larger splodges were not going to be eliminated entirely without scrubbing.

I stood to examine myself in the mirror, rubbing the sticky residue that would not otherwise budge into my skin until I was satisfied that casual glances wouldn’t reveal what kind of facial treatment I’d just received. Toothpaste would surely be most people’s first guess if they did notice. It was little comfort, though, as even though my hoody would cover the cum stains on my T-shirt, my nostrils were still full of its scent, and the tingling aftertaste covered my taste buds so that I was convinced anyone I spoke to would be sure to smell it.

“Do you need to go?” Dave asked, emerging from the bathroom.

“Yes, actually,” I replied. “Er, yes, sir, I mean.”

“Good boy. Remember to only wash your hands,” he called to me as I left the room. Though tempted to disobey him, I resisted and joined him at the door a couple of minutes later.

“Okay, let’s go. I’m starving,” Dave declared, striding into the corridor.

We exited the hotel and crossed the car park through a light drizzle to the rest of the motorway service station. Naturally, the eating options here were not stellar, particularly for me, as I was vegan at the time.

“Really?” Dave asked loudly in mock surprise on learning this last fact. “I thought you loved having your lips wrapped around a nice bit of thick meat.”

Thankfully, the place was almost empty, and the guy at the till — so bored he seemed to be on autopilot — did not catch this double-entendre. Dave seemed faintly disappoint that no one had noticed my new perfume, but I was relieved and better able to eat my pasta with plain tomato sauce. It was not the sort of place you wanted to hang around longer than you had to. Twenty minutes later, we re-entered the hotel, with some relief on my part.

As we passed the reception desk, a couple concluded their check-in. I was faintly aware of them walking behind us, but only really paid attention when we stopped at our door and they did the same at the room next to ours. Stealing a glance at our new neighbours while Dave fished out the key card, I caught the eye of a brunette a few years older than I, maybe mid-twenties. Dave grabbed my hand, and I turned bright red as he pulled me into the room. She winked at me just before the door closed.

A sudden need for the bathroom reminded me that the effects of the earlier beer had long ago passed through my system. I told Dave I needed to go and took a few minutes longer than I needed, just to collect myself. When we came into the room, I had seen in his eyes that he had more than just oral sex in mind for the rest of the night. Deep down, I knew that I did too, but the break between my first taste of cock combined with the lack of alcohol had awakened the butterflies in my stomach once more. There was no doubt in my mind I was going to go through with it now, though, so I splashed water on my face, dried it with a towel, took a deep breath and left the bathroom. All the lights were on, but the curtains were now mercifully closed.

“Ready?” Dave inquired, momentarily lapsing into a friendlier, less commanding tone. I nodded. “Get undressed. Slowly.”

Swallowing without answering, I nodded and stood in front of the bed. The murmuring of the couple next door was not helping my nerves, as I wondered how much they would be able to hear of what was to come. Clumsily, I removed my hooded top, feeling his eyes on me. His smirking lips seeming to fill my vision as I pulled off my stained T-shirt to reveal my skinny chest, with what I had always felt was a ridiculous little patch of dark hair in the middle. Still not speaking, he looked slowly down at my crotch, then back to my eyes, raising his eyebrows which prompted me to fumble with the button of my fly and drop my jeans.

As I kicked my shoes and trousers off my feet, he finally made a move, stepping right up close to me. That faint smirk still playing on his lips, he ran his hands over my chest and down to my underpants, letting the tips of his fingers glide over the material, brushing the bulge at my crotch but not lingering. Despite my nerves, I felt my hips give a slight twitch followed by a similar movement between my legs.

“Now, undress me,” he instructed.

With trembling fingers, I reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt, gradually revealing the short, curly hairs that covered his chest and stomach. I opened it and pulled it off his broad shoulders. It turned out that although it covered his front, his body hair was not that dense, and the way the blood continued to pump into my dick while he pulled off his shirtsleeves told me it was not a turn-off.

My fingers brushed the tops of his arms and then returned to his pecs. The muscles there were not as defined as they must have been a decade earlier but still powerful and attractive. I dragged my hands over his belly, which bulged a little over his belt, and looked up at his face when I reached the buckle, finding I was much more efficient at undoing the second time.

