6 comments/ 51577 views/ 1 favorites A New Year a New Me By: Sean Renaud Well everybody you'll have to forgive me. I normally write stories not accounts so this is a bit awkward for me but there doesn't seem to be another way to tell this story. I can't sit back tell this story like it happened so somebody else because it didn't. It happened to me and I can't sit back and tell this like it was some kind of story I made up about someone else. I guess I'll start off by telling you a bit about myself, since it always makes things a little easier to relate to. My name is Clive Blankenship and like most men born after about nineteen eighty I've always been a bit confused about how I'm supposed to behave. I mean I enjoy going to the occasional play, Wicked was immense and if you haven't seen it yet you should go there, right now. Stop reading this and go watch Wicked. I've been known to occasionally go to a concerts that don't involve rappers or rockers. I could bore you to death with why I like girls wearing A-line skirts instead of circles. I'm the guy who walks into a party and wonders what the fuck was going through that girls head when she put on those shoes. They hardly match her bra and panties. Most nights I got to get her out of those shoes and the bra and panties too but I shouldn't have noticed them in the first place. At least not according to modern culture. Obviously that's caused me a few problems over the years, I can barely hold a conversation for a few minutes without either faking every other word out of my mouth or being constantly called a fag. Even girls make fun of me for being girly. Then there is the other part. There is the part where I find some men attractive, not every man, just some. It's not like women where most reasonably attractive women turn me on. I don't like skinny chicks, and by skinny I mean the ones that could cut their hair short and pass for a sixth grade boy. I don't like fat chicks either, and by fat I mean the girls that it's hard to tell where their tits and hips are because their entire body is one big undefinable blob. I'm not talking about a girl with a little meat on her bones or even sorta thick. I mean I don't like fat chicks. I'm much pickier about the guys that I like. I'll give you a few examples though just so you can know the kind of guys that I find attractive. James Marsters has got to be just about the sexiest man that has ever walked the earth. He played Spike on Buffy and made Smallville watchable for all of a single season. Given a half a second I'd lick the sweat from his abs and any place else that alabaster Adonis would allow. Then there is Stuart Townsend, the guy who played Lestat in the nearly unwatchable Queen of the Damned movie. I swear to god they must not have read the book before they made the movie. They didn't even get Lestat's hair the right color. Between him and Alliyah though I managed to suffer through it. Yeah I have a thing for vamps. The last guy that really stands out to me Jensen Ackles, he was on the short lived Dark Angel and now he's on the show Supernatural. Shit he could probably even get a little rough and I wouldn't complain. Normally I'm more than smart enough to just shut the fuck up about that kind of thing. People might say that they are okay with homosexuals, which I'm quite certain I'm not, I'm very attracted to women., or bisexuals but what they really mean is that they don't mind anything that doesn't effect them directly. They would be fine with you being gay, but not with you pointing out that Jensen Ackles has an incredible ass. They wouldn't try to stop you from marrying the man of your dreams but they wouldn't be your best man either. At least that's been my general experience with the situation. The result is that I'm not even sure if I'm actually bi. I mean I know I've had, as my sister is fond of pointing out "man crushes" that have been obvious to anybody paying the least bit of attention to the situation. What I don't know, sorry what I didn't know is whether I would be able to actually go through with it if the opportunity ever presented itself. The problem was obviously two fold, first I had no way whatsoever to know which guys were going to be interested at a party and even if I had I'm kinda picky. I mean if I settled for some average guy, which to me might as well be a fat chick, the only thing I would prove is that I have standards and it turns out I already knew that so I didn't need to confirm that. So this is how it actually happened to me. Obviously all the names have been changed slightly to protect the innocent. The situation and looks are all similar enough that if you are one of my friends you'll be able to piece together who everybody is. Anyway I think it's time I described myself physically. I'm a little above average height at six foot even and I'm in pretty good shape, just a hair over two hundred pounds and most of it muscle but not nearly as defined as I would like to be. I'm African American and usually I keep my hair cut in a short fade, no side burns. I always keep my goatee and I go back and forth on whether or not I have a mustache. It really has more to do with if I'm feeling lazy or not than preference. I personally think that I look better with the mustache but it doesn't bother me to have it. Fashion wise I tend to stick to monochromatic outfits. Black is usually the choice. Considering I can tell you about the pleats in a skirt and I can't coordinate colors to save my life. So I just don't try. You could pretty