Date: Tue, 2 Sep 2008 18:49:04 -0600 From: Richard Subject: Mike Chapter 3 Based on a true relationship. Comments and suggestions welcome. Copyright 2008, richard@surfeit-verdure.com --- Mike was true to his word. My phone at the office rang around 4 pm on Friday. "Wondered if you wanted to have dinner after work." "Sure. Where do you want to go?" "Actually I have some burgers in the fridge. You want to come over to my place?" "That sounds great. How about 6?" "See ya there." I didn't get a great deal done the rest of the day as I thought about all the things I wanted to do with Mike. Keep it basic, I kept reminding myself. He's probably never even heard of most of the things you're coming up with, and you'll scare the hell out of him. Last minute phone calls and interruptions meant that I didn't get to leave the office till at least 5:30. I headed for Mike's place by way of the liquor store. Even with the progress we'd made the night before, I figured Mike could probably still use some help relaxing. "You're a little over-dressed for a BBQ." "Sorry, I didn't get a chance to go home after work. I brought beer." "Cool. Come in. I'll go light the grill." I'd been to Mike's place several times before, but I'd never really had a chance to explore it before. I took advantage of his absence to snoop. He pretty much had the classic ranch-style bachelor pad. Appliances and fixtures left over from the original 1970s construction. Hand-me-down sofas. Junk mail, dishes and beer bottles randomly arrayed. One unframed print pinned to the living room wall next to the TV. It had the slightly funky smell I always associate with single men. Stale cigarette smoke, left over beer, and an undertone that said "I don't like to clean much." Didn't sound pleasant, but to me it was great. "Grab a beer. Sit down. I'm gonna chuck the burgers on. See if you can find anything worth watching on TV." Mike didn't have cable, so the choices where going to be news, sports, or sitcoms. Sports seemed to be the lesser of the available evils. It wasn't the same program as last night, but it might as well have been. Mike plopped down on a chair. "Can you at least lose the tie? You're making me nervous." "Heh. Sorry, I never even remember I have one on." "Fucking nooses." I pulled the tie off and unbuttoned my shirt, tossing both on the back of the couch. I was left in a white t-shirt and slacks. "I've got those shorts I borrowed yesterday if you want them." "That'd be great. Thanks." Mike trotted into the bathroom down the hall and rummaged through the pile of cloths on the floor. "You can change in the bathroom if you want." "I don't think we need to stand on formality." Mike evidently hadn't quite let go of his shyness. I'd fix that eventually. I chucked my shoes onto the floor of the kitchen and peeled off my socks. Mike had returned to his chair, and was watching me intently between drags off his beer. I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my fly, allowing my slacks to drop to the floor around my ankles. I plopped them on top of my shirt and stood there in front of him wearing just my t-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. I've got a thing for underwear, particularly jockstraps, but I was just as glad to be wearing something more traditional today. I didn't want to freak Mike out. Yet. I pulled the pair of shorts over the tent in my crotch and sat back down on the couch. Mike continued to stare. I met his eyes and he quickly turned back to the TV and busied himself with his beer. "Need any help with the food?" I asked. "Nah. It's going to be pretty basic. I've just got the burgers and some chips." Mike headed for the back porch to flip them. Given Mike's cooking skills, well-done was probably for the best. "They're a little burned on that side, but I think they'll be ok." "They'll be fine. We'll just drink more." The sports program droned on as we waited for the burgers to finish. "Think they're done? I can never tell." "If they look like hockey pucks they're done." "They're done then." We both laughed. Mike grabbed the buns off the counter and gestured toward a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. "Plates." The cabinet was full of mismatched beer mugs, random plates, and inexplicably a set of tea cups. I raised my eyebrows. "My mom gave them to me." We rescued the burger from the flames. The refrigerator was stuffed full of pizza boxes, beer, and take-out containers. A bottle of mustard clung to the door tray. Luckily mustard doesn't go bad. At least I hope it doesn't. Returning to the sofa and chair we munched on the charred beef to the sounds of overheated football commentary. Good thing I wasn't attracted to Mike for his cooking. He finished first and set his plate on the pile in the sink. I chewed the last