Date: Mon, 21 May 2012 16:54:00 +0100 (BST) From: Nick Paston Subject: Peter on the Couch Peter on the Couch -- or my education continues OK, so fast forward a couple of years from the episode where I sucked Gary off in that Scout tent when I was 14. I won't pretend that I was completely celibate for that 18 -- 20 month period, but lets just say that I reverted to being a 'normal' 14/15 year old. Compulsive masturbation and longing for the days when I could allow Robin to get me off at will. My encounters with Robin, Benjamin and Gary gave me some very special memories. The sort that very few 14 year old could ever boast of. I was just plain lucky I guess. But as I have said in my first introduction, I am bisexual, so experimenting with girls did go on. I never got the same thrill from slipping a finger into a teenage pussy as I did from slipping my lips over a quivering hard cock, but I got by. I was OK looking, so enough girls allowed me to play hide the finger, and even returned the favour on occasion. Enough for me to start to forget the high I used to get from going down on a boy/man. Almost... So, as I said, fast forward almost 2 years. I am 16, and about to embark on a personal adventure not involving sex (at least not at first). I managed to get some average O levels, and my prospective sixth form college was in Southend on Sea. Now anyone reading this who lives outside the UK will struggle to picture this town. Lets just say to my American friends, its like Coney Island without the charm. To anyone residing within the UK, just imagine your nearest coastal resort, they are all pretty much the same, at least they were in those days. 'Kiss Me Quick' hats, sunburn, candy floss and litter covered streets. But in those heady, teenage days, with the prospect of new horizons, new people and the challenge of A levels, I was very excited to be going. The only fly in the ointment was having to find a room locally, as it was too far to commute. I solved that by persuading my Dad to take me there on a trip in the pre term break, in order to find a bedsit, suitable for a student. I got lucky. I found a large, airy bedsit in a street 20 yards from the sea front. The house was large and Edwardian in build. I had French windows out onto a balcony overlooking the rambling garden and the owners of the house were a pretty laid back couple, despite the fact that he was a merchant banker. His wife was a Junoesque brunette with a heart laugh and usually an armful of toddlers. Her husbands job seemed to involve earning a massive salary, which enabled her to produce a child a year, judging by the army of kids who solemnly watched me move in with my sparse belongings. Rules were simple. No alcohol in my room. No playing guitar after midnight, and it was considered compulsory for me to attend the regular Saturday afternoon garden parties they hosted. These parties were liberally lubricated with red wine and smelly cheeses, and were an excuse for every relative the couple had to turn up and drink the cellar dry. It was a match made in heaven for me. After a couple of months I was virtually one of the family, and even the alcohol in my room rule was relaxed. I settled in well at the College, and life seemed great. It was about to get greater... The day in question was a Friday. I had discovered a pub in the next street where the landlord was flexible about students coming in, so long as they drank more than a single half pint every hour, and at the other end of the scale, didn't throw up in the flower pots after too much beer. So this summers evening, I was nursing a pint of bitter, pretending I liked it, when I guy I knew vaguely from previous visits came in. I remembered his name was Peter. He was tall, just under 6 feet, a little gangly, and his permanent wardrobe seemed to consist of brown needle cord trousers and blue shirts. Not the same ones every day, you understand. It was just that he seemed to have endless almost identical trousers and shirts. I nodded to him, and as the pub was virtually deserted, he came over after collecting a pint of lager from the bar and we talked. He was funny, articulate and engaging and we got on well. Just the usual teenage stuff really, although he was about 2 years older than me. He had quite long brown hair and one of his eyes had a slight cast, which didn't detract from his looks, just something you noticed in passing. Anyway, we carried on drinking, until suddenly, it was dark outside, and I realised I had drunk more than usual, enough to make me a little unsteady as I walked to the pub toilets just before we left. I suppose I could blame the drink. In those days, alcohol reduced my inhibitions, but not the performance (apart from prolonging it!) Oh I wish that were still true! But in any case, when he suggested going back to his flat to have another drink, I agreed readily. It turned out he lived literally feet from the pub (just as well, as I remember swaying somewhat alarmingly) The flat was in a mansion block, built sometime between the wars, so the rooms were cavernous and the stairs steep. I was surprised, even in my groggy state, to see that it was a pretty damn big flat. