Sex stories

Romuald is a guy — more handsome than him, you won’t find. When I go clubbing with him, the bouncer spots us from far away and waves us in before everyone else. I hear guys in the line saying “that one’s a bomb,” and the jealous ones go “there’s the princess.” Inside, the hottest guys in Paris are staring at him. There’s this silent court around him. Me, his boy, I envy him.

“And Renato?” I ask him (a really hot guy he dated and dumped after one week).
— “Nah, don’t like him. Small dick.”
— “Really… I heard he was well hung though.”
— “18 cm for me? That’s not well hung.”
— “Yeah but… Renato’s a bomb…”

Actually Renato was like 100 meters away from our VIP section, watching us while sipping his Black Gins. He was looking at Romuald like he was crushed.

— “And Rodolphe, the Dutch guy? He was hot too, you dumped him as well?”
— “Lol… small dick too.”
— “Ok… so for you that’s a very important criterion…”
— “Yeah.”

As the night goes on, the crowd of hot guys around him keeps growing. All the hottest guys in Europe are checking him out. There’s even a leather couple who took off their shirts to show off their perfect bodies.

— “Damn, look at them!!”
— “Yeah not bad but a bit too much.”

Romuald seems more interested in some guy in the back wearing a grey sweater. It’s a tall Arab guy, a bit thick-built (we didn’t even know what he was doing there).

— “Who are you looking at?” I ask
— “That guy over there in grey.”

I start laughing…
— “Him?? You’re crazy, he’s basic. With all the bombs here, that’s the one you pick?”
— “He’s sexy.”

After staring at him for a while, the Arab guy notices and raises his glass shyly. Romuald smiles back and signals him to come.

The tall Arab guy, a bit surprised, leaves his table and joins us.
— “Good evening”
— “Hey, I’m Romuald”
— “I’m Samir. Nice club. I’m not used to places like this but I got invited by the owner’s cousin, I know him well.”
— “But you’re gay? You don’t look like it.”
— “No, I’m bi.”
— “You got a girlfriend?”
— “Yeah but we broke up not long ago.”

While they’re talking, all the hot guys around are gossiping and watching Samir.

Then Romuald whispers something in his ear. They both stand up and leave the VIP, leaving me alone.
“Kevin, we’re going to the bar to grab something, we’ll be back,” he tells me.
— “Alright.”

He comes back 30 minutes later without Samir, looking completely spaced out (I’ve never seen him like that).

— “So where’s Samir?”
— “Nah, he left.”
— “What did you do with him?”
— “I sucked him in the toilets.”
— “Oh…”

He looks at me with a rare slutty smile (he almost never smiles, I swear).
“I’ve never sucked a dick that good in my life.”

— “No way…”
— “HUGE… must’ve been like 25 cm… thick as hell, insane… I was sucking him like crazy, he kept spitting in my mouth, insulting me in Arabic… I’ve never enjoyed something that much.”
— “Did he fuck you?”
— “He was too turned on, he just came in my mouth… damn that thick cum, the amount was insane… like a whole bottle.”
— “You gonna see him again?”
— “Of course… you crazy? Come on let’s leave.”
— “Already?”
— “Yeah I’m done here, this place is boring now.”

We get up. Suddenly the leather couple from earlier walks up to us. One of them talks to Romuald:

“Hey you, princess. You’ve been teasing us all night, little bitch. Just so you know, we were Mister San Francisco two years in a row. And you’ve got the nerve to ignore us and go fuck some random Arab dude in the toilets? I’ll blacklist you everywhere, we know a lot of people.”

— “Lol… leather couches over there,” Romuald answers
— “You bitch, you still got Arab cum in your mouth”
— “Hell yeah.”