From The Arrangement 2:
It was hard to swallow with my mouth open 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.
A continuation of a true story:
As I pulled his pants back up his legs (he wasn't wearing any underwear) my chocolate conqueror released his grip on my head, playfully ruffling my hair with his big meaty hand as he did so. "Now that was nice, Web. You've got a sweet mouth on you and you took to my dick like a hog to a trough. How'd you like swallowing my cum?"
Wordlessly, I answered by allowing his pants to drop back to the floor and wrapping my left hand tight around the base of his now flaccid cock. Slowly I moved my hand up toward the tip of his coffee-colored serpent like a boy trying to squeeze the last dollop of toothpaste out of the tube, forcing his sperm onto my extended tongue. After a final lick to capture the single glistening drop hanging from his slit, I stood up and, mouth open, swallowed his offering as though it were nectar from the gods.
A peal of laughter as loud and sudden as a burst of thunder escaped from his lips. "Boy, you are sumptin else. We're damn sure going to have some good times. Now get the stuff out of those boxes while I go and talk to your friend."
The coming of evening lagged as slowly as a child being sent to the principal's office. Once we had returned to his grandmother's apartment, my friend and I were only alone for a few minutes, never long enough for any real conversation about what had happened in the basement. We had to content ourselves with exchanging glances over the Chinese Checkers board.
As the time went by, I began to question my actions in the basement. Regret warred with satisfaction. Why didn't I just get up and run? Why did I let him make me suck him? Why did I swallow? And why the hell did in milk him like I did? Being afraid would account for most of what I did in the basement but not that last. He was done. He'd come. All I had to do was give him a yes or no answer. But I hadn't at least not verbally. So why did I do it, what did it mean? These questions kept running through my head like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.
Finally his grandmother decided to call it a night and, with an admonition not to stay up too late watching the late night horror movies on a local tv channel, went off to her bedroom shutting the door tight behind her. Even after what had happened in the basement we knew we didn't have to worry about his grandmother catching us. She took a sleeping pill every night that knocked her out until morning.
"Hey Web, I'm sorry man," my friend said as we pulled the sofa bed out from the living room couch, his voice pitched soft in apology. "I never thought we'd get caught. I've been down in that basement dozens of times to get stuff and no one every comes down there. I meant what I said when we started that no one else would know about us. I sure wasn't going to tell anyone."
I didn't reply, unsure of what I should say.
"I never thought Old Man Grambs would catch us down there and even after he did I never ever thought he'd have you suck him off. Christ, he's married and he's got a couple of kids older than we are. At least he told me you blew him Did you? Did he make you suck him off?"
Looking directly into my friend's eyes and watching to see how he'd react, I gave a brief shallow nod of my head. His face began to exhibit a feral excitement like an animal stalking its prey.
"Yeah, he told me you did," his voice still softly pitched but coarsening in tone. "Your boy Web was on my fat johnson like a bear stealing honey from a bee tree.' That's what he said. Kid was like a starving man at a banquet. Couldn't get enough, left me as wrung out and limp as an old linen dish rag.' Said you liked it too. Was he right Web? Did you like sucking his black cock?"
Again I nodded my acquiescence and, with the downward stroke of my head, I noticed the fly in his blue cotton pajamas had begun to bulge outward, his boner uncoiling like a thick branch that had been bent into a bow and now was being slowly released.
"God, I wish I'd been there to see it. You on your knees, his dick deep in your mouth. You look so hot with my cock in your mouth. I just love watching you work when you give me head, how your lips stretch, the way your cheeks puff in and out. Well, maybe next time. And next time may be tomorrow."
I managed to force a croaked "Why, why tomorrow" past my dry throat and mouth.
"The old man wants you to suck him off again you know," he told me, each sentence he spoke stimulating both of us. "Asked me to bring you over to his apartment tomorrow before we leave. His wife is at her sister's until Wednesday. Should I do that Web? Should I walk you over to Grambs' so you can have one more taste of his pecker before we leave? And if I do will you let me watch? Maybe you can take even turns and suck us both off. I think we'd all like that."
As he continued to speak, my eyes were again drawn to the fly of his pajamas. His rock hard dick had erupted from his fly and jutting straight out its head gleaming with shiny precum. I felt my dry mouth start to moisten with saliva.
I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my hands and knees on the bed and scuttled across its chenille cover like a crab. Reaching out with my hands, I pulled him closer, capturing his prick in my mouth, locking my lips just behind the ridge of his helmet, my tongue swabbing him clean of precum. He started to rock back and forth driving his cock in and out as I lightly scraped his skin with my teeth. Then quite unexpectedly, so unexpectedly I started to toter, he pulled himself out of my mouth, his dick making a soft, wet "pop" sound as it left. As he kept me from falling forward, I could see the red marks my rasping incisors had left on his skin.
"Not so fast Web, I want you to see something. I'm going to the bathroom for a minute and while I'm gone I want you to turn off all the lights except for the TV. Then take off your pajamas and get under the covers. I'll be back in a minute."
