Reply-To: an59279@anon.penet.fi
Hi gang. This is another in the fraternity house series. This story, as are the others, is true. This episode happened about six weeks ago. It comes in two parts because a friend insisted I get in all the details about the whole night.
Again, I really want feedback! I enjoyed hearing from everyone last time. Please mail me with your comments, and don't worry 'cause the anon server will protect your identity. Let me know what you think!
Mr. Vain
Now that I'm a senior and have an apartment off campus, I don't spend a whole lot of time over by the frat house these days. I'd rather go to the bars than watch all the screeching little bimbos with the big hair get too drunk in the hopes that guys will pick them up and screw them. Personally I can't stand girls who will do anything to get laid. I also don't like the music I usually hear. "All I wanna do is zooma-zoom zoom zoom and a boom boom! JUST SHAKE YOUR BUTT!" They never play any good techno, just the cheesy stuff. So I tend to avoid the frat parties.
One recent Saturday, I made plans to go to the bars with a brother who happens to live in the house. I went over there to pick him up, and there was a party going on, which was not unusual for a Saturday. I started scouring the house looking for him, and my fears were realized when I saw him on the dance floor, dancing very close with some girl who looked no more than 17. God dammit, he was going to be scamming on her all night, and now I was stuck here.
I looked around. It seemed like everyone was drinking Keystone and Old Mil Light. Hell, you walk around with a case of Miller Lite and people think you're extravagant. I subscribe to the adage "Life's too short to drink cheap beer," so I bring a couple sixes of Harp if I'm going to party at the house. People who don't know me probably think I'm European. I gotta get out of this town.
I decided to make the best of it, and went in search of my little brother Jimmy. He was upstairs, and I persuaded him to let me have at the Tanqueray and Tonic that I knew was in his fridge. I had given it to him for his birthday, but he had puked before he could get around to drinking it.
After a couple of high-octane Tanq&tonics, I was beginning to loosen up. Jimmy was sloppy drunk by this point and stumbling around like the idiot sophomore he is, screaming about something to the throng of people in the hall. I smiled, poured myself a third drink, and started wandering around the house again.
OK, so I lied. I don't mind frat parties that much...because I love to watch the frat boys dance. The guys in my house have the hottest collection of asses I've ever seen, and I could stare at them thrusting and bouncing for hours.
Naturally I found myself in the basement where all the dancing was going on. I parked against the wall and just watched. By some chance they were playing music I liked. "Strange love...strange highs and strange lows... strange love...that's how my love goes." I saw a group of my frat brothers dancing in a tight circle, with no chicks. This was not uncommon in our house, because the guys are so cocky, they know that they don't have to pay attention to the chicks until the night is almost over. Most of the guys are so hot that they can pretty much walk right up to girls and just take them to their rooms. I shit you not, this happens every time we have a party. Stupid bimbos come to get laid, and they come to the right place.
I stood there and watched this group of hot young guys. Chad, Bill, Corey, and Chris. Dancing and sweating in their Hilfigger shirts and Guess jean shorts. I was concentrating on Corey for the most part; he has the hottest legs and the nicest ass, not to mention he's the most cock-sure. I think whoever came up with that term must have had Corey in mind.
"I give in...again and again...I give in...will you give it to me?"
Corey is about 5'7". I don't know why there are so many short guys in my house, but they make up the majority. They are also hot, with only a couple of exceptions. As I've said before, they're rich, hot, cocky little bastards, and they are in the habit of making my balls ache with desire.
Corey has super-short cropped hair on the sides and back, longer on top. His build is on the stocky side, but there's not an ounce of fat on him. Tonight he was wearing an oversized BUM t-shirt and Silver Tab jean shorts. He wore an extra long belt and hung the surplus down alongside his zipper in a phallic manner. I love when guys do that. His ass is firm--I know these things--and sticks out nicely. His legs are thick and muscular like a bicyclist's, though he got that way from Mother Nature and years of tennis. His face is young looking, with long, thick eyelashes and beautiful dark blue eyes.
He looked over at me. A few years ago, I would have looked down and away quickly...but this time I just smiled and raised my drink to him. He raised his hand in a what's-up gesture, and went on dancing.
Wow. Look at that motherfucker dance, I thought. Why do short people dance better? Look at him, out there, confident as a Doberman, hot as a 90210 stand-in, dancing without a second thought to anything. Seeing sheer confidence in a guy always quickens my pulse. Man, I love cocky guys.
