The Afternoon I Let Him Fuck Me for the First Time

I’m on my way to Marco’s place. It’s been more than a week since I last saw him, since that night when he tried to force things without warning. Following Karim’s advice, I hadn’t spoken to him until he took the first step and apologized by message for his behavior. My first impulse was to apologize too, but I held firm and just told him I wanted us to see each other.

I’m a bundle of nerves. He still doesn’t know it, but today is the day I’m going to let him fuck me. That’s why I’ve dressed as provocatively as I could, in a pair of pants and a tank top Karim lent me, both items very tight and, if I may say so, they suit me beautifully. The underwear I brought from home: a jockstrap Marco himself gave me and I’d never dared to wear.

When I arrive, he greets me with a smile and a kiss. He’s attentive, almost soft, and it’s obvious he still feels guilty. We start talking about silly things, until the conversation heats up on its own.

“I’m really sorry about the other day, I acted like an asshole,” he tells me.

“You were,” I reply with a smile, “but I forgive you.”

We melt into a long hug and an even longer kiss. We stay cuddled up on the sofa for a while and open a bottle of wine to seal the reconciliation, which comes in handy for me to let out the tension I’m carrying.

“I have to say, you look really sexy today,” he murmurs, putting one hand on my thigh and the other on my waist. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in these clothes.”

Let’s turn up the heat a little, I think.

“It’s just that I’m also debuting underwear. Want to see it?”

He nods, of course. I stand up with my back to him and slowly lower my pants, showing him my ass framed by the straps of the jockstrap. The look on his face is priceless.

“What do you think? It was a gift from you,” I remind him.

“Fuck, I’ve got great taste, huh? And not just with clothes,” he says, and reaches out to get a proper feel.

“You know what? If you really want me to forgive you, eating it would help quite a lot.”

Marco goes for it without thinking. Me standing up, him seated on the edge of the sofa, parting me with his hands and working me with his tongue as if he’d been waiting days to do it. He does it so well that I almost lose the thread of my own plan, but today I want to use the little power I have before giving it all up. I pull his head away, order him to lie back, and finish taking off my pants.

I sit on his face, with the hole lined up right over his mouth. While I feel him licking me, I see the huge bulge outlined in his jeans—he’s still dressed from the waist down—and I lean forward to unfasten him and free his cock, hard as a rock. I suck him a few times, just enough to drive him wild, and then I stop right away. My goal is to get him as hot as possible and make him beg for it.

“Fuck, how am I supposed not to rape you if you leave me like this?” he protests, half joking, half serious, pulling his tongue out for a second from where he had it.

“Maybe today you don’t need to rape me,” I answer, getting off him and walking toward the bed.

***

Marco can’t believe what he’s just heard. He follows me hotter than a teenager. I reach the mattress, lean against the headboard, and spread my legs, putting everything on display, and he slips in between them.

“So, do you want us to fuck?” he asks, and as he says it he doesn’t look me in the eyes, but at the hole. Knowing how desired I am turns me on like crazy.

I nod. He grabs my ankles, pulls me toward him, and throws himself down to kiss me on the mouth. The kiss tastes like me, but it still sets me on fire. Then he makes me turn over and lie face down, and he makes me suck his fingers: the ones he’s going to use to prepare me.

When they go in, I’m more relaxed than other times, so it doesn’t hurt. More than that, as the pace picks up, what I feel is pure pleasure, and he notices.

“If you like my fingers, you’re going to lose your mind when I give you my cock,” he says, and positions himself over me, the tip pressed to my entrance. “Are you sure?”

He whispers it in my ear while covering my neck with kisses. Part of me would want to say no for a thousand reasons—fear, anger, wanting to leave him hard up—but I know perfectly well what I came here to do.

“Fuck me, please.”

At once I feel him starting to work his way inside me, slowly, carefully, giving me time to adjust to him. Even so, it hurts.

“Relax, you’ll see it gets better,” he tells me between kisses on the nape of my neck, while I nod with my face tight. “Should I stop?”

“Keep going, fuck.”

He keeps going until he’s all the way inside and starts moving, first gently, then harder. Harder and harder. At first he asks me how I’m doing, but there comes a point when he forgets everything and fucks me deep, without slowing down, not caring anymore if it hurts. He presses my face into the pillow, so I can’t even complain. I let myself go, torn between the pain and the pleasure of each thrust, until I feel him emptying himself inside me.

When he’s done, he comes out carefully. I turn around and we devour each other with kisses.

“So? Did you enjoy it?” he asks.

