A long time ago, the strangest thing happened to me, I still think about it fairly often over the years. Lately it's been back on my mind a lot, for whatever reason.

I had been swimming with my friend Nicole, and afterward we decided to go back to her place and hang out. We got there and there was nobody else home, so we grabbed some snacks and soda and headed to her room.

We had been casual acquaintances for a couple years, but we became better friends the beginning of that summer. I hung out with her brother sometimes, mostly in the computer room, but I had never been in her room before.

I remember she had bunk beds for some reason, the weird kind with a big bed on the bottom and a slightly smaller bed on top. I have no idea why, either. She had siblings, yeah, a brother and a sister, but they had their own rooms, and her sister was a lot older, by maybe seven years or so. Older to the point where I was surprised she was still living at home. I could only guess that maybe they were a holdover from some time she shared a room with her older sister or something, I never asked and never found out.
I was also extremely jealous because she had a cable box, in her room! Even if my mother could have afforded such a thing, she never would have let me have one, I was stuck with cable coming straight from the wall, like a chump!

She said she had to wash her hair and left to go take a shower. I was sitting on her bed, flicking through channels, watching Nickelodeon or MTV or whatever. I won't lie, I was thinking about her in that shower. We were friends, and I had no delusions of us being more, but she was quite a looker.

Eventually she returned to the room, wearing only a towel... on top of her head! Otherwise, completely stark naked! I tried not to be noticeably surprised, I tried not to have her catch me gawking like a geek, whatever, but she didn’t pay me much notice. I expected her to, like, shriek and back out, like she forgot I was there or something, but she just came in and closed the door.

It wasn’t anything sexual, either. She didn’t come on to me or anything, she just went about her way, casually getting things out of her dresser, looking in the mirror, moving stuff around on her vanity, holding a casual conversation about what was on TV or whatever, I could barely think because I was so distracted. She was acting perfectly normal other than the fact that she was naked.

I couldn’t help but sneak peeks, and longer looks whenever I got the chance, not like I had to worry because it wasn’t like she was trying to catch me or anything, but I was still worried she might. I had no idea what was going on, still don’t to this day. Her family weren’t nudists or anything, as far as I had ever known. I had been to her house before, nothing like this ever happened.

I fully believe she wasn’t coming on to me or trying to entice me in any way, either. I've told a very few people this story before, and they all seem to think I missed my cue, like she was giving me a signal, but I sincerely doubt it. She never gave me any kind of look or approached me in a proactive way or anything, there wasn’t anything sensual or cloying about her manner. She acted the same way she acted while clothed. I’m pretty sure if I had tried to hit on her or touch her or anything, she would have thrown me out. I didn’t so much as comment about her nudity, for fear of ruining anything.

Instead I just accepted the strange luck I had been given and let my eyes absorb everything. For a good while she stood in front of her big vanity mirror with her back to me, giving me a good look at both sides. The mirror wasn’t full length but it was big enough to let me see everything. I remember her wispy blonde pubes, thin enough to let me see the lips of her vulva beneath. I remember her holding the towel with her left hand while bending over to retrieve something from a low drawer. The dimples on the sides of her butt.

Eventually she took the towel off her head and dabbed at her legs and backside a bit with it, before brushing some kind of products through her long blonde hair, still nude the entire time.

I tried not to be visibly excited but I was exploding, in my mind. She shook her still damp hair and retrieved some more things from her bureau.

Eventually she put on a white, lacy bra, not see through but frilly, and then some shiny, slightly blue panties, I watched her pulling them up the entire time, wishing I were them. She finished getting dressed and opened her door, then came and sat beside me on the bed, her hair was still slightly damp.

We sat there watching TV and chatting, eventually her father came home and greeted us, soon enough the rest of her family was there, as well. I was still running her previous nudity through my mind the entire time.

After who knows how long, it got dark, I left and went home. She and I were still cool that entire summer, still hung out at the pool a lot, but there were no more nude house visits after that. I hung with her at her house a few times after that, sometimes we were alone again, but they were all normal, fully clothed hangs. Much to my chagrin.

After that summer we were still cordial, but she was already moving on to different friends, mostly girls, generally stuck up snobs. We would see each other in the hallways and be cool, but we weren’t really hanging out anymore. I still hung out with her brother sometimes, but she would only barely acknowledge me when I was over.

