On Friday night I was in a gay club with my lesbian girlfriends. We go for the music, the dancing, and to pick up hot women. I’m a girly girl and this is the perfect place to meet the domme type that I’m frequently attracted to.
Once the music gets me high, the trouble begins. I don’t really drink but I get a huge endorphin buzz from dancing and I am a wicked flirt. I love the wild free-for-all atmosphere and I’ll dance with anyone who has the moves to keep up with me.
So it wasn’t that unusual to find myself on one of the podiums, grinding on this cute guy wearing shorts so tight they looked like they’d been sprayed on. I’d seen him around before. His name’s Rafael, and aside from the inconvenient fact of him being gay he’s exactly my type: Hispanic, with caramel skin, lean muscles and messy curls.
It wasn’t even that strange to feel Raf getting hard as he ground against my ass, either. Bodies are bodies, and the adrenaline charge that comes from dancing in a club full of hot, sweaty people in skimpy clothes has everyone feeling sexually hyperactive.
It was a little unexpected when Raf took my hand and led me down off the podium, wrapped his arms around me and started kissing me, though. I was momentarily taken aback, but he’s a sexy guy and a great kisser, so I kissed him back, feeling his erection pressing against me.
Lust surged through me as Raf’s hips circled to the beat, his cock throbbing against me. I could smell his cologne and fresh sweat, feel the heat coming off him. I was ridiculously horny. This was confusing.
I pulled back a little. “Hey, I thought you were gay?” I asked.
“I am,” he grinned. “Well, mostly. Does it bother you?”
“No,” I smiled back. “Me too. Mostly… how long is it since you’ve been with a woman?”
“About four years.”
“How long since you’ve been with a guy?”
He thought for a moment, then grinned. “About six hours.”
I have no idea why this turned me on so much. [*Actually I do. See below if you’re interested]. I know a lot of straight girls flatter themselves they could ‘turn’ a gay man, but it wasn’t that at all; I have friends of all orientations and I’m not vain enough to believe everyone on the planet has to be into me (although in an ideal world, obviously…). No, it was more that I was suddenly picturing him with his boyfriends, thinking about all those hard, male bodies together.
Raf and I kissed again, his hands sliding down to my ass, pulling me harder against him. I was shivering with how much I wanted him.
“Shall we take this somewhere a little more private?” I asked. “I feel like everyone’s staring at us.”
“That’s because you’re a notorious lesbian heartbreaker and everyone knows I’m queer, querida! But yes, let’s get out of here — I want you naked and under me!”
“Oh, so you’re a bossy top? I never would have guessed.”
“I’ll have you know I can be very… masterful.” He growled the last word into my ear for emphasis, and even though he spoilt the macho effect by winking naughtily, it sent another shiver of lust through me.
Raf kissed and groped me unrestrainedly throughout the brief cab ride to his place, and as soon as we got inside he led me to his bedroom, the walls of which were plastered with homoerotic art that did nothing to dispel my arousal. He put some music on, a sexy Latin beat that took the mood down from frantic to sultry.
“You ever dance salsa, Rose?”
“Sure, I know a few steps…”
He took my hand and we started to move together, perfectly attuned to each other’s body. His dark eyes were fixed on mine, hypnotic. He unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor, peeled off my top, kissed down my neck and arched me backward to suck my nipples. Steering me towards the bed, he guided me onto my back and straddled me; I wrapped my legs around him and we made out like horny teenagers, kissing and dry humping and feeling each other up. Only my skimpy panties and his sprayed-on shorts acted as a thin barrier between us. The heat and friction felt incredible.
Raf slid a hand down between our bodies to rub me through my sodden underwear. It usually takes penetration to get me off, but I was so aroused the pressure of his fingers sent shocks of intense pleasure through me. When he rolled off me slightly, tugged my panties down and plunged three fingers into my creamed-up pussy, I came almost instantly, clinging onto him through the spasms of my orgasm.
I gazed up at Raf, shivering through the aftershocks. His pupils were so blown with lust his eyes looked almost black. Handsome. I wanted to taste him.
“Tell me what you did with your boyfriend this afternoon,” I said. “I want all the details.”
For a moment he looked surprised; then grinned delightedly as my hand began to slide down his chest towards his stomach. I followed my hand with my mouth, licking the taut muscles of his abdomen, then tracing the sparse trail of dark hair that led to his tented-out shorts. He groaned appreciatively, and began to speak.
