The first day of your new life-1

This story is fictional; any similarity to locations, characters, or situations is purely coincidental. This story was published by this author on the Todorelatos platform under another pseudonym. I hope you like this series.

Hi, my name is Carlos, 22 years old. I consider myself pretty good-looking, with a nice-guy face, hair shaved at the sides and a bit longer on top. If you ask about my body, I’ll tell you I’m somewhat toned, with hardly any body hair; the little I have, I remove every so often. My pride is my cock: 18 thick centimeters, uncircumcised and finished off with a pair of nice big balls, which has allowed me to have sex with guys as much as I wanted and more, always being the top and very dominant, until now…

It all started one summer night. I had just finished my university exams and my friends had insisted on going out partying, especially my best friend, Sebas, a decent and nice guy but, once he falls in love with a girl, he becomes unbearably annoying, and this, unfortunately for me, was no exception. He had set his sights on a girl from a private university here in Madrid; they had flirted on Instagram and she had told him to meet at a party in an apartment in the Salamanca district, one of Madrid’s top areas, the kind that guys like us—neighborhood guys, public university, and not too much money—wouldn’t be allowed into even if we paid.

And that’s how we arrived at the party, in a huge apartment: two floors, high ceilings, moldings, everything spotless, elegant. The apartment I lived in with several mates could easily fit inside that house’s living room. I hadn’t bothered to dress up much: a loose T-shirt, slightly low baggy pants, showing the brand of my underwear.

I was dancing calmly when I saw him, in a corner, alone: a slim blond guy, classic helmet hair, a small patch of hair on his chest, a blue shirt with the first three buttons undone, a little medal of one of Spain’s virgins, and chinos that, why lie, looked incredible on him. He wasn’t my type, but maybe because I’d had a few too many drinks, I went over.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” I asked him, more out of politeness than real interest, because all I wanted was to get him into a bed and fuck him. He looked me up and down, as if assessing whether it was even worth talking to me, but he did. We spent a while talking. He told me his name was Bosco, that he studied Law (a classic) at a private university. I told him I studied Fine Arts, but at a public one, that I was 22 years old, like him, and that, just like me, a friend had dragged him into going to that party.

After quite a while, I decided to move away from this guy. He showed no signs of responding to the flirting, so I resorted to the classic excuse: going to the bathroom. To my surprise, he said he’d come with me.

We went into the bathroom together. He locked the door and, without saying a word, threw himself at m...