I ran.
I ran because I felt like something might happen with Adrien. Like I’d somehow sensed he was calling for help, in his own way, through that simple text: trying not to worry me.
But it had done the exact opposite.
He hadn’t given me an address, but I knew the bar he meant: the one we’d gone to after the exhibition. That cheap student place that somehow undercut every other bar in town. Where he used to drink when he was a student.
Part of me was worried he might be in a really bad place.
So I ran.
And then I stopped.
After barely five minutes, the plug inside me made it impossible to keep going.
Idiot.
I’d tried to ignore it, but the plastic buried in my ass clearly wasn’t made for running. I could feel it shifting inside me: half stimulating, half irritating, a combination that was only going to end badly if I kept pushing.
So I slowed down. Walked.
Even then, the sensations weren’t exactly pleasant… but there was something undeniably exciting about it.
Walking past people (women with their dogs, groups of students, professors biking home) and being that close to them, knowing they had no idea I had a plug snug inside me.
It was weird.
And thrilling. Like I had some power over them, in a way.
- - -
By the time I reached the bar, about twenty minutes had passed. At the counter, the waitress asked what I wanted, but I had something else on my mind.
Adrien.
I scanned the terrace. Nothing. The front room: just a blonde waitress filling up one of those giant 3-liter beer towers the med students loved.
“I’m looking for a tall guy, messy dark hair. He comes here a lot.”
“Oh, Adrien? Yeah, he’s in the back.”
Of course he was.
Apparently, mister postdoc has his habits.
And honestly… I liked the idea of ending up in that back room again. The one with the red armchairs and those slightly rough wooden tables. It felt quieter there.
More intimate.
I went in the back, the metal music playing on the speakers near the counter slowly faded.
There was only one person inside.
Adrien.
No way to miss him, with that hair of his. He was slouched over, head tilted toward the table, gaze unfocused. Three empty pints sat beside him.
When he heard me, he jolted slightly—and then smiled.
A real smile.
The dark green jacket suited him so well, over a simple white T-shirt. A vibrant look, effortless, but perfect.
He looked… really good.
And yet, something felt off.
“Oh! That was fast!”
Well, could’ve been even faster!
“I came as soon as I saw your message.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “I was finishing my last beer. Come on, join me.”
Three pints.
“Uh… I’ll grab a drink, but… are you sure you don’t want to slow down a bit?”
That seemed to snap him out of his haze. His eyes sharpened, locking onto mine:
“What do you mean?”
His tone shifted. A hint of defensiveness.
I shrugged:
“Whatever you want.”
No point pushing.
Adrien could handle his alcohol anyway.
“You’ve been here long?”
He ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat:
“Yeah… a bit. I was sick of the lab, figured I’d work here, but…” He let out a short laugh. “Didn’t last.”
I sat down beside him, and before I even thought about it, I leaned in and kissed his left cheek.
At first, I’d meant to go for the usual French greeting (La bise, your know the drill), both cheeks… but I stopped after the first. His face was turned, the second side harder to reach.
And strangely, that single kiss felt way more intimate than the usual routine.
Funny—some regions in France only do one.
For us, though, it wasn’t a habit at all. Adrien definitely noticed. He blinked, surprised, then a playful smile spread across his face:
“Hey… what was that?”
“I… I don’t know how we’re supposed to greet each other,” I admitted. “What do you want?”
His smile softened, something warmer slipping into it.
For a few seconds, he didn’t answer. His lips parted slightly, like he was about to speak, but nothing came out.
Instead, he just looked at me.
And that look…
It said everything.
He took my hand, placed it gently on my knee, before coming up to cup one of my cheeks.
Heat rushed through me.
His lips moved closer fast.
And then they were on mine.
A guy was kissing me.
In broad daylight.
In a bar.
It felt… normal.
Like this wasn’t a first: it was the beginning of something. Like this was just what we did now.
Like we were together.
Dating...
I still had trouble wrapping my head around it.
His tongue didn’t hesitate, pushing deeper, and I tasted the beer (IPA again) spreading through my mouth, like he was sharing it with me. It made me shiver, a soft sound escaping me before I could stop it.
God, I’ve made the right call leaving Greg and Julien.
