tagGay MaleIt's Rain on Men

It's Rain on Men

bylatecomer91364©

The sky started clouding over as I found the cafe called 'Chances Are' down on Santa Monica Boulevard and pulled in. In 1974, I was nineteen, and had found a man in a swinger's ad magazine, and was here to meet him.

Inside, it was different than any other restaurant I frequented. The clientele was all men, not a woman in sight. I felt a shiver of guilt and fear as I waded into these unknown waters, looking around for a man in a black suede jacket with a large red book. That would be Gary.

A shiver ran through me as I approached him. Was I really going to cross that forbidden line? I felt nervous. I was scared, but ready. I thought how appropriate that this meeting was at a place called 'Chances Are', because chances were, I was going to get his dick in my mouth that night.

"Gary?" I asked quietly.

"Hi Bill," he answered. "I was afraid you wouldn't show."

"I have to admit, it was a little iffy at times... but here I am. I'm not sure how this works."

It'll work any way you want it to," he said, his clear blue eyes searching mine.

Steeling my will, I felt strangely brave and pulled my chair even closer. I casually reached over and placed my hand on his thigh, gave a timid little half-rub and pulled it back. I immediately wished I hadn't, but I had no idea what to do. He reached over and put his hand on my thigh, and feeling reassured, I ran my fingers over his.

"We can go as slow or as fast as you want," he continued, his eyes piercing mine much the way I had always looked at a woman.

We talked a bit, and I knew I wanted him.

I stammered out, "Do you want to get out of here?"

He smiled. "My place isn't far."

It had started raining when I left my car there and he drove us to his house in a nice quiet little neighborhood in the hills. Later, when the "fog of fag" lifted from my brain I realized how stupid this was: if he was a maniac killer, I was now at his mercy. Obviously it turned out okay, as I am still alive to recount the joyous events of that evening. In the moment, I was resisting the urge to take out his cock while we rode. I really wanted to feel in the flesh what I had caressed through his pants at the cafe. My cock stiffened as I looked at him.

His place was secluded, up a long driveway lush with trees and greenery. It was a beautiful, private setting, perfect for my first intimacy with a man.

I could feel myself becoming bolder as we got out. I waited for him to come around the car, and embraced him. He kissed me ferociously on the mouth. Hungrily I wrapped my tongue around his, reveling in the rough texture of his masculine cheek rubbing against my own.

So different from a woman's face, and it excited me. I was kissing a man -- smelling him, feeling him. He held my face in his hands as he explored my willing mouth. I caressed his broad shoulders, allowing my hands to wander down to the small of his back. I clenched his belt for a moment before sliding down to cup his tight firm ass.

My cock was already twitching in my pants when he rubbed his hand down across my crotch. By the time he undid the top button, I was hard. His tongue deep in my mouth, he tilted me back slightly as his hand slithered in, caressing my dick through my underwear. It seemed that our roles were becoming clearly defined: I was the one who was going to be dancing backwards. I surrendered, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with heightened vigor, savoring his lips.

I let an oddly feminine moan escape my lips, vibrating around his tongue, before I drew back a tad and whispered, low and breathy, into his ear.

"We should go inside."

He clasped my hand and led me in. As the door closed behind us, he grabbed me, kissing me again, harder and deeper, as if to atone for the interruption. I couldn't get my mouth open wide enough for his searching tongue. I sucked on it - hard. But there was something else I wanted to suck on even more.

Right there in the entry way, I dropped to my knees before him. Undid his fly and pulled his pants down. It was a fucking dream among dreams. A silky black thong outlined by his hardening meat. I kissed it through his underwear. Rubbed it. His cock was a little longer than mine, maybe eight inches or so, and he got even harder. Both of us did.

I reached in, held his stiff rod in my hand. I pulled it out the side of the front panel of his thong and peeled the fabric back, exposing his balls as well.

I didn't do any foreplay: I wanted the main event too much for that. Later in my cocksucking career, I would learn more sensual techniques, but for now, I dove right in, slipping my lips over the head of his cock and taking it halfway down. I just about came right there. Finally, a man's dick in my mouth. Playing the fag. No, not playing: being.

I fucking loved it. Warm meat dancing on my tongue. It felt good. I sucked, wanting to savor the flavor of my first homosexual encounter. I was being a very, very naughty boy.

