Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

You pressed on your dick again.

I stood up and walked toward you. "Do you want me to suck your dick, Ryan?" I asked, my voice low and almost a moan.

"I don't know," you said. You were lying. You knew. You straightened and stood so that I knew you knew.

We were face to face, each of us at or near six feet tall. I moved my head toward you. I intended to kiss you. You turned your head at the last minute, giving me your cheek. I was disappointed, but I didn't show it. Instead, I kissed your cheek and then your neck. You tasted clean, like the body wash in my shower smelled.

I pressed my erection to yours and started to lift your shirt.

"No," you said. "Leave it on. I'm embarrassed. I have a dad bod."

"Makes sense," I thought. "You are, after all, a dad. Many many times."

I slipped my hands into the back of your shorts. I gripped and squeezed both globes and then pulled your erection harder into mine.

"Unless you tell me to stop, I'm going to suck your dick now," I whispered into your ear, my voice again nothing more than a low moan.

I knew you weren't going to tell me to stop, your "leave it on" a confirmation of what you signaled by straightening and standing.

I kneeled in front of you. I pulled your shorts out and down, freeing your erection. "Step," I said, so I could remove your shorts completely. You did, your hands covering your eyes, as if you couldn't bear to see what I was about to do to you.

You erection was great. You had a bell-shaped head. You thickened in the middle and then thinned a little at the base. You curved slightly to the right.

I buried you in my throat. I didn't want to fuck around with nibbles and kisses.

You filled my mouth and my throat. You were big enough and thick enough to be fun, but not so big or so thick as to be awkward or uncomfortable.

I knew how to suck you. I used my saliva to get you juicy wet. Not sloppy wet, just juicy wet.

"Oh my God," you hissed from above, my nose again in your dark curls.

I worked you with my mouth and my throat. I used my hands on your hips to move you in rhythm with me. I wanted you to fuck my face, but I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to risk breaking the spell.

When you started to match my rhythm, I moved my right hand to your scrotum, tickling and tugging the way I liked to have mine tickled and tugged.

I kept my eyes on your face. Your hands remained over your eyes.

"Look at me, Ryan," I said during my first break. "Watch me suck you."

You moved your hands and looked down. With my eyes locked on yours, I took you down my throat.

We were immediately back in rhythm.

"You can talk or moan or make noise if you want," I said, during my second break as I worked my jaw loose again.

"I don't really do that," you answered. "But, you're really good at that," you added. "Really, really good."

"Thank you," I said. "Like I said, I love doing it, and your dick is perfect."

I took you back into my mouth. For the first time, you used your hands on my head. Between the slurping and the thrusting, the blow job got pretty intense and raunchy, the sound of gagging and slurping filling the room.

When I could see the pleasure washing over your face, I added my hand to your shaft and used as much suction as I could.

"Oh…. Oh," you said. I knew it was the only warning I was going to get. I didn't heed the warning. I wanted it all.

Without another sound, you flinched and came, shot after shot coating my tongue. I swallowed and swallowed, not wanting any of you to seep out. I continued to suck as I did. I loved sucking guys into the abyss.

You doubled over, your stomach covering my head.

I kept sucking.

I followed you as you leaned against the edge of the bed and slid down onto the floor, my mouth chasing your flagging erection and then finding your scrotum, the crevice where your hips joined your legs, and the sensitive, soft skin of your inner thigh.

I knew this was a crucial moment. In prior experiences, this was the moment where the straight realized what happened, became disgusted by it, diverted his eyes, and cut and ran.

You did none of those thing. Instead, you extolled.

"Oh my God," you said, when I finally stopped and was seated in front of you, the taste of your cum still in my mouth, my smiling matching yours. "That was literally mind numbing. I can't think. I might black out."

"So, it was good?" I asked, knowing the answer from the expression that remained on your face.

"So good," you answered. "I had no idea. I've been blown before, but never like that. It literally curled my toes. I'm wrecked."

"I'm glad you liked it," I said, making it all about you.

"Liked it?" you asked, chuckling. "I fucking loved it. No one has ever sucked me like that. Ever."

"Women don't know how to suck dick," I said. "For them, it's a chore. For me, it's a dream."

