Dude, Are You Serious?


© 2015

by

Jonathan Longhorn


Copyright © 2015 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.

Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slip it in.

Note: There are some references in this story and others, to things mentioned in another of my stories, Target Nemesis: The Tentacle Lord’s Revenge, which you can find here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/target-nemesis-the-tentacle-lords-revenge.html. The story itself is about the movie that had been, or was being watched by characters in several of my stories - in which an alien warlord bent on revenge, ‘has his way’ with an Earth Forces Brigade hero. While I hope that you would enjoy reading that story, it may be a bit brutal for some readers and you do not need to read that story first in order to understand or to enjoy this story.

All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.



Chapter 5


Kerplunk.

This time, not a rock breaking the surface of the river below the old Trestle Ridge Bridge. No, this time—it was more like Dillon’s jaw smacking against one of the railroad ties there on that abandoned bridge. It seemed so real that he had to reach up and rub his jaw; sure that he felt it crack a moment earlier upon that unplanned impact.

Did Charley just tell him to…?

Did he need to ask his mother to make an appointment for him to have a hearing test?

No. At least, he didn’t ‘think’ so.

He was sure he heard what he thought he heard. He ‘was’ sure—wasn’t he?

Okay—maybe a hearing test wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe they could fit him for contacts for his ears. What would that look like, anyway? Little megaphones sticking out of his…. Sheah, right. No, then he’d really look like a dork.

Pull it out.

Did he want Charley’s dick so badly that he even imagined Charley might want his?

Charley wanted to see his dick? Maybe more than just ‘see’ it?

Should he ask for clarification?

Should he wait to see if Charley said anything more about … whatever that was?

Should he jump on it before Charley had time to reconsider and to retract what he thought he heard? Take back the offer? ‘Was’ that an offer? Or, more rationally, was it just his own wishful thinking about why they were out here in the middle of the night in the first place? How hot would that be, anyway—his cock … sliding between Charley Stockton’s lips? The #1 god of the school? With his mouth stuffed full of throbbing, drooling, aching to unload cock? ‘His’ cock? Holy shit. Even just imagining it could be true made his dick throb even more painfully and threaten to rip open his jeans.

Fuck rationality. Right?

Yeah.

Door #3. Take Door #3. Do I have the balls to go for Door #3?

Fuck.

He wished to Hell and back that he had the balls to go for Door #3. The thought of Charley Stockton’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth was hotter than the fires of Hell, but—holy fuck! The thought of Charley’s sexy as hell lips wrapped around the shaft and his mouth stuffed to the hilt with Dillon’s huge cock?

Oh.

Fuck.

Yeah … dawg!

Even as Dillon was seesawing on this and trying to figure out if he had really heard what he thought he heard when he heard it—um, yeah, that was right—right?—he thought that was right anyway—his hands and his cock had already decided that it was what it was.

Was Charley even looking at him? Maybe this was some sort of cruel joke? His cock in Charley’s hot, wet mouth, being licked and slurped and tasted by Charley for the first time? The first of many times? Oh fuck.

As his cock grew even harder, even thicker, even longer in his jeans … achingly harder, thicker, and longer … his fingers were already curling under the hem of his shirt and were pulling it up and over his head. The hot, humid air blasted across the smoothness of his chest and his abs. His nipples twitched to life and stiffened in record setting time.

With that swift motion, shirt gone, out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Charley had turned his head and was looking right at him. Or, was he looking at where his hand was hovering near the button and zipper of his jeans. Did he dare look? Could he handle whatever expression Charley’s face held?

“What the fuck am I doing?”

The question was so soft that he barely heard it himself.

Apparently, he was definitely Hell-bent on Door #3. He stood. He popped the button on his jeans. The zipper went down so fast that he was surprised that it didn’t leave a smoke trail. One of his tennis shoes very nearly went over the edge for a plummet into the water 50’ below. Saved only by a Velcro strap hanging up on a thick splinter.

One.

Deep breath.

Two.

Exhale.

Three.

Deep breath.

What in Hell am I doing?

Whoosh.

Jeans and jock sailed down his muscular thighs. The errant shoe was quickly pulled back to safety—rescued from a certain watery death. Its partner, quickly toed off. Jeans and jock now pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them—‘almost’ gracefully; and foot-kicked them to the side where they landed beside his shirt and tennis shoes.

The thwack of Dillon’s rock hard cock springing from the waistband of his jock and jeans and smacking against the rigid rack of his abs sounded more like a rifle shot. It drew a one-eyed perusal. And, a throat bob. Charley’s other eye raced to catch up with its brother. His breathing had sped up at some point.

