Casual Cock
This completely fictional tale
revolves around male teenage genitalia and adult male appreciation of such
genitalia and must therefore not be read by any in possession of genitalia
below the age of eighteen. It is perfectly legal in many parts of the world for
boys well below the age of eighteen to use their genitals, but not legal for
them to read online about doing so, and the author consequently urges any such
potential reader to search elsewhere for literary stimulation.
Casual Cock
A tale by Ivor Sukwell
It is an acknowledged fact that any teenage boy walking along a country
road miles from anywhere as twilight slowly fades to dark must be in want of a
lift, and any teenage boy in want of a lift may be reasonably presumed to be
aware of the price of a lift.
That was the driver's philosophy, and it seemed to be the boy's as well
as he opened the passenger door and climbed aboard without a word. He had some
small difficulty with the seatbelt as it wasn't one of the type commonly fitted
to cars, but the car wasn't a common car either; in fact it was a pretty fair
bet that the boy had never seen one like it as it was somewhere around three
times as old as he was.
There hadn't been all that many Lotus Europas made, and even fewer left
still working, which, the driver thought, was something of a shame as the ancient
vehicle could have been designed specifically to pick up teenage boys for the
purpose of molestation.
In its day it had been a `super car', its power and low slung looks
sufficient to tempt any teenage boy inside, and once inside, the semi-reclining
bucket seat put that tempted boy in a perfect position to be molested.
The low roof and somewhat restricted inside space meant that any
passenger was obliged to sit back in the seat, legs outstretched, and with the
full racing seat belt harness in place, a boy was nicely restrained with his
groin in the ideal location to be groped by an
investigating driver's hand.
The driver didn't make a habit of picking up boys in order to molest
them, but that was largely due to the fact that the number of boys found walking
along a country road, even in broad daylight, was distressingly small and
nothing at all to do with the fact that the driver did make a habit of
molesting boys whenever he was lucky enough to find a molestable one.
Picked up boys, the driver did know from his limited boy picking up
experience, tended to fall into one of three categories: there were those who
declined to be picked up because they knew the price of a lift and had no wish
to pay it; there were those who, incredibly, were unaware of the cost and when
made aware of it declared that they'd prefer to walk; there were those who knew
the price and did not want to walk.
This boy, since he had got into the car and eventually worked out how to
restrain himself, clearly did not fit into category one, but whether he was
category two or three had yet to be determined.
He was, the driver estimated, some fifteen years old, though, as the
driver well knew, it is not easy to be precise when guessing at a mid-teen
boy's exact age, especially in the almost dark, and he could well be a year out
either way, but sixteen or fourteen was as good as fifteen, with the possible
advantages that at sixteen the boy would be legal and at fourteen be both a
little smoother and a little hornier as well.
Who the boy was the driver had no idea, and, to be honest, he didn't
care; all that mattered was that he was a mid-teen boy and therefore in
possession of the mid-teen boy bits and pieces that the driver so enjoyed
playing with, and might, or might not, be willing for those bits and pieces to
be played with.
The boy was clothed appropriately for a warm summer evening – polo shirt
and football shorts, the sort of shorts that though they reach right down to
the knee are made of thin and somewhat stretchy cotton and easy enough to get a
hand up inside.
The lack of a backpack or any other sort of bag seemed to indicate that
the boy was not doing a runner from anywhere, though as he must have walked two
miles from the last village and it was just over four miles from the next habitation,
what the boy was doing on this country road as darkness fell might easily have
been part of a mystery or detective novel.
The boy did not seem to feel that explanation was necessary and had yet
to utter a single word, but as the road led only to the next hamlet with no
turn offs as it made its way through woods extensive enough to warrant being
called a forest, a declaration of destination was probably not necessary.
The driver reached for his gear lever and in doing so the knuckles of his
left hand made contact with the bare skin of the boy's right knee.
The driver did not have to make that contact; it was utterly intentional,
an initial warning or reminder that there was a price to be paid for lifts.
