So ended my initial seduction. Should I call it that? What else can I? I’d planned it to see if my man phobia was age-related. Well, it looked as though it might be. Even though I hadn’t fucked John (yet) or even given him a blow job (yet), I’d felt none of the panic attack symptoms that usually stalk me in the presence of men, especially when alone with men. I hoped, at our next meeting (can’t call it a date), I might ge...

Despite having just cum a mere ten minutes before, Michael's cock was hard and ready for Kayla's mouth. It was quite simply an opportunity that hormones wouldn't let fall by the wayside. As a sexual being, the sight of a gorgeous, naked girl kneeling down in front of your own naked body was a sign that you were being called upon by some sort of evolutionary selection process. Sex between these two individuals—and all that...

Knowing that she was about to give Michael his first-ever blow job absolutely exhilarated Kayla. Once again, it elicited a strong sense of naughtiness knowing that she had beaten all the girls who liked him as much as she did. She won. She presented herself as an ideal sexual mate and was being rewarded with a thick, smooth penis to be only hers. Finally, Michael told Kayla what he wanted her to do. He instructed her to p...

"And now"—as Kayla spoke, she grabbed hold of Michael's boxers from either side of the waistband—"it's time to take care of you." Before the underwear came off, she wanted to tease him a little and also work to drive him mad. "And let me tell you," she continued, "you deserve it after that. Don't you think?" Michael reached up and rubbed the back of his head. "Uh...I guess." The muscles in his raised arm were flexing beau...

A virgin!?! "How is that possible?" Kayla asked the stud sitting in front of her. "Have you looked in the mirror?" She was bewildered. "I, uh, I don't know," Michael said, practically in a whisper. His eyes were glued to Kayla's bare pussy, and he just couldn't seem to look away. Kayla looked down to see a full hard-on poking desperately up against Michael's thin shorts. Surely, the garment was being stretched to the abso...

Kayla smiled widely. "You like me?" Michael quickly retreated. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." There was no way she was going to let this moment fizzle away. She made sure to keep him exactly where he was in his thoughts. "No, I'm glad you said it. Why haven't you told me before? We've hung out so many times." "I guess I was just...nervous," said Michael, rubbing the back of his neck making sure to avoid eye cont...

"So, this is the place, huh? It's nice!" Kayla offered to take Michael's coat and knapsack as he admired the apartment. "Thanks," he said, appreciating her hospitality. "Don't mention it." As he pulled his right arm out of his sleeve, Kayla jumped in to assist. Michael couldn't help but notice that one of her hands was on his biceps, squeezing gently, as the other took over and did the work for him, pulling the jacket off...

Aaron was debating going to the office party. He never went, but maybe this year he should go. He lived alone and often felt lonely. Socializing was just often difficult. He was into weird things and had a hard time not info-dumping on people during conversation. It always hurt when people would be into him, but then realize what it meant when he told them he had autism and then lost interest because they couldn’t handle...

It was the summer between my first and second year at college. In June, my Mom came up with an idea that would let me make a little money, do a good deed, and get my lazy ass out of the house—a win-win for everybody. Her recently-divorced friend from church, Sharon, needed minor repairs on her old, boxy two-story house. Her husband had taken care of everything, and he was gone. So I called Sharon for directions, put some...

“God damn!  You ain’t sticking that boloney roll in me!”  That ended Don’s and my chances of pussy that night. There were three of us; me, Don, and Bob.  I lived about twenty-five miles out in the country and had a car.  Bob lived in the city’s West End, the “baddest part of town”, as a Jim Croce song phrased it.  Don lived in a small town about fifteen miles north of the city.  We’d all met via CB radios and had become f...

Freedom of the PressWhen I was twenty years old I decided to use a newspaper to improve my romantic life. To be more precise, I wanted to create a romantic life where none had existed before. I had gone to the City College of New York expecting to meet girls - or even just one girl, perhaps - as well as get a degree to improve my chances for some as yet unspecified career.By the summer of 1975 between my sophomore and jun...

Alone at that bar on my thirty-fifth birthday, I had to disagree with those magazines that claimed this was my sexual peak. Having a drink while I waited for the tow truck, about the last thing I expected to hear was someone offering to buy me another. I didn’t need to turn to know he was drunk and desperate. The former was confirmed by the sound of the voice; the latter, by my appearance: the bulky sweater that masked my...