Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2005 14:23:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Blowing Striagh-Boy Larry

   I slid the computer coded card key into the reader affixed below the
door knob, and watched, as the tiny L.E.D. lamps switched from red, to
green, and the tumblers emitted a soft clicking sound. Twisting the knob, I
pushed open the door to my hotel room, and went inside. I opened the long
drape that covered one whole wall of the room, and slid the glass slider
door open, allowing the fresh outside air to flow into the slightly stuffy
room. Hotel rooms. God knows I have seen my share of them over the past two
years. Large, roomy ones, some just adequate, and others completely
forgettable. No matter the size, or quality, all of them had that one
common trait, the stuffiness, and the constant lingering scent of cleaning
solutions used by the housekeeping staff.

   I tossed my sport coat onto a chair, and removed my tie, savoring the
relief that comes with loosening a shirt collar that has been tightly
buttoned all day. I walked to the vanity area, and removed the ice bucket
from the mini-fridge, and clinked some cubes into a glass, only, of course,
after I removed it from the "sanitary" wrapper. I added a stiff jolt of
vodka from the bottle I always seemed to have in my room, and topped it off
with tonic, and a wedge of fresh lime. I had learned, after nearly two
years on the road, and virtually living in hotels, that it was much kinder
to my daily expenses to imbibe a few post-work cocktails in my room, than
at the hotel bar. I wandered over, and toggled the remote, bringing the TV
to life. I settled into one of the reasonably comfortable arm chairs that
this particular establishment provided, and sipped my drink, half way
listening to the evening news being delivered by the local talking head.

   The other half of my brain began reflecting on this last couple of
years, and some of the ups, and downs, of life in a traveling job. As a
middle management employee of a large communication firm, I had been
offered the opportunity to take this assignment as a member of the team
charged with implementing a major operational change throughout the two
state corporation. I had jumped at the offer for a couple of reasons, one
being that I was, in fact, eminently qualified, having a high degree of
experience in the very operation that the company was upgrading, from a
labor intensive process, to one that was primarily computer
automated. Secondly, I was a single man in my late thirties, and pretty
much unencumbered by home, and family, as were many of my colleagues, and
my logic had been that if I accepted the assignment, and the extensive
travel, then one of the family guys could stay home. Though I like thinking
that was quite noble of me, the truth was that I was bored, in both the
repetitiveness of my current work assignment, and my somewhat mundane
personal life.

   Actually, personal "life" might be too generous a term, maybe personal
"existence" would be closer to the truth. Not that I'm complaining, you
understand, no way, my life was far better than many I have encountered
over the years. I had a great career going, and more friends than I had
time for, and while I enjoyed a full social life, and my share of amorous
adventures, I had managed to avoid the entrapments of any serious
relationship with either women, or men. Yup, either/or. Though a fact known
to very few, the truth is that I am, for as long as I can remember,
decidedly bi-sexual. I suppose, had I thought to keep score over the years,
that my he/she encounters outnumber my he/he encounters, probably two to
one, but, given the proper circumstance, and available player, I had
willingly added a number of male to male notches to my gun belt, as well.

   This particular proclivity of my makeup had surfaced at an early stage
of my life, after being introduced to the carnal delights of boy-boy sexual
exploration by a male cousin, when I was the tender age of twelve. He was
fifteen to my twelve, and decidedly gay, and had been only too happy to
share his vast knowledge, and experience, with his shy, slightly
introverted, and horny as hell young cousin. Not only did I rise to his
advances like a hungry trout to a well placed dry fly, I reveled in the
intense sensations of pleasure that flowed through my lithe young body like
water flows through a gunite canal. After shedding my initial reticence to
actually touching another males body parts, I found no end of pure joy in
the act, and sought to engage in it at every opportunity. I quickly became
what is vulgarly referred to in some circles as a cock hound, and would
happily drop to my knees in humble worship of a stiff penis, and balls, at
the first invitation. Word of this phenomenon spread rapidly throughout my
cousin's circle of friends, and their friends, and in no time, my personal
popularity among the older boys was definitely on the rise. If anyone
wondered why a twelve, and later thirteen, year old boys company was
constantly in demand by the high school, and even the occasional college
guys, crowd, no one ever gave voice to the issue. By the time I graduated
high school, I could easily have been a three letter varsity cocksucker, if
such an event were a part of the sports curriculum.

