“The first time you do it is the best,” Greg said. “My first time, I just looked at it, this guy’s cock. I just knew I had to do it. I always had that curiosity. I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted to know what it was like….”
We were sitting on the couch. My couch, my house. Home alone. Our wives were out for the evening.
“You can’t understand what it’s like until you try it,” he added with a meaningful smile.
Shadows danced on the wall of the living-room. The TV was on but I’d muted the volume. I hadn’t turned the light on.
“If you just did it once,” he said more slowly, “If you tried it, you’d love it. Trust me.”
It was 9:00pm on a wet Wednesday evening in late July. Outside it was already getting dark. Inside the concealing shadows seemed to gather softly around us.
The light from the TV flickered on Greg’s face. His eyes were in shadow one moment, then I’d see them shining with an intense, eager light. We’d known each other for years.
I knew what he wanted; he wanted a blow-job. He’d steered the conversation in that direction. It was my own fault; a couple of weeks ago I’d admitted to him over a few drinks that the thought of it interested me. Greg wasn’t the type to forget something like that.
“Why do you think women love it so much?” he said. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever done before. Nothing else even comes close.”
His smile had faded. His voice had softened and there was something new in his tone. He looked and sounded like a guy who knew he was close to getting what he wanted. I’d been letting him do all the talking and Greg loved to talk. I was the quiet one.
He said he’d blown a guy once, a few years ago, and the guy hadn’t reciprocated. Ever since then he’d wanted to know how it felt. To hear him talk it was bordering on an obsession. I’d thought about it myself, too. I think a lot of guys do.
“Just try it this one time,” he said, and now there was an unmistakable undercurrent of excitement in his voice. “No one will ever know. It’s just the two of us. You said you’d thought about it, now’s your chance…”
Just then my glance happened to fall on the front of his jeans and something turned over inside me when I saw the shape of his cock showing through the material.
Greg was becoming aroused. He was getting hard. Talking about it was turning him on. The shadows from the TV flickered everywhere and now and then as the light changed I could see the growing bulge in his jeans. I could see the thick shape of his cock starting to make a tent in the material.
I looked up quickly and he was watching me and my face suddenly felt hot. Greg didn’t blink. He held my gaze and I saw the longing in his eyes. Hope, desire, all of it. He smiled a little but it was a tense, preoccupied sort of smile, as if a part of him still wasn’t sure how it would all turn out.
Greg had deliberately steered the conversation this way. Inside, I suddenly had butterflies. It was true, I’d thought about. I’d thought about it a lot. My face burned but at the same time I felt a sudden, reckless impulse to do it. Just to see what it was like. To find out for myself.
“Okay?” Greg said. Now he sounded cautiously excited. I could hear him breathing.
I didn’t say anything. I could feel the intensity of his gaze and I became aware that my own cock was beginning to stiffen.
“Just… just try it,” he said. He kept his eyes on me but his hands went to the front of his jeans. He fumbled with the button and ran down the zip.
His lips were parted and I heard him swallow. He was still staring at me and I couldn’t resist looking down again as he opened the front of his jeans. He was suddenly in a hurry and without stopping he pushed down the front of his black briefs and exposed his cock. Released, it thrust up suddenly from the front of his jeans and came up almost fully erect.
Shadows from the TV flickered over Greg’s cock. I could see it and then I couldn’t. The light changed and I could see his thick shaft in perfect detail. He was uncut, the same as me. His cock stood pale and hard in the white TV light. I saw the thin veins under the skin and then the picture changed and the shadows waned and his cock slipped into darkness again.
I could hear Greg breathing. There was a tense, watchful, hopeful, look in his eyes every time the light touched his face. He slowly leaned back against the cushions and at the same time he slipped down a little lower on the couch and opened his legs a little wider. There was a rapt, expectant expression on his face.
In some ways I couldn’t quite believe what was happening, that we’d reached this stage, or that I would or ever could actually give Greg a blow-job. I could feel my heart beating with a slow, deliberate rhythm. My face was still hot and my cock was stiff and aching.
It felt wrong and I was nervous but I was excited too. I’d read stories about this on the internet. I’d looked at pictures and watched videos. I knew I wanted to do it, all I had to do now was take this one step.
Greg was waiting. Teasing shadows slipped over his cock, moving up and down, exposing it then concealing it again.
I leaned slowly closer. I’d never seen another guy hard in real life, never touched another guy. I glanced at Greg and he was watching almost spellbound. His eyes flickered and his lips were parted and he slowly nodded encouragement.
His cock loomed larger as I leaned over it and lowered my head. His foreskin was pulled back a little way to expose the round, shiny head of his cock. Up close Greg’s cock looked obscene and bigger than it had before. As I got closer I could see it in more detail and I realised I could smell him too; a warm, pleasant, clean and exciting, hot-cock smell.
