It had only been two weeks earlier that my older gentleman seducer surprised me with my first man kiss and I surprised myself by letting him and kissing him right back. Maybe saying I was “seduced” by his kiss is not the appropriate term. He didn’t hold my hand, look me in the eyes, pull me close, kiss me gently, trace my lips with his tongue, then slide his tongue in my mouth. He locked the door behind me, gave me a hug, pulled back and gave me light kiss on the lips, and then pushed his to tongue deep into my mouth.

When I say I “let” him kiss me, that’s probably not the appropriate term either. Maybe he “took me”, or “turned me out”, or “released me” would be more accurate. He assumed that I would welcome his kiss because he was convinced through our chats that I had pussboy potential. I was convinced he was wrong, right up until the moment his tongue entered my mouth. At first I felt powerless to resist his kiss, he had quickly established himself as the Alpha male and as his beta male I just followed his lead. Also, two seconds or less after his tongue entered my mouth I didn’t want to resist, I wanted it to persist.

I woke up the day after our second incredible meeting with my usual morning wood. As I lay there thinking about the day before, instead of reaching my cock I reached for my butt plug. I had purchased it after our first meeting and had been faithfully using it to get my back door ready for my man and his pleasure. I loved the feeling when the bulge at the bottom of the plug popped inside me and locked in place. I would walk around the house with it in. Hell, if I’m being honest, I pranced and sashayed around the house with my fake cock inside me using it as a placeholder for my “real” man’s real cock.

As I lubed my ass up for some morning fun, I noticed some blood spots and more pain than I remembered from our first meeting. In the past, whenever I topped or bottomed for a t-girl, a condom was used. This time, things moved so unexpectedly fast and just like with his kiss, I was caught up in the moment, the lust, and my sudden desire to please this man who had just rocked my world. And just as he predicted, I wanted to be his pussyboy and have his bare cock in me so he could fill me with his magic sperm. But now that I had a limp dick and a bloody ass, I decided that we would only have safe anal sex going forward. I didn’t have any health concerns about oral sex, besides, I really wanted my first big mouthful of man cum.

It was a couple of days before we connected again on the chatline. Much to his annoyance, I had refrained so far from giving him my phone number for privacy reasons. I started out telling him what a great time I had during our second meeting and thanking him for recognizing and releasing my pussyboy potential. Before I could bring up my health concerns about safe anal sex, he asked me if I wanted to do anything new during our next meeting. I told him that as long as I got his lust, approval, kisses, cock and cum, that I would be his happy pussyboy.

But there was one thing that I was curious about doing. All that prancing and sashaying around the house stirred memories of my initial step on my walk on the wild side – crossdressing. I had a collection of lingerie and clothes from ex-girlfriends and what I had purchased for some t-girls who I had met so çankaya escort I could dress them up to my liking. I told him that I wanted to dress up for him and kiss him, suck him, and have him fuck me. He said absolutely not, that he wanted a pussyboy, not a pantyboy, and not a sissy boy. He said he thought he had showed me that I didn’t have to hide my desires for men and cock behind a pair of panties any longer.

I told him that he did not close the door to my attraction to and desires for t-girls and gender play, he just opened the closet door to being with men. I tried to negotiate with him and told him that instead of dressing up completely and wearing a wig, I would be willing to just wear thigh high hose, fingerless over the elbow gloves, boyshorts (although I really wanted to wear sexy panties), and a leather collar with an O-ring. Again he said no, with the exception of the leather collar. Right then I decided I would never wear it for him, I would wait and wear it for someone more open-minded and considerate of my desires.

I wondered why he used the term “pussyboy” which has feminine connotations when he wanted his lovers to be 100% masculine. He could have said I had cockslut, bottom bitch, houseboy, sex slave or just gayboy potential. I knew I could still enjoy being his male lover as I did enjoy the energy and passion of two men having sex so I agreed to no crossdressing.

Maybe I hadn’t fully accepted pure m2m sex and still felt the need to have some feminine energy in the room. Or maybe I wanted to dress up so I could be with a man as someone else, denying my own gay desires. But I don’t think it was either case, I think I just liked the feeling of dressing. Besides, I really got off on having sex with a man as a man.

By then I had realized that I just had my first case of hemorrhoids, surely from the multiple training sessions with my fake cock and my recent fucking with his real cock. I told him about my health concerns and he just brushed them aside, saying that he was married and therefore clean. He refused to entertain my protestations that being married and having unprotected sex with his stable of pussyboys did not guarantee he would be disease free in the future. He said that if I didn’t allow him to fuck me bareback, that he would take me off his list. I assumed that was his “to do” list.

During our first two meetings he had gushed profusely about my looks, my body, my attitude, my eagerness to please, and my lust and passion for his kisses and cock. He told me I was his best and favorite pussyboy, and I believed him. Figuring I had some leverage, I tried to negotiate with him again. I told him that he can continue to fuck me bareback and fill me with his seed if he stops seeing his other pussyboys or only has safe sex with them. His answer once again was no.

He then went on a rant about how he was my “Original” Daddy and that he now owned me as his pussyboy. He said that I should be more grateful that he released my gay side and that I needed to be available to him at least 2 days a week. I told him that I was very grateful and that I appreciated him showing me the way, but I wanted to make sure I would stay healthy so I could enjoy my new hobby for years to come.

