Tag Archives: first-time

First-Time Jocks in the Campground

Here’s the beginning of First-Time Jocks in the Campground, a new story by Happiest Ending!

Wayne stomped away from the campsite feeling like a spoiled child. He was twenty-one, but he was acting like a brat. He knew that. He just couldn’t stop himself.

Sheila had gone, and everyone else was fucking. Balls slapped against pussies and asses, and men grunted while women moaned. Almost the entire GHU football team was here, and they had all brought a girl. Now Wayne was the only single one in the whole site. He couldn’t bear to stick around, that was why he left.

It would be too humiliating to simply walk around the campground alone. He couldn’t do that. He had hated going anywhere alone ever since coming to college — back in high school, he was the most popular kid around, the star football jock and all-American handsome stud, and he always teased the kids who ate lunch alone.

But nearly everyone on his college football team had been the most popular kid in their high school. Wayne wasn’t special anymore. He wasn’t even the star quarterback, just a backup. Everyone thought the kicker Ronaldo Tironi was the sexiest player on the team, and he wasn’t even American — he looked more like an underwear model than an athlete anyway, Wayne thought.

Ah, yeah, suck it, bitch…

Sheila had gone because Wayne called her a bitch. He didn’t say it in an insulting way. A lot of other guys said that when they fucked. It was just dirty-talk, he thought. Wayne had, admittedly, said it a bit early — she was just starting to suck his dick when he said it — and he hadn’t said it in a sufficiently light-hearted manner like the others.

So now his entire team was off fucking their girls, probably trading females without him. His dick could do nothing more than painfully wither to full limpitude. It was so unfair.

He had grabbed his shower stuff simply because he wanted his teammates to think he was walking away for a purpose, not because he was a loser whose girl had dumped him. Maybe, he thought, they’d think she was going to fuck around with him in the shower. He headed towards the showerhouse simply because he had nowhere else to go.

Since no one was in there, and Wayne had everything he needed, he thought he might as well take a shower. He was going to do it eventually, and he’d rather do it now, when no one was around, instead of later, when all the drunk rednecks and fat-ass bikers who camped here would be showering. Wayne showered with his teammates a lot, but he didn’t cotton to the idea of showering with a bunch of fat old strangers.

The showerhouse was empty, which was nice. Wayne was glad to see that there was even hot water. The showering area was open to the stars, like an inner courtyard surrounded on all four sides by a square shelter with toilets, sinks and a baby-changing station.

The shower didn’t relax him. Even with no one around, the bikers whooping drunkenly and the prospect of strangers coming in any time were nerve-wracking for Wayne. He showered quickly.

Then someone did enter. Wayne’s heart skipped a beat, picturing some massive biker with a big swinging dick advancing towards him like the climax of a prison movie.

But it was a small man, skinny, weak, not a biker at all. He had an idle grin on his face as he entered. He glanced at Wayne but didn’t say anything to him.

Wayne didn’t want to look weird, so he turned around. It looked like the small man was going to brush his teeth, and Wayne intended to look the other way until he was gone.

“Hi,” said the man, startling Wayne. He turned around to face him. The other man looked up at him. “I’m Holly.”

“Oh. I’m Wayne,” Wayne said. He had never met someone new when they were both naked. It was awkward. He couldn’t look down without seeing Holly’s cock and balls. He couldn’t bring himself to look in any direction — what was the etiquette in a campground showerhouse anyway? — so his head rigidly stared forward, above Holly’s head, at the wall behind him.

“You look horny, Wayne,” Holly said with a giggle. Wayne realized only then that he was gay — he had a lilting flamboyance that strongly suggested it — and became nervous. He thought he should cover his crotch but that seemed silly, since Holly had been looking at it for some time now.

“Oh.” Wayne bit his lip.

“I can help,” Holly said softly. He really did sound like a woman, Wayne thought. He had a light voice with a singsong note to it, and he carried himself like a girl. Holly reached for Wayne’s dick. Wayne watched his hand move as though in slow motion. He told himself to leave, or just to tell Holly to fuck off.

First-Time Athletes at the Massage Parlor

Here’s the beginning of First-Time Athletes at the Massage Parlor, a brand-new story by the bestseller Happiest Ending!

Chase could tell from Robby’s expression that he wanted a “happy ending”. Chase couldn’t wait to get to the end. He kneaded Robby’s taut young flesh, making him moan but stifle it with his forearm. Robby wasn’t really here for a massage, but Chase didn’t intend to quit it early.

“You can roll over,” Chase said.