much stumble into my closet blind folded and come out matching. I think I've spent enough time nervously rambling about who am I am though and you'd probably like me to get to the meat of the story. So I'll indulge you and stop annoying you with these petty details that don't actually mean much to you. It was a a New Years Eve party that my friend was throwing, it was also a house warming party for my friend James who'd just moved out of his parents house and into the apartment with his wife. You know on a personal note, yes I know I'm rambling again it's hard to talk about what happened, I really hate that marriage. I don't hate her, I actually think that Cynthia is a great girl. It's just that the two of them are both young, both have a habit of screwing up their lives and putting the two of them together in charge of a budget. . .it's like putting a wolf and a pig together and hoping they save some for later. It just isn't gonna happen. They also aren't the kind of people who really like to work at things, so I'm expecting divorce papers to be filed sometime around the one year mark and that's gonna be because of pressure from the family. I don't really know if this was a perfect party or just the perfect situation for me. I got to the party around nine and by that time half the people there were already drunk. Well not drunk, we really need a word that is beyond simply drunk. Drunk people slur their words and kinda lean when they walk. They don't puke grab lamps and puke into them thinking they are trash cans. You don't find drunk people asleep on the toilet. That is a few stages beyond drunk. I had obviously missed the first wave of the party, the only reason I really stuck around at that point was because I had no place else to go and I really didn't want anybody to die of alcohol poisoning. It turned out that wasn't going to be much of a problem, anybody who was going to die would probably have already tottered off because they didn't leave any for me. Since I was basically on self imposed baby-sitter duty I did what all babysitters do. I started by ordering some Chinese because the pizza was all gone, then I made enough space for myself on the couch and settled in for a marathon. I was about then that I realized that I hadn't seen Cynthia or James. I checked the master bedroom. There were three couples sharing that bed but the married couple wasn't one of them. Next I checked the guest room and again came up empty. They weren't in either bathroom I already knew that. I finally found the couple on the back patio fucking like jack rabbits. James told me later he wished I'd interrupted them, he scraped his knees and her back pretty bad that night. When I got back to the couch he was sitting in my spot. His name was David. Six foot three put him a little bit taller than me, shoulder length light brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. He had ice blue eyes and high cheek points that gave him a slightly gaunt face. He was clean shaven and sporting a sexy half smile as he stared at the screen. "You get over here right the fuck now!" He shouted. I was about to respond when I noticed the controller in his hand and the headset connected to it. I walked over and sat down on the couch next to his feet. It was really the only free spot and picked up my carton of Sweet and Sour Pork and started to eat while he played Halo 3. He was good, the kind of good that has you in awe when you're on his team or watching and cursing about how he must have hacked the game if your on the other team. I should have been watching the screen. Instead I was noticing that his Italia loafers were so finely polished I could probably shave in them if I wanted. Another thing that I mnged to note was the fact that his socks didn't match, one was a dark green and the other a dark blue, easy enough to mistake if you weren't playing attention but as close as I was it was hard not to notice. He had smooth legs, I already wanted to run my hands along them but I resisted the urge and kept eating. His slacks bunched up slightly at the groin, just enough that I could make out the outline of his manhood on the edge of my vision. He was wearing a black button up shirt with a faint pattern in a different kind of black fabric but I don't remember what it was exactly. I remember that you could see his muscles twitching every time he got a little excited about the game. I introduced myself and tried to strike up a conversation and he basically ignored me. He'd grunt or nod his head politely but that was about all of the reaction I could manage to get out of him as he continued to play through. I couldn't blame him, he was on a roll. It seemed very two seconds the game was flattering him again on his performance. If the game every told me that I was a sexy shoeless god of war I could probably ignore Jessica Alba stripping, and shove her out of the way. As soon as the round was over he handed me a controller and let me play. Apparently having a controller in your hand is the most efficient way to get David to pay any attention to you. Once I started playing he just opened up starting to talk just about stuff. He was here as a favor to one of the girls, she'd told him she needed a ride home and he'd come to get her. She was part of that six ‘man' tag team match in the master bedroom. So he was basically just killing time at this point. We probably sat like that for ten minutes. I don't know if it was me or him, but neither of us were drunk so we couldn't blame the facts