I sucked like I had learned in porn films I had seen at the Pussycat Theater. I did what I liked done to me. I gently cupped his balls while I sucked hard on just the head before easing and sliding halfway down, mindful of my teeth. Gary moaned and thrust his hips, fucking my mouth, gently at first, but spurred on by my soft moans, more insistently. I reached up, felt for his large, calloused hands, and brought them to the sides of my head.

i covered my teeth with my lips and tilted my neck to allow him to thrust with all the wild abandon he could muster, and he pounded my face with cock. The tip of his dick consistently breached the top of my throat, and I found that I was riding the wave of my gag reflex: never strong enough to start the throwing up process, and with the speed he was fucking my mouth, it actually allowed me to keep the reflex at bay.

This truly was on the job training. Take a breath, suppress the gag reflex, hold and repeat. Somewhere in my scattered thoughts, I took comfort in the knowledge that I would be able to learn to deep throat a cock like Linda Lovelace in the movie that had named the practice (I wished I'd had a clit in my throat).

I absolutely loved it. He held my head like a melon and fucked away with grunting, masculine glee. I didn't feel submissive or used in any bad way, but more like 'I'm a player here - I can do this, and he's loving it!' I experimented with constricting and relaxing every part of my oral cavity that was caressing his dick, and quickly found a rhythm that had him gasping.

I wouldn't say that this episode caused him to have a religious enlightening, but he did seem to pay homage to some deity as he started gasping.

"Oh God, Oh God... Oh my fucking God!"

His thrusts hit the top end of his speed range and became jerky and haphazard, like he was at the tail end of a fierce rodeo bull ride and was hanging on for dear life. I was the bull, and I was going to toss him at any second.

I opened my throat, preparing for a gullet full of sperm. He jack-hammered my skull, his urgency building to his impending climax. I was ready. I skewed my lips tighter on him and prepared for it. I knew I was going to swallow him, that there had never been any doubt.

Faster and faster he fucked my mouth, the fingers cupping my head digging into my hair and he started a long, growling moan. I had never been in this spot before, where I was feeling a man approaching orgasm, but instinct told me he was near.

Here it is... here it comes...

With one last lips-to-pubic-bone thrust, he PULLED OUT! I was applying such hard suction that it went POP!!! My mouth suddenly vacated, an explosion of slobber and spit spewed out of me, leaving a long rope of my saliva forming a bridge to his cock.

I looked up, his palms sliding away from my head as he stumbled backwards, severing my spit string, dripping it down onto the floor between us. He knocked over a coat stand in the foyer as he fell back, catching himself against the wall.

He slumped, panting heavily. I looked into his eyes, puzzled. He collected himself and smiled down at me. His large hands reasserted themselves, stroking the sides of my face, cupping that area where my neck fades into my skull, and gently lifted.

I rose with him, palming my hands against his chest to steady my awkward ascent. I was gasping for breath as he led my face to his, my lips to his, my tongue to his. He breathed into my face:

"Nonono... this is way too good to come this soon."

Then he closed the last inch between our mouths. If our first kiss was intense, this was lust to the bone. His chin smeared across the wet saliva layering my own while he plumbed my mouth as if he could find the entrance to my soul deep within. The fact is, he did. I was his. He knew it and I knew it.

I curled my arms around his neck as he pulled my torso flush with his, our tongues dancing above, our painfully erect tools dancing below. His: open, out in the air, glistening with my spit, rubbing against the fabric that still hid mine.

As I sucked on Gary's moist fleshy tongue, confusion crept in. Not sexual - I was all in and more in my lust for Gary and every bit of him. This was emotional, something I wasn't expecting. I felt myself falling for him. I'd never even fallen for a woman this quickly. Caught up in the heat between us, I brushed the thought aside, certain that it was just a by-product of the unknown territory into which I had launched myself. I had thought that homosexuality was going to be only about the cock, not about romance. I think I was just in love with the taboo.

Something about the way Gary held me showed me how much more there could be. The way his cheek brushed mine, the way his hands clutched me, meeting at the small of my back, which was somehow more sensual than if he had cupped my ass. Considering how I had just so enthusiastically slobbered all over his dick, his hands had the right to go anywhere he wanted them to go. I had granted him a permanent easement to my body, yet he held me like an affectionate lover, not like the sex toy of the moment.

He pulled his head back slightly, planted a quick closed mouth peck on my lips and whispered, "Come on - there's more of the house to show you."

