TV Cassidy

I knew I was gay from the age of maybe ten or eleven so the usual boyhood experimentations with homosexuality had, for me, a bit more urgency and desire behind them. When other guys were maybe jerking off together after school in Junior High or doing the "I'll show you mine if you show me yours", I was sucking cock in the woods behind a local bar frequented by the few gays in the area. My parents must have thought my grass stained jeans were from something innocent, like touch football. Instead I was on my knees under an oak with a hot, hard cock in my face, the musky scent of men's nut sacks on my chin. A lot was learned under that tree.

I mention the early predilections of my sexual nature only as a prelude to the next step. Which, for me, wasn't giving up my ass to that first cock or even two guys at once. It wasn't a boyfriend or a full time top or bottom. For me, after years of sucking cock and getting sucked and taking it no further, I entered the military to escape the shitbox town I'd been born in. That's how I wound up in London. That's how I found Cassidy.

I was stationed in Essex and spent every weekend I could in the south end of London at the bondage bars and queer clubs. The 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy couldn't be enforced in even such a small country. Who would follow every Sailor or Marine into every rathole in town? The CID, the military's Gestapo, isn't that big. So it was that I found myself in a low, dark bar called The Bit on a warm spring evening with a pocket full of pound notes, a half a pack of Dunhills and two days liberty before me.

It was my custom to get a cheap hotel room as soon as i'd made the city and change from my approved off duty clothing into comething, if not more comfortable, then at least more suitable. I remember that on this Friday, I wore a new pair of skintight vinyl jean cut pants in a really strange oil slick coloration with a back tank-top and fourteen eyelet patent leather Doc Marten boots. Kings Road in London is a really good place for fetish clothing, by the way. I knew that the buzz cut was a dead giveaway of my nationality but that usually got me a 'date' rather quickly.

Back to the real reason your here. The bar was my kind of place. Dim all over with just a random pool of light here and there from a halogen pin spot. A well stocked bar, tasty boys and men here and there and everywhere. Then I saw her. A woman. Gays and Lesbians rarely mixed in a palce like this and yet here she was, staring at me. I realized that I was staring back, rudely, and smiled. She came right over to me and leaned on my shoulder so we could speak over the sonorous techno hammering the old stone walls of the basement The Bit is. Her voice was deep and mellow, feminine but with enough bass so I knew that 'she' was a 'he'.

She was asking me for a light and as I flciked open my Zippo, she leaned in and I could see down the front of her somewhat loose red latex jumper. There were tiny little tits with horizontal barbells through her perky nips. Looking further south, I saw tiny red panties with an obvious, and tantalizing, bulge. When I looked back up into her face she was still smiling at me. Caught. Caught ogling. Her hand dropped to my lap and gently, tenderly, caressed my thickening cock through my rubber pants.

Her voice was Cockney and honey and mocking me, "So, another strong American boy come to defend the mother land.....well, well, well". Her hand was still sliding slowly up and down my now painfully erect cock, it's length pushed by the way I was sitting down the left inner leg of my pants. She was pushing a little harder, breathing a little faster as she smiled again, "My name is Cassidy. Do you fancy some dinner and a fuck?"

I wouldn't say I was speechless. I was just caught the slightest bit off guard. She grabbed a small bag off the bar, winked at the bartender and, taking my hand, practically dragged me out the door through a throng of people. We were on the street and headed into a cab and off to the Indian section of town. In the taxi, she wouldn't answer any questions or talk. She just kept laughing and tickling me. My head was spinning a bit, truth be known. Free of the smoke and noise of the bar, under the morse code of street lamps we passed, I took her in.

She wore her hair in a short red bob framing her pale face. Blue eyes, thin lips. A very English face. Her legs were encased to the thigh in shining red boots to match her latex jumper with three inch heels she demonstrated great dexterity in. Her tiny tits still made for some appealing cleavage. My cock was raging by the time we stopped in a dark street lined with Punjabi restaurants and Paki delis.

