Dillon - Part IV - Ronan

In such a short amount of time, I had gone from “completely straight” to “I’m not gay, I’m just horny and guys are easy.”

My roommate and best friend, Alessandro, had popped my cherry and proved my enjoyment wasn’t just that one drunken night. After a bit of back and forth in my head about “what it all means” and thinking maybe I was possibly bi but just for Alessandro, I had an intense hookup with Tank, a guy I never would’ve thought would be into a hook up with a guy, but he showed me the more sensual side of what sex can be with a guy. It should’ve flipped a “duh” switch inside me, but instead it had me regress a bit. Mostly because in the days after both Alessandro and Tank, I was not at all interested in sex with another guy; the idea of it was a huge turn-off. So I was able to convince myself it was “just sex” and not an attraction of any kind. Horniness, rearing its ugly head and demanding release in one way or another.

Granted, I struggled to explain why I had only been fucked by guys, and never fucked either of them. That piece of the puzzle fit too easily, “well…obviously I’m not gay, or even bi, because I don’t think I could even get it up to top a guy.” I did some internet research, finding that anal stimulation is good for gay and straight guys, and that was all the confirmation I needed to put it all behind me.

Tank didn’t mention it again. Alessandro was dating some girl that probably wouldn’t last, and he certainly wasn’t going to mention it again, now that he’s in a relationship. I was able to pull three different girls between that night with Tank and the start of Christmas break, proving to myself beyond a reasonable doubt that not only am I straight, but I only did it with those two specific guys because they are my friends, and I was horny, needing any kind of release.

Christmas break was rough. Back in Indiana, with my three older brothers, one older sister, their significant others, my one niece, and two nephews, the house was packed, and I didn’t even get a cot. It was fun, though. But by Christmas, I was… frustrated. I’ve never been able to jerk it in the shower, and nothing turns me off more than trying to do it sitting on the toilet. It seemed my niece and nephew really enjoyed my company and decided to occupy the living room with me for endless slumber parties as we waited for Santa to come. As much as I love those little rascals, I hated them by Christmas morning because even though Santa came…I had not in more than a week.

The frustration continued to build. Most of the family stuck around for New Year's Eve. Two days before Christmas, I had been driving around downtown, doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, and along my drive, I noticed a new bar had opened up with rainbow flags flanking the sign. I know from the GSA on campus that it probably means it’s a gay bar. Three months ago, I wouldn’t have even noticed rainbow flags. With a lot of soul searching and having had sex three times with other guys…now I notice the flags. So, as you can imagine, when I’m two weeks without jerking off, horny as hell, family has stressed me out to no end, when I found myself leaving a dinner out with my second-oldest brother and his girlfriend, and I was supposed to be driving back to the house, I found myself driving toward that bar. It wasn’t a conscious decision, at least not at first, but when I was within a mile, I figured it couldn’t hurt to check it out… like a sociology experiment, or something.

The rush of excitement that pumped through my body as soon as I walked in was nothing short of jumping off a cliff. I could tell instantly which guys were regulars and which were like me and only here for the holiday. I had told myself in the car that I would only pop in for one drink, check it out, and then leave.

I bought my one drink, a beer, you know, like a straight guy does at a gay bar. Soon I found myself in conversation with a couple of guys my age, and to my surprise, they all seemed normal, like me. None of them fit the stereotypes I had in my head about who gay guys were. We had a few laughs about our different classes. One guy bought me something called a “Long Island Iced Tea,” which… only kind of tasted like tea but was delicious. The conversation turned toward sex, and I realized I was way out of my depth. They were using terminology I had never heard of, and I found myself falling back and letting them talk while I sipped and sipped my drink.

By the time my drink was empty, one of the guys had already ordered me another, and like magic, my hand was no longer empty. As I sipped it, one of the guys realized I hadn’t been participating in the conversation since it turned to sex.

“What about you, Dillon?” Ronan asked. Ronan was a very pretty guy. That’s the only way I can think to describe him. He’s my height, looks like he has zero body fat, alabaster white skin, dark hair that was almost a bowl cut, but more stylish, bright blue, almost silver eyes that really popped in the light, a small button nose, and lips so red I would’ve guessed he was wearing lipstick if I hadn’t been staring at them for the last thirty minutes.

