In his arms

Prologue

I sit on a bench in the park and watch a young couple who are just passing me. Arm in arm. A short kiss, an exuberant laugh ... the two seem so much in love that it involuntarily brings a smile to my lips. But at the same time it makes me think. And a little sad.

For some time now, I have felt a strange emptiness deep inside me, as if there was only a black hole where my heart should be. I feel lonely and wonder if my life is still on the right track. So much is missing. Things that used to mean something to me have become secondary. Everything seems static somehow, nothing is in motion anymore. I was never one of those guys looking for the big adventure. But that doesn't mean I like what's happening in my life at the moment. Everyday life has crept in ... Can it go on like this? Or do I have to change something to become happy again? There is one possibility, yes. A possibility I've been thinking about for a few days now. It's been keeping me awake and on my mind. If I were to take it, everything would change, right away. And I'll be honest - the idea scares me more than a little. Of course, it's also an opportunity. A new life would begin for me, but what would be the price? And am I willing to pay it?

I glance at my watch and am a little startled when I realise that I have been sitting here in the park for over an hour. I still have some shopping to do for my upcoming birthday party.

I get up and am about to leave when a text message reaches me. I open it quickly, skim the text and frown. It takes me a moment to really understand the content of the message, then I shake my head in disbelief.

Excitement grips me.

1.

The guy who has been looking over the counter at me all the time is a few years older than me and wears perfectly fitting suit trousers. The matching jacket is casually thrown over his shoulder, the top buttons of his slim-fitting shirt are undone, the sleeves are rolled up. He is holding a bottle of Budweiser in his hand. He takes a sip from it, stands up - and comes straight towards me.

I try not to stare at him too obviously, but I don't seem to be able to. There's something about this guy that attracts me. First I do the BBB check - beard, glasses, belly. He doesn't have any of that. Good. Not that I have anything against overweight people, people with glasses or beards. It's not like that. But when it comes to sex, it's simply out of the question for me.

And sex is exactly what I want tonight, as it always is when I'm in DT. And I'm not alone in that.

The club is quite popular with both Berliners and tourists. It doesn't matter if you're bi or gay - if you're looking for a quick and uncomplicated number with a man and don't act completely stupid or misbehave, you're guaranteed to find what you're looking for here.

At first glance, the club makes a rather harmless impression. There is a bar and lots of seating, some of which are small alcoves. Everything is furnished in a lounge style, modern with cosy lighting. Good music, cool drinks. Here you get to know each other, have a drink, look around ... As soon as you feel like more, you reach the heart of the club via a narrow spiral staircase.

To where the real action takes place.

Surely there will be men who are looking for more than a one-night stand here. Regular meetings, friendship, love ... I have nothing to do with that. Of course I have friends, mates, but they only play a role outside these clubs. And love? Well, to be honest, I can't do much with that word. But if there really is such a thing as love, I'm sure you won't find it in a club like this.

The guy reaches me and I swallow. He is tall and slim, but without looking gaunt. His angular face seems carved in stone, his dark hair cropped short at the sides. Already I feel a telltale throbbing in my loins. Suited guys like him are the ones I go for, always have. They radiate something that excites me. Power, superiority ... In their presence I feel small and worthless in my blue jeans and simple T-shirt, and that's exactly what turns me on. I like it when guys know what they want and simply dispose of me and my body. They take what they need. Taking out their frustrations on and in me. No talking, no feelings, just fast, hard action. Sex without start-up time, as it is often called in our circles.

Now that the guy is standing right in front of me, I immediately feel the desire to kneel down in front of him. To unzip his trousers, take out his cock and ...

I'm sure I won't hear a single word out of his mouth. He's the kind of guy where looks are enough. He will probably take a deep draught from his bottle, then nod at me and head for the stairs. I will follow him without a word and wait to see what he will do to me downstairs.

Just thinking about it makes me feel hot and I begin to shift restlessly back and forth on the bar stool. I lower my head, my gaze falls on his crotch. A considerable bulge is visible under the fabric of his trousers. I want to reach out and ...

"Hello, I'm Frank."

I blink. A little surprised, I take my eyes off the part of his body that interests me most and look up. I am surprised that he simply introduces himself. After all, that's not quite the norm here. Most people are just looking for one thing here. They drink their beer up here, look for someone suitable, sit down next to him, approach him a bit and then at most ask: "Well, Bock?" But usually not even that. Glances are enough here. That's how I know it, and it's just fine with me. I'm not here to talk. I need the quick hard number, the thrill. Dirty sex without any exchange except that of bodily fluids.

