It was a hot summer day. School was out; I was away from home, and I had gone so long without release that I could barely walk from the swelling of my balls. Bill had invited me to spend two weeks with him at his aunt’s, and unfortunately she had the eyes of a hawk and clearly disapproved of young men launching their seed anywhere except inside their lawfully wedded wives. The first two days the three of us were cheek by jowl fixing up her small house, and as Bill and I slept in neighboring beds neither of us had given himself pleasure.
I had broken up with my latest girlfriend a week before that in a spat that seemed deeply important at the time, or maybe she had broken up with me, I wasn’t sure which, and I was the horniest I had ever been in all my 20 years. Today our vacation proper had started, so Bill was showing me around the woods and taking me to see the creek. Frustrated, I was jonesing for a chance to slip off into the woods to relieve the swelling when Bill said, “Lemme show ya something. Hope it’s still here.”
We ducked through a thicket into a small dilapidated cabin that appeared to have been abandoned for a decade. It had two rooms, both empty except for trash. Bill led me into the second room, which had little light shining through a cracked dirty window looking out onto an impenetrable tangle of vines and trees.
“I came here a lot growing up,” Bill said. “Hope my stash is still here.” He lifted up a board in the corner and smiled, “Oh hell yeah.” Grinning, he lifted out a plastic bag that proved to contain a dozen or so sex magazines. I glanced at his crotch and saw a massive tent pole jutting out to match my own, and as Bill looked through the stash he said, “I’ve needed a good whack for days now.”
“God, me too.”
“Take your pick.”
“Need me to go to the other room?”
He looked at me in puzzlement. “You’ve whacked it with other guys before, right?”
I nodded, and he shrugged and immediately dropped his trousers. I grabbed the magazine on top and stripped quickly. I sat against the nearest wall and opened my selection to a beautiful black woman stripping and pleasuring herself for me. I looked up to compare her skin to Bill’s, which was only slightly lighter, and stared in surprise at his solid ten inches surging upwards from his lap. While I had jerked it with three other guys at various times in the last few years, I had always been the longest at seven inches, so his length and girth amazed me.
It rose black and rubbery from a thick nest of tightly curled hairs; prominent veins stood out along its length and the head swelled like a small plum. It throbbed slightly and a drop of clear fluid stood out at the tip. I had seen members even longer in the occasional porn move, but had never encountered anything so impressive in real life and wondered how it could fit inside a woman.
I looked down at my own member, which I had so often been proud of, and remembered the times I had tried and failed to suck myself, and while the idea made me feel an obscure sense of shame, I also wondered suddenly if Bill had succeeded where I had failed, wrapping his lips around the base of his swollen dripping head...This thought was more uncomfortably fascinating than I liked, so I looked away finally and caressed myself lightly as my dark goddess opened her pink center to my fascinated eyes, and I heard Bill’s ragged breathing quicken as he began stroking himself vigorously.
I looked over to see he was staring at a busty blonde, light brown hair surrounding a juicy swollen pair of lips, and he looked over and chuckled when he saw the object of my lust. “She looks like my first girlfriend,” he chuckled.
“Yours looks like my latest.”
“Lucky man.”
“Not really. I never met a woman so hard to get along with.”
“I’d put up with a whole hell of a lot of bullshit, horseshit, and chickenshit to sleep with a woman like that every night.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But I can’t put up with that much. We broke it off a week before you and I came here.”
“So… Do blondes really taste better?”
“No real difference I’ve noticed. So you have a thing for blondes?”
“God yes. I shouldn’t, I know, but I do. It bothered me when I was younger, but I realized I shouldn’t hate on myself when it’s the rest of America that’s so goddamn fucked up about that. Now I just accept it. I don’t mention it, of course, because I can imagine what all the brothers will say. And sisters, not to mention everyone else.” He looked over knowingly at my choice of material and said, “Judging from the way you’ve been staring at her, I'd say you have a thing for the sisters.”
I paused, thinking to deny it, but said, “A bit.” I looked down at the picture and added, “For a woman like her, a lot more than a bit. I could put up with shit from a woman like her a hell of a lot.”
He laughed and nodded. “You’ve chosen a good one there. I must have stared at her two or three dozen times myself.”
We continued whacking slowly, building up and then pulling back, reveling in the chance finally to gain release. Finally, Bill groaned, “I need to get off.” He stood up and walked over to the opposite wall, which I saw was heavily streaked with seminal discolorations going back years.
“God, are those all yours?”
“Who knows? Most of them anyway, I bet.”