The DJ managed to pull off some spectacular mixes. The song that came on, well, I would have sworn they wrote it for Corey. "I know what I want, and I want it now...I want you, cause I'm Mister Vain." Mr. Vain, that's Corey. The little shit can take home just about anyone he wants, he's that hot. I used to hate that song, but suddenly it began to take on a little extra meaning.
I just leaned against the wall and stared. He had his eyes closed now, and his face was glowing with sweat as he moved under the red bulbs and strobe. The music thumped, and Corey's body followed the beat effortlessly. I glanced down at his thick legs and watched them tense and relax in time to the song. What I wouldn't give to wake up next to this guy...!
After a bit, Jimmy stumbled up to me and started talking. When I looked over a few minutes later Corey et al had gone. I scanned the room for him while trying to pay attention to Jimmy, but he had gone upstairs. Probably to the bathroom. Jimmy poured the rest of his drink into mine; I had mixed it way too strong for him and he was nearing critical stage. Heh. What a lightweight. I guess I shouldn't laugh; by this point I was getting pretty tipsy myself. I went upstairs, poured another stiff one and set out to find Corey.
He was in the second bathroom I went in. He had already pissed and was checking himself out in the mirror. If I looked like him, I'd be check- ing myself out too. He was an awesome sight; his face was dark and flushed, though he had toweled off the sweat. His traps and delts were perfectly visible under the t-shirt. There was a vein pulsing on the side of his neck. I imagined how hot his skin must be.
"Hey, Corey," I said in greeting.
"Hey, what's up?" he said with that half smile. His teeth dazzled. Man, either someone put something in my drink, or this guy was rocking my world with his looks.
"Not much, man. Saw you bustin it up on the dance floor! Dude, you were goin nuts!" This was said in the tone of a remark rather than a compliment. We frat boys probably invented the standard moron college guy vernacular.
"Yeah," he said sheepishly.
"Where's your girlfriend?" I asked hopefully, hoping of course that she wasn't around. I had given up trying to remember the names of all the little sluts that came around the house like bitches in heat. His chick was no exception.
"Broke up a couple weeks ago," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh yeah?" I said, in a tone that was really asking if she had dumped him cold and left him crying in the rain.
"Uh huh. It's OK," he said, turning to me. Bitches come and go. Small potatoes.
So much for the "ho". She was choice, all right, but Corey's too hot to stay with one chick for any length of time. I smiled to myself: There juuuuuust might be an opportunity here. Keep your eyes open, is my policy. With these frat boys you never know. I glanced in the mirror. Lookin' good, I thought, at least I got THAT going for me.
"Oh yeh? Who you scammin' on tonight?" I asked, looking back at him.
"Ah, there's this tri delt downstairs I wanna get on."
God DAMMIT! I took another hit of drink. I really wanted to work on Corey all night. Even if nothing happened, it would still be decent beat-off material. Now I was faced with just hanging around, getting even hornier, waiting to see if Brad would show up so we could go back to my place where he'd shoot his cheapie and bolt like usual. More than likely I wouldnt even get that.
After a little more banter, Corey walked out. I took a piss, then swaggered up to Jimmy's room for a refill of Tanq&tonic. I looked at the bottle. Had I really drank that much? No WAY am I driving home tonight, I thought. I'll crash on the couch or something. I poured myself a strong one and stumbled back down through the house. Fuck Brad. He could find himself another j/o buddy. He's got a small dick, anyway.
I decided to forget the whole thing and just hang out and talk to some of the guys. I had a decent time. A couple hours later, I went downstairs. By this point it was getting late, and many of the people had left. The music had calmed and the strobe had been turned off. Now it was just couples dancing under red lights to "Set adrift on memory bliss" or whatever the hell the PM Dawn song is called. I scanned the room and spotted Corey, dancing close with the little whore. Yep, she wanted it, all right. God dammit.
Next to me were a group of girls who were agitated about something. No big surprise, they weren't about to get laid judging from the looks of them. I realized that they were waiting around for something and they wanted to leave. I tried to listen to what they were saying, and figured out that they had a friend there who WAS about to get laid, but they weren't going to leave without her. Stupid bitches. They're so mean they can't let their friends get laid if THEY'RE not getting laid. The ugly chick in the group always ruins it for the hot chicks, and subsequently ruins it for the guys who want to fuck the hot chicks. You guys in fraternities know what I'm talking about.
