Chapter 12
From Justin's viewpoint
I don't think I'd ever enjoyed giving anyone a blowjob as much as I'd enjoyed giving this one to Billy. It was easy for me to see how much he enjoyed it. I mean, his dick was rock solid hard like marble. He came gallons. I thought he might explode from all the sexual pressure built up in him.
Once he started cumming, I couldn't keep up. I couldn't begin to swallow it all. And believe me, I tried. At that point I was beginning to wonder if sex with this "straight" boy wasn't even more fun than it had been with the twins. But, no, Billy had limits and the twins didn't have any, at least not once I turned 18.
The more shit I did with . . . I guess I should say "shit I did to" . . . Billy, the harder it got for me to remember that he wasn't gay.
Anyway, after I'd finished blowing him, I collapsed on top of him. I was truly satisfied, although my hard cock drooling lots of pre-cum on my newest friend suggested I was also as sexually frustrated as I had been with Mike. Satisfied and frustrated at the same time. Talk about fucked!
But things were about to change for me. As I lay on top of Billy, I could tell his mind was working overtime. He wasn't moving and he wasn't sleeping. His eyes were closed, but the expression on his face said he was wide-awake.
Without warning, he wrapped his powerful arms around me and held me tight. In my mind I could clearly see his biceps flexing as he held me close and safe and warm against him - my chest to his chest; my cock to his cock. Then he gently rolled the two of us over. Now he was on top.
Billy raised himself, one knee on either side of me. His ass planted directly on my aching, swollen nine-inch hard-on. I wanted to fuck him so bad.
Instead, Billy scooted lower on my legs so that when he looked down he could clearly see my need - my twitching cock drooling clear drops of pre-jizz. He was hard, too. But not as hard as I was. I could see him surveying my body. At that moment I was so glad that I kept myself in shape. I wanted him to appreciate it, to want it. Hell, I wanted him to need my body. I so needed for someone to want and need my body for a change.
I couldn't figure out what he was up to. He must have seen the look of confusion - and lust - on my face. "Just lay back and relax," he said gently. I was only too happy to follow his directions.
He leaned back and started to stroke his cock. I was really surprised because he had just cum big time in my mouth. But he was definitely stroking his beautiful cock - not mine, damn it.
"How close are you to cumming," he asked in a quiet, gentle voice.
"It wouldn't take much," I said truthfully. I was so horny, he could have gotten me off with a wink. "It wouldn't take much at all." Instinctively I reach up to take over stroking his meat, but he shook his head no and picked up the pace. He only stopped to scoop up some of his own cum and my pre-cum from around my pubes to lube himself up even more.
I was amazed at how fast his cock had reached its full length. I could see that the skin on his cockhead was taught and shiny as it expanded to its maximum size. And you can believe me when I say I had already become quite aware of what Billy looked like fully aroused, rock hard, engorged and ready to pop.
"I think we're getting close," Billy said. I thought he meant he was getting close. But I soon discovered just what he meant.
Only moments later Billy came again. It was a gusher. His cum rolled down over his knuckles and onto his balls. He pushed his rigid cock down. Now the cum fell from his cock tip directly onto to my raging hard-on. I thought the first load of his cum to hit my hot dick was going to be all it took to get my jizz shooting. But I was enjoying the show Billy was putting on and didn't want it to end yet.
As Billy's cum slowed, he took his hand off his dick. Scooped up cum from his balls. Added it to the copious amount of cum he had just shot on my nine-inch cock. Wrapped his cum slickened palm around my meat and started to slowly stroke me.
It didn't take any time at all for me to be gasping for breath. To feel my nuts pull up tight. To . . . Oh, what was this. Billy had moved his hand up my cock to hold my cockhead in his palm and was now just barely vibrating his hand up and down. His other hand took hold of my cock shaft and started sliding up and down its length. What a beautiful sight. This hot jock I had lusted after. His hard trim swimmer's body. Those tight abs. His entire attention - both hands - focused on my hard cock.
"Oh shit!" was all I could say and I let loose so much cum even I was stunned. In my hair, my face, over my head, all over my chest and so much more. Volley after volley of warm creamy cum. And Billy grinning down at me like he'd just conjured the genie out of the bottle.
He started to lean back as he released my cock from his two-fisted grip.
"Please, just hold me for a minute," I begged. And he willingly complied.
A few minutes later, he let go of my cock, still warm and full in his hands, but no longer hard. He reached out with one hand and gathered some of our mingled cum on his fingers. Tentatively he tasted it. He smiled and took a larger serving onto his tongue.
"Do you like it?" I asked.
"It's not too bad," he said. "Not too fucking bad."
We awoke intertwined on my bed, probably an hour or so later. Billy had his flaccid cock pressed against my butt. His head close at my neck. I could feel his breath. I knew he was awake, too.
"Hi," I said.
He didn't say anything.
"Are you OK?" I asked.
No reply.
I rolled over to look at him. He looked a little sad.
"Are you sorry you helped me get off?" I asked, trying to put the question as gently as I could.
"No," he said. "I just wonder what it means."
We ended up talking for hours about Billy's sexuality, Jess' coming out, my own experiences and lack of experiences. Billy seemed to relax as we talked. When we were done and he was getting ready to go, I didn't have any doubt he was sexually curious, but I was also pretty sure he wasn't gay. Maybe bi, I thought hopefully.
But as we had been talking, what he kept coming back to was how "jealous" - that was he word he kept using - how jealous he was of me for being so completely at ease with sex, at ease with being gay, at ease with being with other guys.