Bring in the kids! Lock the doors! The ginormo’conda is on the loose!

Charley sucked in air as he took in the sheer enormity of it. The real, true, total, boneage of it. Dillon Jamison was fucking massive.

Oh. Fucking. Hell. I ‘did’ say that out loud?

Before either of them took another second to consider what the hell was happening, or might happen—Dillon swung around on the heel of his left foot and planted himself firmly. He gazed down at his shirtless friend, below him.

Charley’s eyes went wide as he locked onto the large drop of clear cock honey that bubbled out of the wide slit and threatened to cascade down over the broad, crimson head, even as another formed to take its place. He seemed—transfixed. In awe of his first close up view of Dillon’s huge hard cock.

And then, with surprising swiftness—Dillon dropped to his knees. He grabbed his throbbing, drooling cock in one hand and finger snagged a handful of Charley’s hair with the other. As he pulled Charley’s head up off the Trestle Ridge Bridge, he guided his dick forward and pressed it firmly against his friend’s lips.

“Dill … I … glunkphuk,” was all Charley got out before Dillon’s thick cock slipped inside his mouth. “Moomph….”

“Suck it, Charley,” Dillon said with a sudden surge of crazed power and confidence. Never in a trillion billion years would he ever have dreamed this. His cock in Charley Stockton’s mouth! ‘Not’ the other way around as he had originally hoped this evening would go. Him getting to taste and suck Charley’s beautiful cock. A dream he’d had for … well, a really … really … long … time. He closed his eyes for a moment and wondered if this was a dream.

It could all be a dream, but it sure felt real. The feeling of his cock, throbbing and leaking in a hot, wet mouth for the very first time was indescribable. If this was a dream he sure hoped it would never end. He hoped he could capture and remember that incredible feeling if it ‘was’ just a dream.

Was this a dream?

Would Charley still be there when he opened his eyes? He didn’t want the dream to end but he also wanted to see if this was, in fact—real. He wanted to see the mouth of the #1 god of the school stuffed with ‘his’ cock.

He opened his eyes. Slowly. So slowly that the Earth might have made a full rotation. Okay, no. Not that slowly. Geez, even now his imagination was full tilt into hyper insanity.

It was real!

Oh fuck!

It … was … real!

That sight gave him another surge of confidence. A surge of alphatude he never expected to experience. Not in this lifetime anyway. He looked down at Charley who was looking up at him, eyes wide.

Somehow, he was in control of a school god, a star athlete, ‘Mr. Popularity’, one of the best looking guys in the whole school. Charley’s mouth was stuffed with ‘Dillon’s’ cock. His whole body was vibrating with power and it was a feeling he could definitely get very used to, very quickly.

Him, Dillon Jameson, totally dominating Charley John Stockton, IV, and it was … exhilarating. His eyes locked with Charley’s as he thrust his cock a little further into that wonderful mouth.

“Suck my cock, Charley.”

“Moomph….”

Dillon cooed as he slid his fingers through Charley’s hair. “That’s it buddy. Lick the underside with your tongue.”

“Moomph….”

“Suck it Charley. Suck it for me, bro.”

“Moomph….”

“Mmm, yeah … that’s it. Yeah—just like that.”

Charley’s nostrils flared as he suddenly became aware of the scent. Thick. Heady. Masculine. Alpha. The flaring continued as he drew it in. That aroma. That essence. Dillon. His tongue lapped up and over … under and back. It circled and swirled around the bulbous head of Dillon’s cock and then worked its way down the thick, throbbing shaft. The move always worked miracles in driving Chelsea insane and from the gurgled moan coming from Dillon’s throat, it must be good here, too.

“Oh, yeah…. Fuck, that’s good. You’re doing great, bro. Fuck—Charley Stockton … sucking cock. Fuck, yeah….”

“Moomph….”

“You know? Dude, seriously—I think you were born to do this. Keep sucking, we’re just getting started.”

“Moomph.”

Wait?

What did that mean?

Just getting started?

Charley would have asked for clarification, but, well, he couldn’t really talk right now what with an Elephant’condanormous cock fucking his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Dillon said softly as he drove deeper into Charley’s mouth—knocking on the door to his throat. “Just like that. We’ve got all night.”

Charley gazed up into his friend’s eyes. He felt Dillon’s thick cock drive deeper. Pull back. Drive deeper. Pull back…. And, he felt his mouth respond. Taking it. It was almost as though it was hungry for it. Of course, there was no way that could be since he was straight. Right? He sucked. His tongue swirled. His mouth opened more. His jaw spread wider. His tongue lapped. He sucked.

He inhaled more deeply.

And, he sucked.

“Moomph. Moomph. Moomph….”





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