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a lounge which stretched the width of the building. It must have been over 25 feet wide, with two picture windows looking out over the road outside. We sat down, him on the couch (aha I hear you say, but patience is a virtue, although there is precious little virtue to come!) and me on the footstool next to the arm of his seat. Don't ask me why I sat that close, but he didn't query it, and it proved helpful later! Anyway, we had another can of beer, most of which I left, as I really didn't think I could stomach another one. We chatted a while and he asked me if I had a girlfriend (no) and other slightly more personal stuff. I got that tingle I had experienced before, when you didn't know what, but something was definitely going to happen. Out of the blue, my hormones starting to overpower the alcohol, I blurted out "Do you have any porn?" Don't ask me why I said that, I still don't know. I mean, its not an opening gambit in most dinner party conversations, is it? He looked sideways at me with an amused look, and grinned. " I think so" he said slowly "But it depends what sort of porn you like" That stumped me, and I looked at him stupidly for a second or two, trying to find the right words "Err, I dunno, you choose" I ended up saying, inwardly kicking myself He got up and went to what I presumed was his bedroom and came back clutching half a dozen colour magazines. I hadn't really expected him to have any ( I sure didn't in those days) So when he plonked them in my lap, I just looked at him for a minute. Then I plucked up the courage to look down at the selection he had made. Color Climax, Rodox... these titles are familiar to many of us now, but then I was dazzled by the explicit covers with girls and women sucking huge cocks, drizzled with cum. I swallowed nervously and flipped over a couple of mags until reaching the bottom of the small pile. 'Piccolo' was the title of the last one, and this time it wasn't teenage girls sucking. There were kids of 12 and 13, boys, naked, erect and not just posing. As I looked through the magazine page by page, they were in full contact. Boys sucking boys, boys sucking men, men fucking boys, boys with cum filled mouths, grinning at the camera. I was totally stunned. Now I suppose you've guessed that the selection Peter made was deliberate. Some heterosexual porn at first, and at the bottom, a real eye opener to see my reaction. Well you've guessed my reaction already, haven't you? I had an erection that threatened to burst my cotton trousers. I looked up at Peter, red with embarrassment and excitement, and saw him grinning at me. "See anything you like?" he smirked. What do you think? I took a deep breath, before answering, and as he sat down beside me, I went into auto pilot. I saw my hand reach over to his lap and squeeze his crotch. Thankfully there were signs of life in his trousers too and he quickly turned his head to face me. "I didn't know you were...?" he said quietly "Oh" I said, unsure of what he was getting at. "Well, I sort of like both..." He smiled at me and relaxed back onto the cushions. I was in business again... I stroked his cock through the smooth material of his cord jeans until the bulge grew along the line of his zip fly to the waistband. It felt great, thick and hard as iron. I reached for his belt and saw him watching my hands work on him. Releasing the brown leather belt and unbuttoning his jeans, I slid the brass zip slowly down until the material opened wide and I could see that his erection was fully hard. His boxer shorts were stretched tight over his cock and my eyes widened when I say how big he was. Now I had already sucked off that black guy in the Rec, so I knew that cocks got bigger than my own 7". But this was impressive. I ran finger and thumb down its length, not gripping, just following its outline. I pushed his trousers down slightly, until they were out of my way, and gulped at what was revealed. I guess he would have been between 9 and 10 inches. Not too thick, just in proportion. Although I hadn't yet freed him from the shorts, his cock was clearly outlined in the blue material. I felt my tongue lick my lips in anticipation, and from the corner of my eye, saw his expression change to a sly smile. This wasn't the first time another boy had admired his prodigious cock. I wanted more, much more, so I pulled at his shorts, trying to get them down, but I felt his hand stop me. For a moment, my heart sank, thinking he had had second thoughts, but his next words reassured me. "Not here" he said in a low voice. "I share this flat with my older sister, and she might come home early. Let's go to my bedroom" Standing up, he led me towards one of the closed doors in the hallway. "I need to..." I said , nodding in the direction of the open bathroom door. Actually I didn't really need to pee, but I have always been keenly aware about personal hygiene, and I wanted to wash myself before getting naked with this kid. He nodded quickly before leaving me alone, and going inside his bedroom. I washed myself quickly, not wanting the mood to evaporate too much. As I pushed open the bedroom door, and closed it behind me I saw that he was on the double bed. Naked. Actually it stopped me in my tracks. If you've read my previous true life experiences, you will know that, on the whole, my experiences with other boys and men were usually chance affairs, only once being consummated on an actual bed, when Robin initiated me into the glories of 69. This kid was ready and waiting, and he wasn't going to let pesky clothes get in the way. I stripped nervously, conscious that my wilting 7" wasn't in the same league as my partners hard on. I needn't have worried. After I laid beside him and slid my hand over his flat brown belly, gripping the object of my desire as if I was afraid it would disappear, he whispered in my ear in a voice hot with need. "Can I come in your mouth?" he breathed. I looked at him, wondering why this was even an issue "Of course" I said. "I like to do that" His eyes widened in surprise, and he spoke again "I've only done this a couple of times" he said "And they never...." I guessed his earlier partners were more cautious than