The boy did not react; no slight instinctive flinching away from
unintentional contact, no shifting of position to remove knee from possible
future contact or alternatively to ensure that there would be further contact
made.
The car moved and the driver shifted into second, and this time he
extended his little finger so it rested and brushed against boy knee, a clear
indication that the driver expected payment for acting as a taxi.
Again the boy showed no reaction; either he was totally innocent and
stupid with it or he knew what the taxi fare was, and was prepared to pay it.
The boy was a mid-teen and may well be utterly stupid, but the chances of
him being totally innocent at that age were somewhere around absolute zero and
the driver shifted through third and into top with further, slightly more
extensive finger touches to boy knee and slightly above knee, all producing no
reaction at all from the boy.
The driver felt justified in assuming that the boy's lack of adverse
reaction was sufficient indication that he knew what a taxi ride cost and was
prepared to pay his fare, so after shifting into top he did not replace his
left hand on the steering wheel and instead placed it fully on boy knee, moving
it slowly upwards so it rested comfortably on lower boy right thigh.
The car's headlights lanced through the growing darkness as driver hand
slipped higher, bunching up the thin cotton of the boy's shorts rather than
actually delving under, deliberately giving the boy the opportunity to haggle
over the eventual cost of his ride.
The boy said nothing, did nothing as his right thigh was manually
admired, and indeed, the driver thought, it was boy thigh worthy of manual –
and probably visual as well, though the darkness now prevented that –
admiration.
Warm and smooth to the touch it was boy thigh as the driver liked boy
thigh to be.
Generally speaking, the driver liked his boys to be mid-teen; he was
perfectly willing to go down to thirteen if one of those came his way – as a
rule they were smoother than boys a year or so older, which was a plus, but
they generally had fairly small cocks to go with their lack of pubic hair and
the driver did like a decent handful and mouthful, and, it had to be confessed,
arseful as well from time to time.
Sixteen tended to be his upper limit simply because boys older than that
often had far too much hair on their legs to be really enjoyable, so fourteen
and fifteen were his favourite, boys with decently sized cocks capable of
feeding him nice, creamy loads and still without enough hair on them to spoil
his enjoyment of them.
This one, whatever his actual age was, seemed just about ideal. His
thighs may have peach fuzz on them, but certainly nothing to spoil their feel
and little enough to hint that pubic hair would not yet be over-extensive,
though it was probably too much to hope that his balls would still be smooth,
so if it came to sucking then that was likely to have to be confined to cock
only.
The driver hoped that when he got there he would find a complete cock.
Naturally, he would play with, wank and suck a circumcised one if that's what
he found – complete ones with nice long foreskins were the best to play with
and wank, and far better visually as well, but there was next to no difference
when they were in the mouth and no difference at all when up the arse, so cut
or uncut, the driver took whatever boy cock he could get.
His problem now was how to get at the one this boy had.
He could, of course, continue the upward journey of his left hand, going
up and under the leg of the boy's thin cotton shorts, but once up inside he would
encounter whatever underwear the boy had on.
Boxers, though they did allow a boy to dangle, were notoriously difficult
to get inside via the leg. They weren't made of nice, thin stretchy cotton like
football shorts are and getting fingers and hand inside, especially when a boy
is seated, is, at the very best, clumsy and boy cock has to be grabbed and
dragged out unceremoniously and even uncomfortably before it can be properly
appreciated.
Briefs, though they hold a boy's possessions fairly tightly, are easier
to enter from below and cock can be quite easily pulled out into the air, but
not so the balls – they need fingering and pulling before they can be released
from their cotton prison and balls are very sensitive items, discomfort easily
caused if handled wrongly or carelessly.
The alternative is to go in from the top, but shoving a hand down inside
the elasticated waist band of a boy's shorts hardly classes as either subtle or
seductive, though it does have the advantage that both shorts and underwear can
be entered in the same move.
After some half a mile of unobjected to feeling of warm, smooth boy
thigh, the driver settled on entry from the waist
downwards, and if he was surprised by the boy's continued lack of reaction he
did not object to it and slipped his hand inside and down to the prize within.
