What I Discovered the First Time with a Man

My name is Marcos and today I’m forty-two years old. I live in a city in the north, I’m married, and I’ve never told anyone this. It’s the first time I’ve dared to write it down, and I’m doing it exactly as I remember it, without embellishment. What I’m going to tell is my first time with a man, and it’s completely real.

It all happened when I was nineteen. Back then I was a good-looking guy: I was five foot ten, slim, not athletic, with light eyes and a mischievous boyish face that had gotten me into more than one mess with pretty girls from school. I had success, or at least that’s what I thought, and no one around me would have imagined what was going through my head when I was alone.

At that time there wasn’t internet in every house yet. To connect, you went to an internet café, one of those places full of computers where you paid by the hour. I had one right below my building, and I went down there day after day, using any excuse to look something up.

At first I went into chat rooms to see if I could pick up some girl. But that was almost impossible, so one day, half out of curiosity and half out of boredom, I went into a gay room. And there everything changed. A nick like chico_joven19 would get dozens of private messages in a matter of minutes.

That made me nervous and turned me on in equal measure. I went back the next day, and the day after that. Like almost everyone, I never got past that. I was afraid someone might recognize me, afraid of what might happen. But inside I was getting hotter and hotter, until I reached the point where all I could think about was meeting a real man.

One afternoon someone wrote to me with the nick Versátil_41. The first thing he asked was whether I was active or passive. I told him the truth: that I had no idea, that I had never done anything, that I was both embarrassed and afraid.

—Relax —he wrote—. We all start sometime. Do you want to try it or do you just want to talk?

We kept chatting for a good while. He put me at ease and, instead of backing out, I started feeling more comfortable and more certain.

—Look —he said at the end—, I’m alone in an apartment I share with my sister. I’m from another city and I only come here during the week for work. If you feel like it, come over and we’ll see how it goes. But I want you to know something: with young guys, I’m active.

I, who hadn’t touched anyone, didn’t even fully understand what that implied. I only knew that I wanted to be naked with a man. I told him yes, but that I needed to shower first.

—Don’t worry about that —he answered—. You can shower here.

He gave me the address and I went there, trembling, scared, and dying of curiosity at the same time.

***

When I got to his building, I buzzed the first floor and went up the stairs. He was waiting for me with the door ajar and the apartment dark. I went in quietly and he led me straight to his bedroom.

It wasn’t what I had imagined. I found a man in pajamas, bald, with glasses, a little shorter than me and with a belly. In my head I had built someone completely different, and yet that —instead of putting me off— made me even more turned on. I can’t explain it. Something about his ordinary appearance, about how little he resembled what I was outside that room, turned me on in a way I didn’t understand.

—You’re very handsome —he said softly—. Do you mind if we kiss?

With the heat I was carrying, I would have said yes to anything.

Being at the mercy of such a normal, almost ugly guy, who shoved his tongue all the way into my mouth, made me discover a side of myself I didn’t know existed. I let myself go like I had never let myself go with anyone before.

After a while of eating each other’s mouths and his hands roaming under my clothes, he pulled back.

—I’m going to give you a shower —he said—. I want you nice and clean.

He took me to the bathroom and asked me to finish undressing. I asked if he was going to get in with me and he said no. So I got undressed by myself, stepped into the tub, and turned on the water. From outside, still wearing his pajamas, he started soaping me up slowly.

I shivered every time he took the opportunity to pinch my nipples or grab my cock, which had been hard since the moment I crossed his bedroom door. At one point, his hand went down to my ass and started playing with my entrance.

—Relax —he whispered—. Don’t rush.

He slid in one finger and I felt a jolt all the way down my back. When he put in the second, I was no longer resisting.

—Do you like it? —he asked.

—A lot —I said, almost voiceless.

—I think you’re the kind of boy who enjoys obeying.

That sentence went straight through me. That mix of shame and desire, of feeling small in front of him, awakened something in me that still marks me to this day. That passive, submissive side that fascinates me so much was born exactly there, in that bathtub.

***

He gave me a towel to dry off and sent me back to the bedroom.

—Come on —he said—. You’re begging for it.

I sat on the edge of the bed. He took off the top of his pajamas and I saw that belly again, which for some reason turned me on so much. I, who had been with the prettiest girls in my school, was now sitting there naked in front of a man twenty years older than me, unshaven, bald, and overweight. I felt dirty. And at the same time, hornier than I had ever been.

—Pull my pants down —he ordered.