   I maintained my interest in the subject throughout my college years,
though at a somewhat more subdued pace, partly due to the simple logistics
of not being all that familiar with as many guys as I had been at home, and
also due to my newly discovered interest in the fair sex, as well. I
actively dated, and bedded, my fair share of nubile young ladies during
college, and after, deriving an equal amount of pleasure as with my peers,
albeit different, in obvious ways. As I moved onto the corporate world, my
off hours activities continued to track in the same general direction,
though discretion became a much higher priority than during my impetuous
youth, and the number of male-male encounters was greatly reduced, though
not totally dormant. I was confidant that my little quirk was an unknown
among my fellow workers, and in fact, I had gained a bit of a water-cooler
reputation as a fairly serious ladies man, and highly eligible bachelor at
large. My recent man play had been conducted surreptitiously, and was
always pursued in one of the smaller towns that dotted the landscape
surrounding my home city.

   All of this had also played a part in my decision to accept the
traveling assignment, and, true to expectation, had borne a certain amount
of fruit, if you will forgive the terrible pun, during my various travels
of the past couple of years. There is an old proverb favored among thieves,
and cock suckers, that one should never shit, where one eats. I had long
subscribed to that most basic of philosophies, and it had stood me in good
stead. Hence, my utter, and complete surprise, when I suddenly found myself
attracted to, and deeply tempted by, a new male member of our little
traveling team.  The very thoughts I was having regarding him set off every
one of the plethora of long trusted alarm systems in my head, but, when has
lust ever listened to caution, I ask you.

   The abject closeness of his being a work-mate, and worse yet, a newly
ordained member of our close knit travel team, was a minefield dangerous
enough in its own rite, but that potential explosiveness was still further
enhanced by the glaring fact that he was a mere boy, a brand new company
hire, from a corporate fast-track program that employed potential future
executives in a sort of internship, before they finished college. He was,
among breath-taking, and sexy, and oh-so-tempting, just barely nineteen
years old, nearly a full twenty years my junior. And, if all that wasn't
enough, all outward indications were that he was totally straight, although
that alone would not have deterred me from making an attempt at getting his
fresh young meat in my mouth. Nineteen is, after all, an age of constant
need to get off on a regular basis, and, given the correct circumstance, an
awful lot of straight boys in that age range would willingly accept a
premium blow job, no matter the gender of the mouth involved.

   So, in consideration of all the above, I had kept my smoldering lust for
the boy pretty much in check. Not that it had been easy, because the very
nature of the project we were working on dictated a lot of togetherness
among team members, and, I was more or less in charge of the team, and our
progress. Larry, his name by the way, had garnered a lot of my personal
attention during the first two weeks of his joining the project, and I had
sadly passed on numerous opportunities to flirt with him, keeping our
closeness strictly business. It was because of my professional behavior
toward him that it really surprised me when he had approached me near the
end of one work day, drawing me aside, to ask a favor. As it turns out, he
had rather shyly asked if I would be willing to buy some beer for him,
since he was under the legal age of 21. Once more slipping slightly into my
"boss" role, I had acquiesced, on the proviso that he agreed to not do any
driving after consuming it. Once that was settled, I agreed to make a store
run enroute to the hotel, and suggested that he drop by my room later to
pick up the brews.

   As promised, I bought a twelve pack of the requested product, and
returned to the hotel. As is my custom, I got out of my sport coat, and
tie, then, mixed my usual vodka and tonic. I put Larry's beer in the
mini-fridge, and wandered out onto the small deck that overlooked the pool
area one floor below. Anticipating Larry's arrival, I had left the room
door propped slightly open, and when I heard his call, I told him to come
in. I told him his beer was in the fridge, and invited him to grab one, and
join me, if he had the time, and desire. I heard him rummage into the
twelve pack, then heard a beer pop open, and looked up, as he came
outside. I'm sure my face must have shown my sudden lust, however briefly,
as my eyes did a quick once over of his lithe body. He had changed out of
his work attire, and was now standing before me clad in a nicely snug pair
of cut-off Levi's, and a light blue tee shirt.