on the liquor. The fact was that I was leaning against his leg and my head was practically in his lap. When I finally noticed I quickly pulled away and he lightly kicked me jocking that I had been keeping him warm. We bantered back and forth for a few minutes, I realize now that we were flirting, or he was flirting. I was just playing Halo and enjoying the fact that he was paying attention to me. It's kind of amazing how quickly you can be seduced when you don't realize that's what was happening. I don't have a clue what he said to me that made me let him lead me out to his SUV, I think he asked me to help him carry something in. Once we got to the SUV well there was no good reason to leave. His girl would call him if she needed anything so being in the house was basically the same as being in the house, only without the faint smell of sweat, sex and vomit. He caught me completely off guard when he kissed me. Part of it is that I've never been kissed before, I've always been the aggressor. David gathered my shirt in his fist and yanked me against him kissing me deeply. It's not at all like kissing a woman. For starters he was stronger, there was a power where I was used to a softness. As soon as I realized what was going on I pulled away. "So was it everything you'd hoped it would be?" David asked. Apparently I'd been putting out all sorts of vibes from the moment I'd walked into the room with him. The kiss wasn't quite what I'd expected, I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that. It wasn't what happened, but what I got was incredible. The second time I kissed him. I jammed my tongue into his mouth. Just like the first kiss it was a completely new experience. Every woman I've ever kissed instantly submitted. She leaned back, I was in control. With David it was like were equals, not fighting for control but simply sharing control. While we kissed our clothing ended up littering the back seats of the car. "Suck my dick." No man had ever said that to me before and meant it. I didn't make a conscious decision to suck him off. I didn't have a choice, I had to do what he wanted. I had never really thought about what it meant to suck a cock. I never understood the combination of complete power and complete shame before. It was a cock, he pissed out of this thing and it was in my mouth. I did notice the power, I could bit him if I wanted. That isn't real power of a blow job though. The real power lies in the way a man moves. He gasps when you run your tongue around the tip of his cock. He whimpers when you tighten your lips around his cock bob your head slowly up and down on him. A man's hips twitch just a bit when you slurp and he moans when you pull away. David was very vocal with what he liked and didn't like. Either that or he was faking it which isn't something I really want to think about at the moment. I nearly gagged myself a few times as I struggled to get him off. It's hard to describe what it's like to be on the receiving end of a cum shot to a man who's never experienced it. I got a mouthful of cum and even though it didn't surprise me I still choked when it splashed against the back of my throat. I swallowed it. One thing girls don't get to complain about is the taste of cum. It doesn't even really have a flavor, it's like when you snort a mouthful of mucus. It's slimy and warm and just a bit salty but it doesn't really have enough of a flavor to be disgusted by. It's bullshit to claim otherwise. He'd just finished returning the favor when his cell phone rang. His girl was ready to leave, she was apparently upset that some of the guys had gotten her really drunk and taken advantage of her so he had to leave in a hurry. I got a phone number out of it and I was lucky enough that the start of a new year was also the start of a new life for me. I knew for sure after that that I could be interested in a men. A New Year, A New Perspective This is story is written from half truth. The other half is made up, mostly for literary reasoning. Reading a story with complete truth is not always the most entertaining (at least, not if it's my life.) However, I will be staying within the realm of the possible and not too far from the truth where ever it is wholly entertaining. This is my first story of an erotic nature and I plan to write more if it goes well. _ I have known this girl for almost two years. We had met in the September of my first year of college. I was not sure at first about her if I was perfectly honest. She was both outstanding to the eye and to the ear. The first thing I ever heard her do was let a squeal out of the top of her voice as she saw one of her friends who were also taking the class. The next thing I noticed was her choice of attire. She always chose to dress in the brightest colours. Often the colours would clash, blues and greens, pinks and oranges, it mattered not to the girl. At first, it all rather annoyed me. It was too much for me. I am rather conservative myself and always did (and always do) choose to dress in dark and plain colours. Navy blues, blacks and greys. However, as the first year progressed the teacher imposed a seating plan on us. It essentially forced us to sit side by side albeit mostly in silence. Now, one thing you need to know about me is my luck with girls. At eighteen I had had one girlfriend. This had been when I was sixteen and we really had not got that far. It had literally been nothing more than a few weeks of touching and heavy petting until we stopped texting and the relationship (if you want to call it that,) died out. I am not even one hundred percent sure of her name anymore in truth. This girls name however is Lui. As can be assumed from the name, she is of Asian descent. Her complexion is fair and her skin fairly light. Her eyes are a deep shade of brown and her hair a slick black with a highlight of blonde through the fringe which she always wears over her left eye. I never really noticed any of the smaller things up until the past year however. She seemed to harbour a dislike for me last year. It may have been due to my quiet arrogance which I have been known to express to those who do not know me too well or maybe for reasoning I did not know. Things changed this year and that is what this story is about. When I returned to class in September I found myself once again in the class with the Lui. I looked around the class and knew no one else; I did not even recognise the teachers this year. Lui and I caught each other's eyes for a second and resigned to sitting next to each other again. Thinking about it now, it was probably at this point that I first began to notice the little things about her. We did not speak to each other but nodded more as a polite gesture as we sat down and focused our attention towards our new teacher. He was a winner as far as teachers were concerned, that would come to play a pivotal role in this story - although, that is for later. At that current moment in time he was handing out pieces of paper to each person in the room. He handed one to Lui and then to myself. Coursework came as no surprise to anyone in the room; we knew we had to do it at the beginning of this year. What we did not realise was that the school was going to pair us up to do a bunch of assignments prior to the final piece... I was with Lui. I would say 'hate' is too strong a word to describe how she felt about me. Far too strong, it was more a quiet distaste. Only not knowing anyone had lead to us even sitting together. When the teacher announced "you'll be working with the person beside you," I stole a glace to my left at Lui. She did so at the same moment and for the second time that day we saw into each other's eyes. Her eyes had clarity about them. Like you see right through them and see exactly what they were thinking. Right now, her eyes told me she did not care for the assignments we had been set. I could not say I was either. Our conversation for the next few moments was purely business. We traded numbers and agreed to meet the next day in the space in front of the school to get the assignment done with. That was all we were to agree. _ The next day rolled round in a quick fashion. I had almost forgotten about having to meet the girl but remember with a few minutes to spare and walked a quick pace towards the benches. Lui already sat with her books open and seemed to be writing notes on the assignment already. 'Less work for me,' I figured. I sat down without speaking and pulled my books out. It took a few seconds before she raised her head and looked at me. She gave a courteous smile -- not one of happiness but one purely of acceptance of my being. It was then I noticed something for the first time. Her cheeks. This was to become some I loved about this girl. For now, they merely interested me. They were puffy and the high cheekbones meant her face was full. When she smiled they moved ever so slightly. I realised for the first time that this girl was beautiful. Not in the sense that I loved her, at least not yet, but in the sense of an animal attraction. I let the thought run through my head. It was the same fantasy I had had a million times before. Not her but others. No one in particular, just others. A blank room stood before me. The walls were a bright white and clean. The lighting was natural. Before me stood Lui, her small frame about two inches smaller than mine. She wore her bright clothes, which for almost the first time, did not annoy me. They hung to her perfectly. She stood about a foot away, looking up at me. She brushed the fringe from her eyes and peered up, reaching up on her tip toes, closing her eyes as she did so. My own eyes closed... "Neil!" I could hear her call as I shook my head and looked up towards her still picturing her leaning in towards me. "Yes?" I asked in my usual monotone. I always kept my voice void of emotion. Emotions lead to things that I did not know about and I feared that which I did not know. "Are you going to help me?" she asked, keeping her eyes fixed between mine, unblinking. I noticed from this point forth that she did this a lot. She would rarely keep any real eye contact when she was speaking to someone. Instead she would stare between the eyes. It gave enough respect to the person she was talking to without the need for the awkward stares. Nonetheless, I nodded in the affirmative and we discussed the task at hand. At first, things were slow. Conversation was awkward even if it was predetermined about the History of Nazi Germany. The discussion got easier over time but as the conversation developed (never anything other than history however), as did the weather. At first it had been fairly sunny. The wind had rustled the few trees that lined the front of the school and it was bright. By the time we were moving towards the end of the assignment it got darker. Then without any warning it began to rain. We were about one-hundred yards from an entrance to the school. While this certainly does not sound far, it is when you need to pack your bags and get inside. When