As his trousers hit the floor, he pulled me into a rough kiss. It was the first time I had kissed another man’s mouth, and the facial hair, in particular, surprised me — I had never even imagined kissing someone with a beard before. I opened my mouth willingly, however, and let his invading tongue in. The masculine perfume of his aftershave struck me again. The hand that was not bringing my mouth to his head grabbed my arse and pulled our groins together, only our underpants separating them. He released me with a push as rough as his kiss so that I fell backwards, landing sprawled on the bed.

“Take the rest off,” he told me, nodding at my underwear.

I did so, sliding out of my boxers and socks in one fluid movement and then lay back on my elbows to watch him peel his off. My cock bounced slightly in its semi-erect state, pointing right at him as I awaited his next instruction. It was not a long wait.

“Start touching yourself like in those videos you sent me.”

Wordlessly yet eagerly, I reached down with my left hand and started to play with myself. First, I lightly stroked up and down with my fingertips, from my balls to my foreskin. I waited until my cock was fully erect, the head pointing up at my face and holding itself above my stomach, before spitting in my palm and wrapping my hand around the bulge, as I did almost every night by myself. Though naturally shy, I was delighted to finally show off to someone in the flesh — my cock is no monster, but when the rest of me is so skinny and short, it looks pretty big. Dave stood at my feet, stroking his own thick, soft cock and muttering praise. The best compliment came when he could obviously resist it no longer and told me to stop.

“I want a taste of that delicious dick,” he told me, grabbing something from his bag and lying down on the bed next to me. “I’m sure you want some more of mine since you enjoyed it so much earlier. You get on top.”

I knelt with my legs on either side of his head, which was at the pillow end of the bed, and bent over towards his hairy crotch. My first thought was how odd his hairy belly felt against my chest, but that was quickly thrust aside by the totally unfamiliar sensation of the tip of my cock being tickled by a moustache and then plunged into a warm mouth. I was in danger of cumming immediately, but it seemed Dave was experienced as he broke off sucking just in time and began licking my balls.

The relief from near orgasm reminded me I should be reciprocating, so I lowered my head and took his balls in my mouth once again. Concentrating on the increasingly familiar scent and taste of his crotch, together with the feel of his testicles shifting under my tongue through the loose, hairy skin of his scrotum, helped distract me just enough to allow my impending orgasm to subside. It seemed like less than an hour since he had cum, so I was not sure how long he would take to get hard again.

I need not have worried — his cock gave its first twitch as soon as I touched my tongue to the tip, and I could feel the blood pumping into it the moment I pushed it into my open mouth. Glancing up, I noticed that the glossy screen of the TV at the foot of the bed made an excellent mirror for me to watch myself in, adding a visual component to the subtle sensations of a penis gradually becoming erect in my mouth. It looked hot!

One of Dave’s fingers sliding from my bum cheek to my crack interrupted my appreciation. This was yet another milestone in my sexual experiences: another person touching my arsehole. First, he ran his finger lightly up and down. Tingles of anticipation ran through me — my partner might not resemble any of the legions of guys I had imagined doing this with, but it was something I knew I wanted.

The pressure of his digit gradually increased, and without thinking, I pushed back to encourage him. In it went with only my sweat for lubrication, but it felt good. He wisely released my dick from his mouth, his facial hair scratching up and down my shaft on either side of his tongue accompanying the slow pumping of his finger in my hole. My own jaw went slack around his now fully erect cock as I focused on the friction of him entering me, first one knuckle deep, then two.

There was a sharp cracking sound behind me, and I resumed sucking, thinking that might be why he had suddenly abandoned my crotch and withdrawn his hand. A few seconds later, though, I felt something cool and wet start to ooze between my buttocks. I realised immediately that the sound had been the lid of a tube of lubricant popping open, and this was what he was now spreading around my puckered entrance.

I moaned into his cock when he pushed his finger back inside me, with no resistance now, burying it up to the third knuckle. Fingers spread out either side like open scissors to my back above and perineum below. My cock twitched so hard it slapped my stomach and then hung down to be tickled by his beard.

