Date: Sat, 09 Dec 2023 13:12:06 -0800 From: Rob Diehl Subject: Trying to Give it Up, part 2 True to my prediction I could barely sleep that night. Even hours after I'd left Fred's it still felt like that rubber cock was inside me. This really wasn't a problem. I was also amazingly relaxed and at peace. I didn't really talk to my parents that night, but that wasn't unusual. We were used to going our own way. I spent the evening in my room, reliving the day. Jason had been right about Fred. So I guess he *didn't* lie about everything. But then again ... how did he know? Was it just a lucky guess? Or ... had he done stuff with Fred too? I wanted to ask Jason but there was no way to do so without letting him know that something had happened between Fred and me. And I couldn't stop thinking of the sort of fear I saw in Fred's eyes right after he told me he was gay. He said he'd make it "worth my while" to keep that secret. What did he mean by that? Would he pay me to keep my mouth shut about it? My mind just started to race and race. I was torn between reliving the pleasure I had experienced and fearing what was to come. What if we got caught? Everyone in town would know -- not just about Fred, but about me too. What if I didn't like getting fucked? I guessed that wouldn't be such a big deal -- everybody tries stuff they wind up not liking -- but somehow this seemed different. What if he hurt me? What if I asked him to stop and he didn't stop? What if he changed his mind between the afternoon and the morning? What if he wanted to take pictures of me too? I wasn't too keen on that. So many things, so many ways this could all go wrong. The sensible part of me was trying to say "don't go back." But the sensual part of me kept asking if it was morning yet, or at least morning enough to justify getting up. Yet it seemed like the hands on my alarm clock weren't even moving. Eventually I fell into a sort of delirium that wasn't really sleep. It was more like the edges of reality were going soft and everything was getting blurred. I thought I had already put a lot at risk just to satisfy my curiosity. It would be many years before I realized how much Fred had put at risk to satisfy my curiosity. As I approached sleep my mind centered on the rubber cock that had been inside me a few hours ago. It touched parts of me that had literally never been touched before -- and I had very much liked it, just like the book had predicted. I thought about Fred's cock too and realized that I'd actually not gotten a very good look at it. It felt magnificent and firm in my hand and watching his cum fly a couple feet in front of him was truly awe-inspiring. He had said "we'll suck each other first" and I got nervously excited about that. I had no idea how to suck a cock or if I would like it or what. But I was willing to try. And then there was intercourse. I imagined what that might be like. That made me powerfully excited, I could see myself on all fours just waiting for Fred's cock to go ... "Bradley?" my mom asked, forcing me out of my almost-sleep. Right when it was getting good too. "What, Mom?" "Are you getting up? It's almost 8 in the morning. Are you alright? You're not sick, are you?" "No, Mom," I said. I felt fine. Physically. Mentally I was a bit of a wreck, but I certainly wasn't sick. "Okay. Well, Dad and I are leaving, we'll be home around the usual time. Don't let any strangers in and lock the doors if you go outside." "I will, Mom." I looked at the alarm clock. It said 4:35. But ... the sun was up? And Mom said it was almost 8? Wait, it wasn't even ticking! I hadn't wound it before I went to bed like I usually did. So I wasn't imagining that the hands weren't moving. They really weren't. I felt so stupid. I must have been distracted or something! I heard our car start and pull out of the driveway. I was alone for the day now. "Poop, then take a shower, and be sure to scrub out your crack." Those were Fred's instructions, and you had better believe I was going to follow them. But first I was going to have breakfast. About halfway through my cereal the thought entered my head: "Brad, you're going to get fucked today." Any lingering tiredness left me after the rush of adrenaline that thought produced. I was still nervous as hell. But I was also pretty sure I was ready. I went to the bedroom and took off all my clothes. There was no one here, there was no one going to be here, and I not so secretly have always loved being naked, so I walked all the way through the house to the bathroom in the buck. My penis was sort of hard but not all the way hard. My heart was beating noticeably faster than usual too. I sat down on the toilet, praying that I would take a good dump. That prayer was answered, swiftly, and the less said about that the better. Then I got in the shower, scrubbing myself thoroughly from head to toe. At the very end of the shower I went to work on my crack and my butthole. I wanted them to be nice and neat and fresh for Fred. I got out of the shower, dried myself off and walked, naked and still dripping a bit, back through the house. I opened my underwear drawer and was a bit taken aback to realize that for the first time in my life it might actually matter what underwear I was wearing. I'd