From The Arrangement 1:
And then he did something he had never done in all the other times I had sucked him. He reached down with his arms (which were always crossed behind his head, he liked to sit semi-upright while I sucked him, his back against the headboard. Said it was a great view, better than anything he'd seen in Playboy.) and took my head between his hands. Holding me steady and with a sound like a cross between a moan and a throb he treated me to my first real taste of sperm.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Arrangement 2:
A Continuation of a True Story
The night he gave me my first mouthful of sperm marked still another change in the relationship. It was now a special sort of give and take association, one where he gave me his sperm and I took it. All pretense our's was a merry marching mutual masturbation society vanished. The few handjobs he had given me (he had never even come close to my dick with his lips) were long forgotten. I was there to service him. To slobber over his hard-on. To pump it with hand and lips until it went limp with satisfaction. To catch his spendings in my palm or in my mouth. And I found I didn't mind.
It just seemed so natural, so right to be his sexual servant, to watch his soft cock grow stiff under my ministrations, to feel its strength, to rejoice in his moans of pleasure. I didn't need the roughness of his callused young farmer's hands on my dick to bring me satisfaction. The sight of his white sperm jetting in a creamy arc, the feel of its hot wetness splashing on my flesh, its thick coppery taste dancing on my tongue (yes, I had begun to suck him without the rubber or the rum but still hadn't swallowed) were my reward and, if they weren't enough to get me off right then, well a few self-administered strokes of my dick always did the trick.
The oddest thing about this was our sex didn't affect our friendship. It was as though we were two different sets of people. We continued to fish, swim and ride our bikes together. We did chores on the farm together, worked on cars together and all without the slightest aura of sexual longing. I guess we led two lives.
And, unlike most of the stories you read, despite being young teens, (He was three years older than I.) we weren't having sex at every opportunity (or maybe it's more correct al la President Clinton who thinks oral sex is only sex to the giver, to say I wasn't having sex at every opportunity.) For the most part our only sex play was when we'd spend the night together.
Then there was no question what was going to happen. From the moment we entered the bedroom and he took his clothes off I would spend the night between his legs, coaxing him to climax, once, twice and even three times if I could. So I was excited and so was he when we went to spend the weekend at his grandmother's in the big city, especially since we hadn't spent the night together in over a month.
We'd stayed at his grandmother's before but not since our relationship had heated up. She lived on the seventh floor of a large brownstone apartment building in a racially-mixed neighborhood. His grandmother was in her early 70's and very hard of hearing, which fit nicely into our plans. She only had one bedroom in her apartment, so we got to sleep on the fold-out couch in her living room, a very small fold-out couch.
I can still remember the trip to his grandmother's. Teasing him as he drove and how his dick thickened when I rubbed it through his blue jeans, a wet spot forming on the left side of his fly. Stopping at the small party store to by a Playboy and a bottle of Cornhusker's Lotion (the big black woman running the store winking at me when I nervously made my purchase.) Motown tunes and Hot Times/Summer in the City playing on the AM radio. Driving several blocks out of our way to watch the streetwalkers strut their stuff.
We'd only been at his grandmother's for about an hour when she asked us to go and get some boxes from her storage area. The brownstone's basement had been divided into individual storage areas, really just cages made of wood frames and chicken wire, with padlocked latches which passed for security.
Once thing led to another ("Tease me will you.. I'm not waiting until tonight. You're going to get me off right now.) and I found myself down on my knees over in a corner of the storeroom with a mouthful of cock. We thought the boxes would keep anyone from seeing us. We were wrong.
"Now ain't this just a pretty sight?" a deep voice boomed out. "That boy there look's like he sucks cock better than my wife or my girl friend. I just gotta get me somethat."
I started to get up as a big hand applied pressure to my shoulder. "Uh uh, you're ain't going nowhere least til we gets this straightened out." Looking up a saw a black black man in his mid- fifties. I recognized him as a neighbor of my friend's grandmother who knew both of us.
"___, asked me to give you boys a hand getting those boxes up from the basement. Now unless you want me to tell her what I saw down here, break that old woman's heart it would, I'm going to give you a little more than a hand. I'm gonna give you about seven inches."
We were scared and trapped. If we didn't do what he wanted, well that wasn't an option. We mumbled our acceptance.
"Ok," he told my friend, "you go out by the elevator and make sure no one else comes down. Webster, you zip my pants and take out my johnson." We did as we were told.
His dick was swelling in my hand, large but rounder and softer than my friend's. My breath caught in my throat as I stuck my tongue out to give it a first lick. Holding the tip in my mouth I reached up with my and undid his brass belt buckle. He undid the snap of his pants and they fell to the floor around his ankles. My hand started kneading his ass while I suckled on his prick like a young puppy on his mother's tits.
I was lost in the moment, a moment of discovery, it wasn't just my friend's dick I liked sucking on, it was this man's dick too. And if I liked sucking these dicks, maybe I'd like sucking others.
I paused in my sucking to lick at his fat, hairy balls, spitwashing them. They began to roll around in his sack, rising and falling with the motions of my tongue.
"Oh yeah that's nice boy but get back to business. We ain't got all day and we don't want grandma coming down here to see what's happening."
I licked my way back up his cock savoring the taste of his drippings. They seemed almost sweet. I played with his balls squeezing them in my hands. I choked as his cock hit the back of my throat. He withdrew a little.
"Come on Web. Time's awasting. I'm gettin close. Start suckin for all you worth."
I tightened my lips and began bobbing my head up and down as fast as I could on his dick, trying to go a little closer to his crotch with every store, determined to bury my nose in those curly black public hairs. I laid my tongue flat in my mouth to provide his rod with deeper access. And I worried, worried that the softness of his cock meant that he would never come, that like my friend when his cock was only semi-hard he had had too much to drink and that all my efforts would be without a cocksucker's reward, that mouthful of manjuice.
Suddenly he stretched upwards standing on his tiptoes. My lips would have lost their seal on his cock if he hadn't grabbed the sides of my head with his hands and guided me upwards with him.
His cock pulsed, I could actually feel the sperm shooting down the cockvein resting on the top of my tongue before it oozed out of the tip, a slower ejaculation than I was used to.
Taking my mouth off his shrinking cock, I turned my head and began to spit only to be stopped by his hand grabbing my hair and yanking my head up and backwards.
"Web, you probably ain't sucked many men's cocks. So let me give you a little lesson in manners. I had to teach this to my wife and some of my girlfriends and if you're going suck cocks you better know it too.," he said staring down into my eyes. "Don't you ever spit out a man's offerings, that's disrespectful. If a man fills your mouth you swallow and then you thanks him and you axs for more. You got that?"
His hand loosened its grip enough for me to nod my agreement. "Good boy. Now open your mouth and let me see you swallow. I want to watch my sperm slide down your tongue and into your throat."
It was hard to swallow with my mouth opened but I did as he commanded watching him smile as my throat worked his gift down to my stomach. For the first time in my life, I was not only a cocksucker, I was now a cumeater as well.
If you've liked this second installment of a true story and think I should continue to tell you about my adventures as a high school student let me know at webdazell@yahoo.com