Our smiles just inches apart, he kissed me again, a fleeting buss, and wrapped one arm around my back and turned me to proceed from the foyer into the living room. He leaned down and restored the fallen coat rack to its place and chuckled.

"I haven't met very many people that can make me this clumsy."

I snaked my arm around his waist and hugged him close, dipped my head into his shoulder. My other hand slithered up across his chest in a gentle caress.

"You're anything but clumsy, Gary."

Melded together, we ambled through his front sitting room to the kitchen. He never let my waist go as he opened a cupboard and retrieved two wine glasses, handing them to me. I took them, and he lifted a bottle of red wine from a tilted wine rack on the counter.

Still arm in arm, he steered us out onto his patio, pushing the sliding glass door open with his foot. The patio was beautifully appointed. Spacious, with table and chairs, several sofas and a large day-bed. The lighting was ethereal, the atmosphere just about as romantic as I've ever seen, Just feet away, the rain danced to the ground, a shimmering curtain surrounding us in our warm, womb-like love nest.

Gary led me to a sofa near the bed, seating us side by side and poured wine for us. He held his glass up for a toast, but said nothing. His soft eyes told me what I already knew, and I clinked my glass against his. We sipped, never unlocking our gaze, and set our glasses down in unison.

He slid his arm around my shoulder and we kissed again. He was so tender as he explored my mouth, joining with me for a sensuous tongue tango. His free hand began unbuttoning my shirt. I took the cue, and unbuttoned his. Halfway down, I slid my hand inside, reveling in the soft hair across his chest. I found his hardened nipple, a proud pencil eraser of flesh protruding from his light hairy covering, and pinched it, then rubbed my fingers across to and fro, a very popular move with women, and apparently, no less so with men.

Gary moaned into my mouth as he undid my last button, brushing my shirt open and letting his hand roam across the hairless expanse of my chest. He tweaked my nipple as he promoted his tongue as deep as possible in my mouth.

Suddenly, it was as if we both simultaneously jumped on the accelerator. We dislodged from our kiss, nearly tearing each other's clothes off and tossing them onto the patio floor. Naked, we grappled together, skin against skin, erection against erection. He slithered down, taking the seven inch length of me into his mouth in one, cock hungry movement. I gasped and laid back to enjoy.

This was certainly not his first Maypole Dance. Every nibbling, sucking and licking move he made brought me quickly to the brink. I was like a teenager again, struggling not to come too fast on this, again my first time. I held his head firmly.

"Please, Gary, I'm too close. I want this to last."

He let up, smoothed his hand across my chest, leaned up and kissed me quickly.

"Roll over."

Was he going to fuck me right then? I was ready for it, had planned on this to happen, and was comfortable with his size, as he was only a tad thicker than the dildo I had used for practice. I decided that, short of making sure I could delay my climax, I would go with whatever he wanted to do, so I turned over, presenting my ass to him.

His large, rough hands caressed my bare cheeks, cupping them, sliding, meeting at the cleft and gently parting me to expose my now aching hole. One finger trace the length of my crack. I shivered as it passed across my anus and laid my head on its side, welcoming his manual ministrations. I felt him pull my buttocks wide apart.

Then his tongue found me. I shuddered and exhaled, burying my face in the couch as he feathered my hole with light, rapid flicks. Then his tongue was gone and my anus tingled from the cool night air as it wafted across my now wet asshole. I felt him again on my balls as he started a firm, wide-tongue lick that traversed from my scrotum to my hole and up. Then he reversed course, licking back down and repeating over and over his wide range attack on my ass, like he was enjoying an enormous ice cream cone.

I was in heaven, surrendering myself to him, spreading my legs wider to allow him full access, which he took, burying his face in my ass. My cock was rigid against the couch seat, but even slightly rubbing against the fabric was again bringing me to a boil. I lifted my upper torso and turned back to look at him. He looked at me, and I felt he was smiling, although everything below his nose was buried in my crack.

"Fuck me."

He took one long, last slow lick and I watched as his fat tongue crested the top of my cleft. He smile, and planted a kiss squarely on my round entrance, the entrance that was begging, screaming for his admittance. He gave me a playful ass-slap and sat up. I rolled around and got on my knees, facing him from the side as he slumped against the back cushions.

