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I woke up at seven in the morning the next day to Carson snoring loudly. He was lying flat on his back, and though I wished I was still asleep, I didn’t want to wake him up. I thought back to the night before, when he popped my cherry. More than the feeling of pleasure I’d felt, I more cherished how safe I felt with him. He hadn’t taken control of me, but rather lead me through everything, reassuring me at every step. He pushed me out of my comfort zone, holding my hand the whole way. Plus, he pushed into my comfort zone, too, which felt amazing.

Since I was up, I decided to surprise him with a morning surprise. In my experience, it’s been a surprise that every man I’ve ever slept with has appreciated, and in many cases it’s what kept them coming back for more. They wake up, and the first thing they see is me bringing them pleasure. Really, it’s all men want first thing in the morning — the perfect wake-up call. That’s right — I got him donuts.

Getting out of bed, I immediately noticed how sore my ass was. I felt like I was waddling around like a penguin. The feeling was hard to describe — even though he was asleep in the other room, snoring away, it almost still felt like he was in me.

I took Carson’s truck to the local donut shop. Though we’d never gotten donuts together, I knew Carson liked the strawberry frosted ones the most. I, on the other hand, was a total slut for a chocolate glazed. I got a half dozen assorted donuts and headed back to Carson’s.

I walked in the kitchen and started brewing some coffee. As I prepared, Carson walked into the kitchen in his briefs. “Good morning,” I said, pouring him a fresh cup.

“Morning,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t like waking up to an empty bed.”

“Well, look what I got,” I said, and grabbed the box of donuts from where I was hiding them.

“No fucking way,” Carson said, laughing. “You’re a genius.”

“I got your favorite, strawberry frosted,” I said.

“Babe, you didn’t have to do that,” he said. “You’re too sweet.”

“Hey, I was hungry, it wasn’t all about you,” I said, grabbing one of my chocolate donuts.

“Thank you,” he said, and kissed me with a mouthful of food. We sat at his counter. His kitchen was beautiful, as expected of a custom home builder. The kitchen had grey marble countertops speckled with streaks of black rock and gold flakes, and white cabinets. The island was large, and had six bar stools, enough room to host a whole breakfast party. It seemed remarkably clean, too — Carson was a tidy guy.

“What do you have going on later today?” I asked.

“I have rugby practice,” he said. “We meet on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” I said.

“Keeps me active,” Carson said. “And it’s a good group of guys. You have any plans?”

“Probably just relaxing,” I said. “I’m a little sore from last night.”

Carson chuckled. “I had a lot of fun,” he said, scarfing down a bite of donut. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I was pretty nervous going in,” I admitted, “But it was awesome. I had fun, too.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”

We talked a bit more and finished off the whole box of donuts. Then Carson had to go to practice, so he got dressed and drove me home. He walked me to my door and kissed me goodbye, and I watched him drive away. I hear about other people’s first time bottoming stories sometimes and they say that it was awkward, or didn’t go right, or was just okay. In that moment, I stopped to appreciate how kind and loving Carson was to me and my body. It had been nothing less than perfect.

The rest of the day was a wash. I had exhausted myself the day before with all of my excitement, and my legs were still feeling sore and weird throughout the day. Before bed, I almost didn’t shower because I was afraid the feel of Carson on my skin would wash away. After I did, though, I realized I had nothing to worry about. Carson had texted me while I was in the shower. “Thanks again for the great time last night and always. It’s been really special. :*” His love wasn’t just on my skin, but in my heart.


Monday was largely uneventful. Carson was vocal about how he hated Mondays. He said that he always felt like the least got done on job sites on Mondays because everyone was still waking up from the weekend. I was always low energy on Mondays, too. The one bright side was working next to Carson all day — being near his body put a bit more energy into me.

Carson seemed pretty defeated at the end of that day, and I was feeling a bit horny. I got off work and went home and showered, and prepared for sex, too. I didn’t bother Carson, but my soreness had completely worn off, and I was eager to take him again.

After preparing, I laid on my bed naked and decided to call him, hoping he was in the mood. I video chatted him, and he picked up. “What’s up, babe?” he said, sounding a bit tired.

“Nothing, just checking on you,” I said. “I wanted to hear almanbahis your voice.”

