Date: Fri, 29 May 2009 03:05:08 +0000
From: Jon XXXX <joxn@hotmail.com>
Subject: Confessions of a Cocksucker

My name is Clint and I'll admit it. I'm a cocksucker. And a damn good one,
too!

I guess I finally realized it about half my life ago, when I was 15 years
old. Yep, that puts me at 30 years old now. Over the years, I have found I
really love a hard cock that I can coax to fire a hot load into my mouth.
Sometimes I like to feel the hot jizm pouring down the back of my throat
directly into my stomach; sometimes I like to hold the quivering head in my
mouth, hearing vocal moans of pleasure and swallow the volleys of hot cum
that emit from it; and sometimes I just like to have that spurting gristle
shoot all over my face. And to know that I have managed a primordial
reaction to it's spurting conclusion, to guiding a body's singular response
to my direction, to reducing a mind to it's basic desires, to replacing any
controls with basic sexual needs.that gives me great psychological
satisfaction, even though I know the recipient of a great blow job often
looks down on the perpetrator. Who is in control? With what you admit, no
one can control you.

I guess it first started when I was a freshman in high school. Nope...I
know that's when it happened. I broke my arm the day before football
practice started which put me out for the season. I wasn't much good
anyway, so the team didn't lose much by me not being available. However,
because it was a small school, the coach let me be the manager of the
freshman team. I don't know what the title is today, but back then, being
"team manager" was basically being the clean-up guy for the team, getting
the gear ready for trips, washing the practice and game garments and just
doing what was needed by the coach. I actually appreciated the coach
letting me do this as it kept me in touch with my buddies.

As the season progressed and my cast came off, I found that I could shower
in the gym after I did my duties. That way, I got cleaned up and didn't
have to fight my dumb older sister each morning for the one bathroom at
home. My dad was up early and out of the house by 5:30 a.m Mom didn't work
but usually went through the bathroom right after dad. I don't know how
they kept us all functioning on Dad's salary but somehow we didn't notice
things might be tight. I think I appreciate them more today for their hard
work and perseverance.

Anyway, back to the beginning. I always saw Jim Bob in the gym. He was the
second manager for the varsity team, if our small school had such a thing.
He was a decent guy that got along with most everyone but basically had no
physically capabilities. Everyone recognized that and consequently not one
hassled him.  Maybe they were secretly glad he didn't try out for a team.
Jim Bob, who's real name was James Robert, was called Jimmy Bob until he
decided one day that was too juvenile. Everyone made the change and called
him Jim Bob except his grandmother and a couple of older people in church
who could never make the change. Of course, if he was ever addressed as
"James Robert," then he and anyone near knew he was probably in big
trouble.

One evening after practice when everyone was gone and my duties were done,
I was taking a hot shower. "Is that you, Pug?" I heard a voice
reverberating in the shower. Yep, I was called Pug then, why I'll never
know. I would have been glad to have had "Jimmy Bob" as a name! Even though
I use my real name now, I still go back home and guess what I'm still
called? Pug!

"Yeah. Who did you think it was, Jim Bob?" I replied sort of sarcastically.

"I don't know.  Maybe a communist," he laughed, underscoring the recent
history lessons on the spread of the dreaded dictatorial system that was
sure to come our way if we didn't watch out. "I think I'll take a shower,
too. Get some of this crap off of me," he said.

I heard the shower start as I began to get the soap out of my eyes. There
was Jim Bob showering two shower heads away from me in the large team
shower facility. I didn't' pay much attention to him. Jim Bob wasn't fat
nor was he muscular. He just was Jim Bob!

At 15 years old, most guys' cocks are almost in a perpetual state of hard
or near hard. Of course, Jim Bob, at 17, was always in that state. He,
probably like me and many of the other guys I figured out, stole a jock
strap from the team supplies to keep their hard cocks from showing in their
loose dress pants on Sundays at church.  During the school days, tight
jeans would hold your cock against your belly or you could pull your shirt
tail out to cover it. I used to wonder what it would be like not to have a
hard-on.

Well, that's the way we were in the shower. Both of us showering with
growing cocks and trying not to look at each other. Well, I think Jim Bob
was looking. I was too embarrassed and just wanted to rinse the soap off
and get out of there before he noticed I had a hard-on.

"Hey, Pug. Looks like you're getting a boner," he laughed.

I was pissed that he noticed and had commented on my cock, so I slung back,
"Yeah, looks like you've got one, too."

"Yeah. Guess that happens to us guys, huh?" he giggled. And with that, he
began to stroke his cock to its full size. I wasn't into size then but I
was about five and a half inches on hard and he was larger than me. I just
watched, almost hypnotized, holding onto my own hard cock.

Jim Bob moved closer to me while stroking his cock. "You ever had a
blowjob?" he asked.

"What? That's nasty," I stammered out.

"Well, you ever try it?" Jim Bob persisted.

"Uh, no. I never have," I admitted.

"Well, don't knock something you haven't tried. You might just like
it. Wanna try it? We'll keep it a secret," he said softly, now very close
to me.

