He had noticed it about a year ago. Stroking off, watching porn, all of a sudden he found himself realizing that he was watching those massive thick cocks as much -- or more -- than he was the scrawny blondes with bad plastic surgery and overblown implants. He tried to time his ejaculations with their cumshots -- big ropy white blasts of gooey cum. It made him so hard. Free movie clips on the internet of blowjobs and facials filled his hard drive . . . and they were all chosen based on the cocks. The length, the girth, the color, the texture, the big fat heads and the narrow conical ones that were made for penetrating. The curved ones, the shaven ones. He was cock obsessed.
He remebered the first night he went into a chat room and pretended he was a girl. He didn't want to feel 'gay' -- but he needed more out of his blowjob fantasies . . . Maybe those nameless people knew he was a guy, maybe they just didn't care. Neither did he. He started fantasizing about it soon after . . . not some nameles her sucking him, but HIM sucking THEM . . . or more importantly IT. The first time he lay in bed and stroked his cock imagining it he shot a load so big that it splashed all over his chest and even his chin. It felt good.
He never pretended to be a girl anymore online. He was no longer fantasizing. He was searching. He thought it was because he was lonely, but even after he started dating -- and fucking -- the Dark-Haired Girl he still wanted it. As she knelt in front of him, licking his shaft up and down, taking his hairy balls into her mouth, sucking him deep and holding her breath as she swallowed him down he was always thinking in his head how he would do it differently -- better. Then she went away for the weekend.
He knew who it was going to be. They had met in a chat room and graduated to IM. A guy his age, from the next town over. Openly bisexual, tantalizingly experienced, deviously encouraging. The chatting had been hot, fun, exciting. And the pictures . . . seven or eight inches at least, a beautiful healthy dark pink, cut with a perfect arrow shaped head. It curved downward, which he thought would be helpful. It looked so good.
He made the offer. I'm ready. I want to. Let's do this. Internet Boy was happy to oblige . . . meet me at my place after work. We'll talk a little, have a couple beers. Yeah, right.
He got to IB's apartment complex early and sat in his car. Nervous. REALLY nervous. He called the cell number. I'm here.
He walked up the steps.
Knocked on the door.
The face that answered was the same as the pictures. Thank God.
They sat on the couch. IB put on some porn. Not the crappy pro stuff. Amateur. Two guys and a girl. Average and normal looking in a hotel room. The two guys on the TV were over each other as much as the girl . . . and the girl was INTO IT. So into it.
He was suddenly aware of the silence. They sat on the couch side by side, both in jeans and polo shirts. IB looked at him and knew he was nervous. He realized that he probably had the same look on his face that the Freckled Girl from sophmore biology did that first afternoon in his bedroom with no one home. IB unzipped his jeans. The man reached into IB's jeans and his shaky fingers found it. Warm to the touch. Semi-hard. Fuck, it is really big. Huge. Fuck yeah size matters. He could feel his own cock swelling. He got down on his knees as IB stood and pulled his jeans and boxers down. "Are you sure you want to go first?" He saw the hanging shaft dangling inches from his face and he knew that he was. He couldn't look away from that long, thick hunk of meat. He was so fixated that he almost forgot completely that there was a person attached to it.
IB sat. He took that massive cock in his hand and slowly licked it from the base to the tip. It felt good. The cock got harder and harder in his hand and IB let out a barely audible and appreciative groan. "That's good." He placed one hand on each of IB's thighs and took the head into his mouth. I have a cock in my mouth. I have a mans hard, pulsing, gorgeous cock in my mouth. Swirling his tongue around the head he knew what he wanted to do right away. No foreplay. He forced his face down onto the rigid shaft. Taking inch by inch by inch into his mouth. He came up for air. He had barely taken half. He wanted more. He went down again, feeling it enter his throat. IB moaned "Good. Aww man good." The encouragement fired him up. Fuck. I want it all. He pushed further and further until he coughed. They both laughed.
He was so in touch with his senses. He looked at the glistening hard cock still fully erect and pointing straight up at the ceiling. He remembered the feel in his mouth. He remembered the scent of a man. He reached for it again hungrily. Going wild now. Squeezing the shaft with his hand as he bobbed his head up and down on IB's fat dick. Damn, there was something hypnotic about a long, fat, throbbing cock. IB's hand rested gently on his head, as his hips began to rock gently. He looked up and couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. "Fuck my mouth."
They both ripped their clothes off in a hurried rush. He lay down on his back on the carpet and IB straddled his face. IB leaned forward, resting his hands on the couch. He grasped IB's ass cheeks with both hands as IB's hips began to work his huge rod in and out of the man's mouth. It was incredible feeling the thick shaft sliding and gliding over his tongue and against the inside of his cheeks.
They rolled over and he got on top as IB rested his back against the couch in a sitting position. He grasped that massive cock in his hands and stared at it. Then he attacked it again. Milking it with his hand as he pounded it into his mouth. "Oh man, fuck, I'm going to cummmm." "Dude, I want to swallow you." IB's dick was harder than anything he could imagine in his hand. He enveloped it whole -- sucking it in the most whorish, pornographic way that he could.