never really given it any thought before. I had choices. What I didn't have was an idea which pair was the right pair. I found myself wishing I had one of those skimpy little bathing suits like the Brazilian boys had, one that was tight enough that Fred could see my cock right through it. I bet that really would have turned him on. But without even investigating I knew there was no place to buy that sort of suit in our town. I settled on a light-blue pair of briefs that were more brief than the tighty whities my grandmother gave me every Christmas. (Even at eleven I already knew those were unflattering and unsexy, at least on me.) I got dressed. It was time to leave. Wasn't it? We had never really said what time I should come back. I thought about calling Fred but the number would show up on the phone bill. Instead I decided to be brave for once and just go over there. It was only three blocks between my house and Fred's but it seemed ten times further that morning. I was so eager and nervous that I wanted to take off running but I'd have been sweaty by the time I got there. So I walked, trying to avoid calling any attention to myself. Soon I was at Fred's house. I rang the doorbell. I wondered if the doorbell somehow sounded nervous. It had to have. Fred opened the door, dressed in an untucked golf shirt and black slacks. "Come on in, Bradley," he said, warmly yet also nervously. "Did you sleep alright?" "Not really," I answered. I wanted to say I had but I remembered I'd already told him I try to be honest. "Yeah, well, I didn't sleep very well either." Something wasn't right. He didn't seem playful or encouraging or anything. I thought the most likely reason was that he was tired but I was too nervous not to go immediately to the worst case scenario. I was ready for him to send me home, telling me he'd changed his mind. "Is something wrong, Fred? Did I do something wrong yesterday?" "No, you're fine. But I forgot to tell you something." What was it? He looked scared. "You didn't ... tell anybody about what we did yesterday, did you?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Oh, nothing. I just forgot to tell you to keep quiet about it. I should really trust you but, well, I have a lot to lose, you know." "I know, Fred," I said. "Don't worry. I won't tell. I don't want anyone to wreck our fun." He brightened at that. "Oh, marvelous! I so enjoyed what we did yesterday. I just got very nervous because, well ... have you ever heard the saying 'Don't shit where you eat'?" I was baffled. "No, I can't say I have. What does it mean?" Fred chuckled. "Well, in this case it means that I've never done stuff with any boys around here, just overseas. I have to protect myself but I got so excited yesterday that I sort of threw caution to the wind." "So did I," I said. "But ... I'm glad I did." He smiled warmly, then tousled my hair. "Me too," he said. "You know I'll never hurt you, right?" "I know." "Well, good." Once again it got really silent. I knew I didn't know what to say to get things started. It would again be years before I realize he didn't have any more of an idea than I had. "So," I said, "you only get to have sex when you're overseas?" "Oh no," he said. "Remember, I prefer adult men." "Okay. Are there a lot of gay men around here? Because you're the only one I know." Fred looked up at the ceiling and stroked his chin. "I guess that depends on what you mean by 'gay.' There are not any other gay men that I'm aware of. There are a couple of guys who I think are pretty obviously gay but they're not open about it. I'm not going to push the issue with them." "Okay, so there's really not anybody?" "There's no one here I could go on a date with, or consider a partner, like I had when I was in grad school. But there are men who will have sex with another man. They're almost all married. I don't mind. That's between them and their wives. They're happy to let me suck them off, and a few will fuck me. Honestly, I probably have more sex than the average man my age in this town!" I laughed. "I guess you're pretty lucky then!" "I'm certainly not complaining. There's nobody keeping me awake with his snoring either. Being single isn't the worst thing. You remember that, Bradley!" "I'll try! So it's actually pretty easy to find a guy to mess around with?" He looked pensive. "Hmm. Well, not so easy as it used to be. When you're young and gorgeous it's very easy. When you get older and flabbier you have to be less picky," he said. "Fortunately, I never was very picky to begin with!" Fred almost looked like he regretted saying that, so I assumed it must be true. He shifted in his seat. "I was so nervous last night that I forgot to give you the tube of lube I promised you. I'm sorry about that." "Oh, you don't have to worry," I said. "I was ... pretty satisfied when I went home last night, if you know what I mean." "Well. I certainly was too." "Did I masturbate you okay?" "We call it a hand job, Bradley. You did fine, though as you noticed you certainly didn't have to do very much!" I laughed. "No, I sure didn't!" "I was not expecting what happened yesterday to happen," he said. "But I'm glad it did." "So am I," I said. He looked down at the floor, then back up at me. "Did you follow