It's All About Cock
by Hartford
The grass was a factor. Bunch of guys in the lounge, in a circle, more like a rectangle, two joints passing in opposite directions. Lots of kidding, idiocy, boredom into which Alex says in his great voice, "Which one of us is most like a girl?"
The room quiets down. If anyone had else said it, it wouldn't have gone anywhere, but Alex said it and it holds the room. A few faces turn to me. I don't see faces turning to anyone else. A little coughing, guys looking more at Alex and Alex says, solemnly, "Johnny what's your opinion?"
Noises of the snicker variety, a few. I get the feeling that some guys are nervous, uneasy. I'm taken aback that Alex asked me, smart of him, putting me on the spot when I'm on the spot already. It lures a person, dares you to join the game, even on your own terms. I say in my fake girl's voice, "Definitely not you, Alex."
Laughs, but not from me and not from Alex who says, simply, "Then who, Johnny?"
"Well, I'm one possibility," I say in my own voice, thrilled by my dare. Who is this person?
"Let's see, Johnnie, can you giggle like a girl?", Alex says. Now it's really quiet.
"Do I have to, Alex?," Alex nods that I do have to. The guys are watching, not looking bored.
"I can't force a giggle, Alex. A giggle comes naturally to a person."
"You're right, Johnnie. You'll show us your natural giggle when the time comes. I like that. So show us this. Can you walk like a girl and can you wiggle, if you can't giggle?"
A feeling, recently discovered, was washing over me, the feeling you get from taking in the expressions of people studying you. I never used to notice it. I would be engrossed in sizing up people I saw, but whatever impact I might be making on those sizing up me sailed past my awareness. I don't know what changed it, but over the past month or so something had. I was attuned now as never before to the interested faces, and instead of this deepening my customary shyness, the shyness melted away. I had confidence and an attitude.
So, I walked like a girl, and I wiggled my bottom, I was wearing fairly tight jeans, and after I walked and wiggled, I talked like a girl, which I have a knack for, and that was a big hit. I got actual applause, which surprised and pleased me so much that I giggled. Alex took a vote on whether my giggle satisfied the requirement of being like a girl's. I'm proud to say my giggle matriculated but I would bet half the guys who voted didn't hear it in the general hubbub.
Anyway, ten minutes of kidding around and teasing and a tension is growing. It commands the room, and Alex says in his casual way,
"So, Johnnie, do you suck cock like a girl?"
How did I not know this was coming? I do know, and I'm ready.
"Well, I can't suck cock if I don't have lipstick on, Alex," I say, politely. I don't know how long getting a lipstick will take and it stuns me when I realize I don't want the obstacle I've given them to be overly difficult. But a red lipstick is produced, two in fact, and I could only laugh, or have a heart attack. Billy held a mirror for me he swiped from the rest room and I put on the lipstick while trying not to blank out like a witless girl.
"Put some lipstick on your nipples, Johnnie," Alex says. It sounds like an order.
"I have a shirt on Alex," I point out, a bit crossly.
"Take it off, honey," Alex says, sweetly.
I could do that, I tell myself.
I'm not sure what to think about "honey". I don't dislike it, and I like it better than being ordered, or do I? Oh, man, too much to think about. I take off my shirt and my tee shirt and instead of thinking about what is happening I experience guys staring at me, bare to the waist. I put lipstick on my nipples for their amusement or horniness or whatever. The joints, meanwhile, are going around with gusto but no one offers me a puff. I'm left out. How come? Don't they want the girl to get high? Are they afraid she'll bite their cocks?
"I think Johnnie's ready. Here, Johnnie." Alex had pushed a chair out and he was sitting in it, waiting. I looked around the room, a glance. I didn't want to look at anyone so our eyes would meet. I wanted to be anonymous so I acted as if I were, which probably made it more comfortable for most of them, as well, but not everyone. A few guys were brazen and did look me in the eye later on, if not then, and after a while I didn't mind it.
