Did you know that the gay district of Los Angeles is technically its own city? I couldn’t believe the size of LA when I first arrived. I swear there hadn’t been a single other gay person in my own hometown, and so I’d decided to relocate somewhere where I could finally meet someone. I wouldn’t describe myself as a hopeless romantic, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about the idea of finally dating, and maybe falling in love along the way.
Before I found someone to settle down with, though, I wanted to get a little experience. I’d never hooked up with anyone before, and I wanted to be sure I knew my way around a body that wasn’t my own. So, like every other gay man in the city: I signed up for the apps. I kept my bio pretty vague, but I used a cute pic that my best friend from back home had taken of me on a beach trip. It was only a couple of hours before I matched with someone: he was older than me, maybe in his late 30s. Handsome, and built - you could tell from his shirtless profile pic that he was proud of the way he’d developed his body. After a single “hey” message, he asked if I was able to come over tonight. I was a little taken aback by the brevity, but I accepted - I knew that quick meetups were a part of the app culture.
I arrived at his building, and he buzzed me up to his floor. He opened his door for me, only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tasteful chain around his neck. I greeted him with a smile, though I think he turned and walked back into his apartment too quickly to even notice. I took this as an invitation and followed him in, kicking my shoes off at the entrance as his front door closed behind us.
I followed him down a short hallway into his living room. I glanced around at his setup: a black leather couch, set up in front of a large television, where a video game had been left on the pause screen. Next to the couch, almost haphazardly placed, was a more unusual piece of furniture: a stout four-legged stool, standing barely a foot high, but with the seat replaced with a toilet seat. Without looking at me, my host pointed down at the carpet.
“Lay down.”
I hesitated - I still had some questions about the furniture - but, before I could ask any follow-up questions, I watched him put his gaming headset back on, blocking out anything I might have to say. With seemingly few options left, I did as I was told, and laid down on his floor. Still not looking at me, the man grabbed the toilet seat chair from the other side of the room and placed it over me, the four legs surrounding my head. Through the hole in the seat, I saw him remove his shorts, pick his game controller back up, and walk towards me. My view of my surroundings was suddenly cut off, as my sight darkened. My “date” had sat down on the toilet seat, which had spread his cheeks apart and clumsily pressed his wrinkled hole against the tip of my nose. Everything had transpired so quickly, and I felt a bit foolish - this is not what I had been expecting from tonight. I lay motionless for a moment, processing how I’d ended up here. What had I been expecting from tonight? Roses and flowers? A beautiful romance story? Surely, I’d known better than that. But…I’d just thought that maybe I’d get to kiss a man for the first time tonight. Maybe I’d get to experience at least some element of young love, even if just for a moment.
I shuffled slightly, angling my head back a bit to get my nose out of this stranger’s asshole. But the weight of his body pressed him down into me, and instead of my nose, my lips now brushed against him. In the midst of my embarrassment and panic, I felt my body flush. My cock began to thicken.
You know, perhaps I will kiss a man tonight after all, I decided.
I paused, then pressed my lips against the opening waiting above me. His hole twitched in response, tightening slightly. I kissed him again, and then again. His hole flexed in and out, almost kissing back. I opened my mouth a bit and gently sucked on him, which elicited a quiet moan out of the man above me. Encouraged, I continued kissing and sucking, pressing my face harder into him.
“Lick.”
The silence in the room was abruptly interrupted by new instructions. He had sagged so close to my face that I barely had to push my tongue out of my mouth before it made contact. To my surprise, his hole didn’t taste like much. I ran my tongue around the outer edges of his wrinkled ring for a while, before flicking it back and forth over his opening. Any outside experiences I’d had beyond being smothered by this man’s ass were beginning to fade away: my cock was firm in my pants, and all I could focus on was the idea of devouring this hole further. I tried to hold my tongue as firm as my cock was as I wriggled it deeper. I kept plunging my tongue in and out, encouraging the man above me to relax into my mouth as I explored him further. Eventually, I pushed my tongue so deep that I encountered a new taste. It didn’t taste distinctly bad, but I knew what had happened: I had just reached further than this man’s toilet paper had. And, despite my better judgement, I did not stop. All I knew was that I wanted more. As I heard more moans from above me, I rubbed myself over my pants and continued plunging my tongue inside of him until the unusual taste faded away.
As my dick flexed against the restraints of my clothing, I wondered if my host would find it inappropriate for me to pleasure myself while laying here on his floor. But, before I could finish the thought, light suddenly flooded my vision - the man had stood, and was now standing above me, looking down at me through the toilet seat, furiously stroking his own cock. As I recognized his own masturbation and began fumbling at my own pants, I felt a wet warmth spray across my face. I blinked and squinted until his cum was safely out of my eyes, and looked back up at him. He slowly bent down over me, reaching through the seat toward me. I offered myself to his hand, expecting a post-coital caress. Instead, I was met by only a few fingers, which pushed his remaining drops across my face and neck into my open mouth. I swallowed instinctively, and sucked on the tips of the fingers that had fed me. The man stood up once more, and turned away to retrieve his shorts.
“You can show yourself out.”
Confused, I continued laying there for a moment. Were…were we already done? I clumsily pushed myself out from under the seat, and sat up to look at the man. He was seated on the couch, headphones still on, back to playing his game. Any acknowledgement of my existence had ended.
I got up, retrieved my shoes, and left as quickly as I could. I felt deeply humiliated - I took the stairs down to the street, as I couldn’t bear to even wait for the elevator. I had come here expecting my first intimate experience, and instead all I did was lick the shithole of a stranger clean before gulping down his sperm. He had barely spoken two full sentences to me the entire time. I was so embarrassed to have expected more from this experience, and I was ashamed to be experiencing shame.
But: I was still hard.
And I still wanted more.
