First Taste of Cum Part 289    
          by Bill Beaumonte (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)  



This work of fiction contains explicit material intended for adults over 18. If you are under 18 or are offended by non-traditional sex, do not continue.  




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Author’s note:
This series presents a number of independent stories of about youthful first blowjobs. Some of these are inspired by my readers. I hope you enjoy this series.


Scent of a Man

    I'm Pete, a fourteen-year-old guy who discovered how arousing jock straps could be. I jacked-off to gay internet porn, especially cocksucking scenes, where I imagined myself sucking groups of horny men. I loved the way jock straps looked, and as soon as I got into Junior High, I told my mom I needed them for gym class. That was a lie, but I loved the way they felt. About half the guys in gym class wore jock straps, and I would imagine them pressing their pouch to my face, slipping their cocks out and making me suck them. Of course, that never happened – it was just a fantasy, but I shot a lot of cum thinking about it.

One night I was began jacking off at bedtime, which was my favorite way to end the day, when I got an idea. I got my jock strap out of the laundry basket and brought it back to my bed. I pressed the pouch to my nose. I felt the slight dampness from my ball sweat and inhaled the manly smell. I discovered that I could put the jock strap over my head with the waist band touching my shoulders and the pouch covering my face, giving me a full dose of ball sweat! I came quickly and drifted off to sleep thinking about how I could expand on this new kink of mine.

For a couple of weeks, I jacked-off every night inhaling my own aroma. Then I realized that it would be even better to smell someone else’s jock strap – but how? I certainly couldn't ask for it, so for awhile I just imagined that I was smelling someone else. Then one day I was the first to return to the locker room after showering and I saw a jock strap on the bench near me. I quickly picked it up and stashed it in my gym bag. I got dressed and left for my next class.

That night my jack-off session was even better, and I knew I needed to get more. The jock strap I swiped was good for about a week and then the scent began to fade. I would hurry to get my shower over so I could find another jock strap to enjoy, and got a new one that way every few weeks, and it seemed like my theft was not noticed.

Then one day I had to run a few extra laps, so I got to the shower late. I was the last out of the shower and everyone else was dressed and out of the locker room ahead of me. I hurried to catch up, and as I got up to leave, I noticed a jock strap on floor by the next row of lockers. I took a quick look around and then picked it up and put it in my gym bag.

"So you're the one!" I heard, and looked up to see Mike, who I thought had already left.

I feigned ignorance and replied, "What?"

"You're the jock strap thief," Mike said, "I'll bet you're really enjoying them too!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I insisted, trying to brush past him.

But he grabbed me and pulled the zipper of my gym bag, forcing it open. "See?" he said, "That proves it!"

"Bullshit!" I insisted, "That's mine."

Mike grabbed the jock strap and showed me his name on it, and I could think of nothing to counter.

"It's not what you think," I said.

"I'll bet it's exactly what I think," replied Mike, "Now what should I do about it?"

"I need to get to class," I protested.

"That can wait," assured Mike, "Now I could tell the coach we've caught our thief."

"No, don't do that!" I pleaded.

"Or I could just tell all the guys in our class what a faggot you are," he added.

"Please Mike,", I begged, "Don't do that."

"Perhaps we can work something out," Mike said.

"Yeah, that would be good," I eagerly agreed. I thought I might have to do his homework or wash his car or something like that.

"Come to my house after school," Mike said, "I'll figure it out by then."

I agreed and was glad Mike wasn't going to turn me in, or out me to the entire class.

After school I went to Mike's house and he let me in. "Take off your clothes," he said.

I hesitated, and he added, "We both know you're a faggot, so don't even try to deny it."

He had me, and I was helpless to resist. I undressed and stood there with my boner pointing at him. I was ashamed and aroused at the same time. "On your knees," he said.

I dropped to my knees and Mike approached me, dropping his pants and pressing his full pouch to my face, while pulling my head toward him. Smelling his pouch while full was even more exciting than anything else I'd done, and Mike ordered me to jack-off. My head was in a fog and my judgement was seriously impaired, so I began to stroke. He tossed a box of tissues onto the floor next to me and told me not to get any cum on the carpet.

It didn't take long before I shot my load and had the strongest climax ever. Then what I had just done hit me. I loved every moment of it, but right now I hung my head in shame. "Put the tissue in your mouth and chew on it, like gum," Mike said. I did and got my first taste of cum – a strong and very different taste – unlike anything else.

"Now that you've proven to me you how much of a faggot you are, how do you feel about it?" he asked.

"A little ashamed, I guess," was my reply.

"You would be a lot more ashamed if this got out to everyone," Mike responded.

"Please Mike," I begged, "Don't tell, I'll do what you want."

Mike told me to follow him to his bedroom. He told me I could spit out the tissue once I'd swallowed all the cum.

"Lay on your back on the bed," he said, and I did so. Mike shed his pants and jock strap and climbed onto the bed, kneeling over my head, lowering his balls to my face.

"Open wide," he said, and I opened my mouth. He pushed one ball into my mouth and then pulled my mouth open to the side and slipped the other in. "If you hurt me, you’re finished," he said, and I did my best to treat his balls with respect and care.

He told me to lick his balls, so I moved my tongue around as he stroked his cock. "I'm gonna give you my load," he said, "And I want you to swallow every drop." I was no longer aroused, which gave me a clarity of mind – there was no doubting what I was doing, and I knew I was doing it voluntarily – and was begining to like the act itself – not because I was aroused.

He pulled his balls out and shoved his cock into my mouth, pumping his load into me. Now that I was thinking objectively, the load tasted even stronger than mine, but I knew that I wanted it. I swallowed obediently, with my eyes glued on Mike's pubic hair and as much as his cock as I could see.

"Look up here," Mike said. I looked up and he snapped a picture – now he really had me.

"Pete," Mike continued, "There is no need to worry as long as you cooperate."

"You got me," I acknowledged, "So what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing you haven't been longing to do all along," explained Mike, "Just suck me whenever I tell you to." I agreed without protest. Mike handed me his jock strap and told me to enjoy it but bring it back laundered.

I walked home from Mikes, a little shaken from what I'd just been through, but thrilled as well. I'd be sucking cock regularly and hopefully others won't find out about it.

The next week I sucked Mike every day after school, but after that it was three or four times a week. Then he started having his friends over for me to suck. At first I protested, though I really had no choice in the matter. I did ask them to promise not to tell anyone – all agreed and most kept their promise. It only took a few guys to break their promise before a lot of people got to know. If guys asked me to blow them I would, but if they were just picking on me, I'd deny it.

Mike and I grew closer as I continued to suck him. In the beginning he treated me like a dirty faggot, but soon I had become his valued suck-buddy. He often had me hang out with him and would often offer me his cock in unexpected places.

On days I don't suck Mike, he often hands me paper bags containing his jock straps. He gave them to me often enough that I would get one or two uses from them, and then wash and return them.

When Mike got married his wife made him stop wearing jock straps, but I still blew him. I learned that married guys need it more than unmarried guys – marriage has a way of destroying a guy's sex life! I realized that I actually have Mike's wife to thank for the steady stream of cum that Mike continues to feed me!

Special thanks to my online friend, Mark McDonnell, for inspiring this story!

  To be continued . . .

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.
    –Bill Beaumonte (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)