Once more, I tried to concentrate on giving Dave a blowjob, exploring how different it felt on my tongue just from approaching it upside down. Being young and naïve, I tried to compare it to mine, judging it to be maybe a tad shorter but thicker. Just as I discovered that the curve in his now rigid pole should make deep throating him easier from this angle, Dave decided to squeeze a second finger in my arse, making me jerk forward and gag. Since his fingers were considerably thicker than my own — I had played alone before, after all — this already started to stretch me in a pleasant fashion. 

I relaxed my throat and leant forward, letting the smooth top of his head slide over the back of my tongue as his fingers pushed deeper. He had completely abandoned my cock, so I felt that I could have continued sucking his whilst being finger fucked indefinitely without cumming. However, my jaw muscles were beginning to ache by the time he finally withdrew and pushed me off him.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered, kneeling on the bed behind me.

I did so. My arousal seemed to have heightened my senses. The TV next door murmured through the wall, so that dissipated my self-consciousness regarding the cute brunette and what she might hear. In addition, I could discern the quiet yet distinctly wet sound of Dave spreading lubricant over his cock. I waited, watching my reflection in the TV screen with the image of the large man kneeling behind me cut off at the shoulders.

The tube of lubricant landed with a soft thump next to my hand. A large, rough hand gripped me, and I wiggled my bottom back in response. I wanted him inside me so bad. Slimy flesh pressed between my buttocks but slid over my star rather than into it. I pushed back in frustration, but he refused the invitation, lying his free hand on top, so the length of his dick glided back and forth between it and my cheeks. It actually felt really good, but I was so horny my cock was starting to ache, and I wanted him inside me.

“Robin,” Dave called in a singsong voice, “Robin, if you want something, you need to ask for it.”

“Please, sir, put it in me,” I tried weakly.

“You’ll need to do better than that, boy,” he laughed. “Put what in where?”

“Put your cock in my arse, sir,” was my second attempt, a little more clearly. I pushed back towards him, but he let his cock slide away again.

“I’m not sure; you don’t really sound like you want it. Maybe I should drop you back home...”

“Sir,” I pleaded as loud as I dared, hoping our neighbours were concentrating on their show, “Sir, please! Fuck my ar— Uuurgh!”

My enthusiastic begging had been rewarded with his thick shaft sliding balls deep in one smooth movement. It hurt! In spite of all the lube, the fingering, and my frequent playing on my own with a dildo, that first entry still hurt. Usually, when I played alone, I would be in an on-top position and sink down slowly onto whatever cock substitute I was using at the time. I would ease it in gradually rather than thrusting it all in at once.

However, once the shock wore off, I could better absorb the sensation. It was pain, yes, but not really that bad. It was not a stinging or burning pain — he really had used plenty of lubricant. And it was not that unpleasant, internal bruising pain I had had a hint of once or twice when going too deep at the wrong angle. It was just the aching pain of muscles stretched a bit too fast, and it was already fading. In fact, after only a few moments, the pain submerged into the fantastic sensation of pressure on my prostate. It became part of it, and I squeezed my sphincter experimentally around his dick — it still ached, but in kind of a good way.

Dave was staying still inside to allow me to get accustomed to him. Having accepted the pain, I started to take in the other details — his strong hands, one holding my hips and the other resting on my back to keep me down; his hairy thighs pressing into the backs of mine; the soft, warm pressure just at the top of my buttocks, which I realised was his stomach; the tickle of his ball sack hanging against the skin above my own; and his cock, the base of the shaft hugged by my tight entrance and the rest inside me, at the perfect depth. It felt wonderful!

Then came the realisation. Oh, fuck! No condom!

“Does that feel good?” he queried from behind me.

“Yes, sir!” I answered weakly.

I should have told him to pull out and use protection right away, but I was young, horny, and I guess, in retrospect, stupid. I did not want to interrupt the flow now that I finally had a real cock in my arse. Anyway, the idea of getting fucked bareback was becoming just another turn on for me. The implications could wait until the morning, so I pushed it to the back of my mind — not hard given what else was happening.

He was waiting, so again, I implored him, “Fuck me, sir!”

