Champville High

So, like, I'm Daniel Moore, but everyone just calls me Danny. I'm a senior on the Champville High football team. 5'9", maybe around 160 lbs, white, brown hair that's usually cut pretty short. I got a seven-inch dick, cut. My best bro is Kyle, and we've got the same kind of build, except he's blond and a little hairier. He's got a fatter dick, too. How I started jerking him off would be a cute little story too, like, the end of me fucking pining over him in the locker room for two years as we started filling out, but it's not really important. All you really need to know is we fuck around a lot, mostly me jerking him off. I've blown him a few times, but he's not really into bjs; he wants to fuck me but I'm not sure if I'm really ready for that, you know?

Anyway, Verne. He's this absolute fucking hulk of a dude, easily like 240 lbs, six and a half feet, and he's got this keg-like build, not so much all defined abs or whatever, but his stomach is this solid wall of muscle, even around the sides. He's black, and he keeps his hair cut real short, just a little curly fuzz, and he's got these scars across his forehead from someone shattering his helmet that cut through one eyebrow. We all joked that he didn't have to get a head injury for that; he could've just used a razor on his brows like everybody else. He's the center, and I'm the QB, so I get to spend a lot of time pressed up against his ass, my hands right between his thighs, basically smearing my knuckles all over the frankly enormous swell of his cock. I mean, he stuffs his jock; he doesn't have some foot-long black python, 'cause this isn't that kind of story -- sorry dudes. But fuck, like, rimming has always seemed kind of gross, but man after spending half an hour practicing hikes with him I can't fucking think of anything aside from getting my face planted between his cheeks, spreading them until I can french his asshole, christ.

He's really fucking hot is the thing, right, and it's kind of an open secret on the team that, uh, I'm kind of slutty, so I get a lot of guys between gfs or just who wanna fuck around with a guy, but even though he's gotta know all that he's never done the thing guys do, sidling up to me after we shower, pressing their cock up against my ass through the towel, all, hey, bro, wanna meet me in the stalls, I hear you'd suck me off. Verne doesn't even fucking shower with the rest of us, he got some fucking "medical exemption" to use the shower in the coach's office, and so no one's even seen his dick. The rumor going around -- that I didn't bother to correct once I knew better -- was that he had like elephantitis, like, foot and half long dick, balls like grapefruit, had to get a specially-sized cup.

I saw his bare ass once, him just in his white jock, the pouch fucking gigantic, curly wiry hairs escaping in all directions, and I jerked off for the next week thinking just of his pert fuckin' ass, cheeks high and round and all hairy, fucking muscular and enormous.

So anyway one day he sticks around shooting the shit with the dudes before he showers, half naked and sweaty, so once he finally ducks into the Coach's office almost everyone else is gone.

I probably shouldn't have, but if I didn't you all wouldn't be getting the story, so it works out for the best. The only other guy still in the locker room, Jase, left, and then I'm alone in the locker room, with only the low sound of the coach's shower running. All I could think about was how Verne was naked and showering through the wall, not even ten feet away.

So I went into the coach's office and cracked open the bathroom door. I was thinking, hey, maybe finally get a chance to check out Verne totally naked, get more jerkoff material. Maybe even see his dick. The problem was, I'd never been in the coach's bathroom before. It's a little tiled box with a toilet, a sink, and a showerhead, and there's basically no way not to immediately notice the door opening.

Verne curses, a loud "Fuck!", and jerks his hand over to the towel rack, dragging his towel in front of him before he even shuts off the water.

He's... man, he's fucking gorgous, okay? Water running down his bulky muscles, framing the giant swell of his thighs. Without a jock banded over the curve of his ass, his asscheeks are even huger, giant pert mounds of solid muscle. A weird shaky whine bursts out of my mouth, which is embarrassing, but I'd like any of you to see the dude in front of you and not make a weird sound.

"Fuck, Verne," is what I think I said. I wasn't exactly thinking. "Dude, lemme suck your cock."

Verne, though, looks pissed. "What the fuck, dude?!" he yells. "Did the guys put you up to this?" He grimaces, upper lip pulled in a sneer.

