I've never been the type to be shy or quiet when it comes to meeting other boys. I don't know whether or not that's a positive thing, but as far as my sex drive goes, it definitely satisfies my needs. Now, most people know that with gay men one needs to be the pitcher and the other the catcher. My preference, due to many experiences has always been the catcher. As weird as it may sound, I have no desire to thrust or go anywhere near an asshole for that matter. I've done it a few times but couldn't get off from it. When I would go out, at least, in the past, my mind would only really be on one thing. Shortly after breaking up with Jacob, I was a total mess. I tried going out to meet other people, hoping that I would be able to get over him by moving on. He was my first relationship and second person I had ever had sex with. The sex we had was great, but being as that was pretty much all I had known, I hadn't experienced too much. The type of guy that I found myself drooling over, and for the life of me couldn't understand how anybody couldn't, was the taller, muscular type guy who didn't act like the stereotypical gay man at all. It was on a Thursday that I met Art. My friends and I had been hanging out that evening, perusing through all of the men of Southern, back when it was tolerable. I picked him out of the group he was in and asked my friends what they thought of him. The first thing we all noticed was his arms. Perfectly sculpted as if from an artist himself, just the sight of them made me melt. Not wanting to abandon my friends, nor interrupt his conversation, we walked on. We passed him more than once that night, always looking up to see if his attention had been directed our way. I caught him looking a couple times, and we made eye contact on both occasions. Later on that night, as it was nearing closing, my friends had decided that it was late and they were going to head out. Not wanting to leave yet, hoping that I may be able to have some fun, I stayed behind and walked around. I've never understood why, but it always seems like the most unattractive people have the highest self esteem. The moment my friends headed out the door, Randy (yes, I remember his name, just because I'm amazing like that) comes up to me and introduces himself. Playing stupid, I pretend like I had lost my friends and avoiding making eye contact with him. As I was looking around, I noticed Art walking in my direction. Thinking it was my chance to meet him, I grab him by the arm and make it look, at least to Randy, like I found the person whom I had been searching for. I start to talk to Art as if we'd been friends, and Randy, realizing that I was no longer even facing him, walked away. After he left, Art and I introduced ourselves and made small talk. He had been drinking, but I didn't care. We talk back and forth for about fifteen minutes or so, with me mostly complimenting his gorgeous body unlike any I've ever seen. It gets to the point of him asking what I had planned for the night, and of course knowing what I wanted, I suggest to him that I didn't have any. He asks if I'd be interested in going back to his place, and trying not to sound to eager, I question his motives. He tells me he has drinks at his place and since I obviously couldn't drink at Southern that I'd be able to have some. I play coy, not wanting to sound desparate, and stall for a little while. I had never hooked up with anyone before, but I was definitely willing to do it with this man. He's played this game many times, so he knew exactly what I was doing. Apparently I was just what he was looking for, because he wasn't going to give up that easily. He lifted up his shirt to show me his incredible stomach, and at the same time, grabbed my hand and lead it towards his body. Thinking he was just going to make me feel how hard his abs were, I didn't bother to resist. I was right, in thinking of what he was doing, but it didn't stop there. Standing in the club, in plain view, he pushes my hand down his pants, and allows me to feel his already hard dick. Easily getting my full attention at this point, I ask him where he lives. Seeing my reaction change so quickly, he then decides to tell me he has a boyfriend. At first, like anyone, I was very disappointed. After getting my hopes up and then shooting them down, I was pretty upset. Watching my expression change, he then tells me that he has an open relationship and that he's allowed to have sex with other boys, but only once. As excited as anyone could be, I ask him when we can go. He looks at me blankly for a moment, then starts to head for the door. We walk out together, and he asks what I drive. I point in the direction of my car, and he tells me to follow him. We get to his house, and he suggests being quiet, due to the fact his boyfriend is sleeping across the hall. We get into his bedroom and make way for the bed. Not ever having done this before, I'm not sure what to expect or how it really works. I would think that there would be some sort of informal conversation making it's way into foreplay and then sex, but seeing as how Art was drunk and apparently horny, he went straight for the ass. He walked up behind me and kissed my neck, lifting my shirt up and over my head. I start to turn around as he grabs his own shirt and takes it off. My eyes go immediately to his pecs, as huge as they were, and stare directly at them. He grabs my waist and starts to kiss me, holding me strongly and taking control. This is exactly what I had always imagined whenever I had thought of sex with another man. While the sex with Jacob was good, we were both, for the most part, submissive and were always asking each other which position we wanted or what we wanted to do. Not with Art. He knew exactly what he wanted to do and I wasn't going to be the one to get in his way. I hate thinking during sex and having to focus on what I want. I always wanted to just be moved the way he wanted or given the position to be in. Getting focus back from glaring at his body, I reached my hands down to his belt and started to undo it. He pulled me closer as I was doing so, and started to kiss me again, making it difficult to remove his jeans without being able to see what I was doing. I finally got them off, and right as they dropped he went for mine. Both standing there in just our underwear, making out, I kind of felt awkward. Knowing that his boyfriend was just across the hall, possibly wondering why Art hadn't went into his bedroom yet, was kind of unnerving. At the same time though, it made it all the more thrillsome. To me, what we were doing would never have been tolerated. Never could I imagine my partner fooling around with other people, even if it was just one time. Breaking away from his forceful grasp, I made my way to the bed. He followed behind me, and as we got closer he put his arms around me again. I turned around to face him and layed down on the bed. He climbed over me and started to kiss me again. All I could think about was when he was going to finally take his underwear off and the fun would begin. Not long after those thoughts passed through my mind did I build up enough courage to reach down and take them off for him. As I pulled them down and off his legs, I could feel his dick fall down and land on my stomach. As it poked into me and as we were kissing, in my head I was going