   He had a decided boyishness about him that only added to his overall
attractiveness, in my book anyway, and damn it, he was just plain cute. He
was fairly tall, and lean, about six feet even, and maybe 160 pounds. His
hair was a light brown, and tended toward sub-bleached, and was very soft
looking. He wore it slightly long cut, and center parted, and it covered
his ears, and the back of his neck. His very cute face was lean, and
tanned, with a peaches and cream complexion, and small dimples, that showed
when he smiled. His teeth were even, and stunningly white, and his mouth
was definitely kissable, with full, lush lips. The tee shirt he wore was
snug, and clung nicely to his defined chest, and flat tummy. I had seen him
at work in a dress shirt that was open at the collar, and there had been no
evidence of any chest hair. The cut-offs were chopped at mid-thigh, and
there was a barely visible fine down coating his lower legs. The crotch
bulged invitingly, and I had to force my gaze away from his center, to meet
his very dark, brown eyes. He smiled, and lifted his open beer in a toast,
and said, "It's really cool of you to score this for me, Rob, thanks a
lot." I returned his smile, and lifted my own drink in a return of his
toast gesture, and replied, "No problem, Dude, I was nineteen once,
too...have a seat, if your not in a rush." He chuckled, and pulled the
other lounge chair over next to mine, and settled in.

   We sipped our drinks, and chatted, then, I went inside to mix another,
and get Larry a fresh beer. We carried on our relaxed banter through one
more round, then, Larry announced his hunger, saying it was time to go for
some dinner. The alcohol had softened my caution sufficiently to let me
suggest that we have dinner together, and Larry happily accepted the
suggestion. I got him one more beer, while I went inside to change into
some shorts and tee shirt of my own, then, we walked down to the hotel
restaurant, and ate dinner, continuing our pleasant conversation. I really
enjoyed getting to know him, and we discovered several areas of common
interest as we talked. If anything, my lust for him was greater, now that I
knew him more as a person, and in addition, I found myself just plain
liking him, his personality, and intellect.

   We finished the meal, and sauntered back toward the wing where our rooms
were, passing the pool area as we walked. There were a few people enjoying
the large spa, and we lingered a bit, watching the steam rise off the
frothy, bubbling water. Finally, we entered the lobby, and climbed the
stairs to the second floor, and I was afforded the opportunity too check
our Larry's very cute ass as I followed him up the steps. I had never been
one for much anal play in my dalliances, but hey, it was just a fantasy, so
why not add that cute little butt to the mix. Reaching the second floor, we
walked to the door of my room, and I opened it, saying, "Come on in and get
your beer, Larry." He gave me that delicious smile, and I once again
reveled in his boyish cuteness, as he replied, "I've had enough for
tonight, if it's ok, I'll just leave it here, and, maybe we can have a
drink together again tomorrow." I liked that idea, liked it a lot, in fact,
so I nodded, and said, "Sure, I'd like that." We said our good nights, and
I stood in the open doorway briefly, watching Larry retreat down the
hall. Yup, I decided, he definitely looked equally good going, as he did
coming. I chuckled as I closed the door, thinking how much I'd really like
to see him "coming," or, more to the point, "cumming!"

   The remainder of the week went pretty much the same, with Larry showing
up in my room after work, and some drinks, then dinner. Before I knew it,
it was Friday, and we all headed home for the weekend. The following week,
that ritual continued, and was enhanced, by us meeting in the hotel coffee
shop in the early morning before going to work. Soon we were ridding to the
office together, having applied the logic that two cars for two people
going to the same destination was a case of overkill. During the time we
spent in the car, I learned that he had a girlfriend back home that
provided him with a sexual outlet on the weekend, though she was a bit on
the prudish side, and as a result, the sex was limited to straight
intercourse with condoms. He spoke freely of his often felt frustration
from his many failed efforts to woo her into embellishing their trysts with
a bit more adventurous activity, and he repeatedly showed particular
interest in oral sex. The young lady, however, was having none of it,
summing the whole idea up as "gross," and totally out of the
question. Larry always eventually abandoned his quest, opting to accept the
vanilla intercourse as way better than nothing. As he would lament his
dissatisfaction at the lack of more intimate experiences, I found myself
biting my tongue not to offer him the blow job if a lifetime.

