This is about the difference between attraction and… I don’t know what, is it lust?

A couple of years ago I was chatting, to be honest I was probably hunting, online and got talking to a guy and discussing what we were looking for.  He was still very much in the ‘curious’ camp and wanted to know more about my (really quite limited) experience.  Before long we’d exchanged numbers and were chatting on the phone. He told me that he had long had gay or bi fantasies and used gay porn a lot but hadn’t taken that first step to actually meeting another man.  He said he was getting quite hard after hearing about some of my exploits and after a couple of chats he invited me to his place. He lived alone so any time worked for him. 
I got in the car quite excited about the prospect of what would happen after the half hour drive.  But at that moment I also realised that the guy’s profile didn’t have a picture, so I had no idea what he looked like, apart from the vague self-description he’d given me, and we all know how accurate they can be (I’m the spitting image of Clint Eastwood!).

His house had one of those addresses for which satnav can, at times, be rather less than helpful so I wasted about another 15 minutes finding the place.  Frustrating when you know you’re probably yards away but can’t quite pin down the exact destination.
I finally found the place, parked a little way away and rang the bell. As the door opened, I had to consciously control myself to prevent my face giving away my disappointment.  I won’t describe the guy to avoid offence, after all he was no Quasimodo and lots of men and women would find him attractive but let’s just say, he just wasn’t my “type”.

Bound by common courtesy, I couldn’t just walk away so I stepped in and accepted his offer of a cuppa. We engaged in small talk in the kitchen while the kettle boiled and then moved into his sitting room.  The conversation went round in circles for a while, what he did, what I did – kids – past marriage, how long we’d known we were bi. 

He looked up at me just as I was about to thank him and get going – the lack of attraction had made it clear to me that nothing was going to happen – and he said, “I feel the need to get my cock out”. And he did.  He slipped his trousers and pants down around his ankles and started playing with himself and I watched a very impressive member growing in his hand.

Then I surprised myself!

Before I really knew what I was doing, I was flying across the room, and I found myself on my knees between his. I lifted his hand away and replaced it with my own and stroked.  Despite him being almost the opposite of my “type” (I still don’t really know what that is) he had the most perfectly shaped penis and a nice, smooth looking head bursting out from a foreskin that was making its own way back, I helped it finish the task.  Cupping his balls with one hand I gently stroked his shaft with the other before leaning down to gently take the generous tip into my mouth.  I ran my tongue around the head and then dug my tip into the eye.
His whole-body shook, “Oh yes, that’s…” He could finish the sentence but was clearly enjoying himself, as, inexplicably, was I.
I remember the thought going through my mind, here I am with a guy who really doesn’t float my boat but I still have his cock in my mouth.
I started taking him in more deeply and he pushed in between my lips and I regularly worked my tongue around the tip of his penis.  Doing that made my own cock grow and I had to release it from my underwear.  It was a bit cumbersome but without breaking oral contact I managed to loosen my belt to gain access to my own now rather enlarged member. A rub with my thumb told me that my cock was dripping with precum, so I used the self-lube to rub my gland gently while continuing with my very unexpectedly erotic activity but eventually I had to really start pleasuring myself because he made it perfectly clear that he was having a great time.  It was really just a series of grunts and heavy breathing and the odd “Yes” or “O God” and other unfinished exclamations, all accompanied by the increasingly frenzied up and down of his hips.
It wasn’t long before I knew he was close, but I really needed some air and to adjust my back and legs as I began to realise I wasn’t kneeling in a particularly comfortable position.  Another four seconds and I’d have had a nice mouthful, but he was even closer than I thought, and as I took a gulp of air and moved my knees, his cock erupted with a fountain of come.  With ninja-like speed he snatched a handful of tissues from a box beside him to catch the rest so I didn’t even get the chance to lean back in for a taste but seeing his orgasm made me cum, and the ninja was back handing me some tissues.
After the cleanup there was a bit of an awkward moment as we got our clothes back in order and then it was back to the small talk. We had both enjoyed ourselves, we thanked each other and had an awkward handshake as I said goodbye.

 A novel experience which, even a couple of year later, I recognise as having learned something about myself but I’m still processing what that was.  I recall being turned on by the idea that mine was the first male mouth to have pleasured that cock and I enjoyed the sensation and to this day, I don’t quite understand why!