"Oh, yeah, that's good!"
He had moaned that into my left ear in between his heavy breaths, hunched over me, his hands holding my head in place, his hips thrusting forward and back, his hard cock sliding in and out of my mouth. Our clothes were scattered somewhere on the floor of his bedroom, but whereas he wanted to be naked in the privacy of his house, I did not. He was taking longer than the previous time when he had me trapped like this on my knees before him and my eyes were tearing, my neck was straining as I worked to keep it at an unnatural angle to accommodate his upward thrusting cock as it moved faster and faster in and out of my mouth.
"Don't you stop, keep sucking it," he demanded, increasing the grip of his hands holding the back of my head. With each push forward he was pumping his thighs up and into me, almost lifting my knees up off the carpet as the swollen head of his dick slid against the roof of my mouth, touching the opening of my throat as he was as far into me as I could accommodate and I was struggling to not gag on him. He had told me that he didn't want to hear any gagging, that if I was a good sucking boy I could do it without making any noises of discomfort. He had also told me that I was to suck him, not just provide an opening for him, and I was to work my tongue around the underside of his seven plus inch long cock as he thrust in and out of my mouth. The unique taste of skin was present as was his distinct smell, not overpoweringly bad but not pleasant either and with each push of his midsection into my face his bush of medium brown hair above his hard shaft would make contact with my nose and eyes.
John was older than me, probably about 21 compared with me having just turned 18, a rather young looking 18, at that. I lived in a state where the legal drinking age was 18 and when just a few days earlier I had gone to a liquor store to buy a six pack of beer, the guy at the counter looked at my drivers license, which in that state had no photo on it, and said it had to be fake because I looked a lot younger than 18. He eventually concluded I really was 18 after grilling me with questions from my license information and another customer saying he knew me and I was indeed who the license said I was. Thinking about it now as an adult decades later, a few years of age difference has few implications at this point in life but back then it seemed huge. John was several inches taller than I was and more maturely developed compared with my thin and smaller frame. I was a smooth boyish type of guy and had yet to really start the transition into an adult whereas he was maturing into a man with muscle definition, a face that needed shaving each day and hair on his legs, chest, stomach and around his cock. Overpowered by him, I steadied myself while he continued to pump his dick in and out of my mouth. I had reached around his legs and held onto him just below his butt cheeks to steady myself and not be knocked over backwards as he worked himself into me with increasingly urgent and more forceful thrusting.
"Mmmmm, yes, that is so good," he murmured, not as any form of compliment but simply a statement of what he was feeling.
For me, though, it was anything but good. I didn't want this. I had not wanted it the first time it happened a couple weeks earlier and I didn't know how to make it stop because I was afraid of what he had said would happen if I didn't continue to do what he demanded. My mind wandered a bit, probably a subconscious defense mechanism to take me at least mentally away from what was occurring. I shouldn't have gone to his house that first day, that's what I thought as I felt the definition of his cock, the enlarged head, the veins that ran along the sides, moving past my lips, over my tongue and against the inside of my mouth and throat.
"Yeah, that's good, keep it up," he said, his voice snapping me back into the present, pulling me away from the brief mental diversion from being in that room with him. I could feel his body beginning to stiffen. "Ohhhhh, yessssss," he said as his cock swelled and I had to widen the opening of my mouth to accommodate his rock hard dick's increase in width. He adjusted his position, his moves became jerky and I knew he was beginning the process that would end with him unloading in me. His hands left their grip on my head and he lowered his chest onto my back in a sort of bear hug over me as he continued thrusting his hard cock into my mouth. He reached around and locked his hands together holding onto my stomach to get the angle he wanted and I felt him press his torso firmly against me, the side of his face and rough cheek coming to rest and rubbing against my ass cheeks.
"Take it, suck me," he cried out as he thrust himself into me with intensified urgency. He was overpowering me, I was working hard to not collapse under the weight of him, to keep my mouth positioned so his dick could make its continued entry and retreat, to move my tongue the way he said to do to give him the pleasure he required from me. I then felt his hands slide from holding my stomach and move down and envelope my cock and balls and begin to fondle them as he continued the assault of his hard shaft in and out of my mouth. He was rock hard but I was only somewhat firm as he rubbed my dick with his hands.
"Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm," he groaned in time with his thrusting and then he made a firm push into my face, his balls touching my chin and his bush of pubic hair pressing against my upper lip and nose. He pushed himself hard into me, held firm for a moment pressed inside me to the limit my mouth would allow and his rod convulsed as his cum shot out of him and into my mouth. He screamed, "Oh, oh, ahhhh, ahhhh," as he pumped his rigid cock with each shot of warm liquid that comtinued to flow and fill my mouth. I could not help gagging at that point as it felt like my air was cut off and I wanted to spit him out but he would not recede enough from me, sliding back but not out, only to return in and seal his cum in me.
"Swallow it, swallow you cock sucker" he commanded but I coughed instead and his cum splattered out around his cock as my lips reflexively opened, coating his balls and the hair above his still hard shaft. "Damn you! You pussy," he yelled as he pulled out of me and grabbed me by the shoulders.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I tried but I just couldn't," I blurted out.
He said nothing but glared at me and then pushed me, sending me onto my back on the floor before him as he stood up above me panting and continuing his stare into my tear filled eyes. I scrambled back from him and got up, rushing out of his room and into the bathroom in the hall. I spit his cum into the sink, ran water into my hands and splashed it onto my face. I feared he would come in and grab me and make me pay dearly for not following his order that when he came I was to swallow all of what he shot into my mouth. But he didn't.
When I went back into his room he was finishing putting his clothes back on and he just looked at me and said, "Go ahead, get dressed and get out of here. And remember, don't you tell anyone about this or else."
He didn't have to elaborate because I knew the threat. It was practically always on my mind since he first issued it a couple weeks earlier. I rushed to put my clothes back on and left John's house. I had not wanted this. I didn't even know "this" could happen. I had engaged in some mild sexual activity such as skinny dipping, reading Playboy magazines with a couple of friends and having the excitement of that clandestine viewing turn into us playing with each other's cock and jerking off together but it was all with guys who were my same age and similar in bodily maturity to myself. It was all quute innocent comoared to what had occurred with John and I left his house in a stunned state of mind, still reeling from the experience and thinking thatnuf I had never come to know John it would have been just fine by me.
John and his parents had moved in across the street from my house one fall. With a three or so years age difference between us, he was not really a friend but instead just someone that I would see outside occasionally and came to know after some neighborly introductions had been made between our families. Our interaction with each other for the first several months was pretty much just to say hello and exchange idle chatter if we'd see each when I was out riding my bike to somewhere or when I was hanging out with friends in the street in front of my house.
It was the following summer on a rainy afternoon that I was outside my house in between periods of rain and John had also come out of his front door and called over to me and we began talking. He invited me over to his house when the rain started up again and I decided to go. I think I was expecting that we'd probably watch something on TV. When we got inside John directed me to the dining room and we sat at the table and continued talking. He indicated that both of his parents worked and he didn't have much to do but hang around his house during the summer break in school.
When I made an indication of going back to my house, John commented on the rain being pretty heavy and said I'd get soaked and that I ought to just wait it out. He then suggested we could play cards to pass the time, went to get a deck of cards and returned to the table.
"You know how to play poker?"