Our mouths moved together, slow at first, then more intense, a rhythm building between us. I felt alive again, like all the energy I’d been drained of earlier was rushing back, wave after wave, as Adrien grew more and more into it.
We only broke apart when the waitress came over.
She hesitated, clearly not wanting to interrupt, even starting to turn away, but Adrien stopped her.
“Oh wait! We’ll take a Vedette, and…” He glanced at me. For a split second, I could see a thin string of saliva landing on the table between us. “You? What do you want to start with?”
I’d already had the best start possible.
“Uh… pick something I haven’t tried yet,” I said. “You’re the expert.”
“Give him a Bête Blanche,” Adrien decided. “He might like it.”
“Got it,” the waitress said, smiling as she walked off.
- - -
He was beautiful when he talked.
That was becoming clearer and clearer.
Adrien was a handsome man. No doubt about it. And as we talked—biology, history, music—I felt something growing inside me.
I wanted more of this.
More time.
More conversations like this.
More moments like that kiss.
And… more of his body.
I wanted to make him feel good.
Really good.
There was something almost instinctive now: a need to please him. To taste him again, that warm, slightly sweet flavor I hadn’t been able to forget. To see those powerful cum bursts again landing all over his tall body shaking from the climax, to feel his load on my tongue, sweat and thick.
And also…
to feel him inside me.
Instead of that stupid plug.
The thought wouldn’t leave me.
It burned.
I wanted him to replace it. Even just a little. Just enough to know what it felt like: to be taken for the first time.
By him.
Because somehow… I’d been saving that for him.
As ridiculous as it sounded, in my head, it just made sense.
It couldn’t be anyone else. It was him or nothing.
After that… we’d see. I mean, sure, part of me was curious what it would be like with the others. Could be fun to fuck with Julien or even Greg, just to compare.
Purely scientific curiosity.
We finished our first drink, and I could feel Adrien slowly letting go of his usual reserve: he seemed less lost in his thoughts, less distant, more playful as the alcohol settled in. Like it gave him permission to be more forward with me.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
- - -
Time passed. At some point, hunger hit me out of nowhere. It had to be around 9 p.m., and we hadn’t eaten a thing, just kept drinking. I could feel it too, that shift: looser, less guarded.
And his energy was contagious.
His hand lingered longer on my thigh… then didn’t leave at all. Sometimes he’d squeeze my knee just enough to make me jump. Other times, his hand slid up my back, slow, absent-minded strokes that weren’t absent-minded at all.
Mine, of course, didn’t stay still either. It slipped under the table before long, brushing against the bulge in his pants.
The back room had filled up a bit while we talked, but it didn’t matter. It felt like we were alone.
In our own little bubble! whispering close, laughing softly, teasing each other, hands wandering in ways that were only barely discreet.
I didn’t care.
I felt so good with him. Even better than any ex girlfriend I had (which was not a lot, but still…)
Way better than any other girl I’d known actually.
More… authentic in a way.
And then… maybe I pushed it a bit too far.
I really needed the bathroom. And since the hunger was kicking in too, I suggested we head out and grab something to eat. He agreed immediately.
Then I added, casually:
“Don’t come right away. Wait a minute, then join me. Less suspicious.”
I already knew the layout. Several stalls, one tucked away at the end of a narrow corridor. If we were lucky, we wouldn’t be disturbed.
I just wanted him.
Even five minutes.
Even one.
When I told him what I had in mind, his cheeks flushed instantly, his freckles deepening in color.
“Fuck… I’ve never done that, man,” he said—but the excitement in his eyes gave him away. “You sure? We could get caught.”
“Just a few minutes. Then we leave anyway. Last stall.”
I shot him a final, slightly wicked look before heading downstairs.
Ready to claim my reward.
- - -
After taking care of business, I rinsed myself off at the sink, drying carefully.
Just in case… maybe he’d want a taste this time.
The stall was decently sized: not as big as the one at uni where I’d played around with the toy, but enough for two people, a sink, and a toilet.
I’d barely finished drying my hands when someone knocked.
I opened immediately, pulling Adrien inside like a teenager sneaking their boyfriend past their parents: half excited, half nervous.
“If I get caught having sex here, I’m done for,” he muttered. “No more Vedette after class.”
“Relax,” I whispered, locking the door. “I’m sure half the students do it.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
“Maybe… less than before.”
