Hey folks, Bryan Johnson here. Hope you all enjoy this story. I've written several others (Comics are fun!, Running in the Rain, My Brother, my cousin and me)Back around 2010. All of them are `augmented reality. Some things happened and some are things I wished had happened! I love feed-back, so please, tell me what you think (Redbj@att.net). Enjoy, and please donate to Nifty!
Sketches, Part 1
"Crimeny this is hot!" I thought as I pedaled at about four minutes/mile. "I think I'm gonna melt into a puddle any second!"
Do you have any idea hot the summers are in the Midwest? I mean, Southern California has nothing on the heat, upper 90's are usual, but the humidity! 75, 80, even 90%! And it doesn't even cool off at night, which this definitely wasn't! It's only late June and here I am, pedaling my butt off, sweat running down my face, back and chest, mouth dry as a desert and havin' to take a wicked piss. Well, at least my favorite pit stop was only a mile or so ahead!
Oh, by the way, I'm Sean. I'm writing this about the summer before my junior year in High School. I was a little runt then (I guess I'm not much bigger now), only 5'4" and about 110#. Bright red hair (yes, down there too, what there was of it then), green eyes and white skin that never tanned (but boy! Did it ever burn!). No freckles though, thank Boggle! Other than missing out on the freckles, I was `Irish as Paddy's pig,' as my Granfer used to say.
I veered off the highway onto the long drive into the Grau Mill Forest Preserve parking lot. Under the shade of the trees, I slowed down and loafed along the half mile to the little clapboard shack out house. There were only a couple of cars in the parking lot. Some guy sitting at one of the picnic tables with a big paper pad in front of him writing something I guess. There was a couple picnicking in the big meadow with some little kids playing tag.
I stretched my legs a bit and wiped the sweat off my face. The highway swung in by the outhouse there. I could see the big houses just across the road. I grabbed my water bottle and took a long drink, put it away, then adjusted my package a bit.
"Damn! I whack off here so often, I get hard just coming up to the place!"
Not that I'd be whacking it there today. Or for a while, probably. I mean, the only reason I did it the first time was all those messages on the walls. Those and the pictures. I used to draw a lot. I really enjoyed it, but my Dad didn't like me doing such a `sissy' thing, so I stopped. I stopped because Dad didn't like it and, well, I'd realized I always drew pictures of guys, and it was beginning to scare me a little. I'd never drawn anything like these, but I'd really have liked to! Of course, that was three years ago. I'd never acted on it, but I knew I was gay.
But my Dad, if he ever found out I was, "...a fucking faggot," I'd be dead meat. And I'm not totally sure that was an exaggeration. He didn't beat me anymore, but he'd put me in the hospital once when he saw a sketch I'd done of a buddy, shirtless. He said I'd fallen down the stairs. When I got home, all my art supplies were gone and Dad told me He never wanted to see me doing any `pansy' stuff like drawing again.
The first time I'd stopped at the park john, I got caught short on my way back home and had to take a dump there. I hated doing that anywhere but home, and I'd never gone into a john in the park. They smelled bad and kids got abducted there. But I wasn't a kid anymore (though not much bigger than one) and a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.
Yeah, it smelled and the stall didn't have a door, but at there was toilet paper and the place was empty. The floor was wet. I only pulled my Bike shorts down to my knees to avoid the wet. I pushed my dick down with one hand and slid the foreskin back with the other. I sat there, nervously, in the dim light seeping through the vent holes around the ceiling doing my thing. Then my eyes adjusted to the gloom and I started to see the graffiti.
Some looked very old, and some looked recent. Pictures of hard dick, pussies, assholes getting fucked, dripping cocks...it was amazing! And the messages were awesome.
"Meet me here at 6PM for a blowjob"
"Got 8" to slide in you, call XXX-XXXX"
"Show it hard"
Before I knew it, my dick was rising and I was caressing it with both hands. My foreskin was leaking drips of precum into the toilet as I slid it over my swollen dickhead. Blowjob', cocksucker', fuck' 8 inches hard', all these things got me so hot, but so confused. These were guys who were doing what I was afraid of doing! They were meeting strangers and having sex! Awesome!