my instructions?" "Yes sir!" He smiled broadly, then motioned me over. "Come here and sit on my lap?" he asked. I got up and walked over. As I was about to sit down, he stopped me. "Take off your shorts, but please, leave your underwear on?" So I did. "Your shirt too?" I lifted it over my head and dropped it on the floor, so I was only wearing my underwear. Fred looked me up one side and down the next. I knew he was eyeing me up. I was hoping he liked what he saw. He spent a long, long time looking at my crotch, where my cock was stiffening. "Sit down," he said warmly. I sat across his lap. I could feel his cock, semi-hard, underneath my thighs. It felt exciting. He started stroking my hair with one hand, wrapping his other arm around my waist. He wasn't trying to hold me down or anything, it was just a tender moment. He started to look in my eyes. "You're a beautiful boy, Bradley." "Thank you ... you're handsome too, Fred." He wrapped me in a hug. I returned it. It just felt right. It was weird, me being in just my underwear and him being dressed like he was going to a cookout or something, but I didn't care. And the longer we held each other, the more turned on I got. Eventually he loosened his hug. "I want to show you some other things," he said. "Hang on. And please, stand up!" So I did. He got up and left the room. He was gone a while, long enough that my penis got soft again. But I didn't mind that. I was more interested in what might happen next. What was he going to show me? He came back carrying a large box, but that wasn't the first thing I noticed. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing only a pair of dark-blue briefs that were even skimpier and tighter than mine. I could see his cock, and his scrotum. It about stopped my heart, he looked so beautiful, even though he was far from being a hardbody. And I felt a lot more comfortable now that I wasn't the only one who was in just his undies. "What's in the box?" I asked, which was foolish, because obviously he was just about to show me. "Oh, some pictures. And some magazines. And a couple video tapes," he said. "Of what?" "Men, some of them having sex with each other. I thought we could look at them together. I know you've read about sex but sometimes you can learn more by looking and watching. Of course," he chuckled, "some things you just have to learn by doing!" "Ha! Yeah, I'm sure! But yeah, I'd like to see." He took out a magazine that looked fairly old and beat-up. It said "American Boys" on the cover. He turned past the first few pages, men stripping off and showing their cocks. Some of those cocks were huge. Like, painfully huge, at least in my mind. "Wow, they've got big wieners," I said absentmindedly. "Don't they, though? Aren't their cocks gorgeous?" "Yeah! They are! Even the normal ones!" He turned more pages. The men were gorgeous, but they were alone. Some of them bent over for the camera, showing off their hairy butts and holes. Even those turned me on. I started to wonder if maybe someday I'd fuck a guy myself. Then he turned the page to show a guy sliding a dildo up his own butt. "Ohh," I said. "You like that, Bradley?" "I liked when you did it to me yesterday!" He squeezed my shoulder. "I liked doing it," he said. I looked at the magazine more intently. The dildo was much, much bigger than the rubber cock Fred had put in me. The model looked like he was in paradise. "I can't believe he got that whole thing inside him!" I said. "I know, isn't that amazing?" I almost said "I bet that felt good" but I was worried Fred would think poorly of that. So I kept it to myself. "I bet that felt good," Fred said. I'd been so focused on the fact that he said he wanted to fuck me that I had forgotten he liked being fucked, too. "Yeah. I mean, I bet that really hurt going in." "It depends," Fred said. "Sometimes you're really relaxed so if a dildo -- that's what we call a rubber cock -- is well-lubricated, it goes in very easily, without pain. But sometimes you do everything right and it still hurts, at least at first." "What about a real cock? Are they different?" "Yes. They're harder, obviously, but also, there's a man on the other end of it." "What do you mean?" "Sometimes men ... just decide they're not going to give up. It doesn't happen very often, thank God. And again, I will NEVER do that to you." I smiled at him. "Thank you. I am a little nervous about that. I'm just curious ... have you ever seen real cocks as big as some of these in the magazine?" I asked. "Bigger," he said, which made my eyes widen. "But they're rare. Most men are average, which is why they call it average. My cock is, I guess, perfectly normal for an adult. It just seems small to me, and to a lot of men who want to bottom." "Bottom?" "Be penetrated. Get fucked. It's less clinical and less vulgar to call it 'bottoming.'" "So the other guy is ... topping?" "Yes! That's exactly it!" I was kind of proud of myself, though I guess it wasn't that tough to figure out. "Well, the dildo felt plenty big to me." He blushed. "I'm glad to hear that." "Do bigger ones feel even better?" "Sometimes," he said, "but really all cocks are nice. And if you have a choice, I think thickness is more important than length." "Really?" "Yeah," he