Dude, Are You Serious?
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.
What in the name of bloody holy Hell had he gone and done?
‘He’ being the emphasis, here. There was no one else that Charley could blame. This was all on him. He was the one that walked out on Chels … unclitsatisgasm’d. He was the one that texted Dillon to meet him here on the old bridge. He was the one that….
He really didn’t have anyone else to blame here.
This really was totally on him.
So, here he was up on the Old Bridge at Trestle Ridge in the middle of post-thundergusher nightosity.
Star athlete. Already a highly recruited multi-sport star athlete—thank you very much.
Check that. ‘Straight’ stud extraordinaire.
Yeah. ‘That’ Charley Stockton. He was all that … according to everyone else, anyway. He felt he could argue that on a number of points but he doubted he’d win.
If only ‘they’ knew….
Of course, none of that could explain why he was here … in this position … at this moment.
On his back and propped up on his elbows. His friend, Dillon Jamison—holding his head up by a handful of his hair. And, not to be left out—not by a long shot—a very large, very thick, helmet-headed, dripping chunk of cock sinking into his mouth.
Okay. Technically? I ‘told’ Dillon to pull it out … ergo … this ‘is’ my fault, I guess?
Charley looked up that granite-hewn torso, abs rippling and pumping … chest rising and falling as it glistened under a thin layer of sweat … nipples as hard as diamond studs. Farther up—Dillon’s handsome face contorting in a hodgepodge of rapid fire emotion ranging from … what? Lust? Doubt? Fear? A surge in Alpha bull confidence that he may never have known even existed?
Present position and role reversal notwithstanding, it looked good on Dillon. He had to admit that, yeah—even as Dillon’s cock continued its goal of taking ownership over his mouth and his throat. Maybe this was one of those rare occasions where the Alpha in the pack needed to step back and exert his hold over the others and cement his place in leadership by beta’ng to a follower in need of a self-confidence boost?
Yeah—he could do that.
For … Dillon.
As awkward and mind-blowing and freak city as that thought was, he could do this.
As long as nobody found out about the part where he had the long, hard, thick, throbbing, drooling dick in his mouth and banging on the door to his throat. Yeah. Totally. For … sure. Nobody better find out about this. Nobody would see them up here on the abandoned old bridge. Fuck—he ‘hoped’ nobody would see this.
Ryan and Bennett sure as hell better not find out about this. That would be all he needed. Yeah, nobody but Dillon could ‘ever’ know about this. Nobody. Especially Ryan and Bennett.
He felt himself being pulled into Dillon’s eyes. Drawn in. Enveloped. Spell bound. What was Dillon saying? ‘Suck it, Charley. Suck it for me.’ Yeah. Yeah that’s what he was saying.
Dillon pulled back. The head of his cock slipped from Charley’s lips. He took a firm grip of the shaft and began slapping Charley’s face.
What a turn of events. Dillon was astonished. ‘He’ was the one that was supposed to be going down on Charley. ‘He’ was the one that was supposed to have a cock in his mouth right now. Charley Stockton’s cock. And, yet—here he was … straddling Charley’s ribs and sliding his cock into his mouth. Again. Oh. Fuck. Yeah! His cock was spreading those lips wide and sinking into Charley’s mouth!
Charley was taking it!
Charley was sucking his cock!
Charley ‘friggin’’ Stockton was sucking his cock!
Double—fuckin’ … yeah!
“That’s it, Charley,” Dillon hissed as he pulled his cock free, pressed it to Charley’s lips, spreading them open and he pressed forward again. Charley’s lips parted. His mouth opened. And, Dillon’s cock slid back in. Warm. Velvety. Moistness. Surrounding his thick, throbbing cock. Leaving a glistening ribbon of precum in its wake. Blazing a trail where no cock had ever gone before. At least, not as far as he knew. Maybe Charley had gone down on his best friend, Ryan? Or, his other best friend, Bennett? Or, both? Damn, he hoped not; he wanted to be Charley’s first. His conqueror, as it were.
“Is this your first time sucking cock,” Dillon asked hoarsely. Lust saturated his words. They hung in the air like thunder clouds. “Ever given anyone else a blow job? Ryan? Bennett?”
Charley gasped for air as Dillon pulled his drooling cock free from his mouth. He tried to wipe sweat, cock drool, spit from his face but only then realized that he couldn’t. His arms were pinned by Dillon’s thighs. He glanced up. Dillon was waiting for an answer. He shook his head. Felt a blush crashing over his face like a tidal wave.
“No. This … first … time,” Charley sputtered. “First time…. You’re the first.” He started to open his mouth even before Dillon’s cock pressed against his lips for re-entry. He opened for it. He submitted to it. He sucked it.
Did he suck it.