I felt a push on my shoulder, a soft push but a push. I didn't look back. A couple of guys could have done it. I got the hint. I took a step, one step, but the step pushed me, too, and the next thing I was going to Alex in the dim, blue light, with guys watching all around, guys breathing but not saying anything, just watching me go to Alex. Alex smiled at me like I was a honey. "Hi, Johnnie," he said.
"Hi Alex," I forgot to use my girl's voice but I was where a girl belonged, in front of him on my knees.
"Take it out, Johnnie," he said.
"Okay," I whispered. Alex had on chinos, with a loose lap that Alex's cock poled into a tent. "Did that for you, Johnnie," he said while I gaped. "Stand up, Johnnie, just for a minute. That's right. Now take off your pants, Johnnie and your underpants. We all want to see how pretty you are. Want to see your girl's ass."
I stripped out of the clothes. I posed like an actor in an amphitheater, while guys looked at me, saw my cock, saw my girl's ass which I made easier by turning for them, this way and that way, being a model more than an actor. It felt good doing it. Why not, I was more attractive than any of them, I had attractive legs and arms, attractive torso, attractive face, attractive cock, too, and in the soft light you saw my clear, warm skin, nary a blemish, nary a hair that didn't belong. Barnes said, loudly, "How about silk stockings, guys? I got some red ones," and Barnes held up the red silk stockings, and guys cheered and howled, and then Barnes brought them. "Here, Johnnie. That lipstick was from me, too," he said, and he said it with respect, and his whole manner was respectful, the way a guy is respectful toward a girl he would like to fuck. I liked it all right, but, I thought, do these guys realize I'm not a cocksucker by trade, do they know I never sucked a cock in my life, that I hardly ever even thought about sucking a cock. I said hardly ever.
"That's enough, Johnnie," Alex said.
He meant, "get on with sucking my cock!" I could see why. His cock had the tent up higher than before. Alex was in a needful way.
I get back on my knees. I put both hands on the stiffness, watching myself do it, wrapping the chino folds around it, looking for the fly latch, pulling it down in the stretched cloth, pulling hard to get it over the hardness pushing the other way, and down it slowly comes and the fly opens wide, showing Alex's white jockey shorts, all bulged by the cock. I look up for encouragement, and Alex smiles, showing me his patience and his appreciation, and I pout at him because he shouldn't have appreciated yet, he didn't have his cock sucked yet. Then he does. I extract the cock from his underpants and keep it in my right while I move my head and my opened mouth.
The cock glides between my lips, over my tongue, and I suck. My head bobbs like a girl's, except I don't have long curls to swirl or have fall over my face. I thought I didn't know how to suck cock but it comes easily, like I'm a natural, a cock sucking prodigy, and I'm finding this out only now when I'm twenty years old, so many lost years of cock loving behind me, alas. Hey, what about the years in front of me. I enter a kind of nirvana, the cock and me. I'm vaguely aware of being in a crowded space, of cameras, of guys saying things, of silences, and I'm keenly aware only of the cock. I need for it to cum, which it needs, and then it does, a hot explosion in my mouth, in my throat, one blast after the other, and I'm gulping it down but then my mouth pulls back because of all cum and no air, and the hot spurts hit my face, cum in my eyes, cum in my nostrils. Oh, man!
"Oh yeah," Alex said after awhile.
I smiled at him. I was ready for some appreciation now. I wiped my face with my undershirt.
"We're done," Alex said, hurting my feelings by the abruptness. But we were done, he was right, and fifteen guys were waiting to have their cocks sucked, if they all did. They all didn't. Guys were too embarrassed or disgusted or whatever, but six wanted it, and I sucked their cocks and made them cum, all six. They were guys I hardly knew, the first four, guys you would see around, maybe nod hello, names you might not remember, and they were easier than the last two guys who I did know, hanged around with sometimes when we were part of a larger group, guys you thought of as second tier friends. I sucked off Baylor first. His eyes were hard as his cock. He called me a faggot, sneered, insulted me, but his cock was hot for my mouth, no doubt about it. I sucked away, almost enjoying the taunts. Once, when he sniggered I gave his cock a long upward lick while I looked up at him with my wide, blue eyes. I made him cum.
In one night, one hour, I came from being no fag at all to being the biggest fag on campus.