sighed, dreamily. "Sorry. Just remembering a really good fling I had in grad school. Wayne really hit the spot." He turned the page again. The next page featured two men together. They were a bit older than the other men in the magazine. One was dressed in little swim trunks and the other, oddly enough, in tighty whities, but he didn't look stupid in his like I looked in mine. They were kissing each other. They pulled off each other's underthings to reveal nice, but not huge, erections. They each grabbed each other's cock. I was getting excited and I could see Fred was too. He turned the page. One man was now kneeling in front of the other with his lips around the tip of the other's penis. I had literally never seen anything like it before. "Oh wow," I said. Fred just went "mmm-hmm" as I drank it in. As the pictures went on the one man took all of the other's cock in his mouth. I was wondering where it all went. "How is he not choking?" I asked. "Lots of practice," said Fred. "We all gag on them once in a while." The other man -- the one who was being sucked -- looked like he was absolutely in heaven. The one who was sucking appeared to be stroking his own cock, though of course that was hard to tell from a still picture. Overall, though, this was one of the hottest things I'd ever experienced. I absentmindedly grabbed my cock through my underwear and sort of kneaded it a bit, not really masturbating but just, I don't know, keeping the fire going? I'm sure Fred noticed me doing it, though. He turned the page. The man who had been sucking had a flood of cum on his face and tongue. This was HOT. I made a little muffled moan when I saw it. "You liked that?" Fred asked. "Way hot," I said. "Which is better, sucking or getting sucked?" He laughed. "It's just like topping or bottoming. They're both pretty damned nice, at least to me!" "Is cum tasty?" "You've never tasted yours?" "Well, no," I said sheepishly. "Oh, I didn't mean to make you feel bad, Bradley! That's just something even a lot of straight boys do. Anyway, cum is an acquired taste. It can be really nice but it can also be salty and bitter, it just depends on the man." "Do *you* like it, Fred?" "Mmm, I love it! I love taking a man into my mouth and getting him off, I feel so powerful. He probably thinks he owns me, but I own him. His pleasure is my hands." (At this point I didn't know how much of sex was about power. Now I know but I don't agree, I just want to get off.) "Don't you mean it's in your mouth?" I joked. He laughed heartily. "I suppose so!" he said. "You're so quick-witted, Bradley." I was hoping when he turned the page again the guys would be fucking. I wanted to see that. I wanted to see that *so* badly. But all there was, was the back cover of the magazine, which had the pictures from inside the magazine, except all the good parts were covered up by words. Bummer. Fred picked up another magazine. This one was called "Bear Cave." The guys on the cover weren't quite as young and skinny as the ones from the last magazine. This magazine didn't waste any time. The very first picture was a burly man getting sucked off by an even burlier man. They were both flabby to fat -- like me -- and their cocks were just as thick as their bodies. I must have sighed or something, I don't remember. Fred asked me, "Do you like these men?" "Uh-HUH," I answered. I could feel my chest tightening. "They're my favorite kind of men too," Fred said. We paged through the magazine. Each page was another gorgeous, hairy, burly-to-outright-fat man. Some had big cocks, some had average ones, but they were all hot as fuck in their own ways. They gave each other handjobs. They sucked each other. They even sixty-nined, which was something I'd never considered. There was no fucking, but I was still totally turned on. I glanced down at Fred's crotch. He was obviously turned on too, fully erect with his cock straining at his shorts, and a little wet spot where the tip of his cock was. "Mmm," I sighed, more at him than at the men in the pictures. I pawed a bit at my cock again. I was wondering if anything was going to happen. Then I decided I didn't have to wait. I stuck one hand down the front of my underwear, then cupped Fred's cock with my other. "Ohh, Bradley," he said, closing his eyes. I gripped my cock while I kneaded his. His breathing slowed down and got deep. "That feels so good," he said. "Mmm-hmm," I answered. "I like your cock, Fred." He raised his hips, hooked his fingers in his waistband, and slid his briefs off. He was fully hard and his cock just looked beautiful, perfectly proportioned. I grabbed it and marveled at how much harder it was than the rubber cock. Which only made sense, I guess, but still. I started to stroke it, feeling the skin sliding against the hardness beneath. "Oh," he said, "oh yesss, Bradley." "I do a good handjob?" "Mmm-hmm! And how!" I kept stroking, watching his chest rise and fall. His eyes were closed. I took my other hand out of my briefs and ruffled his chest hair a little. He made little gasps, leaving his mouth wide open. I could feel what I now know is precum on his glans. I was curious about tasting it but I didn't want to just yet. He had warned me about the taste of cum. I didn't want to lose my willingness to continue. But I also didn't want him to come yet. "Bradley ..." he whispered, "take off your underwear, please. I want to see you naked." He didn't have to convince me. Off they came. "Ohh," he said, looking me over. "You're a beautiful boy." "You're a beautiful man," I said. "Sit down on my couch," he said, so I did. "Keep your legs apart," he said, as he kneeled between them. He fondled my balls for a moment, which felt surprisingly nice. He rolled them around with his fingers, cupped them in his palm, then let them fall naturally while he lightly gripped my cock. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. Then my cheek. Then my mouth. Then my mouth again. Then my neck. Then the middle of my chest. Then my left nipple, which felt awesome. Then the base of my sternum. Then the middle of my belly and I'm sorry to say it was only at that point that I figured out what he was intending to do. He took my cock into his mouth. Being surrounded by something warm and soft and wet and slippery was such a different, better experience than just stroking or being stroked. He bobbed his head up and down, sucking moderately and flicking his tongue along the underside. The pleasure was so intense I almost stopped thinking. He kept making little throaty noises, like he was having the time of his life with my cock in his mouth. I was certainly enjoying myself too. Wave after wave of the best physical feelings I'd ever experienced kept washing over me and I just surrendered to them. I was lost in his mouth as he intensified his actions, making a plume of lava rise inside me. And build. And then ... I must have shouted pretty loud as I came in his mouth, I don't remember. He held me there for a while, prolonging my orgasm with his tongue. My cock kept twitching in his mouth while he drained it dry. "Whoa," I said as he straightened back up. "That was intense!" He smiled warmly. "I'm glad you liked it," he said. "Was my cum good-tasting?" Why the hell did I ask that, I wondered. He looked me in the eyes. "Not bad. Maybe eat more fruit and fewer chips, though." Then he winked. There he was standing in front of me. My heart was pulsating in my chest. "You said yesterday we were going to suck each other," I said nervously, realizing for the first time that a hard cock can look very intimidating. "You don't have to, Bradley. It's okay." "But you're hard," I said. I reached out and gripped him. But I wasn't at all sure I wanted to suck him, or could if I wanted to. "Don't you want to come too?" "Oh, I do," he said. I stroked his cock underhand. I cupped his balls. He was starting to breathe hard again. I wanted him to come. And I just had to know what it was like to suck a man. So I tentatively wrapped my lips around him, unwilling to take him in too far lest I gagged or threw up. I remembered how good his tongue had felt so I sort of circled his glans with it. Then I pulled back. "Was that okay?" I asked. "More," he said. So I gave him more of the same. His hard cock in my mouth felt right. The taste was no different than sucking on your thumb, though obviously his cock was a lot bigger. I started to bob my head back and forth, going a little deeper every time. I forgot that I was also supposed to suck so I started doing that too. And I kept my tongue fluttering, though I certainly wasn't consistent about it. But Fred didn't seem to mind. He put his hands on the back of my head. Later on I'd experience this with other men as the point where they tried to dominate me, something I do not care for. But Fred wasn't doing that, wasn't trying to force himself deeper than I was comfortable with. I kept sucking and bobbing and fluttering, hoping I was doing a good job. All I was really doing was what he had done to me, since I didn't know what else to do. It felt like he was getting even harder in my mouth, which is something I didn't even think was possible. I liked it. I liked it a lot. I was starting to understand what he meant about how great it felt. I didn't just have his cock in my mouth, I had his pleasure in my hands, and that was making me quite content indeed. He started to buck his hips just like he had the day before, rubbing his cock against the roof of my mouth. "I'm going to come, Bradley! Are you sure you want it in youAAAGH!" He came, profusely, in my mouth. It was so much it ran down my throat without me even trying to swallow it. The taste was nondescript at first, a little salty, a little ... meaty? Maybe? The aftertaste, I'm sorry to say, was bitter and almost horrid. I didn't like it very much. But I didn't want him to know, because even though I didn't like the taste of his cum, I loved that he came in my mouth like I came in his. "Ohhh," he said, turning and falling back onto the couch. "That was soooo good, Bradley. Did you like it?" I had mixed emotions but I did like that he liked it. "Mmm-hmm," I said. I totally preferred getting sucked to sucking, though, and I still do. But I still do it for men I like -- and trust. Because I really don't like the taste of cum. We both sat there on the couch, silent, for a minute or two, with each other's cum in our stomachs. I leaned over against him and he wrapped an arm around me. It felt like I had turned another corner.