And before I could respond, Jim Bob had dropped down to his knees and took
my cock in his soapy hands. Before I could react, he sucked the whole thing
into his hot mouth.  My knees nearly buckled and my immediate reaction -
other than moaning - was to spread my legs a little wider. Jim Bob took
that as an OK and went to work.

"Work" lasted perhaps less than a minute before I felt myself yelping as I
uncontrollably fired my young sperm down Jim Bob's throat. He sucked a bit
more and slid his finger from right before my ass all the way down the
firing tube of my cock, milking out the last drops.

"So, did you like that?" Jim Bob said as he stood up, the two showers still
shooting spray over our steaming bodies.

"Damn, Jim Bob. I've never felt anything like that," I said
breathlessly. "It really was great.  Certainly is better than beating off."

"Yeah. Now, you want to try it on me?" he said. He held out his hard cock
for me to take.

"I don't' know how to do that," I admitted. "I've never done that before."

"Don't worry.  I'll tell you what to do.  Just listen to me," he said.

I took a deep breath and dropped down to my knees. Jim Bob immediately
stepped forward with his hard cock right in my face. I instinctively opened
my mouth and he slid the head in and held it there. Then slowly he began to
move it back and forth, giving me instructions on what to do: how to cover
my teeth, how to move my head, how to swirl my tongue. It was almost as
fast for him as it was for me and he shot a huge load into my mouth. I
gagged a bit as most of it ran down the sides of my mouth. But enough was
swallowed to give me my first taste of cum. I remember distinctly thinking
how interesting the taste of hot cum was.

During that school year and the next, Jim Bob and I became "suck buddies,"
if there is such a term. We didn't do anything else other than suck each
other off. He taught me how to really suck a cock and how to inflict pure
pleasure on that sensitive organ. We also discussed what we had just done
and the feelings we had felt, what made us feel good, what wasn't really
great. We both learned a lot about sucking cock and how it felt, though I
think Jim Bob came to the game far more experienced than I (he never did
tell me how he learned how to suck cock).

After Jim Bob graduated and left for the Army, I didn't fool around with
anyone else, not because I didn't want to but because the school gossip
would have wiped me out. Me finding Jim Bob was just a stroke of luck.

I went to the state university and that's when I came into my own as a
cocksucker. I found one could really be anonymous there and that there were
plenty of hard cocks that wanted to be drained. Some of the best ones were
on the football teams; some of the worst ones in the fraternities, which,
by the way, I stopped playing with when I pledged a fraternity myself. I
couldn't run the risk of embarrassing my new brothers! One fraternity
brother and I exchanged blowjobs for a while until he got too nervous. He
wasn't very good, I must admit.

I learned where the pick-up places were in town and drained many a cock on
weekends. I learned how to hang out in the lobby of a major hotel when
there was a conference in the city and get invited up to a room...but only
for a blowjob.

A doorman at one of the hotels noticed me once and struck up a
conversation. Things led to me draining him of all his hot juices in one of
the storage rooms. He took my phone number and would call me when he had
any requests for a hot mouth. Of course, he always got amply rewarded for
his thoughtfulness.

I stayed for my master's degree and got very good grades, because I studied
and worked very hard for them. Maybe it was helpful that I always ended up
the progress meetings with my professor by giving him a blowjob. Another
graduate student commented to me that I must be having a lot of problems
because I had to see my professor two and sometimes three times a week. No
problems for me!

I've found that the married guys are less inhibited and more appreciative
to get their cocks sucked than are single guys who seem to have a "better
than you" attitude and always be looking for something better. But it
didn't matter...after any of them fired their loads, they were history to
me. I could just smile and walk away as they tried to piece together the
oral tsunami that had hit them.

I learned to fabricate stories depending on the situation. Sometimes, I was
a complete innocent, letting the idiot think he had led me into my first
cock-sucking venture. Then commenting on how natural I was. I would look
down with feigned shame and secretly smile. Other times, I would tell the
guy what a great cock he had, knowing full well it was below what I would
even consider average. Sometimes, I was aggressive in sucking, draining the
guy's cock several times before releasing him. Other times, I was very
passive, letting my throat be raped by the pounding meat and the greedy
body in front of me. It was all good.  And it was all controlled by me.

Finally, the Internet came into its own, which, for me, was like opening
the door to the candy story. I probably have sucked more cocks from the
Internet than I had in my prior years...and that was a lot!  I got to where
I would have a Saturday evening soir‚e in my condo with invited
"guests." I could usually suck most of them off but some just wanted to
fuck.  That was allowed but not me. I was only a cocksucker.  I accepted
and enjoyed that. Others did the same. Those who came in with an attitude,
quickly got shut out of the pleasures they often wanted to come back to. I
still have a couple of regular friends who like to suck cock or get
fucked. We sometimes go the whole weekend in a wild "suck and fuck fest,"
getting on the Internet for a fresh supply of recruits.

Damn, those were good and wild times...and actually still are, but with a
little change (and change is always good, right?).  I'm much more cautious
of who I take on and, I must admit, not as often. I now travel a lot around
the world a job in the international business community that can produce
some surprising cultural exchanges...but always with the same results.

