- Joined
- May 27, 2023
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- New York, NY, USA
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- 100% Gay, 0% Straight
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- Male
My favorite story about my very own gay Mr. Big. Last summer, I attended a wedding in the Hamptons, a lavish affair filled with laughter, love, and the intoxicating buzz of celebration. I was 29 living my best life in NYC and it was my first time headed out to the beach. The evening was warm, and the soft breeze carried the scent of the ocean from a block away, mingling with the fragrance of blooming flowers. The reception was held in a sprawling estate off Gin Lane, its manicured gardens illuminated by fairy lights.
As I wandered through the crowd, I spotted him. He was standing near the bar, a tall, fortysomething man, shaved head with a chiseled jaw and piercing green eyes that seemed to glow under the twinkling lights. Our eyes met, and a jolt of electricity shot through me. He raised his glass in a silent toast, a smirk playing on his lips. I felt a magnetic pull, drawing me toward him.
“Hey there,” I said, my voice a bit huskier than usual. “I’m Sev”
“Nice to meet you, Sev. I’m Michael,” he replied, his gaze never leaving mine. “Enjoying the wedding?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” I said, taking a sip of my drink to steady my nerves. “But I think I just found something more interesting.”
Michael chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made my heart race. “Is that so? Care to elaborate?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean,” I said, stepping closer. Our bodies were inches apart, the heat between us palpable. Michael’s hand brushed against mine, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Maybe we should find somewhere more private to continue this conversation,” he suggested, his voice low and filled with promise. I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak, and he led me through the maze of guests and into the house.
We slipped into a study upstairs, the heavy wooden door closing behind us with a soft click. The moment we were alone, Michael’s lips were on mine, hot and demanding. I melted into the kiss, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his suit.
He pressed me against the wall, his body pinning mine as his hands explored. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through me. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, and it only made me want him more.
“God, you’re hot,” he murmured against my lips, his hands moving to unbutton my shirt. I shivered as his fingers brushed against my bare skin, the sensation almost too much to bear. I fumbled with his tie, desperate to feel him, to taste him.
Our clothes were a blur, quickly discarded in the heat of the moment. Michael’s body was a work of art, every inch of him sculpted and perfect. I couldn’t get enough of him, my hands and lips exploring every inch of his skin.
He pushed me down onto the plush couch, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you,” he said, his voice rough with need.
“Then take me,” I replied, my own voice trembling with anticipation. Michael didn’t need any further encouragement. He positioned himself between my legs, his hands gripping my hips as he entered me with one smooth, powerful thrust with an eight inch perfect cock.
The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made me gasp. He moved slowly at first, letting me adjust, but soon his pace quickened, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside me right on my prostate. I moaned, my hands clutching at the cushions as I rode the waves of pleasure. His fucking was intense and with each thrust he maintain the eye contact with me and it drove me wild.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his pace relentless. I could feel myself nearing the edge, the heat building in my core with every movement.
“Michael, I’m close,” I managed to gasp out, my body trembling. He responded by gripping my erection, stroking me in time with his thrusts. I was on top of him trusting down but he was no lazy top as he met me mid-air thrusting upward. The dual sensations pushed me over the edge, and I came with a cry, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. I came in and exactly seven ropes of cum and my balls quaked with each ejac that came out of my dick.
Michael followed moments later, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he found his own release of at least half a cup of continous sticky white nectar. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and sweaty, our bodies tangled together.
For a few moments, we just lay there, catching our breath. Eventually, Michael rolled off me, pulling me close. “That was incredible,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, my heart still racing. “I’m glad I came to this wedding.”
“Me too,” he said with a chuckle. “Maybe we should make this a tradition.”
“Maybe we should,” I replied, smiling as I nestled against him. The night might have been about someone else’s love story, but it seemed like we had written our own unforgettable chapter. We proceeded to meet up for six months when we were back in the city at almost every high end hotel in the city--the Four Seasons, the St. Regis, Sofitel etc. Apparently he was married to a woman, dad of three girls, partner at a law firm and the wedding was his law associate who made partner later that September and he was there without his family who summered about half an hour away on Shelter Island near Sag Harbor. The mind-blowing sex from this guy for those six months made this pasty white boy realize never to discount the older men. We both moved on but it was good while it lasted. Maybe his name was not John but shit, Michael is just as fine a name.