Pride. Lust. Confidence. It all surged within Dillon at that moment. He was taking Charley’s virgin mouth. Oh … fuck … yeah! He pulled back and as he rose to his feet, he pulled Charley with him.
“On your knees, Charley. I want to see you on your knees sucking my cock.”
Charley settled on his knees. He stared at that monster cock that was no more than an inch or two from his face. A cock that was drooling Dillon’s goo and was dripping his own saliva. He looked up into Dillon’s face. The power. The control. The pride. The confidence. Surging. Surging. Taking over.
“You’re my cocksucker,” Dillon said as he slapped Charley’s face with his throbbing chunk of meat. “Say it for me.”
“I may be on my knees and I may be sucking your cock, but don’t push it, dude,” Charley warned as he pulled off Dillon’s dripping cock and glanced up. Two seconds later, and he was back down on it—sucking and bobbing, swirling and slurping.
Like Hell I’m your cocksucker.
Cocksucker? Him? Yeah, right.
Him? Charley Stockton? A cocksucker.
He bobbed and slurped. He bore down the thick, throbbing shaft. He lapped at the combined stream of juice pouring from the head of Dillon’s cock and his own saliva. Copious amounts of both. He lapped and licked and slurped and swallowed.
Yeah, okay—maybe he was a cocksucker.
Where in the Hell did that come from?
And, why did Charley’s cock surge and throb with a newfound, insane intensity? Like never before. Certainly not while he was taking care of Chelsea’s pussy and clit and never getting anything in return. That was for sure. He reached down to pop the button and tug at the zipper of his jeans. His achingly hard cock had already found the escape hatch from his boxer briefs. It sprang out and slammed against his gut the moment that those jeans opened wide enough for it.
Looking down at the sound of the ‘twap!’ it made against Charley’s abs, Dillon took a moment to savor his first closeup view of Charley’s bonage before returning to the task at hand. It was as beautiful as he’d imagined.
“Yeah,” Dillon grunted as he pressed his cock back against those luscious lips. “Show me how much my cock in your mouth turns you on.” “Kiss it,” he said as he rubbed the leaking head of his cock across Charley’s lips, chin, the bridge of his nose. “Kiss it.”
Charley’s brain was swirling. What the fuck was going on, here? Why was he obeying Dillon’s commands like this? Why did it feel so good? So … right? So … hot? So … turning … him … on? He leaned into that monstrous chunk of meat, pressed his lips against it, and—he kissed it.
He kissed Dillon’s cock.
“That’s it buddy.” Dillon said huskily. “That’s it. Kiss it. Worship my cock.”
And, he did. Charley kissed the tip of Dillon’s cock. He kissed it again. He leaned toward it.
“I’m you’re cocksucker.”
Did he just say…?
“I’m your cocksucker.”
“Open up for me, Charley.” Dillon steadied his stance over his friend and he pressed his cock forward. “Open up and suck it, cocksucker.”
And, he did. That is exactly what Charley did. He opened up for it.
Charley opened his mouth and his tongue swirled around the massive head and lapped at Dillon’s thick goo stream. He opened wider and submitted to it as Dillon drove deeper inside. And, he sucked.
What in the fuckin’ fuck fuck fuckin’ fuck was he doing? What the Hell?
Submitting to Dillon’s cock?
Yeah, that was what it was alright. There was little doubt about it. ‘Little’? Make that ‘zero’ doubt about it. He submitted to that super-sized chunk of meat. He submitted to Dillon. One of his closest, tightest friends on the planet—other than Ryan and Bennett.
He opened his mouth fully and he sucked Dillon’s cock.
He was sucking Dillon’s cock!
Sucking it. Swirling his tongue over it. Bobbing down on it. Corkscrewing his way back up. Swallowing that goo. Being mouth fucked. Him? A straight guy? Mouth fucked? By that monster dick? By Dillon?
“Never sucked Ryan, huh? Bennett?” Charley shook his head as best he could, being impaled on Dillon’s cock. “Maybe we should do something about that.”
Charley’s lips spread wider. His jaw opened more. His tongue swirled and licked and swirled. And he sucked. He sucked on the cock that was making itself very much at home in his mouth. Visions flooded his brain at that suggestion. Ryan. Naked. Beautiful granite carved body. Thick, monster of a dick. Ryan. Feeding him his dick. Him—Charley Stockton—on his knees. Taking it. Kissing it. Licking it. Sucking it. Sucking Ryan’s cock. Ryan. Bennett. Bennett. Ryan.
Dillon. Dillon’s cock. Only Dillon’s cock.
