Dad's Friend takes my Virginity

"You're mother's going over to Auntie Emma's house tonight, and I'm having a few friends over to watch the game and have a few beers. You can watch with us if you'd like, it would be fun?" My dad was a good father, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes that his marriage was breaking down, almost an acceptance and defeat.

"OK Dad, we'll see." We both knew I wouldn't be joining them. It was a good idea to let my Dad get things off his chest with his buddies. Besides,  I wasn't that into sport anyway, books and computers were much more my go to area for entertainment and relaxation. I wasn't quite the stereotypical nerd, but you could definitely draw some comparisons, to say the least...pale skinned, quite skinny, boyish face, shy. Then there was the thing about the girlfriends, or the lack of them. At this point in my life I was still convincing myself I was straight, the excuses for the obvious lack of girl interaction were becoming more elaborate. Firstly it was just because I was shy, lacking confidence, then it was because I was too busy with other activities. In the end, my mother was even suggesting the use of a psychologist to help with my 'nerves' when talking with members of the opposite sex to myself. There were rumours I was maybe 'batting for the other team', but the official line was that I was straight and shy, so much so that I even believed it myself. Moreover, I never actually had any experience with men or women at that point, so it would probably be more accurate to describe me as 'non-sexual' at that point in time. It would not stay that way for much longer...

The night went very predictably, I stayed in my room with a book and some popcorn,  my mind wondering off into some fantasy world , only being interrupted by the occasional shouting when one team or the other scored, or the laughing and beer-clanging off my Dad and his friends. Shortly after 1 in the morning, my Dad knocked at my bedroom door, opening it slightly, "We're all finished now, everyone has gone home, night son." He looked pretty worse for wear so they must have had quite a few beers. I finished the page of the book, and wondered if I should go downstairs to get some orange juice. I was already in bed, just in my boxers, and I couldn't be bothered getting dressed. 'Screw it', I though, nobody is here anyway, so I went downstairs, got myself an orange juice, and was just sat on the sofa watching the news on the TV quietly. There were beer bottles scattered everywhere so it looked like my Dad and his pals had quite the party. The night was very quiet, with a full-moon, nothing could be heard beyond the low moan of the TV presenter, and the occasional snoring from my clearly intoxicated Dad.

Suddenly the door flung open. An imposing figure authoritatively stepped forward and bounded into the living room. "Sorry mate, forgot my keys", said the unidentifiable man, "Let me just put this light on so I can see". Flick, he turned the lights and there I was in my tight, white boxer shorts. "Fuck boy, you just sit here in the dark jerkin' the gherkin or something? Haha, I won't say anything mate, don't worry, you can trust me". It was my Dad's mate, Turner.

I wished the world would just swallow me up. My facial skin colour had now transformed from it's usual pale white to a bright, glowing, even somewhat pulsating, red. How embarrassing. It's just my luck, I thought, and now my gross embarrassment was mixing with my usual shyness, and I wasn't even able to say anything in my own defense. "You been masturbating to that news presenter? Haha, we all knew you were a faggot."

"I'm not gay, just shy", I blurted as an automatic response you could tell had been used before.

"Yeah alright mate, call it what you want. You look pretty small mate, how tall are you anyway."

"5 foot 7 or 8 I think."

"You look smaller than that. Stand up, stand next to me."

This was getting weirder. There I was, in my tighty whities, standing in front of a grown man, because he didn't think I was 5 ft 7. Strange. " It's because you've got no hair on your body mate, distorts the height thing." What. Just, what. I've don't have a hairy body so it makes me look smaller? He's definitely had a similar number of beers to my father.  He began prodding my body with his hands, almost kneeding, exploring my shoulders and neck, each hand massaging my much smaller frame. He stopped, walking over tot the fridge and got himself a beer, as if he needed another, whilst I slumped back into my seat, still in just my boxers. "You're safe with me mate, I'm don't mind gays, quite like them actually, more girls for me, huh?!" He visibly chuckled, gulping his beer. "You know what I read the other day, that young gay boys really fancy older men, like that news reporter. Maybe it's the power, or the experience, who knows. I bet you want to suck my cock right now."

"Yeah, I'm still not gay."

"You shouldn't lie boy, you know what will help you to stop telling lies?