I'll end this mind-dump with a little story that still makes me laugh a
bit.and give me a little pride in my abilities and reaffirms what a
warm-hearted, considerate person I am...if not modest!  <g>

I was training for a marathon - I sort of turned into a pseudo-jock in
graduate school - and was running early in the mornings before work. I had
a fairly safe, five-mile route - safe meaning no serious traffic - where I
would start out in the dark but get back to my car as the sun was coming
up. Toward the end of my run, I began to notice a nice looking Hispanic guy
who was always walking toward me on the path near the woods. He had work
clothes on, laced boots, and carried a hard hat and lunch kit. During that
first week, I would smile in the dim light as we passed. One day, I planned
to walk a bit about where I thought I would see him. And sure enough, he
rounded the curve and we walked toward each other. "How're you doing," I
said, as we passed and then I jogged off again. After that, we got to where
we would greet each other as we passed.

The end of the third week, he rounded the curve and found me sitting on a
tree stump with my head in my hands. "Hey, buddy.  What's the matter?" he
said in his moderately accented English.

"Oh, nothing. I forgot to eat this morning and suddenly got a little
weak. I really need some protein," I said.

"Is there anything I can do? Can I get you anything?" he said with a
concerned look on his face.

"Well, there is a way you could really help me," I said in all
innocence. "But I'm afraid it might embarrass you.  It's OK.  I'll be fine
in a little bit."

"No, man.  Tell me what I can do to help you. You won't embarrass me," he
said.

"One of the best ways to get protein quickly is from sperm. If I could give
you a blowjob, that would help me. And it would make you feel good, too," I
said sort of weakly, almost rolling my eyes at my brazen approach.

"Huh?  You want to suck my cock?" he said in amazement.

"Hey, I'm sorry.  I don't want to embarrass you. I'll just rest here for a
while," I said.

"Well, are you sure this would really make you better?" he said curiously.

"Yep.  That's one of the best sources of quick protein," I said, sitting
up.

"OK. If it's fine with you, it's fine with me," he said, seriously.

With that, I reached over to his crotch and slid his zipper down. He
stepped forward and I reached in to get his already hardening cock.
Fortunately, he was wearing boxer briefs which made the retrieval fairly
simple. And, damn...did I get a good one. This dude had about six inches of
thick, uncut cock and it wasn't even hard yet. I opened his pants and
immediately sucked that growing member into my throat, feeling it harden
quickly.  I gagged a bit as I realized that it was pushing backwards out of
my mouth as it got bigger. He had a huge cock and I meant to take it all
down.

Well, it took me a few tries, but as any good cocksucker who's worth his
cum knows, persistence has its rewards. I rolled my tongue over the big
head and licked up and down the thick shaft. I sucked on his balls but
quickly returned to that cock that I so relished. He was moaning softly and
slowly fucking in and out of my mouth. I finally forced that thick rod all
the way down my throat as I heard him groan and felt him tense up. I knew
what was coming, and did it ever!  I kept swallowing as fast as I could
while bobbing my head on his pulsating cock. He must have shot a
gallon...or at least it seemed that way. And I drank every drop he had,
milking the last vestiges from that throbbing cock.

"Wow! That was one load of protein," I rasped out after I finally released
his softened cock.

He just stood there gasping with his cock hanging out in front of me. "I
hope that really helps you," he said. "It helped me, too."  And with a
dazed look, he zipped his pants up and stepped back.

"I think it did help me.  I feel better already," I said.  "I'm glad this
made you feel good, too.  Maybe we can do this again if you'd like."

"Yeah.  Maybe we can do it again," he smiled. And with that, he went his
way and I jogged off down the path, now fully satisfied but thinking of
future runs.

We saw each other several times a week and each time I would drain his
cock. He said he was married but I amazed that he could have had any kind
of sexual relations and still maintain that level of intensity.  If sperm
actually is a protein infusion, then I should have looked like Arnold
Swartznegger in his prime.

One day after I drained his huge cock, Manuel, as I found out his name,
said he probably wouldn't be seeing me after the end of the week. He and a
bunch of other guys had been laid off and he didn't have any prospects for
another job. I couldn't believe I might be losing that magnificent,
cum-loaded cock. So, to make a very long story short...I got him a job at
the large corporation where I worked in Human Resources. I got him placed
on the facilities management team that ended up being a far better job than
he had in construction. And I continued to have access to a very willing
and grateful cock.  We still see each other but not as much as before as
these things do begin to lose their intensity no matter how good and I do
travel a lot now.

So, my message to everyone is that being nice to a cocksucker sometimes can
have unexpected benefits. And who knows, you may supply the protein that
someone needs!



Note to readers: you might enjoy other of my stories. Encounters: Rolf
Riding (Feb 11); Moonlight Madness (Mar 12); Blown Away in Paris (Mar 24);
Using the Club (Apr 8); Mowing Results (Apr 14).  College: Delivering Pizza
(Feb 8). Camping as well as Adult/Youth: Campground Fun (May 8).
Bestiality: The Stag (Mar 6).  Enjoy life.  Joxn@hotmail.com