I watched with mild interest, which peaked when the song ended, the lights came up and the ugliest chick in the bunch walked straight up to Corey's bimbo and grabbed her by the arm. "We're leaving," she said. The slut started to protest, and held on to Corey's hand, but the other girls came to enforce the demand. They literally pushed her out of the room and up the stairs. She had time to look back and say "I'm sorry" to Corey, who just stood there open-mouthed, watching his score being taken away from him. As they went past me, she was making some noise about wanting to give him her phone number, but the bitches would not allow it, which was fine because Corey probably didn't want it anyway, knowing him. I chuckled in amusement and disgust, then looked at Corey. He was just standing there, visibly pissed.
The situation had done an about-face for the better, just like that. There was a play to be made here. Straight guys aren't all that difficult to seduce, when they're horny and they have a few beers in them. I walked up to him, with gears turning in my mind and a commiserating smile on my face.
"Fuck," he said, in the same tone you would hear from someone who lost a game of pool they should have won. I nodded my head; Corey deserved to get laid. He had scored that bimbo, and she was right- fully his.
"Stupid bitches," I said honestly. Well, they are.
"Cunts!" he said loud enough to make some other girls turn and look. I chuckled and finished off my drink. Then I reached down and grabbed two Keystone Light cans out of an abandoned 12 pack. He saw the effort it took to keep my balance and asked how much I had drank.
"Well I'm not driving home, that's for sure," I said with a laugh. That was what he was concerned about, and he smiled a bit in relief. Of course he was every bit a drunk as I was. "Mind if I crash on your couch?" I asked.
Now, who's going to deny that simple favor? "Naw, not at all," he said, a little dejectedly because I reminded him that he wasn't going to be getting laid. Or so he thought, anyway.
Forget the crap about not drinking cheap beer--I had to establish some comradeship. I handed him a can and said, "I bet you could use a cool one," imitating Cousin Eddie in "Vacation."
"Now yer talkin'," he said, picking up on my reference. Guys always warm up to movie lines from Vacation, Fletch, and Caddyshack.
After about an hour we wound up in his room watching TV. We had both stripped down to our boxers, and I sat there enjoying the view awhile until he said, "Man, I hate those fucking cunts. Why do they have to ruin it for their friends just because they're not getting laid?" We talked about that for a while, and other chick-related things, and I kept bringing the conversation back to sex. Corey was still really horny so it wasn't a problem. I kept talking to him because at least it gave me the excuse to look at his body. Wow. What a stud.
"FUCK!" he kept saying, every time he thought about how close he was to nailing that slut. I decided to move forward.
"Ah ha, whats-a-matter, can't get laid? Probably woulda been your first time in months, and you lost her!" I said with a sneer.
"Fuck you, where's your chick, ya fuckin' homo?" he snapped back. I glanced at him quickly, reacting to the word "homo." and decided he was probably just throwing shit back at me. He wasn't pissed at me, he was pissed about the situation. I kept at it.
"It's alright, you probably woulda just wound up beatin' off anyway," I said. Corey didn't like this. He's one of those guys that if he doesn't want to do something (e.g. drink a shot), all you have to do is call him a pussy and he'll do it. He's hot and confident, okay, but not too bright.
"Fuck you, you asshole!" he said, still with that half-smile.
"Ah ha ha," I said.
He smacked me lightly on the head. I punched him on the thigh (noting the thud my hand made against the solid muscle mass). He immediately pushed me over, and quick as lightning wrestled me to the floor. I love play wrestling with hot guys, and didn't give up too easily, but I couldn't have won even if I'd wanted to, which I didn't.
It took, I'd say, thirty delicious seconds for him to wrestle me onto my back and pin my hands and legs. The kid knew what he was doing, I'll say that much. He laughed as a realization hit him: "You know, I could do anything to you right now. Think about it. ANYTHING." I am not making this up, I swear to God. He wasn't saying this sexually; he was just marveling at the thought. I knew it, too; there was nothing I could do to get out from under him.
It was one of the most exciting moments of my life. My heart, which was thumping already from the activity, made every effort to leap out of my chest. I panted heavily, and of course my half-hard-on had jumped to full throttle.
I struggled a little under his grip, just to keep him on top of me. He was panting, breathing directly on my face from about a foot away. He smiled. He was all I could see, feel, hear and taste. My cock was literally aching, it was so hard, but for the time being Corey did not notice it.
"Oh yeah?" I panted, and looked him straight in the eyes.
"Yeah," he said, looking me back. Now he knew what I was thinking. Most of the guys in the house know about my preference, but they don't fuck with me about it because I'm pretty hot, I handle myself with class, and I'm smarter than they are. Corey glanced at the door, which was shut and locked, and looked back at me.