"No idea." I retorted, clueless as to where this drunken chat was going.

"You can't tell any more lies with your mouth full of my cock". We both laughed to be honest, it was funny and unexpected in the moment. Turner started walking, semi-stumbling, over to where I was sitting, standing to the right of my seat.  "I wonder how close I can get to you before your instincts kick in and you start sucking me off?"


"Haha, fuck off mate." I gave him a playful push, both of us smiling.

"I'm serious, I bet you love wrapping your silky lips around men's hard, throbbing cocks. Do you let one slide in and out your ass why you suck the other one off? Fuck I bet you do, I bet you moan like a whore." He was still playing around, but getting closer and closer to me, worryingly my head was at waist level.  Still laughing it off, I tried to push him back a little, "I've told you, I'm not gay, and I've never done anything with other guys."

"So how do you know, if you've never tried it, huh? I know you are gay, if I could put my house on it, I would. I tell you what, I'll let you suck me off, then you can see if you like it or not."

"Haha, yeah, I'm deffo not sucking you off."

"Fine, just stroke me then, c'mon, don't be a bitch". Turner was now grabbing my head, playfully rubbing it into the crotch area of his jeans. To be honest, he was pretty good looking. He was like 6 foot, quite well built, but with some middle-age fat too. He wore Jeans and a shirt, with a leather jacket over the top. Even those clothing items couldn't cover the fact he was very, very hairy. I think his dad was like Turkish or something, so he kind of had an Arab type look. He had big hands, as big as shovels, and muscly arms, a strong jaw-line with a bushy mustache. "Look, give me your hand boy." I did as I was told, not expecting what followed. Next thing, Turner had somehow maneuvered my hand in between his belt and waist, down his jeans and into his boxers, where he held my arm to prevent me removing my hand. "Just try it, you might like it."

At this point, I had no option. To get out of this embarrassing and awkward moment, I would just hold his cock and that would be the end of it. I gulped, then moved my hand to his cock.

Fuck. It was huge, and probably not even fully hard. "Now you know what a real man's cock feels like, haha." My hand naturally explored the full length of him, the veins and girth really impressive, right up until his rounded head. I slowly began to move my hand up and down his cock, exploring every inch, even reaching and massaging his hairy balls, which were full and hung low. As I kept exploring his pelvic regions, Turner had began to remove his belt, lowering his jeans and kicking them off. Now it was just me, with my hand in his boxers, stroking him. In one motion, he lowered his boxers, kicking them to one side along with his jeans. This is the first time I've seen another man's cock, hard, and in the flesh. It was transfixing for me, my eyes lighting up. A large, hard and proud cock standing to attention. Turner had a thick amount of public hair at the base of his cock, black and curly. I could know see his legs, naked as he was below the belt, which of course was now off too. His legs were muscular and toned, with course black hair hanging from every inch. I continued to stroke him, as he was getting harder and harder. I looked up to his face, and his smile beamed back at me. He took his hand, and cupped my head, just looking at me. Next, he ran his finger along my lips, putting some slight pressure and entering my mouth. I started, instinctively I guess, to lick his finger, then to suck on it, never losing eye contact. I was getting so turned on, and the party in my own pants was certainly getting bigger.

"Should I let you suck my cock, as a favour?" He whispered into my ear. I nodded, looking into his eyes. He withdrew his finger from my mouth, taking a step forward and pointing his cock with one hand, with the other hand guiding the back of my neck, onto his cock. At first, it was salty, with all the precum, but then you could taste and smell Turner's manliness, the sweat and general manly smell was pouring out of him. I tried to fit him into my mouth as much as possible, but he was too big. I withdrew, then after a couple of breath, started sucking his head, teasing him with swirling motions of my tongue. He seemed to enjoy it, as he groaned quietly and closed his eyes. Bobbing back and forth, I started to take more and more of him into my mouth. Clearly, this wasn't enough. Turner used his big hand's, grabbing the back of my neck and forcing his entire cock down my throat. I gagged, but his grip never faltered, keeping me there even as I tried to pull back, his cock deep in my throat and my nose in his pubes. After a couple of seconds, which felt like hours, I felt Turner empty his load into my neck.

Turner withdrew, put on his boxers, pulled on his jeans and disappeared as quickly as he came.