Sex stories

Hey everyone, it’s me, and I’m here to share my first time with a well-hung Arab a few months back. I was 18, slim (1.80m, 60kg), with black hair and green-brown eyes, typical of many Armenians and Turks from the east—like me. During my bac exams (which got canceled), I had to head to Paris alone for some contests, crashing at a friend’s empty apartment. Coming from afar, I adjusted to the time difference, and after three days, I figured it was the perfect chance to try something with a guy. I’d known for a while I was bi, passive with guys but not some submissive pushover.
I signed up on a few chat apps, not obsessing over it. Back then, I didn’t care much about the guy’s type. One evening (a Monday), I was out when a message pinged from “RebeuNow.” Writing this still gives me chills—I remember my reaction: I didn’t think much, just tossed back a quick “yeah” or something. Had no clue this guy would be my first. I replied fast, and he sent some pics—a gorgeous cock and a hot body. I sent him a few of me, smooth and slightly ethnic from my roots. He found me cute, same for me, and suggested we meet up right then (around 8 p.m.). It was still light out, which felt bold—I’d never tried this and was wary.
I wasn’t keen on going to his place, so I pitched a public spot. He wasn’t thrilled but agreed when I promised just a blowjob in public toilets—I was scared of getting fucked, even though I wanted it. He lived one metro stop away, but I was so nervous I walked. We set the meet at the ticket machine area. I got there, waited, and after two minutes, figured it was a fake and planned to cuss him out on the app. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted someone striding fast, eyeing me. I looked up—it was an Arab guy winking. No doubt, him. He was hotter in person than his old, dickty pics. He exited the station, gave a quick wave, and I followed at a distance to the square’s far side.
I waited for it to clear, slipped into the public toilets, and lingered. He joined, locking the door. I panicked, clueless what to do, but he took charge—basic but effective. He pressed against me (same height), grabbing my ass and feeling it up. Not knowing where to put my hands, I went for his crotch. Wasn’t ready for that steel rod—half-hard, pointing left. His hands slid under my boxers, kneading my ass firmly, while I traced his massive cock. It was huge; I glanced up, and my scared look made him laugh—a deep, cocky chuckle. He pushed my shoulders, saying, “You gonna suck me or what?”
I knelt, and he yanked my pants down (showing off my ass). I lowered his, facing a huge—maybe 21/22cm, 6cm thick. I started with the tip, and the feel was nothing like I expected—way different having that huge chunk of meat in my mouth. Thought sucking was easy, but no—I could only take the head, terrified of disappointing him; he seemed so macho, and I wanted to impress. He guided me with gentle hip thrusts, running his hand through my hair, silent. I took more of his long, thick Arab cock, brushing his pubes, massaging his balls or ass, switching hands.
He sensed me loosening up, sped up, pushing my head deeper, slapping my face lightly, telling me to open wide and spitting in my mouth—I was in heaven. I managed deep throats, and he loved it, holding my head till I gasped or fucking my mouth with quick thrusts. It got faster; I struggled sometimes, using my hand to limit depth, but he’d pull it away, not caring if I could breathe. After 10-15 minutes of intense sucking, he grabbed my hair, tilted my head back, and with a wicked grin, ordered me to jerk him. I did, and he came fast, splattering my face. It was everywhere, and I had nothing to wipe with—toilets were bare. While he cleaned his cock and tucked it back in his DIM boxers, I mentioned my mess. He just shrugged, “Don’t care.” I tried swallowing what I could; he seemed pleased. He left first, and by the time I exited, he was gone.
That’s it for that night. We hooked up a few more times, and maybe I’ll share how he took my ass next. It’s tricky—being my first, I got attached, but by the end, I realized he didn’t give a damn, blocking me out of the blue. It hit hard; that day taught me never to get attached to a hookup—it always ends badly.