"Like what?" I asked.
His eyes blazed. "Anything. Anything I want."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
I struggled again, more briefly this time, and he again tightened his grip. He was in charge.
"What are you doing? You ain't goin' anywhere."
"Fuck you," I said, just to let him know that I knew he was right.
He liked this. "You gonna give me shit now? Huh?"
"Can't get laid...pussy," I managed. If I'd backed down he would have let me up, and that would have been the end of it. Trust me, I know what I'm doing when it comes to these guys.
I had pushed the right button. He squeezed my wrists even tighter, and wrapped his legs around and under mine, then stretched my whole body lengthwise in some killer deathgrip hold. It hurt like a bitch, and then he thumped his chest onto mine and about knocked the wind out of me. "Oof!" I said loudly.
"There. NOW ya got any more shit for me? HUH?" he said, adding a bit more pressure to the deathgrip for emphasis.
I was delirious. I was in pain. I was being pinned down by one of the hottest guys I knew, whose face was about three inches from mine. My cock, which had been painful before, was now in sheer agony. What's more, his body was pressed directly down on top of mine, and there was no way in hell he couldn't have felt my stiff rod pressing into his abdomen. He wasn't hard, but I felt a lot of warmth down there that wasn't my own. He was enjoying this, I could tell. He sneered at me.
"Fuck...you," I moaned, barely audible.
That was it. He turned up the deathgrip all the way, grunting with the exertion, and pushed his chest down harder on me. I thought he was going to tear me in half. My back cracked.
"Okay-okay-OKAY," I said quickly, and he eased up a bit. As my head swirled, I realized that he was really getting off on this power trip, and his cock had swelled to a fair size. It wasn't hard, but it was definitely there. My own prick continued to rage against his belly; I wished it would slip out of the fly in my boxers and rub against his skin. We stayed there for a few seconds, while I caught my breath. He now had about a three quarters hard-on; I could feel it against my hip.
Only one thing could make this scene more perfect, and I knew it was coming. Say it, Corey. Come on, say it...please say it...
He looked me straight in the eyes. "You like this, don't you?"
My mind reeled. My limbs were shaking, my breath was hitched, and my heart was absolutely pounding against his chest. I could no sooner speak than move.
"Huh? Is this what you like?" he asked again, and began slowly thrusting his hips, softly grinding his cock over mine.
When he started that motion I hitched in a breath and my muscles tightened. My eyes were totally dry because I couldn't even blink under his gaze, and my mouth was equally dry from hanging half open in total awe of the control he had over me. Say it, Corey, say it right this time.
"You LIKE thaaaaat," he told me.
That was it. I started grinding my hips back into him, as best I could since my motion was restricted by his hold on me. I knew he wasn't really interested in having sex with me; he was just getting off on the power he held over me, and he was just teasing me. But there was simply nothing I could do; I wasn't even in control of my own actions any more. And he knew it.
He stopped and just stayed there as I continued to pump my cock against him. Fortunately my hungry dick found the opening in the front of my boxers and after a few thrusts made its way out. Now Corey's cock was pretty much all the way hard, and the only thing between mine and his was the cloth of his boxers. He's about the same length as me, about 5 1/2 inches, but much thicker than average. Thick enough to be REALLY arrogant.
I was so completely lost in the feeling of my prick rubbing against his thick pole that I actually asked myself if this was really happening. Who gives a shit, I quickly thought, and worried about it no more.
Corey was smiling wryly through all this. He wasn't worked up, he was just really enjoying the sight of me so totally engrossed in what was going on. It was driving me nuts. I began to thrust my hips more insistently.
He leaned forward until his mouth was right beside my ear and whispered, "Yeah...you like that."
There was no way I could have stopped it. The orgasm was upon me and my cock erupted before I even knew it was going to happen. No warning, just a quick spasm between my legs and jets of come were shooting out. It was the only time I've ever come from just dry-humping, but it still ranks among the best sexual experiences of my life.
I was mostly done when he realized that I had spooged on his stomach and boxers. He let go of his grip on me and straightened up to a kneeling position, to survey the mess. There was a lot of cum, mostly on me, but some on his stomach and boxers. I was spent, and I slid out from under him and sat up against the couch, staring at that magnificent tanned body and tented-up boxers with my jizz on them.
