The following is a work of fiction and should be read as such. Resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are offended by reading about consensual sexual relations between teenaged boys or men and teenaged boys or if it is illegal to do so where you are, then please leave now. Likewise, if you are not of legal age to read about such things you too should leave.
If you enjoy this story you may also like The Note' listed in the Highschool section of the Nifty archives in September 1999, Mitch's Homecoming' listed in the Adult-Youth section from December 1999 or `Skate Park Gloryhole' listed in the Highschool section from October 2004.
"Oh you're gonna do it."
"No I ain't gonna fucking do it!"
"Fuck that shit. I did it and you gonna do it too."
"What's it taste like," I asked, not really sure I wanted to know.
"It fucking tastes like tequila, Dumbass."
"Can't we just drink beer? That shit smells nasty," I said.
"Don't be a pussy. Take the shit," Brad said.
It was some stupid drinking game that we had lost. There were six of us playing and only the winner didn't have to take a drink. But somehow, someway, Brad had taken it upon himself to single me out to pick on that night. Everyone else just settled their debts by chugging their losses with beer. Brad felt it necessary to goad me into doing shots of vile tequila.
"Lick, suck, bite," he said, and I did. The liquid hit the back of my throat and I immediately felt my insides wanting to come out through my nose. I got up from the kitchen table and walked toward the door leading to the back yard of Jen's house. We were celebrating a three-day weekend from school. It was a typical teenage party with about 20 of us seniors slaphappy with graduation fever. Only 32 school days left and we would be out of high school. Jen was one of those girls who were popular with everybody and it had been a long standing tradition to gather at her house to let our hair down and forget about life.
The local radio station was blaring some Friday night party mix in the background and I felt my head starting to spin as I walked into the back yard. That round of cards was not the first I had lost and I was surely feeling the effect of all the alcohol I was forced to drink. Well, not forced really. I would have drank that much anyway, but I would not have drank it that fast.
The night was pleasantly cool and I felt a bit better as I sat on the bench of the picnic table. My back was facing the house and I heard the screen door open and slam shut behind me. I saw the shadow approaching me and figured it was Brad. He slapped the back of my head and jumped on the table beside me. "How you feeling, Pussy," he asked. He was facing me while he sat on the table. I had my head resting on my folded arms and I turned my head and stared at his right thigh. My eyes naturally glanced at his crotch and then back down to his sneakers. I say naturally because I have been staring at crotches ever since I can remember, and I have been ogling Brad's crotch for the last year. Tonight was no different.
Brad pushed my shoulder and said, "Come on, Trev. You ain't that drunk."
"I'm getting there. Man, I can't take another drink. I'll be heaving."
Brad just chuckled and lay back onto the picnic table. I was still staring at his shoes but let my eyes wander up his legs and to his crotch. I loved watching the mound of his cock and balls. It seemed alive and always in motion. Brad caught me looking. He had had his hands behind his head staring into the sky. Now he was looking at me. He raised his head, sitting up on his elbows. I glanced once at his face and saw him smiling slightly. Quickly I looked away. Brad sat up, and in one swift movement, threw his leg over my bowing head and planted both feet on either side of me. Slowly I lifted my head from my folded arms and stared directly into the crotch of my best friend. Again, he leaned back onto his elbows but kept staring at me. Brad closed his knees against my shoulders tightly and asked, "What ya looking at, Trev?"
"Nothing."
"You are such a fucking liar. But I will let ya say you were drunk if ya just wanna suck it for me," he said.
"Fuck off, Brad," I said. "I ain't drunk and I ain't sucking your dick, Fag."
"Hey, I ain't the one staring at my dick. And by the way, you are still staring at my dick, Fag," he said, mocking me.
I was. He was hard too. His balls were bulging and I could see a huge tube of meat stretching across his left thigh. "Open my pants, Trev," Brad commanded.
"Fuck off, Brad."
"Come on, Trev. You been wanting to blow me. Nobody is gonna find out. It's right here." With that said, Brad slid his ass toward my face putting his bulge inches from me. Without thinking I leaned into his crotch, and placing my nose under his balls, inhaled the scent of jeans and boy. "Yeah," he said. "Nobody will know, Trev."
I couldn't help myself. Drunk or not, I completely wanted Brad in my mouth. It would have been easier to unzip him with my hands but, for whatever reason, I felt it necessary to use my teeth to force the zipper over his bulge. The metal teeth easily gave way as they opened along the path of his engorged cock. Brad grabbed the back of my head with both of his hands and pulled me into the opening of his pants. My nose was pushed between his cock and his thigh. Brad's cock smelled just as I thought it would, an intoxicating blend of soap, piss and Curve. I inhaled until I thought my lungs would explode.
He was wearing silk boxers and I could feel his skin through the fly of his shorts. I twisted my head and let my tongue slither into the opening of his boxers. Just then, I glanced at Brad's face. His head was slung back and his chest was heaving. "Hurry up. Put your mouth on it."
I looked behind me at the door and Brad said, "Nobody's coming out here. Just suck it." Brad pulled my head back between his legs and I resisted no more. My tongue managed to pull his cock free from the confines of his boxers. The huge dick rested against Brad's stomach. I let my tongue twist its way from the base of his cock to it's head and just then Brad grabbed my head and forced me to look at him as he cautioned, "Lick, suck, but don't bite."
I could hear him laughing to himself at his joke as he pushed my head into him. I opened my mouth and let his hardness fill my throat. I struggled against its mass at first but found that if I relaxed my throat, Brad's dick easily slid into me.
Brad started thrusting into my throat. I could hear the thumping of the music behind me as well as the dull drone of the party. Brad was apparently less worried about being caught than I was. Of course it probably had something to do with having his cock buried into a hot wet hole.
He continued humping my face, his hands gripping my hair. He was pulling me into him as much as he was pushing into me. My hands had found their way to his hips and I gripped them tightly. He continued pumping for what seemed like an eternity, and my throat became numb. I felt him grow larger and he pulled out of me, grabbing his dick with both hands.
I saw his first shot fly over my shoulder as he stroked wildly. As Brad continued fisting himself, I sucked both his nuts into my mouth and he bolted upright, moaning in pleasure. He continued pumping his cock into his fists and spurted four more shots of his juice onto his stomach.
Brad's nuts plopped out of my mouth and I licked my way up his cum trail, savoring his flavor with each puddle. He was breathing heavily as I cleaned the evidence from his chest.
"You missed a spot," he said. Brad guided my mouth to a stray glob of cum just above his right nipple. I slurped it onto my tongue and nibbled the rosy nip between my teeth. "Yeah," he said. "Lick, suck, bite."