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Community Service Part 1 by Mads van Duessen
Email back and forth, more than I was usually willing to suffer to get some cock, went back and forth until he finally got up the nerve to come to my place.
From Jay Dog Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org to me Subject Blow-n-go
Pretty straight married man looking to come over, lay back and get head. Wife doesn't do it. Clean and hung here. 6'3" 195 40yo. Pics attached. This would be my first time being naked with a dude. Sent from my iPhone 5
HUNG, definitely, and big bull balls, low-hanging. Built, too – awesome six-pack, great v-shape, light dusting of fur. I didn't bother to correct the obvious imprecision – this guy was obviously regularly naked with men in a locker room somewhere! LOL I knew what he meant – he was saying he's a first-timer, but I was skeptical, skeptical but not bothered by the likely fib.
From me to Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org Subject RE: Blow-n-go
That's exactly what I am offering – you come, YOU CUM, you go – that's it, no reciprocation, nothing but you enjoying my mouth on your cock and balls and your load blasting down my throat.
OK, so I WANTED his cock – what looked like probably 9" of it – balls-deep in my ass. But if all he wanted or all he'd be comfortable with, then that's what he'd get.
Nineteen long minutes later.
From Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org to me Subject RE: RE: Blow-n-go
OK that's what I want, you to take my clothes off, lay down and see if you can make me shoot. When can I come? Sent from my iPhone 5
Hmmm . . . the "take my clothes off" thing – not my usual thing, but . . . hey, for that bod and cock . . .
From me to Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org Subject RE: RE: Blow-n-go
Sooner the better, dude. Sooner you get here, sooner my mouth will be wrapped around that beautiful fuckrod of yours and you'll feel your nuts boiling and getting ready to blast your seed down my hungry throat!
8 minutes later.
From Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org to me Subject RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go
I am working late. If you can do now I will leave work now and go there and tell my wife when I get home that I worked until just then. You are clean and neg, right? I can't risk taking anything home to my wife. Sent from my iPhone 5
OK, maybe he really IS a first-timer. I'm assuming by "clean" he means DDF (drug and disease-free), which would make "neg" (HIV-negative) redundant.
From me to Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org Subject RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go
Dude, like my profile said, I'm clean, drug and disease-free and of course that includes HIV-negative. You up for this, because I can't wait to drain those impressive nuts. Tell me you're up for it and I'll email you my address, or I'll text it to you, whichever you want.
26 LONG minutes later. From Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org to me Subject RE: RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go I'm ready to leave. Can I call you? Sent from my iPhone 5
I fucking HATE it when guys get all "I need to talk to you (and ask 10,000 questions and talk and not ever get their cocks to where I can enjoy them!) and stuff". But that cock . . . and that bod . . . and IF he's the real deal and needs my "help" . . .
From me to Jay Dog e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org Subject RE: RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go
Sure bud, but let's do this. If you want to get off, I promise you you'll be glad you did. [And I added my cell phone number.]
2 minutes later, my cell phone rang. The number wasn't even blocked. My racing thoughts debated – does that mean he IS the real deal, a first-timer if he isn't even skilled enough to block his cell phone number . . . OR . . . is this the sign of a player, and the whole thing is just a game he plays? WHO THE FUCK CARES? That cock and those balls and that bod . . .
"Yo," I said.
"Hey," he said.
Nice deep voice, maybe even deeper than mine, which is pretty deep, and very masculine-normal inflection. "So you want to take down my address?" I asked, cutting to the chase.
"Well, now that I've heard your voice and know you're real, go ahead and text it to me, OK?"
I laughed – I couldn't help it. I put my phone on speaker. "Dude, that's supposed to be my line!" I laughed again, while I punched in my address into my phone and hit SEND. I heard the swoosh sound on my phone when it sent the text message, and within a quick moment, I heard his phone chime. "That might be me . . . or the other cocksucker you're negotiating with," I said, with a chuckle.
"Uh, there's nobody else," he said, uneasily. "You're my one chance," he added, a little . . . bashfully.