"Aww, man!" he said in surprise and disgust, upon seeing the come on himself. Obviously he had not expected this to happen. I chuckled out loud at his reaction. I just couldn't believe that he wasn't gay-- after all, I had just been through a tremendous sexual explosion, and he was bitching about a little cum on his boxers. Still smiling weakly, I looked at his face and saw that I was right. He wasn't gay. It had just been a game to him that went a little farther than he thought it would.
He looked up sharply and glared at me. "You think it's funny? You think it's fuckin' funny?!" I had completely forgotten that he was still in power-dominance mode. I stopped smiling. I didn't want to play this game any more. I was at that post-orgasm point where you just want to wipe off the come, get dressed, and get the hell out of there. Corey was hot, true, but nevertheless I just wanted to leave.
Nothing doing. He quickly straddled me, still in the kneeling position, and said "Lick it off!" He was pissed. His face was red, as much because he was embarrassed about what had happened as anything.
With my back against the couch, there was no where I could go. He pushed ce. There was a blob of cum that hit my nose, lips and chin. It was cold and sticky, and I didn't like it. I didn't want it on me, much less in my mouth, so I tried to turn my head to the side. Before I could he grabbed my head with both hands and turned it straight, then mashed my face back into his abdomen. His hardon showed no signs of abating.
"Lick it off, I said," he commanded, not so loudly but with a squeeze to my head to make the point.
I stuck my tongue out. It hit just above the waistband of his boxers, right in a spot of cum. Normally I like the taste, but not just after I've finished off. My tongue tried to retract but I forced it to lick the jizz and bring it into my mouth. I didn't want to swallow it, so I just held toward the back of my tongue.
"Come on, do it!" he ordered. I began licking the cum from his tummy and boxers, and soon found that my mouth was almost full of spooge and saliva. His grip on my head had loosened, and I moved to lean over so I could spit. He grabbed my hair and barked, "I didn't say you could move!" He was really serious--making me pay for embarrassing him.
I thought of the several times I've forced guys to swallow my cum. Oh well, what comes around goes around, I thought, and swallowed it. Yuk.
I wanted to get this over with, so I continued to lick him clean, more fervently this time. And after a minute or so, it happened: I became aware of the heat of his body, and the muscles in his stomach, and his treasure trail, and his fairly stiff prick there in his shorts. I started licking more passionately and soon found I was sticking my tongue all the way out. The sexual machinery inside me had switched back on in record time. I completely and totally cleaned off his stomach, and gave it a number of extra licks for good measure, then started going at his boxers.
I licked up all the remaining cum, and just began licking up and down the shaft straining against the cotton. I could tell Corey liked it by the way his hands eased the pressure on my head ever so slightly.
I began using my tongue to maneuver the shorts around so his dick would be accessible through the fly. It didn't take long, and soon my tongue was licking up and down the shaft. A few seconds later and the head was poking out at me. Wow was this thing thick. I kissed the head a little, then licked all around it. Corey was breathing more heavily now.
I reached around and put my hands on his hamstrings, and slid them slowly up inside the boxers to his tight, firm ass. Bang! My cock was now at full attention and then some. It hurt again, as before.
Corey sighed appreciatively as I worked harder on his prick. I still hadn't taken him into my mouth; there was something to attend to first. Slowly, carefully, I worked his boxers down to mid-thigh, all the while paying very close attention to his cock.
When his shorts were out of the way, I grabbed his ass, kissed the head of his prick and then opened wide. He flexed his strong buttocks and pushed his member into my mouth. The angle I was at combined with its size kept it from going in more than a few inches. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to throat him, but it wouldn't be for lack of trying. Fortunately it wasn't as hard as mine was.
"Yeah," he whispered, and tightened his hold on my head. "Oh yeah. Suck my cock. Yeah." I glanced over to the mirror, and saw him staring down at me. I also saw myself blowing him, my hands on his ass, his thick pole in my mouth. After a second he straightened my head again and began pumping more insistently.
"Oh yeah. Oh yeah." A quick glance upward revealed that he was no longer looking at me, and probably wasn't thinking about me any more either. I caressed his ass as it pumped away, and tried to open my mouth as wide as possible for him. I wanted to beat off but couldn't make my hand let go of his butt.
Pretty soon he grabbed the back of my head and started really going at it. Any second now, it was going to happen. He had stopped panting and was pretty much holding his breath, just breathing in the tiniest breaths. Then I felt his involuntary thrust as the first shot of cum jetted from his cock. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" he said in loud, harsh whispers. We struggled for a few seconds, as he was trying to jam his prick all the way inside my mouth and down my throat, and I was trying desperately to keep from choking to death. It didn't last long, though, and soon he had eased off and was allowing my mouth to fill up with his semen.
