Paperboy

[Kenunow]

I really hated delivering newspapers after school when I was growing up. The worst part was trying to collect from my customers who were never home during the afternoon. I would generally have to go out on my bicycle on Saturday to collect, which took a few hours out of my day. There was this one particular customer, who never seemed to be home, who owed me for several months of newspapers. Rumors had run rampant about Mr. Terrell who had moved in about a 6 month earlier. There was no Mrs. Terrell and some gossip had stated that he was gay. The guys on my school bus would talk about him, calling him a fag and cocksucker. I laughed along, but inside, I started to be curious about Mr. Terrell.

Despite my leaving notes at his door, I never could catch him at home. His bill was up to $15.00, which was a small fortune back then. I decided one Friday night during the summer that I would ride my bike the 3 miles over to his house and wait for him to get home from work. His house was set back from the road, secluded on a wooded lot. As I rode up his long driveway, I noticed a car I had never seen before parked up by the garage. I got off my bike and went to the front door and rang the doorbell. It was humid and I was sweating a little from my ride. No answer. I could hear noise from inside, so I knew he was in there. I rang it again. Still no answer. Finally, I banged on the door with my fist several times. After a minute, the door quickly opened. To my surprise, there stood Mr. Terrell in just his underwear and socks. His manly muscular body was tan and covered by dark hair. He was wearing dark socks, white briefs, and an athletic shirt. He was a sight to behold. My mouth went dry. He seemed a litte annoyed at first, but after his eyes checked me out, his facial expression changed and he politely said "Hello" with a slight smile.

I fumbled for my words, but eventually got my words out as to why I was at his front door. As I did, I know my eyes glanced down to catch a glimpse of what looked to be a sizeable bulge in his tight briefs. I quickly looked away, not wanting him to see me looking, but knew he caught me looking. He apologized for not responding to my notes. He then invited me to step into his foyer as his a/c was on. I stepped in and the cooler air felt good on my warm body. He shut the front door and began apologized for answering the door in his underwear. He said he had just gotten home from work when he heard my pounding. I then began to apologize for banging so hard on his front door. He said it was okay, to follow him into his kitchen.

He offerred me a drink of water, which I accepted. I was really nervous and my mouth was incredibly dry. He told me to take a seat as he walked over to the kitchen sink to fill a glass. As he did, I looked around his kitchen. Then I saw it. Hanging on the wall leading to the hallway were 3 black and white photos. They weren't porngraphic, but definitely had nudity. My eyes were fixated on them, having not noticed them when I walked by them. Mr. Terrell came back and handed me the glass of water. He then said he would go upstairs to get his checkbook.

In his absence, I stood up to get a closer look at the 3 photos. One showed a close up of two abdomens pressed together, their pubic hair touching, with just the fold above their cock showing. The second another close up of two men, from waist to upper thigh, pressed tightly together, again with just a hint of cock showing from the guy facing forward. The third was another close up of two cheeks and lips, both with slight razor stubble, in a deep passionate kiss.

I could feel that twinge in my balls as I stared at them. They were artistic, but clearly homoerotic. My mind began to race. I had thought about Mr. Terrell after hearing the rumors. I had stroked my cock thinking about meeting him. I guess the rumors were true. Now, here I was, standing in his home, staring at gay art, with him upstairs in his underwear. Thoughts and images raced through my brain as my eyes moving back and forth between the three photos.

I didn't hear Mr. Terrell come from upstairs and startled a little when I heard him say "there you are." He had caught me staring at his wall photos. I turned, feeling my face get hot with embarrassment trying to come up with an explanation. He walked over, looked at the photos, then looked at me directly in the eyes and asked "do you like them?"

I said that I wasn't sure what they were, so I took a closer look. I took a gulp of water to wet my bone dry mouth. He then asked, "well, what do you think?" I told him I thought they were "cool." He smiled. Again, I saw him look me up and down. It wasn't even subtle this time. I glanced down and despite having gone upstairs for his checkbook, he returned in just his underwear. Clearly, the bulge in his white briefs was getting bigger, my eyes darting back and forth, taking in glimpses of his chest, legs, bulge, lips, and eyes. "Just cool, huh?" he said. He then said he had others upstairs that might be even "cooler" if I wanted to see them. Nerves got the better of me and I started to make excuses as to not needing to go look at them. He then interjected, "nah, come on, your here, come take a look, will take just a minute." I was too nervous to object as he led the way to his stairs. I went up the stairway first to the landing, where he brushed by me, to lead the way. As he did, he turned to the side, and I felt his stiffening cock brush the top of my thigh.

We walked into his bedroom which was adorned by 8 black and white photos of much more explicit scenes. The first picture showed two torsos, one bent over, the other behind, clearly fucking the other. Again, I felt my face getting hot as I became super nervous. The second photo wasn't homoerotic, it was porngraphic. It was a close up of a guy's lips wrapped around a man's cock. My mind was swirling. Mr. Terrell said that he had purchased them all from an artist in NYC. He stood in the middle of the room as he directed me to each of the photos, detailing why he liked that particular photo. My mind was overwhelmed not only visually, but by the thought of where I was, and what I was doing. As he spoke, I glanced over and looked at Mr. Terrell. His cock was pressing firmly against the fabric of his white briefs, his cockhead clearly outlined. I got to the last photo and blurted out "wow, super amazing." It was a close up photo of a well worn jockstrap bulge, with a guy's mouth latching on to the bulge fabric.

