The story I am about to tell you is about Richard; 28 years old Australian, supposedly straight, a little awkward but completely curious, and very nonchalant. Short, muscular, and surprisingly confident in that quiet way, he had this aura that drew me in immediately. I met him through Hinge, nothing too serious at first. Just playful banter, teasing messages, jokes, a little flirtation that was easy and natural. But beneath that casual chatter was something I could feel: curiosity, desire, a tiny flicker of rebellion against what he usually considered normal.
Before I get into that, I should explain something about me. I have a particular weakness for bulges and underwear. Something about the way fabric hugs a man in all the right places, the tension, the color, the texture against the skin, the way it hints at what is beneath without showing it fully. I can’t help but notice the smallest details: a waistband peeking just above low-slung jeans, the subtle outline of a cock pressing against soft fabric, the curve of a thigh disappearing under snug cotton. It is a mix of temptation and anticipation for me, and I am shameless about it. So yes, meeting Richard was instantly exciting because I could already imagine him in those tight, teasing trunks, and it was a thought I did not want to ignore.
The First Meet
When I first arrived at his apartment, he opened the door casually, smiling in that relaxed way that made everything feel easier than it had any right to. He was wearing loose basketball shorts, a simple white T-shirt, and nothing else, really emphasizing his compact, muscular frame. His chest was firm, arms sculpted, slightly hairy in that natural way, and I could already tell he had worked hard for this body. His legs were thick, thighs defined, calves solid, and the shorts rode low enough that I caught a teasing glimpse of the waistband of his underwear. The bulge beneath it was noticeable, even without trying, and I had to suppress a grin at the thought of what lay beneath.
Richard welcomed me in, gesturing to the living room. He had a casual, minimalist style, a few books scattered on a shelf, a record player in the corner, and sunlight pouring in through a big window. There was a faint scent of cologne, mixed with the clean smell, and I could feel my pulse quicken. He offered me a drink, and I could see the slight nervousness in his eyes, even as he tried to play it off as relaxed.
“So you’re actually here,” he said, voice low but slightly hesitant, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “I guess we’re really doing this.”
I smirked, feeling my own excitement building. “Yeah. I mean, I am. You?”
He laughed softly, a little embarrassed, and nodded. “I am… curious. I have never… you know… with a guy before.”
That made me grin wider. “First time, huh? I get it. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
His short frame seemed even smaller as he shifted a little in the room, a nervous energy radiating from him, but I could also see the tension in his bulge through the thin cotton of his underwear. Thick, uncut, eight inches, and by far the biggest I had ever seen...(yes.. ofcourse he'd sent me bunch of pictures before meeting up). It pressed against the fabric in a way that made my imagination run wild. I tried not to stare, but of course, I did.
We talked a little more, casual chatter, small jokes, trying to get comfortable with each other. I noticed how his shorts clung to him, highlighting every curve of his cock, the way it rested naturally when he moved, the swell of it against the waistband. I could feel my own arousal rising, imagining the feel of him in my hands, the taste of him on my lips.
Eventually, I decided it was time to take the first step. I moved a little closer, my hand brushing lightly against the front of his shorts. He inhaled sharply but didn’t pull away, his hand resting on my shoulder in silent encouragement. I pressed a little more firmly, feeling the weight of him through the fabric. Thick, hardening slightly at my touch, his skin warm and responsive beneath my fingers.
“Fuck,” he muttered, low and breathless. “I don’t know if I will get hard..."
I just smiled, teasing him, “You’ll be fine. Relax.”
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating, and I could see the lust building in him. I took my hand further, slipping under the waistband of his underwear, brushing over the sensitive skin of his cock. It twitched under my touch, thick and pulsing, glistening already.
“Damn,” he breathed, hips lifting slightly. “You know what you are doing.”
I smirked, enjoying the control, the sensation of him growing beneath me. I lowered my mouth to his cock, pressing my lips against the tip through the fabric. He groaned immediately, fingers tangling in my hair as I teased him, swirling my tongue over the tip, feeling him twitch against my mouth.
When I slid his underwear and shorts fully down, freeing him, I took in the full sight: thick, uncut, glistening, bigger than any I had experienced. The smell of him was intoxicating, musky, warm, making my mouth water. I kissed the head slowly, tasting him, teasing him with my tongue as he shivered under my touch.
“Fuck dude,” he groaned, gripping my shoulders as I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks around the thick length, tasting his 8 inchs. His hips rolled against my mouth, testing me, pushing deeper. I didn’t stop. I wanted him to feel everything, wanted him to trust me completely.
Then he reached for a small bottle of lube, squeezing a little over himself, a sweet strawberry scent wafting up. I paused, tasting a little as it coated his cock. It felt weird at first, sugary and foreign, but I didn’t pull back. I kept going, the flavor strange but addictive, making him groan louder.
“Uh… maybe wipe it off..? It tastes funny” I murmured after a few moments, needing the natural feel again.
He nodded, grabbing a towel and cleaning himself off, his eyes dark with lust as he handed it back to me. “Haha. It's better now?”
“Much,” I said, lowering my lips onto his cock again, this time fully focused, taking him deep, face swallowing his dick whole as he stood tall. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, pressing himself against my mouth as I worked him with precision and care. Thick, hard, uncut, the biggest I had experienced, every movement of him sending jolts of pleasure through me.
I was kneeling, he was standing, and I took him fully, letting him set the pace, my lips, tongue, and hands working together. He moaned, swore softly, and pressed down against me, his hips rolling in rhythm with the way I moved. I could feel the heat, the slickness, the power of him, and I reveled in being the first to take him there, in controlling the experience while he surrendered to it.
Minutes passed, the room filled with the sound of his groans, the slap of his cock against my face, the scent of him strong and fruity now (because of the strawberry lube). My hands gripped his thighs, exploring, teasing, feeling every muscle tense and release. He was shivering, gasping, letting out low, guttural moans, utterly lost in the sensations I was giving him.
And then, finally, he came. Thick, hot, filling my mouth, sliding down my throat. I swallowed every drop, licking along the head and shaft, savoring the taste, the moment, the thrill of being the first to make him feel this way. He leaned against me, still shaking, his chest rising and falling rapidly, a dazed grin spreading across his face.
I pulled back slightly, letting him catch his breath, grinning up at him, knowing the effect I had. “And you said, you wouldn't get hard” I asked softly, brushing his damp hair from his forehead.
He laughed breathlessly, shaking his head. “Yeah… wow… that was… insane. I didn’t think… I mean, damn…”
We laughed together, the tension melting, the air charged with shared excitement. I couldn’t help but glance down at him, at the full, thick cock I had just taken apart and the outline of his underwear I had admired moments before.
Our first meet ended with us standing there, catching our breath, my lips still tingling from the taste of him. The strawberry lube had left a strange sweet taste at first, but I had adjusted quickly, and after he wiped himself with the towel, I had gone right back to him, kneeling while he stood, taking him completely, enjoying every inch of him. It was intense, exhilarating, and exactly what I wanted.
That night, as I left, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the curve of his muscles, the bulge in his briefs, the way he shivered under my mouth. I knew, I'd be meeting him again.
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