"I felt like you were making love to my dick," you said, which is exactly how I had wanted you to feel. "Like you were worshipping it."

"I was," I confirmed. "So," I asked, changing the subject, "you okay with what happened? Feeling alright about it?"

"I feel like I always do, after I cheat," you said.

I wanted to ask you how often you cheated, but it was none of my business.

"You don't feel differently?" I asked, "That you cheated with a man, I mean?"

"I don't," you answered. "I expected to, but I don't."

I wasn't surprised. You probably would have if you had allowed me to kiss you or if you had touched me, but you hadn't.

Still, I was relieved. You indifference suggested this would not be, in Evita's lyric, "a frantic tumble and a shy goodbye."

"You must think I'm an ass," you said. "I mean, stepping out with a pregnant wife at home."

"I don't think any such thing," I answered. "One, I don't know your story. For all I know, this is all within the bounds of what is allowed." I knew it wasn't. You had used the word "cheat."

"Two," I continued. "I don't think the way most people think. I mean, sex can just be sex, like any other human interaction. It doesn't have to 'mean' anything. Or, it can be sacrosanct, to be enjoyed only with a vowed partner. Or, it can be both, depending on the date and time. It is, as they say, relative."

"I think so, too," you said. "My wife does not."

I just looked at you. You filled the silence. "She doesn't much care for sex those days. She likes being pregnant, so we are soon going to have five kids. But, other than to procreate, we don't do much. She doesn't want me. Not anymore."

"You don't have explain yourself to me," I assured. "I'm a safe space. No judgment."

"Whatever we do is transactional. There's no passion. If I didn't cheat, I'd never get impassioned."

"Like I said," I assured again. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm a safe space. No judgment."

You started again. I stopped you.

"I'm not a therapist," I said, moving toward my jeans. "I should go."

You stood and moved between me and the door. Tentatively, you said, "You don't have to, yet, if you don't want to. I'll stop talking."

I decided it was time to press the issue. "If I stay," I said, "I'm going to need to take care of this." I pointed to my dick, which was still hard.

"That's cool," you said. "I'll watch, if that's okay."

"It's okay with me if it's okay with you," I answered.

I pulled my briefs down and stepped out of them. I settled back onto the bed and started playing with myself, first by running my thumb through what was leaking out of me.

You were rapt, watching me, standing beside the bed.

"Get comfortable," I said, patting the bed next to me. You were already starting to get hard again.

I cupped my testicles in my left hand and started stroking my erection with my right. Sucking your dick had really turned me on, so it was not going to take much to get me off.

"Can I try?" you asked, surprising me.

"Sure," I said, pulling my hands back and putting them behind my head.

You leaned on your left elbow, took me in your right hand, and started stroking me.

Your grip was strong, a little too strong.

"Relax a little," I encouraged. You did.

"How is it?" I asked.

"Cool," you said, using a second time an odd word for that moment. "Like mine, but not."

I wanted your mouth on me. I wanted you to taste me.

I thought of pushing your head toward me. But, I didn't want to push you to do something you didn't want to do. I decided to bide my time, hoping you would choose to use your mouth and enjoying the long, tight strokes in the meantime.

You adjusted so that your head was closer. I was certain you were going to do it.

"You can taste me, if you want," I said, keeping the ball totally in your court.

"I don't know," you said softly as you moved slowly toward what we both now knew you were going to do.

You licked the tip. Then again. I moaned and raised my hips. I wanted to let you know I liked it and that I wanted more.

You audibly exhaled. You softly said, "I can't believe I'm going to do this." You opened your mouth and tentatively took the head of my erection in. I was delirious.

Unlike in every story out there, you were not a natural first time cocksucker. No one is. Like everyone taking a dick for the first time, you were tentative and toothy. You were dry and a little disinterested.

"How is it?" I asked, the first time you pulled off to wipe your mouth.

"I don't know," you said. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be, but it's more difficult than I expected. How is it for you? Am I terrible?"

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Sure," you answered.

I spread my legs. "Kneel here," I said, nodding to the area between my legs. "Generate a lot of saliva. You need to soak my dick with it, wet but not sloppy. Hold the shaft with your right hand. Suck only what your hand doesn't cover."