The boy made no attempt either to facilitate or deny entry, he didn't
draw his stomach in to make more room for hand to get inside, nor did he
attempt to use a hand of his own to deny molestation. He simply sat and let it
happen.
The prize, when located, seemed to be a prize worth having; the driver's
descending hand had encountered only a modicum of pubic hair and though it was
still soft, the boy's cock filled his hand pleasingly. Finger and thumb exploration
discovered foreskin, much to the driver's satisfaction, and soft cock began to
swell in the hand that held it.
Hard, it was more than a simple handful – the driver estimated some six,
fairly slender inches, plenty for all the uses he might wish to put it to – and
even when what had to be fully upright, the head remained pleasingly hooded.
Now the next difficulty presented itself. The boy's cock could be quite
reasonably felt and squeezed some, but confined as it was inside underwear and
shorts there simply wasn't enough room to deal with it as a hard boy cock needs
and deserves to be dealt with.
The driver could, of course, use his wrist to force the waist bands of
shorts and underwear below the boy's balls and hope that elasticity and
tightness would keep them there while fully exposed cock was seen to, but that
had no appeal – again the possibility of boy discomfort and the even worse
possibility that underwear and shorts would not stay in place and return
upwards, seriously impeding cock enjoyment.
The best answer was, of course, to get both shorts and underwear down,
preferably down below knees so cock, balls and legs could be manually savoured
without material interference, but doing that without the boy's compliance
whilst driving a narrow country road was not entirely risk free.
To date the boy had neither complied with nor resisted in any way his
molestation, simply sitting and accepting it and the driver had no expectations
that would change, so if he wanted the boy's shorts and underwear down below
his knees he would have to contrive to do that unaided – no easy task one
handed with a sitting boy while driving a car.
He knew that asking the boy for his co-operation was not in order, not
because the boy would necessarily refuse such a request – he seemed content
enough to have his cock felt and played with – but because his total silence
and his unresponsive behaviour gave the driver the distinct impression that he
could do anything he wanted as long as he did not expect the boy to participate
in any way.
That should have been both irritating and frustrating, but instead it was
surprisingly erotic; the boy was there to be played with in the same way as any
other toy was played with, used and enjoyed and then discarded and forgotten.
The driver moved his hand from boy cock to boy left hip, gripping and
tugging downwards the elasticated tops of both shorts and briefs, succeeding in
dragging them down an inch or so, and then moved across to right hip, repeating
the process.
It was far from subtle, but with the boy sitting with hard cock and
pouched up balls fully exposed and uncomplainingly available for use, subtlety
wasn't really necessary.
The driver had hoped that the boy would take the hint, lift his bum off
the seat a fraction to facilitate his full exposure and then settle back to
enjoy the feeling and wanking that would follow, but in that hope the driver
was disappointed.
The boy did nothing; he did not ease himself up a little and so enable
the getting down of his shorts and underwear, nor did he push himself more
firmly in his seat in order to prevent it. He simply sat in his semi-reclining
seat, hands resting on his stomach.
The message was clear: "you want to get them down – fine by me, but
you've got to get them down by yourself."
Far from being deterred by the boy's lack of co-operation, the driver was
inspired. The boy's six or so teen slender inches were pulsingly hard, far too
hard to be unwillingly hard – cock only got that hard when it wanted to be used
– so the driver was not assailed by any doubts or worries that the boy may be a
reluctant giver, rather he understood that the boy wanted to be had rather than
just give.
That was fine by the driver; it added to the horniness; something similar
in a way to the extra thrill he got when he did a boy in the boy's own bed
while the boy's parents were out shopping or still at work.
It was a challenge, and would have been mission impossible if the boy had
been wearing a different kind of shorts, but the thin, stretchy cotton of
football shorts is just that little bit shiny and slippery and inch by inch,
the driver struggled them down under the mounds of the boy's arse cheeks, and
once that had been achieved the rest was easy.
