Gay Erotica
"Russian Roulette for Girls" a sex story by Sonia Ramos
The screen flickers, lighting my face and the darkened bed-sit with a bluish light. I'm dressed in my sexiest gear, legs shaved, perfumed, carefully made up and bejeweled, blond hair falling in perfectly combed curls to my shoulders; nowhere to go, stuck sitting in front of the computer.
Black-mascara-eyes watch little green letters march across the screen as my fingers fly from key to key. Gotta type fast, I'm interested in what the reply will be, egging him on, pushing my own limits too. Being naughty. Daring him, daring me.
Click "Submit." Sit back and wait for an answer. It doesn't take long. He must be typing as fast as I am. The tempo has been increasing since we started to exchange messages, faster, faster. Something between us has clicked, I laugh out loud at his jokes, think he's cool.
"OK. Do you want me to have a shower first? I just had a wank."
Well, maybe not so cool. A pause for a moment to consider, mouth dry, and then I send back the reply. "Yes, please." One of those life-defining moments.
The screen stays blank, no answer. Time to chat with other people, flirt and joke with strangers, try to ignore the crude ones. Messages appear all over the screen, too many to answer, so I shut down, turn off, full of unreleased sexual tension.
I'm just putting the kettle on when the doorbell rings. I'm caught by surprise. Did I really forget that I gave him my address? Or did my subconscious push it right down to the bottom of the pile? It was as if I really needed to do this, but my conscious mind didn't want to admit that - hid it away. Whatever the reason, I find myself hurrying to the door, opening it, like something bigger than me is pushing me along, unstoppable now.
The guy outside is ten inches taller than me, thin and strong without being too muscled. Dark hair. My heart is thumping loud. Nobody ever saw me dressed as a girl before. My first time.
He looks as if he's about to run away, but in the time it takes for him to look me up and down he decides to stay. Thank God for that. Imagine the rejection if he'd legged it after just one look. Now I feel wanted. He has accepted me for who I am.
I stand back from the door, an implicit invitation for him to come in. He shuts it behind him, advances towards me. I'm not sure what to do next, something to break the ice I suppose. Reaching out, I start to unbuckle the chunky leather belt that holds up his jeans, not looking him in the eye, concentrating on the buckle. He doesn't stop me, so I undo the jeans' button and the zipper too. In one movement I put my arms around him, push my hands under the jeans and his boxers at the small of his back. His skin feels warmer than I expected, smooth. I lower myself to my knees, and pull both jeans and boxers down to his ankles. Suddenly, as if by magic, I find myself face to face with a large, erect penis.
Before I can stop myself, it's in my mouth. It's so large that my lips have to stretch to take it in. I'm surprised at how silky soft the skin is, deliciously sensuous. In everything I've ever read or heard about sex, no one ever mentions how soft and tender the skin is on a penis. I just want to keep it warm and wet in my mouth, tongue teasing and testing every smallest part, and then finding another little place to lick again. So I do, but not for too long, don't want things to get out of hand.
Standing up, I grab hold of his hand, and lead him eagerly through my small apartment to the bedroom. So eager that I find myself pulling him along, until I look behind and realize why. His jeans are still around his ankle, and he's having to do a very quick shuffle to keep up, his erection swaying in the air with each hobbled step. We're almost at the bedroom now though, so another quick shuffle and he collapses onto the bed with me, in a heap.
He's on his back, erection pointing straight up, so I straddle him, pushing it down onto his stomach, and move backwards and forwards, just brushing it with my crotch, teasing. He catches the hem of my dress and lifts it over my head, throwing it onto the floor, then reaches down and slips his hand underneath my knickers, to hold on to my bum as I move. His hand is large, and it feels as if he is holding the whole cheek. The warm contact with the palm of his hand sends a sensuous shiver up my spine, almost more intense than the friction of his penis as I rub myself against it.
Impossible to wait any longer, the need to have him inside me is already too much to bear, I reach down and pull my knickers aside, then move my hips up so that the tip of his penis is nudging the entrance, knocking on the door, just squeezing into my hole. I'm just about to sit down hard on him, slip him right inside me with a push, when he says, "Wait." The first word he has said to me.
"It would be better with a condom."
Of course, silly me, I'm getting carried away. I'm sure there's one in the bedside table drawer, so I climb off him, sit on the edge of the bed while I rummage around looking for it. Ah, here it is. I rip the foil with my teeth and pop the rubber into my mouth, then, leaning over him, I push the ring over the head of his penis with my lips and start to extend it down the shaft.
I can hear him groan, and I think "Yessss, he likes that!" as the tip reaches the back of my throat. The last bit, to the hairy bottom, I have to do with my fingers, my lips can't reach that far.
Slowly, I lift my head, maintaining the pressure with my lips all the time as his glistening penis slowly emerges from my mouth. I can hear more groans, so I guess I'm doing the right thing.
He's kneeling on the bed now, so I know what he wants me to do without even asking. I get on my hands and knees and raise my rump as an offering. Positioning himself behind me, he pulls down my panties and, with one hand on the small of my back, pushes the head ever so slightly into the groove that was made for it.
"I'm going to fuck you," he states a fact, and I find it incredibly sexy.
"Yes, go on, go on." I can hear the impatient pleading in my own voice, and I can imagine the smile on his face. That's even sexier. I made a stranger smile.
It hurts. His penis is so large that the first three or four hard thrusts feel as if they are splitting me apart as he stretches my tight hole, never been used before. I squeal, just a little, and then relax into the rhythm, sinking further and further into the bed, further away from reality with each thrust. In another, newer world.
I don't know how it happens, but just at the moment I'm ready to explode and a small defeated moan escapes my lips, I feel him tense and shudder. Maybe it's my little moan that does it, gives him that extra little push over the edge, finishes him off.
While he flushes the used condom down the toilet I light a cigarette, and when he comes back to bed we share it. I make small circles in his chest hair with my painted nail. We don't talk. When we've finished the cigarette we doze for a while. I rest my head on his shoulder, enjoying the sensation of strength that his muscles give me, waiting. I haven't finished yet.
My hand strays down to his balls and starts to tickle the sac. When I lower my head to take him into my mouth again, he is already quite hard, and as I suck it gets larger and larger, growing in my mouth as if I was giving it life. I'm moving my head up and down, trying to give him the rhythm he needs, but he stops me.
Instead, he pushes himself up onto his side holding my head still with his hands and pushes his penis into my open mouth. Slowly he starts to thrust, deep into my throat, until I feel as if I am going to gag, and I have to grab hard onto the base of his penis to stop him from thrusting all the way in. Thrusting faster and faster he says "You're my little whore aren't you? You suck so well."
I try to say "Yes," but I can't because my mouth is full of his straining cock, so I nod my head instead, but that doesn't work very well either, he's pounding so hard. And then my mouth is full of his warm semen, and without even thinking about it, I swallow it down.
We doze off again afterwards, and then he wakes, with a start, says he has to go.
After he has shut the door behind him I sit and smoke one of the cigarettes he gave me, a smile on my face. I do feel better now, the future is clearer.
I wish he'd told me his name, though.
Originally published August 2006 - "Sweat"