2 comments/ 23192 views/ 14 favorites 2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 01 By: CasparStein Life's been much easier since deciding to pursue my attraction to men. I'm still attracted to women but since deciding to act on my impulses I have found myself appraising men for their sexual potential more and more. For instance, I was down in Cornwall a few weeks ago dawdling away a morning on the surfing beach at Polzeath: I'm nearly thirty now and have looked after myself. I was a good enough footballer to trial for three pro teams and have never really stopped running or swimming, or something or other, to keep in shape since realising that I wasn't quite good enough to make it and gave up in my early twenties. I could stroll in my tight black swimmies with confidence amongst the, mainly, much younger surfing crowd. I'm not blessed with a big cock but it's reasonably thick and looks good sticking out its hard six inches on top of a nice pair of balls framed by a gingery wisp of pubic hair. I'm virtually hairless on my body in any manly sense. In fact you could believe I shaved my body if I didn't have the pale and peachy complexion that is often associated with skin like mine. I needed to get out of the sun after spending the best part of an hour exploring the beach and I found a seating place outside in the shadows at a cafe near to the surfing school. On reflection it didn't surprise me that I should find myself there in my skimpy trunks because there were three very toned, very tanned, very taught surf dudes of indeterminate age lolling around near to the surf school and attached hire shop, one of whom had caught my eye earlier. From where I was sitting I had a great view of his nicely sculpted torso. It isn't that I had planned it consciously, being there, with this view, with me wearing not very much. But my subconscious mind had won a little battle that it may have lost to my sharply logical and usually dominant conscious one only a few short months ago. The same logical mind had prevented me from exploring the limits of my capacity to enjoy my own body in the way I really wanted to until then, until I found myself online buying a lifelike dildo and a tube of lube. Thanks DocJohnson and your team of developers for all the fun, for all that the six inches of mulatto, suction-cupped, rubber dong had taught me about the pleasure my arse could give. A pleasure I now assumed to be the norm. I never managed to last more than a week now before I felt the urge to plug myself up with my flexible friend. I had become quite adept at this business after a few initial weeks of experimentation and some discomfort and I could rock on it for ages now feeling the ecstasy build in waves before I boffed up a big load of spunk as I clenched and writhed. Easy as that. I had become a bona-fide cock jockey. Men had always been attracted to my body especially when I was in my late teens when I was at my most androgynous. One of my friends' friends had been quite insistent about wanting me at that time. A few years older than me he was a well-known womaniser who treated his conquests with disdain. He could afford to be like that because he was tall, broad and handsome and packed a heavy purse in his tight Levis – something I'm certain everyone was aware of because he had a habit of flaunting it. Barry Leigh - a name and a fantasy I have revisited often since. I stayed over at a party at his place one Saturday night and the following morning I woke in a small converted loft alone and slightly bleary. Needing a pee badly I went downstairs to the bathroom. The door was open but the shower was running. I went in and asked the silhouette behind the shower curtain if it was OK to pee, not wanting to upset what might have been a girl standing there in the steam. Barry's head appeared over the top of the shower curtain and he told me to go right ahead. I pee'd the big gush of the hungover beer guzzler and Barry began recounting his argument with his girl at the time the night before. She'd disappeared in a taxi at some time early in the morning for a reason he didn't elaborate on apart from to say they hadn't agreed about sex. I didn't bother flushing the loo before putting the seat and lid down and sitting myself down. Looking back I must have wanted to stay there and catch a few glimpses of his brawn in the shower but I wasn't conscious of that at the time. We continued to chat about this and that, plans for later, so on and so forth. I mused silently about the drink-stained cheesecloth shirt that was clinging to me in the steamy atmosphere and asked if was Ok to take a shower after him. 'Yeh, sure,' he replied. I became dimly aware of a rhythmical change in the noise of the shower – a pattern all men are familiar with. Barry's conversation tailed off as I watched. His upper right arm was brushing against the shower curtain revealing itself more clearly as it stuck to the thin wet material. I held still. My cock grew a little. He must have been aware that I was aware. Surely he'd stop having got carried away with himself frustrated by his disappearing girl, perhaps. But he didn't. Instead he turned to face the shower curtain and pressed his cock against it as he fisted himself slowly. The big bell-end pressed out showing the flare of the crown through the translucence of the curtain. My cock was now sticking out of my boxers. I hadn't touched it but it was full and stiff. I mumbled something about making a cup tea for us both asking if there was anyone else at the house I could make one for as I left the bathroom. 