A man wrote in a school-size notebook memories of his first meeting and then his experience of a homosexual relationship with a mature, elegant, sensually dominant gentleman who filled him with contentment and sentimental and sexual fullness. He entrusted it to us, wrapped in a cardboard folder and simply closed with an elastic band. We publish it here without changing any of the words or punctuation. Written in a personal way, it will designate the author, who does not provide his first and last name, by the sole “I”. We will say no more. ---------------------------------------------------- II I propose to give here to read, respecting as best as possible the chronologies and events, without however saying the exact places or the precise dates, which constituted my fortuitous but happy discovery of homosexual male pleasures initiated by a mature gentleman after I was a little over eighteen. Previously, I had no proven inclination for any favor with any of my male comrades; we were the same age and shared the same lifestyles without any closeness being born between one and the other, nor any complicity revealing an ambiguity of attitude or rapprochement. I have just turned eighteen and am preparing to go to college in my capital city located about ten kilometers away to begin university studies. The weather is good as September draws to a close and I am trying to temper my worries as a future student, which means a graduation, chasing away my early school days with afternoon walks in the meadows near my place of study. home, via a little and rarely used wooded path. On a bright Indian summer day, with a postcard-perfect azure sky, I discovered at the bottom of a field a half-collapsed wooden shed, occupied by a bench and what was a trellis support. Curiosity takes me there, like an ideal nostalgia for an abandoned countryside. Outside, nothing, no wind. Distant hedges surround the rectangular meadow which we can guess is bordered to the south by a rivulet, shaded by foliage of ash and hazel trees. The view does not extend any further, as if I were at the end of the world with the only way back to the access path. I have been here, sitting for a short time, believing myself to be alone since the beginning of the path and my walk. Suddenly, I hear footsteps. Someone is approaching, it's obvious. Someone whose stature fits into the opening of this rustic shed. About my height, about 1.70 m, white shirt open at the collar under gray jacket, dark pants, hard but pleasant face under glasses, thin and bleached hair. This gentleman gives the idea of ​​being in his fifties, strong without being paunchy, and looks at me fixedly. His suit, strange under this warmth and at this end of the path, can only be that of a city walker, lost or curious about this forgotten path. Immediately, the idea arises that he is not there by simple chance. Yet I neither saw nor heard him behind me. He questions me, speaking to me informally: “Are you taking a walk?” and, without giving me time to respond, adds "I saw you walking down the path and entering this cabin. I come sometimes and I have already seen you here". This statement intrigues me, worries me, disconcerts me: this gentleman is not here by chance or for the pleasures of the countryside. He doesn't give me any time to think and continues his questioning: "How old are you?" . Spontaneously, my first word will be to state my age, “18 years old”. To which he responds, “That’s good.” This “It’s good” seems enigmatic to me and said with suaveness, like a hidden, reassuring smile. I take him with confidence: this gentleman is a source of interest to me, an attractive way of sympathy. Immediately, I convince myself that he does not harbor any dangerous aggression. On the contrary, his look makes me think that he is really interested in me, in me exclusively. Not to the birds or the sun or the weeds. He's obviously there for me, intriguing. He approaches, and ostensibly looks towards me. I sense a movement in his pants fly, with a noticeable swelling. Immediately, at this surreptitious sight, without my being able to help it, I feel my cock harden and stiffen in my underwear. He contemplates me then, decided, “Put your hand on my cock”, “Unzip my fly”. Without a word, subjugated, I obey him and comply, without embarrassment or fear or shame to do what he demands. I place my hand on his fly, undo the buttons, stretch the fabric to reveal white briefs which swell under the thrust of his stiffened cock. “Stroke my tail.” I pass my right hand over and over the underwear. “Pull down my pants and pull down my underwear.” I obeyed immediately, complacent, assured of the gentleman's good will. What I am experiencing, there, in this isolated cabin, without a soul living around, in the illusion of security, fills me with contentment because I know that his orders will continue. I undo his belt, pull down his pants, pull the briefs down and suddenly a stiff tail unfolds before my eyes, a thick tail, in its already whitened hair, a tail soon straight, proud, ravishing to see and look at. “Jerk me off.” I act by executing. With my left hand I hold onto his leg and I masturbate with my right hand. “Caress my balls.” I caress with my left hand while continuing to move back and forth with my right. The glans is not exposed and the sight of the foreskin delights me. The man guesses it: “Continue”. I continue . I will continue until he blows a tremendous jet of cum which he diverts to my left to avoid my cheeks.He gets dressed, buttons his pants, tightens his belt then says to me “Be there tomorrow at the same time”. He leaves . I am overcome with beautiful emotion. Overwhelmed and happy. This gentleman was courteous and pleasant to the point that I discovered the pleasure of having seen a big cock, beautiful fragrant balls and of having jerked off an attractive gentleman who did not scare me. I will leave shortly after him, leaving a reasonable amount of time to let him disappear. My late afternoon, my evening, my night were filled with these visual and olfactory memories with the idea and the desire to start again the next day. At the appointed time, I am sitting on the bench in the shed; the gentleman arrives, dressed identically with his jacket thrown over his shoulder, orders me like the day before and like the day before I obey him without fear. With enthusiasm I masturbate him. Then, without the slightest thought, I lean over his cock: I want to take it in my mouth, spontaneously, by desire and by sensual appetite for the touch of the lips. He stops my movement of his hand, fixes a caring face at a possible noise behind us, gets dressed and tells me to be there again the next day. Was there really a noise? Afterwards, I saw no one or any animal. The next day will pass without him and the following days: he will not come and I will never see him again. My taste was formed, took shape and a vision was presented to me: if guys my age are totally indifferent to me, I understood that I had an inclination for mature men inclined towards homosexual pleasures and I proposed to look in this direction of pleasures; but with silence and discretion. This is how I come back a few days later having built a scene for myself to perform in order to experience it with all my senses.In this shed, on a nice day without cool weather or rain, I take off my clothes and then go outside in my underwear. I have an idea, frightening, terrible with anxiety and fiercely unavoidable at the same time: I want to take off my pants and appear naked, totally naked in front of the trees and the sky. I entertained the idea of ​​exposing myself naked for a few seconds for my own pleasure of openly homosexual exhibition, thinking of being the subject of observation of a mature gentleman who would come and take a warm interest in Me . The fear is overwhelming of being seen and denounced by another malicious person but, with sure will, I dominate it for the space of a few seconds: I take off my underwear and am madly happy to be and show myself naked with my secret hope. Burning with fear, I put my underwear back on then go back to the shed to get dressed. No one was present, no denouncer ...

... Log in to read the end of this erotic story | 100% free registration