Tony

I knew he was an angel the first moment I saw him.

I can still picture him even after all these years, like it was yesterday. Like it was five minutes ago. Like it was happening right now.

I was 23, in my last semesters of college, young, dumb and full of cum, and he... he was just perfect. 

At the beginning of the night I met him I was just a dumb dude at a party. Yes, one of those dumb dudes, and one of those parties. I was single, horny, and out on the hunt for girls. 

It wasn't hard for me to get a girl to fuck, a different one every week if I wanted. I had the looks, the body, the attitude and the dick, and I was walking around at the party, dancing, priming myself up for a night of fun and hopefully sex. 

Until I saw him.

It would have been so easy to miss him, so simple. He was short, blond, slight and kinda kept to himself. It was like he carried a void with him that made people go elsewhere. He was standing there next to a wall, chilling out with a glass on his hand. Later I found out he wasn't even drinking alcohol. 

He raised his eyes and looked at me the same moment I looked at him, and our eyes met.

When Tony met Maria, the entire world went dark and there was just one light for the two of them, and all they could see was each other. I always thought it was one of the corniest scenes ever filmed. But my mom loved it, that's why I watched it so many times and I knew by heart all that stupid music and all those stupid sideways dance steps.

I hated that scene and how unrealistic it was and how it could never happen... and then it happened to me.

Seriously, when I saw his eyes it was like the rest of the world disappeared, like I was physically incapable of perceiving anyone else but him. And his face lit up me like he recognized me, like he knew I had to be there and he had been waiting for me. 

And I looked at him.

And he looked at me.

I don't know how long we spent like that, it could have been two seconds or two hours, for my time had frozen and all i could perceive was him. I wanted to walk to him, I wanted to get close, but it was like my body had stopped responding. I was as frozen as time.

But then he smiled a slow, deliberate smile, a smile that contained all his soul in it and climbed up to his eyes, and nodded at me, and it was like I was unshackled. I felt myself breathing, I felt my heart pumping, and I could move again and there was only one direction I could move.

My eyes remember everything, but my ears don't recall nothing about that night. The music didn't happen, other conversations didn't happen, it was like everything was written on glass and then washed away. And I can't even remember how I talked to him or how he talked to me. 

He told me his name was Tony.

If that means I was Maria there it's not like I cared. You could summarize one hour of conversation with that: He told me his name was Tony and he was looking at me exactly how I wanted no one else but him to look at me.

Then we held each other's hand and went to the dancefloor. I had never danced with a guy before but this felt so right, so perfect, his eyes on mine and his body next to mine and his hands touching my skin every now and then...

I wanted him, I wanted him so much I couldn't fight it, so much I did not want to fight it, I just let it happen because I couldn't do anything else. I couldn't lie to myself when I saw myself in his eyes. And then these beautiful blue eyes were getting closer, closer, filling all my consciousness, his eyes were my entire universe and then we both closed our eyes and his lips met mine.

His mouth was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted. It was like all the mouths I'd ever kissed had been just a rehearsal, a pale shadow of this kiss. This, him, was the real thing, the first true kiss of my life. His body next to mine was the first real body I'd ever touched. I felt like all my life before him had been a dream and I was just waking up.

My friends saw everything happen, and there was a lot of conversation going around us that I didn't notice. A girl I was kinda dating walked in right when we were kissing and left crying... and I didn't notice. All I could notice was him.

I wanted him. And I wanted more. And I wanted more of him. The barriers between us were disappearing so much that I couldn't say which one of us suggested going somewhere else and which one said "yes" under his breath. All i know is that we were grabbing our things and walking out to the fresh night and took a car to my house. 

He had the kind of touch that turns everything into gold. My house felt different the second he walked in, like it was a space apart from everything where only he and I existed, a world made for two, and when we walked in the bedroom and closed the door it was like closing the door to the whole universe. 

We were here and now, just him and me looking at each other in silence. 

Words would have been a waste of the air we were breathing together right now. 