Up until that day, he had always keçiören escort been kind, encouraging, and sweet to me. I detected a significant change in his attitide and demeanor. He wasn’t treating me like his new prized convert and conquest and favorite pussyboy, instead he was treating me like I was his submissive property and he was in total control. Maybe I gave him the wrong idea by blindly and passionately following his lead during our two meetings. His kiss unleashed my hidden and pent-up desires and during those two hours we spent together he was the lucky recipient of all my gay lust and passion.

Perhaps he assumed that I thought being his pussyboy, I had quickly come to dislike that term, was synonymous with being his submissve play toy. And yes, I did perform the submissive sex acts of sucking his cock and letting him fuck me which may have led him to believe that I have a submissive personality, which I do not. I didn’t feel that I was being submissive, I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing – sucking his cock, getting fucked, and kissing him. I thought I was pleasing him and showing my appreciation for being my first man, not submitting to him.

I had recieved thousands of blow jobs and fucked females and t-girls thousands of times, this was my first experience sucking a man’s cock and getting fucked by a man. It was only natural that I would gravitate to the novelty of sucking his cock and getting fucked by him. At least that’s what I told myself. I did admit to myself that I preferred sucking over being sucked and being the bottom over being the top. But I attributed that to the novelty of it and a personal desire, not a personality trait.

I continued to try to negotiate with him as I was still captivated by his kisses, sucking his big Daddy cock, and getting fucked, albeit safely.

My negotiations went nowhere and only contributed to him becoming irate, demanding and demeaning. I told him that I would forever be grateful to him for introducing me to the wonderful pleasures of m2m sex, but that I did not see a future in our relationship and hung up on him.

For the next two weeks he left a barrage of increasingly nasty and mean-spirited messages in my chatline inbox, validating my decision not to share my phone number. I figured if I were half as desirable as he said during our two meetings, that I would be able to find another man who could further help me explore m2m sex and passion, safely and maybe even in sexy panties. At least to start with.

So my first gay sex relationship ended after two weeks and two meetings. I was more disappointed than sad. I was disappointed because I had thought that the man who had released my gay side would be the man who would continue to be my Alpha male behind closed doors and guide me in exploring the wonders of m2m sex.

Did I regret meeing him? Not at all, just as I told him, I am forever grateful for his recognition and release of my gay potential (notice I didn’t refer to it as p-word boy potential) and for revealing my gay role to be that of the pleaser. And I’m also thankful for him doubling my chances of a date on a Saturday night!

During the two hours behind closed doors with him, I learned that kissing a man felt just as natural as kissing a female etimesgut escort or a t-girl, and it felt incredible in its own way. In some ways, kissing a man is even better, I felt a stronger bond making out with him than I did when I was sucking his cock or getting fucked by him. Being held in a man’s strong arms as he leads our kiss with his hard cock pressed against mine made me feel so safe, wanted, horny, and unbelievably happy.

Another thing that I learned was that I really love to suck a man’s cock. Having a cock in my mouth to worship and adore, kiss, lick, and suck, brings me to my happy place. For the first time, I was more focused on my partner’s pleasure than my own. Maybe that’s just a nice way to spin it because giving him oral pleasure gave me such great pleasure. It’s not like I moved the goalposts, I just discovered the joy in letting and helping the other team score.

I also enjoyed being his bottom. I especially loved it when he fucked me in the missionary position and kissed me at the same time, it truly felt like he was making love to me. I also loved it when he fucked me doggy style, I enjoyed having his big cock inside me as much as I enjoyed having me use my body for his pleasure. Even though I enjoyed being a bottom, kissing him and sucking his cock were even more fun to me.

Based on what I learned about myself and what I enjoyed sexually with men, I thought that my ideal man would be a Top, but not a Dom Top. Instead I would want a loving, gentle Top who knows what he wants and teaches me how to please him while pushing my boundaries and letting me explore my desires. A man 10-15 years younger or older, with a clean-shaven face for passionate kisses. I’m not attracted to the big macho types, my type would be more a beta male in everyday life but would be my Alpha male behind closed doors. Perhaps an older widower or divorcee who misses the intimacy of cuddling and kissing and the passion of getting a hot blow job. Or a slightly younger guy who enjoys kissing and being serviced by an older man.

Now that I knew what I liked and what I was looking for in a lover, I could search for my second man to kiss and more. However, I thought it would be best to wait a few weeks for my body and mind to recover before I began my search.

That weekend I went out to a bar that had a live band and dancing, figuring I might find some pussy instead of being a man’s pussyboy. In the back of my mind I did consider the possibility that at closing time there might be a man who didn’t get lucky with the women but might be open to getting lucky with me.

There were quite a few fine looking ladies there strutting their stuff but my eyes kept going back to one sexy beauty in a pink dress out on the dance floor. I was captivated by her looks, style, and dance moves and was jealous of the lucky guy she was dancing with. She noticed me noticing her, more like ogling her, and discreetly gave me a smile. I still didn’t think I had a chance with her until the song ended and she and her dance partner went separate ways. Before I could make my way over to her, someone else beat me to asking her to dance the next song. I stood there disappointed but fascinated by her as I watched her dance again, and I didn’t hide the fact that I was watching her.

The band took a break and she walked past me and gave me a big smile on her way to the Ladies Room. A guy standing nearby, I assumed he must’ve been a regular at the bar, observed our little interaction and perhaps trying to warn me says – she wasn’t born a female. Well one man’s red flag is this man’s green light. Hello best of both worlds.

And that will be another story…