She threw some notes at the cabbie and, again taking my hand, dragged me up three flights of stairs. Her apartment door was narrow and the rooms were so oddly laid out I realized we must be under the eaves. She pushed me back onto a sloppy, sagging bed and pulled her dress over her head in one motion. "So, does the view meet with approval, Captain? Interested in fucking a sweet little working girl?" In reply I tore off my boots as fast as I could, followed by the trou (no easy task, that rubber) and my top. My cock was raging and encased in a favorite steel cock ring. She smiled again as I stepped to her and we embraced. "I'm a Sargeant and, yeah, I'd like a piece of that."

Her mouth and mine collided as she reached to my cock and began stroking it. Her red lip gloss smeared acroos her face as she dropped to her knees and began to frantically tongue my balls and suck my cok into her mouth. Looking down, I though I'd blow my load in seconds. With a sliht hand on each of my hips she was tonguing and sucking me with wild abandon. Gulping air and swallowing my knob. Drooling all over me. She was pumping my cock against her cheek as she looked up and muttered, "I want this cock in my tight ass, Sargeant. I want it, I want it, I really, fucking want it!" Her eyes were half closed, delicate lashes on ivory cheeks, as she grunted out the words through clenched teeth.

I pulled her to her feet and she seemed dizzy with her pleasure so I flopped her across the bed and fell across her. Again our mouths mashed together but I slapped her hands away from my cock as she dove for it. More of her minstrations and I'd blow my load on her tight little belly. I kissed and laved her neck with my tongue, working to her tiny little pierced nips. As I massaged her arms and her breasts she moaned and writhed. Licking a long trail on her belly I began to kiss and nuzzle her cock through her musky, hot panties. Her long legs flung wide as I slid to my knees on the floor and pushed her thighs apart.

I pulled her panties aside and her cock popped out. It was, surprisingly, cut. It was also almost as big as my seven and a half inches and fat as well. Her asshole was lightly flecked with blond downy hairs and as I drove my rigid tongue into her she arched that willowy back and bellowed, at the top of her lungs, "Sargeant! Yeeeeeessssss!" her legs over my back and around my neck.

Here are the highlights from the next two hours. I tongued her ass as she stroked her cock. I tongued her ass as she pulled her nipples and nearly wept with pain and pleasure and ecstasy and the delirium that comes from having a tongue as big and hard and strong and wet as mine lapping your ass. We flipped into a 69 and she rimmed me, fingering my ass and licking where no tongue had ever gone before. She sucked my cock to the balls and nearly chipped a tooth on my cockring, gagging at the same time, in her zeal to devour me. I sucked her cock as wildly as she did mine and all the while her mutterings and demands until she finally pushed me off her and lay back with her legs spread wide, red boots gleaming , and demanded I fuck her.

And fuck her I did. Her ass dripping from my rimming and fingering and sucking and tasting was open and ready and she smiled that smile and I leaned forward and put my cock in her tight hot hole and drove into her again and again. I couldn't fuck this little tart hard enough. Cassidy was my first. I had gone no further than cocksucking and receiving until this moment and my first fuck was hard and fast and she moaned and bucked and called my Sargeant and Daddy and, at one point, Charles. I slowed for nothing and when I finally came, with a boiling, burning paralysis stiffening my thighs and balls, she moaned long and low and bellowed again, "That's fucking right! That's right!"

I collapsed onto her a sweating hulk and she flopped her arms across my back as my cock softened inside her ass and she stroked my head and kissed my cheek and said, "There, there, Lovey" and "Shush, shuch, breathe......that was fucking great......" Eventually we rolled apart and she lit us both a cigarette and then, when we'd smoked a bit, she disappeared and returned with a two liter bottle of Bass. We shared the beer and lay still on her sweat soaked sheets and then she threw her cigarette into an empty bottle on the floor and rolled onto me and starting sucking my cock again.

We fucked and sucked and licked and fondled until after noon the next day and then went out for some eggs and chips. Then we went back and fucked some more. Cassidy and I stayed together for the entire ten months I remaindered in the UK. I never told her that she, my Cockney TV, was my first fuck. Maybe she'll see and know.