It was like there was a light inside him that pulled me towards him and all I could do was follow that light and reflect it towards him. I wasn't me anymore, I was just a reflection of him, and even if he was shorter than me, slimmer, smaller, I felt like I was the small one, like I was looking at a mountain I could barely dream to climb. 

He smiled and pulled me towards him and kissed me again, now with more intent. I wanted it and I knew he wanted it, and I'd never wanted to fuck a guy but right now I wanted to fuck him more than I'd wanted anything in my life. 

I slid my hands under his shirt and pulled it up and he raised his arms and let me take it off. He  had the most perfect skin ever. So smooth and soft and completely hairless, with two small pink nipples that made my mouth water. He was just... so beautiful. 

I went down and licked his chest, and he moaned softly under my mouth and his skin tasted like desire, like lust, like anything I had ever wanted. 

There's a book that says that man laying with man is a sin, that it shouldn't happen and that they should be shunned. The authors of this book had never met Tony, or they would be writing something completely different. There is no way that something could be wrong when it felt so right. Being there with him, kissing him, touching him, felt like the greatest thing I'd ever done.

He took my shirt off and we embraced again and his skin seemed to sing against mine, so warm I felt like could never be cold again the rest of my life. This was perfect. He was perfect. He and I together, kissing and embracing and feeling our naked skins against each other... that was perfect.

There was no hurry, this night was entirely ours and it felt like it could last for as long as we wanted. I pinned him against the wall and went down on his chest again, and when he put his hands behind his head, showing me his armpits, the scent of him made me lose control.

Told in a story, burying my face on a guy's armpits and licking them sounds absolutely disgusting, but it was not. It was not at all. Just like every part of him his armpits were perfect and filled me with lust and the scent and taste of them was the scent and taste of him, and he was all perfect. 

His hands flew to the front of my pants and opened my belt and pulled down my fly. It felt good. I was hard, I had been hard since we had danced together a lifetime ago in a party that could as well have happened before the big bang, and his hand in my crotch just showed me how much I wanted him, how much all of my body wanted all of his body.

All of his body... 

I couldn't stop myself, I took off his pants and admired the beauty of him, more and more beautiful the more naked he was. There was some kind of irresistible appeal on the line his legs formed where they joined the white fabric of  his brief, on the trail of blond hairs going down his stomach, so light that they were barely there... it was like I was watching a work of art and I knew I had to fill my eyes with him because there wouldn't be a second chance, I had been given this for one night and tomorrow was not even a promise.

He took off my pants and made me turn away to caress my back and my ass, and then held me, with his hands playing in my chest and his body against my back. It was like his hands were made of electricity and every place he touched me there was pure delight. I melted in his arms and leaned back against him, feeling his warm bulge on my ass and not questioning it. Yes, he was a man and he had a cock, and he was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I liked feeling his hard cock through or clothes and know it showed how much he wanted me.

He pressed on my back and made me bend over a little and rubbed his bulge on me. I heard myself moan, like it wasn't a conscious process, like my mouth was completely apart of my mind and had decided to tell him what he made me feel. I heard him laugh softly: he liked hearing my moans. He grabbed my hips and did it again, harder, and I just loved feeling that hard shaft rubbing on my ass. 

That hard shaft...

Again, my body was ahead of me, moving before I knew what I was doing. I turned back and knelt in front of him and it felt right to be on my knees. He was so perfect, so magnificent... what I felt was not only lust or love but something deeper and greater. I was in awe at him, in wonder, in complete adoration. I knew he was much more than me and it was a gift for me to be allowed in his presence.

I looked up at him in a silent question, and he smiled an nodded at me in a silent answer. 

I slid his briefs down his legs. I did it slowly, knowing that I was revealing a treasure, but I wasn't ready for what I revealed. Just looking at his cock made my heart start beating faster, my own cock get fully hard and a wonderful erotic rush take over the last rests of my mind. I stopped thinking, I just felt and I just felt desire. I didn't try to question or explain why it was so desirable, it just was. I needed it, and before I knew what I was doing I leaned forward and got it in my mouth.