The driver had to keep the car on the road, so he could only manage to
get the unwanted garments down as far as the boy's knees, but that was far
enough for him to be able to enjoy the full length of teen boy thigh and the
wonderful hard length that sprouted where torso ends and legs begin.
The driver's hand relished the smooth-to-the-touch boy thigh, all the way
from knee to groin and back down again to knee so boy thigh could be upwardly
relished again. It wasn't simply lustful relishing, though lust was certainly
involved; the driver's left hand adored the boy flesh it was feeling and
stroking. Forget the obvious glory of a teen boy's cock, forget the siren call
of his tight boy hole; those are things are there to
be used for sex, but no way are they as sexy as a boy's legs.
The swelling curve from knee to hip is both a self-contained delight and
an invitation to the mind to imagine the more obvious delights above; a boy's
legs can entice a man into his bed far more efficiently than fluttering
eyelashes or tongue-licked lips will ever do.
With the boy's thighs now fully exposed and somewhat relished, the driver
was able to concentrate his lustful admiration of teenage boy on his hard
centre, not forgetting or ignoring the much softer, rolling delight of ample,
and hopefully well-filled, boy balls.
All teen boy cocks, even the mutilated ones, are a wonder and a joy for
any man who appreciates the sublime and unique glory of teenage boys, but some
wonders and joys are even greater than others and the one the driver now
worshipped with his hand was amongst the very best.
Wonderfully hard, it rose straight and firm from its small nest of pubic
hair for at least four of its six inches before curving ever so slightly
upwards to the helmet ridge. The driver could not help but contemplate the
added thrill that little upward curve would cause when the cock was buried to
the root inside an arse, the curve ensuring that the tip would always make
contact with prostate and stimulate that with the entire head, a little extra
something added as ridge gave a parting rub on each inward thrust, the process
reversed as cock was pulled back to thrust in again.
Hard as it was, there was still a bud of foreskin at the tip, and the
driver gently rubbed a finger tip over that bud, knowing he was giving the boy
sensations no circumcised boy could ever feel. So many millions of nerve
endings cluster in that bud, that, in the driver's opinion, it was nothing
short of sadistic cruelty to deprive a boy of his foreskin.
The driver took cock helmet between thumb and forefinger, gently easing
foreskin back; gently because some boys with long foreskins have tight
foreskins and the driver had no wish to cause the boy discomfort. Half of the
slender torpedo head was exposed before foreskin resistance was felt, and the
driver stopped there; he guessed the boy could be fully peeled with a little
extra force, but saw no need to do that – skin covered cock was nicer and
easier to play with and the boy would last longer if the ultra-sensitive glans
was left still covered.
The driver's left hand did all it could to let the boy know that his
wonderful cock was not just being played with, it was being worshipped as boy
cock should be worshipped, but the boy gave no indication that he understood
this, he simply sat and permitted things to happen.
The boy's behaviour was unusual, but the driver began to understand the
boy cunning of it. The Law, Society in general and Boy Society in particular
stated quite clearly and with no qualifications or exceptions, that teenage
boys should not sit in cars and be wanked off by men, but if a boy did not
verbally consent to, or assist in any way his being wanked, then the boy had no
reason to feel guilty in any way. Yes, he'd been wanked
by a man in a car, but it had not been his fault, he'd done nothing to feel
guilty about, it had just been something that happened.
There was nothing to make a fuss about, nothing to complain about; all
that had happened was that a man had done for him what he'd have done for
himself a little later on. All he had to do was simply let it happen; he was
nothing more than just a bit of casual cock, and what was wrong about that?
Whether he enjoyed it or not was a matter entirely between himself and his
cock.
The driver had no objections to casual cock. In many ways casual cock was
the best sort of cock – provided, of course, that it was teen boy cock; he had
no interest at all in any older or younger sort of cock. Casual cock could be
had and enjoyed with no strings attached; no awkward later meetings with the
owner of that cock, no expectations from that owner of anything more serious,
no embarrassing pleas to become a proper boyfriend with all that that entailed.