My cock's leaking in my jock, knifing up against my mesh shorts. I probably look drugged, chapped lips parted, eyes dilated, face all flushed. He's fuckin' beautiful, still a little sweaty, skin all glistening down his chest, between his fat pecs. He's holding a towel across his hips, and it cuts right across the huge V of his stomach, the skin in the center looking dark and heavy, all fleecy with short-cropped hair. I'm fucking staring.

"No, man, it's all me, man, please," I say, and my voice cracks in the middle, like I'm some hormonal 13 year-old. "Let me suck your cock." My cock is harder than it's ever been, leaking slimy pre across my jock, and everything is kind of shuddering and hazy in the corner of my eyes, like I'm about to pass out. Like all the blood in my body is in my cock, cockhead scraping up against the front of my pouch.

Verne scowls. He curls the wet towel around his waist, just so he can cross his arms in front of his chest, threatening, but I'm just watching his biceps flex. "Get the fuck out."

"I swear I won't tell anyone, it doesn't have to be gay, I'll do whatever you want, just, please, man." I beg, taking a half-step forward, and he shoves me back. His open hand's like a burn across my chest, heat and pressure lingering even after I stagger back.

So that didn't really go well. Well, at first.

The next week, though, Verne caught me and Kyle fucking around in the locker room.

Kyle says he's not into guys, but since we're buds he'll do me a favor sometimes and let me suck his cock. I really gotta beg for it -- last night I was over at his place, playing games, and when I got one too-many headshots he tackled me, wrestling me to the ground 'til I was pinned. We fucked around, and I got him to agree to let me blow him at school the next day, even if he'd only let me jerk him off then, so the next day -- oh, sorry, yeah, you probably wanna hear more about that part.

So I was on my back, breathless with laughter, squirming and yelling, with Kyle pinning me down, arms wrapped around my wrists, legs hooked around my calves, ass on my thighs. We were just in shorts and undershirts, hanging loose, and his cock was out of the lining, ragingly hard jutting down one leg. He knew I couldn't fucking focus once I got a look at his cock.

The leg hung open, his cock a pipe down one side, head fat and sweet resting against my stomach. I tried to get up, arms straining, hips jerking him up, and his shorts legs worked up his thighs, rucking up across his hips until they were covering less than fucking skimpy-ass briefs would. His cock was poking out the leg, rock hard, fat, a slimy drop of fluid dripping from the flushed slit.

I went still, staring down at it. I was hard too, cock practically bent in half to fit in the mesh pouch of my shorts, Kyle sitting almost in front of it. He rocked his hips forward, pressure squeezing my cockhead between my thighs. My mouth dropped open, laughter turned into a low groan as Kyle basically fucked my cock between my thighs, just sitting forward and then back.

"You getting off on this, bro?" he said, voice low. "Just a little wrestling, man, everyone does it, but you're all boned up, huh?"

"Y--Yeah, Kyle, come on, you know I am." I pushed against him, arms flexing, trying to shove him off. He leaned forward again, grinding slow against my cock, and the slippery-sharp shock of my cockhead popping between my thighs made me shudder and go still. "C'mon, please, you don't gotta do anything, just let me get you off."

Kyle laughed. "Nah, man, you know I'm not into that shit."

I whined. "Kyle, c'mon, I'll do-- I'll do anything, man, just lemme touch your dick."

My cock was a fucking lump in my shorts, just barely under Kyle's thighs, throbbing hard each time I tried to throw him off.

"Anything?" Kyle said, and I nearly came from that alone.

"Yeah, fuck, Kyle, anything--"

Kyle hummed. "Tomorrow," he said. "I'll let you suck me off tomorrow. Maybe after school." He grinned down at me. "Maybe in two days. I wanna see you all distracted, thinking about my cock."

I whined. "Tomorrow, please, c'mon, I can't wait two days."

Kyle laughed, hands flexing against my arms where he had me pinned. "You're not in any position to make demands, y'know. Tell me how much you want my cock."

"Kyle," I whined. "Fuck, I wanna touch it, I want you to fuck my mouth. I wanna taste your load. Your cock's so good Kyle, fuck, c'mon, please!"