I sat there, totally amazed while I read and my hand just sort of started that movement without my planning it to. I was looking at this crude drawing of a guy on his hands and knees, a guy kneeling behind him, his cock spewing out cum. I felt the wet on my hand as my precum leaked over my fingers. I spread it over the head then slid my foreskin up and down slowly over the tip.
I saw a picture of a guy laying on his back, with his legs up, his butt hole spread open and cum leaking out and the image of a big dick leaking cum like it had just pulled out of the guy. I spit on my dick and spread the goo on my hot dick meat, lubing up the shaft like I did at home and started my favorite tempo, 1-2-3 fast then 1-2-3 slow, then repeat. My dick was leakin' so much my pubes were wet. All seven thick inches were good and slippery with my spit and precum.
I saw a sketch of a guy, dick in profile like an iron bar, shoulders turned to look at where I was sittin' on the commode, with the words, I want to fuck YOU!
I let out a loud groan as I shot my load. It arched up and hit me under my chin, then splashed all over my chest and belly. I was totally drained. I could barely stand when I finished cleaning myself up. I crept out of the john like everyone in the Forest Preserve was watching me and KNEW I had just whacked off thinking about a guy screwing a guy. It felt weird, I mean, what was I waiting for? I was a 16 year old, gay virgin. Gay guys were having sex all over the place...even in park toilets! I had to find a way to get laid without my Dad finding out!
That started a pattern for me. Every morning, an hour into my ride, I stopped and looked for new messages and especially new sketches. I'd think about them all during the next two hours of my ride, then dick ready to rip out of my cycling pants, I'd stop again and whack it, reading these hot, hot messages and looking at the drawings.
So I figured I'd hook up with someone from the toilet. I showed up at the times written on the wall, no one even showed. One time, I even went as far as writing down one of the numbers and calling it that evening. When this deep, masculine voice answered, I panicked and hung up. Then spent the rest of the night whacking it so often I had a hard time walking the next day!
This had been going on for three weeks, then this morning, tragedy! They painted the inside of the john! I was so pissed!
Stopped on the way back and I went into the little building, not expecting much, but I still had to piss... and jack off. I pushed my cycle pants down to my knees and spread my legs a bit. Dang! Those breezes felt good! I fluffed up my pubes a bit and started to piss into the urinal. Then my eyes focused on the wall in front of me.
There was the most beautiful line sketch I had ever seen of a naked guy. He was lying on his side, one hand propped under his head and one leg flexed. His dick was lying across his hip, long, but not hard. This was a beautiful piece of meat, uncut, with only just the tip showing. God, he was totally beautiful! He looked kinda muscular and buffed, with the beginnings of a nice six-pac. And it was a particular person, not just a generic nude guy. His face was a person's face, dark curly, short hair, a little pug nose and high cheek bones, in fact, I thought I could almost recognize him. He seemed somehow familiar. My dick was rising as I looked at this beautiful sketch and I started rubbing the tip, spreading my juice over it.
I skinned my bike shorts completely off...the first time I'd ever done that and spit down on my dick, I started using both hands stroking its hard length. I was thrusting my hips into my hands, driving my dick in and out of the warm socket they formed. I was humping my hands and grunting, thinking of that big dick I was looking at buried deep in my butt. I'd never thought I wanted that before, but suddenly I felt my ass twitching at the thought. My balls were pulling up as I felt my climax building, the sperm pouring into my dick!
"Like the drawing?"
"It's AWESOME!" I shouted as cum exploded from my dick and sprayed the wall with my load! The first spurt hit the wall at my chest height. The next at knee height, the last three plopped noisily on the floor. I knelt over, hands on knees, I heard the splat of heavy drops on my cum hitting the floor.
"Nice view!"
I whipped around. All I could see was a tallish, slender outline against the sunlight of the door. He was grinning though; I could see the light of his teeth. Then I realized, I was standing there naked from the waist down, still dripping cum from my mostly hard dick. I covered my junk as best I could.
"Really nice view. Glad enjoyed my work!" And he was gone from the door.