"I bet you'd be just as comfortable getting jacked off by a girl as you were by me. Wouldn't you?" he asked.
"Probably. Sex is just sex. A hand. A cock. And then cum. It doesn't really mean anything. It just feels so good when you're with somebody who does it well - like you just did. And . . . it helps if you're with someone . . . with someone you really like," I said hesitantly.
"So you really don't think this means I'm gay, or bi, or whatever?" he asked.
"It means two things, as far as I can tell. One, it means you like to get your rocks off, which means you're a healthy 18-year-old jock with raging hormones and not getting near enough variety in your sex life." I gave him a big smile and he smiled back.
"And the second thing?" he asked.
"You're a hell of a nice guy and I'd like to think you're a hell of a good friend. I unloaded all that baggage on you about me and Mike, woe is me and all that shit. Instead of blowing it off, you listened and I think you cared how I felt."
I paused and stared into is eyes. He slowly nodded his head in agreement.
"All this means is that you're not a jerk like so many other guys," I said.
"You mean guys like Mike?"
"Yeah, guys like Mike. I wouldn't have ever guessed it a week or so ago, but you and Jess really are different. I can see that so clearly now. You each care so much what the other one is thinking and feeling. You're willing to leave your own comfort zone to make the other one feel better. And just this afternoon, you did the same thing for me. I hope this means we're friends. It doesn't have to mean anything more. And I don't think it does. But it makes me believe that you and Jess are going to make it just fine. You're not going to have a life of hot boy-on-boy sex . . . too bad for you . . . but I think you'll be best of friends with Jess for a long, long time."
I don't usually get preachy like that, but I was just saying what I felt and the words flowed. When I was done, I really wanted to do something for Billy. And I had an idea.
"You know, we never refilled your old jeans," I said.
"I don't know that I'm up to dropping another load just now," Billy said.
"Then let me go first."
I retrieved the old jeans I'd worn to the swim meet earlier that day and pulled them on, getting hard even as the fabric first touched my cock and balls. I snapped them at the waist but left the fly open so the fabric could slide more easily against my hot cock.
"What do you want me to do?" Billy asked.
"Just watch and relax. You don't need to do a thing. You've done more than enough already."
With my mind fueled by images of Billy from earlier this afternoon, I worked my cock back and forth against the fabric. The underside of my sensitive cockhead repeatedly brushing against the inside of the crotch. it didn't take me too long to get my dick worked into a sexual frenzy again. Rubbing my hard cock through the cum-caked denim of Billy's jean, I once again felt the familiar pressure build. The urge to get off. The need to release the juices trapped inside. And soon I did. My cum spurted half a dozen times, much of it penetrating the faded blue fabric of these old jeans. Globs of my hot cum seeping through. The rest pooling in a warm, sticky puddle inside around my balls.
I'd been so caught up in my own pleasure, I hadn't realized at first that Billy was jacking his cock, too. Only a second or two after I had made my contribution to his old jeans, he grabbed the waistband where it buttoned and pulled it . . . and me . . . to him. Then he reached down, pushed the fly open and quite smoothly inserted his hard eight-inch cock inside. He rubbed his hard, hot cock against my cum-covered cock. His throbbing meat probed into my soaked pubes. His dick pressed its heat against me. It was so unbelievably sexy. The cum lubed us as our cocks jousted in the hot confinement of the jeans. Two cocks working away in all that cum.
I moved in concert with Billy's thrusts, until he put his hands on my ass and held me firmly against him. Both of us remained motionless for just seconds. He tensed and then he started to groan. I felt his massive cock swelling even bigger as it pressed up against my cock. I ground my cock against his as hard as I could. I swear I could feel his whole body heating up. And then I felt him cum. His warm, creamy juices flowing into the overcrowded crotch. And now we both were rocking to and fro. Letting our cocks slide together. It was like French kissing with a mouth full of cum. Only with our dicks. In these incredible old jeans of his. It was heavenly.
When the final surges of pleasure had faded, Billy eased his dick out of the crotch and said, "I think I'll wear those to sleep in tonight, if you don't mind. I'll bring them back and refill them for you soon."
That bargain agreed to, I carefully slipped those cum-soaked jeans down my hips and legs and handed them to Billy. Our mingled cum was running down the insides of my legs as I watched Billy.
He held up the jeans and snapped them closed at the waist. He put a hand in each of the front pockets. He brought the jeans to his face, inhaled and then started lapping globs of our cum from the crotch. I soon nuzzled in beside him and sucked up our cum as well, our tongues touching each other in a duel to gather more of our warm nectar. After we'd had our fill, Billy turned toward me and kissed me deep. Our faces smeared in cum. The aroma our fresh pumped juices still surrounding us as Billy kept the soaked crotch close to our faces. The kiss seemed to complete the cycle of our afternoon.
Billy broke the kiss at last and licked a bit of cum from my earlobe. I took in a deep breath, enraptured by the moment.
"Thanks," I said.
"Your welcome," Billy said. We both were smiling broadly as we stood there naked and thoroughly spent.
With that, Billy put on the jeans, his shirt and finally his shoes and headed out. His face still glazed with our cum.
I collapsed on my bed wondering . . . wondering . . . was it possible . . . could I be in love.
To Be Continued . . .
AUTHOR"S NOTE: The names and some other identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the identities of the characters described. The copyright for this story is held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere without the permission of the author. I would love to receive comments on this story from readers at hardreader2000@aol.com