Of course, it was a favour for a friend, nothing more than that. We were in a trendy city wine-bar and Philip -- my boyfriend, gets into talking to this guy, in his mid-forties I guess, says his name is Geoff and he's a friend or colleague or something, I'm not really paying attention. Seems Geoff's wife is away visiting family and he's feeling so horny and frustrated he's thinking of calling up one of those dubious escort services. Philip says 'you don't need to do that' -- and he indicates me, 'if it'll help, he'll give you a blow-job in the car-park.' I'm a little taken aback. I know how men are, this is both a test of his control, and of my obedience. He's making a gift of me. I can't be seen to let him down. But Geoff seems even more unsure, he looks at me, I give a sulky smile, he gulps back his drink and stands up. Philip pats me on the bottom and indicates I should follow him.
Outside the car-park is in half-shadow, Geoff leads me to his BMW. He turns and speaks to me for the first time, 'is this OK with you?' 'If my boyfriend says it's fine, it's fine with me.' He grunts, unfastens his belt and unzips, and as we get into the back seat he's already shoving his pants down to his knees. Just a little flustered, avoiding his eyes, I wriggle down, he's un-cut, still soft, but evidently quite big. He winces nervously the first time I fondle it in an exploratory way, but as soon as I nuzzle down and gulp it into my mouth it responds, stiffening and erecting as my tongue slithers around it. He moans low in his throat as I establish a strong sucking rhythm, smoothing his fat balls with the palm of my hand. When he moans 'oh fuck!' I know I have him.
The car windows are steaming up as I make slurpy noises. The dashboard light casts pale illumination. After some considerable time his hips begin moving, fucking my mouth, his hands come down to clasp my head and force it further in, until with a series of gaspy moans he begins shooting off into me. I gulp and suck, gulp and suck, gulp and suck until he's done. He eases his grip on my head as I come up for air. 'That was amazing' he says hoarsely. To hide my blush, and to show my appreciation, I go back down and suck his messy cock some more until it wilts. After a while we return to where my boyfriend is waiting. 'Did that do the trick?' asks Philip. 'It was great' manages Geoff, obviously a little embarrassed 'better than my wife ever did.' 'No problem, any time you feel the need. Or maybe you should simply get your own little faggot?' I look down at my feet just a little agitated, but with a warm smug feeling inside...
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It began some years ago, I was in a 'relationship' with Philip, a dominant older man who I was totally and absolutely besotted with. Maybe I was young and gullible, I wasn't used to the ways of Gay sex, feeling my way, naΓ―ve and uncertain. I'd been through a long confusing darkness, a period of scared anguish and self-harming. But you know what it's like when you meet the guy of your dreams and you want to do everything you can to keep him coming back for more? It was like that. I couldn't believe he was in my life and wanted me. When I lose my Call-Centre job he helps pay the rent on my crummy tenement apartment, he makes me feel good about myself. I was burning for him, so aching with lust for him that I couldn't control or remotely understand. A lean toned man in his early fifties, in good physical shape, he was sophisticated, erudite, experienced. When he talks art, literature and culture with his friends, there's no way I can understand, never mind contribute. I'm nervous, young and intimidated by his awesome sexual charisma. So scared that I'll appear unworldly, that he'll be disappointed, that I'll be inadequate. So frightened that he'll dump me if I fail to equal his expectations.
I'd never before felt attractive or desired. I'd never felt at ease with my own body, I always felt myself to be skinny and awkward, with parchment-pale skin stretched tight over a fine white emaciation bone-structure. He teaches me to feel differently. When I was shy and self-conscious of my body, he encourages me to be naked for him. 'Stand up straight, arms by your sides, don't hide yourself, don't cover yourself with your hands. Take pride in your body. Let me see you.' Knowing he's watching me. Watching the lazy down-hung angle of my cock over my tight balls, the round accentuated curves of my peach-bottom, my skin smoothly hairless but for the brief pubic scut. He talks about my dark curls of nut-brown hair. When he says I'm a sultry pre-Raphaelite debauch, a catamite, I don't understand the words, but pick up on the approval, until my being naked with him is absolutely natural. And I'm in absolute heaven when he fucks me. He knows the power he has over me, and forces it to the limits. I'd been sucking him off regularly for some weeks before he said he wants to deep-throat me, and I was almost embarrassingly eager to prove I could do it for him.