'No,' he said loudly before adding ominously, ' it's just you and me.' I made the tea willing away my erection and by time he emerged from the shower I'd taken half the heat out of my boner but only to the extent that it wasn't quite so juttingly prominent, just a half-hard chunk in my boxers. Barry's large lump was still very apparent through the towel he'd wrapped around his midriff as he appeared at the kitchen door and reached up and leant his arms above it. 'Sorry if I disturbed you in there, you looked a bit busy so I thought I'd leave you to it.' I said, in an attempt to diffuse any embarrassment he might have felt. 'No problem,' he replied as I handed him his mug of tea carefully avoiding staring at his crotch. He smiled at me as a brushed past him on the way to the bathroom. My cock had sprung back to life before I'd even started the shower. It was no good. My own nakedness together with the recent memory of seeing Barry stroking his big fat knob was having a serious effect. I started tugging at myself as I cupped my balls in the shower trying to avoid making the same telltale noises that had given Barry's game away. I assumed Barry had got himself off and shuffled my hand quickly over myself desperate for a similar release. I closed my eyes and imagined his cock spurting in the same shower. I came in a leg-trembling minute. As I dried off Barry came into the bathroom. 'Better?' he idly asked. 'Yes, much, I needed to freshen up,' I replied and again sat down on the loo seat and bent forward to dry my feet concentrating on the task in hand and not on the gap in the front of Barry's towel through which poked, surprisingly, his still-throbbing tumescence. A few awkward seconds passed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him ease off the towel. He leaned back against the wall, spread his legs slightly and began stroking himself. I couldn't avoid looking any more and turned and gulped as he drew his foreskin back over his bulbous purple glans. He had a lovely cock - meaty and thickening slightly at the base. His balls must have been twice the size of mine, in a slightly crinkled sac. I've thought about that moment many times since. The look on my face must have been telling a story because all he did was walk over, palm my face softly and stick his thumb in my mouth. I sucked it involuntarily. I reached up and grabbed his cock at the base. 'I want to fuck you,' was all that he said. But that was enough. I bolted. Mind over what matters you could call it. I stood up in a jolt releasing his cock from my hand. I left him there. All stiff and ready. Just went without a word. I got in my car and drove home. I forgot forcibly through sheer strength of will about that encounter until years later when it became a thought that sometimes occurred in the nearly awake moments of the last of sleep. More recently it was something that I conjured up as I romped with my dildo. In a newly imagined version of what might have happened it was I imploring him to fuck me. All this and more may have been occurring to me as I watched the surfer dude plying his trade. Curly dark hair framed his beaky face. A nice big roman nose and wide bowed lips. My shades hid my eyes but there can have been no mistaking the direction of my gaze. Over the course of a coffee and a couple of cigarettes he became aware of my attention. He looked over again and again. I smiled. Eventually he couldn't ignore it any longer and strolled over. 'Are you looking for something?' he asked, slightly aggressively. 'No, I'm looking at you, you're gorgeous,' I said matter-of-factly. He was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty I now guessed to myself; six feet, or slightly under, tall. He laughed. 'Sorry man, I'm not into men but if I ever change my mind I'll be on the lookout for you.' He turned and left. Nothing ventured nothing gained, I thought to myself. I went back to my hotel and globbed a large slick of lube onto the head of my dildo and gave myself a good seeing to whilst thinking about the surfer dude's muscular torso flexing as he drove his cock into me. Mmm. I had an appetite for cock - a fully-fledged and unabashed desire. Something would turn up. My radar may have been wonky earlier because I had been certain that the surfer dude would be available for some fun. Just before falling asleep that night I could almost feel that he was thinking about me. 2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 02 When I wrote about me appraising men for their sexual potential at the start of the first chapter of this story I didn't really flesh my feelings out enough. I once had a girlfriend who said that she'd like to squeeze the packets of all the men she met as a sort of hello. Just to get the formalities out of the way. I now knew how she felt. All men were targets for my