Robby hesitated. Chase knew exactly why — because he had an erection. Robby’s babyface tensed up. He gasped and bit his lip. This was why he had come here, after all. Robby didn’t really want the massage, it just felt less nasty to do it like this.

“O-Okay.” Robby’s voice broke. He hated how young he looked. He was almost twenty, but he looked like he was about twelve from the neck up. He had a lean and lanky body, not real muscular — no matter how much Robby ate, he couldn’t gain weight — but plenty strong. He played basketball for the GHU team and endured constant teasing about how skinny he was. He didn’t think it was fair, since a lot of his teammates were just about as skinny.

“Do you have any areas of special concern on your front side?” Chase asked. He made sure to speak as flamboyantly as he could, to make sure Robby remembered that he was gay.

“Uh… No.” Robby rolled over. The towel covering his crotch fell off too quickly for Robby to stop it, and he gasped. He closed his eyes. He had never had a stranger look at his cock, outside of his doctor, his coach, his teammates, and various other exceptions that kept filling his mind — this certainly felt new, even if it wasn’t. Chase wasn’t even the first gay man who had seen his naked cock. But Robby felt vulnerable.

“Okay. Well. Okay. Sorry.” Robby saw his dick, half-hard, flopping against his leg. Chase avoided looking at it, but that didn’t make Robby feel more comfortable.

“You don’t need to apologize. You’re fine,” Chase said. He giggled at Robby’s awkward expression. Chase massaged Robby’s stomach and “accidentally” let his elbow touch Chase’s cock, making Robby’s whole body shake. “I think I see the problem. You’re stressed. Do you have a girlfriend? I bet you don’t.”

“I don’t.” Robby’s voice was weak and wavering. “So, like… you’re gay, right?”

“Sure am.”

“Do you know about…? Well… I know you know about, y’know… penises.” Robby still sounded like he was about to cry. Chase had to hold back laughter. Robby cleared his throat. “Like… about how, y’know… they work.”

Chase frowned. “I’m not a doctor, you know that, right? You need a urologist if there’s-“

“No, I mean… Like, if I’m not… using it right? You know about that?”

Chase raised his eyebrows. Robby peeked at him, then slammed his eyes shut again. Chase smiled. “It’s not a medical issue, right?”

“No. Well, wait, maybe it is!” Robby gasped. “Look… I… How long is normal?”

“Oh, don’t worry about size, you’re plenty big enough, you-“

“No, not that. Not size. I mean how long… of time? Like how long does sex really last? Cuz in porn it lasts a while, but they take breaks, I think-“

“Don’t worry about porn, Robby,” Chase said. “Most straight men only last a few minutes. If you can make it five minutes, you’ll be doing better than most.”

“Oh.” Robby looked crestfallen.

Chase giggled. “You last less than five minutes?”

Robby blushed. “I mean… I only, y’know… I’ve only had sex three times, okay? It isn’t, like… Are you required to keep that confidential? Like a doctor?”

“Well, no, confidentiality doesn’t apply to masseurs. But don’t worry, I won’t spread it around,” he said. “I don’t think three times is a strange amount, Robby. You’re too stressed, that’s probably why you cum too quickly.”

“Oh. Will you, uh… gimme a…? Robby’s voice trailed off. He glanced at his cock.

“You want a happy ending?”

“I mean… I just, I got this girl later, I don’t wanna… She said I was a teenager, she said I acted like a teenager-“

“You do have a bit of a babyface.”

“I know! I hate it!” Robby’s eyes opened wide and he threw his hands in the air.

“Relax, relax,” Chase said. “I’ll give you a happy ending, no problem. Honestly I’m not sure if it will fix your hetero issues, but I’m not exactly hetero-competent, so I can’t help you too much with that. Just calm down and don’t worry so much. When you’re fucking her, focus on something little — you have to move your dick, but focus on something else, something more minor, like licking her neck or her ear. Whatever she thinks is hot.”


“Yeah, chicks dig that.”

“Really? Ear?” He touched his ear.

Chase giggled. He grabbed Robby’s dick, making Robby’s whole body shake and squirm. “Really. Ears.” He paused. “Maybe I’m more hetero-competent than I thought!”

“Okay. Thanks!” Robby said, his cheeks bright red. Then he gasped as his dick throbbed in Chase’s hand.

“Now hush. Let the professional do his work,” Chase said. He began rubbing his hand up and down Robby’s shaft.

The Flight Attendant: First-Time Straight to Gay

Here’s a sample from the beginning of The Flight Attendant: First-Time Straight to Gay, a story by Ricky Chandler, who’s new to this site!


