I felt the head of his cock press against my hole. The mix of excitement and alcohol made me tremble from the inside out. I only wanted one thing:
To feel Adrien inside me.
To get fucked by a guy for the first time.
By this guy specifically.
His cock.
So I pushed past my hesitation and slowly started impaling myself on his hard shaft, standing rigid between my fingers. I told myself—maybe naïvely—that being on top, controlling everything myself, would keep it from hurting too much.
Yeah.
I was completely wrong.
Even before he actually entered me, I could already tell getting penetrated was something serious. Something that could genuinely hurt. The head of his cock alone already felt like a huge obstacle.
And like an idiot, I forced it.
I wanted him inside me so badly that I pushed myself down harder onto the biologist, who was staring up at me with an expression caught somewhere between fascination and fear.
It was both our first time with another guy.
His hands rested on my smooth thighs, though every now and then he’d lift them away for a second, like he wanted to give me room. His lips stayed slightly parted, breathing unevenly, even moaning sometimes when the pressure on his cock became too intense.
Then he finally cursed when he slid into me.
“Ahhh… Steph!”
POP
There it was.
He was inside me.
The very tip had barely entered when a violent burning sensation tore through my entire ass.
A cry escaped me too:
“Fu— aaah…”
Fuck, it hurt.
Why did it hurt this much? We’d prepared for this, hadn’t we?
The pain was so intense I grabbed Adrien around the neck with both hands and pressed my forehead against his. He was trembling too, gently stroking my sides, worried.
“Steph… wait! Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer. I shut my eyes tight and clenched my teeth, trying to endure it.
I had never felt pain like this before. So deep. So brutal.
The pain was supposed to fade eventually, right?
I could feel the head of his cock stretching my poor hole apart, hard and relentless, almost impossibly so. He wasn’t even really inside me yet and my whole body already felt assaulted by raw, searing pain.
Was it even reasonable to keep going?
Doubt started creeping in.
Then my legs began trembling under Adrien’s large warm hands as he tried to figure out what was happening.
“Fuck… Steph, stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself!”
He was right.
And I should’ve listened.
I should’ve stopped sooner.
But wanting his cock drowned out everything else, so I stayed there, gritting my teeth so hard my eyes narrowed shut.
I tried thinking about pleasant things. His warmth. His hugs. Even his cum on my body and inside my mouth.
And then, maybe after several minutes of intense burning, the pain finally started easing a little.
Without waiting any further, like a complete idiot too impatient to experience something new and prove I could handle it, I kept lowering myself onto his cock, trying a few clumsy little thrusts.
Tears started forming in my eyes.
The pain was coming back, worse this time, spreading through my entire hole.
I kept sinking down on him, but everything felt dry and uncomfortable, too hot, too harsh.
I moved in painful jerks, biting my lip as waves of burning kept catching me off guard again and again.
I can handle this.
For him.
“Steph… don’t force yourself! Why are you doing this?”
And then I felt it.
Adrien wasn’t really hard inside me anymore.
His cock was getting softer. I’d only managed to take a few inches, but I could tell: that unique curve of his wasn’t as pronounced anymore.
And then I felt him slipping out.
Adrien, no!
Stay inside me!
Fighting against the fire raging in my lower stomach, I grabbed his cock and tried guiding it back into place.
Too late.
Adrien wasn’t hard enough anymore, and I felt his shaft—softer now, slick with lube and sweat—slide partly out of me. He took the opportunity to spread my cheeks and lift my ass slightly, pulling almost all the way free.
“Steph… that’s enough.”
And with one small wet pop, his cock, still wrapped in the condom, slipped completely out of me.
“Wait… we can try again, I’ll—”
“No. Wait.”
He grabbed the condom at the base of his cock, his smile completely gone now.
“Oh shi—”
He didn’t even finish the sentence before I realized what was wrong.
Horrified, I snatched the condom from his fingers and threw it straight into the trash beside the toilet before immediately apologizing over and over.
“Sorry! I’m really sorry!”
Adrien sighed, avoiding my gaze, one hand pressed against his damp forehead.
“Why did you keep going if it hurt that much?”
“I… I wanted it so badly.”
He sighed again before gently pushing me back.
“I need to wash.”
Anxiety clenched in my chest.
My panic seemed to annoy him. Or maybe just exhaust him. I don’t know. But in that moment it felt like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
That gesture he made.
It felt final.
Like he was pushing me away for good.
I moved off his lap so he could stand up, then sat on the toilet myself, wiping my ass with toilet paper, trying to erase every trace of what we’d done as fast as possible.
I’d dirtied him.
Without saying a word, Adrien went to the sink and rinsed his long soft cock under the water, his eyes distant.
“I’m sorry.” I kept repeating, drying my hole, making sure it was all clean.
He stayed silent for a while, carefully cleaning every inch of his shaft, eyes low and visibly shameful.
Fuck…
I’d disgusted him.
The condom had been stained with a color I never wanted to see on Adrien’s cock.
Thank god he’d worn one.
But in my stupidity, I’d convinced myself the dildo had somehow “cleaned me out,” that I’d automatically be ready for a real cock afterward.
What an idiot.
Seriously, what a fucking idiot.
“It’s not your fault. You were in too much pain anyway,” Adrien finally said while drying his hands. “I’m going home.”
When he said those last words, he couldn’t even look at me again. He just unlocked the bathroom stall and walked out.
And suddenly he looked so heavy.
Like the weight of everything was sitting on his shoulders.
Idiot…
You just ruined your first time.
Your first time with Adrien.
And he’s going to remember it forever.
The walk back to the apartment was miserable.
A thousand thoughts kept spinning through my head. Bitter, frustrating thoughts made even worse by the alcohol blurring everything together:
I should’ve prepared better.