“What about me?” I asked stupidly and tried to sip my drink from the little stirring straw.

“Are you…having fun at your campus? You look like you’ve bent over a straight boy or two,” He grinned.

I nearly choked on my drink. “Oh, ummm…I,” I blushed and tried to choose my words carefully, then blurted out, “I’ve only hooked up with two guys.”

“Two guys…this semester?” He clarified.

“This semester, this…ever,” I shrugged and sipped again.

“Oh shit, are you still in the closet?” Terry, one of the older guys in the group, asked.

“I…I don’t know what I am,” I tried to be honest and not feel like a child at the big kids' table.

“He’s the straight boy getting bent over,” Mark, the biggest and roundest guy, said with a heavy chuckle, and the rest of the guys laughed.

I felt so embarrassed, I could feel my face flush red, but I also noticed Ronan was not laughing, but looked like he was undressing me with his eyes…and it was more than turning me on. I tried not to make eye contact, but as I slurped the now-empty glass with my straw, he asked, “Need another one?”

I nodded and he walked me to the bar where I was rewarded with a third Long Island Iced Tea, and some fun one-on-one conversation with Ronan. The conversation seemed to always turn back to me; he asked all about my sexual experience, and for some reason, I felt more than comfortable telling this guy everything. Every time I’d ask him a question, he’d give me a quick answer, and then somehow the conversation would come back to me.

“I assume you used condoms, right?” He asked.

I hesitated, thinking about how all three times I had sex with two different guys ended up with them blowing their loads inside me. “Of course,” I shrugged after a brief hesitation.

His smile curled up in only one corner. “Sounds like, even though you’re straight, you really enjoy getting fucked,” he leaned in and whispered into my ear. My heart instantly raced at the sudden intimacy of the conversation. He smelled like Ivry soap and Tommy cologne and…maybe it was in my head, but when his hand crept around my waist to the small of my back so he could lean into my ear and be heard, I swear the temperature rose easily twenty degrees.

I blushed, slowly tossed my head from side to side, “I don’t know, kind of, I guess.”

“You guess?” He asked, his warm breath on my ear, his thumb moving up and down from his hand on my back.

“I definitely didn’t hate it,” I chuckled, my heart thumping out of my chest. I’m sure he could feel it from his hand on my back.

“Would you like to come back to my place, turn that maybe into a yes?” He asked.

I can literally feel the blood rushing from my brain to my dick. I sucked the last of my drink up through the straw, then nodded slowly at first, then confidently.

He smiled, “Let's get out of here.”

He paid for our drinks, we grabbed our coats, and were out the door. I could tell I was way too drunk to drive, but he assured me my car was fine where it was parked and that he was only a few blocks away.

It was more than a few blocks, but the further we walked, the more I felt the booze in my system encouraging me to continue. His place turned out to actually be his parents' place, but he snuck us in through the split-level basement entrance. The basement was fully finished and furnished as some sort of rec room. The back wall had two doors: one led to a bathroom, the other to a guest room.

Ronan started kissing me the second we closed the bedroom door. He didn’t turn on a light; the only light came from the street through a small window about seven feet up, just enough to kiss the edges of everything in the room, and his pale skin almost looked blue.

It wasn’t warm in the room, but thankfully it wasn’t freezing either, because he had my and his shirts off in no time. I was right about him being in incredible shape; he had eight visible abs, and his pecs were perfectly squared off like a character in a comic book. His V-cut was the most impressive I’ve ever seen. He went for my belt and undid my jeans quickly with no stumbles, leaving me in just my white Calvin Klein briefs and an erection the cotton fabric could barely contain. The wet spot forming at my tip was an obvious sign I was more than ready for whatever happens next.

I slid up the bed and watched as he stood for a second and undid his jeans, dropping them to the floor. He clearly didn’t skip leg day, and his red bikini briefs reminded me of the white ones I wore the night Aley took my anal virginity. His package filled them out impressively, and he didn’t even look hard. He climbed back on the bed between my legs and started grinding on me as we resumed kissing, and letting our hands map each other's bodies.