I saw Carson smile softly. “Well, I’m always happy to hear from you. Just been a long day.”

“Did anything happen?”

“They just thought they ordered the wrong cabinets for a kitchen at a site, so I had to go over there and help them figure it out,” Carson said. “I’m only now headed home.”

“Oh, that sucks,” I said. “I wish I could help make your day better.”

“Just hearing from you makes it better,” he said. “And seeing your cute face. Did you just get out of the shower?” He said, noticing my wet hair and bare chest.

“Yeah, I did,” I said. “Just haven’t put clothes on yet.”

“Oh?” Carson said, a little intrigued. I panned my phone up and showed him me lying naked on my bed. I wiggled my ass a bit, poking it up.

“I just can’t decide what to wear,” I said cheekily.

“I think you look great just like that,” he said.

“Yeah?” I said and brought the camera back up to my face. “Well, I should probably get dressed.”

“Let’s not be hasty now,” Carson said, smiling. “Do you want me to come over?”

“If you want,” I said. “Though I know you’ve had a long day.”

“Maybe it can be a little longer,” he said. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“See you soon,” I said, and hung up. I quickly cleaned up my apartment as best I could, which mostly involved shoving dirty clothes into my closet. I heard a knock on my door, wrapped myself in a towel, and went to answer it.

“Hey,” I said, opening the door. Carson was standing there, and I watched his eyes scan down my almost naked body, then back up to my eyes. Without a word, he kissed me, and as we kissed we shut the door. As soon as it was closed and locked, I dropped my towel.

“Let me see that ass,” he said, and I lead him into the bedroom. I bent over the side of the bed and he wasted no time digging his face in between my asscheeks. His scruffy beard scratched against my ass as he ate me out. I felt a higher level of aggression with him that time. Our first time, he had gone so nice and slow with me, which I was grateful for, but I certainly was also a fan of the more animalistic side he was showing now. The way his tongue on my hole made me feel, I didn’t mind giving in to him a little.

He pulled me up into a kiss, then sent me to my knees to suck his cock. I felt him relax as his hand stroked through my hair and I ran my tongue around the head of his thick cock. My jaw stretched a bit as I opened wide to get him in my mouth as deep as I could. “Fuck, Blake, I needed this,” he said. I looked up at him and flirtatiously winked while I serviced his dick.

After a couple minutes of me sucking his cock, he pushed me onto my back on the edge of the bed and pushed my legs up in the air. His mouth went straight to my dick, and he sucked me for a moment. I got dangerously close, though, as I felt his fingers massaging my hole as he sucked me in that position. “Stop sucking, I won’t last,” I whispered, and instead Carson happily used his tongue on my hole again. His fingers slid into me easier this time, and I was glad once again that I’d prepared.

“I want you in me,” I said, feeling loose enough to try.

“Fuck yeah,” Carson moaned. He kissed me, and I got out a condom and some lube, and prepared for him to fuck me missionary.

It took us a moment for him to get into my hole, which still was getting with the whole bottoming program, but the whole process went much quicker this time. My body had learned to relax the last time, and with someone I trusted as much as Carson, he was prodding my prostate and fucking steadily within five minutes.

Sex with Carson was great not just because of his physical expertise, but his sensory mastery as well. He satisfied and pleased so many of my senses at once. His bearish grunts and hearty chuckle aroused my ears, making my brain melt every time he made a pleased sound. The salty taste of his skin lingered on my tongue. My skin savored the ways his hands ran over my body and bathed in his body heat. His fur on my fingers was soft and full, as I wanted to feel his pelt in every way. His smell was intoxicating, as his cologne and sweat mixed to create his manly musk, which invaded my nose and disarmed me.

After a couple minutes of him hitting my prostate with machine-like consistency, I barely touched myself before I shot all over my chest. Seeing me moan and shoot my load must have excited Carson, too, because soon after he pulled out, shed the rubber, and jerked off onto my face. I stuck my tongue out and managed to catch several meaty drops of his cum in my mouth.

Catching our breaths, Carson collapsed next to me on my bed. “Sorry we made a mess,” he said, giggling a little.

“No problem,” I said. “That was awesome.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” Carson said, kissing me. “Any pain?”