Mr. Terrell came up from behind me and put his hand on my shoulder, exclaiming that it was one of his favorites. As he did, he moved closer to me, his stiffness pressed slightly against my butt. It felt like forever, but eventually, he moved around to the front of me, his hand still on my shoulder. I looked away from the photo, my eyes meeting his. It was like a flash of unspoken communication.

He leaned over and kissed me. I was surprised and pulled away, taking a step back. I started to fumble for my words, when he again pulled me closer, planting his lips on mine. I could feel his whiskers against my upper lip. Then, I felt his tongue against my lips. My mind was racing, I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I opened my mouth ever so slightly and his tongue poured into my mouth, exploring it, rolling over my own tongue, pressing my tongue down. He pulled me closer to him. His hand now at the back of my neck, holding my head in place as his tongue tasted every inch of my mouth. His mouth moved down across my neck, his facial stubble felt like sandpaper against my skin. He devoured my neck, holding my head as he alternated between my neck and mouth with his tongue and lips. I noticed I began to use my tongue each time he entered my mouth. I wanted to taste him, feel his tongue with mine. He directed my mouth to his neck where I explored with my own mouth and tongue, coming back occasionally to taste his mouth. As I did, I felt his hand running up and down my back, then my chest, then feeling for my nipples. My nipples were hard. He reached up under my shirt to feel them, slightly pinching them.

Before I could object, he reached down and pulled my tee-shirt up and over my head. He leaned over and began licking and kissing my nips. I know I moaned a little, which probably gave him the affirmation that I liked what was happening. He kissed me even harder as his hand found my hand and he directed it to his massive bulge. He pressed my hand against his bulge, he was so hard, I could feel his shaft under the fabric. I rubbed my hands over him, groping, trying to feel his cock through his underwear. His hand returned to mine, and he slipped both under the waistband of his briefs. My hand felt his shaft, moved upward to his cockhead. I began to gently stroke him up and down, our lips still together. His cock got even harder, as I slipped my hand downward to cup his balls. His nutsack felt huge in my hand, his balls were big and his scrotum was loose. He pulled his lips away from mine. Looking deep into my eyes he asked "do you want to suck my cock?" I said yes.

He moved us over to his bed. He removed his tee-shirt, then his briefs, as he sat down on the bed. He pulled me towards him as he opened his legs. I looked down and saw his cock for the first time. He probably 7 inches, thick, cut, bushy dark pubic hair. He said to go ahead and kneel down, which I did. He directed my head towards his erect cock. Pulling me closer and closer, I could smell his manscent. His cockhead now pressed against my lips. I opened my mouth and slide my mouth down over Mr. Terrell's cock. I gagged as it hit the back of my throat. My tongue began to swirl around his thick shaft. He held my head in one of his hands, but didn't need to direct me anymore. I began to do the work of a good cocksucker. I licked his balls, tasting a days worth of salty sweat, my tongue racing up and down his shaft, occasionally, swirling my tongue around his cockhead. It wasn't long before my tongue tasted his sweet pre-cum. It tasted so good, my focus turned to his cockhead with my mouth as my one hand gripped the shaft of his manhood. I began stroking his cock as my mouth went up and down, my lips wrapped tighter around him.

My mind wandered for a split second back to my school bus and the guys calling Mr. Terrell a fag, laughing about him. What would they think of me if the saw me on my knees, Mr. Terrell's cock down my throat? I didn't care. I wanted his cock there, because I loved the feeling, the taste, the situation. I tightened my grip, I sped up my stroking, my tongue feverishly swirling around his cockhead. I instinctively knew what I was doing. I wanted it. I wanted Mr. Terrell to cum in my mouth. I needed to taste his cum, my first taste of man cum. I focused, one hand gripped his cock, the other gripping his balls, my head buried in his crotch.

I felt his cock stiffen, I heard him moan, I could feel the contractions of his nuts. I took him deep in my mouth as he exploded his first shot of cum into my mouth and throat. He jerked, his hand pushed my mouth further down onto his cock as he exploded a second load, then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. My mouth was full of his hot cum. I slowly pulled off of him as his grip on my head eased up. He was spent. I swirled his cum in my mouth, tasting it's unique salty, yet creaminess, it's thickness rolling across my tongue. Then, like a good cocksucker, I swallowed his load.

I got got up and laid down next to Mr. Terrell. His breathing was slowing, his erection subsiding, sweat was on his chest and brow. It seemed like forever before he spoke. He said "damn, I needed that, thank you." He did the usual follow up questions, and expressed concern about privacy and not wanting anyone to find out. I too didn't want anyone to find out. Before he got up, he rolled over and planted his lips to mine. It was gentle. He stood up to put his underwear back on. As he put on his tee-shirt, I scooped up my shirt and his briefs. I told him I want his briefs. I wanted to wear them, smell them. He laughed and obliged me. He eventually wrote out a check for the newspapers with a nice tip. As he handed me the check he smiled and said to come collecting more often.

"He's such a fag!" one of the boys on the bus exclaimed. They were at it again, making fun of Mr. Terrell. I didn't join in, I stared out the school bus window, I had my own thoughts about Mr. Terrell now, with my own cock and balls warmly wrapped up in his white briefs.

 

[Louieboots]

That was a wicked hot memory