When it was clear our grinding had made him hard as hell, he sat back on his feet, hooked his fingers into my briefs, and pulled them off. I lift my ass and let him, no shyness from me, I love showing off my naked body. He rose onto his knees, and I watched as he pushed his bikini briefs down, his thick, six-inch dick came out straight, and then started to curve up about halfway through the shaft. The head was wide and on the flat side, almost as wide, if not wider than the thick base of his shaft. He leaned back over me and started kissing me, his dick rubbing against mine. I could feel his precum leaking onto my dick as we continued to frot against each other.

He leaned over to the nightstand to the left of the bed, opening the drawers, then closing them. Then he leaned over to the nightstand on the right side, opening the drawers and pulling out a little jar of something. “Is Vaseline ok?” He asked. I didn’t understand the question. I had only ever used Vaseline on chapped lips and burns as a kid, so I just nodded, too drunk to care about chapped lips. 

He popped it open and dipped a finger in it, then that finger went straight between my legs and smeared on my hole.

“Ah…cold,” I chuckled, and he grinned at me. The lube I used with Aley and Tank was more liquid. This was kind of thick, but it seemed to coat my pucker easily, and even more easily, he was able to push his finger into my hole… though that could be because I was so drunk and horny my hole was excited for the attention.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered, grinning at me as I slowly started stroking my dick.

The feeling of being fingered by this hot stranger was exciting, but I still had no idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to do, so I just focused on my own pleasure. Stroking my dick felt good for me, and he was watching so intently, I think he was enjoying the show. When one finger became two, I cringed.

“So tight,” he almost chuckled.

“Yeah, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve only had those three experiences,” I huffed, trying to keep my dick hard as my hole was played with and stretched.

It only took a few minutes before my ass relented and his two fingers started to feel good, the thick lube really helped it not to hurt at all, and as I stroked myself, I felt him find my prostate and started to massage it gently. “Mmm…that feels good,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, you love it,” he whispered back.

I started stroking faster, spreading my legs wider as he finger fucked me and played with my balls with his thumb. It was probably because it had been too long since I jerked off, but the feeling inside me was so good, and my stroking was what my body had been begging for; my balls without warning drew up into my body, and my breath hitched as I grunted and shot my load. I couldn’t stop pumping as his fingers milked my prostate and my balls emptied onto my abs.

He kept his fingers inside me all the way through my orgasm, and I was too drunk and spent to tell him ‘I’m good,’ so I just reached over and grabbed a few tissues to clean up my mess. As I was squeezing out the last of my load, he pulled his fingers from my hole, then got another dollop of the Vaseline and smeared it all over his rock-hard dick. I put the tissues on the nightstand and watched him stroke himself for a few strokes, completely coating his dick. Then he leaned forward and started kissing me as he pushed his dick below my balls toward my sensitive hole.

Having shot my load, I was in no mood to hook up with him; the kissing was ok, but that was mostly the alcohol. His cock found my hole and tried to push in, but I was like a vise. I broke our kiss and said, “I don’t think it’s going to go in.”

“Just relax,” he said, adding pressure.

“Ngh…I don’t know, man, it’s too thick,” I groaned, but the head was circling my hole, and my outer ring was almost dilating to try and let him in.

“Don’t give me blue balls, man,” he mumbled, his lips just grazing mine as his cock pressed harder on my hole.

Being a horny guy myself, I understand the sexual frustration and didn’t want to be ‘that guy’ who gives another dude blue balls. I felt guilty. Even though I’m not gay, I should let him fuck me, right? I mean, this is just two dudes using each other to get off, and it’s incredibly unfair that he gave me an orgasm if I don’t help him get one. It was only fair to let him use me to get off. I could help out my fellow man. ‘Ask not what your new gay friend can do for you, but what you can do for your new gay friend,’ right? I felt him nudge his cock head into the crevice of my hole, and I groaned, “Ngh…do you have a condom?”

He sat up, digging into the drawer where he found the Vaseline. “No, do you have one?”

I thought about how I always carried an emergency condom in my wallet, but in my decision to ‘only have one drink,’ I took ten dollars and my ID only into the bar, leaving the rest of my wallet in the car. “I don’t,” I said, almost disappointed, but somewhat relieved since no condom meant no sex, right?

He sat back up, stroking his dick, the shine from the lubricant caught the window light, and almost glowed in the dark. “Fuck, I probably have one in my bedroom upstairs. I could go get it, if you want?” He asked.