I used my foreskin to squeeze the remaining cum off my dickhead and fumbled my bike shorts. I had just got my shorts up when I realized he was gone. I still had to piss though, so I finished that and FINALLY I was soft again. I arranged everything and walked out into the light.
I saw the guy who it had to be sitting at the picnic table a few yards away. It was the guy with the big pad I'd seen earlier. His back was to me, but he looked kinda young, slender, maybe 6' or so, black, short hair. I stood there a minute or so. He obviously wasn't going to call the police or anything about my playing with myself. Especially since he said he'd done the drawing. And besides, I HAD to find out who the guy in the sketch was! If he was really real, that is. God, I hoped he was real!
I walked over, "So you did the picture?"
"Yeah," he said, chuckling as he turned his head, "I did the `awesome' picture."
He was, maybe middle twenties, real good-looking face, short `stache, nice smile and big white teeth. He looked sort of familiar too, like I knew him or something.
"So Sean, you still drawing?"
"Naw I don't...Hey! How do you know my name! How do you know I used to draw! Who the hell are you?"
I was well and truly panicked! Was this some kind of stalker? Had he been following me around? Did he know where I lived? Did he...
"You should see your face!" He was laughing now. "You look like you're ready to have a heart attack, Sean. Come on guy, don't you remember me?"
Suddenly it hit me. He used to be a counselor at the La Grange YMCA, he taught a art class I took there after school when I was in eighth grade. Mr. Boyd, that was it. He was the only person who encouraged me to draw. He used to tell me I had a lot of talent. I think I started to blush.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Boyd, I didn't recognize you at first.
"Don't worry, Sean, it's been two years. I wasn't sure it was you at first either. Of, course, I never saw quite so much of you when you were in my class!"
I know I was blushing. "There wasn't that much of me to see then," I laughed.
"Don't be embarrassed, Sean. Actually I drew that sketch on the wall for you. I've been watching you from my house. I live just across the highway, see?" He pointed at a nice sized ranch house with a big picture window facing the park. "I noticed you a few weeks ago, I mean I noticed this guy on a bike stopping here regularly, twice a day. I've sketched you a few times, see?"
He showed me his pad, there were a few rough sketches of me on my bike pedaling, resting with my bike against a tree, and one of me going into the restroom, looking over my shoulder. I kept flipping through the sketchbook as he continued speaking to me. The next few pages were nude guys then the next few...then I realized I was the only clothed subject in the book!
"I've been here sketching you a couple of times over the last few days. I just realized who you were yesterday. I'd see you go into the john, obviously hard, then come out 15-20 minutes later, all...uh...relaxed," he smiled. "It didn't take a genius to figure it out what you were doing, since no one else was in there with you. I wanted to ask you to pose for me, but didn't know how to get the conversation started. When I saw them paint the place yesterday, I thought I could find an introduction that would get your attention!"
I stopped looking at the sketches. "You mean pose for you like this? In the nude?"
Sean walked over beside me. "Yeah, most of my figure stuff is nude. I enjoy it more. They're just for my personal pleasure. Like this guy here," he turned to the front of the book.
Then, I saw him, right there on the page! The guy on the wall! There were six or seven sketches of him, all nude.
"Is this guy real? I mean is he a real person or just a drawing?"
"Sure he's real, Sean. You might even have seen him. He goes to New Argo High School. He's on the Wrestling Squad."
Oh, Crimeny! I did know him! Paul Carter!
"So, Sean, will you pose for me? I pay $100 for a two hour session."
"What? $100? For two hours? But I have to be nude, right?"
"Yes, but I tell you what, I'm going to be having a session with another model tonight. Maybe you'd like to come over you can see more of my work and we can get to know each other again. You can watch the session, get a feel for it, then you can decide if you'd be comfortable posing for me. I know my model won't mind."
"Uh, okay, that'd be fine, but I'm not taking my clothes off tonight, right?"
"Nope, no posing tonight."
"Okay, I'll be there!"