   Wednesday evening of the second week, as we returned to the hotel after
eating dinner, Larry announced that he felt like spending some time in the
hot spa. I agreed, and we adjourned to our respective rooms to change into
swim suits. On the way out, I mixed myself a drink, and grabbed one of
Larry's beers, then, headed down to the pool area. Larry was already
immersed in the steaming water when I arrived, so I set our drinks on the
edge of the spa, and climbed in. He flashed his killer smile, when he saw
the cold beer I had brought him, and actually winked at me, saying it was a
great idea.

   We drank our drinks, and soaked in the hundred degree plus water for a
while, and Larry finally proclaimed he was turning into a prune, and stood
up. My heart nearly stopped, and my cock most certainly reacted, as I gazed
at his glistening body, totally smooth, and lean, with nickel sized nipples
dotting his nicely defined chest, and a thin treasure trail of light
colored hair descending from his small navel, into his very wet, and very
clinging, swim trunks. My eyes locked onto the bulging outline of his cock,
as the soggy garment clung to his considerable package, and I actually
drooled, as my hungry eyes feasted on what had to be, even in its flaccid
state, at least four inches of nice thick meat. The wet suit had also
gathered against his balls, and the resulting mound was impressive, to say
the least. I licked my lips, and tore my eyes away from the delicious
sight, lest I loose it all together, and just reach for it, which is
exactly what I very much wanted to do.

   Larry sat his cute butt on the edge of the spa, his bare legs hanging in
the water, the left one in contact with my shoulder, and arm. He tipped his
head back, to take a deep pull from his beer, and I seized the opportunity
to again settle my eyes on his cock and balls, which remained clearly
outlined in the soggy trunks. He set the beer down, and dropped his hand
into his lap, his slim fingers capturing the tumescence there, and
adjusting it, as he tugged at the wet material. "God, I hate wet swim
trunks!" he groused, and I chuckled, and daringly said, "Well, you could
take them off, I wouldn't mind at all." He laughed, and gave me a short
look, a strange expression on his cute face, almost if he was going to make
some reply, then let it go, and slid back into the water. His bare leg
stayed in contact with mine, and it was my turn to reach under the frothy
water, and adjust the fully hard cock inside my swim suit.

   We passed a few more minutes in the spa, and with his stunning package
being hidden from view once again, I managed to get my turgid cock under
control. We decided we had had enough heat, and climbed out of the spa, and
quickly plunged into the cooler swimming pool to do a few brisk laps,
before heading back to the rooms. As we arrived on the second floor, I
offered Larry a final beer, and he readily accepted, so we went into my
room. I got him a beer, and mixed myself another drink, and he went into
the bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he returned, He had a towel
wrapped around his waist, and the soggy swim trunks in his hand. My balls
twitched strongly, as I glanced at the serious protrusion that poked at the
front of the towel, and I felt my mouth flood with saliva, as I realized
that he was totally naked under the towel. "Has to be about the worst
feeling in the world, a clammy swim suit." He muttered, and dropped the
offending garment onto the floor next to the door.  He walked over the
small settee that faced the twin chairs where I was sitting, and leaned
forward to pick up his beer. My eyes followed his every movement, hungrily
soaking up the display of smooth, bare, skin. He leaned back, and stretched
out his legs, and tipped up the beer, and I dropped my gaze to his swollen
crotch, and stared in amazement, as the towel parted slightly just above
his knee, and his smooth, pink scrotum became almost fully visible. He
lowered his head, and caught my open mouthed expression, and quickly
dropped his eyes to his partly exposed crotch. His sweet face instantly
flushed, and he grabbed at the towel, and croaked, "Oops, sorry about
that!" I smiled, nearly bursting with the urge to drop to the floor in
front of him, and rip off the towel, and engulf that swollen ball sac in my
hungry mouth. "Not a problem." I smiled, then winked at him, and said,
"Don't be uncomfortable, Larry, I've seen them before, you know." He
blushed a little deeper shade, but nodded, and said, "Yea, just us guys
here, right?" I nodded, and turned, taking a sip of my drink.