"I guess tomorrow would be fine," he said. "No jerking off until then, though." He leaned back, letting my dick tap against his back. That alone nearly made me come.

Anyway, that's how it went, until Verne walks in on me blowing Kyle in the locker room the next day. Kyle doesn't really get off on just lips, so I really gotta beg to blow him -- he gets off on being a little mean -- but when he lets me he likes to make it a production. The locker room was my idea.

We get inside and I just go for it, reaching over to grope his crotch, and Kyle shoves me back. "No way man, don't just grope me, come on. Use your fuckin' mouth."

So I'm on my knees, naked, and he's completely dressed, his cock knifing up from the fly of his jeans, tugged through his boxers. He's leaning against the lockers, fucking my mouth, making me gag -- we both like that; I like the weight, the little sharp-shock pain as his fat cockhead shoves into my throat and pops out; he likes seeing me cry and gag on my knees in front of him -- with a lazy hand curled into my hair, pulling me back and forth on his cock.

"You're such a fucking slut," he's saying, because he fucking loves dirty talk. "The big QB's just a queer; you'd suck off anyone who lets you wrap your lips around their cock."

He pulls me off his cock with a wet squelch, phlegm and pre in solid white cords between his cock and the inside of me mouth, stretching and dragging over me tongue. "Yeah man," I said, lips flushed and swollen, voice all clotted and thick. My lips curl against his cockhead, all smooth and heavy. "You know it, I fucking--" and he shoves back inside, gagging me with his cock, words cut off in a long liquid squelch as he shoves his meaty cock back down my throat.

He fucks my mouth until my face is a mess of spit and phelgm, lips bruised from the ridge of his cockhead popping back and forth over them. He just likes ramming my head down on his dick, feeling my throat spasm, hearing the wet squelch as I try not to gag. I've gotten better at deepthroating, but getting facefucked is a whole other thing.

So, he kicks me off his cock, my ass slamming into the mats on the floor, back hitting the bench in the middle of the aisle. I groan, half in pain and half from seeing how he goes for his cock, hand squelching through my clotted phlegm stuck all along his shaft. His balls are drawn up tight between his thighs, right below his cock. He pumps himself once or twice, just a fraction away from coming. "Where do you want my load, you disgusting slut, huh?" he says, sneering. "I bet you want to fucking guzzle my jizz, but I think it'd look better smeared all across your fucking faggot face."

"Oh god," I say, because I'm so hard I can't think, just stare blankly at the underside of his cock as he steps right over me, fucking rank with the smell of sweat and jizz and my throat, sloppy slime splashing in tiny droplets across my chest.

My mouth is open, though, so I guess Kyle takes that as a good target, and he pushes the head of his cock down, fat helmet dimpling over my lower lip as he unloads. "Yeah, fucking take it you little bitch!" he yells, sliding his cock over my lips, spurting jizz in heavy wet splashes across my cheek, one strand shooting far enough to spray over my closed eye, the rest just splashing in droplets over my face.

I reach down to touch my cock and Kyle blocks me with his leg. "Nah, man, don't touch yourself." He grins, cheeks dimpling. "I want you to fuckin' go home and jerk off thinking about me. Clean me off," he adds, dragging his cock through the mess on my face, still hard and spongy, dimpling a little as he pushes the come-coated tip against my lips. I suck it in, sloppily bathing his cockhead with spit, dragging my tongue over the tip, swallowing down his jizz. He rocks forward a little, lips parted, letting the ridge of his cockhead pop back and forth over my lips, not going for a second time, just using my mouth while he's got it. I keep sucking until he's almost completely soft, tongue lapping over the soft-hard swell of his cockhead. He finally pushes me off, cock soft and shriveled, and then he tips my face up with his fingers, brushing over my chin.

"Man, you just don't get tired of sucking cock, do you," he murmurs, looking down at me. "Hey, open up," he says, and I obligingly open wide, tongue pressing up against my teeth. He spits on me, splattering high across my cheek, and then again, this time catching on my upper lip, spanning across my tongue. "You're so fuckin' hot, bro," he says, dipping close, mouth dragging against the shell of my ear. "Call me when you jerk off, I wanna hear you moan when you come all over yourself."