I should’ve researched more.
Hell, I probably should’ve asked Julien for advice, considering how experienced he seemed.
I should’ve. I should’ve.
Too late now, Steph.
You ruined your chance with Adrien, but maybe you can still fix things.
You just need to give him time.
That’s what I kept telling myself as I walked back toward the apartment.
Wednesday night.
9 p.m. No food, too much alcohol, and thoroughly failed sex.
Barely a third of his dick had gotten inside me. And even that was hard to judge in that position. And what a painful first experience.
Still, as I scanned my badge to get into the building, good memories kept floating back up anyway.
His smile. Our conversations. The museum. Drinks at the bar. His hugs. His scent. His warmth. The way his height wrapped around me so easily. Everything that got us closer throughout the days.
This wouldn’t be in vain.
Adrien had looked disappointed, sure, but maybe by tomorrow this whole thing would already feel less dramatic. Maybe it wasn’t that serious. Compared to everything wrong in the world, one failed 1st time could probably be fixed. We’d just have to do better next time.
Take it slower.
As I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, swaying slightly, still shaken by what had happened, I remembered what Adrien had told me the week before:
“I want to try kissing a man.”
And the desperate kiss that had followed.
Why isn’t sex as easy as kissing?
And why the hell does my ass still burn?
Adrien hadn’t been inside me for a while now.
Guess I really handled this badly. Or maybe starting with Adrien’s huge cock had simply been too ambitious for a first time.
As I climbed the stairs, my steps heavy and uneven, questions kept piling up in my hazy mind:
Don’t people say first times are always bad?
Well, this one had been spectacularly awful.
Painful.
Disappointing.
Does bottoming always hurt this much in gay relationships?
That would be unbelievably unfair.
And cruel.
There has to be pleasure in it for both people.
There has to.
When I opened the apartment door, the living room was almost completely dark, lit only by the TV flashing blue light across the couch and the two muscular roommates sitting on it.
Julien looked half asleep while Greg stared thoughtfully at the screen — some sports competition I didn’t even bother identifying. They were both in their boxers now, legs spread and relaxed.
“Yo, Steph!”
Greg’s deep voice startled Julien awake:
“Hm? What?”
“You were with Adrien, right?” the rugby obsessed roommate asked, finishing off a bowl of apple crumble.
Looks like they’d just eaten.
Maybe I should’ve stayed with them instead of going to that bar…
No, don’t say idiotic things Steph.
“Hey,” I muttered, suddenly feeling a lump in my throat.
My throat felt so tight.
I wasn’t seriously about to cry now, was I?
Not in front of them.
“Oh? So how’d the date go?” Julien asked this time. “You two didn’t come back together.”
I didn’t answer. I just wished them goodnight and slowly dragged myself toward my room.
As I passed the hallway leading to my bedroom, Adrien’s room, and our shared bathroom, I noticed light glowing beneath his door. Soft, melancholy music drifted out into the corridor.
Probably another one of those slow, aching saxophone tracks he loved.
I didn’t dare knock. Didn’t even ask if he was okay.
I went straight into the bathroom.
I took my time cleaning myself up, letting the hot water slowly pull me out of my mental fog, clearing my thoughts little by little. At one point a shaky moan escaped my throat, from exhaustion as much as emotion.
I was angry at myself.
Suddenly I felt desperate to scrub everything clean, and I stayed under the shower way longer than I meant to, making sure I was pristine. I took my time yeah, but honestly, I think I needed it. The water calmed me down after everything that had happened. It felt almost necessary.
I also took the time to thoroughly wash the plug in the sink with an absurd amount of soap.
If I’d bothered checking before throwing myself at Adrien earlier, I would’ve noticed it was already dirty. I would’ve realized I wasn’t remotely ready for him.
Such a fucking idiot…
Adrien deserved better than me.
When I finally stepped out of the shower, I’d made up my mind.
Tomorrow was another day.
Wearing nothing but my boxer briefs, I walked back into the living room. The two athletes were still staring at the game, distracted and quiet, both lounging around in their undies too.
As soon as I approached, they understood immediately.
Without saying a word, Greg shifted to make room for me between him and Julien. Julien gave me a small smile, but for once, no joke followed it.
I think they both realized something had happened, because neither of them pushed. I caught them exchanging a glance before their eyes drifted back over my freshly showered body.
I didn’t want to talk. They knew that.
So they kept quietly commenting on the match every now and then, low voices, scattered remarks, just enough noise to let me enjoy the calm without feeling alone.
Eventually I leaned sideways, then stretched out fully, resting my head on the rugby player’s massive thigh while my legs settled across Julien’s lap, skin against skin.
Julien casually rested a hand on my thigh almost immediately. He seemed to enjoy how smooth they were even more than me.
I was still getting used to it.
But I must admit: his curious touch on my smooth skin like that felt great.
Greg looked surprised by my move at first. Almost awkward. Like he genuinely didn’t know what to do.
Then he did something I never would’ve expected from him:
Slowly, gently, he ran a hand through my hair.
The three of us stayed there together in this strange, silent, understanding cuddle.
And somehow, because of them, the night hurt less.
I think I fell asleep.
At some point I became vaguely aware that someone was carrying me back to my room.
Heavy footsteps. Broad pecs pressing against me like firm pillows. The thick smell of sweat.
Greg carried me to my bed and carefully laid me down.
Then pulled a sheet over me.
And maybe I dreamed it, but I felt something one last time.
His hand gently stroking my hair.
Before finally letting me drift completely to sleep.
- - -
Thursday morning, the first thing I did was texting Julien, privately:
“Hey, I’m gonna need your help about something.”
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