Where the driver's thought differed from the boy's was in what was to be
done with casual cock. The boy reasoned that he was only having done to him something
that he could, and did, do for himself, but unless he was a very supple boy,
there was something the driver wanted to do that the boy would not be able to
do for himself.
All teen cock, casual or regular, is worthy of oral as well as manual
admiration, but some teen cocks are more worthy than others and the one the
driver was exploring now felt very worthy indeed.
There were no little side roads or lanes, only the odd rough track
leading from the country road, and those were tracks for LandRovers,
not for Lotus Europas, but there was one reasonably flat gravelled track that
led to a small space, also gravelled, where a few cars could be parked by
adventurous people determined on a walk in the woods.
At nights that small, tree surrounded space was sometimes used by people
looking for a different kind of adventure and the driver had used it
occasionally when he had the opportunity to become more fully acquainted with a
casual cock.
The boy showed no more reaction when the car slowed and turned off the country
road than he had when his shorts and underwear were tugged down; probably, the
driver assumed, he was just anticipating that the driver was looking for
somewhere convenient to stop so he could wank him properly.
In that, the boy was reasonably justified; the semi-reclined bucket seat
and racing harness restraint put him in an ideal position to be wanked, but the
interior of the Lotus made it impossible for full and complete use to be made
of a boy so he would have no concerns that his arse would come into play.
The boy simply sat and stared straight ahead as the driver manoeuvred the
Lotus into a parked position – the driver needed to use both hands on the wheel
to accomplish this but the boy made no attempt to restore clothing to his
temporarily unattended cock, he just waited till the car was parked, closed his
eyes and waited to be wanked.
Possibly he didn't notice the soft `click'
when the driver released his own safety harness, possibly he assumed that the
shifting in the seat beside him was just the driver getting comfortable so he
could wank him properly as he sat patiently waiting for that to happen. He
could not, however, completely restrain a little squeak of surprise when it
wasn't driver hand that went for his hard teen boy cock but driver head
instead, and he failed totally to prevent the sudden, audible intake of breath
when instead of hand, his cock found itself in the warm wetness of a mouth.
Getting sucked rates considerably higher on the cock pleasure scale than
does getting wanked and the boy found some difficulty in maintaining the
pretence of indifference and passive acceptance when his cock was swallowed
whole.
The boy had been casual cock before, not often but it had happened, but,
till now, he had been only wanked casual cock. A car had stopped for him, he
got in and sooner or later his cock was felt and he just let it happen; he
understood perfectly well that lifts cost cock and he had no objection to
paying. He wasn't gay, queer, homo, or anything like that, he was just a mid-teen
boy who'd found a way of allowing his cock to get some forbidden, guilt free
attention.
Mostly it was just having his cock fished out of his jeans' zip or out
from the leg of his shorts and played with, though once a driver had pulled
into a quiet layby and given him a proper wank and
his spunk had gone all over his jeans, but the stains had looked no different
from all the other stains on them and disappeared when they were washed.
As long as he never said anything, gave no indication of any sort that he
enjoyed having his cock played with – and enjoyed it even more that one time
when it was properly wanked – he never suffered any brain ache after; it was
just something that had happened, easily dismissed as not being of any
importance.
This was different!
Try as he did, the boy could not help little squeaks and gasps coming as
he was sucked. He could maintain a facade of complete indifference while he was
being played with, had even managed to do that the one time he'd been properly
wanked, even when his spunk shot out he never made any noise, but a mouth round
his cock was in a different league altogether from a hand round it.
The driver smiled to himself as his oral attention to the boy's
delightful cock produced those little gasps and squeaks, audible evidence that
no matter what he wanted to pretend, the boy loved having his cock sucked.
Of course, all teenage boys love having their cocks sucked – possibly the
same may be true of pre-teen boys and adult men; the driver had no personal,
first-hand knowledge of those, though his own cock did appreciate a teenage boy
mouth from time to time, but unfortunately, casual cock rarely came with a
mouth – and a mouth-virgin boy is utterly blown away (literally and
metaphorically) when his cock finds itself in a mouth that knows what to do
with teenage cock.