So sharp at seven o'clock I was on David's doorstep. It was so darn hot, I couldn't bring myself to dress up too much, just my khaki shorts with boxers and my favorite Dragonprince T-shirt. I was really nervous and all, but, well, this Dude had been a teacher of mine and all so I was pretty sure he was safe.
"Sean! Come on in! I'm glad to see you!"
He shook my hand with a big smile, Gosh; he really had white teeth. That short black `stache and short black hair made him look younger than I'd first thought. I found myself thinking he wasn't really THAT old. He was wearing kaki Dockers and a snug T-shirt. He had a really nice chest and his arms were bigger than I remembered.
"Sean, I'll give you the 50 cent tour later, but I'd like to talk to you a bit first, okay?"
"Sure, Mr. Boyd, what?"
"Please, Sean, its David."
We went into the front room and sat on the couch. He was drinking something from a stem glass.
"I'm having wine, would you like some? Or, I could get you a soft drink or water?"
"The wine's fine, if it's okay?" I'd never drunk wine, just some beer once with some of my buds, but, hey! I might not get the chance to try it again soon!
He brought me a glass, and I tasted it, kinda carefully, I didn't want to gag or anything. It was kinda sweet but a little sour at the same time. I like it. There wasn't much in the glass, so I downed it and held out my glass for some more. David smiled and filled my glass.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Sean, are you still interested in drawing and art in general?"
"Well, yeah, I guess, but my Dad doesn't like me doing sissy stuff like that. He says it's for wimps and a waste of time besides."
"I'm not in the habit of arguing with people's parents, Sean, but your Dad is wrong. I may not be the best example," he was smiling, "but lots of really masculine guys are into producing art. It can be a lucrative career, if you have the talent, and Sean, you have a great deal of talent. I think it's a shame to waste it if you are interested in art."
"But I'd need training to do anything, right?"
David nodded. "If you want try, I'll work with you. I'll give you lessons for a few months, then introduce you to some people I know at the Art Institute. If you're as good as I believe you are, they'll help you find a way to pay for your schooling."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"You think about what I said Sean. We can talk more later. Now, let's go introduce you to my model, Eric."
We walked into the hallway, and David opened the door and a freakin' GIANT walked in! Dude, this guy was over 6'6"! Not impressed? Remember, I stand 5'4" and weigh 104#. This guy was over a foot taller than me and must have gone 240# or so! He had big, broad shoulders and a trim waist and really long legs.
"Eric, this is Sean, I told you about him. He'll be watching our session tonight, if you don't mind."
"Pleased to meet you, Sean," Eric rumbled in a pleasant deep voice. "David knows I won't mind, I like being looked at!"
I liked Eric right away. He had such an open face, real friendly like. He was about David's age, early twenties, maybe a bit younger, with blond hair, kind of shaggy and wearing a tight white T-shirt, a black leather vest and bun-hugger 501's. That T-shirt showed some pretty impressive pecs and a nice six-pac.
Eric and David chatted a bit, but they both made sure I was part of the conversation. In a few minutes, I felt like we'd all been friends for years. Eric was like a big brother, all friendly and good-natured, asking me about school and sports and my interests. He was a student at UICC (University of Illinois, Chicago Circle Campus). He poured himself a glass of wine on the way through the front room, and filled mine at the same time. Then we headed to David's studio.
It was just a big room, really, with some chairs and a couch and some moveable lights. There was a screen in one corner with a white robe draped over it.
"You can change behind the screen, Eric, and I put a robe out for you."
"When have I ever needed a robe, David? Or a screen for that matter."
As David went over to a table in the corner to get his supplies, Eric pulled off his vest and hung it on the screen, then peeled his tight T-shirt over his head, he was looking at me and smiling a bit. He had a really nice chest, strongly cut, and just a little blond hair between his pecs. He had a nice happy trail too, but, to be honest? I was getting a little nervous. He was going to be naked!
He toed off one of his boots, then the other and turned around with his back to me to put them by the screen. I looked, and David was still gathering his supplies.
Dude, the sound of those 501 buttons giving way seemed so loud! I was really nervous just looking at Eric's strongly muscled back. Smooth and really cut, his back seemed unusually broad. Then he slid his pants down and stepped out of them. His butt? Unbelievable! I'd never seen a butt where the muscles stood out like that! His legs were almost corded! This was one buff Dude. Then he turned around.
