I was in a long, monogamous relationship throughout my twenties. That relationship ended in 2003, and because it was devastating, I was sexless for about a year and a half while taking stock of my life and focusing on work. I tentatively started to date again in 2005, and I finally went to bed with a guy I'd been seeing for several weeks. He was an actor, and though he was cute, he was a bit chubby, with a dad bod, and he was starting to lose his hair. After our night out at a concert, he was about to drop me off in front of my house when he started kissing me in the car and opened my shirt. I wasn't expecting anything, but he asked if we could go into my house and continue.
After about fifteen minutes of kissing and making out, shirts off, he fumbled to open his fly, and then it emerged, enraged. I was stunned by how huge it was (9 inches cut, and very thick); I'd experienced only one before that almost compared. But this one was beautiful, truly, like a marble sculpture. I was so surprised, excited, and a bit nervous (I'd always been a top and had no idea how I was going to accommodate that). Still, I thought, bloody hell, this is really going to be a monumental night.
I was mistaken.
First, I could barely get the damned thing into my mouth. It was just too damned wide. Like trying to wrap one's mouth around a baseball bat. I could sense that he wasn't enjoying my efforts all that much because my teeth were scraping it every time I attempted to go down deeper and swallow it. So, I resorted to sucking and licking the head and about two inches further while jerking his shaft and slipped a couple of fingers up his ass to massage his prostate. He shuddered hard and came profusely, I swallowed it all, and he literally passed out. Fast asleep. And that was that.
I felt awkward. I didn't know what to do, so I just laid next to him and spooned him as he slept, thinking he probably just came too hard and would wake again momentarily for round two. Again, I was mistaken.
When he did wake about two hours later, he jumped up, got dressed, and said he had to rush out because his parents were watching his adopted son, and he was supposed to have picked him up some time earlier.
As he was leaving, I was polite but infuriated; this had never happened to me before. After the immense thrill ride he apparently got out of it, I naturally felt some reciprocation was in order.
I didn't return his calls the next day or anytime after that. I happened upon his social media profiles recently, and he's now gone full tilt, morbidly obese and bald. I like to think it was karma.