I say it began to rain hard on that day, you'll have to take my word for it, it really was chucking it down. I dumped all my things into my bag and she gathered hers and we began to run towards the school's entrance. Half way there I heard a familiar squeal from Lui as she slowed down to a stop. I turned around and saw her papers flying around the courtyard. I wanted to laugh but I stole a glance at Lui and saw another thing I would come to notice more and more over the next few months. She looked angry, but her big cheeks made her look insanely cute as a result. I could not help but take that in for a few moments. I was most certainly beginning to see this girl in a different way, if only as an object of my sexual desires and imagination. I helped her grab all her papers in silence. Natural conversation had still not been something we were able to do. I grabbed her bag she had set down beside her and flicked my head as if to say 'let's go!' She obliged and we were soon running again towards the door. We broke into the warm that lay inside. I held the door open for her as she ran in and panted with exhaustion. Then something strange happened, she laughed. I had heard her laugh before but it sounded different this time. It sounded somewhat sexy. When she laughed she would cover her mouth with her hand which only served to make her look as if she was trying to hide it. Her hair was wet and her clothes soaked. She looked damp and heavy and I felt like I should do something to help her out. Yet I did nothing. I would later come to learn that this put things between us a fair way back and should have realised the laugh meant she too had seen something different that day. Had I helped her that I day I stood a chance of getting with the girl much sooner than I did. Alas, I did nothing. I looked down at her for a few moments before sighing and going to turn away. Then I heard her voice. "Neil," she said, slowly, as if trying to pick her own words carefully. "I'll see you tomorrow." _ That night my dreams changed. I rested my head and the usual place of random women I did not know were replaced with Lui. The dream continued. She leaned towards me, upwards. I leaned towards her. Our lips met. I could feel her full cheeks pressing against mine with warmth I did not even know they had. My hand planted itself to the small of her back. Her hands sat nearer my waistline. Not once did either of us open our eyes. We continued to kiss even as I stepped forwards and her backwards until her shoulders met the bright wall. She moaned a small moan of affection into my lips as her tongue darted out for the first time circling my lips, tasting them, knocking for entrance. Asking for permission for my tongue to come out and play. I obliged, opening my lips to allow her tongue in. It circled in my mouth, mixing, dancing and fighting with my tongue as they wrestled over one another. My hand had not moved. Lui's had however. It had begun to fidget with the buckle of my belt. Unable to see, not daring to open her eyes she fumbled until the clasp came undone. I had seen this dream many times before of course but I when I was to wake up the next morning I would note how much more intensive this was. It was like being there. Since then, I have had real sexual relations with less tension and less feeling than me inside my own dream that night. Following my belt came the button, and then the clear sound in the silence, only filled by the sounds of our tongues playing with one another, of my zipper. Already I was hard. My erection was held no longer as Lui wasted little time and resting a hand against my well toned stomach and sliding it beneath the waistband of my boxers. Her touch was cold, her hands small and delicate. I could feel it sliding along my hot flesh. Still kissing I could not see it but let out a moan of approval as her hand touch my erection for the first time. Her fingertips danced along the edge, teasing it, making it pulse, before she wrapped one of her delicate hands around the base and tucked ever so slightly on it. More moans of approval would escape my lips. I could feel her own lips turn up into a smile before she pulled her head back for the first time. There were never any words in my dream. Ever. The woman, now Lui, would simply smile a sweet smile and sink to her knees before me. A hand covered her mouth though in her usual fashion as she done what I had dreamt so many others had done before her. Once upon her knees she worked the trousers and boxers down until they were round my ankles. She would then regrasp my shaft and tuck slightly, lowering her head towards it. Her hair fell over her face as she extended her tongue for the first time to poke the slit before her. Her tongue would then dance its way dance the shaft, then back up before finally her small, delicate lips would wrap around the head. She would carefully suck only the head into her mouth, her hands movements becoming faster as she did so. I could not see her eyes; she was too concentrated on my shaft to look up at me. And soon I would be too concentrated on the same thing as I could feel the usual feeling of my balls tightening and her hands gripping the shaft, asking for the balls to release. Then I woke. I never woke from this dream yet something had changed. It was almost too intense for my sleeping brain to handle. I had a raging hard on and gripped it with my right hand and sighed to myself. A single day had changed my entire way of looking at the girl. I wanted her now -- a lot.