mainly weary appraisals of their fuckability now that I'd got my homo-mojo working. I noticed everything. Hands held a fascination that morning as a waiter brought me my breakfast; veiny and pallid back of hand with thick digits and a rather clumsy look about them. I'd dismissed him as a possible sex partner before he'd even asked me for my order. By contrast he was undoubtedly interested in me. As I said before, men seem to like me. I could almost read his mind: single man in double room, small retrousse nose, strawberry blond, dainty feminine mouth. He wanted me, that much was clear when he offered to help me with anything at all and gave me a conspiratorial smile and wink. All I thought when I thanked him for his kindness was that he didn't have a hope. I'd become a snob about men before I'd even had one. I wanted an Alpha male, a complete contrast to myself. When I kneeled and bent doggy with my bum turned to the mirror and pucker exposed I was imagining someone else. Someone like Barry Leigh. Or to be precise, Barry Leigh. Having got some colour on my pale skin the day before I decided to top-up a bit more in the early-morning sun down on the beach before the heat really hit its heights. As I walked past the surf shop the three tanned surf dudes from the day before were setting out their stall, putting up the surf-school signs and stacking the boards that were for rent. There was a wolf-whistle from one of them and stifled giggles from all. I turned and raised my eyebrows knowing they all knew about my aborted pick-up of the gorgeous curly-haired one the day before. I was completely comfortable with their gentle piss-taking and walked on. It was a fantastic sunny morning and I played in the surf a bit before swimming out to some rocks below a short cliff. I rested there and managed to find a comfortable position to lie back and close my eyes to enjoy the rays. Before long I was daydreaming about cock. I'd had enough sun after about twenty minutes there and swam back. By the time I'd walked back up the sun was beginning to burn and I so found a seat in the same shadowed position as the day before on the terrace of the café. I ignored the surf dude instructors and concentrated instead on their clientele that consisted of a group of fit young women who were stretching themselves into thin wetsuits. Since making a decision to concentrate on my desire for men I had thought a great deal about how to attract them. The girls doing surf school were all completely conscious of how they might look in each pose. It was a great game. Watching them. I like pussy and I love women. Just looking at them, all shy and not shy, blushing and jiggling, ignoring the men they know are watching them. Lovely. But I've got different priorities. Prancing about sticking my arse out wouldn't work for me in this new world I had begun to inhabit. I ordered a bottle of white wine and some whitebait, and went on a short walk to the newsagent to buy some cigarettes. When I got back there was someone sitting at my table. Eating my whitebait and drinking my wine. I looked around confused wondering whether I had made a mistake, but I hadn't. Bold as brass the interloper looked at me and said, 'It's alright, I don't bite.' He had a full head of curly black hair flecked with grey and a matt of chest hair to match. Nice toned arms and thick masculine wrists -- that's all I could see or took in in those few moments. 'My nephew told me about you,' he said nodding towards the surf school. I sat down opposite him transfixed and utterly smooched by his looks. The same roman nose and fulsome lips as the gorgeous surfer dude but older and somehow better. He poured me a glass of wine. As he did so I reached across and touched his smooth brown fingers which were gripping the wine bottle. The drops from the outside of the cold bottle had made them wet. This was coming from a place in my head I didn't know existed. I didn't say a word. I lit a cigarette and looked away. 'I'm Mark,' he said. 'My nephew rang me late last night.' I remained silent. We finished a bottle of wine like that. Not saying anything. I did move my chair to be closer to him. I did hold his wrist tightly as I moved back a bit to show him the lump in my trunks. I did nuzzle my nose against his arm as he squeezed my leg. I did run a hand over his hairy belly underneath the table and rub the bulge in his chinos. I did take him by the hand and lead him away from the café as his nephew and friends studiously ignored us. Up the hill and into the Hotel we went. Words missing. I definitely made the first move when we got into my room. There's no way my actions could be described in another way. I unbuttoned his chinos and pushed them and his undies down and over his big cock which sprung up all flared and angry-looking. I caressed his balls as I slipped a condom on him. It was a tight fit but he still looked great. He kicked off his own shoes and got rid of his ankle-pants in short order as I was getting my out of my trunks. I grabbed the lube tube and squirted some in my hand before giving his cock a good lathering. As I did so he grabbed my face quite roughly and snogged me. That's when I talked. As he deep-kissed me and our tongues twirled I was more interested in the prospect of having a big cock up me than anything else. I pulled away from him and more or less commanded him, 'Fuck me!' I moved over to the bed and knelt in the middle of it before leaning my head forward into the pillows. I reached back and slicked my arse with the remains of the lube on my hands and stuck up myself for the taking. I was as hard as I have ever been. 