We fell even further out of touch after that, maybe an acknowledgment in the hallway, head nod or a smile, but no more friendly stop and chats.

After a while I realized I stopped seeing her or her brother at all and found out months after the fact that they had moved to another city, entirely! Didn't even think to tell me about it, the last time I had hung out with her brother, nobody had mentioned anything about moving.

I never found out what was going on that day, never found out if hanging out naked was something she had done with other people or something, like it was just normal for her, never found out if she thought I was gay and that’s why she was fine being naked around me, never found out if I was actually totally wrong about it being innocent casual nudity, nothing.

Even to this day I would love to ask, if I somehow got back in touch with her. If she would even remember at all, or if she would remember but pretend not to, or if she would think/pretend I was making it up and being some kind of freak for even bringing it up. Like I was trying to get with her or something. Maybe be freaked out that it's been on my mind this many years later. I just want to put an end to my nagging curiosity, is all.

The whole thing was very weird, and she’s almost become a bigger part of my memories, than she ever was a part of my life, which is sad when I think about it, especially with how important it all felt back then, friends seemed like the biggest thing in your life, people you would know forever, and then one day you just, never see them again. It's an odd feeling when a memory seems more real to you than the person the memory is about, has a bigger impact on your life than the person it's about.

So my sister Laura came over this weekend for the holiday which was so nice being able to watch her imagining holding her. At the end of the night as she was leaving she gave me a hug, not any ordinary hug, a hug with feeling and love. My sister held me tight and with no warning,kissed me. I was shocked but i let my feelings for her continue as we swapped spit for a little and stared into each other's eyes.  This may be the start of a great relationship. 

