From The Arrangement 2:
It was hard to with my mouth open but I did as he commanded,
watching him smile as my throat worked his gift down to my stomach. For
the first time in my life, I was not only a cocksucker, I was now a
cumeater as well.
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A continuation of a true story:
As I pulled his pants back up his legs (he wasn't wearing any underwear) my
chocolate conqueror released his grip on my head, playfully ruffling my
hair with his big meaty hand as he did so. "Now that was nice, Web. You've
got a sweet mouth on you and you took to my dick like a hog to a
trough. How'd you like swallowing my cum?"
Wordlessly, I answered by allowing his pants to drop back to the floor and
wrapping my left hand tight around the base of his now flaccid cock. Slowly
I moved my hand up toward the tip of his coffee-colored serpent like a trying to squeeze the last dollop of toothpaste out of the tube, forcing
his sperm onto my extended tongue. After a final lick to capture the single
glistening drop hanging from his slit, I stood up and, mouth open,
swallowed his offering as though it were nectar from the gods.
A peal of laughter as loud and sudden as a burst of thunder escaped from
his lips. "Boy, you are sumptin else. We're damn sure going to have some
good times. Now get the stuff out of those boxes while I go and talk to
your friend."
The coming of evening lagged as slowly as a child being sent to the
principal's office. Once we had returned to his grandmother's apartment, my
friend and I were only alone for a few minutes, never long enough for any
real conversation about what had happened in the basement. We had to
content ourselves with exchanging glances over the Checkers board.
As the time went by, I began to question my actions in the basement. Regret
warred with satisfaction. Why didn't I just get up and run? Why did I let
him make me suck him? Why did I swallow? And why the hell did in milk him
like I did? Being afraid would account for most of what I did in the
basement but not that last. He was done. He'd come. All I had to do was
give him a yes or no answer. But I hadn't at least not verbally. So why did
I do it, what did it mean? These questions kept running through my head
like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.
Finally his grandmother decided to call it a night and, with an admonition
not to stay up too late watching the late night horror on a local channel, went off to her bedroom shutting the door tight behind her. Even
after what had happened in the basement we knew we didn't have to worry
about his grandmother catching us. She took a sleeping pill every night
that knocked her out until morning.
"Hey Web, I'm sorry man," my friend said as we pulled the sofa bed out from
the living room couch, his voice pitched soft in apology. "I never thought
we'd get caught. I've been down in that basement dozens of times to get
stuff and no one every comes down there. I meant what I said when we
started that no one else would know about us. I sure wasn't going to tell
anyone."
I didn't reply, unsure of what I should say.
"I never thought Grambs would catch us down there and even after he
did I never ever thought he'd have you suck him off. Christ, he's and he's got a couple of kids than we are. At least he told me you
blew him Did you? Did he make you suck him off?"
Looking directly into my friend's eyes and watching to see how he'd react,
I gave a brief shallow nod of my head. His face began to exhibit a feral
excitement like an stalking its prey.
"Yeah, he told me you did," his voice still softly pitched but coarsening
in tone. "`Your Web was on my fat johnson like a bear stealing honey
from a bee tree.' That's what he said. `Kid was like a starving at a
banquet. Couldn't get enough, left me as wrung out and limp as an linen
dish rag.' Said you liked it too. Was he right Web? Did you like his black cock?"
Again I nodded my acquiescence and, with the downward stroke of my head, I
noticed the fly in his blue cotton pajamas had begun to bulge outward, his
boner uncoiling like a branch that had been bent into a bow and now
was being slowly released.
"God, I wish I'd been there to see it. You on your knees, his dick deep in
your mouth. You look so hot with my cock in your mouth. I just love
watching you work when you give me head, how your lips stretch, the way
your cheeks puff in and out. Well, maybe next time. And next time may be
tomorrow."
I managed to force a croaked "Why, why tomorrow" past my dry throat and
mouth.
"The wants you to suck him off again you know," he told me, each
sentence he spoke stimulating both of us. "Asked me to bring you over to
his apartment tomorrow before we leave. His is at her sister's until
Wednesday. Should I do that Web? Should I walk you over to Grambs' so you
can have one more taste of his pecker before we leave? And if I do will you
let me watch? Maybe you can take even turns and suck us both off. I think
we'd all like that."
As he continued to speak, my eyes were again drawn to the fly of his
pajamas. His rock hard dick had erupted from his fly and jutting straight
out its head gleaming with shiny precum. I felt my dry mouth start to
moisten with saliva.
I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my hands and knees on the bed and
scuttled across its chenille cover like a crab. Reaching out with my hands,
I pulled him closer, capturing his prick in my mouth, locking my lips just
behind the ridge of his helmet, my tongue swabbing him clean of precum. He
started to rock back and forth driving his cock in and out as I lightly
scraped his skin with my teeth. Then quite unexpectedly, so unexpectedly I
started to toter, he pulled himself out of my mouth, his dick making a
soft, wet "pop" sound as it left. As he kept me from falling forward, I
could see the marks my rasping incisors had left on his skin.