Assuming he was suggesting he could get the condom and he can fuck me, or not get the condom and not fuck me, I decided to leave that up to him. “If you want,” I said, slowly playing with my now soft, spent cock.

He grinned and nodded. “Do you ever… take it raw?”

“No,” I lied, but it was more the honest answer to what I knew was the real question, ‘no, you can’t fuck me raw.’

“Really?” He asked, with a look of disbelief.

He waited for me to say something, so I added in a bit of a playful, but somewhat slurred, way, “Ok, yeah, but I don’t really know you… like that, I mean.”

He bit his lower lip, then took a deep breath as he stroked his dick, “I’ll run upstairs and get a condom.”

In a flash, he was out the door. I could hear his footsteps throughout the quiet house, at least until he was halfway up the stairs to what I assumed was the second floor, where the bedrooms were. I just lay there in the dark, the room spinning more than I’ve ever felt, and I tried to latch onto the only light source in the room to keep from closing my eyes and passing out. It wasn’t working, though. I felt the spins taking over, and my eyes started closing; that comfortable post-orgasm fog started pushing me towards sleep, but then I heard him coming back down the stairs, and he was bursting through the door in seconds, closing it quietly behind him. I quickly lifted my head and tried to refocus on him and his naked, cut body.

He hopped back on the bed, got between my legs, and started stroking himself. He set the condom package down next to me, along with a dark, small glass bottle that was cold against my hip. I picked it up as I watched him stroke his dick. I thought it was maybe a special lube, but then when he noticed me examining it, he said, “I got that from a friend of mine back at UNC. You can’t get Amyl here anymore,” he grinned.

“What is it?” I asked, squinting, the bottle was too small and too dark to read through my blurry vision.

“Oh shit, you’re really new to this, huh?” He grinned. Then took the bottle from me, shook it, uncapped it, put it under his nose, and using a finger on the other side of his nose, he inhaled sharply. Then he did it again on the other side of his nose and capped the bottle. “That’s all there is to it,” he said, handing me the bottle. Then I watched as he stroked his hard dick and got quiet, his face seemed to relax like he was high as hell, and then he added, “It doesn’t last long but gives quite the punch,” he grinned.

I decided, ‘when in Rome,’ and did exactly as he had done. Before I could get to the other side of my nose, the rush hit me hard, and I thought I was going to black out. I felt my heart racing, my body warm, but relaxed, and even though I had just emptied my balls, my horniness was returning. I decided to do the other nostril, and he scooted up between my legs some more. His still-lubed cock was instantly seeking my hole as the wave from the second hit washed over me. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, feeling the head of his cock pushing into my hole with no sting, little resistance, and a tingle of pleasure. I capped the bottle and let my head fall onto the pillow as he leaned over me and kissed me. His tongue went right into my mouth as his hips hunched up into me, and I felt his cock sink further into me. The deeper it went, the more I felt that discomfort and came back to reality, maybe survival instinct kicking in, I realized I hadn’t seen him put on the condom. I pushed back on his hips, “Ngh…do you have the condom on?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he said, then kissed me. “I will, I just didn’t want to waste your first popper hit,” he said, as his dick nudged a little deeper into me. This seemed to make sense in my head, and the rush really made it easier for him to get in me.

“Ok, but…you should really put it on if you want to fuck me,” I said, my hands pushing back on his hips.

He kissed my neck, and I felt his dick throb inside me before he sat up. “Of course,” he said, sitting up on his feet, the head of his cock still inside my hole as he felt around for the condom package. He tore it open with his teeth, then pulled the latex ring out and tossed the wrapper behind him. He pulled out, leaving my hole wanting more, and rolled the condom down his shaft surprisingly quickly. He spat on it, rubbing the spit around the head, and put it back to my entrance. He put my left leg on his shoulder and started pushing in. This stung, and I groaned. “Take another hit,” he said, nodding toward the little glass bottle.

I quickly grabbed it and inhaled deep on both sides. As the wave washed over my body, I felt my hole instantly unclench, and he slowly pushed in. The deeper he went, the tighter I felt, and I felt that friction from the condom that Tank talked about. The Vaseline helped, and it seemed to slide deeper into me along with his dick, and the struggle was just his girth because he wasn’t quite as deep as Tank, but definitely thicker than Aley and Tank. As the rush of the poppers wore off, he started kissing me again, hunching up into me, pumping two inches, then three, then two, then four. “Feel good?” he asked, breaking our kissing and moving to my neck, my legs sliding down his torso, and I wrapped them around his back.