His cum was HOT. It honestly burned my mouth and tongue, not by actual heat, but in the same way spicy food burns your mouth. It didn't taste anything at all like my own jizz, which tastes pretty much like everyone else's. Corey's was strong and commanding, unlike any other in my past. Well that's not exactly true--there was this guy freshman year--but it was unusual. I kept it in my mouth for a few seconds after he pulled his cock out, then swallowed it, relishing the way it burned my throat on its way down. It was still burning a little the next morning.
Corey pulled his shorts up quickly, and without a word walked over to his bed and got in. I knew he must be feeling really embarrassed and guilty...we all know that feeling. He covered himself up all the way to his head and turned toward the wall. He probably couldn't believe what we had just done.
A few years ago I learned the hard way that if you want to stay friends with a guy, you didn't try to push any talk on him right after having sex with him. You just let him sulk and feel guilty. Above all DON'T try to continue sex just after he comes. If you have to, relieve yourself, but don't try to get him in on it.
I turned off the light, then laid down on the couch and tried to watch the TV, which was still on. But my cock was still raging and my mouth still burned with the taste of Corey's hot jizz. I muted the TV and just laid there, staring at Corey's form under the covers.
He had fallen asleep right away, and his breathing had become deeper and louder. After maybe 10 minutes he rolled over onto his back. I watched him for a while, and finally decided that I was just too pumped up to let the opportunity pass.
I quietly rolled off the couch and crawled over to his bed. Watching and listening very carefully, I slid my left hand under the covers until the knuckles were pressed lightly against his warm hip. With my right I freed my stiff cock through the fly of my boxers, and began waxing it slowly.
I began moving my hand upwards around Corey's hip, enjoying it but listening to his breathing for any sign that he might wake up. Nope, he was really crashed out.
My hand moved forward till it was right over his dick. He still didn't move or anything, even when I pressed down on it. I felt the thickness of his warm prick and that sent a little shudder through my body. The pumping action of my right picked up a little.
After deciding that he wasn't going to wake up too easily, I dig around and lifted his cock out of his fly. It was still a little wet. I just held it for a while, with my eyes closed. That was a no-no, closing my eyes, but I was too drunk and excited to care. If he'd woken up he would probably have beat the shit out of me.
I really wanted to slip back his covers and suck him again, but discretion held off that idea. I was getting overly agitated, though, and I knew that if I didn't come soon then I'd throw caution to the wind and try to blow him.
Fortunately one of Corey's gym socks was right there on the floor. With my other hand still around Corey's dick, I picked up the sock and slid it over my rod, trying not to move around too much. It felt great. The first time I had masturbated into a sock was in high school, after swimming class when all the boys were naked in the shower. I remember I looked quickly from one cock to the other to the other, realized there was no way to fight the oncoming erection, so I hastily got out of the shower and dried off, then made it back to the locker area before anyone else, which was good because my dick was at about 110%. I slipped a sock over it and pumped it about five times before blowing my load, and had
jeans pulled up just before someone came around the corner. That was a close call.
This time I was holding Corey's dick in my other hand, something I thought I'd never be able to do, and I had his sock around my prick, which also turned me on because his feet are as attractive as the rest of him. I gave his softie a little squeeze to feel the meatiness of it; the shaft fit perfectly into my hand, length and width both. The head was peeking out the circle made by my thumb and forefinger.
It sure didn't take very long, but I had more warning this time, about ten strokes' warning to be exact. I pumped an average-size load into the sock, caught my breath for a minute, then carefully pulled my hand out from under the covers. Hell with replacing his cock in his boxers--let him think he spanked it in his sleep.
I milked the remaining jizz into the sock, thankful that I hadn't simply blown my load all over the floor. Glancing at Corey lying there I was especially relieved that I hadn't tried to pull his covers off to suck him. I ditched the sock in a pile of dirty clothes, then quietly got dressed and took off.
Maybe I shouldn't have driven home...but I just wanted to get back to my own bed. The taste of Corey's semen stayed with me, it was that strong, but after I got home it didn't bother me so much. By the time I got in bed, in fact, it kind of comforted me, knowing that a very intense part of him was now inside me.
I avoided him for a couple days, just to let him get used to the memory of what had happened. It turned out to be a good idea, and he was cool to me when we ran into each other later that week. No mention of the fun we'd had, but you learn to expect that.
Wonder if it's going to happen between us again? I doubt it. But there's always hope. If it does, then it's going to be a little more involved, you can be sure...