“Might be a little sore, but much easier this time,” I said, glad that he was so caring.

“Good,” he said. We lay there for a moment, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s naked presence. “You almanbahis giriş want to grab dinner?”

“Sure,” I said.

“We better go, then, or places will close,” Carson said. He slapped my thigh and sat up.

He helped me clean all the cum off my body and we both washed our faces, then went out for dinner. Carson took me to a Chinese place I’d been meaning to try out, and we split a big plate of chicken.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” I said as we ate.


“You seemed grumpy earlier.”

“I was just thinking that,” he said. “I’ll tell you what made the difference, though. It wasn’t the sex,” he said, whispering the last word, “It’s this. Just getting to sit down and eat with you.”

“I’m glad I could help,” I said. “Next time we’ll just skip the sex and just eat.”

Carson laughed. “Hey, now, I never said that didn’t help too,” he said. “You’ve just been great.”

“You too,” I said. I wasn’t good at expressing myself at the time, but I wish I had been. I wish I’d been mature enough to tell Carson what an impact he’s had on my life. I’d dated Danny, who was nice, but Carson was my first real adult relationship. He taught me what it really meant to love someone. He taught me the difference between fucking and making love. Most importantly, though, it was the first time I really felt loved and appreciated by a man romantically. Later in life, in relationships, I notice when I’m not feeling that way, and have learned that that’s what satisfies me more than anything.

He drove me home after we ate. “There’s a picnic concert in a park in my neighborhood this Friday, if you want to come,” Carson said.

“Sounds like a date,” I said, and kissed him as I got out of his truck.


Work the rest of the week was the same as usual. I really enjoyed this week because Carson’s realtor, Jessica, came by the office several times, and she answered a lot of questions I had about real estate. She was impressed that I was working with a contractor that summer, and she said what I learned here would serve me well as a realtor myself one day.

That Friday, Carson and I had a light day at work, so we wrapped up early, and I went home to get ready. When I got home, I went to the gym, and I was getting pretty sick of this apartment building gym. I decided I’d start looking for a real gym that weekend.

When I got back to my apartment, I got a call from Danny, who was following through on us remaining friends after our breakup. “Hey,” he said with his signature electric tone. “What’s up?”

We caught up, and I told him everything about Carson and me. “You bottomed? Damn, how was it?”

“I’m a big fan,” I said, laughing. “Takes some getting used to, though.”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “I’m happy to hear it’s going well.” Danny then told me how things were going with the men at his lifeguarding job. He worked as a lifeguard at a country club, and he’d said some of the dads had been flirting with him and complimenting him on his speedo. Well, he’d since found out that there was a group of three or four dads at the club who played with each other while their wives were away, and they were always looking for hot young men at the pool to join them. Danny had been to two of their houses, and they added him to a group chat where they talked in code about their meetings. Danny said it often got confusing, though, because they referred to everything in golf terms, but sometimes they were actually meeting to play golf. Regardless, he was having a blast.

“Sounds like you’re having some fun, too,” I said. “Do you feel good about us taking a break?”

“I do. I was thinking that we’re young enough to take a break and find our way back to each other, if that’s what’s meant to happen,” Danny said.

“Me too,” I said.

“Hey, by the way,” Danny said. “Skyler and Kas are coming up to stay with me next weekend. I know you probably can’t get off work, but if you wanted to come, we could all hit the beach together.”

“Damn, that sounds like fun! I’ll ask Carson,” I said. Skyler and Kas were our friends from school.

“Cool,” Danny said. “Alright, I know you have a date to head to, and I have to work a birthday party tonight. It’s nice talking to you, Blake.”

“You too,” I said. “I’m glad you’re in my life.”

“Don’t get sappy,” Danny laughed. “But right back at you.”

“Okay, bye!” I said, and hung up. I got ready for my date — I put on a nice collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. I felt a little bad that all my date night outfits were so similar to my work clothes, but I didn’t have much else. As I waited for Carson to pick me up, I called my family, and told them about my awesome job. I’ve never told them about dating Carson that summer because I thought they’d judge me.


Carson picked me up, and he was wearing a patterned button-down almanbahis yeni giriş short-sleeve shirt and some jean shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned a few down, and I was slightly turned on by seeing his sexy chest poke out.