I look up at him now and get the next surprise when I see that he is smiling. Not one of those crooked wide pick-up smiles, but an open, warm-hearted smile. And then those eyes ... Never before have I seen such interesting eyes. They are blue, but no, that's not quite it. The outer rings of the iris actually glow a clear ice blue, but around the pupils they go from a deep green to a reddish brown.

Fascinating, I think, and am surprised to realise that it is actually his eyes that captivate me. Normally, I never pay attention to my counterpart's eyes; on the contrary, I tend to avoid direct eye contact.

I swallow. "I ... um ... hi," I finally reply, stammering. "My name is Lukas." The name isn't right, of course. I never give my real name when I'm here or in other clubs. Too personal. But mostly no one asks anyway.

"Lukas ..." He seems to let my name literally melt on his tongue before he points to my almost empty Coke glass and asks me if I want another drink.

It may sound strange, but somehow I don't know how to answer. I clear my throat. "Shouldn't we go straight downstairs?" I ask hesitantly.

"What's your hurry?" He smiles again and pulls up a bar stool. After sitting down next to me, he drinks from his Budweiser and holds the bottle out to me. I hesitate for a moment, but then take the bottle and drink a sip too. The beer runs pleasantly down my dry throat.

Frank turns to me, looks at me, examines me. There is a glint in his eyes that I don't know how to interpret, and I find it difficult to withstand his gaze.

At some point he lifts a hand and strokes my cheek with his finger. Gently, almost tenderly. The next surprise. I wouldn't have thought of him like that. And somehow I don't know what to make of it. Such gestures are actually too intimate, too close, tenderness is not my cup of tea. To be honest, I don't really know what that's like.

I knew early on that I was gay. I was never really interested in girls. I did go on a few dates, mainly to keep up appearances, but none of that was for me. It also took me a long time to have my first real experiences with boys and men. That was probably because I didn't come out. My conservative parents were not supposed to know, nor were my classmates and other people around me. I'm sure it had a lot to do with the fact that I grew up in a village, where the clocks still tick differently, and normal things are unusual there and unfortunately not always welcome. In the meantime, I'm twenty-nine and no longer have a problem with it, especially since I've been living in Berlin for over five years, and here everyone can be who they want to be. Nevertheless, my gayness continues to take place only in secret: Sex cinemas, gay saunas, dark rooms - that's my world. No dating, no relationships, preferably never sex twice with the same man. That's how I am, that's how I like it, I can't imagine anything else.

Frank's finger wanders under my chin, lifts it. Once again I look him straight in the eye, his gaze draws me magically. I am still holding the bottle of Budweiser tightly as Frank now leans towards me. The distinctive scent of his aftershave rises to my nose, beguiling my senses even more than they already are, and as his face slowly approaches mine, I hold my breath. Normally, this would have been the end for me. Kissing is simply not my cup of tea. A short deep French kiss before the fuck, okay, but nothing more. But somehow everything is suddenly different, and I don't even know what it's really about. There's something about Frank that fascinates me and makes me eagerly wait to see what happens next.

I close my eyes and finally his slightly rough lips touch my mouth, which I already open expectantly because I can guess that he immediately wants to push his tongue down my throat. But once again he surprises me, because that's exactly what he doesn't do. Instead, he begins to kiss me very gently, to play with my lips ... and when his tongue finally enters my mouth, it is also not rough and demanding, but tender, almost careful.

A pleasant shiver runs down my spine. My stomach begins to tingle, a deep moan escapes from my chest. My trousers become tight, but it's not the kind of horniness I usually feel. Not for the first time this evening, I realise that it is different with Frank than with other men.

His tongue now explores mine while he embraces my face with both hands. At first I just let it happen, then I return his kiss. Slowly, hesitantly. It feels good to be kissed and kissed like this. Again I am amazed at myself. I have never really associated the word "beautiful" with sex until now. For me, sex is horny, a rush, a drive that needs to be constantly satisfied.

Frank lets go of my lips and begins to kiss my neck. Again I groan as I feel hot and cold running over me at the same time. I feel goose bumps all over my body from his touch. What is this guy doing to me?

"Well?" he breathes softly into my ear. "Do you like it?"

