Summary:
Married man becomes a cock sucker for a big-dicked teen.
Note 1:
This is a Summer 2021 Contest Story so please vote.
Cock Next Door
I arrived home after being gone for five days at a summertime principals' conference, since I'd just been promoted to vice-principal of the high school I'd been teaching at for the past twenty years. I was excited about my new professional opportunity, but also felt a little remorseful, since when school started up again in the fall I wouldn't be in the classroom for the first time in two decades.
It was my first time travelling on my own in over a year and a half, and it was great for a few reasons.
1. Although I loved my wife and kids, it was great to have a few days of peace and quiet, with no drama.
2. It was great to participate in face to face meetings...like every other person on the planet, I was sick to death the Zoom variety.
3. I'd finally gotten to suck some cock after going a year and a half without any.
God, had I missed cock.
I'd been sucking cock for a few years before COVID, but only when I was on the road. So perhaps five or ten times a year... sucking at least one, and as many as five during a trip (three in a row at a hotel being my personal best for one night).
Otherwise I was completely straight.
Like many men, I'd learned, if online chats and erotica were to be believed, that I wasn't gay, since I didn't find men attractive. They didn't turn me on. I didn't want to fuck one, or to get fucked. (Okay, truth be told, I was curious what it would be like to get ass fucked, but that was far as I'd allowed myself to go... well, other than using some anal toys while I was alone in my hotel room watching porn (which always started with lesbian clips, would shift to some shemale porn, and always ended with gay clips from porn hub, watching guys ass fucking each other. I have no idea why the sound of a guy getting pounded always turned me on and made me shoot my load.)
I just love cock.
I love the look of a cock... always have... although I'd never considered sucking one until I was forty-two, but since then I've sucked at least thirty of them... of all sizes... and a variety of races.
I love the variety of cock. Like a snowflake, every cock is unique. Unique in length... girth... shape... and taste.
I love the feel of a cock hardening in my mouth.
I love the sensations of being on my knees.
I love those brief moments where I can set my manhood on the shelf and explore the thrill of my feminine side.
I love anticipating cock. Being on Grindr, connecting with someone, driving somewhere to meet him, dropping to my knees, seeing a brand new cock in front of me and, of course, sucking it.
I love being called names while I suck a stranger's cock.
I love the feeling of a cock pulsing in my mouth, and the rush of adrenaline, which always sends a chill up my spine in anticipation of the load's imminent extraction.
I love feeling the warm cum. I was surprised at first at how warm cum actually was the moment it erupted from a throbbing cock to slide down my throat or be splattered onto my face, and I've never tired of that sensation.
Yet I also hate my addiction to cock and cum. I crave it the same way I used to crave a cigarette, back when I was a smoker.
I hate that finding cocks to worship isn't easy to do.
I hate the risk of being outed, which is why I never do it anywhere near my home. (Although I broke that rule once in a gas station bathroom, but afterwards I was terrified I might happen upon the chubby man again while I was out with my wife, or attending a hockey game with my kids.)
I hate how I can never talk to anyone about this addiction. I'd love to be able to tell someone about the big cock I sucked in a semi, or the time I was sucking a guy in his garage, and his wife came in and chatted with him across the hood, unaware that on the other side of the car, there I was with her husband's cock in my mouth. Or the time I sucked a twenty-year-old while his girlfriend watched and fingered herself, or the time I sucked my first and only BBC. The point being no matter whether I'm excited or ashamed at a given time, I have nobody I can talk to about it.
I hated... yes, past tense this time, and you'll soon see why... that I couldn't simply have access to a reliable cock in town that was discreet, where it could give me the weekly fix I so badly craved.
And yet as you must have already guessed, that's no longer the case, and it transpired because I forgot to log out of the app.
I arrived home from the trip I mentioned at the beginning, and found a note from my wife saying she and the kids were spending the day at the beach, and they wouldn't be home until after dinner. She asked that I water the garden, so after changing into shorts and a t-shirt, I did.
I was doing the watering when Mike, an ex-student of mine who'd graduated a month ago and was also my next door neighbour, called out from his deck, "Hey, Mr. Waters, how's it going?"
"Good," I said, closing the hose nozzle and turning to him.
"Great day today," he said, acting a bit strange.
"Yeah, all that smoke from the fires finally seems gone," I said, it being a smoky summer from all the fires in the north and east.
"Yeah, it's nice to see some blue sky for a change," he said.
"Agreed."
"When you're done watering, can you come over? I could use a hand with something," Mike asked.
"Sure," I said. "Be nice to help you for once." His dad was in the trades, a handyman of many skills, while I was a teacher with almost no hands-on abilities, and thus it was almost always their family doing most of the neighbourly helping over the years.
"Great, see you soon," he said.
"Yeah, I'll be there in five or so," I said.
"Great," he repeated and headed back into his house.
I finished watering, drank some water from the hose, it being surprisingly hot outside. I realized I'd need to do some more watering in the evening, since right now the hot sunlight was drying up the water before enough of it could sink into the ground. So instead of doing a thorough watering right now, I cut it short and headed over to join Mike.
I knocked on the door, and he yelled to come in.
I walked in and he said simply, "Follow me outside."
"Sure," I said, and I followed him through the house and out back.
"So," he said, "what's new?"
"Not much," I shrugged, still thinking he was acting a bit odd.
"Nothing at all?" he asked.
"Well, I'm going to be vice-principal in the fall," I said, the summer sunlight really pounding us.
"Cool," he said, as we went down the stairs of his deck.
"I'm not sure whether it's cool or not; I have mixed feelings so far," I said.
Once we were on the patio, he turned to me and said, "I never fathomed you being one."
"Pardon?" I asked, that not making much sense.
He went to a deck chair, sat down, pulled out his phone and typed something into it.