Ken and I - Part 07
Despite the nervousness I was feeling in the pit of my stomach and the worry that I had ruined a good thing with Ken, my own steely erection had not subsided. I could still taste Ken in mouth and I didn't need to look to know that I was leaking obscenely into my own shorts.
Getting up off the floor, I sat next to Ken on the couch. The simple act of getting up, moving and sitting on the couch caused my dick to rub against the fabric of my increasingly wet underwear. I was afraid that if I shifted my position any further I'd fill my shorts with a heavy load of my teen cream.
I suddenly noticed that Ken was looking at me. "Having a little problem Martin?" he grinned.
Despite everything we'd experienced over the past couple of days I still felt myself blushing furiously. Ken just seemed to have that effect on me. My young mind was trying to process the feelings that were stirring inside of me; I was sure that if Ken knew that this was beginning to feel like more than just boyish fun between the two of us that he'd surely drop me as a friend. Or worse.
"Hellooo? Anyone in there?" Ken asked.
I realized that Ken had not only been looking at me, but speaking to me as well. I also realized that his hand was on my crotch, gently rubbing my dick through my shorts. My cock throbbed and I knew that if he added even the slightest pressure I'd erupt.
"Sorry, I..." I stammered. "I was just thinking."
"I bet I know what you were thinking about."
I nearly panicked; Ken had figured me out and this was it. But instead of calling me a fag and taking off, he slid off the couch and kneeled in front of me. A combination of fear and relief washed over me; I could scarcely believe that Ken was about to give me my first blow job. I could feel even more precum leak from my cock. Ken must've realized how on edge I was as he tried to avoid putting too much pressure on my dick as he opened and unzipped my shorts. I raised myself slightly off the couch so that Ken could pull my shorts down. As he did I could see the massive wet spot on the front of my underwear.
"If I didn't know better I'd have said you already blew your wad", Ken laughed.
"Trust me, you'll know when it blows" I moaned in reply.
Ken grin wickedly and his eyes sparkled up at me as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulled them up before sliding them down over my thighs, past my knees and leaving them laying around my ankles. Looking down I could see precum continuing to ooze from the head of my cock, seemingly witching with every beat of my heart.
Ken leaned forward and grabbed the base of my stiff shaft and pulled my cock up towards his mouth. The touch of his hand made me draw in my breath in a loud hiss. Ken's eyes darted between looking up at me and down at my 6.5" of hard boy meat. I could sense the debate in Ken's mind, knowing that if he did this it would push his own boundaries. Ken looked up at me one last time and his trademark grin spread across his face.
I cannot even begin to describe the feeling of Ken's warm wet tongue first tentative touch on my hard shaft. He slowly ran it up towards my almost painfully throbbing cockhead. I could hear and feel myself moaning uncontrollably hoping that it wasn't loud enough for my family to hear, but somehow not really caring either. This was simply too incredible to care about anything but what was happening right here, right now.
Ken's tongue reached the head of my cock, the tip of it running up my piss slit; I could feel the hot breath coming from Ken's mouth and finally I felt his warm lips on my cock. My cock bucked up, seeking to penetrate past his lips and into his mouth. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to make this last, I was far too horny and worked up.
I watched in fascination as the head of my young teen meat disappeared between Ken's lips. I could already feel a trembling low in my groin and the stiffening of my legs as an imminent orgasm was approaching. Ken's mouth came up off my cock and his tongue ran back along my piss slit and down to the very sensitive spot where the foreskin attached to the head.
"Ken. Ken." I groaned, "I'm É".
Unable to give Ken any further warning, one of the most intense orgasms of my albeit short sex life to date began to wash over me. I could feel my heart pounding and my breath coming in short ragged breaths. The tip of Ken's tongue continued to brush against my cock and he looked up at me.
"I É" I moaned loudly. My cock began to erupt in volley after volley of creamy teen spunk. I barely registered the look of surprise on Ken's face as my hot cum splattered across it. Ken sat back on his haunches as the jizz continued to flow freely from my still throbbing hard cock.
Looking down at Ken and seeing how I had coated his face made me giggle uncontrollably.
"Oh my god." I managed between breaths and laughs. A huge rope of my cum was hanging from the tip of his nose. I suddenly had another small panic attack. I had just creamed all over Ken's face.
"Shit. Shit. I'm sooo sorry. I tried to warn you, but."
Ken looked a mess. "Maybe you could give me something to clean this off," he said. As he spoke some of my spunk ran into his mouth. I'm not sure if he intended me to notice or not, but his tongue instinctively flicked out and tasted what it had been offered. There was a slightly odd look on his face, but I couldn't tell whether it was from the taste of my boy milk or whether it was just because the rest of his face was covered with it.
Reaching down the first thing I managed to grab was the shirt I had pulled off Ken's developing upper body. For some reason instead of handing it to him, I leaned forward and began to wipe my spunk from his face. Ken's clear blue eyes were locked on to me and I could feel the heat of my blood beginning to blush my cheeks. I also noticed that Ken seemed to be blushing slightly as well.
When I was done Ken took the shirt from my hands and held it up, "Great, more of my clothes covered in jizz. My mom's gonna wonder why there's never anything clean to wear in my drawers."
We looked at each other for a minute and then broke out into laughter.
"Oh my god, you should've seen your face." I said.
"I didn't need to see it, I could feel the mess." Ken said. "I barely touched you with my." Ken hesitated momentarily before whispering the remainder his sentence, "My tongue. I can't believe how quickly you went off. And how much you came. Holy shit! Fuck Martin, and all over my face."
We were no longer laughing at this point. Yet again my emotions shifted one-hundred eighty degrees, going from blissful pleasure to nervous panic. I was sure this was it. This was the thing that had taken our fun too far. Ken was having second thoughts about what we were doing. Now it was going to get awkward and our developing friendship would screech to a halt. Ken was no fag. I was the fag.
"Are you mad?" I whispered. "Please don't be mad. I promise I won't tell anyone." I was starting to babble and I could feel that any moment I was going to burst into tears. I couldn't read the look on Ken's face. And that worried me even more.
"Shut up." Ken's words cut through me. This was it.
I opened my mouth. I was going to babble some more. I was going to cry.
"Just shut up." Ken got up off the floor. I was having trouble focusing. Ken sat on my thighs, straddling me. He leaned forward, put his lips against mine and began kissing me. Not softly. Not gently. His kisses were hard and passionate. His tongue in my mouth, pushing against mine. His hands were gripping my shoulders holding me back against the couch. Not that I was going anywhere. The numbness of my panic attack was leaving me and I could feel my own arms wrap themselves around Ken's waist, pulling him tightly to me.
The intensity of our kissing made it feel as though hours had passed. Slowly Ken pulled his face from mine, still straddling my lap. His hands moved from my shoulders to either side of my head. His piercingly clear blue eyes also held me.
"Did that feel like I'm mad at you?" No grin. No laugh. "Stop thinking that you're the only one who's part of this. Stop thinking like you're talking me into something or making me do something I don't want."
I wanted to say something, but Ken continued. "I'm as confused about this as you are. And I have no idea what I'm feeling. Except that I'm feeling good. And I like that. And I like you."
That last part hung in the air between us. Did he just say that he likes me? Of all the things and scenarios that had run through my mind, this was unexpected. I hadn't expected Ken to tell me he likes me. As much fun as I'd been having this weekend, I had thought that when the it ended, so would our fun. We'd go back to school on Monday, both of us too embarrassed to mention it again, let alone repeat it.
"I like you." Ken repeated.