It All Started With A Handshake and A High Five
Written By: “CountryBoyinCA”
My entry to the “lifestyle” was through perhaps one of the most unlikely avenues one could fathom. Ten years ago I set out to begin my first year of college by leaving my small rural hometown in a state with more cows than humans. My life up until that point had centered around three things: school, church, and family. You don’t need to spend much time in rural America to realize that church is the beating heart of rural life—it is where connections are formed, relationships built, and is the place that I was formed, discipled, and nurtured. As a natural achiever I wanted to excel in each arena I was placed. I put family first, did well in school, and did even better in church—leading youth retreats, teaching Sunday School, and immersing myself in the life of my community. Like any teenage boy, I felt the strong primal urges of manhood—but in my tiny corner of the world there was practically nowhere to express or release such urges. And as much as I might have wanted to if given the chance, I was an overachiever to my core, and wasn’t about to do anything I wasn’t supposed to do.
Moving out to attend college in a much larger city was the beginning of the rest of my life. Don’t get me wrong—I am a country boy to my core. There is something healing about the quiet rhythms of life detached from the chaos of humanity. There is something deeply necessary about life in a place connected to land, nature, and where there is still the possibility of experiencing a darkness that reveals the vastness of the universe visible in an ordinary night sky. I am grateful to have been formed in such a place. I am also grateful that I took that foundation with me to the city to start the next chapter.
Upon arriving to campus I was confronted with the dizzying reality of a university that had more people in the the Student Union building at any one time than ten of my high schools combined. For the first time I was untethered from my family, church, and old friends. Once I realized my roommate was totally uninterested in hanging out with me and preferred instead to only socialize with his old high school buddies I decided it was time for me to make my own way forward. So, I went where I was comfortable: to a campus evangelical Christian group. The first meeting was on a fall evening in the Student Union building—pizza and soda lined several folding tables and freshman roamed about awkwardly introducing themselves to upperclassmen.
I was filling my cup when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to find a big guy with scruffy blonde hair holding his hand out to me waiting for me to shake. I can tell he’s an upperclassman so I give him the sort of firm, solid handshake we give back home. He tells me his name is Gavin, he’s a junior, football player, and vice president of the Christian group. He gave me his number to put in my phone and encouraged me to reach out if I needed anything. What I later learned is that Gavin came from a town much like mine. He was raised in the same way with the same values. And he knew I’d need some help adjusting—just as he did two years before.
Over the next mont or so Gavin would text me to check in. He’d meet me for a meal in the Student Union, invite me to meetings of the campus Christian group, and even invited me to a Bible study with some of his other teammates. Any excuse to get to hang out with guys from our nationally renowned football team was good enough for me!
One night when we were hanging out the inevitable talk of women came up as it does with all college boys. I was surprised that a fellow Christian was so openly talking about women. For me, this was a refreshing departure form my hometown culture. Here was a guy raised the same way as me who was comfortably and openly talking to his teammates about sex—a skill that I had yet to develop comfort with.
Over time I learned that we shared similar preferences in women—and I was glad to see someone from a similar faith background embrace the urges that made us men. Though I was curious how he was able to lead a Bible study in the evangelical student group one minute and then drink beer with his teammates while extolling the wonders of pussy eating the next. I decided to ask him how exactly that works. What he told me was rather life changing and has been one way that I’ve been able to remain true to my values while living authentically in the lifestyle. He said that sex is what we as men are meant to do and that the world was deeply in need of some real men in touch with their masculine energy. He then looked at me mischievously and said, “Don’t the scriptures teach us to be fruitful and multiply?” To which I sheepishly said, “well, yes, Genesis 1:28.” Looking up at me he then asked, “Don’t you think practice makes perfect?”
Fast forward two months and Gavin texts me saying he needs me to do him a huge favor. I texted back rather curiously, “Ok…What?” He told me he’d only tell me over a beer at his place. I went over that night without a clue what he was about to propose. Sitting down on his futon, shoulder to shoulder he told me he was seeing a smoking hot girl who wanted to be tag teamed. I immediately couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was still hard for me to wrap my head around my Bible study leader inviting me to embrace my nature as a sexual man. I knew he was about to ask me to be his tag-team buddy. Sensing my shock, he looked at me with the guidance of a mentor and said, “Remember what I said, practice makes perfect…” Gavin knew that I needed this. He knew that I needed to break out of the script of who I thought I was supposed to be and to actually enjoy the pangs of sexual desire. Gavin pulled out his phone to show me a few pics and I knew instantly it was a go. The woman we were to tag team was a sexy Filipina girl named Veronica, a junior with large billowy breasts and very large, dark, delicious nipples.
