Beer No. 01

This is not a real story. However, the characters are real people (although I have changed their names)

*

We sat down. Micheal got out his keys. The only key ring on them was a bottle opener, which, I thought, summed him up perfectly. Micheal was 19, a few months older than me, and, on paper, was not very attractive. He had that extra poundage which a love of beer bought, but you wouldn't tell through his clothes. He had a heavy set face, with off black hair that was just not curly enough. A few spots lingered around his face, but his dark Italian skin partially hid them, and I had it on good authority, and from a surprising number of sources, that he had a small dick. He drove me crazy. He seemed to exude sexuality from every pore; it was something not quite palpable but definitely there. I was, as Micheal was at pains to point out, completely the opposite from him. A pretty boy, slim, pale, with what I had decided was mahogany, but was probably just dark brown, hair, with a wave to it. I had, as I had been told by the few sources that I had, a rather large dick, but, having only porn stars to compare it too, I felt that it wasn't as large as I'd been told. Micheal opened the beer, and we turned on the TV. It was boxing. Some big fight in Vegas, Micheal had said. He'd hired the cable channel especially. I didn't really care much for boxing, but a chance to spend the night with Micheal wasn't to be sniffed at. I wasn't let down.

Micheal answered the door in a tight Metalica tee-shirt and his boxers, which wasn't quite the porn start it sounds like; Micheal generally wanders around in his underwear all the time, leaving a pair of jeans by the door for when he goes out. So, we were sat watching the boxing, or rather, Micheal was sat watching the boxing, and I was sat watching his boxers. They were just cheapo black ones, tight around his thighs, but baggy around his crotch. They still looked good. He opened the two beers with his key ring, and passed me one. I watched him lift the bottle to his mouth, slide his lips around the neck, and take a long swig. Oh God, it was going o be a long night.

The fight ended, eventually, with Micheal and me getting increasingly excited about a pair of boxers. I, however, was showing it in my pants. We'd had about 4 beers each, and Micheal went to go get the last two out of the crate. I quickly stood up to try and hide my erection before he came back in. Try being the operative word. He walked back in just as my dick was fully defined by my jeans. He looked at me, and then looked me right in the eye. He walked around me, eyeing me up, like a predator before his prey. He was behind me now. I felt a hand cup my arse cheek, and another snake up my torso to cup my pec. I collapsed into his embrace, and I lay there, supported by his searching arms, for what seemed like an age. He stroked his hands along my torso and arse, and my dick swelled even more. He span me around, his nose touching mine, his eyes set in a fierce stare straight into mine. I felt his hot breath mingling with mine in the air around us, and parted my lips. He immediately forced his tongue into my mouth, forcing mine back, pinning it down, then roaming around my mouth. His hand snaked to my arse, and pressed it against him. I could feel his flesh against me, and my dick responded. He must have felt it, because he broke the hold, and laid me on the floor. He took my shirt off, then unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off of me. I lay there in my boxers, tenting them with my erect dick, when I saw, as he stood up, his erection. My sources were right when they said it was small, but my, it was thick. I saw its outline in his pants, and my dick pressed against the confines of my boxers. Micheal slid them off of me. He slid his own off, leaving his tee shirt on, and lay down next to me.

He took the two beer bottles, and gave me one, taking the top off with his keys. 'Drink it', he told me, and he watched me hungrily as I slid my lips around the neck. I finished it, and he nodded at his dick. I slid around, laying on my front, with his dick beside me. 'Drink it', he told me, and I took one arm, gripping his opposite him to me, and lay with my head across his torso, gazing at the base of his thick dick. I reached over, and took it all in my mouth, feeling his warmth in my mouth, exploring everywhere with my tongue. I heard Micheal grunt, and a hand slid down my back, coming to rest around my arse cheek, with his fingers just touching my crack. I arched my back, willing him to drive his fingers in, but he didn't. He slid his cock out of my mouth, and had me kneel in front of him. He took his beer bottle, and shook it, then opening it and covering the top with his thumb. I felt warmth on my arse hole, and realized that it was his tongue. I moaned; it was amazing. Micheal took his tongue away, and lowered the bottle neck to my arse hole. He slid half of the neck in as it gushed into my arse. When the bottle wouldn't empty any more, he took it out, and my arse muscles clenched, keeping the frothing nectar inside me. It was heaven. Micheal lay next to me, watching my face as the beer brought me to orgasm, its bubbles and froth making me spasm. Just as I reached the point where I felt I could hold it in no longer, Micheal went back to my arse, his tongue ready. I unclenched with the tide of my orgasm, and Micheal lapped the beer out of me. His tongue was in me, licking out every drop, and I slid to the floor, to weak to support myself. He didn't stop, just forced further into me. He withdrew, and took his beer bottle. I could see my juices glisten around its neck, and he licked them from it, before drinking the rest of the beer. He didn't put the empty bottle down, though. He just looked me straight in the eye with his mischievous glare.

To be continued...

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