A group of friends and I attended the opening evening of a new gay club in town.
I attracted none of the usual guys, and many older married types approached me.
Discovering potential cum splatter over my black shirt and jeans, as if I enjoyed a bukkake clothed, I tried cleaning with tissue paper. An older guy winked as he watched me rinse cum.
Bukkake is an orgy of men that cum on a submissive guy.
Whatever stained my clothing never washed with tissue, and I left the club to change at home.
At my apartment, I dressed in the most masculine, virile clothing I possessed. The tightest, brightest gym shirt in my wardrobe, showing off my chest, and a pair of easy-fuck jeans. I funked my hairstyle, looking as different as possible, and completed the look with athletic shoes.
Returning to the club with something to prove, I swept the room and chose my mate. I walked up to the hottest guy — the kind so hot one waits for them to make the first move. Him eighteen, dressed in athletic gear and oozing masculine top energy.
My ego needing validation from earlier, and nothing beat making a top boy, my bitch.
I made small-talk with him and complimented his clothing and glorious body.
A professional athlete, I never knew of him back then, but he is famous, and for his privacy, I will call him XL. The thought of dipping my cock in someone as masculine as XL aroused me.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“They booked me into the presidential suite in a five-star hotel in town.”
“That’s a pleasant hotel. The food is excellent. I’ve never seen the presidential suite, though.”
I froze when he asked, “Are you top or bottom?” Not wanting my reply to ruin my chances with him.
“What’s the difference? What are you?” He sipped his beer. “Are they sports metaphors?”
He grinned. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel with me?”
“Are you the giver or the taker?” I asked.
He smirked, “Now you’re talking my language.”
I grinned, hiding my confusion.
XL’s two hundred word monolog of how ‘gay guys are sluts and only think with their cocks’ and ‘fuck anything’ bored me. He injected he was not gay but enjoyed playing with guys that were ‘not sluts.’
I heard this speech many times from guys wanting bareback, testing their top is clean.
“Nothing goes up my ass,” I said and sealed the deal.
A driver drove us in a seven-series BMW back to his luxurious hotel, which impressed — XL’s room more significant than my apartment.
He ordered Dom Pérignon. I would not say I loved the flavor and sipped.
We enjoyed a magical shower together, less of a wash, and more of twenty minutes of kissing and touching in the rain.
XL stood six feet, with a heavily muscled frame and a youthful face. I will not describe any more of him honoring his privacy.
His enormous thick, soft cut cock hung seven-and-a-half-inches long. His dick, browner than his tanned body, sported a full bush of untrimmed pubes, and his chest and legs shaved smooth.
In the bedroom, XL pulled me towards him as he threw himself onto the mattress. On top of him, I raised his legs with my arms and kissed him. His ass, tanned, smooth, and muscled with a virginal fresh hole.
I twirled my tongue around his rosebud and then melted into his delicate ass.
My cock stood at full attention, and my excitement reached the level I experienced with Brad on our first-time. Brad, a real man, dwarfed XL, a thousand times more manly.
I pumped saliva into his ass with my mouth and wet my foreskin. While kissing him, I positioned my wet cock against his hole, and he pulled me toward him with my shaft inching into his ass. His hole opened like a flowering rosebud as he kissed me passionately.
His ass delicately soft inside, my foreskin opened, and his softness brushed against my cock head.
I fucked the wet two-inches of his ass in quick motions and, as I came inside him, continued fucking and inched deeper into him. I threw my weight on him, and my cock slid, balls-deep, into his ass. While holding my boner still inside him, we kissed. I moved only my hips and fucked in slow, long strokes. His ass perfect, soft, and wet, and I loved the wetness.
“My ass feels wet,” XL said.
“It feels great. You must have made me precum.”
He gazed with lust into his eyes, and his loving smile elevated me to a new height of arousal.
I enjoyed his ass and wanted him wetter. I pulled out and thrust into him.
Pushing his legs back further, so my cock dropped straight into his ass, I thrust deep in his hole and moved my dick around in him, enjoying every inch of the walls of his ass.
I pumped into him and wanted my cum deep inside, and grunted as I shot deep. The thought of my cum running up his ass made me shoot again, and I continued thrusting. His ass soaked in cum and bubbled from his hole, and I continued pumping my drenched cock.
“Bend over the side of the bed. I wanna feel you doggy style,” I said.
My cum oozed from his ass as he relaxed his sphincter.
I placed my feet on the bed and hunched, fucking him parallel with the floor. My cock head enjoyed the soft roof of his ass, and I shot in him. I continued fucking my cum into his hole, and every stroke echoed his wetness.
Wanting to finish, I fucked him hard. I came two more times, and he farted on the second orgasm, and I continued fucking.
I enjoyed his wetness for another minute and pushed him onto his stomach with my cock buried in him. Kissing his neck, I gripped his wrists and thrust my dick into his ass, which popped with wetness.
My cock layered in thick pasty cum as if dipped in egg white batter. XL farted twice, and my cum dripped from his ass.
“Did you cum?” He asked.
“It was nice. I’m not sure.”
“Make me cum.”
XL slipped his fat, hard nine-inch cock in my mouth. I twirled my tongue around his fat head and gently massaged his shaft as he fucked with his head back and eyes closed.
He gripped my head with his hands and said, “Take it.”
My mouth flooded with his sweet cum, and I swallowed between breaths and cleaned his cock with my mouth.
He pulled me towards him and kissed me, tasting his cum on my lips.
“I enjoyed that,” XL said. “That was my first time.”
“I’m honored you chose me.”
He kissed passionately and pulled me onto the bed. He told me he liked me, and we spoke of his sports career and agreed on discretion.
XL flew me to his country four times. Our time together unforgettable, but I understood his plight. I loved his tenderness with me, which contradicts his rough public persona.
We met the last time before he married his first wife.
Glad he never asked to fuck me though I may have let him; I liked him that much.
I follow his celebrity profile on Facebook but never reached out to him. Unsure what I might do, were he to contact me. He has aged well, looks good, and is still desirable.
