Sex stories

At 18, Karim already moved like a raider. Not some flirt throwing lines. Not a show-off. A natural-born hunter. He knew how to catch a glance, how to send one back. He’d been with more ladies than most guys twice his age — and never had to chase. They came to him. Every time.

But that day, something felt different.

He wasn’t just horny. He was wired — this heat pulsing under his skin, pooling low in his belly. He needed release, but nothing called to him. No lady caught his eye. No vibe.

And then he saw him.

Slim. Slight. A little soft. Not from around here — that was clear. Too clean, too calm. He looked out of place, but stood like he belonged. And he was watching Karim. Not shyly. Not nervously. With a steady, open look. Honest. Bold. A little too bold. Like he knew what he wanted.

Karim didn’t speak. He just walked up and stopped in front of him, eye to eye. For a moment, time slowed. The air thickened. The guy lowered his gaze, turned, and walked away — not quickly. Just enough to invite.

And Karim followed.

Not with a plan. Not with questions. With instinct. He moved through the cité like a thread pulled by something unseen. Something new.

They ended up in an underground parking lot. Concrete. Quiet. Dim. The guy walked between two cars and stopped. Turned around. Waited.

Karim approached slowly. He didn’t say a word. The guy held his gaze for a second, then sank to his knees with ease — like he’d done it before, like he’d chosen this moment.

Karim’s breath caught.

The guy looked up at him, hands moving gently to open his jeans, then paused. Karim gave the smallest nod. That was all it took. The man lowered his eyes again, and leaned in.

The warmth of his mouth around Karim’s cock was new. Not better than ladies. Just different. Sharper. More focused. He moved slowly, letting Karim adjust, letting him feel every bit of it. And Karim did. His body responded immediately.

It didn’t take long before his hips started moving. Naturally. Not to dominate — just to connect. The guy followed, letting himself be guided, not pushed. His rhythm stayed smooth, steady, generous. The trust between them was instant, silent, and strong.

Karim felt his hand rest lightly on the man’s head — not to hold him down, but to stay connected. The guy responded by taking him deeper, adjusting without hesitation.

Karim exhaled, his chest rising. Something stirred deep in him. Not just lust — something bigger. He felt seen. Wanted in a new way. There was no shame. No doubt. Just presence.

Then the guy stopped, looked up again. Karim understood. He helped him stand. Their eyes met, and again, no words. The guy turned, braced himself lightly against the car, back arched, inviting without pressure.

Karim stepped closer. He reached to lower the man’s pants, slowly, giving space to stop him. But there was no resistance — only a quiet breath of yes.

He positioned himself, gently. Carefully. One hand on the man’s hip, the other holding himself steady.

Then he entered.

Not fast. Not rough. Steady. Deep. Warm.

The man let out a quiet sound — more release than shock. His body welcomed him. Karim stayed still a moment, letting them both feel it. The connection. The breath between them.

And then, with care, he moved. Smooth strokes. Steady rhythm. Holding his hips, Karim found his pace. The man responded with small movements, matching him, encouraging him.

It was real. Mutual. Intimate. And unexpectedly powerful.

The way their bodies met, moved, and responded — it wasn’t about taking. It was about sharing.

Karim felt his chest tighten, his throat dry, his heart kiss louder. Every motion felt electric. Grounded. Real.

The sound of skin, breath, and quiet gasps echoed softly through the parking space. Not loud. But loud enough to make it feel like they were the only two men left in the world.

Karim moved closer, wrapping his arms around the guy’s waist, pulling him back with every stroke. Their pace grew deeper, fuller, but never lost control. It stayed honest. Present. Wanted.

His climax built slowly. Naturally. He whispered a sound — something low, something primal — and pressed in deeper, holding still as wave after wave rushed through him. He came inside, quietly, completely, enjoying his head for a second against the guy’s shoulder as he breathed through the moment.

Then, softly, he pulled out. He stood there for a few seconds. No words.

The guy turned and looked at him. Eyes soft. Face open.

No awkwardness. Just a quiet kind of pride.

They both dressed, still not speaking. But everything had already been said.

Karim walked away. Not in shame. Not in confusion.

Just… different.

Something had shifted. Something had awakened.