I swallow thickly, his spit tasteless and thick down my throat. "Yeah," I say, ragged and thick, just a shade away from a sigh.

He tucks his dick back into his boxers and zips up, idly waving as he leaves me naked on the floor of the locker room.

I grasp my cock, not really trying to jerk off, just so fucking turned on I need something. But that's when I notice Verne lurking around the corner of the locker, visible through the mesh wiring. "Dude," I say, and now that I'm trying to talk it's clear how wrecked my voice is. "Verne!"

He kind of sidles out into the open, and in the harsh florescent lighting it's not hard to catch the flushed heat across his cheeks, even with his dark skin. He looks away, not meeting my eyes, or really looking at me at all. He was totally watching, anyway.

"You, uh, okay?" he says, standing there awkwardly.

My mind's still blown from Kyle, so it takes a minute. "Huh? No, like, it's cool." There's this itch, like, I wanna keep him talking about sex with me as long as I can. "Kyle likes being in charge or whatever, it's super hot."

"You shouldn't have to--" he says, looking up at me, and then cuts himself off, flushed and staring.

"Dude, it's cool. And whatever, he's totally right anyway, I'd suck anyone's cock if they let me. Well, any hot guy."

There's an awkward pause. Verne shifts his weight. "You, uh, really weren't joking, huh?"

"Verne, man, give me the fucking word, christ, let me and I'll fucking crawl over there and do everything for you." I'm all flushed now too, my face on fire, my cock flagging minutely -- actually fucking is easier than the lead-up, getting someone to go all-in, and christ, every time I look at Verne I'm just reminded how much I fucking want him. It's embarassing. "Like, you want me to beg? I'll fuckin' beg, come on, whatever fucked-up shit you wanna do, come on, just let me suck you."

He's wide-eyed, flushing hot. He swallows, his heavy Adam's apple jogging up and then down. The noise is loud in the still locker room, just him and me and that one dripping showerhead.

"C'mon," he says finally, jerking his head to Coach's office. I fucking scramble to my feet, naked and hard and face all tacky with Kyle's jizz. Verne fishes his key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, stepping through the closed office into the private bathroom. He closes the door before flipping on the light. "Wash your fucking face," he says, gesturing at the sink, and I splash water across my face, rubbing my palms over my cheeks until I just look wild-eyed and flushed, and not like I just got a facial. In the mirror's reflection I can see Verne staring at my ass.

"So, like, how are we doing this?" I say, turning, hands against the sink edge at my back, leaning casually like I'm not totally naked. Verne's just two feet away, staring. Nerves, I figure -- plenty of straight guys are down with fucking around, but you gotta take some initiative. "Can I-- Can I touch you?"

He jerkily nods, still just staring as I reach for his waist. He's hot, skin flushed under my touch as I spread my palm over the huge chunky muscles of his stomach. His fanning pubes glide under my fingers, thick and curly, muscle rock hard beneath, and I reach over, pull his shirt up. I was half-hard for a while, but just being this close to a guy, close enough I can feel the heat radiating off him, hands all over his muscles -- fuck, that's hot.

I move to pull his shirt off and he helps, tossing it to the side, and fuck, he's hot. His pecs are smooth, pushing out from his chest of muscle, nipples flat and large, and below that his chest is just a solid keg of muscle. It swells with each breath, the slope of his shoulders, the swell of his chest. I drag my hands up his sides, skin soft and warm, until I'm practically cupping his pecs like a pair of tits, his nipples grinding against my palms.

"Fuck, you're so hot." My words hiss out against the slope of his shoulder, his traps fucking huge, sharp and massive along his back. He grabs me, hands wrapping over my hips and side, and drags me close. My cock smears pre all over his stomach as we grind together. I let out a ragged, high moan, matched by his shaky exhale, his breath billowing like steam across my cheek. I'm halfway through "Fuck, can we--" when he slams me against the wall and starts fucking kissing the shit out of me. It's wet, and fucking rough, smooth lips dragging over mine, and he fucking bites down on my lower lip, dragging it out, grinning against my lips when I let out a shaky gasp, rutting my cock up against his stomach, smearing his hair down as my wet cockhead drags over his stomach, back and forth.