bite of mine into submission. "Thanks, that was good." I lied. "Any time. You want another beer?" "Nah. I'm good. Thanks." I wanted Mike to be sober for this session, and figured I could at least set an example. "Wanna see the rest of the house?" "Sure. I've never really seen much of it before." I lied again. "Kitchen and living room you've seen. This is the bathroom. Spare bedroom. One of these days I'll get a bed for it. That's my room." His bedroom was as stereotypical as the rest of the house. No carpet was visible through the piles of clothes on the floor. His computer and a second television sat on a cheap particleboard desk in the corner. The bed was a double with the grungy-looking white sheets wadded up on one side. Several more sports posters were tacked to the wall, along with a large Budweiser banner that I can only guess had been stolen from some event. The air was funkier than in the rest of the house with a distinct male musk to it. We stood awkwardly at his bedroom door. "You need to get home?" "No, I'd rather stay." Mike fidgeted. "So you want to.." "Yes." No point in being shy about it. I wanted to nail him, and not just a hand job this time. Mike worked for a contractor, and was still wearing his denim cargo shorts and a sleeveless shirt. I reached out and cupped his cock and balls though his shorts. He tipped his head back slightly with his mouth slightly open. "Uuhh yeah." I massaged his balls through the thick denim. "Should I jack you off again?" It was a genuine - and touchingly naive - question. He clearly wanted to be lead through this process. "That's always fun, but I think we can do better." Mike suddenly looked scared. "I'm not into any of that buttfuck stuff. Exit only man." "No, I wasn't thinking of that. At least not today. You ever been sucked off?" Mike just shook his head. Fear still lingered in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do that. I mean I don't even know how." "Don't worry. I'll start on you. If you want to you can try it on me afterwards." Mike just nodded hesitantly. I took my hand off his balls and pointed behind him to his bed. Mike turned and stood next to the bed looking lost. I almost laughed out loud. This was OK. I don't mind playing teacher. "Let's get those shorts off you." Mike quickly unbuttoned and pulled down the zipper, but instead of dropping the shorts he pulled down the waistband of his faded blue and white boxers and slid his erect penis out. I'd forgotten about his discomfort with his body. "Not a bad start, but we can do better. I want to see your whole package." Mike actually blushed. I kneeled down in front of him and pulled on the lower legs of the shorts. They slipped out from under the fingers he'd been using to hold them up and slid down his massive legs. Mike stepped out of them, still clutching the band of his boxers with one hand. I started to repeat the process, but Mike held fast to the waistband. "Mike, I want to see it all. I've been fantasizing about your body for two years." "That's sick. I'm a fat bastard with hair on my ass. No one wants to see that." "Believe it or not, not everyone likes the picture-perfect models you seen in porn videos. People like you are called bears in the sex world, and they have quite a following. Me very much included. Now leggo." I pulled down again, and this time Mike let the boxers slide through his fingers and down his legs. They landed in a puddle at his ankles. Mike's beer belly tapered into a fairly average-sized waist. He was still a big guy, but he didn't have the spare-tire-ass that often goes along with it. His thighs quickly ballooned back out again, but it looked more like muscle than fat. He did do manual labor after all. His happy trail poured into a thicket of pubic hair, then spread across his entire crotch. I was sure he wasn't kidding about having a hairy ass. The beer-can cock I'd enjoyed the night before jutted out of the forest of hair. A tight - and yet again hair-covered - sack was contracted around two egg-sized balls. "Wow." I said, in genuine admiration. "What?" he said with an edge of concern. "Those are great balls. They're probably the biggest pair I've ever seen." "Yeah. Pity the dick doesn't match." "Nothing wrong with a beer-can cock. Long-shlongs are highly overrated." "Beer can?" "The width. Fat dicks are called beer cans." "Oh. Is that good?" "Yes." I'd never been with someone as inexperienced as Mike before. Teaching him about his own body was amazingly arousing. Still, enough lessons for today. "Sit on the edge of the bed. And step out of those boxers before you trip and land on me." Mike complied, and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his knees together and his hands resting on his thighs. "Mike, I'm going to suck your dick, so you might want