"Not so fast Web, I want you to see something. I'm going to the bathroom
for a minute and while I'm gone I want you to turn off all the lights
except for the TV. Then take off your pajamas and get under the
covers. I'll be back in a minute."
I took advantage of his absence to run to the kitchen and drink a big glass
of water. As I refilled the glass from the pitcher his grandmother kept in
the refrigerator, I could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom and
talking to himself. "Now where'd she put it. I know it's around here
somewhere.' I could hear drawers opening and closing. "Ah, there it is."
I had just managed to finish turning off the lights (I had been too busy to
give a lot of thought to what he had been looking for) when my friend came
around the corner holding something shiny behind his back. "Web, aren't you
supposed to be under those covers right now. Ah hell, it doesn't matter,"
he told me as he moved up to the edge of the bed. "Come on over here and
undo my bottoms. Then get my dick in your mouth just like you had it
before."
Nervously I complied wondering what my friend was up to and just what he
had behind his back. It didn't take long to find out. I was in mid-stroke
when his left hand whipped around from behind his back to reveal _ a hand
mirror. He had brought an oval hand mirror out of the bathroom.
"OK Web, stop right there and take a look at yourself in the mirror. I
wanted you to see just how sexy you look when you're cock. Told you
it was better than anything in Playboy."
I shifted my eyes to look at the mirror (if I moved my head I would have
lost contact with his dick) and what I saw made my cock add another inch of
diameter to the wet circle my dripping precum was causing on the cover
below.
Bathed in the gentle glow of the television was the freshly scrubbed face
of a male teenager with short brown hair and a stubby button nose. A
few freckles dotted his cheeks, cheeks which had been rounded inward by the
force of his until they resembled the inside surface of a pink
rubber ball cut open.
The mirror revealed a gaping mouth which spoke of unrestrained passions and
wantonness, the juvenile lips thrust tautly forward along a pillar of stiff
smooth flesh, a small line of wetness escaping from the tiny pocket in the
mouth's corner where the connection between the two bodies failed. There
could be no question this was a mouth made to give pleasure to other males,
to slobber over countless men, vacuuming their throbbing poles deep into
its connecting throat, with a tongue intend to roll their manly essences
around the mouth like a fine brandy.
Above all the mirror exposed the visage of an individual whose eyes
expressed a sense of contentment and fulfillment as he nursed on the prick
in his mouth, someone unburdened by the knowledge he liked to suck cocks,
unafraid to give full range to his desires.
To this day I wish I had a copy of the reflection of the I saw in
that mirror.
Almost as quickly as it had appeared, the mirror vanished, set on floor by
the side of the sofa bed. My friend's strong hands pushed me flat on my
back, temporarily breaking our carnal connection. As I rose to give him
room to lay down he pushed me flat on my back again, this time positioning
himself over my prostrate body with his knees locked tightly around my rib
cage.
As he propped my head up with a pillow, I gave myself over to his desires
and mine. Who was I to deny what the looking glass had finally made plain.
He moved his way forward until his ass was firm against my chest, his prick
was pounding against my lips like a medieval battering ram. I surrendered,
opening wide while my tongue played the role of the lowered drawbridge,
allowing him unhindered passage into my oral courtyard.
He took full advantage of my capitulation, thrusting forward until he
reached the back of my throat and then back until just the tip sat on the
edge of my front teeth, sawing in and out while my lips quivered along the
sides of his dick and his ballsack scraped up and down on my chest. In
this new and unfamiliar position the salvia began to pool in the back of my
throat threatening to choke me when the level rose too high. My need to
swallow to avoid gagging just added another new thrill for my friend as my
lips, mouth and sometimes even my throat would contract around his dick,
squeezing it tight in a hot, moist, fleshy vice.
The end came quickly for both of us, the events of the day and the earlier
release we had been denied had aroused us to new heights of excitement,
added urgency to our movements, fervor to our coupling. My friend's legs
began to shake against my ribs, a sure sign he was growing close to orgasm
and I increased the intensity of my sucking.
We had not spoken since he pushed me to the bed, words seemed unnecessary
to the task at hand. But, as his climax neared, my friend managed to gasp
out one question between breaths: "You know what to do?"
I answered him first with my eyes, "Yes, I know what to do," and then with
my actions. With a heavy grunt my friend bent over, his hands coming to
rest on the top of the sofa, his dick sliding backwards to the outer edge
of my mouth. Once, twice, three times he spurted his hot cream across the
waiting surface of my tongue, thoroughly coating it with a white effusion
of sperm before he withdrew.
Sitting up slowly, I stuck my semi-curled tongue out at him like a little
child mad at the world. But the real reason was to prove to him his
offering had been accepted. I watched him watch me, his eyes going first
at the puddle of come on top of my tongue and then to my throat as its
muscles convulsed when I swallowed.
"Thank you," I told my friend and then asked "When you're ready to go
again, can I have some more?"
If you've liked this third installment of a true please let
me know at webdazell@yahoo.com
Note to all readers. The actual events portrayed in these took
place in the mid-sixties. Most of the practices outlined here are now too
dangerous to indulge in in this the era of AIDS. Please practice safe sex
only.
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