At first I didn’t really know what to do. I decided on the spur of the moment to suck it and I was surprised how wide I actually had to open my mouth to accomodate him. I felt my lips touch his foreskin and I took the whole, swollen tip of his cock cautiously into my mouth, closed my lips around it, and gently sucked.
It was like nothing I’d ever done before. I felt joined to Greg. His skin was soft and warm but I could feel his hardness, too. I let my saliva moisten him and then I opened my mouth a little wider and took him in a little deeper. His cock seemed to fill my mouth, the only way I could breath was through my nose. I held him like that for just a moment and then I slowly sucked, lifting my head at the same time, and letting my lips drag softly over his cock until I drew my head away.
Greg moaned. His cock jerked, and in the light of the TV his foreskin shone wetly with my saliva. Greg was panting. I glanced at him and his eyes were shining. He nodded with a plea in his eyes, soundlessly willing me on, but I didn’t need any encouragement. I wanted his cock in my mouth again.
I took hold of the base of his cock and lowered my head a second time. I was discovering to my pleasure that a cock is perfectly shaped for sucking. I opened my mouth again and felt a growing hunger stirring inside me as I took him into my mouth. This time I moaned with sheer delight. I couldn’t help it.
Once again his swollen head filled my mouth, somehow it seemed to belong there. I could feel his heat and the aching hardness of his cock. His skin was soft and warm against my lips. My saliva lubricated him. I felt a deep connection with Greg, it was more than physical. It was the most arousing and intimate thing I had ever done.
I bobbed my head gently, slowly taking in more of him, then lifting my head and letting my lips drag slowly over his head. Every time I did it I immediately wanted to do it again. There was something highly addictive about performing such a deeply personal act. It seemed to awaken a sudden, aching hunger inside me.
Part of what I liked was Greg’s reactions, he moaned frequently, and his cock seemed to be getting harder and thicker all the time. Every time I lowered my mouth over him he squirmed and lifted his hips to meet me. I was finding it hard to breath but I didn’t care. I was developing a hunger for him. His cock was wet and glistening with my saliva and I alternated, bobbing my head fast, and then slow, while Greg writhed and gasped.
I began to slowly stroke him with my right hand while I sucked his cock. I’d never stroked another guy’s cock before but now everything I did seemed natural and instinctive. I liked the way his cock felt in my hand, the way his skin moved. At the back of my mind I was dimly aware of my own raging erection but my own needs seemed unimportant and secondary to the pleasure I was giving Greg.
Without even thinking about it I pushed his jeans lower. I tugged at his briefs and slid them down his thighs while Greg moaned. He was breathing faster all the time. I paused to catch my breath and my mouth felt suddenly empty without his cock. I could taste him on my lips and tongue.
I glanced at Greg and saw how his fingers were curled like claws gripping the edge of the couch. He was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He gave a brief, breathless, nervous sort of laugh. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. In his eyes I saw the need for more, I saw his hunger, his desperate ache for completion.
I stroked him lazily a couple of times and then, on the spur of the moment, I moved my hand lower and gently cupped his sac. I felt his balls, full and heavy, loosely suspended inside. I squeezed, very gently, experimentally, testing their weight, their feel. I could feel his wrinkled sac and the brush of his pubic hairs against my palm. I gathered his sac in my fingers and tugged gently and Greg pushed with his hips, straining with the intimacy of my touch.
His cock looked bigger now, obscenely swollen, longer and thicker and harder than before. The flickering shadows from the TV continued to pool and recede across his bare skin. Every vein in his cock seemed to be showing through the skin, standing out, swollen and pulsating and throbbing. His foreskin had pulled back about halfway to expose his wide, mushroom-shaped head. His slit looked like a tiny, tight-lipped mouth. A drop of milky pre-cum glistened then slowly trickled over the exposed expanse of his head.
I was still cupping his balls and enjoying the warm, exciting weight of his sac nestled against my palm. I squeezed and tugged gently again and his cock seemed to swell and stiffen even more. It thrust up aggressively from Greg’s nest of dark, pubic hair and I moved my hand and grasped it again half way down it’s seductive length and felt how heavy and thick it was. I relished its weighty potential.
I watched my hand as I stroked him a couple of times, then I slipped from the couch and knelt beside him. I could feel Greg watching me, I could feel his aching need. I moved my hand higher to just below his swollen head and gently tightening my grip I slowly drew back his foreskin. The skin stretched tight and then it pulled back and slipped down to reveal his naked, swollen head.
For a moment I just looked at it. His cock glistened with pre-cum. The shadows from the TV moved and shifted continuously. I stroked him again and his hot, hard shaft filled my hand. It felt right. It felt perfect. The skin moved slowly as I stroked him up and down. His bloated head was dark and suffused with blood. His shaft was pale and thick. The light from the TV made everything black and white.
