My name is Kevin, though that wasn't my birth name. I'm English. At this moment I'm 19. I'm 5'11", quite skinny with blue eyes and a big dick, just under 8". My father left when I was a toddler and my Mum couldn't cope, as I already had two older siblings from different Dads. I was put into care. My childhood was spent going from one foster parent to another, none of whom were very loving. I had countless schools and no real friends. I would spend a lot of time in my room by myself, becoming very introverted. I found masturbation at an early age and learned to take pleasure from loving myself, several time a day. I dropped out of education at a young age.
I grew up feeling like I was a useless piece of shit, crying out for someone to love me. I knew I was gay from childhood. All my fantasies were of gay sex. I had no feelings for women at all.
The change came when I landed a job, albeit part time, working in a pub, I had money and was no longer relying on State hand-outs. I found a crummy bedsit, but at least I had my own space. The landlord, Gary, seemed to take a special interest in me, giving me more hours whenever he could. Some nights, when we finished late, he let me stay over in a room above the pub. I had meals on the job and managed to put on a bit of weight. He had a wife, but she lived in the family home in the next town.
I'd been working in the pub for about six weeks. We'd had a particularly busy Saturday. After work, he invited me to his room for a drink. I don't like scotch, but enjoyed relaxing in his company. Gary was in his early 30s, and I thought quite handsome. He always wore figure hugging trousers. We watched some late night shit on TV, and he plied me with more drink. After half an hour, the alcohol took effect, and I found myself embracing him. My head swirled as we snogged. Soon, we were naked on the floor, our cocks grinding together. We rolled around, play fighting, until he pinned me down. Looking into my eyes, he said "You're gorgeous, you do something to me as soon as you walk in the room". He slid down my body, kissing my nipples and sending a shudder down my spine. Cradling my balls, he licked my shaft, making it leak. He bent me over, almost double, and rimmed me. I begged him to fuck me. Spitting on his pole, he positioned himself above me and slid in. He put a hand either side of my head, and we kissed again before he began to thrust. Precum dripped in strings into my mouth as he shafted me slowly. It was the first time anyone had truly made love to me. The tempo and depth increased, and I took myself in hand. His face began to contort, my hand went faster, and 7 or 8 jets hit me in the face as he bred me. We slept together. Next morning, I used the bathroom and showered, then crawled in beside him, kissing him on the back of the neck to wake him. He excused himself, coming back 10 minutes later smelling fresh. I knew every part of his beautiful body, especially his bubble butt. We made gentle, passionate love for an hour, with me topping him, a first for me. After, he said "Kevin, I think I'm falling in love with you". I smiled and said "What about your wife?" He replied, "What we did last night and this morning is in a different league to having sex with her". I reminded him that a relationship isn't just about sex, and we left it there. Shortly after, I gave up my crummy bedsit, and moved into the pub permanently. My position became full-time. Living on the job, I had money in my pocket and could buy nice clothes. I cleared out all my charity shop stuff and made a decent wardrobe. My confidence rocketed from the depths that it used to be. I'd like a boyfriend, but for now, shagging the boss wasn't a bad option.
