I’m a 38 year old Nuyorican, meaning my parents were born in Puerto Rico and I was born in The Bronx.
Like most, I don’t speak much Spanish—one of the few things I can say is ‘No Soy Pasivo’, which is I don’t bottom. I can roll my R’s, especially while eating ass or if there just happens to be a cock in my mouth.
New York City is a great place to be if you’re a gay sexual being like me. I’ve been having sex since I was fourteen years old; I’ve been cruising since I was fifteen. I have enough experience that if being a slut were an Olympic sport, I’d come in Bronze.
At the age of 38, my sex drive has not changed one bit since I started my sexual adventures. The secret is really simple: it’s all in your mindset. Do what you love and you’ll never tire of it. For me that’s making sure my partner (whoever I’m fooling around with at the time) cums and has a great time. I’m just like most New Yorkers, we are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Especially when it comes to fun in the sheets.
NYC is a great place to meet a variety of men, all types shapes and sizes. When I turned eighteen, I decided to challenge myself and started a checklist of men to hook up with. In that first year I got to check off a pilot, a cop while in uniform, and a fireman (years later I was able to check off fireman on a fire truck…that’s a story for another time). But this story is about my first international slut trip and my first cowboy.
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A few years after starting my list, I met a few guys visiting NYC from Australia on the dance floor of one of the greatest nightclubs that’s unfortunately no longer around, a bar named Splash. After that night we became friends and stayed in contact. They said I had a place to stay if I ever decided to visit Sydney. A couple years later I took them up on that offer.
I was ten minutes early to gain entry to Bodyline, a local bathhouse in Sydney that was recommended by my friend I was visiting and staying with. Just as he predicted, getting there ten minutes early will get you third place in line. Also they had the best special for entry—if you arrived within the first fifteen minutes of doors opening, you got in for 10 Australian dollars.
Getting there early gave me an opportunity to cruise. The guy that ended up standing behind me wore a white tank top that left nothing to the imagination. I wanted to touch his beautiful muscles and bury my face in his hairy chest.
Since we were both on line to have sex with other men, I took the opportunity to introduce myself. After a few minutes of chatting, I let him know I was interested and what I hoped to do to him—and with him.
Sexy Chest rejected my advances. Though he appreciated what I said he explained that he was there to meet his top. I thought that was incredibly hot and asked him for details. He told me it’s a guy he meets once a month at the bathhouse. The guy is married with kids but loved to fuck men, and they have been fucking once a month for 10 years. As he started sharing details, I began to get turned on and asked if I could watch. He said yes but only if his top allowed it. Hearing those words got me extremely excited and I hoped to watch him get fucked.
He saw my excitement, rubbed my shorts, and said he hoped his top would allow me to join in. I asked if I could touch his chest, and he agreed. I stroked his chest before motorboating him for just a few seconds. I was getting a bit too excited on line and the bathhouse had not opened yet. We stopped ourselves from playing on the street and before his top would arrive.
As Sexy Chest and I continued to chat, a gentleman dressed like a cowboy walked past. He had a nice tan-colored cowboy hat, black tee, blue jeans, and a large oval cowboy belt buckle. Walking past, his smile caused us both to stop chatting and stare. I nodded in response to his smile, and he winked in return. He continued to make his way to the back of the line, becoming entry number 14 or 15. Sexy Chest whispered in my ear, “It’s okay if you let him skip the line to join you up here.”
“No way,” I replied. “It would not be fair to the others.” He was quick to stop me. “Don’t say that when Sir arrives.” I remember laughing and then hearing the clerk opening the doors, saying “Come on in!” Before walking in, I looked back to the cowboy to see him looking at me. I smiled and nodded my head back at him before making my way inside.
In my exploration of the bathhouse, I came upon a very sexy daddy sitting down on a chair watching porn. He opened his towel and started to jerk off when he saw me. He signaled for me to come over and then dropped to his knees. As I approached him, I took my towel off and placed it over my shoulders. By the time I was in front of him, I was fully erect. The feeling of his warm mouth slowly going from the tip of my cock down to my groin was incredible. When my dick hit the back of his throat on his second thrust, he began shooting his load all over my legs and the floor.
He apologized for coming so fast. I told him not to be sorry. I thought it sexy and hot being able to help a sexy daddy like him to cum so fast. He asked if I wanted to cum, but I said not yet. He thanked me as I headed to the showers to clean off his large creamy load from my legs and feet.
As soon as I was done rinsing myself clean, I turned the shower off and grabbed my towel. As I walked toward the exit, in walks the cowboy. Upon seeing his body, I had to do an immediate double-take, from his crotch to his head, back to his crotch again after realizing he had red hair.