"That okay?" he says, just a hair of space between us, his lips sliding against mine as he talks, wet and slick. His voice is rough and husky, lower than usual. His eyelashes look really long, shadowing over his half-hooded eyes.

"Yeah, fuck, man, that's fantastic," I say, breathless, staring down the slope of his side, eyes unfocused across his huge shoulder. He kisses me again, slower, lips slowly parting as he licks inside my mouth. Like, Kyle doesn't really like to kiss, which is why he does the spitting thing, but some of the other guys are down with it. They always do this thing where they pry my mouth open and just plunge their tongue in right down to the back, jaw open like they're aiming for just getting their tongue as deep as possible. Verne, though, just swipes his tongue over my lips, curling inside, and then I push back, tongues squirming against each other. It's a lot wetter than I'm used to, not drooly, just a lot more motion and slickness. I think I like it.

Verne breaks the kiss, pressing down over my chin and then down my check, dragging his stubbly cheek down over my flushed lips, prickling over my chin. He slurps a wet, ragged hickey into my neck, tongue slick over my skin.

"Fuck, man, bite me," I say, ragged and groaning, and he nips at it, teeth sharp, a little shock of sharp pleasure/pain ripping over my neck.

"Fuck, harder," I wail, and he doesn't need any fucking prompting; he fucking obliges. He bites down, hard and sharp, right into the meaty junction of my neck. I let out a strangled moan, eyes rolling back as he keeps just mauling me, tipping my head to the side to get a better angle. Like, fuck worrying about hickies, I'm gonna have bruises. I'm all squirming in his grip, wailing and writhing as he tears across my neck, and when he rakes his hand down my chest to drag over my nipple I suck a hissing, sharp breath through my teeth and jerk back.

"Wait, wait, dude, hold on," I gasp out, pushing him back fractionally, and he jolts back.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, like he's got anything to apologize about.

"What?" I slap a hand across the split-slick, bruised span of my neck, making sure I'm not fucking bleeding; that would maybe be a little too much for our first makeout sesh. "No, dude, just, uh, fuck, that was... great, but, uh, you play with my nips I'm gonna come all over, so, uh..." I kind of trail off.

"Kyle told you not to?" Verne's glowering, brow furrowed.

"Huh? No, fuck Kyle, just figured you wouldn't be into me, like, jizzing on your tits or whatever."

He grins, teeth all sharp and white. He steps close again, and my cock drags up over his stomach. He grinds against me, and when I'm arching into him, eyes fluttering shut, his left hand curls over my hip and shoves me back against the wall, cock bobbing in midair. "You get off just from that? I wanna see it."

My cock twitches between the two of us, dripping a tiny, translucent tendril. "Oh christ," I say, weakly. He leans in and I tip my neck in the other direction, lots of tanned skin for him to tear into. And christ, he does, biting and chomping all over my trap, from the junction of my neck down almost all the way out to my shoulder, in sharp overlapping bites. It's not all teeth, there's tongue, lips dragging over the bruised skin, smoothing the pain of the bite, and then he chomps down again, pain rougher over the overlapping prints. I groan, high, and try to grind against him, but he keeps me pinned against the wall with just the one hand, fingers digging into my hips almost hard enough to bruise.

He drags his hand down my chest and this time when he grinds his knuckles over my nip I don't pull back. He pinches down, twisting. It's like a shock of lightning, pain burning across my chest, bolts of fiery heat pulsing down my chest, shooting straight to my oozing cock. He pinches down hard and jerks out, pulling my pec into a fat cone, the tip the swollen bud of my nipple, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. I bellow and sob, pulses like raw electricity shooting from my tortured nipple, and all the while he's tearing into my shoulder, ragged red-purple bruises blossoming across my tanned skin. He lets go and I sob, eyes watering.

"More, man, please," I beg, throat catching, and he switches across my chest, already pert and erect, pale and tight compared to the swollen red mess he left my other nip. He twists it around, until it's closer to some schoolyard torment than anything else, and I'm uncontrollably whining, high in my throat, cock dripping all over the place.

"Fuck, man, I'm gonna blow," I pant out, twisting into his palm, making him dig down harder in the already-bruised flesh of my hip.