As I wandered through the crowd, I spotted him. He was standing near the bar, a tall, fortysomething man, shaved head with a chiseled jaw and piercing green eyes that seemed to glow under the twinkling lights. Our eyes met, and a jolt of electricity shot through me. He raised his glass in a silent toast, a smirk playing on his lips. I felt a magnetic pull, drawing me toward him.
“Hey there,” I said, my voice a bit huskier than usual. “I’m Sev”
“Nice to meet you, Sev. I’m Michael,” he replied, his gaze never leaving mine. “Enjoying the wedding?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” I said, taking a sip of my drink to steady my nerves. “But I think I just found something more interesting.”
Michael chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made my heart race. “Is that so? Care to elaborate?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean,” I said, stepping closer. Our bodies were inches apart, the heat between us palpable. Michael’s hand brushed against mine, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Maybe we should find somewhere more private to continue this conversation,” he suggested, his voice low and filled with promise. I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak, and he led me through the maze of guests and into the house.
We slipped into a study upstairs, the heavy wooden door closing behind us with a soft click. The moment we were alone, Michael’s lips were on mine, hot and demanding. I melted into the kiss, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his suit.
He pressed me against the wall, his body pinning mine as his hands explored. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through me. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, and it only made me want him more.
“God, you’re hot,” he murmured against my lips, his hands moving to unbutton my shirt. I shivered as his fingers brushed against my bare skin, the sensation almost too much to bear. I fumbled with his tie, desperate to feel him, to taste him.
Our clothes were a blur, quickly discarded in the heat of the moment. Michael’s body was a work of art, every inch of him sculpted and perfect. I couldn’t get enough of him, my hands and lips exploring every inch of his skin.
He pushed me down onto the plush couch, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you,” he said, his voice rough with need.
“Then take me,” I replied, my own voice trembling with anticipation. Michael didn’t need any further encouragement. He positioned himself between my legs, his hands gripping my hips as he entered me with one smooth, powerful thrust with an eight inch perfect cock.
The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made me gasp. He moved slowly at first, letting me adjust, but soon his pace quickened, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside me right on my prostate. I moaned, my hands clutching at the cushions as I rode the waves of pleasure. His fucking was intense and with each thrust he maintain the eye contact with me and it drove me wild.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his pace relentless. I could feel myself nearing the edge, the heat building in my core with every movement.
“Michael, I’m close,” I managed to gasp out, my body trembling. He responded by gripping my erection, stroking me in time with his thrusts. I was on top of him trusting down but he was no lazy top as he met me mid-air thrusting upward. The dual sensations pushed me over the edge, and I came with a cry, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. I came in and exactly seven ropes of cum and my balls quaked with each ejac that came out of my dick.
Michael followed moments later, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he found his own release of at least half a cup of continous sticky white nectar. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and sweaty, our bodies tangled together.
For a few moments, we just lay there, catching our breath. Eventually, Michael rolled off me, pulling me close. “That was incredible,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, my heart still racing. “I’m glad I came to this wedding.”
“Me too,” he said with a chuckle. “Maybe we should make this a tradition.”
“Maybe we should,” I replied, smiling as I nestled against him. The night might have been about someone else’s love story, but it seemed like we had written our own unforgettable chapter. We proceeded to meet up for six months when we were back in the city at almost every high end hotel in the city--the Four Seasons, the St. Regis, Sofitel etc. Apparently he was married to a woman, dad of three girls, partner at a law firm and the wedding was his law associate who made partner later that September and he was there without his family who summered about half an hour away on Shelter Island near Sag Harbor. The mind-blowing sex from this guy for those six months made this pasty white boy realize never to discount the older men. We both moved on but it was good while it lasted. Maybe his name was not John but shit, Michael is just as fine a name.
