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.
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 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.
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Thanks for the warning there, b…u…c…k…o….
Okay. In all fairness, Dillon ‘did’ warn him of the coming deluge. He was thankful—maybe—a status that was still to be determined ‘if’ he survived what was coming—so this was just like the predicament he found himself in a while ago when Dillon’s enormous cock was suddenly prying its way between his lips and into his mouth.
This was all on him—again.
He was certainly unprepared for the volume and the sheer ‘power’ behind Dillon’s orgasm. Had he been prepared, he most certainly would have pulled off, steeled himself, or at the very least—tightened the steel bolts in the sides of his neck. Of course, the first option there was impossible; Dillon had a firm two-handed grasp on Charley’s head. He wasn’t going anywhere.
The first blast of cum felt like it had enough power behind it to blow Charley’s head off his shoulders. He had this immediate vision of his body remaining exactly where he was—kneeling at Dillon’s feet—but in that same vision, his head was hurtling across the planks and rails of the old Trestle Ridge Bridge. Rolling and wobbling like some macabre prop in a B-Class horror flick before careening over the edge and plunging into the murky, raging river waters below.
Numbers two, three, and four erupted into Charley’s mouth just as powerfully as the first. Just as powerful, and—just as much—as that first blast. Charley’s mouth was inundated with Dillon’s thick, creamy, sweetly salty cum. He was unprepared for that, too. The thickness. The creaminess. The sweet saltiness. Again, if he had had just a tad more warning, he would have steeled himself to prepare for the disgusting taste.
It wasn’t disgusting.
It was certainly unlike anything he had ever put in his mouth before; just like the raging hard, massively huge and thick cock that was firmly planted in his mouth even now. Charley had not been prepared for the silken texture, the velvety moist head, the sense of submission to a rigid, power blasting rod belonging to one of his closest friends.
No, it wasn’t disgusting at all. In fact, he found it … enticing? Inviting? Easily capable of becoming … addictive? Good? Yeah, that was it. Charley liked it. He liked the heady aroma of it even as it continued blasting its way inside and swirled around in his mouth. He liked the texture—that thickness and creaminess … that sweet and salt.
Huge, thick spurts continued flooding into his mouth. So many spurts. So much. Charley quit counting after number four. Or, was that number nine now? He had to quit counting at that point because he had to concentrate on more pressing matters like not choking or drowning under the dam bursting flood of cum that kept gushing into his mouth.
He found that ‘gulping’ was the only way to go, here. And, gulp he did. He gulped. And, he gulped. And … he … gulped. His mouth was being completely, totally, entirely Dillon cum-washed and there was no sign of the flood stopping any time soon.
He sucked in air through his flaring nostrils, and—he gulped.
He sucked in air.
And, he gulped.
He sucked in oxygen through his wildly flaring nostrils and he gulped again. That combo move to try to keep from choking to death opened the front door to his throat—just as Dillon snapped his hips forward. His cock. His thick, throbbing, cum-spewing cock took the sudden throat opening as an invitation, and—accepted. In that moment, Dillon’s cock breached Charley’s throat and slid inside. His cock buried itself down Charley’s throat to the hilt—his nose and chin now pressed firmly against Dillon’s body.
Dillon was surging with a power he had never felt in his entire life. Power. Dominance. Alphatudinal-‘oh fuck yeah!’-ness. He had his cock buried in Charley Stockton’s throat! He was pumping rivers of cum down Charley’s throat! Talk about a power rush. And even more of a rush? Charley was taking it. Submitting to it. Swallowing it. Charley’s chin was pressed into his balls. His nose buried in his crotch. His mouth and throat—stuffed full of cock—flooding with wad after wad of cum blasting into him. And, he was swallowing it.
Charley ‘friggin’’ Stockton was gulping down his cum!
Charley’s head was spinning. Seriously spinning. Dillon’s cock was planted so firmly in his mouth and down his throat that he wasn’t sure when he had taken his last breath. He continued gulping and swallowing. His nostrils flared more wildly than ever. It felt as if his brain was turning blue at this point.
And, not a moment too soon.
Dillon began withdrawing. His cock slowly pulled back from Charley’s ravaged throat. Inch after inch of the thick shaft slid from Charley’s still tightly clenched lips. He moaned softly as he felt Charley’s tongue slither around the shaft and then begin licking at the head as it left his throat and began to retreat from his mouth. He slowly pumped back into his mouth … he avoided Charley’s throat this time but he let it rest against the ravaged opening once, twice … five times before pulling back farther and farther until—finally—regretfully—it slipped free from Charley’s mouth with a pop that sounded almost like a gunshot in the stillness of the night.
Charley remained still. Kneeling in place. His head still spun. He gasped for air as he stared at the thick, glistening cock that came back into view as inch after inch of the thick shaft left his mouth. He gawked. He stared. He didn’t even realize that his tongue snaked out and made the rounds; it licked along his lower lip and then up top. He … swallowed. Fuck! ‘All’ of that had been in his mouth? His throat? Nearly chocking the life out of him from its sheer size and girth?
He had just given Dillon a blow job! A blow job and so much more. He had swallowed! He had swallowed Dillon’s cum! He studied a large drop of cum that clung to the slit and threatened to fall to the trestles between them.
Charley leaned forward. As he inched toward the purple, raging head of Dillon’s cock, and—that drop of cum clinging to it, his tongue snaked outward. He made contact. He licked. He drew it into his mouth. He licked again. And, again. His lips pursed and kissed at that huge head. And as he settled back, he licked his lips and again stared at that still throbbing cock. Throbbing. And, throbbing. And … throbbing.
He glanced upward and his eyes connected with Dillon’s. The expression on Dillon’s face was remarkable. A combination of stunned, bewildered, amazed, sated…. His eyes blazed with a fire storm of lightning bolts; a cauldron of bubbling, gurgling sexual intensity mixed with … what … puffy white puppy clouds of emotion?
And then it happened.
Dillon’s balls drew up.
His cock swelled.
His abs flexed and undulated and flexed again.
“Cha…. Oh … fuckin’…! Char … unghfuk…!”
And he came.
A river of cum erupted from his cock and splattered against Charley’s face. Coating it. Dripping down from his chin to river across his chest. His orgasm was so intense and so unexpected that it caught Dillon completely off guard. He reached out to grab Charley’s head for support. This move brought his cock back to Charley’s lips. Lips that opened up and took it inside without instruction. And Charley sucked him dry. Again.
Finally withdrawing, Dillon looked down and grabbed his pulsing cock. He pumped it. He stroked it. He waggled it in front of Charley. Delirious. Giddy. Somehow … triumphant. Stunned over what he had just done, and—what he did next. He slapped it across Charley’s face; it was more playful than ‘domineering’ which he was glad that Charley accepted. His friend’s eyes rolled and he let out a soft snicker. He couldn’t resist another temptation just then. He rubbed his cock in his own cum that was splattered across Charley’s cheeks, chin, jawline.
He pushed his cum covered cock back inside Charley’s mouth to have it licked clean. Again. And, again. And, again. Charley’s face glistened with Dillon’s cum and his own saliva and sweat. Dillon reached out to tenderly stroke his fingers across Charley’s cheek and along the line of his jaw to his chin where a drop of his cum was losing its fight to stay—he scooped it with his forefinger and pressed it between Charley’s lips where his friend licked and sucked it clean.
END of Chapter 8
To be continued . . .
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