"Yeah, c'mon, lemme see you," he growls, rough and growling, slurred through his teeth as he keeps mauling across my shoulder.

I'm just gasping and shuddering, whining, the most coherent words just "Oh fuck, Verne, oh fuck," over and over, Verne got his teeth sunk vampire-like into the meat of my shoulder, knuckles brushing my skin as he mangles my nipple, twisted and bruised. I just wail, finally ripping my hands from behind my back to squeeze Verne's huge biceps, arching up onto my tip-toes as I shoot a long, heavy rope of jizz across his bare stomach, completely untouched. My mouth's hanging open, eyes rolled back, and it's like every nerve in my body is routed straight to my cock, the sensation of the rippling spasms as I shoot tearing through me and leaving me drooling and vacant.

I'm weak and trembling by the time I finish, legs trembling, and my legs just buckle, sending me to my knees. My neck and chest are pulsing with pain, my heartbeat a rapid throb, and each pass is like reliving it over again, sharp and hot. I made a real mess of his stomach, solid diagonal stripes of jizz splattered across his keg stomach, runny fluid slowly dripping down.

I lean in and lick it up, tongue following the sloppy lines, from the center of his hips, just above the waist of his boxers -- he inhales sharply -- up over the chunky cut of his hip, and then higher, across the center of his chest. My own come tastes salty and heavy, mixing with the new taste of his sweat, rich and thick under my tongue.

Kneeling in front of him, there's an obvious question to ask. It still takes me like a minute of staring vacantly at his huge muscles before my fried brain gets there. "Uh, can I suck you off?" I say, looking up at him. He looks down at me, eyes maybe a little wild, dark flush all down his neck. He swallows, plush lips parting, and when he says "Yeah" it's more like he just exhales the word.

I mean, the guy's obviously super nervous, but my brain is fried just being around him; don't blame me for not picking up on it. I reach up and curl my fingers on the waist of his boxers and tug them down, letting them spill down his truly fantastic thighs and reveal the bulging jock beneath. His quads are fucking amazing, so huge they fold into a broad divot where they press up against his equally-huge adductors, and between that and the bulky V of his adonis belt it's like his entire body is a big arrow pointing towards his crotch. Dark curly hair frames his inner thighs, spraying out the top of his pouch, and I skim my hands across the straining rim, feeling his body shudder under my touch.

There's the band of a tube sock sticking out of the bulging basket of his jock. I snort, more amused than anything, and peel the side of his pouch aside so I can haul the wadded sock -- two socks -- out, before letting the elastic snap back. Probably it's a good thing I don't look up at his expression then, or else things could've gone totally different. I'm just thinking, fuck this guy is hot. I wrap my hands around the straps of his jock, peeling them away from his asscheeks, and fuck, just getting to see the way the straps bite into his ass makes me want to play with the jock longer, tugging and twisting to see how his ass flexes. Like, I'm in front of him, but his muscle ass is so huge I can clearly see the curve of his cheek as I tug and twist at the straps.

So eventually I haul the jock down his legs. It hits the ground with a slap. His balls jostle lower, skin half-glued together from being crammed in a jock for all of practice, and only the giant, duck-egg weight of his balls peel his sac away.

So. His balls are gigantic, sure, like big fat eggs, but his dick just... isn't. Not isn't gigantic, more like just isn't there. It looks like he's got three balls, the third in the middle and higher up. He's uncut, foreskin loose and completely covering his cockhead even hard. His dick's like, an inch long, maybe two and a half if you include the foreskin.

"Oh," I say.

Verne glowers and moves to yank up his jock. "Fuck, never mind, just--" he starts, and I open my mouth, talk over him.

"No, hey, dude, it's cool. C'mon, let me, I really wanna."

He lets go of the waistband, straightening up, and I lean back in, staring close at his dick. Yeah, it's short as hell, no wonder he's got such a complex about showering. But it's fucking thick, like, jaw-crackingly wide, and his bunched overhanging foreskin makes it that much thicker. With the added thickness of his bunched foreskin, it's like four fingers thick. It's wild. And his balls are amazing, big fat heavy bull balls, fleecy with hair, skin in huge wavy ripples, with a fat two-finger-thick ridge of furrowed flesh up the center of his sac. They're churning, bunching up and down over his thighs, heavy mounds of flesh shifting inside as I just fucking stare. My breath billows over his thighs and his balls pull up tighter, skin folding into chunky ridges, bulges of cord pushing against the tight flesh.