   The moment passed, and he went to the fridge, and dug out another beer,
then returned to his seat facing me. I was sure, or maybe it had been
wishful thinking, that the bulge in the towel had grown significantly, as
we had moved through the small awkward moment. "What do you think of my
chances with Elaine?" he suddenly blurted, referencing one of the ladies on
out work team. I thought about it a minute, then replied, "I'm not sure,
actually, I mean, I know that Chuck made out with her a few times on the
road, but he is more her age than you." He nodded, smiled, and said, "Yea,
I heard about that, actually, it's what got me thinking about having a go
at her, I hear she might be into head." I laughed, and shook my head,
saying, "Dude, you have a real hang up about getting a blow job, you know
that?" He flushed slightly, and nodded, muttering, "Tell me about it!"

   We continued the line of discussion, Larry asking me what I had heard on
the office rumor mill about Elaine, and her willingness to bed down with a
variety of guys she encountered in our travels. I told him what little I
knew, and confirmed that according to rumor, she indeed was reputed to be
quite free with granting her oral services, though nobody ever spoke of her
teaming with guys a good ten years her junior. I suggested he go for it,
anyway, as he was a very cute guy, and personable, and just might score. As
we talked about the possibilities, Larry kept dropping his hand to his lap
to tweak his burgeoning cock, and I watched very closely, my own cock
thickening in my trunks. "Yea, maybe I'll give her a shot, dinner, or
something, and see...damn, Rob, I really want a good blow job, big time!" I
knew what I wanted to reply to that proclamation, and the several ounces of
vodka that flowed in my veins no doubt supplied the courage, and I was
amazed to hear myself say, with a covering chuckle, "So, Dude, give her a
go, and hell, if it doesn't work out, drop on by on your way back, and I'll
suck that bad boy for you myself!" He stared into my eyes for most of a
minute, then, a slow smile crept over his face, and he shook his head
slowly side to side, and mumbled, "Yea, right!" I winked, and chuckled
again, then, mumbled softly, "What are friends for, right?" He grinned, and
stood up, his tumescent cock poked firmly against the towel, and looked
down at me, as I was unable to resist gazing at his now eye level prize, as
it strained the towel. I lifted my eyes to meet his grinning face, and he
mumbled good night, then said, "You know, Dude, you need to be really
careful about letting your mouth write checks that your ass might not be
able to cash." And with that, he was gone. I sighed, thinking just how
close we had pushed it, and headed for bed, where I quickly took matters in
hand.

   The rest of the week moved along in pretty much regular fashion, and the
weekend came, and went. I noticed that Larry was grasping every opportunity
to chat up Elaine during the day, and while she was politely fielding his
attentions, she didn't appear overly interested in the young man. Elaine
was a looker, to be sure, and, I ventured to guess, had traveled the block
once or twice, and certainly had her choice of play mates that came
equipped with much more experience that Larry. A brief mental image of
Larry's turgid equipment pressing firmly on that towel flashed through my
demented mind, and I smiled, thinking, experience isn't everything, Elaine!

   It was a Monday evening, our first day back on the road from a weekend
home, and Larry and I were holding our regular happy hour in my room. "So
stud, did you talk her into it this weekend?" I chided him, referring to
his vanilla-fuck girlfriend. He grunted, and shook his head, answering
woefully, "Hell no, the freeking broad acts like my dick will give her food
poisoning, or something." I laughed, and said, "Maybe you better double up
your Elaine effort, Bud, Chuck told me that she seems to think that cock,
and cum, is like a protein supply." He shuddered, and mumbled, "I so wish!"
I chuckled again, and asked, "What, that's not going so good, hitting on
Elaine?" He shook his head in disgust, and answered, "Nope, she says I
remind her too much of her "baby" brother!" I put a consoling hand on his
shoulder, and said, "Well, she hasn't seen your equipment straining a
towel, I'd bet money that wouldn't remind her of her "baby" brother!" His
cute face flushed, and he grinned, muttering "Pervert!" under his
breath. Thank you, I thought, I resemble that remark!