to make it available. Scoot forward and spread your legs. You can do whatever you'd like with your hands. Try twisting your nipples like I was doing yesterday." He shuffled forward and spread his legs a few inches. His cock had left a puddle on his left thigh. I duck-walked into position in front of him, put both hands between his knees, and spread them to expose his crotch. "That's better. I know this is all new for you, so here's the only sex tip you will ever need in life: tell me when you like what I'm doing, and tell me when you don't. I am not the world's preeminent cock-sucker, and even if I were, I still wouldn't know exactly what you like. All I want out of this is to make it great for you, so help me out. I will always do the same for you." "Um. Ok I guess." I leaned in toward his dripping dick. Mike instinctively pulled back away from me. I reached my arms over his spread legs and cupped his ample ass cheeks. I could tell this was going to be another short round. Pre-cum was actually dripping down his dick and onto the dirty sheets. To hell with the preliminaries I though. I slid my tongue out as far as I could and curled it into a track for Mike's broad cock. It touched down with the subtle salty taste of his pre-cum. Sliding forward, his huge head popped through my lips. "Aahhuhhhggh" moaned Mike above me. I felt his hands land on either side of my head, pushing his cock further in. I quickly pushed back and let his dick slip out of my mouth. "Careful. You're welcome to hold my head, but you've got to let me drive for now. Your cock is too big to shove down my throat." "Sorry." he said, with an amusing hint of pride in his voice. I sucked his head back into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the flare. More incoherent moaning from above. I was not, in fact, a particularly experienced cock sucker at the time, and his dick really was fat enough to cause problems. None the less, I was going to give it a try. Squeezing two handfuls of ass, I pulled myself farther onto his shaft. I was as careful as I could be, but still managed to brush his dick with my upper teeth. "No" Mike blurted out. I backed out far enough to talk. "Sorry - accident. Good job through. Never be afraid to tell me when you don't like something." Down I went again. Thank god it was short. I was almost to the base, and it was just touching the back of my throat. At this point my interest was somewhat self-centered. The position put my nose into his mound of pubic hair, and I breathed in as deeply as my cock-stuffed mouth would let me. Mike really did work for a living, and his crotch was ripe with sweat. I savored the smell as long as I could before my throat gave up and forced me to back out. "Oh. This is fucking amazing. Can you do that thing with the tip again?" Rather than just complying, I decided to see if he had a sensitive piss slit. The opening was proportional to his huge head, and must have been a third of an inch high. I pushed the flaps apart with the tip of my tongue and pushed in as far as I could. "Fuck! Fuck! Yes do that. Fuck!" I took that as a yes. I switched to licking up and down the slit, diving in on each pass. "Uhh. Uhhh. I'm gonna cum." Mike moved his hands from my shoulders where they'd been resting and started pushing my head away. No way. I was going to eat this cum I'd wanted for so long. I subtly shook my head and pulled in again with my ass handholds. "No, really I'm. Ahhhhgh." His white load splashed against the roof of my mouth and began to coat my tongue. I continued massaging the back of Mike's flare with my lips. Semen began to leak out of the corners of my mouth and dripped off my chin. I was in heaven. The hot salty cream tasted better than I ever thought it could. Mike's spasms had slowed, and there was only a trickle of cum coming from his slit. He shuddered, and I felt his cock head begin to shrink subtly. Backing off his dick, I scraped as much cum into my mouth as I could with my lips. His head popped out of my mouth causing him to jerk again. I swished his amazing cum around my mouth and swallowed it. A trail still clung to my chin. Mike's face was tilted up to the ceiling, his eyes almost closed and his mouth hanging partly open. "Better than jacking off huh?" "Shit. That was the best sex I've ever had. Fuck." "Oh, I bet we can do better, but thanks." Mike tipped his head forward and looked down at me. He chuckled and wiped the string of cum off my chin. "Sorry. I tried to warn you." "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss your cum for the world." Mike gave me an odd look, then shrugged. "So, should I do you now?" "That would be great, but let's wait for a bit till you've got your breath back. I've got some other things in mind." Mike's eyes glowed. "Anything you want."