I tried to look at his face, honest, but there was this motion where his legs came together...a thick piece of meat swung and gently slapped his leg. I looked at his dick, wow, it really seemed ...then the perspective snapped into place. This Dude was 6'6" tall and his SOFT dick looked big on him?
"Oh my God! Does that thing get any bigger?"
There was a startled silence as my face exploded into flame and then both David and Eric started laughing. I chugged the last of the wine in my glass.
"Don't be embarrassed, Sean. You just said what everyone wonders when they see it. Sometimes they're thinking it so hard I can almost hear it. And yes, its six inches soft and it does get bigger. Much bigger, unfortunately."
"Dang! I'd like to see..." Flame on, here came the blush.
"Relax, Sean, guys have been asking to see it hard since I was 14," he gave a big grin. "I'll show you later, if you're still interested."
"Eric," David said, "You oil up for this pose so I can get the highlights right. Sean, could you get Eric the oil and towel? They're on the table behind the screen. I'll be back in a few minutes." David left the room.
I got the oil and handed it to Eric, as he worked at helping me over the embarrassment my big mouth had caused. He was really good at it. Like I said, he was like a big brother. After a minute or two, it didn't even seem strange standing there watching this giant rubbing oil all over himself. I was really trying not to be obvious looking at him, when he said,
"It's okay to look at my body, Sean, I like it. That's why I pose."
So I stood there watching him massage oil into his skin. He was smiling at me and talking as I watched him smooth the oil into his dick and balls. He smiled at me when he caught me looking. He really seemed to be enjoying himself. Dang! It was big!
"Don't you get hard, rubbing that in and all?"
"No way, Sean. When you have this much meat, it only goes up when you're thinking good thoughts'!" He laughed at me expression. Do, my back, would you?"
I had just finished rubbing the oil into Eric's shoulders and was working my way down his back when David came into the room again carrying a tray with wine, cheese and crackers and fruit. He filled my glass, just as Eric said,
"Uh, Sean, you're giving me `good thoughts'."
I realized I'd started oiling the top of his butt. I'm not sure if it was all the wine I'd had, or I was just getting really relaxed with Eric, but I wasn't really embarrassed. I just laughed and started wiping my hands on the towel.
David posed Eric the way he wanted, then set my chair so Eric was looking at me.
"Sean, the two of you can talk, just don't move your body, Eric. And I'd rather you didn't talk to me."
The room got quiet as David sketched, the charcoal he was using barely made a sound.
Eric asked me, "So Sean, have you ever posed nude before?"
"No, Mr. Boyd asked me to come over tonight to watch how it's done to see if I'd do it for him."
"Well I'm glad you came over. I like handsome guys to watch me pose. If you do pose for David, I hope you'll let me watch you. I'd love to see you naked!"
"I'd like that, I think," My face exploded red.
So Eric and I continued to chat about his college and my school and got to know each other while David sketched. Mr. Boyd, David, sort of disappeared in a way, you know? He wasn't moving, only his hand and his eyes, glancing up at Eric then back to the pad, it was like Eric and I were alone in the room. I was really enjoying it, except Eric kept referring to me as a "...little guy."
You know like `It's easier for a little guy like you to find clothes," (it isn't) and "...a little guy like you wouldn't know."
To be honest, it was getting to be just a bit annoying when David called a break. He poured Eric and me a glass of the wine and asked us if we'd like to step out into the back yard to relax. By this time, I didn't even feel strange when Eric didn't bother with the robe. He put his arm around my shoulder and we walked out into the backyard.
It was a hot, humid Midwest night. The stars were perfect; the moon was about half, so there was lots of light. I was surprised that David had an in ground pool. That wasn't usual for the Midwest. We were walking across this beautiful, deep grass towards the back of the yard and the barbecue area when Eric went a bit too far.
"Yeah, David, I really like watching little guys like Sean wrestling..."That was as far as he got.