I nod. I’m sore and a little humiliated, but I also had a great time, and a strange happiness washes over me that I can’t quite explain.

“Do you want to come now?” he adds.

“No, I’d rather take a shower.”

“Go on,” he tells me without letting go of me, “but then come back to bed. Tonight I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

***

Two weeks later, I’m with Karim in the gym locker room, coming out of the showers after a brutal session. I trained in very tight clothes and tiny shorts. Karim did too, although he always dresses like that. I wouldn’t have dared until very recently, but every day I feel more confident dressing however the hell I want, and I admit I love the attention I get.

We’re almost alone; the few people left are still in the shower. While I’m drying off, Karim gives me one of those loud slaps on the ass.

“Damn, what an ass you’ve got, no wonder my guy can’t control himself,” he says, and we both laugh.

I’d felt guilty about Sergio eating my ass the other day and told him so, but Karim didn’t care in the least. In fact, he’d left us alone on purpose. “You need to realize how desirable you are,” he’d told me, and he was right: having a guy like Sergio at my feet was one of the things that gave me the most confidence.

Sergio got a proper dressing-down from him, because those two are all about drama and passionate reconciliations. They sealed it with a memorable fuck and with Sergio inviting him to a weekend in Lisbon as compensation for not being able to keep his dick still. But Karim wasn’t really angry. “As long as he doesn’t fuck someone else, I don’t care; I just need to make the limits clear,” he explained. And I, I confess, was turned on to know that the price for rubbing himself against me was a romantic trip.

“And speaking of your ass, how are Marco and you doing since you started? Is it going better?” Karim asks.

“Fuck, yes. Marco is super affectionate and attentive, and he’s no longer frustrated about not fucking me, of course, because he does nothing else. Between having him on ice for ages and me wanting to practice, I never tell him no. But this guy is a machine, he doesn’t think about anything else.”

“Ha, him and everyone else,” he laughs. “You know all they want. And you, how’s it going? Has it gotten better since the first time?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it still hurts, especially after several rounds in a row, but I enjoy it a lot. Today he’s coming by the house before heading off to Seville, since he has to go there for work every once in a while.”

At that moment two guys come into the locker room and walk over to greet Karim; apparently they know him. Both tall, both incredibly built, total hunks, like almost all of Karim’s friends. One is dark-haired with a beard; the other blond, with an Eastern European look. They’re about to start training now, so they’re dressed, unlike us, who are naked, although I’ve tied my towel around my waist to talk to them. Karim hasn’t.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” the blond one says after a bit of small talk.

“Sure, this is Dani. Dani, they’re Niko and Theo.”

We exchange cheek kisses, and I get the impression both of them aim for closer to the mouth than necessary.

“Dani’s going to be at Saturday’s party, by the way. It’ll be his first time,” Karim tells them.

It’s true: Saturday is Sergio’s birthday and he throws a huge party at his house with a pool every year. I’ve never been, but they’re legendary in the scene; all the hottest guys in the city show up there in the sexiest swimwear they own. I’m dying to go, and judging by the look on these two’s faces, they’re excited that I’ll be there too.

“Great, you’re going to have a blast,” Theo says. “Sergio’s parties are iconic, and the first one is always the best.”

He winks at me. Both of them look at me the way a guy looks at you when he wants to fuck you and has no interest in pretending otherwise. If we weren’t in a public place, I’d swear they’d already be trying it.

“Well, guys, we’ve got training to do. Have a good day,” Niko says, and they head off to their locker, though they still toss us a few sidelong glances.

And since these days I like to turn on whoever I can even more, I take the chance to turn my back to them. When I bend down to dry the lower part of my legs, I offer them my ass open in all its glory, and I take my time so they can enjoy it properly. They’ve got material for tonight now, I think.

“Ha ha, you should’ve seen their faces, they were drooling,” Karim tells me when we leave.

“Well, if that’s the only thing they’re getting from me, they might as well have a good view.”

We say goodbye and each head home. Like I said, I’ve got plans with Marco before he leaves.

When I open the door for him, he throws himself at me to kiss me and grab my ass without saying a word, first over my pants and then immediately slipping his hands inside. By the time I realize what’s happening, my feet are on his shoulders and his balls are bouncing against me, until I feel him filling me again.

“Fuck, what a fuck,” he says as he collapses on top of me, and those are practically the only words he says.

Shortly after, he tells me he has to run or he’ll miss the train to Seville. He leaves, and I stay lying there, with that contradictory feeling of having been used like a simple receptacle and, at the same time, of not wanting this to ever end.