'Fuck me Mark!' I said. Unceremoniously and without a hint of hesitation he climbed on the bed behind me and started rubbing his cock up and down my crack. I could feel his balls bump against me at the end of each stroke, which was nice, but did not feed my primal hunger enough. I fed my hand underneath and groped his fat shaft in the direction of my hot and very hungry hole. I backed up over his cock and I sunk it in in one fell swoop. I bucked on him like a real sissy boy. I told him not to move and he didn't. He held my hips and urged me back onto him as I convulsed and clenched but he did not thrust. My cock was leaking. All I had to do was touch it, which I did and a few frantic moments later I came in an uncontrolled splashing flood. He'd only been in me for a minute or so. I pushed myself back onto him again before letting him out. I'd been fucked. 2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 03 After the frenzy of my first real fucking I sort of melted. Mark hadn't come because there hadn't been time for him to work up a good head of steam as I had selfishly pursued my own pleasure. I rolled the condom off his fat prick and threw it in the general direction of the bin. I got up and ordered a bottle of champagne from room service. I suggested he pull back the covers and get into bed. He did so without protest but had a pensive look about him as he did so. I was still fluttering with joy about my unlikely and beautiful christening. I felt fucked and fulfilled. I'd lost my cherry in the most special way. But he didn't know that. The champagne arrived, delivered by the same waiter who'd served me breakfast that morning. He seemed keen to come in so I let him. What he saw was me wearing nothing and Mark in the bed. He looked at Mark. As he looked I sort of looked through his eyes at Mark as well. My cock was still wet from coming and I must have smelled of sex. The condom lay in the corner not too far from the bin. Mark's hairy chest, muscular arms and flat tummy were on display above the sheets and below was a prong of hardness just about surviving the pressure of the tightly-made bed. The waiter left quickly without dallying for a tip. I poured the champagne and offered Mark a glass. He took it. I climbed into the bed next to him. 'Do you always come so quickly?' he asked. 'Depends what you mean when you say that,' I replied. In the ensuing silence I lit a cigarette for us to share. 'When you fuck me I have always come like that but it doesn't mean to say that I would always do so because you've only fucked me once,' I added after most of the cigarette had been smoked. Silence again. 'Do you care if I come or not?' he asked. I understood his frustration. 'I'd care if you went without coming but right now I have no intention of making you come because I love the fact that I've got a rock-hard man in bed with me and I know that as soon as you do come you are likely to either fall asleep or go home and I've just been fucked for the first time and I don't want it to end with a whimper just yet,' were the only words I could think of and as I said them it all seemed a bit trite. I'd been picked up and fucked so who was I to complain. I grabbed his cock and started to wank him but he pushed my hand away. He took my hand in his and placed it on his chest. He tilted his head and tongued my ear. Heaven. I grasped a scrunch of his chest hair and moaned. I turned away from him and wiggled back until his cock was nestled in the small of my back, his hairy balls resting delightfully against my smooth white bum. I turned off the lights and I lay there until sweet sleep got the better of me despite the fact that it was only early evening. I needed some down time to compute what had happened. Waking up in a strange place is always a bit disorientating. Doing so in the company of a stranger makes it more so. Mark was comatose. He was sprawled on his back breathing a slow shallow rhythm. I got up and pee'd. There was just enough light in the room to discern his face. Reflecting on the events of earlier I could only conclude that I had become fuck-struck. I had needed to something and he had provided it. He was a beautiful man but who the fuck was he? The surf-dude's uncle I presume. I carefully peeled back the sheets to have a better look without waking him. He had a nice body. Muscular and strong. His heavy penis was resting against his belly. I touched it. He was three-quarters hard – still frustrated by the incomplete coupling we'd had. His foreskin was dragged back over the head of his cock about halfway to the rim. I took him in my hand gently and raised his cock up to the vertical. Sliding my hand down the skin followed and rolled over the soft head. I grasped the base of him and slowly pumped some blood up his shaft. The