He was on my right. As he stepped forward and transferred his weight to his left leg, I swung my right knee into the back of it. As his leg collapsed, I thumped his chest back with my upper arm and started falling backwards. I stepped around him and pushed to make sure he'd go down, then stepped around in back of him to catch him as he fell. My arm flashed around his neck into an arm bar. I tightened it, just a bit to show him I was in charge.
"Us little guys get sensitive about being called little guys," I said.
David just stood there for a second, then started laughing so hard I thought he'd fall over. It hit me how ridiculous this whole thing looked! Here I was this yeah, `little guy' redhead throwing a submission hold on the naked, blond giant, practically. Heck, as soon as I let him go, he could pound me into the ground like a tent peg! Then I realized Eric wasn't struggling, he was laughing to beat the band.
"You win! You win! You're plenty big enough!"
I think that did it. At that point, I forgot I was almost seventeen and they were in their twenties and so did they. We were just three buds chillin' in the yard. By the time we got back to the studio, about twenty minutes later, we were old friends.
Eric posed in a different position, sitting back in an armchair, legs spread, arms resting on the chair arms, that awesome dick of his draped across his right hip. David disappeared into his drawing again. I felt comfortable looking at Eric and at his dick by this time. I told him I'd never seen a dick big enough to place, like a piece of furniture. That cracked him up for a bit, then things got kind of quiet for a while.
The feeling in the room changed, but I couldn't really say just how. After a minute, I realized Eric was staring into my eyes.
"You know, Sean, no one has been able to control me, physically like you did since I was your age. It was an interesting feeling."
His voice sounded, I don't know, kinda warmer, friendlier or something. I began to feel just a little uncomfortable. Then I noticed his dick. It looked a little...longer? Not really big, but, just maybe a little...thicker? Then it jerked a bit and moved about half an inch further across his hip.
I sort of laughed a bit, "Dude, you're having good thoughts."
He just kept looking at me, with a little smile on his face as that dick of his started to expand. It got thicker, then a little longer, and then I could see his heartbeat in the little jerks it made. It kept stretching further across his hip, till the weight dragged it down and it fell to the cushion. I could hear the head hit the chair. I looked up at his eyes, and he was still half smiling at me. I glanced over at Mr. Boyd; he was still absorbed in his sketchpad, eyes flickering between it and Eric. He had to see that enormous erection growing.
Eric's dick had a life of its' own. I could see the big, circumcised head swelling and beginning to turn a reddish color and it continued to enlarge. The head lifted off the chair like a crane rising. The shaft formed a long, thick curve as the head bounced slightly with Eric's heartbeat. It was pointing at me, standing out from his body in a long shallow curve. It must have been a foot long at least!
"I've got to make a phone call," David said, then he was gone. I'd forgotten he was there, Eric and I were alone in the studio.
"Wow," I said to Eric, weakly, "it's really big."
"It's not all the way there yet, Sean. Bring me the oil. I need to get the shine back for David"
The oil was sitting on the floor about 6 inches from his foot. I walked over, never taking my eyes from that huge piece of meat between Eric's legs. I knelt in front of him and picked up the oil, opened it and started to hand it to him. Eric reached out with his hand and grasped the oil bottle, holding my fingers to it. He used my hand to pour a small stream onto his dick.
"Will you rub it in for me?"
I looked up into his eyes. I knew where this was heeding, and I knew I could stop it, if I wanted to. But...I was a sixteen (almost) year old virgin with a homophobic Dad. I didn't dare do anything with my friends for fear of him finding out. So I could either stay a virgin for a few years until I could move out or I could take a chance in this seeming safe place and start doing the things I always longed to do. I nodded. I didn't quite trust my voice. I scooted forward and he spread his legs wider. I put down the oil and wrapped my hand around the part of the shaft I could hold. My fingers didn't touch. It was so hard, like a piece of iron covered with a thick skin of hard rubber. And hot, I never noticed my dick was so hot when I jerked it. I could feel Eric's heartbeat.
"Spread the oil on me, Sean, please?"