He knelt before the wall, his sweat-coated black body muscular and obscure in the low light, and held his blonde beauty with his left hand as his right hand pounded away. In the past I had mostly focused on the task at hand, but I was seized with the hot desire to see his climax, so I knelt next to him and watched him as we both stroked hard. His cock stood out rigid as his fist pistoned along its shaft like a well-crafted machine, and in less than a minute his first thick stream of jizz jetted out to shoulder height on the wall. Eight more spurts sprayed onto the wood and dribbled slowly to the floor, and even though it was the most copious discharge I had ever seen, he remained hard and throbbing.
His rigid flesh held me rapt as I pummeled my own cock, and when I looked up I saw he was staring at it as its purple head swelled towards release. For some reason his fascination with my lust turned me on even more, and with a scream I sprayed hard onto the wall. The first spurt was torn out of me like a chain pulled the cum out of my balls, and the next seven spurts followed in a mixture of intense pleasure and discomfort, lust and embarrassment, and above all a feeling of discovery as intense as the first time I jerked off and the first time I came inside a woman.
“That was a good start,” he chuckled quietly, “But I’ll probably need at least three more before I can get my cock back inside my pants.”
We laughed and I said, “Yeah, I plan to exercise my arm a lot the next hour.”
“So, who all did you whack it with?” he asked.
I told him all three, and he nodded. “You?” After he told me all nine and I got over my amazement, we sat back down and started talking about our first times and our best times with women, where again he had at least twice as many partners as I had had. Finally my curiosity got the better of me. “Tell me about the first time you whacked it with another guy.”
“It was my junior year. I was in the shower after running practice, and one other guy was there. We’d been friends for years, but just friends, you know? Acquaintances, really, buddies, not really close. Anyway, he was completely hard and I was semi-hard, and he was really embarrassed at first, but I just kept getting harder and he laughed. He said, ‘My girl’s a tease, ya know?’ I just nodded and we started soaping up. After a minute we were both soaping up our cocks, and he just kept on soaping. Soon he was fucking his fist like he didn’t know anyone else was there, so I watched and followed along. He came real hard and then watched while I came. We did it a few more times, but he got really embarrassed around me after about two weeks and avoided me.”
“Was he long?”
Bill looked at me curiously but just said, “Not really. Five inches or less.”
“How long was the longest?”
“Dude, it wasn’t you, so stop angling for compliments.” We laughed and he said, “Actually, you’re pretty big. Maybe the second longest, probably third. One guy was longer than me, and another was maybe eight inches.”
“You’re definitely the longest I’ve watched.”
“Damn straight.”
We laughed and I said, “First guy was about six inches. The others were about average, five or a little longer.”
He nodded and asked, “And your first time?”
“I was at summer camp my junior year. I was in a cabin with three other guys, and there was a girls’ camp around the lake.”
“Of course.”
“Of course. So one of the other guys and I snuck off one night to try to peek at the girls’ shower. Well, turns out they had all gone into their cabins and lights were out, so he and I were walking back really disappointed. And really horny. Probably a good thing though; they caught two other guys peeking a couple of days later and reamed the fuck out of them. Figuratively speaking of course.”
We laughed and I continued, “So near the camp on the way back, Jeff says, ‘I need to jerk off.’ I followed him into a small thicket and we dropped our pants and just drained ourselves. Didn’t really pay attention to each other. We did it a few more times after that. Nothing sexy about it, just companionable.”
“Companionable. I see.”
We chuckled, and I asked him, “What was your best time?”
“One of the best times was the weekend before I went off to college. My best friend was staying over, and we were watching some porn. We’d jerked off together probably eight, ten times by then, and we were sitting their side by side stroking away to a threesome when the girl lay back and watched the two guys start to play with each other.”
He glanced over at me and saw me looking raptly at him, and continued, “So I got really turned on, and so did Dave. We looked at each other’s cocks as much as we watched the screen…”
“Was he long?”
Bill chuckled, “Long enough. About six inches.”
“Black? White?”
“Black.”
“Cut? Uncut?”
“Uncut.” He chuckled again and said, “So after a minute or two, we were just watching each other. Suddenly he said, ‘Ah hell,’ and reached over and played with the head of my cock. I reached over and grabbed his shaft and balls. We played with each other for a couple of minutes and then just got down to it. We came all over each other and just kept going. We jerked each other off five times before going to bed and jerked each other off once more in the morning. Then he got really weird and left. Never saw him again.”
“Have you jerked off other guys besides him?”
“A couple of others.”
We were staring at each other, our cocks throbbing, and I asked, “Is that why you invited me along?”
“Maybe.”