I took advantage of his absence to run to the kitchen and drink a big glass of water. As I refilled the glass from the pitcher his grandmother kept in the refrigerator, I could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom and talking to himself. "Now where'd she put it. I know it's around here somewhere.' I could hear drawers opening and closing. "Ah, there it is."
I had just managed to finish turning off the lights (I had been too busy to give a lot of thought to what he had been looking for) when my friend came around the corner holding something shiny behind his back. "Web, aren't you supposed to be under those covers right now. Ah hell, it doesn't matter," he told me as he moved up to the edge of the bed. "Come on over here and undo my bottoms. Then get my dick in your mouth just like you had it before."
Nervously I complied wondering what my friend was up to and just what he had behind his back. It didn't take long to find out. I was in mid-stroke when his left hand whipped around from behind his back to reveal _ a hand mirror. He had brought an oval hand mirror out of the bathroom.
"OK Web, stop right there and take a look at yourself in the mirror. I wanted you to see just how sexy you look when you're sucking cock. Told you it was better than anything in Playboy."
I shifted my eyes to look at the mirror (if I moved my head I would have lost contact with his dick) and what I saw made my cock add another inch of diameter to the wet circle my dripping precum was causing on the cover below.
Bathed in the gentle glow of the television was the freshly scrubbed face of a young male teenager with short brown hair and a stubby button nose. A few freckles dotted his cheeks, cheeks which had been rounded inward by the force of his sucking until they resembled the inside surface of a pink rubber ball cut open.
The mirror revealed a gaping mouth which spoke of unrestrained passions and wantonness, the juvenile lips thrust tautly forward along a pillar of stiff smooth flesh, a small line of wetness escaping from the tiny pocket in the mouth's corner where the connection between the two bodies failed. There could be no question this was a mouth made to give pleasure to other males, to slobber over countless men, vacuuming their throbbing poles deep into its connecting throat, with a tongue intend to roll their manly essences around the mouth like a fine brandy.
Above all the mirror exposed the visage of an individual whose eyes expressed a sense of contentment and fulfillment as he nursed on the prick in his mouth, someone unburdened by the knowledge he liked to suck cocks, unafraid to give full range to his desires.
To this day I wish I had a copy of the reflection of the young man I saw in that mirror.
Almost as quickly as it had appeared, the mirror vanished, set on floor by the side of the sofa bed. My friend's strong hands pushed me flat on my back, temporarily breaking our carnal connection. As I rose to give him room to lay down he pushed me flat on my back again, this time positioning himself over my prostrate body with his knees locked tightly around my rib cage.
As he propped my head up with a pillow, I gave myself over to his desires and mine. Who was I to deny what the looking glass had finally made plain. He moved his way forward until his ass was firm against my chest, his prick was pounding against my lips like a medieval battering ram. I surrendered, opening wide while my tongue played the role of the lowered drawbridge, allowing him unhindered passage into my oral courtyard.
He took full advantage of my capitulation, thrusting forward until he reached the back of my throat and then back until just the tip sat on the edge of my front teeth, sawing in and out while my lips quivered along the sides of his dick and his ballsack scraped up and down on my chest. In this new and unfamiliar position the salvia began to pool in the back of my throat threatening to choke me when the level rose too high. My need to swallow to avoid gagging just added another new thrill for my friend as my lips, mouth and sometimes even my throat would contract around his dick, squeezing it tight in a hot, moist, fleshy vice.
The end came quickly for both of us, the events of the day and the earlier release we had been denied had aroused us to new heights of excitement, added urgency to our movements, fervor to our coupling. My friend's legs began to shake against my ribs, a sure sign he was growing close to orgasm and I increased the intensity of my sucking.
We had not spoken since he pushed me to the bed, words seemed unnecessary to the task at hand. But, as his climax neared, my friend managed to gasp out one question between breaths: "You know what to do?"
I answered him first with my eyes, "Yes, I know what to do," and then with my actions. With a heavy grunt my friend bent over, his hands coming to rest on the top of the sofa, his dick sliding backwards to the outer edge of my mouth. Once, twice, three times he spurted his hot cream across the waiting surface of my tongue, thoroughly coating it with a white effusion of sperm before he withdrew.
Sitting up slowly, I stuck my semi-curled tongue out at him like a little child mad at the world. But the real reason was to prove to him his offering had been accepted. I watched him watch me, his eyes going first at the puddle of come on top of my tongue and then to my throat as its muscles convulsed when I swallowed.
"Thank you," I told my friend and then asked "When you're ready to go again, can I have some more?"
If you've liked this third installment of a true story and think I should continue to tell you about my adventures as a high school student pleaselet me know at webdazell@yahoo.com
Note to all readers. The actual events portrayed in these stories took place in the mid-sixties. Most of the practices outlined here are now too dangerous to indulge in in this the era of AIDS. Please practice safe sex only.