His solid eight inch rod was as hard as drawing well on an 'Etch-A-Sketch' (I do like to torture my similes). Still, I couldn't resist diving in for another suck. Hot and thick in my mouth, I gave it a good wetting, lathering his shaft with my saliva.

I rose, admiring my glistening work, and straddled his hips, facing him. I reached under, grasping his rod, and lowered myself until the head touched my hole. I began to plug it in when he stopped me.

"Wait, baby. If this is your first time, you're gonna need some lube."

He reached into the drawer of the end table by the couch, pulled out a bottle, took my hand, turned it palm up and squirted out a generous portion. I cupped it and lowered it back down to massage the greasy substance onto his dick. For good measure, I shoved two fingers as deep into me as I could, and I felt that I was completely open for him.

I leaned down, kissing him as I guided his cock head to my puckered virgin hole. I enjoyed the anticipation, the feeling of his helmet against the delicate wrinkles sloping into my anal opening, as I held it firmly, poised for invasion.

I gasped into his mouth as I wiggled my ass down, feeling the head push against my sphincter, widening it. No pain, awesome gain. I pushed out with my anal muscles as if my ass was trying to swallow his dickhead, which popped past and took the first of many delicious slides into the pit of my being. It felt like it had come to rest in my colon, and I felt only a twinge of discomfort, which quickly evaporated.

I nearly swooned at the ecstasy of the sheer fullness I felt. I literally wiggled and giggled as I kissed Gary all the more ferociously and began raising and lowering, fucking his cock with my ass. This was so much better than my dildo, this warm, spongy, firm human shaft widening me, filling me.

I was here. I was so happy to be getting fucked, but most of all, I was relieved, thankful that my experience was free of the pain I had feared. I remember being glad that I had worked my way up from slim to fatter dildos, that I had done my homo-homework, and had apparently done it well. Now I was free, fucking my first gay lover with utter abandon.

I Zenned out on the rain falling just a few feet away as I bounced up and down with a very nasty version of extreme vigor. I felt so good, and surprisingly completely unashamed. I really had worried that once I did it, my fantasies would fall away and disintegrate into a morass of self loathing (this was 1974, after all).

I felt good. I felt liberated. I felt this huge cock in my ass fucking me like I had always fucked women, and yet I didn't feel like a woman. I felt like a man, a 'real' man. A man not afraid to experience life, to take my pleasures as I will.

I snapped out of my reverie and kissed Gary. I pulled my knees up so that was squatting on his dick, and he started thrusting up into me. Now he was fucking me as hard as he could, reaming my asshole like a jackhammer. I settled in for my maiden voyage, snaking my arms around his neck, the rain was really coming down, and the noise drowned me out as I freely allowed myself to vocalize my feelings.

"Oh God, baby! Yeah, fuck me, Fuck me!"

"Yeah, you like my dick in your ass, don't you!"

"I love your fucking cock, baby! Oh, God you're so deep! You fuck me so good!"

He slowed his frantic upward ramming, and I wiggled my ass down to his base and ground on him as we kissed. It felt so complete for me: hugging him, kissing him, his body in mine, melded together in our own little Pansy Paradise. It was so good. I got a crazy notion as I looked into the gloom of his rainy backyard. It was a moderate night, not too cold, and the rain pounding the grass looked so inviting.

"Fuck me in the rain, Gary. Take me out on the lawn and fuck me."

He smiled, grabbed my ass cheeks with both hands, wiggled his hips forward on the couch for leverage and stood. He held me in place, grabbed the lube and handed it to me, freeing his hand to return to my ass. His dick stayed put in my hole as he walked me to the edge of the patio. I could feel a few wayward splashes of rain on my back as we approached the raw elements.

Then we were out there in the open. I kissed him as the rain pounded on us. My long hair was soaked within a minute, clinging to my neck and back.

He walked us, fucking, to the middle of the lawn and knelt, still holding me tightly. He positioned his knees wide apart as I felt my feet touch the wet grass. Now I could fuck myself on his cock.

The rain pounded my head and back as I let my hands roam across his broad, slippery back. We kissed a wet, slobbery kiss as he filled me. My hole was well accustomed to his length and girth as I bounced ferociously on him, impaling myself over and over. We made love like savages in the wild. Even though my asshole was shielded from the elements, the water as it dripped and ran down our bodies began diluting the lube that coated his cock. It was getting a little raw down there.

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