Our cocks were fully hard and throbbing. We were sitting facing each other and I could see the black length rising smoothly from his wrinkly ball sac, and in my mingled fascination and shame it called out to me. I wanted to finger it, stroke it, grip it tightly, feel it pulse as it drained to my touch, and perhaps more. The memory of my pulsing cock head spewing hot cum onto my face and neck three inches from my lips, two men sucking each other avidly in a movie I had turned off in embarrassment before their happiness arrived, the letters I had read in fits of desire and shame and imagined copying until the overwhelming floods of relief and semen left only the shame, all swirled in my brain, but I pushed them aside and decided to limit myself to a companionable whack.
I reached over and started exploring his cock with my fingertips, which he pushed up to meet me. I soon raised myself to my knees and crouched over him as he leaned back without losing hold of my straining cock. His own cock seemed endless, its soft velvety skin sliding gracefully under my delicate fingertips, and I could hear Bill’s ragged breathing as he watched me exploring him. I stroked the shaft lightly with my left hand as my right hand reached up to take the head into possession. The precum leaked out and coated my palm as I stroked it over the tip. My left hand surrounded the shaft and worked the sheath of skin back and forth along the rigid central pole.
My loins demanded immediate release, but I had to make the new experience last. The head of his cock jutted up above both of my barely closing fists, precum dribbling from its hole, and twitched in my hands like a small animal seeking a burrow. It was different from mine, however familiar the basic design, and he was as taken with my new cock as I was with his. He wasted no time in fondling it and simply grabbed me firmly in his right hand and stroked up and down vigorously.
We posed there in silence, heat penetrating the shadows, and breathed heavily as the whisks of our skin rubbing against skin set a constant rhythm. By this time my desire had largely displaced a sense of shame, and I was filled with wonder at my new lover responding hard and fast against my hand. I wondered why I had never thought to stroke another man off before, and I remembered the other men I had watched jerking off, their pink columns straining upwards as they sprayed their lust on their bellies when it could have been in my mouth…a thought I pushed aside with apprehension. Instead, I focused on the magnificent tool I was pleasuring, its steel-hard center motionless in my pistoning fist.
Soon I needed to see it come in my hands more than I had ever needed anything. I stroked him hard and he kept pace, and when he groaned and thrust up hard against my hand, the first spurt shot thick and hot up to his neck. His body arched upwards stiff and motionless like his cock, and I felt the pulses inside his massive column as he groaned in unison with the dozen spurts of thick white goo I pumped from his body. I drained him onto his chest and belly, and as he lay back he redoubled his stroking.
I moved further up his side and knelt with my cock at the level of his navel and watched him staring at my cock in his fist. His left hand cradled my balls, then roamed around my belly and chest. The call of my lust rose up my spine and I began thrusting back against his hand. “That’s it, give me your beautiful cock,” he whispered roughly, “give me your cream.” His fist gave me no relief as he stroked it like his own cock. I remembered the feel of his cock in my hand and imagined sliding it into my throat as I forced him to nurse me, and in a sudden fit of shame and lust I fell over the edge and the first stream of juice was torn out of me onto his chest and neck. Without pause or hesitation he continued stroking me and drained my flying spray of cum expertly onto both of us.
Our sperm mingled on his belly as we lay back exhausted. A slight sense of shame returned as the desire ebbed, but I knew things had changed permanently, and I was eager to explore this new world with the giant throbbing spewing column of black rigidity at its center. I continued playing with his soft cock, which even soft lolled in my hand like a firehose, and ran my fingertips through our puddles of cum. He watched me as I made him hard again, and I hardened in sympathy. I lay on my side next to him as I stroked him off again, and he crouched above me and stroked me close to another orgasm. As we stroked each other he rose above me and rubbed his cock against mine.
I held our cocks together as he thrust the soft underside of his cock against the soft underside of mine, and I watched him work himself against me like a man taking a woman, drying dribbles of cum on his belly and chest, which I reached up to smooth into his skin. I spread my legs and raised my thighs to wrap around his sweat-slick waist, and he stared into nothingness as I stared at him. He held nothing back; he thrust hard into my fist and soon groaned loudly and sprayed all over my belly, and in a few seconds my last load of the daytime mingled with his. He lay atop me and I held him with my arms and legs and sucked on his neck as our conjoined cum dried between us.
He soon raised himself off me and collapsed next to me. After a minute he said, “Okay, now that was the best time.” We slumbered for half an hour, then he woke me up and said, “We need to wipe up. Aunt Pearl will have a shit fit if she gets any idea what we did.” All we had were a couple of handkerchiefs, but most of the cum had dried. Bill said, “Let’s go to the creek to wash up.” We took a quick skinny dip and washed out our handkerchiefs, and the rest of the day passed leisurely without horniness, embarrassment, or nervousness.
