The Virgin - Part One of Two A True Storyby Jess Sudhir
If you are at all the same as me, then there's a certain extra frission provided by knowing a story is true --that there was an actual cock and balls involved, that two real bodies came together and had real sex with each other, that one man's real penis went up another's real ass.
That's where I have the advantage over you, the reader. You will never know for sure whether the incident I am about to describe actually happened. I, on the other hand, can remember each sexualized detail as vividly as on the day it happened.
One hand was down my pants. My dick was hard. I was typing with the other hand, and my mouth had just dropped open. I had to read the words twice. "White, virgin, 18, ohio.
"Yes, there were other words in there too, but those were the ones that caught my eye. The ones I had been looking for.
My own profile said this: Biracial, bisexual, good-looking, 26. Likes younger, whiter and cute. Inexperience a plus. Ohio.
I immediately paged him for a private message . Our conversation was brief and to the point. Yes, he was in the same area. No, he had never had any other sexual experiences in real life, none. Yes, he'd be willing to meet me --and jerk off.
Herein lies the the first unbelievable part of my story. I swear when I left my house, my only intention upon meeting the anonymous high school boy I had been chatting with was to place my hand on his dick, and his hand on mine. You see, despite my pose as the older, more experienced one, my history had largely been straight. I had never gone further with another male than mutual handjobs. All right... I had also been on the receiving end of some very fine blowjobs. But I wasn't expecting anything of that nature today --I told you this story would be hard to believe.
At any rate, the location the boy suggested was a public mall at the far side of town --a place I had only been once. He was going to sit outside the Sears store. "How will I recognize you?" I asked.
"Just look for my shirt," he said. Then, maddenly, he signed off, leaving me without any clue as to what the shirt actually looked like.
My mind was not hopeful, as I began the lengthy drive across town. I had tried before to meet people out of the chatroom and it had never worked out. More than once, I had been set to meet someone who never showed up, leaving me to beat my meat in frustrated anger alone.
My mind wasn't hopeful --but my dick was an optimist. It throbbed in my pants in tune with the hum of my car's engine. A high school boy. A virgin. And horny. Over and over the same refrain. A high school boy. A virgin. And horny!
When I arrived at the mall, it was a typical suburban hole, old-school and dreary. But there, sitting outside of Sears was a boy right out of my fantasies. He was fresh-faced, thin and pale, with straight brown hair and one of those beaded necklaces all the teenagers seemed to be wearing. He looked younger than the eighteen he had claimed online, although it was possible. His shirt was utterly unremarkable.
I sat down near him, but he gave no sign of noticing me, and I cursed my overactive imagination. This boy didn't look gay at all. Surely he was just sitting there killing time, while his mother or his girlfriend shopped for underwear somewhere.
And yet... the mall was nearly deserted, and my dick was still hard as a rock. My heart pounding, I leaned in his direction and spoke: "Hey... waiting for someone?"
What a pervert I was. My mind had already jumped ahead to naked boyflesh and other unmentionables...
"Yeah, I was supposed to meet someone here."
"Hey, me too."
The kid looked up at me searchingly. His voice was calm but there was a wild look in his eyes.
"You weren't.... on the computer?" he said.
"Yeah," I said. "That was me."
He nodded and suddenly got up.
"Okay," he said, his voice cracking a little. "Let's go."
As we walked to my car, I said a little thank you prayer to God. I could hardly believe my luck.
I was a teenager before I really started to notice white boys sexually, but I trace my attraction to them back much further. Back when I was a little kid, I was the dark-skinned exotic one, and I envied the white boys in my class for their pale skin, pretty hair and bold confidence. Now I was alone with one of them in my car, and I was the bold one, I was the confident one. I had something he wanted. I'd be a liar if I said his raw youth didn't turn me on.
"Okay," I said, as we got in my car. "Is there anyone at home at your house? Or would you rather go to my place --it's all the way across town.
"I stared openly at his crotch as I spoke. There was a big bulge in the middle of his pants, and he wouldn't meet my eyes when I looked at his face.
"I thought we could go park around behind the movie theater," he said. "It's all boarded up. No one ever goes there."
"You want to jack off here in the parking lot?" I said.
"Nobody ever goes there," he repeated. One white hand fumbled nervously with the lock, as though he were thinking about jumping out of the car. So I threw the car into gear and drove to where he directed me.
I can't say it wasn't exciting --I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist --but it felt so much out in the open. The hot sun was shining, and there were houses on the other side of the fence. But I wasn't about to waste the hottest boy I'd ever had the fortune to be that close too. So I reached down and grasped his dick through his pants. I was right, it was hard, and he let out a little gasp, half surprise, half pleasure.
At that point it was like a sense of resolve came over him, and he went straight for my dick in return. Without bothering to work his way around the bases, he went directly for the zipper on my jeans, releasing my grateful dick to spring loose into the air.
I'm not one to boast, but I've never had any complaints about my dick size. It's only about an inch longer than average, but it's thick and meaty and the color of milk chocolate. Even so, I wasn't prepared when the boy said "I've gotta get a taste of that," and dove for my lap.
Now it was my turn to moan in surprised pleasure. If you've never had a hot boy give you a blow job you won't know what it feels like, but if you ever have... it's hot and wet and... well... I've never been good at stopping someone once they start sucking me off. Instead my hands went to his head and began stroking his hair.
Just then, however, I saw something that gave me pause --a man and his little daughter crossing the parking lot. And the man was giving us dirty looks. Awkwardly I pushed the boy off of me and stuffed myself back into my pants as well as I could.
"Please," I pleaded. "Can I take you home? This is just too out in the open for me."
TO BE CONTINUED...
Yes, this story IS true --that's why I didn't include any names or place names.
I welcome fan mail at jesssudhir@yahoo.com
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bisexual/highschool/day-of-the-bonerandgay/incest/farmboys-and-ghettoboyz