head became more engorged as he pulsed up. I had no qualms about what I should do next. I lay down next to him and began to stroke myself with one hand whilst I did the same to him with the other one. Nice and slow. He drifted awake as I wanked him. But I didn't want to shock him into consciousness so as he began to groan I slowed further and whispered a suggestion into his ear. His eyes were closed as he rolled onto me and I had to manhandle him into the position I wanted. Pushing him up and making him rest his hands against the bedroom wall above the headboard. I eventually managed to manoeuvre us both so that his cock and balls were within licking distance. I wrenched some pillows behind my head to give me a better angle and began to slide my tongue up and down his thick shaft and lap at his dangling nuts. He was still only dimly aware of what was happening and that made it all the more exciting for me. His cock was now fully erect as slipped and slid my lips over him. I craned my head a bit further up and took the head in my mouth. I didn't move a muscle for a few minutes apart from giving his balls an occasional tight grip. Each time I did this the cock in my mouth gave a slight lurch. Gradually Mark gained full consciousness and he began to thrust into my mouth. He looked down and merely said, 'Fuck'. I gave his balls a firm tweak and started bobbing my lips over the head of his prick. I leaned back and began to wank him hard and fast. 'Now spunk me, come on spunk me,' I urged him in a low tone. His balls retracted almost immediately and his cock began to quiver. A few moments later he pumped out a huge load as I fondled his balls and stroked him furiously. Most ended up going over my head or onto the pillows but I managed to catch the last few spurts in my mouth and I concentrated on those as I pumped him dry, tipping my tongue into the slit of his delicious dick . My first blowjob and what a party it had been. He rolled over and off me with a sigh. 'Do you always come like that, so quickly?' I asked innocently. 2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 04 I slept the sleep of the just fucked for the first time. I was a little surprised to find Mark still in the bed when I woke. He was still fast asleep. A thin line of morning sun was splitting the curtains where they didn't quite meet. The rays played on the bed next to Mark. He looked about forty years old lying there, not that I cared. He had a beautiful manly face, a nice body and a corking cock. Bliss. I quietly ordered breakfast in bed on the room phone, and went into the bathroom. I felt like a bit of a girl as I stood in the shower after shaving and the rest. Making sure I was clean outside and in. Carefully cleaning behind my foreskin. Making sure I presented a slightly sanitised version of the eager cock slut he'd met the day before. Christ, I'd come on to him like a two bit whore. He seemed more than willing but knowing what I know about men, being one myself, that didn't necessarily mean that he'd fallen for me in any particular or meaningful way or either that he wanted anything more than the frenetic de-spunking we'd both enjoyed. But I did. I wanted more. I towelled myself dry and considered my options. There was a knock at the door. 'Room service!' A familiar voice announced. Here he was again, the less than subtle waiter. I saw no reason to let him into the room again as I had done the night before in the careless mad rush of passion. I was beginning to feel slightly haunted by him. I opened the door and asked him to leave the tray outside. He creased a meaningless smile and obliged with an equally unfelt, 'Yes Sir, of course.' Kind of creepy considering he'd seen me butt naked the night before having just been obviously rogered. I waited for the waiter to leave before bending down to pick up the breakfast tray. Mark who was just stirring when I turned round. Before I had a chance to reconsider my options I found myself putting the tray down and planting a big smacker of a kiss on his lovely full lips as I reached down under the bedclothes and gave his soft package a squeeze. Hardly the action of an option-considerer. But it seemed as though I didn't have any options. 'Morning,' I said as slipped subconsciously into my new skin. He reached up and fondled the back of my head before drawing me down for another, deeper, more pressing kiss. 'What's the time?' He asked. 'Haven't got an exact answer for you. Time for breakfast, I guess,' I replied. I had to treat this situation with some nonchalance otherwise I would just submit to my urge to lie him down on the bed and bounce on his cock all day, or at least as much as the day as I could manage. As I put the breakfast stuff on the table in the room Mark got up and went into the bathroom. I resisted the temptation to follow him into the shower and help him wash as I heard the water start to flow. But I still imagined myself doing so. A naked breakfast with the man who'd fucked you for the first time is a difficult deal you might imagine. But it came completely naturally to me. I fed him and fussed over him. Through the glass top of the table we were sitting at I could see his flaccid cock. Plump and