A Taste of Man

Deep in the Pennsylvania suburbs, a thousand stars light the sky so blue that the trees ink over as shadows and people fade away before your eyes. As I turned my charcoal grey pickup into the long and rising driveway, I did so in complete darkness. My headlamps had been shut cold 100 yards up the ribbon thin country road. At 2 am in the morning, the odds of another car or human on the road were nil. My truck faded into the darkness as it slowly crept towards the house.

The truck came to an abrupt stop. I could see nothing except one golden lampshade far off in a window. He wouldn't be in the house. He was waiting for me out in his woods.

I stepped out of the truck and onto the gravel. My interior light blazed on and lit me alive, gave me away, he could see me from wherever he was. As the light in my truck drifted back to darkness, I saw the orange flare of his cigarette quickly flash to what must have been his mouth.

In silence I walked along the September grass, on a gentle sloping hill, and soon passed the first level of trees. Beyond the second row, and third I moved, my heart drumming in chest, my head, even down into the soles of my feet. The bright orange smear of light flashed quickly to where his face was. He cleared his throat to help guide me.

The land between us fell away quickly. Not a word was said. The scent of a chain smoker dominated my mind and distracted me from what was before me: a long slender cock, gently tugged on by its owner.

Down to my knees in silence. The smoke mingled with the intrusive aroma of Irish sing and a man's cock took my face in its hands and guided me slowly forward. My lips, intentionally wet, soft, and tightened, pressed to the tip of his cock. I inhaled the scent of soap and slowly rolled the pink tip of my tongue around his slit. Slowly, slowly, I barely massaged the very tip of his cock, bating him to want more, leading him to want to shove his cock past the soft wet tight O of lips I had waiting for him. He did.

While his fingers simultaneously slid into my hair, he forced his cock past my lips. He opened my lips like the fairy folds of a willing woman.

With gentle ease he slow rocked his hips into my mouth. My tongue and lips worked his helmet, again patiently waiting for him to want more, to force his slowly hardening shaft deeper into my willingness.

His cock started at half-erect when I first pressed my lips to him. Now, in my mouth, I could feel it thicken, I hear his breath alter, and his fingertips grew heavier against my scalp.

The spit in my mouth built up, and his upper cock was dripping with it. I was salivating and I was sucking. The firm softness in my mouth grew increasingly addictive. Released from my legs and hips was the tension of my nerves, my anxiety. I sank lower into the cool summer earth and felt his knees bend, and his second hand join his first on the back of my head. He wanted to fuck my mouth. I wanted to have it fucked.

I opened and took it all until it bumped the back of my throat. I briefly gagged and gurgled, but loved it. I wanted more. It was ok. My lips and tongue wrapped themselves around his cock like the darkness hiding us. My teeth seemed to recede and mouth a wet, pulsing sleeve, a milk machine, and now a music machine. I moaned. I sighed. I signaled that I loved feeling his cock slow fuck my mouth, tickling my throat, pushing my throat. I worked through the gag reflex easily as at times I held his tip in my throat and massaged him with it. His grip tightened hard, but he was careful not hurt me. If I kept it up he would be depositing enthusiasm directly into my stomach. I wanted it taste it.

Backing off, I removed my mouth from his cock. It dripped, coated with me. He exhaled loudly, grateful for the break. I slid my face under his hairy sack and ran my tongue around him. I found a lot of masculine scented hair, a sensitive smooth spot under his sac, and slight of the underside curve of his rim. He liked my tongue there.

Leaning back against the tree to change the angle, my friend raised his right leg and rested his thigh on my left shoulder. I slid my tongue more onto his hole. His left hand went down to the back of my neck and massaged it in encouragement. As I found the position that allowed my tongue to begin to explore the inner rim of hole, his right thigh wrapped more tightly around the back of my neck and held me tight. His gamey pubic hair covered my face and the full scent of man swam up my nose.

I massaged his whole like this for a long time. It had no taste, but it made him feel real good and it gave my jaw a break. The kinky nature of it and his soft exclamations of 'Fuck yeah and Dude, you are going to get a huge load' turned me on. My own cock screamed against my pants painfully. I knew my cock was leaking.

When I was ready for more cock I came out from under and walked away from the tree, which caught me by surprise. To my even greater surprise there was a large quilt on the ground, which I hadn't noticed before. He lay down on his back, spread his legs with his knees in the air, and said 'Finish me, Dude. Fucking finish me.'

I crawled over and took his cock with only my mouth. It had started to soften. This made me hot, as I knew I had at least a few more minutes of cock in my mouth. So, again, I slow milked with long full strokes, going from sensitive rim of the head all the way to the root, up and down, up and down, just so I could feel his cock widen and length. I love how that feels in my mouth in the same way that random textures feel nice against your hands or body. It surprised me how nice it felt.

'Oh dude, finish me...you are torturing me. Fuck....finish me, baby,"

With that. With 'baby' I went after his load. I milked harder and wetter than he previously experienced with me. I gave him my throat. Opening my mouth wide I fucked his cock with my throat and the sound was everything you'd imagine: wet, squeaky, rubbery. His panting increased. I took one last long swallow of his cock and managed to get a good portion of his head into my throat. I swallowed quickly four or five times. I know the ridges in my throat rolled across the sensitive part of his cock. His hip muscles were twitching, almost tightening.

I slid up higher on his cock, familiar with what was next, and I pumped the upper half with my soft pussy. He exhaled in a mix of pleasure and thrill. The gush of fluid washed against my tongue. Twice. Three times. He bucked and kept coming. My mouth filled and his heavy load of cum surround his cock head with slick warmth. He sighed and gasped quickly as I tortuously sucked on his head while mouth still held his seed. I swallowed it and still sucked. It all went down my throat. I loved the taste, the texture, the glow of energy that seem fly from my mouth. I continued to slow milk his softening cock. He moaned, "That was a huge load. Oh my god, that was a huge load. I'm fucking sweating."

I pulled up from his cock, stood and walked back in the direction I came. I couldn't see my truck in the darkness but I knew it was there. Nothing but silence as I stumbled along the grass, dizzy with sex.

I climbed in my truck, cum coated my lips. The light in my cab flared on again, and soon washed away. Everything grew dark around me. In the distance I could the quick orange dart of light rise and fade away into the earth.