I have been very blessed with many amazing sexual experiences. From filthy group activities to intimate romantic sessions, I have experienced them all. There are so many great moments that I return to when I want to jerk off.

Not surprisingly, most of the memories I am using when I want some quality me time, include one specific guy. A man that has been the reason why I have experienced so many amazing things. A guy that came into my life early on in my sexual awakening and has been a mentor for me. 

We have shared many “firsts” together. The first time I had poppers. The first threesome with another man. The first threesome with a woman. The first gangbang. The first time someone came inside me. The first time someone looked me in the eyes and told me that I deserve everything in life, that they care about me and they want to see me happy, and sexually fulfilled.

Even though there have been many moments where an “I love you” was more than fitting, we never exchanged one. It felt like it was not needed. Even though many nights over our decade long relationship we acted like boyfriends, we never were a couple. We were just two guys exploring pleasure together. Yet so much more than that.

I met T at a bar. He was there with his friends and I was there with mine. I was barely 22 and he was an experienced 39-year-old. He saw me going to the toilet and he came to introduce himself. He knew I was shy and there wouldn’t be any other chance. He complimented me on my smile and asked for my phone number. I remember how stressed I was thinking that my friends would find my absence weird, how long could I have been in that bathroom? But that moment felt special. It was the first time a guy has flirted with me out in public. Another “first”, you see. Before going back to his friends, he grabbed my hand, pulled me closer to him and kissed me. In that tiny bathroom, with the risk of anyone entering. I was more than aroused. I was excited. Excited for what life could be. 

The first time we fucked was so special. As was the second, the third, and any other time that we met afterwards. For more than ten years, I would text him after finishing work “should I come?” There was never a “no”. I would go, fuck our brains out, and then leave and continue with my life. And every fucking time was special. But what keeps coming to my mind anytime I want to jerk off is the night I spent on my knees while him and his best friend were taking turns fucking me endlessly. The first threesome of many to come. It’s been more than ten years, yet I still remember the feeling. The lust. The cum dripping from my hole. The two hottest guys on earth wanting me. How lost in time we were. How they were commanding me and how I was taking advantage of both of them. I remember it all. 

Why we never got together? I am not sure. I guess it was clear that all this lust we shared felt uncontrollable at times. Like that one time in an orgy at his place. His gift for my 25th birthday. I was in the middle, with more than 12 dicks around me. Hard dicks that wanted to celebrate me. He wanted me to feel special, as I did. But at some point, someone touched me more romantically than he could withstand and he didn’t like it. He thought that the awkwardness he felt would go away if he fucked someone else more passionately. But then I didn’t like that. So we sent everyone away. At the end it was just us and a freshly opened bottle of poppers. He used the loads I had already received as lube and fucked me till we both passed out. It was a good birthday. 

We stopped meeting because I fell in love with someone and we got into an exclusive relationship. I never stopped feeling things for T, or recalling all the special moments we spent together. We just stopped meeting. Occasionally, we would text each other in order to check how the other is doing but after a while we stopped doing even that. It’s been almost seven years since the last time I touched him. 

Couple of days ago, as I was queuing at the bank, I felt someone poking me at the shoulder. T was standing behind me, with a beard that was now grey, new specs, but the same beautiful eyes and mesmerising smile. He was even more handsome than before. His aura was kind of different, more mature, more refined. He was so hot. 

We finished our things at the bank and decided to have a coffee around the corner. I was very happy to see him, and he seemed happy as well. Early on our chit chat he asked me if I am seeing anyone. I told him I was single. He was too. Even though we were casually talking about how much our lives had changed in the course of these seven years we hadn’t seen each other, our conversation felt more like a sexual foreplay rather than catching up. We were completely dressed, with jackets and all, but it felt like we were naked, caressing each other. The lust was still there. 

And he knew how to make me feel seen and loved. He grabbed my hand on top of the table and spoke into my heart. “I am so happy for you.” I felt both my soul and my dick titillating. His eyes were piercing my soul as I was trying to hold myself not to jump on him. Once again, he was disarming me, I was losing control. 

He leaned into my ear and whispered the words that were destined to get us naked once again. “I want to feel your naked skin touching mine, again. I want to lick you from head to toe. I want to feel you are mine, again.”

“I missed you.”

I was helpless. The warmth my body felt was so reviving. So honest. And so needed. We jumped on a cab and headed to his place. During the whole ride he was holding my hand, smiling. He was more than horny. He was happy. I was too. 

His flat was the same as seven years ago, with some minor deco changes. Nostalgia hit me hard. I remembered instantly all these lustful moments that I had experienced in that place. Everything. 

I dragged him into the bedroom, took his clothes off and pushed him onto the bed. I got naked and positioned myself between his legs, ready to please him. There was no time to waste, I had to remind him how good I was in that. I couldn’t hold back. I needed to relive all these feelings, all this lust. I choked and gagged and choked some more as I devoured his thick dick. A dick that was created to match my mouth. He was paralysed. It was my turn to disarm him. Very quickly, he was ready to come. But I was not done. I stopped sucking him and grabbed his legs, spreading them wide open. I rimmed his butt so intensely my tongue got numb. He was screaming from pleasure. 

I reached for the bedside table, opened the drawer, and grabbed the poppers. Same spot as always. I took a good hit and passed it on to him. I was ready. I spitted on my hand and lubricated my starving hole. I got on top of him and my ass devoured his pumping cock. I rode him like I was 25 again. 

I grabbed his face and kissed him as I was fucking him, something that he always loved. His thick dick felt so good. So good. I had missed it so much. I had missed the warmth of his eyes. The warmth of his touch. The warmth of his soul. I had missed feeling wanted by this man. The uncontrollable lust that takes me over when I am in bed with him. How free he makes me feel. How unapologetically myself I am when I am naked with him. How horny I feel. What a hungry bottom I am. I had missed him!

It was time. I leaned in and licked his ear. “Breed me.” 

He grabbed me by the legs and pushed me back, getting on top of me. Now it was his time to fuck me. I was screaming from pleasure. I was in heaven. He was hitting all the right spots. I couldn’t control my limps. I was completely his. 

I felt my inner world getting warm. He let a big scream out and grabbed me tight. He came inside me. As I needed. As he wanted. He kissed me and he finally let go. “I love you. So much.”