He pulled back slowly, so I could feel the head of his cock travelling out of my tunnel until only the first ring of muscles was gripping it. Then he rammed it back inside, his legs meeting mine with an audible smack and making me cry out again. Repeating this slow withdrawal and fast entrance a couple more times to get a feel for me, he then started thrusting in and out with a steadier rhythm. I stopped calling out but could not stop the occasional moan or gasped “Yeah!” — it felt so much better than even my longest solo experiences.

Being fucked on your hands and knees turned out to be quite tiring on the arms, so I soon had to sink down onto my elbows. When my screwed-up face allowed, this actually gave me a better view of the TV, as from that angle, I could see Dave’s bearded face behind me with my raised butt in front of him. My cock was still hard and flapped about with the force of his thrusts, hitting my stomach with the hardest. I could not resist touching it for long, but when I tried to reach back, my wrist was trapped in a steely grip.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself, boy!” Dave growled.

He pulled my hand behind my back, not so high it was painful, but I could not move it. With only one arm to lean on, I was forced to rest my face on the bed. I used my free arm to hold on to the sheet and stop myself from sliding forwards from his thrusts.

When Dave pulled out a few thrusts later, I was worried he was stopping to deny me satisfaction again, but it was only to shift his stance. He tapped the sides of my legs with his hand to get me to move them closer together, then put his on the outside, one kneeling and the other with his foot on the bed. Without uttering a word, I felt his cock between my cheeks again.

He pushed inside me once more with even greater force, which his new position allowed, bringing forth louder moans from me. My cock had softened a little by then, as it often does from anal stimulation, but it was flicking precum all over the sheets and my stomach with each shuddering impact of his body into mine. In vain, I tried to reach it with my free hand but only succeeded in having that hand pinned behind me, too, and earned a stinging slap on my buttocks.

“No, Robin!” he reprimanded me. “You’ll cum when I let you.”

“Sorry, sir,” I mumbled into the sheets.

“Maybe we need to change positions,” he suggested, possibly in reaction to how muffled I sounded, and pulled out again. “Lie down here.”

He moved aside to make room for me. I knelt up and shuffled on my knees to the head of the bed, stacking the pillows in a pile before lying back on them.

“Like this, sir?” I asked, lifting my legs up and holding them to my chest by the knees. My hole contracted in an involuntary wink when I spread my arse cheeks for him.

“Yeah, like that,” he replied, smiling.

He positioned himself in front of me on his knees, stroking his cock with one hand, the other squeezing some more lube onto his member. I reached for him with my right hand, and he let me take his hard dick in my small, delicate, almost girlish fingers. There could be no doubt anymore that he was not using a condom as I ran my hand up and down his slippery, naked shaft. I smiled and then bit my lower lip, still a little conflicted about that detail, but decided by that stage it was too late to demand he rectify it.

I pulled him down towards me, just managing to rub the tip of his cock against my sphincter and looked into his eyes. Suddenly filled with a strong desire for his bearded mouth on mine, I reached for his waist with my other hand.

“Please fuck me, sir,” I begged as sweetly as I could. “Please make me cum.”

“I can hardly say no to that, can I?” he responded, smiling, and leaned forwards to kiss me.

With his elbows on either side of my shoulders to support himself while his tongue was entwining itself with mine, he left it to me to keep his cock against my entrance. I felt the whole length of the shaft slide slowly between my fingers and into my hole until his soft stomach was pressing against my hand. Bringing my hand out from between us and meshing my fingers in his hair, I threw myself into the kiss. My other hand gripped his buttock — larger and softer than mine but just as hairy — and, with my legs wrapped around his back, I tried to lift myself up to meet his thrusts. I completely abandoned myself to embracing his masculinity, inhaling the scent of his aftershave and his sweat, pressing his hairy body to mine, and enjoying the rasp of his facial hair on my skin, rather than trying to ignore it.

At first, his thrusts in this missionary position were slow, and he only pulled out of me a little before coming back in. However, he made the strokes longer and harder once he pushed himself up above me with his arms straight. I continued to look into his eyes, my mouth open to let the regular grunts and moans he was forcing from me escape freely. Reaching up with both hands to his broad shoulders, I brought them down slowly over his pecs and through the hair above and between them.

