Bi-Sexual Male / 43
Some Men Are Meant To Experience The Pleasure Of Man
Now everything is either before or after Covid. This happened to me before Covid. I was flying between Atlanta and Geneva several times a year. In Atlanta I had my family, my college era wife, my two daughters, my parents and my wife's parents. I had earned my promotion and was making more money than I had ever thought I would make.
In Geneva I stayed at this small hotel close to our offices. At this hotel I met a Frenchman from Marseille. He was in the insurance business, in his fifties. He and I shared the breakfast table that morning. He was very worldly, a well educated man or the world. Tall enough, taller than me, dressed well, his hands were smooth and manicured. Sitting at that small table in that small hotel that morning I felt like he wanted to kiss me, or I wanted to kiss him. I accepted his invitation for dinner that night.
Dinner was dinner in Geneva, expensive but not good, Pretentious. I had been to many places like that, but he knew the waiter so we went there. After dinner he suggested a small bar. It was dark but as I got used to the light it was a men's only bar. Well dressed, upper class place. The music in the background was classical, and the conversations low. It took a lot of looking to see the hand on the thigh, the laugh, the look in their eyes. It did not take me long to figure out I was in a gay bar, Swiss gay bar. Nothing out of the ordinary, just men sharing an after dinner drink before they went back to wherever they went to perform fellatio and s***my.
My friend was at ease, his hand did go to my thigh, and to my hand and soon we were close to each other talking about this and that and his hand on my thigh rested there way too long. He stood up and excused himself for the restroom, but in doing so he passed the back of his hand over my crotch, enough to push against my penis. I wasn't hard, I was expectant, all I wanted was a kiss. When he returned he put his hand on my shoulder and I turned up to look at him and he bent down and kissed my lips and suggested it was time to go,
This man was from the field in his youth, polished as an adult. He had a field hand's penis, thick and uncut, his hands were strong, he was intense as he swallowed my penis, his hands up and down my now naked thighs, his finger from time to time pressing against my anus. He was more than I could get in my mouth, my hand held his erect penis, I could feel his masculinity, I couldn't control the urge to take it in my mouth. There was a hunger there, I was past the point of thinking, his finger pressed hard against my anus, slipping in and out as he prepared me to be taken.
I did what I enjoy most, I positioned myself under him, taking all his weight on my back, his penis striking ever deeper with each thrust. It is during this moment that I feel that this is how a woman must feel, but only women can tell me if it so. For me, having his penis inside of me, thrusting hard, his hot body on my back, his breath on my neck, and then to feel him gain strength as he delivered his semen in me. I could relax, lay there, enjoy the moment.
I realize that what I just told you may cause you to dislike me. I have always liked a strong man with a field hand's penis. It is how I was raised. There are men who prefer the company of men. There are men who prefer a moment with a man, to remember, to enjoy the moment. To realize that somewhere inside you are meant to be pleased, and enjoyed by a man who prefers the company of men. At those moments, that is when I feel most that somewhere inside of me I must want to be a woman.
In Geneva I stayed at this small hotel close to our offices. At this hotel I met a Frenchman from Marseille. He was in the insurance business, in his fifties. He and I shared the breakfast table that morning. He was very worldly, a well educated man or the world. Tall enough, taller than me, dressed well, his hands were smooth and manicured. Sitting at that small table in that small hotel that morning I felt like he wanted to kiss me, or I wanted to kiss him. I accepted his invitation for dinner that night.
Dinner was dinner in Geneva, expensive but not good, Pretentious. I had been to many places like that, but he knew the waiter so we went there. After dinner he suggested a small bar. It was dark but as I got used to the light it was a men's only bar. Well dressed, upper class place. The music in the background was classical, and the conversations low. It took a lot of looking to see the hand on the thigh, the laugh, the look in their eyes. It did not take me long to figure out I was in a gay bar, Swiss gay bar. Nothing out of the ordinary, just men sharing an after dinner drink before they went back to wherever they went to perform fellatio and s***my.
My friend was at ease, his hand did go to my thigh, and to my hand and soon we were close to each other talking about this and that and his hand on my thigh rested there way too long. He stood up and excused himself for the restroom, but in doing so he passed the back of his hand over my crotch, enough to push against my penis. I wasn't hard, I was expectant, all I wanted was a kiss. When he returned he put his hand on my shoulder and I turned up to look at him and he bent down and kissed my lips and suggested it was time to go,
This man was from the field in his youth, polished as an adult. He had a field hand's penis, thick and uncut, his hands were strong, he was intense as he swallowed my penis, his hands up and down my now naked thighs, his finger from time to time pressing against my anus. He was more than I could get in my mouth, my hand held his erect penis, I could feel his masculinity, I couldn't control the urge to take it in my mouth. There was a hunger there, I was past the point of thinking, his finger pressed hard against my anus, slipping in and out as he prepared me to be taken.
I did what I enjoy most, I positioned myself under him, taking all his weight on my back, his penis striking ever deeper with each thrust. It is during this moment that I feel that this is how a woman must feel, but only women can tell me if it so. For me, having his penis inside of me, thrusting hard, his hot body on my back, his breath on my neck, and then to feel him gain strength as he delivered his semen in me. I could relax, lay there, enjoy the moment.
I realize that what I just told you may cause you to dislike me. I have always liked a strong man with a field hand's penis. It is how I was raised. There are men who prefer the company of men. There are men who prefer a moment with a man, to remember, to enjoy the moment. To realize that somewhere inside you are meant to be pleased, and enjoyed by a man who prefers the company of men. At those moments, that is when I feel most that somewhere inside of me I must want to be a woman.