I slide my hands up his thighs, all hairy and massive, stopping with my hands framing his crotch, fingers curled up across his stomach, thumbs under his balls. Like, I kind of want to stroke him, except there's not really anything there to stroke; there's like a finger's thickness between the end of his foreskin-covered cockhead and the muscled arc of his stomach. I try to pull his foreskin back, and it doesn't really fit, not enough shaft. Peeling it back, there's a dark purple sliver of cockhead. He just kind of grunts, the way you do when someone's touching your genitals and you feel obligated to make it seem like something good's happening. That's not good.

I lean in, nose dragging up his thigh, across the side of his cock, until my lips are pressed against the wrinkled folds of his foreskin. I lick my lips, tongue dragging over his salty skin, and then I press forward, kissing the folds of his foreskin, lips and tongue slowly circling around, pushing inside. He squirms, breath rasping a little rougher. He tastes heady, salt and sweat. My tongue penetrates through his foreskin and pushes flat against his glans, and he fucking explodes. He groans, bellowing, hands fisting in my hair, and he rocks his hips forward, not really shoving any more of his cock inside, just grinding my face against the crinkly hairs of his crotch.

"Fuck, Danny," he says on the exhale. His cock twitches, spurting out a dribble of salt-bitter slime, coating my tongue. He grunts, the sound a low 'hngh' from deep in his throat, guttural and heavy. He goes through the motion of fucking my mouth, hips snapping forward, pulling my head down, and it's weirdly novel to be buried in a dude's pubes, mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and still be able to breathe no problem. No cockhead tapping against my tonsils, just lips and tongue and teeth, dragging along the folds of his slick foreskin.

It's just a totally new experience. Like, my lips and tongue are a whole lot better at working his foreskin back than my fingers, and I swipe up and down his glans, slit leaking cockslime. He's spurting pre like most guys come. 'He must be really pent up,' I think, and then I realize like a fucking bolt of lightning that he's gotta be a virgin, that this is his first fucking time ever, holy shit.

He sure as hell doesn't last long. He gets louder, gasping grunts, and between them: "Fuck, Danny, I'm gonna come." I just hum around his cock, licking harder up and down his cockslit, and he tugs me back. "Seriously, I'm gonna blow." He pulls me off with a lewd, sloppy crackle, and his dick is all shiny and glistening, coated in globs of pre. His cock pulses, spurting another line of pre against the inside of his foreskin, and it drools out in a solid cord and then keeps drooling, like a fuckin leaky faucet.

"Wanna taste you," I say, straining against his hand, mouth open, tongue sticking out. He's holding me back like you hold a fucking dog from a bone, a hand spread across my chest. "Want you to come in my mouth."

"Jesus." His voice rasps, and I look up to find him looking down at me, eyes dilated wide, lips just slightly parted. But he stops holding me back, and I just sink down on his cock again. The thick coating of pre smeared across his foreskin has gone cold and clammy even just in the few seconds I was off his cock, now all gummy and slimy, and I lap it up, tongue dragging over his folds of foreskin before pushing them back again. He's leaking, a constant stream of slick pre, and already I have to swallow in messy slurps to keep up. I keep licking his cockhead, back and forth in lazy swipes, and his shuddering jerks forward get harder and harder. His stomach tenses, the huge V of his crotch going sharply defined as he hunches forward, working the underside of his cock into my mouth, foreskin dragging thick and wrinkled over my lower lip.

He groans when he comes, just, mouth wide open, throat rumbling, and he's a fucking shooter. His cockhead swells like half-again as large, like straight-up stuck in my mouth, all rock-hard. Jizz sprays from his slit, all across my tongue, with enough force to fucking splash off the roof of my mouth. I moan too, curling my tongue around his cockhead, drooling all over his balls even as I swallow the honest-fucking-mouthfuls of jizz he's spraying right into the back of my throat. He comes and then he keeps coming, fat cockhead flexing in my mouth with each spurt as he hoses down my tonsils with rope after rope of his slimy jizz.