neatly covered by a foreskin that ended in a small 'O' through which peeked the slitted end that I'd tongued last night. I'd come such a long way in a few months. From a hesitating and inevitable acceptance of my preference for cock, for men in general, to someone who had taken a man to bed. The first time that I realised what my fate was is mainly down to the dildo. I can't emphasise enough the importance of knowing that I could receive and enjoy a man-sized thing up me. I'd experimented before with this and that and although I had derived some pleasure from having played with myself and sticking the odd object slightly into my bum I hadn't really committed to it. When the moment came and I found myself pushing back onto a cock-shaped thing and realising it had gone in most of the way, that I was impaled and happy being stretched and explored, had changed the game completely. The first time that happened I didn't need to come. All I needed was the knowledge that I could do it -- accommodate a man and be enthralled by being fucked. I was always bound to let a man fuck me after that. Barry Leigh had wanted to do that to me over ten years before. I looked at men in a different way the next morning and have been doing ever since. Mark's hands were playing with a croissant. He turned it up so that its points were standing up and he pushed a fat finger into the thickest part of it between its 'legs'. I laughed and in a high-pitched and exaggerated French accent said, 'Fuck me!' He looked up and smiled at me. Sharing a moment like that can make all the difference in a new relationship, if that's what this was, which was by no means certain. 'So that was your first time with a man. You seemed to know what to do?' he said quizzically. 'I'm not sure about that, but I knew what I wanted,' I explained. I went on to tell him a little about myself; about how I had reluctantly come to the conclusion that I preferred men a few months before. How I'd always swooned at cock but had had several good relationships with women and still found them sexually alluring; that I now swooned at men; that men seemed be attracted to me. I had had countless suggestive offers made to me over the years. I was in a club in London once, not a gay club, when I had been invited into the VIP area by one of the doormen on the express invitation of 'Mr Williams' who turned out to be Danny Williams, fashion guru and gay lothario. He seemed to think, very presumptuously, that I'd be going back with him for the night. I explained that I was with my girlfriend and made my excuses and left. I told Mark about the time I'd been accosted in the showers at school by a big-dicked dork that insisted on rubbing his erect cock all over my bum as we stood there, me wondering what the hell was happening, before being interrupted by the presence of the gym teacher who hauled my stalker off into his office. 'You're only my third,' he interrupted. 'I had a boyfriend at University, got married a couple of years after leaving and had two kids but then on holiday in France on a campsite I got seduced by a German lad and my wife caught me giving it to him behind the showers. It all fell apart after that last year. Terrible time.' 'When you say he seduced you, do you mean you weren't willing?' I asked. He got up and stood behind me. His cock sort of half-flopped onto my shoulder and I felt it thicken and lengthen as he stroked my head. I knew what to do. Didn't have to think about it at all. I got up and forced him back to the wall until he was flat backed against it, pumping his cock with one hand and guiding him with a firm hand on his chest with the other. I dragged my fingers over his chest as I tipped my face up for a quick snog before kneeling down before him. I glanced sideways into the mirror on the wardrobe that gave me a perfect sideways view of his nearly hard cock and me hunched on my heels. I was again hard as hell. My cock poked up red and ready, the tip and top visible above my thighs in the mirror. I gave him a good licking, you could call it worship, before taking as much into my mouth as was comfortable. I'd mouthed my dildo in anticipation of this and knew my limits as a consequence of doing so -- it really turned me on doing that, dildoing my mouth. This was so much better. The taste and feel of a live throbbing cock. Careful not to graze him with my teeth I opened wide and felt his soft knob head settle into the roof of my mouth and flattened my tongue against the underside. I did nothing more than that apart from close my lips around him and softly suck. Mark started to move his hips back and forth. Hardly moving my head I accepted the movements as his glans moved in and along and touched the fleshy top of my throat and out again until the rim touched the inside of my lips. He came in my mouth with a low groan after several minutes of that. I let most of his load slide out and it dripped down onto my chin and chest. I concentrated again on the slit as I worked his softening meat with my hand. I felt so natural doing that. So hot having all that power and control over a man. Mark and I exchanged mobile phone numbers as he got dressed. He left soon after saying he'd ring me later.