Magnus was a tough motherfucker. He drank Everclear straight, with a little maraschino cherry. He preferred the rest of his liquor on fire. Over half his wardrobe was made from hides of animals or raw denim. He favorite band was Die Toten Hosen and he listened to Rob Zombie to calm down. He was also hairy as a bear, built like a brick shithouse, and prickly as a cactus due to casual shaving habits. For a profession, he worked as a welder. Of course, at the time I didn’t know any of this. I just knew him as the resident loner at the bar.

His hyper-masculine presence repelled even the bikers as they all thought Magnus was trying to over-compensate for insecurities in his sexuality. No one wants to offer their asses to someone with baggage included. The giggly fags and twinks avoided Magnus because of the asshole-destroying bulge in his pants.

When I got up my courage to sit next to him, I was surprised to find him making an origami frog out of receipt paper. He didn’t acknowledge my presence until he finished it and made it ‘hop’ toward me. I couldn’t help but laugh at how clever it was! I compelled it in circles with much amusement.

It was on. I ordered one shot for myself of the rubbing alcohol Magnus was drinking and held up a finger to him to suggest he wait a moment for the explanation. I paid and folded the receipt in a very simple cup. I proudly poured the shot into the paper creation and served it to him. He clapped his hands together with this ear to ear grin, even pausing to take a photo with his phone before throwing the drink back.

I bought a beer and asked my new friend for the pretzels on his far left side. He paused in thought, then asked the bartender for a piece of printer paper. She had to run to the office to get it but she got a tip out of it. Magnus turned his back to me so I couldn’t see what he was doing. After a couple minutes, he swiveled the chair around and presented my pretzels in their own little paper box container. I was completely smitten with him. He was harmless as a teddy bear!

There was no way I could compete with his advanced origami skills though so I pulled out my trump card, which was something I learned from an old lady on an airplane to Florida: the ol’ napkin rose. I even got one of the lesbians sitting next to us to spray it with her travel sized perfume. I presented it to Magnus in an over-exaggerated gesture and he played along, pretending to be overly flattered to receive it while tucking it into the pocket of his leather jacket. Out of another pocket came a pen and he wrote something on the back of the frog and made it hop over to me again. It was his phone number.

I called him the next day. Our first date was at the roller-derby. The second was a football game viewing party at his sister’s house. The third we went to an amusement park; I got a kiss that night. The fourth I suggested we pick up lunch from a BBQ joint and take it to our local botanical garden as they were having a special touring exhibit with live frogs. That was a hit too. By the evening, neither of us wanted to leave so I invited him back to my place. After one glass of wine, the simmering intimacy hit a flash point.

Clothes went flying. Shoes landed yards away. The corked bottle tumbled to the rug under the coffee table and rolled under the TV stand. I barely had time to find a condom and lube before Magnus was on me and smothering me with his full lips. I couldn’t help but reach between his legs to stroke that monster of a cock. Mine was pretty boring at four inches. I had no idea if I could take such the girthy, veiny thing but hell I was going to try for his sake.
We stumbled our way over to the sofa. There, I knelt backwards on the cushion and tugged on his arm suggesting that he fall on top of me. Magnus hesitated for a moment then pinned me to the cushions with his weight. He was wearing a musky, vanilla cologne that drove me into a frenzy. We rocked our slick members against eachother, French kissing furiously, until both of us were horny enough to ride this climax to the top. I handed him the condom left on the arm of the sofa. He accepted it warily, turning it between his fingers, contemplating it. That wasn’t normal. I furrowed my brow. What was wrong? Did I misinterpret the signs?

“Do you not want to do penetration?” I asked, my voice neutral but breathless.
“I do! I do..you’re incredibly hot but…I just…”
I noticed his massive erection was wilting, “Communicate with me Magnus,” I pleaded.
The bear of a man darted his eyes to the floor and then handed me the condom back. The frustration was maddening, working out his non-verbal cues through a fog of arousal. I set it down on the coffee table, watching to see what he’d do.
“No no …shit I’m …” he stammered, cheeks red. He picked up the condom and lube and handed them to me, his eyes pleading with me to understand what he was too shy to say.
I looked at the supplies in my hands, then back up at him. It dawned on me in a flash. He wanted to bottom. Foolish me, I had just assumed that because of his bulky body mass and machismo that he was a top! Guilt flooded in my chest when I saw the hopelessness in his eyes. Poor baby, he expected me to say no. How many times had he been rejected by men caught off guard, more interested in sleeping with a stereotype instead of the man?

Hell, this was awesome! No one ever wanted me to top cause of my cock size. I ripped open the condom in one motion and Magnus’s eyes went wide at my reaction. “Get on your back,” I demanded, shoving him backwards onto the sofa cushions. The power gave me an incredible sexual surge. I aggressively smacked and squeezed his balls, “Get that big, gorgeous erection back up for me, I want to us to cum together.” It hardened immediately under a few good strokes. The expression on his face was one I will always remember – gratitude, mixed with anticipation and bliss.

Since Magnus rarely got what he needed, his ass was virgin tight. It took me close to twenty minutes to stretch him enough to get my sticky head in his hole. God, is that I looked like under my partners? Helpless, horny, a mewling mess of sweat and skin and pre-cum? There was so much blood in my cock at this point that I felt light-headed.

I fucked Magnus in a crescendo fashion, patiently at first so he could adjust then faster and faster. His body just ate me up! I was almost regretting spending so much time on foreplay, there was no way I was going to last long and I never wanted to pull out. The orgasm arrived out of nowhere to knock us off our axises. Magnus bellowed out this guttural roar and ejaculated so hard it hit his ear. I buried my cock inside that perfect ass and filled the condom to capacity. We rode out the rest tangling tongues and exploring with our hands. When we parted, I was alarmed to see streaks of tears down his cheeks.
“…Magnus?” I whispered.
He gave me an exhausted little smile, “It’s been four years since anyone fucked me like that.”
I rocked against his prostate and made him gasp. “Tell me, Magnus, can you fold us another condom out of receipt paper?”