That night we went to bed fairly early, exhausted by our sex and then walking around the rest of the day. After we heard Aunt Pearl making her last pass through the house before going to bed, Bill said quietly, “Damn, I’m hard again.”
“Me too.”
“I can’t sleep this hard. I just keep thinking about today.”
“Want to…?”
“Nothing to come into.”
I grunted and lay there remembering the feel of his cock in my hand. I thought back to the first time a girlfriend took me into her mouth, and remembering the incomparable pleasure of her skilled and eager mouth I thought again of my many failed self suckings. I imagined his cock thrusting forwards, outwards, looking for a home, and was seized by the same desire to feel him in my mouth and throat and suck him dry as I had felt when we drained each other by hand. I whispered, “Come here.”
“But…”
“Quiet. Come here.”
I sat up on the edge of my bed and he walked quietly up to me. I found his cock fully hard and stroked it slowly. “There’s no place to put the cum,” he said.
I said, “Yes there is,” and lowered my mouth to his throbbing cock. He gasped as my tongue circled the head, and as he stood before me in the darkness I closed my eyes and focused on the feel of the different parts of his shaft. I pulled back and took his head between my lips.
“Oh god,” he whispered. “I hoped, I dreamed, but I didn’t dare…I’ve wanted this for so long…”
I pulled away. “Shhh. Just let me feel you. I want to taste you.”
I leaned back in and softly nestled the tip of his rubbery head between my lips. Having finally decided to give in to my long-buried desire to give suck to a cock, to pleasure a man as a couple of women had taken pride in pleasuring me, of finally fully experiencing another man’s lust, that had bedeviled me from time to time since the first few times I masturbated, I ran my fingers along my new toy and swirled my tongue in the thick precum leaking into my mouth.
So often I had stared at my throbbing cock in the mirror arching up toward my hungry lips, long and thick and functionally beautiful, and I had stroked myself imagining my cock was thicker and longer and ripe for sucking, often finishing with the head of my cock a few inches from my nose shooting thick cream towards my disappointed mouth. Finally these desires had come true, and I was determined to pleasure him as if sucking myself.
I held my upper lip along the flare of his cock head as my tongue explored the furrow on the underside and licked side to side. The head fitted neatly and naturally into my mouth and throbbed slightly under my eager ministrations. I ran my fingers along the shaft and up his belly, feeling how all of his muscles seemed to converge into the pillar reaching out towards me for release. I bobbed my head to and fro, my lips curled tightly around his head and my tongue relentlessly circling the heated flesh seeking it. After a minute I allowed more of his flesh entry and used my lips to hold his velvety skin in place as I moved it up and down his quivering rod. Often he would breath out raggedly as a tremor pushed another drop of brackish cream into my mouth, and I swirled it around his head and swallowed.
He put his hands on my head and pushed forward. I chuckled silently and opened wide as he held my head in place and stroked slowly but forcefully two inches forward and backward against my circling tongue. I held his hips as he began breathing more quickly, and slowly I worked him in further. I held my tongue firm against the underside and felt the different textures of the underside of the head and the sliding skin of the shaft as I allowed it to slowly work its way into the more sensitive parts of my mouth.
For the next fifteen minutes I saw nothing and heard little; my mind was focused on every quivering response and brackish seepage from the tip as I worked him into the back of my mouth. I could feel the tremors in his hips as my mouth pleasured his loins, and his cock throbbed rhythmically under my greedy tongue. My fascination with his throbbing shaft had only intensified from the day, and I felt even more intimately what I had explored so fully in the light. I heard his hushed fevered breathing and reached up with my left hand to feel the muscles of his belly tautening and relaxing. Each quiet gasp led me to stroke his shaft tightly with my right hand, and I pledged to myself I would take his entire shaft into my throat by the end of our stay. Until I had worked up to that, however, I would enjoy pleasuring the lower reaches of his shaft with my hand.
My jaw soon tired from having to hold itself so wide open, so I held the head in the back of my mouth and stroked the shaft more rapidly. His breath rushed as I pleasured him in silence; the top of his shaft was stuck firmly inside my mouth and twitched bewitchingly. The head, nestled between my adenoids, swelled and his shaft pulsed rhythmically, and I was soon rewarded with a massive spurt shooting out like the salt-sour filling of some premium chocolate into the back of my throat. I began swallowing as Bill spewed seven spurts of juice into me and groaned quietly as I drained the rest of him with my lips.