The vision grew more intense. Every inch of Ryan’s dick. His free-swinging nuts. The big, thick head. Ryan’s dick. Sucking Ryan’s dick. Bennett. Rock hard, granite built, hugely hung, alphatudinal but adorable Bennett. Bennett. Fucking his mouth. Sucking Bennett’s dick. Licking it. Kissing it. Sucking it.
Fuck. Yeah. Sucking Ryan. Fuck. Yeah. Sucking Bennett.
His tongue licked and swirled.
His jaw fell farther open.
He sucked Dillon’s cock.
He was a cocksucker.
“Fuck, Charley. Fuck! Good. So fucking good,” Dillon choked out. He grabbed both sides of his friend’s head and fucked his cock deeper into his mouth. He moaned softly as he felt Charley’s tongue swirl and lap up his juice. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. So fucking good. Suck it. Keep this up and you may get to be my bitch before the sun comes up.”
Did Dillon think that he was going to…?
Charley’s dick twitched and jerked and drooled out a copious flood of his own juice as that thought struck home. Dillon’s massive cock, spreading his tight pucker wide and fucking deep down inside him. Yeah—that would sure as hell teach Chelsea a lesson or two. Him. Charley John Stockton, IV. Bitching on Dillon’s cock. His fingers were coated with the thick goo that was leaking from his cock. They slid easily up and down, up and down, and—around—Charley’s burgeoning chunk of meat.
“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. Suck it for me.” Dillon pressed his cock deeper into Charley’s mouth. Deeper into his submission. “That would be hot, huh? You. Sucking Ryan’s cock. Sucking Bennett’s cock. On your knees. Sucking their cocks. Fucking hot!”
On my knees. Sucking Ryan. Sucking Bennett. Fucking hot….
He gripped his cock harder. Why was he so turned on? He stroked it more intensely. The vision grew in his blistering, swirling brain. He was sucking Dillon’s cock. Ryan’s cock. Bennett’s cock. Waiting. Waiting their turn at his mouth. Dillon’s cocksucker. Ryan’s cocksucker. Bennett’s coc….
When had he started stroking his cock?
Whoa—he was stroking on it while he sucked Dillon?
“Yeah, that’s it. Suck it. Show me how much you want it.” Dillon shoved deeper into Charley’s mouth. “Take my cock, Charley. You really want it, huh?”
He could feel Charley’s soft, velvety throat … right … there … at the tip of his cock. Fuck that felt incredible. It would feel even better when his cock sank into its depths. Fuck—would he ever love to just keep on sliding in … sliding down … sinking deep into Charley’s throat. Totally buried to the hilt.
Yeah. Right. He was already pushing his luck with what was taking place here. Hell—he still half expected Charley to spring to his feet at any moment, grab him by the shoulders, and throw him over the edge of the bridge … plunging down through the darkness of the night into the river below.
On the other hand, he hadn’t done it yet, so….
“Kiss my balls. Lick ’em for me,” Dillon hissed. “You’re lovin’ my dick, huh? I bet deep down inside you wanna bitch for me.” He shifted his position slightly and stroked deep into Charley’s mouth three more full strokes. “Mmm, yeah … fuck, dude. I bet your pucker is winking and twitching to bitch out for this cock, huh?”
Charley’s mouth slipped from Dillon’s spit and pre-cum dripping cock and he went for his friend’s huge, low-hanging balls. He kissed them. He fucking kissed Dillon’s balls! And, then—he started licking them. Grateful that Dillon was one of those guys, even in high school, that manscaped to the max. Just like he did. He licked at his baby butt smooth balls. He kissed them. He licked them.
And, then—he took one in his mouth and sucked. He was amazed at how it felt. How it moved under his manipulations. How it filled his mouth. Amazed at the flavor and the aroma. The scent was like nothing he had ever experienced. He was unable to figure out why, really—but for some strange reason he wanted to just bury his nose beneath Dillon’s balls and snort in lungs full of that aroma. Dillon’s unique one-of-a-kind scent.
I wonder if Ryan’s scent is like this? If Bennett’s is? Rhett’s? Cullen Lee’s? Heck, even Ellis’?
Finally, almost reluctantly, he opened his lips and let that ball slip from his mouth—dripping with his saliva. He zeroed in on the other ball now. He leaned toward it and kissed it. Kissed it and licked at it and rubbed his nose over and under it before he opened wide and sucked it into his mouth. And, he sucked it. He tongued at it and licked it. He pulled back and gazed at it. He leaned back in and he kissed it. His tongue swirled around it and jabbed at it. He backed up and gazed. He leaned back in and snorted that amazing aroma. He kissed them. And he licked them.
His head rocked back when Dillon impatiently took another handful of hair and aimed his cock at his face. He knew what Dillon wanted. What Dillon wanted, and—mind freakingly, he wanted it, too. He opened his mouth, and Dillon’s cock sank back inside. Why did that feel so … right?