He pushes me off, and I push back, against his hand, neck straining forward, a whimper that turns into a whine as he forces my mouth off, tongue sliding out from his foreskin. He reaches down, circling two knuckles around his dick, grinding against the underside. The last few spurts come out like a fucking sprinkler, the powerful spurts hitting the inside of his foreskin and just spraying in all directions from the hanging hood, splattering my face all over with wet dribbles, and then he wipes his dick over my face, foreskin squishing wetly as he drags it over my skin, smearing the cords of come all around.

He's still leaking, come and spit dripping from the inside of his foreskin, spurting out across my skin as I lap over his thighs and balls, licking up clear, salty drops of his jizz. I suck the nub of his dick back into my mouth with a muffled groan, and he groans, mouth dropping open as he keeps making these low, rumbling noises, shuddering breath.

He curls his right hand around the back of my head, blunt fingertips digging into the space between my traps, his left dragging over my cheek, smeared with jizz and spit, the knuckle of his thumb just barely dragging over my lips, fingers digging into the joint of my jaw, spreading it wide.

His foreskin's puffy and flooded with trapped jizz, pungent slime drooling over my tongue as I shove back inside, and he rocks my head back and forth, groaning. He's still drooling jizz in sudden wet spurts, just oozing in sloppy trails into my mouth as I slurp around his fat cockhead. Hot slime smears across my tongue as I dig back deeper inside his heavy foreskin, pungent and musky. My tongue drags under his cockhead, sliding over the bundled cord of his frenulum, and he hisses out a groan. "Fuck, man, keep going," he says.

I kneel there, pressing up against him, pinned between his furry tree-trunk thighs, both his hands gripping my face, rutting his nubby cock against my face, his bull balls slapping all slimy against my chin. He grinds his dick down, groaning, and I hungrily make out with his foreskin, tongue lapping up slimy globs of jizz from across his cockhead, swallowing hard. I dig my tongue into his sloppy foreskin, feeling across the folds to work out every smear of his load, until I stop tasting the salt tang.

His balls are still dripping with slime, cocooned in layers of spit-thinned jizz, so I pull off his mounded foreskin with a pop and shift lower. My lips curl around one of his enormous balls, tongue lapping out to catch one of the fat, slimy cords of ooze hanging from his balls. All the hair is matted down by slime, tangling wiry and sharp against my tongue as I lick up and down his slimy ballsac. I suck one ball, then the other into my mouth, until my cheeks are bulging like a fucking chipmunk as I slobber across his sac, slurping up the dregs of his load off his fleecy nuts. I roll them around in my mouth, tongue scraping over his skin, and don't stop until he's cleaned off, his sac slick and shiny with spit, all the mess of his load in globs down my throat. Then I sit back, spitting out his balls one-two, mouth and chin a mess of slobber, and grin cock-eyed up at him.

"Fuck, Verne," I say. "That was like a fuckin' cup of jizz." I swallow heavily, more to show off than because I've got more come in my mouth. I fuckin' drank it all already. "That was so fuckin' hot."

Verne is flushed and panting, chest heaving, fresh sweat dripping down his sides, and I rise up on wobby legs, licking up a salt-sweet line of sweat up his stomach, over his pecs, until I'm kissing his jaw. Uh, obviously, a lot of the straight guys don't like to kiss at all, and basically nobody wants to kiss me right after I've got a mouthful of come, but Verne just groans and hauls me up against his chest, kissing me hard. That's when he does the tongue thing, shoving it into my mouth to try to lap up the last bit of his load, and fuck I'm really not anticipating how hot I'm finding that in the moment. I groan into his mouth, my cock flexing between us, and he curls a fist around my dick, stroking it as he shoves me back until I'm pinned against the wall. The both of us are snorting for breath as the kiss goes on, panting, and it only takes him like one pump, two, before I'm moaning like a little bitch into his mouth and jizzing all over his tits again.

So that was how I first got to suck Verne's cock. It was great. You all wish you'd gotten to do it.