That cock in my mouth made me feel complete, like it was something I had been waiting for all my life without knowing, like it belonged in my mouth and my mouth belonged around it. Sucking him was a gift that nothing and no one could take away from me. If I had to die the next second or the next day, I would go happy knowing that I got to suck his cock before I died.

He wasn't just letting me suck him, no. He held my head and gently guided me, pushed me, encouraged me to go deeper and faster until I was gagging on him, struggling for air and with tears running down my cheeks, and still I wanted more. 

He pushed me apart a bit and held my chin and looked at me directly in the eyes and It was like I existed just to want him and feel him. He smiled and then pointed to the bed with his eyes.

Yes. Bed. The place where the miracle of sex happens. The final step of his conquest of me, the final stop in the path of my capture. I was barely able to stand and walk the few steps until I fell on the bed with him on top of me.

He got me naked, and I was like a rag doll in his hands. I was the most turned on I've ever been but my cock wasn't hard at all. My body knew what parts of it would take part on this, and my cock was not one of them. I didn't even think of it. 

He was leaning above me, kissing me and going up and down my body, his hands and his lips weaving a net of pleasure in which I was completely trapped. Every part of my body he touched and kissed surrendered to him. My body was no longer mine, it belonged to him, and when he opened my legs and lined his cock with the entrance of my ass it felt completely natural. He wanted to fuck, and I wanted him to fuck me.

He pushed slowly, patiently opening me to receive him. It felt like a sword, like a red hot rod getting inside me a little bit more with every thrust until he was completely inside me.

It felt right.

Getting fucked by him, having his cock buried deep inside my body, felt absolutely right and perfect. This was like destiny, like the entire history of the universe had the only purpose of creating me to get fucked by him. The couple seconds before he began thrusting felt like an eternity of perfection and joy, having finally found the reason of my existence.

And he fucked me, harder and harder, his expression growing more intense and his body language getting more dominant, and he pushed my legs up until I was almost bent in half, getting fucked at full speed and loving every second of it.

I could tell that he was getting closer to orgasm. His breath was ragged, his cock was throbbing inside me, and all his muscles were tensing. Yes, this was it. As much as I could need and want, I wanted him to cum inside me, I needed the gift of his seed, deep in me. And this was getting closer, closer, closer... it was like I could feel him in my own body, the slow surge of cum, the pressure building up on his cock until that final glorious moment when it erupted in a flash of pleasure, while all his body shook and twitched and a wave of bliss began in my ass and took over my entire body, like a full body orgasm that didn't even need me to cum, because his own orgasm was better to me than any of my own.

*** 

The next morning I woke up to him looking at me with those deep blue eyes, looking at me like I wanted him to look at me forever, but somehow I knew deep inside it couldn't happen.

He wouldn't stay, and it was okay. 

I already had one night with him, and that was more than most men in the world would ever have and they didn't even know what they were missing. Even if he left right now I was one of the lucky ones. 

And then he leaned forward and kissed me and I held on to that kiss for as long as I could, trying to make it last forever, trying to engrave every single detail of him in my memory, and then he gave me one last smile and got dressed in silence, and left.

I found a couple golden hairs in my pillow and I put them in a small envelope, and some nights when I'm alone I open it and look at them, and is like I can smell his scent again and feel his lips against mine. 

He told me his name was Tony, but I'm not sure it was.

I live, and laugh, and love. There have been girls there and I've loved nearly all of them, but none of them that way. Still, love is love, and I love them as much as I can and most of the time it's been enough for them and me, because I learned to love from the best of teachers. 

I've never seen him again, and in time I learned to be back to myself. A part of me is always looking out for him, hoping that he will be behind the next corner in the golden sun of a September afternoon, even if I know he won't be. He's out there teaching people to love, because that's what he was born to do: To love and be loved. I already got one night and some strands of hair, and that's the count of my blessings.

And when someone tells me that I love too much for my own good, I smile thinking they don't know what they're saying and they don't know where I learned it. There is love, and then there's true love, and I feel sorry for them who don't know the difference. And all I have to do is close my eyes to go back to that night, when I learned how it's like to love someone with all your being and be loved back in return.