Hostels are exciting when traveling. You never know who you could meet (good and bad) or what could happen (also good and bad). One of my more memorable experiences was tagging along a pretty solid group of friends. They’re all so kind and treat me like family. I still keep in touch with them.
I’m attracted to one guy in particular because he’s a ray of sunshine – a golden child that beams with happiness. But he has a poetic sentimental side. All day he showers me with sweet nothings and tokens of his affection. He gives me his beanie, random shit we get from street vendors like soap samples. It’s cute in a way, considering we didn’t have much to offer on our backs.
I call this guy Jesus the whole time and it catches on quick with the rest of the group. It’s not his real name, but his real name does *refer* to Jesus, his friends call him Santa (which happens to be a reference too) because of his big belly/dad bod and loud gutteral laugh. His long beard and hair is the cherry on top and makes it all so fucking funny. I was high for a lot of this, and religion is a mind fuck ok?
The last night we go from Irish bar to underground hip hop club to weed cafe. It’s a good time and we end up back at the hostel to sneak up on the roof through a window. It’s the easiest way to see a place from a new perspective – highly recommend. We all sit there feeling the crisp air and listening to the sounds of the city echo beneath us. It feels so alive, and so do i. Footsteps and bikes roll against stone, different voices blend together into a lofty hum, with an occasional motor coughs by.
Everyone eventually heads back but it’s just him and I now. His hands are in his pockets and I can tell he doesn’t want to assume anything. So I do what I do best and drop on my knees to put his dick in my mouth. He’s shocked and completely soft but I get him hard quickly. I use both my hands to stroke his nice member and lick the tip a bunch like an ice cream cone, looking up at him. Soon he’s got his hands in my hair and sighing my name. I’m giving Jesus a blowjob on a roof for anyone to see.
We make our way back to the room and I slip into his bottom bunk. Luckily there was no one directly above us. There’s six other people in the room so we have to be quiet, but it’s also 3 AM so I pray that everyone’s sound asleep already. We lay next to each other and make out. He’s passionate, real, and the way he touches me is electrifying. He pulls the cover over us and goes down on me. I start to struggle to keep my moans contained. He’s eating me like I’m his last supper.
From here he gets on top of me to push inside of me. My desire for him is so intense that I press him into me harder, like I could get our two bodies to merge into one. We’re still under the covers and he holds my face so he can look into my eyes while whispering my name over and over, telling me how I feel so good. I feel like my heart is splayed open and he’s burying himself inside.
I want him deeper still. I take his hair in my fists and whisper, please fuck me in my ass. I need it, my whole body is quivering for it. He gets up to stand by the bed and throws the covers off my body. I get on all fours in front of him. I’m so wet that my ass is already lubed up and he enters me slowly so I can feel every inch. I’m seeing stars and I finally let out a small groan into the bed and grip the sheets to steady myself.
He can’t say anything to me in this position but I can tell he’s turned on by the way he’s gripping my ass tightly and digging his nails into me. I have to bite the sheets to stop myself from yelping out in pain and pleasure. He also didn’t hold back at all and cums pretty fast, and we are frozen in place for a while still panting and feeling each other’s shakes and pulses.
We pass out quickly in each other’s arms but I wake up crying to the most horrible dream I’ve ever had still to this day. I think the long night of partying messed up my brain. He just holds me and wipes my tears away until we are kissing. We fuck quietly again under the covers, slowly but still with dripping intensity. Before we can fall back sleep, the church bells start to ring for what feels like 20 minutes outside and makes everyone stir. Our night is over.
I’m in awe that I experienced such a powerful connection. I walk the group to the train station when they have to leave. He pulls me to the side and asks me to teach him how to draw, and I do as we sketch the strangers that pass by. We both cry when he says goodbye and kisses me the last time. If I ever see him again, I’d be curious to see if our chemistry is still strong. That would be my salvation, to know that romance and desire can transcend time and place.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/tjtp7x/giving_jesus_a_blowjob_on_the_roof_fm