I turned to him and kissed him again: deeper this time while holding his arms.
My tongue pushed in, met his, played with it, driving him back step by step until he had no choice but to sit on the toilet seat.
“Wow… you’re hungry,” he murmured, clearly surprised at how forward I was being. “What are you planning?”
“Your cock,” I said simply, smiling and the smile spread to him instantly. “I want it.”
“Then come get it.”
I dropped to my knees (yeah, I was definitely spending a lot of time on my knees in public places lately) and started undoing his pants.
The bulge I’d been teasing finally sprang free.
His cock jumped up, the head hitting his abs as I pulled his underwear down to his ankles.
“It’s so beautiful,” I breathed, unable to look away.
He shivered, his gaze hazy with desire.
“Fuck… you really like it that much.”
“I love it.” My hand wrapped around him, slowly sliding the skin back and forth over the red head. “It’s… unique.”
He let out a soft laugh as I stroked him, his length hard and angled toward his stomach.
That curve…
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
He didn’t answer. His mouth hung slightly open, breathing heavier, anticipation building.
“Is it your favorite?” He asked, almost ashamed of asking.
“You’re my favorite Adrien.” I simply answered. “And you know it.”
“Fuck...”
I didn’t wait any further.
I leaned in, taking the first inches into my mouth, eager, my tongue tracing over the head, tasting him: the musky scent, the faint salt, the little beads of pre-cum forming.
He moaned immediately: soft, breathy, completely unguarded and his hands came to rest on my head. Not pushing, not guiding… just there. Holding me. Feeling me.
Like he needed the contact.
And I felt so good with him.
Even with my knees starting to ache.
Even with the pressure still inside me, demanding release.
I pushed my jeans down quickly, a little shaky, never letting go of him for more than a second, finishing with a kiss pressed to his soft, hairy balls before rising back up.
“I want more,” I said, breathless. “Now.”
I stepped closer, straddling his legs.
“I want you inside me.”
He looked dazed, but then his eyes snapped wide open, like I’d just said something unreal.
“W… what? Now?” His hands grabbed my hips, stopping me from moving closer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes… I want to feel you inside me, Adrien.” I cupped his face, impatient. “Do you want to do it with me?”
His breath hit my lips, quick and uneven. I kissed him once, short, encouraging.
“I don’t know… what if we get caught?”
“Just a minute. Please.”
My heart was racing.
This was it.
“I… okay.” He tilted his head back slightly, still overwhelmed. “You’re sure?”
“Yes…” I positioned myself over him, standing as he sat, reaching back, spreading myself as I leaned forward. “I’ve never been more sure.”
With one motion, I pulled out the plug that had been filling me for too long, tossing it into the sink.
“Fuck.” I heard him cursing under me. “What was that?”
“The thing I used to train. To take your cock. Adrien.”
Then I lowered myself slowly—unsteady from the alcohol—guiding myself down, lining up against him.
The head pressed against me.
Hard.
So fucking hard.
And for the first time, it wasn’t about curiosity anymore.
Shit… almost forgot.
The XL condoms Julien had bought for me. I was about to forget them!
Even though I couldn’t get pregnant, was still needed them.
“Wait… since when did you shave your legs man?” Adrien asked, his curious hands grabbing my thighs. “and why?”
“This morning. Still fresh.” And it hurt a bit. “You like it?”
I fetched for one in my jean pocket on the ground, opened it up and started putting it on Adrien’s lengthy rod. It was a challenge to actually roll the plastic around his rock hard shaft without breaking it.
“Well… that feels great.” He whispered, almost unsure. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
Fuck...
XL might not even be enough for him!
We know how the designers chose the names: they add X everywhere to reassure men with average dick sizes. But Adrien was not average, far from it. His cock was a beast!
Fuck…
It didn’t reach all the way to his balls. He was that long.
But… did it really matter anyway?
This was just to feel it inside of me. I wasn’t expecting him to cum inside…
At least… not now.
And then, I lowered myself on his huge cock.
All this training with Julien. This was about to finally come to use. Like this part of me—something I’d never really thought about before—was finally meant for something else.
My hole was about to gain a new purpose for ever.
It was about to please a man.
I was bout to get fucked for the first time!
Just for his pleasure.
Just for him.
For my Adrien.
For the man I wanted to give everything to.
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