I caught a glimpse of his cock plunging into me when I glanced down between us, but then his stomach, gravity making it look larger in this position, obscured the view. Instead of averting my gaze, I moved my hands along the track of hair that ran down the middle to his belly button and then held either side as it lifted from me and then squished down to sandwich my leaking penis between itself and my own stomach. Somehow, even this was erotic at that moment. In fact, the sensation of that warm, hairy mass of flesh pressing on and then releasing my cock was very pleasant, and I started to harden again after going almost completely soft.

Dave knelt up and grabbed my hips, pulling me off most of the pillows, and thrust vigorously for a moment, making me cry out again and instinctively reach to hold my flopping cock. Again, he grabbed my wrist and then trapped the other with it pre-emptively, but only screwed up his face in concentration rather than issue any reprimand. I wondered if I would finally cum just from anal stimulation — whenever I played alone, I could never resist the temptation to touch myself long enough. That may have been his aim, but it was not to be, as he leant forward again, this time pinning my hands above my head and pressing his chest to mine.

“Yes, fuck me, sir!” I yelled, abandoning my earlier caution. I spread my legs as wide as I could.

“Harder?” He grunted in my ear.

“Harder, sir!” I echoed back.

He obliged, his dick making a delicious wet, squelching sound as it slammed into my hole, punctuated by the slap of his skin against mine.

Suddenly, I asked, “Are you going to cum inside me, sir?”

“Would you like me to?” he queried, holding himself inside and raising himself up to look me in the eye for a moment.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, not quite believing the words coming out of my mouth. “I want you to fill me with your seed.”

He laughed at this corny line. “Okay then!”

He resumed fucking me with renewed effort, and I encouraged him with moans and gasped “Yeahs”. The prospect of being filled with his cum, which I had never really considered before, turned out to be a massive turn on. His body heaved above me, but all I could think of was an image of his cock inside me, pumping out semen. My own cock became as hard as it ever did when there was pressure on my prostate.

Then a slight change in my position brought it into closer contact with his stomach again. Both of us were now slick with sweat, which, combined with all the precum that had dribbled out of me, ensured the two surfaces my dick was being ground between were well lubricated. The hairs on both our stomachs added an extra texture, and it finally proved too much for me.

“I’m going to cum, sir!” I gasped suddenly. “I can’t hold it!”

“Cum, then!” he growled.

He tightened his hold on my wrists to ensure it would be just him making me orgasm. Redoubling the force of his thrusts, his balls slapped my buttocks and his belly rolled over my cock. I tightened all my muscles to feel him push them apart with every entry, the whole bed shaking and knocking against the wall.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelled as the orgasm finally started.

It was intense — an explosion of ecstasy beginning in my arse that was being ruthlessly penetrated and then flooding through my whole body. It filled my head and clouded my vision. Cum erupted from my cock, squirting up my chest. As it kept coming, Dave’s belly spread it back down the shaft. Both our stomachs were soon coated in the warm, sticky stuff, intensifying the sensation of his skin passing over the tip. This just seemed to feed back into my climax, drawing it out longer.

Slowly, the orgasm ebbed away, but Dave was still fucking me. My cock was now unbearably sensitive to the wet, slimy hairs being rubbed against it. My arse, too, felt tender, the muscles contracting to try to force the invader out, but each time they succeeded, it was rammed back in. I had hoped he would climax at the same time as me, but he had already cum that evening, so, of course, it was taking him longer.

“Yes! Uh!” he finally exclaimed, just as I started to squirm under him to get free.

With one last thrust, he went as deep as he could and stayed there, raised up on straightened arms, his face twisted in the unmistakable expression of orgasm. In my hypersensitive state, I felt his cock pulse and the first hot jet of liquid shoot up inside me. It seemed to awaken the last vestiges of my own orgasm, and I moaned. Another spurt, and another, then he fell on top of me with a moan of his own, his full weight pinning me to the mattress.

He shuddered and gave another couple of half thrusts, causing a drop or two of semen to escape and dribble slowly down to my back while he pumped more inside me. Lifting himself up on one elbow, he covered my mouth with a sloppy tongue kiss, then collapsed back with his face in the pillow, panting. His cock gave a few final spasms and then went still inside me.