“Un-huh,” I panted. Each thrust pushes the air out of me in a huff. I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight as he started speeding up. I don’t know if a switch flipped inside me, but it started feeling really good as he began thrusting deeper and deeper into me. The girth was almost forcing my prostate back into action, and when his dick would pull most of the way out, the curve pressed really firm on it, and the silky smoothness of his cock would slide over it, then deep into me. “Fuck, Ronan, that feels really good,” I mumbled through breathless words.

He panted in my ear, punctuating each pump of his cock into me. “You’re so tight, I’m not going to last long,” Ronan warned, gripping onto me tighter and his breath in my ear as his dick seemed to feel better and better as it got thicker and thicker with each thrust, digging deep and holding it there for a moment to hold off his orgasm while getting maximum pleasure from the tight warmth of my anal walls. 

“Mmm…that’s ok,” I felt the need to say, even though it was now feeling so good I didn’t want it to stop, and I rocked my hips up to meet his thrusts, clenching and unclenching my ass around his pistoning iron hot cock.

“Can I cum in you?” He asked.

“Do it,” I moaned, feeling the pressure of his swelling cock head hitting deeper inside me and spreading open a new level for our session, and I held on tight to him as he held on tight to me. His knees dug into the mattress for leverage as his hips held tight to my ass, short, strong thrusts hitting just right inside me. “Oh fuck,” I moaned, digging my fingers into his back.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” he grunted in my ear, and then I heard a deep pant as his hips slammed into my ass and his dick spasmed inside me. The warmth spreading inside me as my ass squeezed his pulsing dick, making him tremble on top of me, I knew he was blowing his load, and it felt so good for me. It was a fantastic thing to experience, feeling another guy's orgasm while he was inside me, and how much pleasure it gave me, almost like I blew a second load.

He lay on top of me, panting for a minute, and when his body relaxed and he could retake a deep breath, he slowly pushed up and sat back upright, pulling his dick out of my ass nice and slow to not shock my system. “Oh, fuck,” he looked down at his dick, then up at me. “The condom broke.”

“What? How?” I asked. I’ve never had a condom break in my life, and I’ve fucked pretty hard.

He looked at me with an indecipherable look on his face, “I don’t know, maybe it’s old? I got it out of a drawer in my brother’s room, and he hasn’t lived here in a while.”

“Fuck…oh shit, did you cum in me?” I sat up quickly, my balance way off. I almost fell over but managed to feel between my legs, my hole coated in lube and wetness.

“Well…yeah, you told me I could,” he shrugged.

“I…well, I thought you had a condom on,” I told him, looking at his deflating, slick cock, with a shredded condom barely dangling from the rubber band at the base.

“Pshhh…so did I,” he said, shaking his head, but it sounded like a question.

I didn’t know what to do. This stranger I met tonight just shot his load into me. This is the third guy in two months to cum inside me. Me. A straight guy from…

“I’ve been tested recently,” he said unceremoniously. “Let me get you a towel,” he said, hopping off the bed. The condom completely destroyed around his shiny dick was the only thing I could look at before he turned away to walk out the door. I kept rubbing my ass hole, the weird feeling of knowing another man's cum is inside me…I couldn’t help but shake my head, and as I did, I realized how drunk I was. I let myself lie back on the bed, the room spinning faster than it ever has in my life. The darkness crept in, and I woke up to a wet washcloth rubbing my dick.

“What, ugh…” I grogily said.

Ronan chuckled, “You fell asleep. Here,” he handed me the washcloth.

The room came slightly into focus, as did he. He looked like he had taken a shower, and even his wet hair was combed. It all rushed back what had happened, and I quickly used the towel to wipe the cum and Vaseline off my ass. I watched as he untangled my briefs from my jeans and handed them to me. I noticed he wasn’t getting dressed, just standing there watching me with a towel wrapped around his waist as I struggled to flop around on the bed and pull on my underwear.

He chuckled again, “You can crash here if you want, but you need to sneak out in the morning. Everyone will be…” was the last thing I remember hearing as I passed out.