An explosion of hot saltiness erupted into his mouth. Spurting again and again . . . and again. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before swallowing it down. He pulled the monster dick out of his mouth as a final spurt shot out, splashing his face. "Fuck." "Yeah." "Wow." . . .
There will be more.
He remebered the first night he went into a chat room and pretended he was a girl. He didn't want to feel 'gay' -- but he needed more out of his blowjob fantasies . . . Maybe those nameless people knew he was a guy, maybe they just didn't care. Neither did he. He started fantasizing about it soon after . . . not some nameles her sucking him, but HIM sucking THEM . . . or more importantly IT. The first time he lay in bed and stroked his cock imagining it he shot a load so big that it splashed all over his chest and even his chin. It felt good.
He never pretended to be a girl anymore online. He was no longer fantasizing. He was searching. He thought it was because he was lonely, but even after he started dating -- and fucking -- the Dark-Haired Girl he still wanted it. As she knelt in front of him, licking his shaft up and down, taking his hairy balls into her mouth, sucking him deep and holding her breath as she swallowed him down he was always thinking in his head how he would do it differently -- better. Then she went away for the weekend.
He knew who it was going to be. They had met in a chat room and graduated to IM. A guy his age, from the next town over. Openly bisexual, tantalizingly experienced, deviously encouraging. The chatting had been hot, fun, exciting. And the pictures . . . seven or eight inches at least, a beautiful healthy dark pink, cut with a perfect arrow shaped head. It curved downward, which he thought would be helpful. It looked so good.
He made the offer. I'm ready. I want to. Let's do this. Internet Boy was happy to oblige . . . meet me at my place after work. We'll talk a little, have a couple beers. Yeah, right.
He got to IB's apartment complex early and sat in his car. Nervous. REALLY nervous. He called the cell number. I'm here.
He walked up the steps.
Knocked on the door.
The face that answered was the same as the pictures. Thank God.
They sat on the couch. IB put on some porn. Not the crappy pro stuff. Amateur. Two guys and a girl. Average and normal looking in a hotel room. The two guys on the TV were over each other as much as the girl . . . and the girl was INTO IT. So into it.
He was suddenly aware of the silence. They sat on the couch side by side, both in jeans and polo shirts. IB looked at him and knew he was nervous. He realized that he probably had the same look on his face that the Freckled Girl from sophmore biology did that first afternoon in his bedroom with no one home. IB unzipped his jeans. The man reached into IB's jeans and his shaky fingers found it. Warm to the touch. Semi-hard. Fuck, it is really big. Huge. Fuck yeah size matters. He could feel his own cock swelling. He got down on his knees as IB stood and pulled his jeans and boxers down. "Are you sure you want to go first?" He saw the hanging shaft dangling inches from his face and he knew that he was. He couldn't look away from that long, thick hunk of meat. He was so fixated that he almost forgot completely that there was a person attached to it.
IB sat. He took that massive cock in his hand and slowly licked it from the base to the tip. It felt good. The cock got harder and harder in his hand and IB let out a barely audible and appreciative groan. "That's good." He placed one hand on each of IB's thighs and took the head into his mouth. I have a cock in my mouth. I have a mans hard, pulsing, gorgeous cock in my mouth. Swirling his tongue around the head he knew what he wanted to do right away. No foreplay. He forced his face down onto the rigid shaft. Taking inch by inch by inch into his mouth. He came up for air. He had barely taken half. He wanted more. He went down again, feeling it enter his throat. IB moaned "Good. Aww man good." The encouragement fired him up. Fuck. I want it all. He pushed further and further until he coughed. They both laughed.
He was so in touch with his senses. He looked at the glistening hard cock still fully erect and pointing straight up at the ceiling. He remembered the feel in his mouth. He remembered the scent of a man. He reached for it again hungrily. Going wild now. Squeezing the shaft with his hand as he bobbed his head up and down on IB's fat dick. Damn, there was something hypnotic about a long, fat, throbbing cock. IB's hand rested gently on his head, as his hips began to rock gently. He looked up and couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. "Fuck my mouth."
They both ripped their clothes off in a hurried rush. He lay down on his back on the carpet and IB straddled his face. IB leaned forward, resting his hands on the couch. He grasped IB's ass cheeks with both hands as IB's hips began to work his huge rod in and out of the man's mouth. It was incredible feeling the thick shaft sliding and gliding over his tongue and against the inside of his cheeks.
They rolled over and he got on top as IB rested his back against the couch in a sitting position. He grasped that massive cock in his hands and stared at it. Then he attacked it again. Milking it with his hand as he pounded it into his mouth. "Oh man, fuck, I'm going to cummmm." "Dude, I want to swallow you." IB's dick was harder than anything he could imagine in his hand. He enveloped it whole -- sucking it in the most whorish, pornographic way that he could.
An explosion of hot saltiness erupted into his mouth. Spurting again and again . . . and again. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before swallowing it down. He pulled the monster dick out of his mouth as a final spurt shot out, splashing his face. "Fuck." "Yeah." "Wow." . . .
There will be more.