I laughed again – I couldn't help it. "Well," I said, after I composed myself, "You made a good choice, dude, because you're going to fucking LOVE the way I drain your nuts." Cocky? Absofuckinglutely! And with good reason.
There was a long pause, which I'd decided I needed to wait out.
"I've never done this," he said, about when I thought I'd lost him.
"Well," I said, "The sooner you get here, the sooner you will have."
"Um, what?" he said, nervously.
"What what?"
"I didn't understand what you meant when you said that. It could be your accent."
Or it could be that you're either just plain nervous or you really are negotiating with another cocksucker, I thought to myself. "Forget my humor – it's not nearly as good as my mouth!" I said, and in case he really was nervous I quickly went on. "Look, bud, if you don't want to do this –"
"NO," he almost roared, cutting me off. And then he seemed to lose the force of his momentary will.
I waited.
"I mean," he said, in a suddenly soft voice, "I want to come to you."
"Well, great!" I said, enthusiastically. "I'm glad."
"OK," he said, a little more regular tone. And when I was prepared for another pause, he surprised me by quickly adding, "I've got your address here, and you're only a few blocks from my office. If it's OK, I'll be there in about ten minutes," he said, more as a question.
"When you get to the door, push sixty-nine, and it'll ring me and I can send the code to open the door."
"Sixty-nine?" he asked, with the first hint of a chuckle.
"I know, right? I had nothing to do with that; that's the building's code that was programmed to my unit when I moved in and the system was reprogrammed. Though," I added with a chuckle, "The building engineer already had a good idea that it would be an appropriate code for me!"
"Um," he said, and he stopped again.
"Hey I've got an idea," I said.
"What's your idea?" he said, sounding appreciative for a segue.
"Well, first of all, why don't YOU get going on your way here. That way your cock will be in my mouth soon, maybe even the ten minutes from a moment ago, or at least not too much longer. Sound like a plan?"
"Yeah," he said, surprisingly without hesitation.
"And," I jumped in and continued, "I'm Mads. You don't have to tell me your name if you don't want, but now you know mine. Mads van Duessen. So now you have my address, you have my name, and I'll add so you know, in case you weren't aware, I really can't wait for you to get here so I can suck your cock like nobody's ever sucked your cock before!"
To that, he finally laughed, a real laugh. "Well, then, I'd better get my," and then he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Cock," he hissed, "Over there!"
"Great idea, dude."
"Jay," he said.
"Get your cock over here, Jay!"
"Great idea, Mads," he said decisively.
About nine minutes later, my phone rang, and the callerID said it was my downstairs door. I answered, "Go to the sixth floor in the elevator," I said, hitting star-six to unlock the building door.
When the elevator opened, I was waiting with my door open, and as he came out he looked relieved to see me and hurried to my door and inside. I gave him a long look up and down and couldn't stop myself from grinning. Tall, within an inch or so of my six-five. Built, OMG he was built! And handsome, like an action movie star, which I hadn't seen before because his pics were headless. Well, not headless, exactly – after all his cockhead had been prominently displayed. I couldn't wait to see if that, like everything else, would exceed my expectation!
"What?" he asked, looking at me curiously.
"You're HOT, that's what, Jay," I said, and I moved closer and ran my hands over his pecs and down to his narrow waist. I felt hard-as-stone muscle and sinew and cold feel his fur through the fabric. I brought my face up and looked into his eyes . . . and let my hand move down from his waist where I'd stopped, over his slacks and to a wonderfully HUGE HARD cock. When I gripped it, he gasped, and his eyes closed with a flutter. I used my other hand and got his bigger-than-I-expected balls in my grip, eliciting a low groan and a forceful throb of that monster cock. "Like that?" I asked, leaning in closer, my voice a hoarse whisper.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," was all he said, but his cock continued to throb in my hand, and the heat from his balls increased.
"Come on, stud. You're about to have a GREAT time," I said, pulling him by his cock and starting away from the entry and toward the hall to my bedroom. He followed awkwardly, his big feet kicking my heels as I maintained my grip on that horsecock.