“He only had an hour between shifts, so we didn’t have time to fuck. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me, I could feel his hard cock rubbing against mine… dios mio…!” Raf broke off to gasp as I gripped him through his shorts. “He pushed both our pants down, spat on his hand and stroked us both together… I was so hard… fuck!” I pulled his shorts off, letting his rigid cock spring free. His cock was as pretty as the rest of him.
“Do continue!” I purred, sliding my hand around his shaft with a corkscrew motion that made him buck his hips up. He laughed breathlessly, trying to pick up the thread of his thoughts.
“I knelt down to suck him. I’m a little cockslut just like you, Rose… Oh, dios, sí!” As he spoke, I licked around the shiny head of his cock, already leaking, then took it a little way into my mouth. “He tasted good… I sucked him hard and then I stayed still and he pulled my hair and fucked my mouth… fuck… that’s good…” Raf’s hips started rocking up, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, and I knew it was picturing himself on his knees to his boyfriend as much of the sensation of me sucking him that was making him lose control. I slid my lips down another inch, my tongue lapping at the underside of his shaft, making him groan and curse in Spanish. Sucking cock turns me on like nothing else, and I could feel wetness tricking down my inner thighs as I savored making this beautiful man writhe and moan, building up the strokes of my mouth to a strong, steady rhythm.
“Rose, stop… I don’t wanna cum until I’ve fucked you,” he groaned brokenly, pulling me up to kiss him. “Jesucristo, you give a blowjob as good as any boy I know.” I took that as the outrageous compliment it was intended to be.
“I’d like to watch you with one of your boyfriends, Raf,” I said. “I’ll bet you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth…” He closed his eyes and I smiled as I watched him struggle to regain control. When he opened them again, his look was so dark and lust-fuelled I started to shake.
“You want it hard, Rose? Wanna get pounded like a bad little boy?” I nodded, breathless with anticipation. Raf rolled on top of me again, stroked his cockhead between my juice-slick lips and thrust into my soaked pussy without preamble. He was big, and rock hard; it felt incredible as it stretched me open and filled me up. He grabbed my hips to adjust the angle so he could slam into me even deeper and harder, gazing down at me with the most voracious expression.
“Tu coño es tan caliente… I forgot how good pussy could feel… dios!” Having a sexy guy speaking Spanish to me as he fucked me into the mattress pushed so many of my buttons at once I was totally overloaded. He pulled almost all the way out on each stroke so the head of his cock skated over my G-spot with each thrust back in. The pressure built insistently, spiralling through me until I wrapped my legs even tighter around his waist and came, hard.
Raf fucked me right through my orgasm with impressive control, then pulled out and turned me over, pinning me down flat with his legs either side of mine, the whole length of his hard, sinuous body pressed against me. When he thrust back into my pussy the fit was even tighter; he stayed deep and ground slowly, his fingers on my clit, his lips against my ear, urging me on in a filthy blend of English and Spanish until I was a shivering mess beneath him. As I came, his weight pinning me flat made the sensations even more intense, his hot load spurting out against my sensitive inner walls as I screamed out in ecstasy.
Raf held me tight as we drifted in and out of sleep, and in the morning we showered together and had sleepy morning sex. He wanted to take me to brunch but I already had a date with my girlfriends, so he drove me to the restaurant but was too shy to come in and say hello (very wise, they would have eaten him alive).
“How come you’re so sweet and considerate? You’d be the perfect boyfriend, if only you weren’t gay,” I told him as we kissed goodbye.
“Rose, I’ll be your gay boyfriend for the night any time you want,” he replied, not entirely joking.
I went in to join my girlfriends, trying not to look too much like the cat that got the cream, and evidently failing.
“Hey Rose, so I thought Rafael was gay?” one of them asked.
“Yes, he is.”
“Well…” I shrugged. And changed the subject.
Thinking back, I do have an idea why the idea of pretty boys together turns me on so much, what planted the seed of that particular kink. As a young teenager, when I was already writing stories and preparing for exams that would get me onto a journalism degree course, I had a very progressive English teacher who used to recommend books to me that were definitely not on the school curriculum. One of them, Edmund White’s classic “A Boy’s Own Story,” made a powerful and lasting impression, not only for the brilliance of the writing, but for the beautifully graphic description of boy-boy sex and longing. I was hooked.
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More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe have a cold shower first…