Once I was hitchhiking back to my college after visiting my girlfriend at UCLA. We'd had great sex, like always, and I was still pretty jacked up and horny from the weekend. Near Malibu a guy picked me up, he was friendly and attractive, and we had a nice conversation as he drove me up the coast.
I noticed that he kept glancing at my crotch, and figured out that he was gay. He didn't have a reason to be driving up the coast, except maybe he thought he might score with me-or maybe he just liked my company.
I told him I'd been visiting my girlfriend and he asked lots of questions about how we had sex, in great detail. It made me a little horny again.
Anyway, when we got near to my town, he asked if he could pull over along the beach. I said 'Ok'. I thought maybe he wanted to masturbate together. When we parked--well, I don't remember just what he said or how the whole thing went, but I remember that almost right away I pulled my pants down and my boner flopped up, and really fast his head was down and my boner was deep into his throat. It felt pretty good, but I remember I was disappointed because really I wanted to stroke it myself.
Anyway, uncontrollably, I came really quickly, almost mechanically, and it was all over. I pulled up my pants, and I don't think we said a word until he dropped me off.
That night, in bed, I thought of my encounter, and I couldn't really understand why he would be so thrilled by my cock, but I hoped that he was anyway. Then memories of my girlfriend took over, her beautiful creamy breasts with nipples begging to be kissed, and her warm legs wrapped around my body, and the damp of her crotch, and the smell of her surrender to our sex, and I forgot about the man in the car.
I've never told anyone about this before, it seemed both inconsequential, and very cheap and dirty. But now I've told you....