A couple, Celia, eighteen and straight, and Donovan, twenty-six, and bisexual, lived in my apartment block. We hung out, drinking, and he smoked weed. Donovan’s feminine voice, skinny frame, and gaunt face, with crystal meth teeth, disgusted me. Wasting to his size requires many years of severe drug misuse.
I met eighteen-year-old gay Sean one evening when visiting. He fancied me, and his eyes opened wide, with a caricature grin whenever he stared at me. A slim redhead with freckles; and a professional dancer, he sported a ripped torso. I never lusted for red-haired men before Sean.
He recounted a threesome between him and the couple, emphasizing his versatility with Donovan.
When heading home, Sean asked, “May I join you? I’ll bring my brandy, and we can chill.”
“Sure, why not? It’s still early.” I replied.
Back at my apartment, he discovered my porn collection and skimmed through the bisexual cassettes. Holding a box cover, he asked, “Can I play one? This dude’s hot and got a nice big dick.”
“Sure, no problem.”
The volume blared, and hardcore moans swept through the apartment. I snatched the remote and muted the television.
The porno played with the guy’s fucking doggy style, and Sean said, “I love that position.”
“Do you prefer giving or receiving?”
“I like both,” and produced a creepy grin.
I wanted to fuck ass, any ass, and doggy style enhanced the view.
“Do you mind if I jerk off?” Sean asked.
“Nah, go ahead.”
He stripped and rested on the sofa. His cut, nine-inch, gigantic dick sported a fleshy pink head, blended with his shaft’s tone, and his pubes and ball sack shaved smooth. If Brad wrapped his hand around Sean’s cock, two-inches separated his thumb and forefinger.
“Do you want brandy?” I asked.
“Yes, please.”
I mixed a double with cola for him and poured a single for myself.
I removed my jeans and boxers, and my stroking drew Sean’s attention.
“You have a great cock. I’d love to ride it,” and produced another creepy grin.
“We can move to the bedroom, and you try,” I smirked.
Resting on my back on the bed, Sean asked, “Do you have any lube?”
“There’s cream in the bathroom by the basin.”
When he returned, he squeezed a fat glob of lotion onto his palm and caressed my shaft. His hand brushed against my bare cock head, generating a sharp sensation.
I recognized he planned not using a rubber, which made me nervous — he slept with Donovan. I rolled a condom on my shaft.
“We don’t need a condom. I’ve been tested,” Sean said.
“I want to wear one.”
“But I’ve been tested. I’m all clean.”
“I said I want to wear one.”
He massaged a fresh blob of cream into the condom and mounted my pole while holding the shaft. My knob eased into his ass, and the mechanical bull rode my cock while jerking the base of my rod. He lifted himself, and I popped out of his hole. He fell back on my dick, creating a sharp sensation on my head.
Bouncing, with each stride, my knob glided out his ass and burst in deep. He massaged the cream into my shaft, and his palm brushed my bare head.
As he tried climbing on my dick, I rolled over on the bed.
“I wanna wear a condom,” I said.
Sean turned me on my back and shoved my arms above my shoulders. He climbed on me, worked his hole by my head, and plunged onto my cock. He whirled his ass around my shaft, and my bare boner brushed against his insides.
“I’m clean. You don’t have to worry. Doesn’t this feel better?”
Sean danced on my cock, building an incredible sensation on my head.
I never trusted him. I shoved him off me, “I want to use a condom.”
After I rolled another condom on my shaft, he plunged back on my dick. My cock head remained sensitive, and he continued riding my pole.
“I’m gonna make you cum,” Sean said and danced harder.
As I blew in his ass, I gripped his waist and thrust my cock deep into him. I reached for the condom, which disappeared. In frustration, I forced my prick into him and fucked fast, and shot again inside him.
“Lie on your back,” I said and lifted his legs. I flung my weight into him and pushed my cock deep inside him. I drove in and eased out and repeated several times until I exploded in his ass.
As I pulled out, I delighted over his gaping hole. As his ass muscles contracted, he ejected my cum, and a puddle soaked into the bedcover.
I filled the basin with lukewarm water, washed my cock and balls with body wash, and I rinsed off in the shower.
I received pleasure from abusing Sean’s ass but never fancied him, even though I pounded him doggy style four more times that evening.
After the last fuck, I lubed five fingers and pushed them into his ass, knuckles deep. I wriggled my wrist inside him and spread open my claws. His hole gaped four-inches wide, and the visual excited me.
I used Sean as a pleasure toy and enjoyed rough sex with him. He never objected and loved every minute.
I screwed him for a few months and never allowed him to fuck me. He begged and begged, but I refused. My lust for redheads grew with the enjoyment he provided me.
I met him less and less but fucked him several times over the next decade. Our last time happened after my second divorce.
Whenever Janet Jackson’s song, _All For You_, plays, I remember him. He rode my cock to the beat several years later. ‘Got a nice package all right, guess I’m gonna have to ride it tonight.’
He was fun, the life of the party, and shagged everyone. I informed my buddies, and many topped him, and he enjoyed several bottoms too. I promise to share more adventures with Sean between twenty-seven and thirty-three.
Married, Sean is unhappy, living on an island thousands of miles from the nearest city. His Facebook feed is uninteresting, and he has made nothing of his life. We chatted a year ago on Messenger, and he confessed his boredom and felt isolated on an island.
His face has barely aged since eighteen. I doubt I might ever meet him face-to-face again.
