A Man on a Bus
My first sex with a man was on the number 39 bus. I was young and naìve and because it was my birthday a bunch of friends took me to a movie. I can't remember the movie, or anything about the day, however the details of the bus ride home are forever etched in my memory.
The bus was crowded and I ended up in the very back seat by the window with about 6 of us wedged into the row making the noises teenagers normally do. One by one my friends got off at their stop and I was left alone, until at busy corner another crowd got on. I had my knees up on the bar of the seat in front and the man who sat beside me did the same thing. He was rather nice looking in a fatherly way, probably in his late 40s and appeared fit and healthy. As the bus jounced along his knee slid over until it was pressed against mine and I thought, was this accidental? It might have been had he moved away but he didn't, nor did I, because in the final analysis I was hypnotized by what was happening.
As a teenager I was your typical boiling pot of hormones, and sex and the thoughts of sex occupied most of my waking hours. I masturbated at every opportunity and tried to sneak looks at the racy magazines in our local store before we were chased out. I was curious about men and watching the grown men in the golf club locker room left me wondering what one of those large cocks would feel like in my hand. That said I was otherwise innocent.
With his leg pressed against mine my companion now casually put his hand on his knee, then I felt a single finger, and then two touch my leg. I played it cool and ignored this intrusion until finally his whole hand was my leg and oddly I noticed he had no wedding ring and in Catholic Quebec that meant that he was not married. The bus was slowly emptying and we now had the back section all to ourselves. Feeling emboldened by my acceptance he began to stroke my knee. I was getting aroused and could feel my cock hardening. The stroking felt good as he worked his way along my leg, but because they were pressed together he could not get his hand between them.
Had I moved away or taken my legs down at that point there would be no story, and many things might have turned out differently but I didn't move, in fact I did the very opposite, I spread my legs and gave myself up to him. To his credit he didn't just grab me but again started stroking at my knee, this time in the inside of my leg working his way up my thigh. I was so aroused was I was almost panting and my hyper active Cowper gland was pumping out pre-come as a furious rate.
My companion was also enjoying himself as while he was stroking me he was squirming around trying to get a very obvious erection into a comfortable position. When he did I could see a cock, the equivalent of the best of the golf club through his pants. By this time I was hotter than I had ever been in my life, sweating and trembling, and my hand seemed to be beyond my control as it moved over and began stroking him. My companion groaned out loud at that, and I could see a small wet spot appear at the head of his cock as I continued to gently, almost reverently stroke the length of him. It was an incredible experience, I was touching a grown man's rock hard cock and he was liking it.
Meanwhile he had moved his hand up my leg so he was just touching the head of my cock. Had he stopped there and asked me to come home with him I would have instantly, and done whatever he wanted and this story would have a happy ending, but he didn't stop. In fact what he did next was put his hand directly on my cock and squeeze gently. It felt so wonderful but was a mistake as I instantly came in a great rush, and when he squeezed again I came again, and he did it a couple of more times and each time I ejaculated a load like the first until finally I was totally spent. Sitting there in a post-come sexual daze I realized that this was my first real sexual gratification and that nothing that I had ever experienced before came even close.
Unfortunately at this point things began to go wrong, badly wrong, and it was my fault because I looked down at my kaki pants and saw this huge wet stain that covered my whole crotch. I jumped up and said something like "oh what a mess" in a voice that I am sure was too loud, loud enough to make heads in the bus swivel and enough to spook my companion. He jumped up, pulled the buzzer and immediately got off at the next stop. I was too ashamed to get up with him because of my pants, so just sat there and let him go.
For the rest of the ride home I felt awful knowing that I would never feel his hands on me again and have him do what he just did, never be skin to skin with him and hold that lovely cock, suck that lovely cock and taste his cum.