'Bitches Brew' surges from the music centre. I was naked and ready. On my knees, worshipping him. Like it was a privilege that he'd even allow me the opportunity of sucking his cock, which was palpitating with prominent veins as blue as those in Stilton cheese. Knowing in my mind that so many other boys out there would be jealous of what he was allowing me to do. Taking his cock as deep as I dare, sucking hard, using my tongue... like he's shown me. Closing my teeth gently behind the pronounced ridge of his glans, and tugging, as he'd coaxed me to do on previous occasions. Loving the taste of him, the heat of his pulsing cock in my mouth. Grateful to him. But I know he expects more this time. I can't let him down. I take him deeper, forcing as much of it into my mouth as I can, until it comes up hard against the back of my throat, and makes me gag uncontrollably. I suck his big beautiful cock for longer as I attempt to take it deeper and deeper, choking and gagging on it. He's holding my head, talking firmly but encouraging, calling me a 'Good Little Cock-Sucker, Good Little Cum-Slut.' There are tears running down my face, I'm sobbing with effort. He takes a firmer hand, he's holding my head and begins fucking his big hard cock into me, taking it deeper at each thrust, fucking as deep into my throat as he can, reducing me to a drooling, slobbering mess of saliva and tears. But I crave more.
Eventually we break off, he turns to flip the vinyl album over onto the turntable and drops the stylus precisely into the play-in groove. While the soft jazz shimmers we study some Porn clips, in order to copy their technique. This time with me lying naked on my back with my head hanging off the edge of the dirty cum-stained bed. I wait. I smell sex, sweat and semen. It's in my nostrils. An intoxication in my mind. I'm aware of the sound of flies buzzing up against the windowpane. Then he's moving around me. Feeding his stiff cock back into my mouth inch by inch. He leans forward, pinning me down as he begins fucking my mouth in long slow strokes. I'm squirming and mewling, but so very afraid to show my discomfort. In such a state of high arousal that my own cock is so achingly hard, smaller than his but bobbing and bouncing across my gut as I writhe and wriggle. As the head of his cock lodges in my throat I'm so dizzy with panic and pleasure that I immediately start to spontaneously cum, spurting white jets of spunk up my stomach and across my legs. I'm groaning, lost in sweaty orgasm, losing any semblance of self-control, and in that moment of total and complete abandonment, I gulp, and his cock lodges all the way in, all the way down my throat, his fat testicles squash over my nose. I'm bucking and choking, red-faced, wet with tears. Can't believe I've taken it all.
He eases it back gently, patting my head, calling me 'Good Boy, Good Slut'. For a moment I'd felt I was suffocating. I'd felt choked. But at the same time, I was in a state of ecstasy that I'd succeeded in meeting his demands. Complete engulfment. He withdraws a little -- allowing me to gasp air, then slides all the way back in, and fucks my throat comfortably. It goes on for some time. Then he allows the saliva-wet head to rest just inside my mouth, on my lower lip, I feel the heat of its soft weight, he pauses... my tongue flicks up and around the glistening glans, coaxing, urging, until he pulses, it swells and kicks, and he cums in great white gushes, shooting his jism into me one jet at a time. Generous spurts, but contrary to what Porn would lead us to believe, there's seldom more ejaculate than the cocksucker can comfortably deal with. I wait... as he's instructed me, as my mouth fills with his spunk. Cloyingly pungent, the very essence of maleness. Then I gratefully swallow. Lick and suck his cock clean. Even as he softens I can't help but suck, lick and kiss that beautiful cock that's sundered my throat and taken me to such heights. I'm smiling, overjoyed. I say 'thank you' and mean it.
Once is never enough. Inevitably, there are more occasions. It's a kind of hunger. A form of addiction. Each time he deep-throats me it gets easier, I get better at it. Through voluptuous days I learn to love each time he fucks my throat, until I ache for the next time. Until he starts calling me 'Deep-Throat Boy'. He says he's so proud of me he wants a clip on his mobile of me deep-throating him. I swell with a glow of slutty pride, but it's difficult for him to mouth-fuck me and film it at the same time. So eventually he turns up at my apartment with a leering friend who Philip explains is going to do the filming. I'm nervous and more than a little shy of having sex with an audience there, but I'm even more scared of upsetting Philip by betraying my reluctance.
So I undress coyly, forcing myself not to conceal, and lie on the bed, arms by my side. Philip maneuvers himself around and begins fucking my mouth as the friend watches and brings the phone in close to record every detail, from short initial thrusts into my mouth, then longer and deeper, holding his cock tight into my throat at the point of maximum penetration, clear to the final moments of my mouth filling with his spunk. Naturally, afterwards, they're joking around as I still lie there naked, breathing heavily. The 'friend' says he's jealous, and that he wants his cock sucking too. It's only right, after all, he's come here to do a favor by doing the filming. Isn't it only appropriate that he gets a reward? Philip muses, as though considering the proposition, then agrees, without even consulting me. The friend drops his pants. I have no choice. I meekly and compliantly get down there and suck him off. Naturally, mid-way, he wants the full deep-throat experience. Fortunately he's smaller than my boyfriend, and I'm able to take him all the way down quite comfortably.