As that throbbing chunk of mean moved back into place between his lips, his mind zeroed in on what Dillon had said. Was that just a minute ago? Seconds ago? An hour ago? He realized that he had lost all sense of time.
His bitch? What the hell? Why did he ask if my pucker was winking and twitching at that idea?
And, more importantly—how did Dillon know?
At the mere mention of him bitching for Dillon, his hole began trembling and spasming like a jellyfish. Talk about a ‘WTF’ moment—this was sure as ‘fuck’ one of them. Why was that so hot? So…? So … what? Bitching for Dillon’s massive cock? Being taken by that monster chunk of meat? Being cream rinsed and bred with Dillon’s spunk?
Dillon withdrew after a couple of minutes of sucking, slurping, swirling cocksucking. He slapped Charley’s face again and again and again with his throbbing bone.
“You’re gonna swallow for me, right? You want my load, Charley? You want to eat my load?”
Oh fuck. Dillon wanted him to take it. Swallow it. Eat it. Oh fuck. What in the Hell was going on here? No fucking way was he going to swallow Dillon’s…!
“Yes,” Charley choked out between gasps for air.
Wait. Did he just…? What the fuck? Did that come out of his mouth? Sure as hell sounded like his voice. Yeah, that sounded just like his voice. What … the … hell?
“Yes, I want your load,” Charley answered as he gasped again for air. As he gazed into Dillon’s gray eyes from there in his place—on his knees. He broke from his friend’s heated, lust filled stare back at him and focused on that drooling cock no more than two inches from his face. “I want your load.”
“You want my load, cocksucker?” Dillon gripped Charley’s hair tighter. A near death grip of hair. Charley Stockton on his knees. Charley Stockton kissing his cock. Licking it. Sucking it. Charley Stockton. His cocksucker.
Charley nodded as he gazed at the dripping cock just an inch or two from his face. His mouth. Yes. He wanted it. Fuck if he knew why. Fuck if he knew what had happened here in the last few minutes. Fuck if he had any clue what the hell was going….
“I, uh, I’m your cocksucker. I want your load.”
“And you want to eat my load? You want to swallow my cum geyser, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Charley said as he gazed up at Dillon’s commanding expression. “I want it in my mouth. I want to eat it.”
“Your….” Fuck he was going to say this? He was really going to say this? “Your … cum. I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to swallow your cum.”
Holy fuck. Wait … geyser? Dillon was going to drown him with cum?
This was not the time to debate the details.
Dillon gazed into Charley’s hazel eyes. Eyes that gazed back at him from there, on his knees, on Trestle Ridge Bridge. Eyes that now seemed to be filled with … something. What was it?
Confusion? Well, duh! That was probably a given, under the current circumstances.
Determination? Huh. Determination for what? Determination to ‘not’ throw him over the bridge and down into those rampaging river waters to….
Okay, this wasn’t the time to start going backwards, here.
Lust? Could it be possible that this very handsome, ‘straight’, athletic god really wanted his cock? Really wanted to swallow every single drop of his massive load? And, there was no question about that; when he came, he came massively. It was like Vesuvius awakened.
Well, there was one way to be sure.
He pressed his cock against those perfect, pouty lips. They opened for him. They submitted to him. And his cock slid inside.
“Suck it for me, Charley.” He pushed deeper into that moist, velvety mouth. That sexy, moist, velvety mouth. “I’m so gonna blow right down your throat and you’re gonna swallow every drop for me.”
Charley Stockton knelt there.
On the old Trestle Ridge Bridge.
With Dillon Jamison’s cock pumping into his mouth.
And, he sucked.
He sucked cock.
He sucked Dillon’s cock.
Visions of Ryan’s cock. Visions of Bennett’s cock. Swirled in his head as he sucked Dillon’s cock. He sucked Dillon’s cock and he waited for that explosion that he knew was just seconds away. He sucked. He sucked. And—he sucked. His mind flooded with visions of him on his knees with Ryan’s cock doing what Dillon’s cock was doing. Bennett’s cock following Ryan’s.
He sucked Dillon’s cock with a voracious hunger like he had never known. He bobbed and swirled and licked and swallowed and bobbed, and—he waited.
He waited for that initial drenching spurt. The first. The second. The third. However many. He waited. He wanted it.
He wanted it.
Fuck knew why, but—he wanted it.
“Yeah, that’s it, Charley. That’s it,” Dillon cooed as he gripped his friend’s head more tightly. “Get ready,” Dillon grunted as he gripped his friend’s head tighter … finger raked his hair … and shoved his cock … one … last … time deep into Charley’s mouth.
“Here it comes, man. Now!”
END of Chapter 6
To be continued . . .
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