It had been a few weeks now since I joined the airline. I always wanted to be a flight attendant and now that I was it was so fulfilling flying around the country and taking people from destination to destination. The proudest moment was when I got to put the little plastic wing badge on my pocket. Going through the training program was very rigorous.


During the training, although it was rigorous, I developed some really good friendships. All of the other guys were very well groomed and well mannered. Whenever we would go on the training events they were always there hanging out after our shift in different cities. We would walk around and see some really cool sites in the cities.


Although I had started a few weeks ago it was already time for me to graduate from my training this coming Friday. I decided I would wear one of my tight muscle shirts which was also a collared shirt. I just felt very confident that shirt and I wanted to look good.

The Redneck Ravages a Saudi Princess

This is a sample chapter from The Redneck Ravaging of a First-Time Saudi Princess, a new story of redneck erotica and one naughty Arab virgin, written by the great Afra Zaman!

Rafah had a bounce in her step as she left the apartment. It was her first day in her new home in America, the first day she could exercise her freedoms fully. Her opulent apartment took up the entire top floor of the largest building in Houston, and she was overjoyed to have all that room to herself. Back in Saudi Arabia, she lived in a palace but never felt like it was really her space.

Equally as exciting was the prospect of decorating all that room. She could put whatever she wanted there, without getting approval from her father, mother or any of the servants. She had never been allowed to even choose the color of the sheets on her bed, but now she could buy whatever she wanted.

There were poor people all over Houston. Rafah wasn’t used to them being allowed near her, and she tried to stay away. They looked dangerous and rough; they made her shudder with fear when she walked past. But she didn’t want to look like an elitist, which she knew was considered wrong here in America, so she just ignored them the best she could. That’s what the others on the street seemed to do, ignoring them even when they screamed drunken insults on the street-corner.

The sun felt good on her face. She had rarely felt it back in her native Saudi Arabia, and if her father had known she were walking around with her face fully exposed, she’d be in so much trouble she would never be allowed out of the palace again.

There was a store called “Fast Eddie’s Outdoor Supplies”. Rafah had no idea what that was, but she liked the outdoors — now that she could experience it without a hijab in her way — and wanted to see what an American store was like. So she hurried through the doors; not wanting to seem like an idiot foreigner, she strode confidently, as though she knew what she was looking for.

She felt out-of-place. The patrons and the old man behind the counter were all white, and they looked like Americans from the movies — they were big, hairy, with grizzled chins and flannel shirts, dirt-scuffed clothes that no Saudi man would be caught dead in. They looked like farmers, she thought, like what she thought an American farmer probably looked like. Was that what “Outdoor Supplies” were? Farms were outdoors, after all.

But these appeared to be tents, knives and military equipment, with some camping gear and other items Rafah didn’t recognize. She walked through the aisles as though she knew what to do in this place. Hillbillies! She didn’t exactly remember what that word meant, but she felt confident these Americans qualified.

There was a knife. It was only ten dollars, and it looked like it might actually be useful for slicing fruit and the like; more importantly, it would make it look like she had a reason to shop here. Rafah walked to the counter.

The men were staring at her as though she shouldn’t be there. Rafah wondered if she had been mistaken — she had thought women were allowed to go anywhere in America, but these men watched her like they were astonished she would go shopping on her own. Was she mistaken? Had they already called the cops?

“That’ll be ten-fifty-six,” said the cashier.

Rafah was unsure, but she handed over a ten-dollar bill and a one. The price had said $10. She wasn’t sure why she was being charged more, but she didn’t get the feeling she was being ripped off. It was probably some sort of fee or tax, she thought, though she didn’t understand why it wasn’t included in the price.

“Hey, sweetheart,” said one of the other customers, a younger man with a drawling accent and thick arms that were bare in his sleeveless shirt. “You new around here, huh?”

Rafah nodded.

“You want me to show you around?”

Rafah said no and stepped away, then stopped herself. “I… I was wondering if you could show me where some other stores are. I don’t know this area.”

“Course, darling,” he said, walking towards the door with her. “My truck is right outside. I’ll show you anything you wanna see.”

Rafah would never have even spoken to a strange man back in Saudi Arabia. Even here in America, she was so nervous she wouldn’t have done it if there weren’t a brand-new, sharp knife in her purse. She kept her hand very near it as she followed him outside.

He led her to the parking lot behind the store, where a large, mud-splattered red truck sat. He opened the passenger side door and put his hands down as a step for her to use to get in. She blushed at the realization that she would need to touch him to do so.

Her foot gingerly landed on his hand, and he lifted. She put her arm on his shoulder, which was bare sticking out from his sleeveless shirt. His skin was hot and taut, and his muscles bulged, and in the half-a-moment it took for him to hoist her into the cab of the truck, Rafah recalled every man she had ever thought was sexy. A lifetime of repressed sexuality washed over, and away from, her.