He drove me to a park near his neighborhood. Near a large tree, they’d set up a stage with plenty of speakers. In front of the stage, on the grass, probably five hundred people had laid out blankets and were sharing food and laughs.

Carson had packed a whole picnic for us. I helped him lay out a blanket, and as the sun began to set, we ate and talked. “I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” he said. “I’m not the best cook.”

“I love peanut butter and jellies,” I said. He also had packed some chips and drinks for us. As we drank a beer, the band started to play. They were called The Flat Tire Band, and everyone in it looked at least sixty. They played covers of old rock hits like Sweet Caroline and Dixieland Delight, though I was surprised when they played Uptown Funk. The music was nice, and Carson invited me to dance with him a bit. He was a good dancer, despite his bulky build. Though his moves weren’t always graceful, they always impressed because of his confidence and how fun he looked like he was having.

A bit of the way through the concert, a couple of Carson’s neighbors came up to us and talked. “Rosie, Donald, this is Blake, my boyfriend,” Carson said to introduce me. Hearing him call me his boyfriend made my heart warm.

As we danced and the sun sunk into the treeline, I realized how few people around us seemed to be bothered by two men dancing together. I’d always been a bit nervous to be publicly gay, especially in the south. But as I enjoyed my time with Carson, I realized that the people around us didn’t really care, and that I didn’t care what they thought, either. I was having to much fun with Carson to worry about anyone else.

We talked as we danced. We both were playful, making fun of the way each other were dancing. Classic country rock was the background for our conversations. Carson told me about how he was frustrated with his sister, who he thought was irresponsible. I told him I was sick of my apartment gym, and he offered to set me up at his golf club, which had a great gym. I told him it was too kind, but he said it was no problem, and he was allowed guests. I also told him about Danny, and that he’d wanted me to visit next weekend. Carson told me I could take Friday off, and that he’d even fly me to the airport. He was great.

Dusk came, and the concert kept going as the North Carolina fireflies came out. Carson and I snuggled on our picnic blanket, me lying on his chest, as we watched the first stars emerge in the night sky. “Hey,” I said to Carson. “I like when you call me your boyfriend.”

Carson hugged me. “Yeah?”


“I’ve been wanting to ask you,” Carson said. “I mean, I know you’re young and hot, so I don’t want to scare you, but…” he seemed a bit nervous. “I didn’t know if you wanted to be exclusive.”

I thought for a moment. I’d been exclusive with Danny, and I didn’t find that commitment challenging. I’ve known other people who have been unfaithful in their relationships, but I’ve been lucky in most of mine. If my sexual needs and my emotional needs are met, I typically don’t think of other guys, and if my needs aren’t met, we don’t last long as a couple, anyways. “Sure,” I said. “I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

Laying on his chest, I felt him sigh in relief. “Good,” he said. “Me too.”

We continued to lie on each other, even after the band stopped playing. People filed out of the park, but we were enjoying the stars and each other too much. We combatted the chill of the summer nights with each other for warmth, the cool air bringing relief from the humid stickiness on our skin. Finally, a police officer came by and told us the park was closing, and we got up and went back to Carson’s.

We were both exhausted. Carson hopped in the shower, then I did, too. I’d brought a pair of pajamas in a small bag, and we crawled in bed together. “Want to watch a little TV?” Carson asked.

The blue light from the late night Law and Order cast over us, and for a while we watched, snuggling up against each other. When the second episode of the night started, I noticed a soft snore coming from Carson. I looked over at his peaceful, sleeping face, and I could have sworn he slept with a soft smile on his lips. I quietly turned off the TV and snuggled up next to him. Looking back, some people would have been offended that he fell asleep without us having sex. I know I’ve been writing about some of our steamy encounters here, so I hate to break the illusion for the reader, but most nights I spent with Carson were just like this one. We’d enjoy each other’s company until the night grew old, and we’d fall asleep. We didn’t hook up every time. For me, that wasn’t the point of dating Carson. If I wanted to cum, I could handle that on my own. I cherished nights like these more than anything, where we were domestically intimate. To the people who would be offended if a date fell asleep without some action, I can partially understand that, but I always thought it was sweet that he trusted me and felt comfortable letting his guard down around me.

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