We got to my bedroom, and I let go of his cock reluctantly, and moved my hands back up his torso and swept his jacket back off his shoulders and draped it over the back of a chair. I wasted no time getting his belt unbuckled, his pants unfastened and unzipped, his shoes off, his shirt unbuttoned and off, and I forced myself not to dawdle on his magnificent torso but finished by getting his pants and boxer shorts off, which had a sizeable wet spot way over to the side and up by the waist where his enormous cockhead had been.
I made sure one of my hands was on his body at all times, right now my left hand was running over the beautiful outline of his well-developed shoulder cap and down his slab pec, letting the light fur delight my fingertips and palm as I moved down toward and over his nipple. His body tensed suddenly, almost a shudder, when the edge of my palm met that stiffening nipple. "Are you OK, Jay?" I asked, while gently caressing that now harder nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
"OH FUCK YES, man, don't stop," he answered, and to that encouragement I gave the nipple a sharper tweak with my fingers and felt his body spasm and saw his fuckrod jerk in a wild upward then down again motion and a glob of precum was there, dripping – no, flowing – from the tip. "Oh, Jesus, yes," he moaned.
I had his boxer briefs in my other hand, and I brought them to my face and buried it in the crotch, rubbing them around so that the thick gooey wet spot was over my lips. I inhaled deeply, and I tweaked that nipple again, even harder than before, but still well in the straight man range of nip intensity, and his whole body jerked, including his cock again, wildly jumping up then flopping down again, another glob of precum thrown off in the down movement, and another loud "AAAAAAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhh!" from him.
For my part I was painfully aroused – as in my own not-insignificant cock was straining in impossible constraints inside my jeans. This straight first-timer could be skittish about me whipping it out – I had no idea . . . yet. I moved into him a step so that my jeans were just barely touching his bobbing manmeat. "Tell me, Jay," I said, in a husky, low voice, my face still buried in his boxer briefs.
His eyes, I realized, had been closed, his head thrown back some. He opened them and looked at me, and his eyes widened as he saw my indulgence in his underwear. "Fuuuuuuuuck," he said, quickly followed by, "Er, what? T-tell you w-what?" he stuttered, as I worked his nipple gently but noticeably, and he fought to keep his eyes on me and his head not thrown back.
"Tell me what I can and can't do, Jay. Tell me what you want," I said, with a dramatic deep inhalation of his scent from those boxers and a suck of that glob of precum, all the while never letting my eyes leave his.
He struggled with it – on all levels, it was obvious. I could play his body like a musical instrument from that one nipple, that was apparent. He was also enthralled by my involvement with his sweaty, precummy underwear. But he was also afraid, nervous, uncertain and probably unprepared to direct what would follow, thus my question was agony to him. "Uh, Mads, uh, I, uh, I'm not sure what, er, how much I, er, you . . . "
I leaned down and moved the boxer briefs away from my face and took my tongue and made a long swipe over his other nipple, making sure that as I leaned in my jeans jammed into his dripping, throbbing fuckmeat. His entire body spasmed, as he let out a long, almost plaintive moan of sheer pleasure. I reached down at took his cock in my hand again, delighting to myself at the heft of that monster, the feeling of his blood pulsing in it going straight to my own painfully confined cock, and I tongued over that nipple again, this time tweaking the other one harder than ever before. "FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKK man FUUUUUUUCKkkkkkk YEAHHHHHHHH," he cried out.
I brought my face up to face him, my lips a fraction of a millimeter from his. Softly I said, "I can see that's allowed."
"Mads, I . . . " he started but then faltered, and I could see he was falling, falling into a frightened place.
I pushed my head forward until our foreheads touched, his hot and sweaty. "Jay," I coooed and wrapped my arm around him, using my nipple-hand, which elicited a tiny yelp when I removed it. But I pulled him close into me, his hard cock jammed against my jeans and my own hard cock inside it, our heaving, sweat-sheened torsos together, our heads together and our lips so close I'm sure he couldn't have told you that they weren't touching. "Jay, I got you," I continued softly, my voice low and husky. "Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen. You're in control here," I reassured him.
