Have you ever wondered how a man can accidentally become a cocksucker? By that, you should not include an experience where a man and a friend sat at home on a Friday night, drinking beer, watching porn and going down on each other. Although, that is how it started out. The story you are about to read is my true experience.

A few years ago, my friend and his wife would come to my family's home on Friday nights. We usually ordered pizza, barbecued something, or just cooked whatever we wanted at the time. Naturally, beer was a staple item.

This particular Friday night, they had visited, as they often did. Only the main reason was that he was helping me clean out the plethora of junk that had managed to clutter the attic over the years. By the time we decided to stop, we had been drinking quite a bit. It was late on a summer Georgia night. We sat on the carport, talking and drinking. In time, my wife had gone to bed. His wife hung out with us for a while and finally went inside where she passed out in the living room floor.

I cannot remember every detail, but I certainly remember more than I let on later. The part that I truly do not remember is how the conversation turned to his wife giving him a blowjob. “I would get Shelly to suck my dick on the way home if she weren't passed out.” I do recall him saying something like that. I do not remember how it turned into two married men, shirtless and in shorts, sitting on the carport in a North Atlanta suburb, saying, “I will if you will.” But that's about what he offered.

I agreed, but I really did not think that he would. I stood up, stepped up to his chair, and dropped my shorts. He looked at my dick for a moment before he grabbed it and put it in his mouth. I was not hard at the time but gradually became erect as he sucked it. He only sucked me for a minute or so. Not nearly long enough for me to get off. Then he sat back and said, “Your turn.”

What was I to do? I did not bother to pull up my shorts. I just stepped out of them and knelt between his legs. He lifted up just enough to get his pants down. His member was already standing at full attention. I looked at it for a few minutes. I finally reached out to take it in my hand and stroked it for a moment. When I looked up at him, he simply said, “Go ahead. I did.”

He was right. He did and I did agree. It felt a bit strange when he warm phallus passed between my lips and into my mouth. I started sucking him just like how I like it--my hand following my mouth and my tongue massaging the underside of his head. I am sure that I sucked longer than he did. He was quietly moaning. I wondered if I should stop right then, but chose to give it a little more effort. He was, after all, my best friend and he was enjoying it.

A few more moments, the pulsing of the head, and I suddenly felt the rush and tasted the salty yet bland flavor of his sperm. I stood up, walked to the edge of the carport and spat it out. A mouthful of beer became a mouth rinse.

After that night, things were awkward between us. We did not really talk and they stopped coming to visit on Friday nights. I can totally understand why. What happened between us should never have happened.

In spite of my wife asking when they would come again, I managed to put it off. It would seem that his wife was also giving him grief about it. Finally, the girls decided to set it up so that they would again visit. As I said before, it was awkward. He and I both tried to act naturally. In time, the beer supply ran low and the girls sent him and me off to the store to get more. He drove while I sat in the passenger's seat in strange silence.

Finally, he said, “Man, I am sorry about what happened.”

I told him that it was fine. In fact, I really did not mind it so much. As it turns out, we were feeling strangely for different reasons. He felt odd because he let me suck his dick to completion. I felt weird because I did not mind it. In fact, I actually liked it. He, on the other hand, was repulsed by having cock in his mouth.

He went into the store for the beer while I sat in the car with a freshly lit cigarette. When he came back, he jokingly said, “I have to admit, it was better than my wife does.”

“Really?” I said. “I can't imagine that. I had never done it before. Maybe because I was trying to mimic what I like.”

“You said you didn't mind it. Did you mean that?”

“I did mean it,” I replied.

Jokingly, he said, “Want to do it again?”

“Sure, if you want to,” I told him.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. Really,” I assured him.

He decided to pull into the car wash. There were two cars in front of us. As we waited our turn, he pulled his shorts aside, exposing his dick and discreetly took my hand and put it over his soft member. A car pulled up behind us, but they could not tell what was going on. We were sure of that. I played with his balls and stroked his cock. He was very hard and ready to get it done when it came our turn to drive into the automatic car wash. When he put the money into the control box, he paid for the extra long wash and wax cycles.

When the water starting soaping up the car and the rear window was sufficiently covered, he put his hand behind my head and lowered me down. I held his erect cock and put it straight into my mouth and sucked as I did before. The angle of the underside of the head was a bit off since I was in a seat next to him instead of straight in front. But I massaged it with my tongue as best as I could while turning my head back and forth and bobbing up and down as I sucked. Again, he exploded a load of sperm into my mouth.

The plan was not well thought out. I had a mouthful of his cum and nowhere to spit as the water continued to hit the car from all sides. I had no choice but to swallow it. It was equally strange to me to swallow his load the second time as it was for him to ejaculate in my mouth the first time.

The car wash ended and he was satisfied. On the way back to my house, he told me that it was a real turn-on that I swallowed it. He was also turned on the first time when I knelt down, naked in front of him. I did not try to act manly, using the 'no place to spit' as a rebuttal. Instead, I told him the truth. It was weird, but it was a rush too.

The awkwardness was gone between us. Additionally, so were his inhibitions. Being sucked off by me, it seems, was equally desirable to having sex with his wife. She would do it for him, but he figured out that she did not really like to do it. So it was rather mechanical. However, I actually enjoyed it. As it turns out, he not only liked my blowjobs, but he liked the control that he had.

He respected my limits, of course. He was, first and foremost, my friend. In time, he would do more than just sit there and get his rocks off. He found places to go and wanted me to undress in front of him. Sometimes, he would just stand there, putting a little pressure on top of my head to tell me to go to my knees. Other times, he made me stay naked and wait for him to use me.

Although he usually wanted to be sucked off, he would sometimes have me stroke him off, or just stay in whatever position he wanted me in waiting for him to jack off on me, usually in my face, or he would tell me to open my mouth. Whatever he asked for, I did for him. I had become his personal cocksucker.

A couple of times, we went to breakfast at a local restaurant. Before we got there, he would go to the park and we would walk up the trail. He was looking for a place to hide long enough. After finding such a place, he told me to strip. Of course, I did. Licking his balls and member was a great way to get him rock-hard. He had me get on my hands and knees, facing away from him. He pulled his pants down enough to kneel behind me and rub his dick on my ass as he jacked off. The feeling of his warm semen shooting onto my ass was kind of nice. But he wasn't done. He would put it in my mouth to clean it. Afterwards, he would not let me clean it off. I had to get dressed with his cum back there. In time, it turned sticky. While we went to breakfast or walked, he knew that I was feeling it.

We had a lot of time together until life turned us into different directions. After almost two years of serving him, he took a job far away. We kept in touch for a while, but in time, we lost contact. Now I am divorced and really wish I could find a middle-aged guy, preferably married, to come to me in the north Atlanta 'burbs. I miss being the slut in a man's life. There were so many unusual ways he “made” me service him. I miss that too.