The following Friday we were set to hang out, all three of us. Gavin said we’d chill together and see where it goes. I arrive at his place to find him and Veronica drinking and watching a movie. Having no idea how this would go but I decide to just go along for the ride. After about 30 minutes of the three of us hanging out, her sitting in between us on the couch—she and Gavin begin to make out. Suddenly she turns to me and starts kissing me too. She stops and takes off her bra and Gavin and I each dive for her breasts like deep sea divers looking for lost treasure. Each of us have a nipple in our mouths and by this point any apprehension I had imaged evaporated. Here I am sucking on the tits of a sexy coed with a buddy who was ushering me into the ways of true manhood. Suddenly Gavin gets up and kneels on the floor in front of Veronica while she and I are still sitting the futon—me still enjoying her breasts. As Gavin kneels in front of her he pulls her panties down with graceful elegance. He takes one of her ankles in each of his hands and gently spreads her legs to reveal a glistening mound of feminine beauty waiting to be explored. I notice him kissing his way down her legs and around the tissue surrounding her pussy and as he does this, I notice goosebumps appear on her arms and legs in anticipation of the joy of his final destination. As I switch back and forth between kissing Veronica’s neck and tits I notice Gavin has made his way to her pussy and now he’s dining on her with the same sort of vigor he brought to the football field. His tongue mopping up her feminine juices as if that was the elixir that contained nourishment for his masculine prowess. I had never seen someone so unabashedly enjoy their sexuality before. I had never seen someone so confidently embrace the gift of pleasure. This, I realize, is how a real man is supposed to enjoy a pussy.
By now Gavin and I are down to our boxers and Victoria has her hand rubbing on my hardness and tracing the outline of my manhood with her fingers. The only thing separating her hand from my cock is a thin layer of polyester cotton blend. She invites herself in and grabs my penis and her thumb grazes my head where she feels my slippery pre-ejaculate oozing out. Gavin has finished his meal of pussy and now has Veronica on her hands and knees on the floor in front of me, him kneeling behind her. Now I am the only one left on the futon. Gavin reaches down and reveals his erection—with his cock head practically pointing at the ceiling. Suddenly I notice he pushes into Veronica and disappears inside her darkness. She takes my cock in her hand and feeds it into her mouth where she adeptly uses her tongue to trace circles around my head, engulfs my shaft and even gives my balls a part to play in this sexual symphony.
Meanwhile Gavin is thrusting and his rather low hanging balls are rhythmically slapping Veronica’s clit in such a way that she is awash with waves of intense pleasure manifesting in piercing vocalizations. I later would learn that Gavin’s low hangers were his calling card, and this phenomenon was something that made him quite popular among the women of campus.
After awhile Gavin looks at me and says, “Your turn.” “This is it,” I think. This is my chance. We switch positions. His cock appears to shine, wet with her juices as he takes a seat on the futon and I move to where he was. I’m harder than I’ve ever experienced, my glans is swollen with the blood of passionate desire and lust. I position myself in front of Veronica ready to experience her. I use my head to tease her beautiful folds and lips before I plunge into her warmth. She’s warm, so wet, and so tight. My penis has never known pleasure quite like this. I can tell that mother nature has something to do with this because it is so easy, so natural, my body doing practically everything for me. I see Veronica enjoying Gavin’s cock as he sits back and enjoys the pleasure of her talented mouth licking up her residual juices. As my thrusts get more vigorous and my skin more flushed, Veronica exclaims she wants to feel my release inside her. She knew it would be powerful. She knew I was new to this way of life. She knew that 19 years of tension was about to flow out through my penis. I make eye contact with Gavin who gives me a look that tells me, “It’s ok. Do it.”
I feel my heart pound and blood pressure rise. I feel the tension swell up on the ground floor of my testicles. I knew I was where I needed to be and in that moment I was so grateful to be a man. I was grateful to Gavin for being a mentor to me—for helping me understand that being a man of faith and a sexual man were not mutually exclusive. I was grateful for him teaching me that the lessons we learned in our faith group were the same lessons that we ought to employ in our sexual lives as well: respect, patience, honor, and generosity.
At that moment I hit the peak of my orgasm, flooding Veronica’s womb with my ejaculate. I feel her muscular vaginal canal coax every rope out of me. As this was happening Gavin lifts his arm in the air and high-fives me like we had just won a home game. The VP of the campus evangelical group who had just months before extended to me what we Christians call “the right hand of fellowship” with his firm handshake, just high-fived me while I was balls deep in the sexiest girl I had ever seen. This is brotherhood.
Today, Gavin is married with children and is not a part of the lifestyle but he is proud to have introduced me to a way of life that allows me to be the sexual man I am, while keeping grounded in the values that formed me. I have not had to trade one for the other. My evangelical values are what help me navigate the lifestyle with respect, grace, and the desire to add to people’s lives in relationships. Sometimes Gavin will still remind me again, “practice makes perfect, brother.” To which I say, “You can never practice too much…”