The driver had sucked plenty of teenage cock before and had no doubt at
all what that first squeak and hiss of indrawn breath signified – the cock he
had gone down on had never been in mouth before, the squeak and hiss were ones
of shock, amazement and wonder and the driver considered it to be his duty to
turn shock, amazement and wonder into plain, simple addiction.
His first swallow had taken in the boy right down to the root; no problem
for the driver with a slender six inches – he hadn't sucked many longer than
that but he had sucked plenty that were thicker – but the driver had worked out
that the boy had no wish to actively participate and if he kept the boy in his
throat then the boy would have no option but to commence fucking movements and
that would destroy whatever fantasy the boy had created for himself that was
allowing him to pay his fare.
Thus the driver came up and concentrated on the head, using suctioning
lips and swirling tongue to begin the creation of an addiction that is far
stronger and more long-lasting than that of any drug.
A never-before-sucked boy rarely lasts for long in his first mouth, but
the driver was an expert in teen boy cock sucking and knew how to detect the
first signs of impending orgasm, and so his lips and tongue edged the boy and
then edged him again and again.
The boy was becoming desperate; he wanted to scream, "Let me cum!" but he
was committed to silence and could do no more than try to stifle a groan each
time his spunk was allowed to settle back in his balls, only to be coaxed up
again moments later by lips and tongue.
He also had the problem of deciding what to do when his spunk did finally
manage to escape. He had no knowledge at all of cock sucking, no understanding
that a man sucks a boy not for the simple pleasure of having teen boy cock in
his mouth alone but for the exquisite pleasure of having teen boy spunk squirt
in his mouth because men who suck teen boys' cocks regard teen spunk as the
elixir of the Gods.
Should he declare his spunk was on the way? Should he just pull his cock
from the mouth that was sucking it? Either of those actions would destroy the
illusion of passive acceptance, probably lead to later feelings of guilt and
stop him from ever accepting a lift again or turn him from casual cock into
willing and available cock, and teenage boys are not supposed to be willing and
available cock.
Silence and passivity were his only options, and after he'd been edged so
many times that it was almost an exquisite form of torture, his spunk finally
burst free, spurting violently into the mouth that sucked him.
The boy's spunk was wonderful! Thick and copious from so much edging,
with the inimitable flavour that only teen boy spunk can have, it gave the
driver a magnificent mouthful that was swirled around to extract all the
flavour before it was allowed to trickle down his throat.
The boy was astounded when he recovered sufficiently to realise that his
spunk had been eaten! Is that what men did, eat the spunk when they sucked a
boy? Why did they do that? Was spunk nice to eat? The boy had only ever thought
of spunk as being something that had to be wiped up after a wank, never even
dreamed that it was something to eat!
He wanted to ask the driver about it, know why his spunk had been eaten,
but he couldn't do that without speaking and he couldn't speak without
destroying his illusion.
The driver didn't say a word either, he just started the engine, put the
car in gear and drove slowly back to the country road, and when he got there,
as the boy had made no move to restore his shorts and underwear to their usual
position, he put his left hand back on the boy's right thigh.
Four miles left to drive to the hamlet ahead, four miles at a speed no
greater than thirty miles an hour, eight minutes at least left for boy fondling
time and the driver allowed four of those minutes to pass before he went again
for teen boy cock.
It was soft now, of course, but time enough had passed for it to be not
still too sensitive to touch, and for four more minutes
driver and boy enjoyed the wonder of teen boy cock in man hand.
Soft teen boy cock has a wonder of its own; different from but no less
wonderful than the wonder of hard teen boy cock and the driver used those four
minutes to allow his hand to convey his thanks to the boy for permitting him to
enjoy his teen boy cock and eat his delicious teen boy spunk.
The driver stopped at the edge of the hamlet, allowing the boy to get out
and walk the rest of his way home; it could be awkward for boys, the driver
knew, if parents saw them getting out of a stranger's car.
"Thanks for the lift," the boy said.
"You're welcome," the driver replied.
isukwell@hotmail.co.uk