I only nod slightly, unable to say anything because my throat is quite dry. Frank lets go of me, stands up. Then he takes the beer bottle from me, puts it on the bar and grabs my hand. Smiling, he pulls me off the bar stool. I understand immediately, of course, but I'm still irritated because Frank is so different from the men I've been with so far. Hand in hand we walk towards the stairs. On the way there, I notice numerous gay couples sitting on the sofas, kissing or just relaxing arm in arm. Something I've never done and never really consciously noticed before. For the first time I ask myself if there is something wrong with me. Why am I so different? Why does sex always have to be hard and fast for me, why have I never allowed tenderness until now? Is there even a reason for it or is it just the way it is?

We reach the door to the basement. Standing in front of it, it becomes clear why the club bears its name, because DT stands for Deep Throat. And around the door, a huge, quite real-looking and wide-open man's mouth is painted on the wall. The door practically represents the throat. If you go through the door, you reach the basement of the club via a staircase. Deep into the throat ...

Frank looks at me again questioningly, I nod; then he moves forward without letting go of my hand and I follow him nervously.

The next moment we enter another world.

2.

Down here, in the basement of the DT, the atmosphere is completely different from upstairs in the bar. Walls, floor, ceiling - everything is completely black. Torch-like lamps on the sides illuminate everything only very dimly, so it takes a moment for my eyes to get used to the darkness. I blink a few times, then my vision clears a little.

As I continue to follow Frank, I think of what I have already experienced down here. Especially when we pass the darkroom, a big room where it is really dark, numerous memories come up immediately. There's usually a lot going on in there, especially group sex. I like the feeling. You don't see anything, you just feel. You don't know who's touching you or who you're getting down on your knees to suck off. The open cabins with the glory holes are another thing I like. You go in, kneel down in front of the waist-high hole, which is about the diameter of a tennis ball, and wait impatiently until someone from the other side puts their thing through, which you can then suck, jerk off or shove in the back.

We pass another large room where guests are offered numerous "toys": Sling, St. Andrew's cross, gyn chair - everything is available, there are no limits to the fantasy.

But Frank doesn't want to go there with me either, but to the back of the cellar. There are several lockable and dimly lit cubicles with wide couches and screens showing porn. We go into one, Frank closes the door behind us and then turns to me. We stand facing each other, I am again attracted to his incredible eyes, which seem darker down here than up, and as he now grips my face with both hands, my heart begins to hammer wildly with excitement. I quiver inwardly as his masculine smell hits my nose again.

Finally he kisses me again. Feeling his lips on my mouth is a firework of the senses for me. My goodness, what strange thoughts I suddenly have.

He breaks the kiss and just looks at me. I notice that there is something like admiration in his gaze. Am I imagining it? The next moment he strokes my face with his fingertips, so gently that it feels as if he is using a feather. Doesn't even leave out the lids and the sensitive area under my eyes. I gasp out chokingly. No one has ever done anything like this to me before, nor have I ever wished to. But now that I feel it, it's an incredibly arousing sensation and I wish Frank would never stop.

But he stops, only to continue elsewhere on my body. Again he kisses me, and as he does so I can feel his hands now under my T-shirt. Gently they touch my chest, my belly, seem to be everywhere at once.

The kisses become wilder, but are still far from what you could call rough. I return them passionately, wanting more and now I start to wander with my hands as well. I take hold of Frank's neck, stroke his back, pull his shirt out of his trousers and slide my hands underneath. The skin on his belly feels smooth and warm. My hands move higher, touch his chest and also his nipples, which are stiff and firm. Now I can't stand it any longer, let my right hand slide lower and finally reach the place that interests me most in a man.

His erection is bulging and hard. I feel myself getting hot and suddenly I can only think of one thing: doing what I do best. And to give him the best blowjob he's ever had. I get on my knees in front of him, take his cock out of his trousers.

Frank flinches noticeably, seems caught off guard. "Not so hasty," he stammers. "Let's ..."

But when I run my tongue over the tip, he falls silent and a groan escapes his throat.

His cock is big and thick, just the way I like it. I now take the bulging glans between my lips and start to suck on it lightly. Frank's moans get louder. And encourages me to give myself over completely to my passion.

Because a passionate blower, that's what I really am. I can't get enough of spoiling cocks with my lips and tongue, of getting fucked in the mouth, and that's exactly why I often go to clubs like this one. Because you can always find men here who like to get a blowjob.

