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Home | Hood Tales | Dions First Time
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Dions First Time by William Weaver Jr.

His name was Mike. He was six foot one inch of dark chocolate goodness. Many nights I lay alone in bed and fantasized about grabbing his fat, firm ass as he holds my legs back and pounded my virgin ass in a way that only he could. I would wake up sticky with sweat and love juice, all the more frustrated that I would never know what he felt like inside of me.

I am 5'11", 175 pounds with short black hair and smooth caramel brown skin. Even though I was still a vigin and just forming my gay personality, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a the type of thugged out, masculine cat that I tried to surround myself with to throw me down and take my fresh ass, pounding me like there was no tommorow while I begged him to fuck me harder. Mike was all of this and so much more. The way his jeans always seemed to ride on his ass, underwear down revealing his sweaty crack. I could imagine the heat that would radiate from his tight hole as I pushed my face deep between his cheeks and tasted his sweet ass. The moans that my thug would make as I plunged my slippery tounge deep into his asshole and worked it like it was the last ass on Earth.

I finally got my chance one hot summer afternoon. After lusting after him for so long, I was introduced to Mike by a mutual friend. The three of us spent the day together smoking weed, playing video games and just generaly goofing off. I found myself constantly trying to wrestle with Mike, and when he would wrestle back, my hands would always find his ass or end up carressing his dick, which jumped in excitement whenever I touched it. After one particularly intense three-way wrestling session, Will, my friend, announced that he was running to the store for some more soda and asked if anyone wanted anything. After we both declined, Mike and I went into the house and plopped down on the couch. Grabbing the remote, I turned on the TV and began flipping channels. I'd rotated the channels three times when Mike grabbed the remote from me. I reached to grab it back and he held out his hand, stopping me. We began wrestling again, this time on the floor of the living room. I found myself pinned under Mike, a posistion that I have dreamed about being in on many occasions. I gave up the struggle and allowed Mike to control me. His firm grasp on my thin wrists was a huge turn on and before I knew it, I was hard. Noticing my predicament, Mike laughed and slapped me in the face.

"You like this shit don't you?" he demanded of me.

"Uh..." I didn't know how to react. I so wanted this to go farther, but....

"So do you or not?" he asked again, pressing down on my arms harder and inching up onto my chest. I could see his package in a direct line with my

 
 

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