crazy. After he was completely naked, he realized that I wasn't. He made his way down to the only piece of clothing left I had on, and abruptly removed them. He wasn't much for foreplay, Art, but I didn't care. Getting head never really did anything for me, but giving it was definitely a turn on. Unfortunately though, it seemed he wasn't interested in getting any, because he reached for the condoms as soon as we were both bare. Until this point I was unable to actually see his dick. It was so dark in his room and there was no light coming from outside that I had only been able to see it in the shadow. As he stood there, opening the condom, my eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and I caught a glance of a dick much bigger than Jacobs. Surprisingly to me, I had always expected very muscular men to have the story told small penis, but obviously that was wrong. From head to toe it seemed like there was not an ounce of body fat on this man, and he was certainly endowed. Once the condom was as on as he could get it, he went for the lube. Anxiously waiting for him to make his way in to me, all I could think about was how good it was going to feel. It had been a while since the last time I had sex, so I knew that I was going to be tight. There were many times when Jacob and I would have sex and because we did it so much that for both of us it wasn't anything exciting. This time was going to be good, though. Because I hadn't been that tight in a long time, I had forgotten what it felt like for someone to put it in. I knew that it might hurt a little, but the only thing that had to be done was just a quick removal and a couple of seconds before putting it back in. He lathered up the condom with whatever brand of lube he had and set the tube aside. As he was ready to go, using his massive arms, he pulled me to the edge of the bed. From what I've learned, it seems like most guys like to start out in missionary and then if needed to change positions. In this, Art was no different. It's the most comfortable position and easiest to get used to. He grabbed his dick and moved the head of it towards what it would soon be filling. Once he found it, he slowly started to push it in. I was right, at first it did sting a little. It could have been because of how big he was, or just because it had been so long, but either way I told him to wait a minute before going back in. He bent over to kiss me while he waited for me to tell him it was ok, but didn't even reach my lips before I told him to go ahead. Once he was back inside, he started to push it in deeper. Holding my legs up and staring into my eyes, he inched it in, slowly. I could feel it inside me, stretching me more than I had ever been before. Not too long after he entered was he all the way in. Deep inside me, he throbbed it, knowing that it felt good to the person he was fucking. He pulled it all the way to the tip and started to thrust. Art was a very strong man, and this was everything that I wanted. Not having to think or tell him what I wanted was great. It was almost like he knew, which because he was older, I'm sure he did. It hurt at first, mostly because since he was so big, and he was going so deep inside me, that he was hitting a barrier. The first few thrusts stung, but they stopped, so I didn't say anything. I lay back, enjoying every minute of what was happening, never having experienced it like this before. He got tired of missionary fast, and told me to lay on my stomach. He got on top of me and bear hugged me, pushing his dick into me again. With his arms holding on to me, I could feel his hips thrusting against mine, and it felt amazing. I turned my head towards his and arched my neck so that we could kiss. Him focusing so much on thrusting, he didn't seem too interested in making the connection. As I turned back away, he started thrusting harder, and I reached for his hands and held onto them, breathing more and more deeply. At one point, I am sure it must have hurt him as I squeezed his hands out of pure pleasure, but he didn't seem to care. Climbing off of me, and pulling me onto my side, he kissed my neck and continued to thrust. Still with his grasp holding onto me, I was loving every minute of it. In and out he was going, the girth of his dick at least an entire handful and then length of at least nine inches. I remember it well, mostly because even though he was only allowed to have sex once with other boys, we did it twice. The only downside to this experience was that because his boyfriend was in the other room, we had to be quiet. Typically, I would have been louder and shown my pleasure in a different way, but because of this, I could only breathe harder. As he pumped, harder and faster, I realized that at some point he was going to explode. Not really wanting it to end, I continued with the silent moaning and just hoped that it would last a while longer. We stayed with that position, on our sides, for quite some time before he switched it up one last time. Pulling it all the way out was the only thing that didn't feel good, but the feeling of putting it back in made up for it. We went back to the position we started in, but this time with him on his knees and my legs resting on them. This was my favorite position, mostly because it was the perfect angle for him to hit the exact spot that is the key to finishing. Grabbing onto my waist, he pushed back into me, and pulled it all the way out to just the head. He did this a couple times, then went back to normal. Holding onto his arms as he thrusted was the best feeling. He was hitting the spot, which wasn't hard for him to do at all, due to his size. What turned me on even more was that his arms were perfect. Feeling his muscles twitch as he kept going made it so much better. I had the perfect view of the most gorgeous man, all the while he was pounding away. As he gathered speed I knew it must have been close. He was going harder now, and he was back to going all the way in. I thought about it, his dick, as it moved in and out. I could feel him inside me and could feel it throbbing as it was getting ready to shoot. He kept going, though, longer, as if he didn't want to finish. He bent over to kiss me just before he came. Our lips made contact just as he made the final thrusts, filling the condom with his cum. We continued to kiss as he left it inside, still hard and still throbbing. The worst part was about to come, and that was him pulling out of me with no intention of going back. We broke away and he pulled out, the condom full and ready to fall off. Laying there for a moment, completely satisfied by what had just happened. My legs were shaking, and I've never been able to explain why. I guess it could be from the thrill and excitement of the experience, and the fact that they were tired from being in the same place for so long. We made our way into the bathroom and cleaned ourselves up. All I could do was stare at his body, thinking to myself that I couldn't wait to brag about the hottest guy ever who I had just got done fucking, or letting fuck me. The night was over at this point, and I definitely couldn't stay. I put my clothes back on and we talked for a bit before I headed out. The ride home was slightly uncomfortable, but it was worth it. At this point not knowing that I was going to get a round two, I was kind of upset that it was over.