When you're nineteen years old, living rough on the streets in a big city. You're freezing cold and wet and you haven't eaten in three days. Then as it begins to rain hard again and a guy who's in his fifties tells you, you can stay at his place if you allow him to fuck you, you have but two choices. Face another night in the cold and wet, fearing every shadow, or you get into the car and accept your arsehole is going to get fucked.
I chose the second option.
The man was called Ian. He's a weekday businessman who lives in the city Monday to Friday. Weekends he goes home to wife and kids. But that's his bag and I frankly didn't care. I'm no fighter, no hard man who exists to challenge others, so the streets were a very daunting pace for me. But then at that time in my life, I thought I had no other choice.
We ate first, then we showered and when I say we, I've never been so lovingly cleaned and cared for. Ian washed every part of my body taking time to wash my cock, balls and arsehole. Only when I became erect did the sex begin. His mouth on my cock as the water hot sprayed over us was so special. I'd not had any human contact other than being beaten, for about a year. So even though it was gay contact, I needed it, I needed his closeness.
Cumming after not too much of his amazing oral machinations, once he'd swallowed my cum, he asked me if he could fuck me from behind. I only nodded as he stood behind me. My arsehole was soaped up. So stood with my right legs raised on the plinth which held the shower toiletries, Ians cock slowly entered my arsehole. It was painful, it was uncomfortable, and it felt like a massive marrow was being thrust up my arse, but within a few minutes my arsehole relaxed and without too much more time wasted, Ian really began to fuck me.
The sense of ones self is truly tested when you're homeless, so to have a man lovingly give himself sexually is a big thing for me. Ian was that man, he took his time fucking me, making me his nights lover and we didn't stop fucking most of the night. His cum was still dripping from my arsehole when we climbed into bed, as he'd climaxed deep up my arse telling me he was going to seed my body.
Following him into his bedroom, he held me close and I could feel his still erect cock pressing into my stomach. Kissing for the first time, we got into bed and the nights fun began. By dawn, I'd taken three of of his cum loads, all of them deep up my arse or down my throat after he taught me over an hours period how to suck cock. And by dawn I was his to do as he wished.
I slept most of the next day, and awoke only an hour before he got back in from work. We ate and then we fucked, and we fucked and we fucked. By midnight I was sexually exhausted, but Ian hadn't taken his little pill for nothing. In the shower again, I was bummed as he called it, and for the first time I had an anal orgasm. That anal orgasm changed everything for me. I became the rampant needy one and thirsted after yet another orgasm like I'd just had.
Ian had to take the day off work, mainly because by the time the sun rose, I was mounting his cock chasing my anal buzz.
Eight glorious months I stayed with Ian, eight months in which I loved another man in every way possible. Then a family member tracked me down and with deep regret I left. We did meet up a few times afterwards, but each occasion got longer apart and eventually we stopped seeing each other.
I'm living in my own house now and have a business myself. I also have a fiancee and haven't indulged in gay sex since. But I cannot say for definite, that I won't ever feel the need for male sexual contact again.
Thanks Ian, thank you so very very much.