    He got up, and dug in the mini-fridge for another beer, popped it open,
and took a long pull, then dropped back onto the sofa. He stretched his
legs out in front of him, and my eyes settled onto the tempting lump at his
crotch, the material of his cut-off jeans bulging with the outline of his
cock. We elongated our cocktail time, each of us downing several, as we
lamented on the dullness of our respective sex lives. Larry had grown up in
that fortunate generation that had been heavily influenced by the highly
publicized philandering of then President Bill Clinton, and had availed
himself of several of the high school coeds who had been convinced that
oral sex was not to be considered actual sex. He told me of several
experiences where his date for the evening had happily dove onto his cock
in exchange for his not pursuing more intimate acts, and also of his
frustration that none among them would ever take the act to full
completion. "Freeking broads!" he complained, "Work my balls into an
uproar, and then stop sucking, just as things got good, and freeking jack
me off!" I laughed, commenting that most guys would have been more than
happy with that kind of action. He snorted at that comment, and said,
"Screw that, man, I mean, I was jacking off all the time, anyway, and
getting off like that is the same, my hand, or hers." I shook my head,
amused at his fixation with what he deemed to be the ideal blow job, and
let the booze in me do the talking, as I heard myself say, "Jesus, Larry,
you are obsessing, Dude, lighten up...I already told you I'd suck you off,
if you want!" He gave me a look, then smiled, and said, "And I told you to
watch it with your offers...hell, what if I said yes, I want you to suck my
dick?" I smiled right back at him, and the booze said, "Then...I'd haul
that bad boy out, and suck it, until your balls hurt." He shook his head,
and chuckled, then stood, and went into the bathroom.

   He returned, and got himself another beer, and resettled onto the
sofa. He swallowed some brew, then looked at me, and grinned, a soft flush
crawling over his smooth cheeks, and muttered, "I'm starting to think
you're serious about that, Dude." I winked, then, wiggled y eyebrows at
him, saying, "It wouldn't be the first, actually." That was the booze,
again, I'm sure. Still looking right at me, he lifted his own eyebrows a
tad, and mumbled, "Really.." I nodded, and replied, "Yup, really." His eyes
grew wider still, and he said, "No way...really..you actually..um...did?" I
chuckled, going with the flow of the edgy conversation, and replied,
"Well...not that I'd want to place an add in the paper, or
anything...but...between us kids...yea, I actually
have..did..whatever..several times, in fact." He squinted at me, trying to
decide if I was kidding, or serious, and finally he asked, "No
shit...you're serious, huh..jeez..you gay, Dude?" I shook my head, and
answered, "Don't think so...hell, I've had way more
pussy..than...cock...but, yea, I'm serious, Larry...I've sucked off several
guys in my time...and...enjoyed doing it." He continued to look at me, his
expression slightly incredulous, as he digested what I had just told
him. His silence was unnerving me a little, actually, as I sat there,
asking myself why the hell I had gone so far with this, and I started
worrying about him getting all grossed out, and sharing this new found
knowledge with the entire project team.

   A few awkward moments passed in silence, as we sat opposite each other,
our eyes locked across the small space. Finally, a kind of too-many-beers,
sappy little smile crossed his cute face, and I watched, holding my breath,
as he moved his hand into his stuffed crotch, and adjusted the lump there,
a decidedly larger lump than before. "Really, huh?" he sort of squeaked,
and I nodded, and replied, "Yes, really....but really, Larry...it's
something that I keep very, very private...shouldn't have said anything,
actually..booze, you know..?" He moved his hand to his smooth, bare tummy,
and ran it over the skin in a small circle pattern, nodding his head, and
saying, "Hey, Dude...don't sweat my saying anything..what..like, I'm going
to admit that we sat here talking about cock sucking..don't think so,
Dude!" I smiled, relieved, and mumbled, "Cool, Larry..thanks, man." He
giggled a little, and watched me, watching his hand moving over that baby
soft tummy, and mumbled, "This shit is freeking turning me on, Dude." I
chuckled, and dipped my hand into my lap, giving my painfully hard cock a
small squeeze, and said, "No shit, Sherlock!"