As he relaxed on top of me, and the excitement faded away, I became aware that there was no TV noise from next door and wondered how long they had had it off and how much they had heard. The banging of a bed against the wall had been a pretty obvious announcement of what we were up to, even if they couldn’t make out what we were saying. I listened carefully, both embarrassed and somehow proud that the brunette might realise I was being fucked by another man. Nothing. Maybe they had gone out. No, I could just make out low talking. Well, hopefully, they were not complaining to the hotel management to get us thrown out for having obnoxiously loud sex.

My mind returned to my immediate situation. I was trapped under a large, heavy, hairy, and now quite sweaty man. He might have been asleep, he was so still apart from the rise and fall of his back from breathing. His soft belly was stuck to mine by my now slowly cooling spunk, with my shrinking cock between them. His cock was still inside me and still thick, though not so hard anymore, which was a mercy, as post-orgasm having something in there at all feels uncomfortable.

I lay there, staring at the bland, white ceiling. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could feel the warm semen trapped further up my tunnel. Some of my self-consciousness was returning, now that my basest desires had been satisfied, and I was starting to regret the lack of a condom, but I forced myself to experience every second of its slow exit from me. Dave made no effort to withdraw, but my muscles were giving involuntary contractions around his member every now and then, making it inch its way ever outwards.

Finally, after I don’t know how many minutes of lying there, it reached a critical state of softness and slid the rest of the way out with the next squeeze of my sphincter. A small cascade of cum accompanied it, though it felt like there was plenty more still inside me. When I lowered my legs, it squished between my buttocks and the sheet, and his wet cock dragged over my balls to rest next to mine. It was another few minutes before my lover for the night rolled off and joined me in contemplation of the ceiling.

“Thank you, Robin,” he said, turning to me after a few more minutes. “Thank you for letting me be your first.”

“Thank you for being my first,” I murmured, smiling weakly and feeling a bit ridiculous saying that phrase, but at the time, I meant it. I felt kind of dirty from the sweat, my cum on my stomach and his cum leaking from my arse, but the power of that orgasm was undeniable.

“I’m going to go to the toilet and brush my teeth,” he announced after another period of silence.

“Okay,” I acknowledged but did not move. My legs felt like jelly. Only when he came out did I shakily pull myself up from the bed to take my turn in the bathroom.

“You really were a great fuck,” he assured me, patting me on the back on his way past as I bent over my backpack to get my toilet bag. I smiled in response but just kept thinking of the sticky mess oozing down the back of my legs.

Shutting the bathroom door, I forced myself to look in the mirror. My face was flushed, and the hair on my abdomen was matted with cum, but otherwise, I had not outwardly changed from losing my virginity. Dave had not given me any instructions about washing this time, but much as I wanted to get the stickiness off, I couldn’t really be bothered showering right then — I just wanted to go to sleep. He had not showered, so he couldn’t complain. I decided to wipe the worst of the dried cum out of my hairs, at least, as I knew that could get uncomfortable. Then I went to the toilet, sitting down like a girl even though I just needed to pee as I could hardly stand.

Once I had fulfilled my obligation to nature, I reached between my legs and felt my arse. All around my entrance was slick with lube and cum that had not had a chance to dry out. It was tender, ached a bit, as my whole bottom did from such a long session, and felt a little swollen, but not seriously hurt. Absurdly, I had a hilarious vision of myself waking up stuck to the sheets by the semen leaking out of it. I washed my hands, brushed my teeth, and forced all intruding thoughts away with the excuse that I was tired, even though it was only just gone nine o’clock.

The room was darker when I came out, with only the lamp by Dave’s side of the bed lit. It was only when the older man already in it threw back a corner of the duvet that I fully realised that meeting in a hotel implied sleeping in the same bed as my partner afterwards. Really, I wanted to go home and sleep alone, but that was not an option, so I got in next to him. He turned the light off and then wrapped his warm, manly body around mine.

I surrendered, pushing my back into his hairy chest and letting his arm wrap around mine. It felt very odd, and was not something I had ever imagined or thought I wanted, but, in a way, it did feel nice and safe.

I could drift off to sleep like this, I thought.

Except, I couldn’t.

To be continued...