I put my other hand around his pole and slowly slid them to the top. With both my hands at the base, touching each other, I only covered about half the length. I took my right hand and felt the huge red head of his dick with my fingers. Eric sighed. I explored his dick, I ran my fingers over it, I held it in my hands, and I stroked it. My hands sort of took over and they extended my explorations to his balls, I held them and moved them in the sack. I couldn't hold both of them in one hand. I ran my fingers though his blond pubic hair and up his belly, feeling the hard muscles of his six-pac.
Eric reached forward and grasped my shoulders in his hands. I felt how strong he was. I moved further forward on my knees, my face coming closer to his crotch until his dick filled my vision. I held it in both hands and began to stroke it as he massaged my shoulders. I cupped the head in my hand and kneaded it as I stoked my other hand up and down the long shaft. When I removed my hand from the huge knob, I saw the liquid running slowly from the tip. I recognized the precum and felt the wetness mine was causing in my shorts. I could smell his crotch, the musky smell, the oil, the precum. I swallowed and I guess I licked my lips.
Then I felt the pressure on my shoulders change from a massage to a slight pulling forward, pulling my head closed to his dick. Eric wanted me to suck him. Lick him, really, cuz there was no way I'd ever get that huge head in my mouth.
He didn't force me. Just a little insistent pressure, I opened my mouth as it came close to the head, then I couldn't do it.
"Uh..." I looked up into Eric's eyes, "I don't think I can, Eric."
"That's okay Sean, do whatever you want to do," he smiled at me and went back to the massage.
I slipped into my favorite stoke, three fast, then three slow. Only with Eric, I could use my hands separately, his dick was that long. I massaged it, I played with it, I really got comfortable with handling another guy's dick. All the time, Eric'' little groans and sighs were encouraging me.
His dick looked awesome, with my hands sliding along it. It didn't feel scary anymore. I lowered my face and rubbed my cheek against it. Erics' hand slid around my face and one of his fingers slid into my mouth. It was a little rough, but I liked the feel. I sucked on it as he slid it in and out of my mouth. He turned my face slightly and gently pressed my lips against his dick head. I could taste his precum. It was salty and sweet at the same time. Eric slid his finger out of my mouth and I started to open my mouth as wide as I could.
My lips slowly spread and let the hardness of his cock took over my mouth. I played with his slit with my tongue, tasting the sweet goodness. His glans filled my mouth, and he pushed his dick forward a bit. I had about an inch of the shaft in my mouth as I started moving it in and out as I sucked. Erics' precum was flowing into my mouth in a steady stream, almost like a slow stream of salty sweet honey.
Then I heard the change in Eric's voice. The groans got a bit higher pitched and he started thrusting his meat into my mouth. I started sucking harder and tried to thrust my tongue into his slit. Pushing my head down onto his dick, my mouth opened wider and his hands encouraged me to suck more of his shaft into my eager mouth. I sucked and ran my tongue over the surface of his dick.
Eric let out a loud groan, "Oh God!"
His body tensed and every muscle stood out, his dick swelled even bigger (!!!!!) and he shot. Dang, did he shoot! My mouth filled almost instantly with his cum, his delicious, thick cum. It shot out my nose before I could swallow. It dripped onto my shirt, along with the excess goo from my mouth. Each time I swallowed, Eric filled my mouth again. Slowly, I caught up with his explosion. I finally drank down the last of his cum.
I knelt there in front of him, still wrapped up in what we'd just done, what I'd just done, cum dripping out my nose as I released his dick head with a loud plop. I guess a look of awe was on my face, still mesmerized by the sight of Eric's softening dick, not steel now, just hard rubber, not rigid, just firm.
Eric smiled at me, looking exhausted, then wiped the cum off my face with his finger and put it to his mouth. I was floored; he was going to eat his own cum. He licked the finger, and it looked so hot! Then he reached down and licked the cum off my upper lip.
"Can I kiss you, Sean?"
I nodded and our lips met. I could taste the cum in his mouth as his tongue slid between my lips. He held the back of my head; I rose up on my knees and put my arms around his chest. We kissed for a long time.
When we broke our kiss, Eric looked over my shoulder and smiled, slightly.
David was sitting in his chair, sketching us.
To be continued.