On my second glance, he was quick to draw his hand onto his piece and give it a nice tug. Realizing I was caught, I smiled. When our eyes met again, he signaled for me to join him in the shower. I placed my towel on the hook and turned on the shower at the open spot next to him.
As soon as the last bit of soap was rinsed off his thick muscled body, he dropped to his knees and started to blow me. Someone walked in and said, “No fucking in the showers.” He got up and we both apologized for forgetting the bathhouse rules. When he spoke, I took note of his familiar accent.
As he led me to the play area, I asked where he was from. My sexy cowboy was a real cowpoke from the great state of Texas. He was the first Texan I’d met, and I was the first Nuyorican he’d met. As soon as we entered the play space, he began to blow me again.
This time with no interruption, he arched his body in a way that popped his ass up and out, creating the most incredible, sexy curves. My already throbbing erection was getting even harder. I leaned down and slapped his ass, causing him to moan a bit and suck harder on me.
Before I could finish, he got up, kissed me, and in his Texan accent he whispered, “I want you to fuck me.” He grabbed one of his condoms and while getting back down to his knees, he unwrapped it. He rolled the condom onto my dick using his mouth, and when it was to his satisfaction, he stood up again and spit on his fingertips to lube his hole. Spitting on his hand a second time, he grabbed my penis and guided me into him.
We started off going very slowly, as he was incredibly tight. He said I was thicker than he was used to, which just made me want to pound him immediately, but he was still guiding me into his tight hole. Once fully inside him, he let out the most whimsical moans.
I fucked him doggy style for a few minutes. The beat of his ass clapping against my groin was like heaven to my ears. We were making music with our bodies. In the heat of our beat, he asked me to lay down, he was getting close to coming and he wanted to ride me.
We moved to the other side of the open play area where there was a matted area like a bed where he could ride me. Once inside him, my dick was hitting him differently. Each time he went back down on it, his ass would tighten profoundly. It was like nothing I had experienced before, and I was unsure how much longer I could last. The combination of the tight grasp and the look on his face—his eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy—was getting me overly excited and I started to thrust even harder.
As I started to express that I was going to cum, his eyes locked with mine and he shouted, “I’m coming!” Just as my cum exploded, his load poured all over my chest and belly. He climbed off me and began to eat it off my body.
Afterwards we cleaned ourselves off and made plans to meet again that evening at a bar, just a short walking distance from the bathhouse.
That night I arrived about 15 minutes early to find my cowboy waiting for me at the bar. We kissed, ordered a beer, and I took the seat next to him. A few beers later, and about an hour into conversation, I learned he was in town for work. He didn’t say much about the job, just that he was a cattleman, and he was not out to his colleagues. Since he was in shared lodging for work, he asked me if I could host that evening. He wanted to spend the night together, then wake up and fuck again for breakfast before he had to go into work. I was staying with friends, so I couldn’t host either.
Almost in unison we said, “Let’s go to the bathroom!” and immediately began to laugh. He grabbed my hand and led the way. I was fully erect before we stepped foot into the restroom.
Once inside the private bathroom, he locked the door, placed his cowboy hat on the top of my head, then dropped to his knees and started to blow me again. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a condom, passing it down to him knowing we didn’t have much time to fuck.
He placed the condom in his pocket and continued to blow me. As he did so, he lowered his buckle and pants just low enough. I could see his full ass in a pair of white Fruit of the Loom briefs, and I desperately wanted to fuck him again.
He stood up, took his cowboy hat off my head, and placed it back on his own. In a low voice he said, “I want you to breed this cowboy.” He spat into his hand and began to rub the spit on my dick. He then told me to spit in his hand and used that to lube himself up before grabbing my dick and guiding me inside him one more time.
His tight, eager hole took me in with ease. Once I was fully in, he leaned back—making sure his hat didn’t hit my head—kissed me once more and said, “I want to feel you come inside me.”
I started to fuck him again, our bodies tightly connected. The clap of his bubble butt hitting my groin and our moans connected to create the perfect rhythm. I whispered to him that I was getting close and with his Texas accent he commanded, “Breed me, Cowboy!” His words triggered me to release, and I could feel him coming simultaneously as he quivered and moaned beneath me.
We cleaned ourselves off, making sure there was no evidence of our deeds, and stayed for a few more beers. We exchanged info before parting ways. Unfortunately, that was the last time I saw him.
Years later, I was at a gay western bar in Hell’s Kitchen having drinks with a few friends. That night I was introduced to a song called, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”. At first I laughed, but then all the memories of that cowboy came flooding back. Me having to leave NYC to experience that was the first, but not my last slut trip. Now, whenever I hear that song, I think of him and how my first cowboy was one hell of a great ride.
Author: Reinaldo Kaenyin
Photo Credit: Drummer Archives; Aaron Houston