There was no sense of time passing. Everything seemed to happen, one thing after another, in a smooth, natural progression. I was breathing fast. I could still taste his cock in my mouth. Greg’s fingers still made claws on the edge of the couch. I felt a rush of excitement, caught up in the moment, I was filled with a new-found sense of enthusiasm for this new pleasure I’d discovered.
Greg watched intently as I leaned over his cock again. The naked hunger in his eyes spurred me on. His scent was stronger now, a rich, masculine, spermy, hot-cock smell. I breathed it in and holding his cock erect I lowered my mouth over his swollen head. Now, with his foreskin pulled back, I felt the warm, soft, swollen mushroom-head of his cock as it filled my mouth. It was a deeper, more exciting, more intimate sensation than before.
I moaned hungrily and Greg stiffened beneath me. I could feel a wild, irresistible hunger growing inside me. A desperate desire to suck him. A deep-felt need to give him pleasure and to sate my own hunger at the same time. I bobbed my head up and down and now I swirled my tongue over his swollen head and tasted his salty pre-cum. I grasped his rigid shaft and bobbed my head and Greg squirmed beneath me.
His taste filled my mouth. My lips were stretched around his cock. I couldn’t breath but it didn’t matter. His head became slick with my saliva and my lips slipped easily and smoothly over him. I felt again that deep sense of a connection between us. I began to stroke him as I moved my head faster and faster. There was an exciting sense of something deeper and more important happening than my simply giving him a blow-job, a sense of something deeper and more meaningful taking place. Again, it seemed beyond the physical. We were connected somehow in other ways, mind and body.
I bobbed my head faster and faster and I stroked him harder. I moaned and Greg writhed. I was filled by the hungry need to complete what I had started. Consumed by the desire to hurry Greg to his climax. My mouth ached, my jaw ached, but I didn’t care. There was only one thing on my mind and nothing else mattered. His cock was slick with a mixture of my saliva and his own flowing pre-cum. My lips glided faster and faster. I felt myself losing control, caught up in the contagious excitement of the moment.
I became aware that Greg was talking, he was saying something, whispering breathlessly. I couldn’t hear his words but I knew from the tone of his voice and the tensing of his cock that he was encouraging me.
I felt his hands on my head and I knew he was watching. He was using his hands to guide my head up and down. He was watching and fucking my mouth and our mutual excitement was contagious and overwhelming. He urged me faster and I complied.
He climaxed a moment later. His cock stiffened and he groaned and his hands tightened on my head. I felt his cock spasm in my mouth and suddenly I felt a spurt of cum that seemed to explode in the back of my throat. I was hardly aware of it before I had swallowed it. My mouth was immediately flooded with his thick, salty tasting cum. It seemed to be everywhere, coating my tongue, thick and hot and salt-tangy in my mouth.
I choked unexpectedly and gasped as I lifted my head from his cock. Long, silvery, glistening strands of saliva mixed with Greg’s cum stretched from my lips to his shining, swollen head. I swallowed the cum in my mouth. I was still stroking him and Greg ejaculated again. I was gasping and panting for breath and still stroking him and his cum spattered and came down dribbling over my fingers.
Greg let out a deep, animal groan. It sounded wrenched from him. His hips jerked and his cock spasmed again and before I knew it I’d taken him into my mouth again. By now his shaft was slick with my saliva and his own cum. I stroked him and sucked him at the same time and I could taste fresh cum oozing from him. I felt his cock stiffen again and again. I could hear someone moaning, a hungry, exciting continuous sound that seemed to go on and on. It was only a moment later that I realised it was me.
I felt Greg’s cock soften even as I sucked it. It lost its rigid firmness. It became pliable in my hands. I dragged my lips over it one last time and it flopped heavily from my mouth. I was still holding it. It was glistening. I stayed like that, bent over his cock, gasping for breath, stunned by what I’d done but gratified and elated too. All at once I felt a sense of relief and excitement and achievement. My lips ached and my mouth felt abused. My jaw was sore.
His cock flopped in my hand. His head glistened wetly. I had his cum on my fingers. It had dripped down between his legs and shone among the sparse hairs that grew on his limp sac.
“Fuck,” Greg panted. “Ahh, fuck. That was….”
He was almost lying on the couch. He shook his head and didn’t finish. He was gasping for breath, his mouth hung open. He smiled, then his head fell back. I grinned at him. I felt like laughing. I felt happy inside. I stroked his cock absently then I let it go and looked at my hands. Thick strands of cum had dribbled over my fingers.
“You can’t,” Greg panted, “you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
He raised his head and we looked at each other. We were still breathing hard from our exertions. Flickering shadows from the TV danced over us and up and down the walls.
I didn’t say anything. I was the quiet one.