But that Frank is different from the other men I've done it with so far is shown once again when he now clasps the back of my head with his hands while I take his part deeper into my mouth.

Usually the partner makes it clear that he wants to take the lead; I just keep still and let him do what he wants. I'm into it. And I don't know it any other way.

Frank, however, once again gives things a different turn. He doesn't hold my head tightly or pull it closer to him, but simply strokes my hair. Tenderly, almost lovingly. As if he wanted to thank me for giving him a blow job.

I enjoy the way he strokes me and involuntarily I feel the desire to become gentler myself. I take his cock out of my mouth again and start to pamper him only with my tongue. I play with his glans and then let it slide all over his cock, while at the same time I caress his belly with my hands and notice how my touches give him goose bumps.

I continue like this for quite a while until Frank finally pulls me up to him.

"Don't you like it?", I ask a little uncertainly.

He smiles. "This isn't just about me," he clarifies and kisses me again. "It may be what you're used to, but that's not how it works for me." He winks at me. "Problem?"

I just shake my head. I can't say anything back. My throat is now so dry that I can't make a sound. And then the opportunity to speak has passed as Frank begins to slowly undress me. Gently he pulls my shirt up, slips it over my shoulders. Bends over and begins to kiss my upper body. I lean back, feel the cabin wall behind me and close my eyes as goose bumps run down my spine one after the other. Frank's touches and caresses trigger something in me that I don't know like this, and yet I feel as if I've been waiting a lifetime for something like this. I run both hands over his head, move lower and begin to take off his jacket a little awkwardly. Frank then straightens up again and begins to undress.

I watch him excitedly, at the same time I also open my trousers and take them off. When I stand naked in front of him and notice his admiring looks, I feel a little proud; pleasing him like that is a good feeling. And when Frank finally stands naked in front of me too, I give him the same appreciation, and I really feel it, because he looks insanely good. His smooth chest, broad shoulders and strong upper arms ...

My breath catches as he strokes my face and looks deep into my eyes. "Are you sure you really want this?" he asks me. "We hardly know each other ..."

For a moment I wonder if the question is really serious. Normally, in situations and places like this, no one is interested. No one has ever asked me anything like that. But I can tell by the look on his face that Frank wasn't just saying it.

I nod. "I'm sure," I whisper, letting my tongue slide into his mouth, showing him how much I really want him.

"Wait," he says. I let go of him and he reaches for his jacket. Shortly afterwards he has taken out a condom and a tube of lubricant, puts both on a small table next to the couch. Then he slowly turns me around, kisses my neck. Lets his lips wander down my back. The wet trail he leaves behind causes my skin to tingle. I bend over, support myself with both hands on the couch and press myself further towards him. A tremor runs through my body as he reaches my bottom, gently pulls my cheeks apart and slides his tongue through my cleft. Finally, I groan as he attends to my opening. First he moistens it with his tongue and then carefully stretches it with a finger.

Something new for me again. I don't know such preparation, it doesn't fit with the fast and hard sex I usually get here and in other clubs.

He lets go of me for a moment. I hear him open the tube with the lubricant, then I feel the slippery cool gel on my ass. Gently he rubs it around my opening and into it, stretching me further.

Again he lets go of me, grabs me from behind by the sides, pulls me up and turns me to face him. I look him in the eye and he now pushes me backwards onto the couch. I watch him as he pulls the rubber over his stiff cock and puts some more lubricant on it.

Finally he pushes my thighs apart and comes over me. I push myself towards him, can hardly wait to be possessed by him. It's been a long time since I've wanted a man like Frank.

I feel his bulging glans brush my sack and then move deeper, finding my opening. Suddenly I feel myself tensing up, a problem I never normally have. I try to loosen up. Frank obviously notices what's going on inside me, leans down a little, holds a finger to my lips. I immediately put it in my mouth, suck on the tip of the finger and relax automatically. He takes the finger out, builds himself up in front of me again, puts my legs over his shoulders so that the way is now finally clear for him. He puts his cock in again and I feel the glans at my opening.

Then he penetrates me with a jerk - by no means brutally, but as hard as necessary.

I moan out. Close my eyes and enjoy feeling completely filled while Frank bends over me, propping himself up on the couch with his hands beside me and moving inside me, first slowly, then

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Cover: Maximmmum/Shutterstock
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.08.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-4939-3

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