Date: Wed, 13 Jan 2021 15:24:44 -0700
From: artefice@softhome.net
Subject: Accepting the Petey within - 11

Disclaimers

This story is a work of fiction.  It contains descriptions of sexual
contact between males. If you are not of legal age to read such material,
or if you find this subject offensive, please leave and do not read on.
Safer sex techniques (i.e., use of condoms, etc.) have not been included
for the sake of storytelling technique.  Real life, however, is not
storytelling; and condoms should be used without fail during anal
intercourse and other high-risk activities (even you boys on PrEP and you
undetectable guys).

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Accepting the Petey within, part eleven - fraternity life, brother Paul, 3 of 3

Finally, Paul returns.  There is no regularity to his visits and, quite
frankly, I have never really looked forward to them.  Until now.

In through the bathroom, into my room, PJ bottoms only, blah, blah, blah.
This time I throw him two pillows for under his head, so I can keep a
better eye on his face.  I glance at my alarm clock.

I kneel and gently place my hands on the top of his thighs.  He doesn't
seem to take notice.

I lean in and swirl my tongue around the head of his dick.  A moan,
already.

I softly rub back and forth on his thighs.  He's not got much leg hair, so
I doubt my rubbing will irritate it.  I applied moisturizer to my hands,
just as a precaution.  Tongue still swirling, the moaning lessens.

I lick the length of his flaccid member, still softly rubbing his thighs.
With each rub forward, I go just a tad farther.  I switch to licking his
balls, the rubbing continues.  His dick starts to stiffen, but he would
normally be rock-hard by now, so I take this as a good sign.  I look up and
his eyes are closed.

I take his cock into my mouth.  No suction, just contact.  His breathing
deepens a little.  My hands are at his waist and I fear I am moving too
slowly.  His lips are pursed when he exhales, like he's trying to slow
things down as well.

Back to his balls.  I suck both into my mouth and very gently tug.  He
moans.  My hands advance to their destination.  I make contact, rubbing the
pad of my thumbs ever-so-gently over his nipples.

I sudden inhalation causes a moment of concern, but a slow pursed-lip
exhalation lets me know we are both in this together.

The fun begins.

Back to his dick, which I am getting to appreciate for the first time.
Nothing special length- or width-wise, but I can perform magic on a pencil
or a beer can.  I just let the length of his hardening dick rest on my
tongue.  I now have his nipples between my thumb and index fingers and am
rotating his nipples ever-so-slightly.  I close my lips around him.

For the first time ever, I am sucking Paul's dick.  Not really sucking,
because there is no suction, but moving my lips up and down his shaft.  His
boner now really is a rock.  Maybe that's why it is so sensitive to him.

I change the direction of my thumb, so I am now milking his nipples.  I am
touching him so softly.  I doubt I would even feel this, if I were doing it
to myself.  But, it seems to be doing the trick.  Dispersing the
stimulation is allowing him to tolerate more.  Though I sense "tolerate"
may soon translate to "enjoy".

Unfortunately, I still had the pile driver technique in my head and I
momentarily held just the head of his cock in my mouth and started gently
sucking.  Just the head of his cock and the tip of his boner.  And milking
his nipples.  He shoots his load.

I take my fingers off his nipples and his cock out of my mouth and wait.

His eyes are still closed and his breathing is slowing.  Finally, he raises
his head off the pillows and looks down at me.  He looks a little confused,
but definitely pleased.  He is in no hurry to move, neither am I as I
evaluate the situation.

He would normally spend only several minutes in my room; my alarm clock
says we are approaching 10.

He sits up, then slowly retrieves his PJ bottom, stands to slip it on, then
sits again.  I move back a foot or two, but I am still kneeling in front of
him.

He appreciates something is different, but I'm not certain he knows what
happened or how I did it.

I am expecting a "Wow!  Thanks!", but nothing.  It's like he's trying to
figure it out.

I don't really know Paul, but I like him, so I help him.  "That was fun."

"Yes.  That WAS fun."

Then, confirmation of my success.  "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Thoughts of where this could go are swirling recklessly through my mind.
What else can I say, but, "Absolutely".

After Paul leaves, I record the event in my journal.  I decide to begin a
new section, dedicated to my exploits with Paul.  Sure, I'll be keeping the
stuff that has already happened and I'll be adding lots of things I hope
will happen.  No.  I know will happen.