She was alone in the truck for a moment. Rafah felt an urge to start masturbating, but she repressed it. The man hopped into the driver’s seat and smiled at her.

“Well, missie, my name is Darryl, by the way, what was you hopin’ to find? I can show you the Wal-Mart or-“

She kissed him right on the lips. Rafah had never touched a man like that; she did it without thought, and would surely have never done it if she had thought about it first. He felt impossibly hot; the scruffy hair on his chin scratched her face.

At first he resisted, out of surprise. His hands touched her shoulders, pushing her away. Then he stopped and kissed her back. His tongue pushed into her mouth.

He pulled away from her, grinning like a fool. “I was not expecting a woman like you to be so forward.”

“A woman like me?”

“You know, a woman from… wherever you’re from,” he said. He blushed.

“Saudi Arabia. Women from there are not forward. They are most modest,” she said. She blushed and kissed him again. “I am an exception.”

He groaned loudly and leaned back as his hands roamed up her body. When he touched her tits, Rafah’s nipples stuck out; they were exquisitely sensitive now, and every touch of his fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure up her spine.

Something hot was in her hands. Rafah hadn’t even realized she was instinctually reaching for his crotch. As shame flooded through her, she saw herself — as though from a distance — undoing the fly of his jeans.

“Yee-haw, damn, you are one explosive fucking broad-“ he muttered, then stopped himself. “That wasn’t racist. Pun not intended.”

She didn’t actually know what he was referring to, but she guessed it was friendly enough from his tone. She was too entranced by his thick prick between her fingers; she had never seen a penis before, besides her brothers when they were young; she had certainly never touched one.

It was hot and pulsating in her fingers, as Darryl’s own fingers crept down from her tits to her skirt — it was the shortest skirt she felt comfortable wearing, though it seemed conservative compared to how most young American women dressed. He gripped her thigh, his biceps flexing as he held her tight and ran his fingers up and down the side of her legs.

Precum leaked out the tip of his cock, lubricating her hand. She was stroking it now, and exulting in the feeling of power it gave her to see how Darryl spasmed from pleasure due to her touch. She had never had such an impact on a person.

When his finger touched her clit, Rafah threw her head back and moaned. She had fingered herself before but it never felt like this. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the situation they were in or because his work-callused fingers were rough and stubbled, providing additional texture as he massaged her clitoris.

“You a virgin?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of hope.

She gasped an affirmative but wordless answer as her pussy was throbbing at his tough and she couldn’t speak. Her clitoris burned beneath his grasp.

“You’s a natural,” he said, matter-of-factly. He leaned over to her and kissed her on the cheek, his scruffy beard scratching at her chin. She moaned.

There were people walking by behind them, but the body of Darryl’s truck was so big it blocked their view. Rafah’s heart pounded though she didn’t think they saw what was happening in the cab. She wondered how shocking it would be if they were caught here in America; in Saudi Arabia, it would be the end of her world. But here, she didn’t know, and the thrill of risk intensifed her climax. Her mind raced with thoughts of what her father would do if he knew she was doing this. Oh well, she thought, this doesn’t count anyway, I’m still a virgin.

An orgasm ripped through Rafah. It felt nothing like it did when masturbating, she thought as her back wrenched and her toes curled. She flailed, slamming her body into the back of the seat and kicking the truck with her feet as powerful waves of pleasure washed over him.

She had never imagined it would be like this — she was expecting shame, humiliation and despair. But what she felt was freedom, and an uplifting, nervewracking orgasm that began deep in her pussy before emanating outward in powerful waves of peasure. She groaned and exclaimed in Arabic.

He chuckled as she went, then grunted when he reached his own orgasm. His body roiled and his hairy muscles beneath that sleeveless t-shirt all flexed at once, then loosened.

Hot, creamy cum jetted from his dick and covered her fingers. Rafah smiled at the sticky feeling covering her hand, something she had never experienced before. She giggled as Darryl moaned; he sounded surprised at how good this felt, and maybe a little embarrassed.

Rafah took a deep breath. She wiped her hand off, nervous now that the sex-part was over — that had felt natural. Every animal could do that. Rafah wasn’t sure how to talk to him now.

“Redneck.” Rafah blurted, the word having just now popped into her head.


“Is that… what you are? A redneck?” she asked.

He laughed. “Uh, yeah, yes I am. You must be real new to these parts, huh?”

“I’m new to a lot of things,” she said with a smile.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “Welcome to America, miss. You gonna fit in real good.”