I pulled down only the pajama pants. Underneath he was wearing classic briefs, the kind that clearly hadn’t just been put on. That man had probably spent hours in front of the computer, stroking himself while he waited for someone to bite.

—Come on —he said—. Kiss it through the fabric. Slowly.

I obeyed. The bulge wasn’t especially big, but I still threw myself into licking and kissing over the cotton. It had a salty taste and a strong, intense smell that, instead of putting me off, pushed me to keep going.

—Now kneel down —he said, changing his tone—. You’re going to taste your first cock.

I knelt on the floor, cold beneath my knees, and pulled down his briefs. There it was in front of me: smaller than mine, but thicker, with the foreskin still covering the head.

—Lick it —he said—. I want you to know what a man tastes like.

On my knees, more turned on than disgusted, I stuck out my tongue and started cleaning it while holding it with my hand. That taste of sweat, of man, of hours without showering, made me feel like the most surrendered person in the world. There I was, licking the cock of a stranger, with no one forcing me, because it was exactly what I wanted to do.

—Put your hands behind your back —he said—. Now I’m going to fuck your mouth a little.

At first he complained a couple of times about my teeth, but I learned. Since it wasn’t too big, I managed to relax my throat and purse my lips while he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed to get it in as deep as he could. I let him do it, my eyes closed, feeling myself lose control of the situation little by little. And I loved it.

After a while like that, he stopped.

—Do you want me to fuck that ass of yours —he asked— or would you rather have me finish in your mouth?

—I don’t know —I said, nervous but hotter than ever—. We can try.

***

He asked me to lie face down on the bed and asked me about a condom. I didn’t have one with me.

—And then what do we do? —he said—. I can assure you I’m completely clean.

—I don’t know —I answered, uncertain—. Whatever you want.

—Relax. First a massage, so you loosen up.

It was no massage at all. He lay down on top of me and started rubbing himself against my back while he bit my neck and ear and whispered that I was his, that he was dying to fuck me. Feeling all his weight on top of me, that belly pressed against my back, left me with no strength to argue about anything.

After a while he got up and went to the bathroom for some cream. When he came back, there was no doubt in his voice anymore.

—I’m going to take your virginity now —he said.

—Slowly, please —I asked—. And don’t come inside me.

—I swear it.

He smeared on cream and slid in two fingers, then three, moving them slowly for a couple of minutes. Then he lay back down on top of me. I felt the weight again, the belly, his breath on the back of my neck, and how he lined the tip up against my entrance.

—Relax —he kept repeating in a very low voice—. You’re going to like it.

The truth is it was easier than I had feared. A little pressure, a sting from the thickness, and suddenly he was all the way inside me. I felt his balls pressed against me. He stayed still for a few seconds, letting me breathe, and then he started moving.

He fucked me slowly, unhurried, while licking my ear and speaking into it with a tone that made me feel even more surrendered. I had remained completely still until that moment.

—Move —he said—. Enjoy it.

I started circling my hips, trying to make him go all the way in and then pull back out, while he grabbed my cock with one hand. For a moment I stopped thinking about fear, about condoms, about who I was outside that room. There was only the rhythm, his accelerated breathing, and the bed creaking beneath us both.

Suddenly I felt him tense, and before I could react, he came inside me. He didn’t have time to pull out. Under him, I got terribly scared; my head had room for nothing but the fear of catching anything.

—Sorry —he said right away—. I couldn’t hold it. I swear I don’t have anything, I’m clean.

The arousal dropped away from me all at once. He offered to finish me off, offered me the shower, offered for me to stay a while. But I only wanted to leave. I told him no, that I preferred to go, and I got dressed in a hurry.

***

I walked to the bus stop with my ass full, feeling my underwear get wet and then my pants too. It was a strange sensation: part of me was still turned on by what had just happened and another part was dying of remorse.

When I got home, I locked myself in my room, took off my pants and briefs, and checked that both were wet. I touched myself and a little more was still coming out. I gave myself a quick handjob thinking about everything I had done, came brutally, and got into the shower as if I wanted to wash it all away.

For the following months I had a hard time. Stress, guilt, the feeling of having crossed a line with no way back. But over the years that changed shape in my memory.

Today, so many years later, I still remember that afternoon and it still turns me on. Recognizing how submissive and surrendered I was that first time, letting myself be led by a stranger without even imagining what I was going to discover about myself. I came out of that apartment used, dirty, scared. And yet I’ve never felt anything like it again. It’s completely real. I hope you liked it.