Confession I: Three-inches
I gotta get this out. Sitting here with the lights low, phone in my hand, heart still racing like it does every time I think about that night. If you’re reading this, you’re getting the whole filthy truth. No filter.
I’m Rourke, twenty-three, and I used to call myself straight. Used to. Until Nathan fucking ruined me in the best way possible. I need to tell someone—anyone—how a guy with a three-inch dick ended up addicted to taking ten inches up his ass and begging for more.
***
It started with the women. Every single one.
I’d get them into bed, hard as I could get, and the second the boxers came off their faces would change. That little three-inch thing twitching between my legs. Some tried to be nice. Most didn’t.
One girl laughed right in my face, said she could barely feel it even when I was all the way in. Another dumped me the next morning with a text that just said “sorry, not enough.” After the fifth or sixth time I stopped trying. Stopped dating. Just sat in my apartment feeling like a fucking joke.
I still wanted sex so bad it hurt. Wanted to feel something tight around me, wanted to make someone moan, wanted that rush. But nobody wanted what I had.
Then one night I overheard this guy outside the convenience store. Two bottoms talking. One of them was going on about his one-night stand, voice all dreamy and wrecked.
“Bro, he split me open. Had me shaking, drooling, coming untouched. I felt him in my stomach. Best dick of my life.”
My whole body went hot. My cock, my pathetic little cock, twitched in my pants. I stood there like a creep listening to every filthy detail until they walked off. I went home with my face burning and my hole clenching around nothing.
That night I pulled up gay porn for the first time. Watched some muscled top rail a smaller guy until the bottom was crying and begging. My fingers found my own ass. I pushed one in, then two, trying to hit whatever that guy had been talking about.
It felt good—weird, full, and dirty—but it wasn’t enough. I came with three fingers buried in myself and still felt empty. Frustrated as hell. Threw on a tank top and boxers, grabbed the trash, and stormed out to the dumpster.
That’s when I almost walked straight into Nathan.
Neighbor from two doors down. Tall, dark hair, stubble, arms that looked like they could hold someone down. I’d seen him around. He was checking me out. Eyes dragging down my bare legs, lingering on the outline of my dick in the thin boxers, then back up to my mouth.
I felt it. Heat under my skin. He said something polite, I mumbled something back, and we went our separate ways. But after that, every time I took the trash out or got home late, there he was. Watching. Wanting. I could feel it.
A few nights later I snapped.
I was in the hallway again, same stupid tank and boxers, half-hard from another failed porn session. Nathan was locking his door. I didn’t think. Just grabbed his wrist, yanked him toward my apartment, shoved him inside, and kicked the door shut.
Then I kissed him. Hard and messy. Teeth and tongue. He froze for half a second before he kissed back, grabbing my waist like he’d been waiting for permission.
When we broke apart I was panting. “I want to experience sex,” I told him, voice shaking. “I don’t care anymore. Straight, gay, whatever. I just need to feel it. I’ll evem bottom for you. Just please.”
Nathan’s eyes went dark. “You sure, Rourke?”
I answered by dropping my hand to the front of his jeans and palming the thick ridge there. Jesus. I fumbled the button open, yanked the zipper, and shoved my hand inside. My fingers wrapped around something that made my mouth go dry. I pulled it free.
Ten inches. Thick and veiny. Already leaking at the tip. My three-inch dick looked like a joke next to it.
I dropped to my knees like my legs gave out. Just stared. “Holy fuck…” I whispered. Then I leaned in and licked the head. It was salty and hot. I tried to take more, shoved it into my mouth too fast, teeth scraping. Nathan hissed and grabbed my hair.
“Easy. Watch the teeth. Soft lips. Suck, don’t bite.”
He guided me. Hand in my hair, slow thrusts, teaching me how to hollow my cheeks, how to use my tongue under the head, how to take him deeper without choking every second. I got the hang of it. Started bobbing, drooling down my chin, making wet filthy sounds while I sucked that fat cock like I was starving for it. My own tiny dick was rock hard and dripping in my boxers.
Nathan groaned above me. “Fuck, look at you. Straight boy on his knees choking on dick. You’re doing so good. Take it deeper. Yeah, just like that.”
I was getting into it, messy and desperate, when his thighs tensed. He pulled me off with a wet pop right before he came.
“Not yet,” he growled. He dug a condom out of his pocket, rolled it on that monster cock, then pushed me back onto the couch. “You sure about this? Once I’m in you, I’m not stopping until you’re ruined.”
I nodded so hard my neck hurt. Spread my legs wide, knees up, offering everything. Then I saw his eyes drop to my dick—three inches, hard, leaking, pathetic next to what he was packing—and the insecurity hit like a punch. I started to close my legs.
Nathan just smiled. He leaned down and kissed me, slow and deep, while his hand stroked my little cock like it was something precious.
“Don’t hide it,” he murmured against my mouth. “I’m gonna love fucking you. Gonna make this tiny thing come so many times you forget anyone ever laughed at it.”
**
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