yours truly, so I smiled at his tone "Listen Peter...I have only done this a couple of times too, but I always... you know" He grinned a wide grin and ran his hand over my chest, down across my own smooth belly and slid his palm around my rapidly stiffening cock. I loved the cool feel of his thin fingers and shivered slightly, as if someone had walked over my grave. This was going to be fun, I thought, before conscious thoughts left me for the duration. We slowly masturbated each other, me still marvelling that this skinny body had such a large and impressive erection rearing above it. I stroked him slowly, wanting to remember every second. His cock was hot, and I could feel the veins and curves of it in my palm as if I was recording it for later replay. The head was fat, bulbous, and although uncut, the stroking I was giving it retracted the skin until the slick moisture of his pre-cum coated my fingers. I could smell sex in the air. It was intoxicating. Unlike previous encounters, we had all night... When the touch of our fingers was no longer bearable, we slotted easily into the side by side 69 position Robin had taught me. I held his cock close to my lips, still devouring it with my eyes. I felt the hot wetness of his mouth cover my cock, and gasped in pleasure as he began to suck. I ran my tongue round the whole of his cock head, adding my saliva to the sweet pre-cum his cock was now producing. I felt him groan, rather than heard him, his mouth full with my own erection. Now I wanted him to feel the same pleasure I was feeling. Instead of following my instinct, and sucking as much in as I could, I savoured the experience of mouthing just the head, using my tongue to lap and circle his sensitive glans. His hips jerked as I did that, and I knew that neither of us were going to last long. In fact I was wrong. I didn't last more than another 3 minutes. His sucking was expert, intense and relentless. With his fist pumping me and his other hand either cupping my balls or wandering underneath to tease my bum with a probing finger (something even Robin hadn't prepared me for) I felt the sperm rising in my shaft all too quickly. I knew I was going to blow, so I released his delicious cock, and grunted a warning "Peter, I'm gonna cum!" I managed, before it was too late. I felt his mouth release me, and the cool air finished me off. I spurted 4 or 5 hard jets of cum at his face. He took the load mostly on his chin, only putting me back in his mouth when the last weak pulse ran down my sensitive glans. He sucked me then, slowly licking around my shaft as I jerked in helpless need. Once I have cum, like most guys, I don't always have the same desire, but something about this cock kept me excited. Swooped back on it. I felt him relax onto his back, so I slid round until I was in the old familiar position, between a pair of adolescent thighs, mouth full of excited flesh. He didn't last much longer, maybe a couple of minutes, but I made him pay for his teasing. I waited until his fingers gripped my head and his hips began to thrust upwards, needing release, then stopped sucking and just licked. He let out a strangled "No, stop, I mean keep doing that" I did this three times, each one leading to him almost exploding. At last I tired of this torment and I decided to let him come. As his hips began the jerky movements just before a climax, I plopped his cock out of my mouth and, in a harsh whisper I said "Come for me. I want it in my mouth" His breath was coming in frantic pants, and as the words left my mouth, he shouted "Oh fuck, suck me, quick, its coming" I swallowed that big plum like head and put as much suction on it as I thought he could stand. My tongue danced around the tip as the first big pulse of hot cum hit the back of my mouth. He didn't come as much as Benjamin, nor was it as sweet, but I was past caring. I swallowed, then sucked hard again, swallowed, sucked, swallowed sucked. He was going crazy, fingers scrabbling in my hair, hips banging away on the bed. God, it was a performance to relish! After I had swallowed all he had to give, we rested side by side, the sweat cooling on our bodies. I think I even slept a little, the combination of sated sex and alcohol is a powerful combination. Unlike my previous encounters, this one led to several more. With his sister away more often than at home, I spent a number of pleasant evenings suckling on that monster cock., and he on my more modest one. We actually talked about sex, which isn't something I was used to. One afternoon, he invited me round, and I found out the source of his porn stash. His older brother was a diplomatic courier in Denmark, and lots of salacious material found its way back to the Essex seaside. He had films too, and several times we lay naked on his bed, his brothers 16mm projector mounted beside the bed, a sheet pinned to the wall while two Scandinavian kids performed for us. We would lay, holding each other cocks, while some 13 year old boy gave a bravura performance of fellatio on his playmate, and after, the cameraman. Oh happy days! The 'affair' went on for most of that summer, until his sister got married, and moved out of the flat. It was a happy time, probably the most carefree sex I had ever enjoyed up to that point. I've never seen Peter since that summer in the early 70's, but I still have the odd daydream about that magnificent cock. In fact, due to my budding interest in 35mm photography then, I'm sure there are a couple of rolls of undeveloped black and white negatives in a drawer in my office featuring yours truly sucking a heroic cock! Maybe I should try to find a developer/printer who is discrete! Comments welcome on nic27552@yahoo.co.uk !!