   Another pregnant pause filled the quiet room, and Larry let his hand
move down to his lap, and his fingers wrapped around his turgid meat,
slowly stroking the straining package. He stared at me, and I couldn't
resist letting my eyes drop to the hand action at his crotch, and he
smiled, then, said, very softly, "You want to see it, Dude?" I lifted my
eyes quickly to meet his, and tried to gauge his mood, was he serious, or
just playing with me, I wondered. One way to find the answer to that, I
decided, and looked straight into his eyes, and said, simply, "yes." Larry
paused for second or two, and my eyes returned to his lap, watching
intently, as he continued to slowly finger his cock, which was obviously
full hard inside the cut-offs. He suddenly moved both hands to the fly of
the jeans, and muttering, "Fuck it," he thumbed open the button, and drew
down the zipper. My eyes never even blinked, as I held my gaze on his
bulging lap, and I realized I had been holding my breath as I watched,
mesmerized.

   Larry's thatch of light brown pubic hair came into view, and I sucked in
a sharp breath, as I realized he wasn't wearing any underwear beneath the
cut-offs. It briefly crossed my mind that he might well have planned this
whole encounter, or at least harbored hope that the evening might possibly
hold something special in store. At this point I really didn't care if he
had engineered events, or not, I just really wanted things to continue
along the path he had begun. I glanced up, and our eyes met, and I saw the
questioning look in his eyes, as he quietly said, "Yes?" I nodded, and
returned my hungry gaze to his burgeoning lap, and passed my tongue across
my lips. He slid his hand inside the gaping fly, and moved it deeper, while
I watched his fingers spread along the length of his penis, then, move up
and down. "God damn...hard as a fuckin' rock..!" Larry grunted, and I
gulped, my unblinking stare trying to bore through the denim material of
his bulging shorts. Swallowing the copious amount of saliva that suddenly
flooded my mouth, I licked my lips again, and said, "Show me Larry, do it,
Dude...do it now!"

   Larry groaned, and slid his hand out of his open fly, then, gripped the
waist of the shorts in his fingers, his perky little butt lifting off the
sofa. My heart was pounding, causing a roaring in my ears, and I watched, a
strange hissing noise passing through my clenched teeth, as Larry tugged
downward on the small garment, and kicked it free of his feet. His cock
sprung free of its confine, and slapped noisily against his groin, rock
hard, and pulsing, the heavy tube at the underside of his turgid weapon
swollen, and throbbing. It was a truly beautiful piece of meat, an easy
seven inches in length, and thick, probably a good three inches in
girth. He was circumcised, and the mushroom shaped head flared wider than
the thick shaft. It was an angry shade of deep red, almost purple, and the
neat slit glistened with his leaking fluids. His balls were large, swelling
the full scrotum that hung between his smooth thighs, and there appeared to
be a light sprinkling of hair on the taut, slightly wrinkled, sac. He
leaned back into the cushions, and opened his legs wider, causing his balls
to shift, and settle back under his throbbing cock. His hands went flat on
the sofa at his sides, and he rolled his head back onto the sofa, and I
managed to tear my gaze away from his heart stopping wonder, to look into
his eyes. We stared at each other briefly, and I again gulped down a
mouthful of saliva, and licked my lips. His doe-like eyes followed the
movement of my tongue, and a sly little smile turned up the corners of his
mouth. "Awesome, Dude...plain, fucking, awesome!" I croaked, my throat
suddenly dry, and hungry. He sighed deeply, and rocked his head on the sofa
back, and mumbled, "Do it, Rob...oh, shit...just...fucking...do
it...please..!"

   Not wanting him to have the chance to change his mind, I quickly pushed
myself out of my chair, and dropped to the floor, scooting in between his
splayed legs. The incredible scent of him filled my senses, as I placed my
hands on the satin smooth skin of his inner thighs, and slowly slid them
upward. He groaned, and flinched slightly at the contact, then shuddered,
as I gently cupped his heavy balls in one hand, and wrapped the fingers of
the other around his pulsing cock. His cock felt almost hot to the touch,
and rock hard, the outer skin as soft, and smooth, as the engorged tissue
beneath was rigid. I moved my hand, gently stroking his big cock, as my
fingers lightly probed his plump sac, before fingering each large orb in
turn. He groaned again, muttering nonsensical phrases, as I milked his hot
meat, and I groaned myself, as I watched a pearl of his slick precum emerge
from the open slit of his cock head.