We stood that way for what seemed like an eternity but was seconds in fact, and I was determined that he had to take the next step, he had to find his comfort zone amid the watershed of pleasure he'd sampled and his fear of those very pleasures he was experiencing. I had both arms wrapped around him, holding him, and only our breathing sounded. He felt GOOD.
Finally, he unexpectedly brushed his lips against mine and said, "I, I want you t-to do anyth-thing, everything t-to me, just no p—" He stopped abruptly, but I waited, rubbing my hands on his back, holding him tight until he finally finished. "I don't want any p-p-penetration – SHIT, there I said it!"
I chuckled, and he momentarily tensed at my amusement with his anguish, but I held him tight, reinforcing my hold, and he relaxed again. "May I get undressed with you?"
This time he chuckled, albeit nervously. "I would feel more on even ground if you did, Mads," he said, with a sigh at the end, like that had been weighing on him.
"One last question, Jay," I said, and he exhaled what I think was a sign to go ahead. "Will you promise me you'll verbalize anything you're not completely loving, anything that's scaring you, worrying you will go too far, anything like that?" I asked into his lips.
"Dude, I'm so far out on the limb here, you have no idea," he said, and I could feel it.
"Jay. I. Got. You." I said slowly. "This is yours, whatever you want, whatever you don't, however you like – no strike that – however you LOVE it, you have just to let me know. As much or as little. I could, in fact, get on my knees, take that huge, beautiful fuckmeat of yours," to which his cock twitched and his body trembled, at the mere use of the word," in my mouth, blow you, drain your nuts, and there you'd have it – a faggot sucked your cock and you could go on with no harm, no foul."
He surprised me then and pushed his lips into mine. It wasn't a passionate kiss, and there was no tongue; it was just a press, a very light, though very tender, buss of my lips with his, and then he withdrew to that paper-thin distance between our lips again. "Mads, I want this, so let's do it, OK?"
Shit – who was I to argue. I disengaged from him, slowly, so as not to startle him, and I unbuttoned my jeans and, with care to reposition my contorted hardon so I didn't do major damage, pulled my jeans down. He looked at me with surprise. "You're as big as I am!" he exclaimed. I was stopped dead in my tracks. Was that good or bad? Was he intimidated? And again he surprised me by picking up on my concern. "That's awesome we're just alike as men," he said, reassuring me with a smile.
OK . . . duh, van Duessen, took you long enough to GET it. Jay wanted PARITY. It was his way of making this something real for him to experience and not just "service" for his cock by a cocksucker. It was as if he'd thrown the thought into my head, and I was absolutely certain I now got it. For him, control wasn't what would give him security; no, it was parity with another man, equal footing, not him responsible for directing what would happen despite his inexperience and not another man taking or forcing him. A stray thought – was this what straight men who weren't caught in their I'm-not-gay hangup were all like? OK, back to the stud at hand.
I had my jeans off and faced him naked. I stretched elaborately and gave him a view of my lean-muscular torso and muscled arms and shoulders rippling and rolling. "I feel better," I said with a smirk, and I batted my rock-hard cock once playfully. "Now, where were we?" He looked startled at that, but I pressed ahead, literally and figuratively. I moved to him and gently pushed him back until his legs were at my bed and said, "Climb onto my bed, big boy. You're about to get a pleasure overload!" I said, grinning. "This is my `community service' to the straight men who are pleasure-disadvantaged!" I snarked, and I climbed onto the bed with him.
TO BE CONTINUED
If you like this or any of my stories, I enjoy feedback: madsvand@gmail.com .
As a preview . . .
Jay and I spent two more hours that evening, and he finally had to rehydrate from the fluids I relieved him of, both sweat and cumloads, doing things to and with him he'd opened himself to but really hadn't known more than the rudiments. He wanted to talk when he was showered and dressed again – I could tell – but he had to go home, probably already well outside of any comfort zone, the need for explanations looming. So I walked with him . . . slowly . . . and we talked . . . until I needed to back off in case he was uncomfortable with me on his doorstep, in his space. To my surprise, though . . .