The stale air of the motel room was thick with the acrid promise of something I'd spent a lifetime denying, but it was the rich, leathery scent of a massive cigar that truly coated the back of my throat when the door creaked open. They were there, exactly as promised, but the reality was so much more potent. He was a bear of a man, a hairy redneck in his late 50s with a gut that strained the buttons of his flannel and a thick, graying beard. A monstrous 80-gauge cigar, a dark brown torpedo of tobacco, was clamped in his teeth, the end glowing with a deep, menacing cherry. My cock, traitorous to my entire history, throbbed with immediate, desperate need as I watched him inhale deeply from his cigar. Smoke billowed from his nostrils as he stared me down like prey.But her… she was magnificent. A goddess of abundance with wide, ample hips that promised a soft place to land. She was the embodiment of a fertility that my body, against all my programming, craved with a primal hunger.He grunted, a sound of pure, primal ownership, and she smiled, a soft knowing look. He didn't waste time, maneuvering her onto the bed all the while cigar clenched tightly in his jaw. Her body a landscape of life-affirming softness that mesmerized me to the point where I couldn't look away. He positioned himself between her thick, creamy thighs, and I had my first real look at his cock. It was a masterpiece of masculinity, a big, uncut beast, thick and heavy and already leaking precum like a faucet. First he played with her cunt. At first there was silence,  followed by her deep moans then all I could hear was the gradual sound of wetness as she began to squirt harder and harder against his hand. Grinning and smoking deeply, he locked eyes with me as he changed positions and slowly into her. He fucked her with a slow, powerful rhythm, his hairy ass flexing, his heavy balls slapping against her flesh with each deep thrust, all the while puffing on his cigar, the smoke curling around his head like a halo of pure, unadulterated power. The smoke was so thick and the sight so wonderful I must have been tripping. It was like a halo of smoky light began lighting up the couple, illuminating my hidden desires and awakening something deep within me.After a few minutes, he pulled out, his magnificent cock gleaming with her slickness. He looked at me, his eyes dark and commanding. "Get over here and clean me off, boy," he growled, his voice a low, raspy rumble from the cigar smoke. I scrambled onto the bed, my mouth watering. I wrapped my lips around his shaft, and the taste of her hit me like my favorite candy. It was a musky, sweet, slightly salty flavor that was nothing like a man. It was the taste of life, of earth, of pure, unadulterated femininity. I sucked him clean, my tongue delving under his foreskin, chasing every last drop of her nectar. I wasn't just sucking his cock; I was worshipping the tool that had just been inside my new temple.Then, he did something that sent a jolt of pure electricity through me. He pulled his cock from my mouth with a wet pop, got down on the bed beside me, and looked me dead in the eye. "Alright, son," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my very bones. "Time for your real lesson. But first, we gotta fix that broken brain of yours." He took a long, slow draw from his cigar, the cherry glowing brightly as he inhaled. He then blew a thick, plume of smoke directly into my face. "Breathe that in," he commanded. "That's the smell of a real man. That's the smell of freedom. You're gonna learn to love it." He then took the cigar from his mouth and pressed it to my lips. "Suck on it. Don't inhale, not yet. Just get the taste of it. Let it fill your mouth." I did as I was told, the rich, earthy flavor of the tobacco coating my tongue, mixing with the lingering taste of her pussy. It was a heady, intoxicating combination."Good," he grunted, a look of savage satisfaction on his face. "Now, let's get down to business. You're gonna learn to worship this pussy like it's the only thing that matters, because it is."He turned his attention to her, her legs still spread wide. "Look at that," he breathed. "That's a masterpiece. That's what real men fight for. You don't just eat it. You worship it. You lose yourself in it. You become part of it."He leaned in and demonstrated. He flattened his wide, rough tongue and took a long, slow, deliberate lick from her entrance all the way up to her clit. She shuddered and moaned. "See that?" he said, his voice muffled by her flesh. "You taste everything. You breathe her in. This is your new religion. This cunt is your god. I am your prophet. And you," he said, tapping my chest, "are my disciple.""Now you try," he commanded. "Do exactly what I do. Don't think, just feel. Feel the truth of the cigar in your mouth. Feel the rightness of this moment. And take a hit of this cigar. Inhale it this time. Let it fill your lungs. Let it make you a man."I leaned in, my heart pounding. I took a long, deep drag from the cigar, the smoke filling my lungs, a warm, spicy rush that made my head spin. I buried my face in her soft belly first, savoring the feel of it. Then I moved down and followed his instruction. I licked her, from bottom to top, just like he showed me. Her taste flooded my senses, richer and more complex than I could have ever imagined. It was intoxicating. It was right."Good boy," he grunted, right beside my ear. "Now get in there. Get your nose in it. Smell what a real woman smells like. This is the smell of victory. The smell of life. Don't be shy. This is what you were meant to do. And keep smoking that cigar. Let the smoke mix with her scent. Let it become a part of you."That was all the encouragement I needed. Something inside me snapped, not just my sexuality, but my entire worldview. The years of denial, the shame, the self-imposed therapy, the liberal conditioning—it all evaporated, replaced by a white-hot, all-consuming obsession. I wasn't a gay man anymore. I was a creature of pure appetite, a convert to a new, depraved faith, and this beautiful cunt was my entire world.I plunged in, my beard scratching against the soft skin of her inner thighs, my nose buried deep in her. I was drowning in her, and I never wanted to come up for air. He was right there, coaching me, his voice a depraved chant in my ear. "That's it, lose control. Get messy. Show her how much you fucking love it. Show her how much you need it. Show her how much you live for it." His words were a litany of perversion, a prayer to a dark god, and they were setting my soul on fire. I took another long drag from the cigar, the smoke mixing with the scent of her cunt, creating a heady aphrodisiac that fueled my depraved hunger."See that little spot right there?" he pointed out, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur. "That's her sweet spot. Flick it with your tongue. Make her scream. Suck her clit. Pretend it's a little cock. Suck it hard. Show her you're a man now. Show her you're a pussy man."I did as he said, my tongue lashing out, flicking and sucking, my beard getting soaked in her juices. She was moaning and writhing, her body responding to my every touch, my every lick. I was in a trance, a state of pure, unadulterated bliss. The cigar smoke mixed with her scent, creating a heady, intoxicating aroma that was driving me wild. I was a man possessed, a man reborn, a man who had found his true purpose."Look at you," he growled with pride in his voice. "You're a natural. A fucking pussy-eating pro. You're not a faggot anymore, are you, boy? You're a pussy man. You're a real man."I couldn't answer. My mouth was full. But he was right. I felt a change happening inside me, a fundamental rewiring of my soul as I drank her essence. When she came, it was with a violent shudder and a gush of hot, sweet liquid that filled my mouth. I drank it all, my body trembling with the sheer, depraved joy of it, the cigar clamped between my teeth like a trophy.When I finally raised my head, my face was a slick, shining mess. I looked at him, my eyes wild with a new kind of hunger. He just laughed, a deep, satisfied rumble. "Told you you'd love it," he said, adjusting the cigar in my mouth. "Welcome to the right team"