   Leaning into him, I swiped my tongue across the satin smooth head of his
cock, and felt the sting of my taste buds, as I registered the acrid flavor
of his man juice. I swiped it again, and he tensed, moaning loudly. I slid
my fingers down to the base of his shaft, and encircled it with thumb, and
finger, pumping the silky skin up and down, as I opened my mouth, and
slipped the big knob of his cock between my lips, sucking it firmly. Larry
grunted, and his slim hips bucked gently upward, as I paused, and suctioned
just the drooling head of his cock. I continued to move the skin over his
shaft in my fingers, and captured his fat balls in my other hand, tugging
them gently, as I moved my mouth down the length of his cock, swallowing
the spongy head into my throat. His hands balled into fists, and pounded
the sofa, as I swallowed several times, feeling his fat cock head banging
the soft tissue of my throat.

   His taste was amazing, pure, and fresh, and I withdrew back to the
crown, playing my tongue rapidly against the tiny "v" of his ridge. He
shuddered, and mumbled, "Holy shit..." As I again slowly took his full
length into my throat, as I continued to gently pummel his thick balls. I
shifted into a rhythm, then, moving my drooling mouth up and down his thick
meat, my tongue digging into his leaking slit each time I passed over the
head. His precum was flowing like a faucet gone bad, and the flavor, and
slickness of it was making me crazy to taste the rest of him. He briefly
grabbed at my head, and ran his fingers through my hair, as I continued to
suck him, feeling his rapid pulse as his cock throbbed inside my mouth.

   He shuddered again, and muttered my name, and I quickly released his
over charged weapon, and dropped down to lick his full balls. He again beat
his fists on the sofa, as I carefully sucked each swollen nugget, moving
back and forth between them. I moved back to his spitting cock then, and
held the thick shaft in my fingers, as I rubbed the silken head all over my
face, and lips, as I stared up into his wide eyes. Holding the steely shaft
in my fingers, I licked the smooth head repeatedly, and tongued the tight
little ridge of skin that encircled the head of his cock. He shuddered
strongly again, and thrust his hips at me, urging me to again engulf his
turgid weapon, and I did just that, sliding the entire beauty back inside
my mouth, and sucking it in rhythm, base to tip, and back again, as I ran
my fingers lightly over the inside of his thigh, and toyed with his aching
balls.

   After maybe ten minutes of this sweet torture, his hips were bucking in
sync with my sucking movements, and his hands came out to once again hold
my head. I felt his shaft thicken between my battered lips, and his balls
suddenly drew upward inside the sac. He groaned, a painful wail, and thrust
strongly upward, as his thick cock erupted, and jetted burst, after burst,
of his thick discharge over my tongue, and into my rapidly gulping
throat. He continued the soulful wail, now a staccato rhythm that
punctuated each burst of his thick cum, as he produced it, in a seemingly
endless quantity. I gulped, only to instantly have my mouth again flooded,
and gulped again, tears running from my eyes, as I struggled to keep pace
with his exploding cum. Finally, he was drained, and the rapid fire
emission ceased, and he flopped back against the sofa, gasping, and sucking
in huge gulps of air. I continued to suckle his wilting cock, milking his
now sagging balls with my fingers, until he tugged at my hair with his
fingers, mewing softly, and deploring me to stop, he was just too spent,
and sensitive. I released his soft cock from my mouth, and held it gently,
pressing my lips to the soft head, to capture one last tear drop of his
milky cum, then backed off, and gazed up at him. He looked down at me, and
shook his head side to side, and muttered, "Jusus H. Christ..no wonder
dudes like being gay...that...so...rocks!" I smiled, and gently pinched the
head of his still impressive cock, and said, "I don't know about the gay
thing...but..like I told you...I do enjoy sucking a hot cock...and...this
one...is definitely..hot!!

   And so both young Larry and I got pretty much what we wanted. His tenor
with the team lasted the rest of that year, and, when the planets properly
aligned, or the moon was full, or Larry just had to experience the ecstasy
of a consummate blow job administered to completion by an admitted
cocksucker, he paid me a visit. It turned out to be a definite win-win
arrangement, and we successfully kept it just between us...all seven inches
of it!

The End
Storyguy22@yahoo.com