Cock Sucker Having My Fill Of Phil

Phil was a friend. He was more than a friend. He was a friend with benefits.

Some years ago now, I'd been abruptly dumped by a married Boyfriend when his wife began to suspect he wasn't being entirely faithful to her (she found out something was going on - although she never imagined it was a young guy sucking his cock...! And she wasn't so much offended by the fact that I was gratefully sucking him off, as by the fact that he was spending money on me...!). So I drift into a kind-of flat-share arrangement with Phil. We had history. We'd seen each other around the Manchester Gay Village, we knew each other. We were never lovers. We both had our separate lives going on around us. It was a mutually advantageous financial arrangement, but we were both young highly-sexed mid-twenties guys ravenous for experience and open to just about anything, so I guess we were friends-with-benefits! He was blonde, we were frequently naked together, so my darker complexion makes a perfect complement, and being lusty young males with more than a passing interest in Gay Sex... well, you can guess the result.

He would come out of the shower naked, towelling his hair, knowing full well that I was watching him, fully aware that my attention was lustfully transfixed on the tempting sway of his beautiful cock. His body was smooth and virtually hairless, his cock beautifully shaped. I sucked him off. He sucked me off. We would sixty-nine. We sixty-nined a lot, in fact - whenever we got the chance, and that's the most perfect ecstasy-feedback technique ever devised for the mutual satisfaction of mankind. I adored his cock. We both had six-and-a-half-inch circumcised cocks - I know, because we measured each other, but his was the most beautiful I've ever had the pleasure of. Smoothly sculpted with a perfectly suckable heart-shaped head, a network of tiny blue blood-veins along the shaft, with the raised underside ridge of his sperm-duct leading down to his fat tight balls nestling in a fine nest of sparse blonde public hair. We would spend long indulgent naked sessions just sixty-nining, me sucking him, then him sucking me, then sucking each other, laughing, squirming and groaning out our mutual ecstasy.

There are some men who don't like their cocks being touched once they've cum - due to their sensitivity, whereas one of my great pleasures is to continue sucking that messy cock long after he's cum, playing mouth and tongue-games around his cock as he loses that rigidity. With Phil I could suck him long enough for him to re-firm so that the mouth-fucking games could resume all over again. We had a powerful curiosity about sex, and used each other to explore the outer limits of our desires, and rehearse what we intended doing with more 'serious' partners. He liked to fuck my bum-hole, and he wanted me to use him anally too. I'd never done that before and never really had a serious interest in doing it, but his bottom was fully-rounded, like a girl, and at his encouragement, once I'd eased my erect cock into the puckered orifice of his tight kiss-hole it did feel strangely exciting. Once I'd fully penetrated and begun fucking him, it was impossible to stop. The way he squirmed and mewled with pleasure only urged me on, until we both came joyously. Although we didn't make a regular thing of it.

He was also eager to try piss-play, something else I'd never thought of. The piss incident only ever happened once. With us both naked in the bathtub he pissed over me, and the warm urine-jet playing over my body was actually quite pleasant. I kissed the last few drops from the end of his cock... but he insisted that now it was my turn to piss directly into his mouth, which he seemed to enjoy, and - to be honest, I found it very difficult to perform. He was willing me on, he was the instigator. He was sitting nude in the bathtub with his mouth gaping open, his hands on the cheeks of my bare bottom drawing me in as I was standing over him, straddling him... but I just couldn't piss! I tried to, and tried so hard, it was as though there was some psychological inhibition holding me back. We were both giggling, he was holding my cock, pointing and directing it. We always seemed to be laughing and sniggering together over some dirty little shared obscenity. Then there was a trickle. And then I was finally able to give him the urine-flow he wanted. Although - again, it was a one-off game that we never repeated. Sex is a wonderland of sensation, there to be enjoyed, without guilt or regret.

We also cross-dress together before nights out in the Gay Village. With a 'I'll varnish your toenails bright pink, and then you can paint mine. I can try on your panties and you can try mine,' posing in front of the mirror inviting critique, pouting and preening for each other's benefit. He said 'I'd love to tease your cute little panties down using only my teeth... Sissy's have all the best mischievous fun. Such a sexy tease... We can kiss each others clit's, and tie pink ribbons around them...' He said 'do you like elastic-top pull-up tights? I like wearing them. I have a pair with little ribbons around the top. You can wear them even while you're being fucked in the bottom, as an extra turn-on!'

I call him Philomena, he calls me Tristesse. He said 'you know something, my cock-sucking friend...? We make such a dizzy couple out hunting alpha cock together. It's always good to have a sissy friend there to tell you when you have dribbles of cum in your hair after a furtive toilet encounter...'

We joke outrageously. I greet him 'Hello sexy, may I suck your cock today?' He flounces 'you gotta stand in line, Tris... There are three guys here already wanting to suck my cock...' theatrically indicating the otherwise empty room, 'I do believe in fair shares for all!'

I pout, playing-acting along with it 'I will suck their cocks as well, I want my turn to have yours.' I learn how to flounce from Phil. Every time I kneel down in my Sissy lingerie to suck a new cock I say a silent prayer of thanks to Phil.

I fully support female empowerment and Feminism. Because that means that us faggots get to wear the pretty underclothes, and we can do all that simpering submissive stuff that liberated females no longer feel the need to do. I love to crouch there in all my flimsies and get my mouth well-fucked. It's what nature intended. It's what my throat was designed to do. I simply adore to do all those dirty little things that the married guy's wife won't do for him. It's a win-win situation. There's no downside to that equation...

I guess that both me and Phil were waiting to meet our respective Mr Rights, but we were determined to fuck each other's brains out while we waited. We even had a foursome with two other guys on one occasion. I'll tell you about that evening later.

Me and Phil would create teasing fantasies together, he'd say 'if we were two young rent-boys living together, I guess you'd cater to the sophisticated older clientele while I'd do the down-market rough-trade blowjobs, and we'd snigger to each other in conspiratorial giggles as we confide to each other all the intimate details of our encounters. We could shower together afterwards.' And I'd say 'I'm sure there are some generous gentlemen who would even enjoy seeing us being naked together, and we could sixty-nine for their benefit, as they watch. I would probably cum first... and when I do - can I ask you this? would you be offended? when I cum I could spurt my spunk directly onto your cock, then you can lift your cock back up into my mouth and I can first suck you clean, then swallow your load when you're ready to cum. I'm sure our audience would love to see that...'

I enjoyed the idea of me and Phil living and working together. Because when we have no 'serious' situations... we just entertain each other! lying within the warmth of each other's bodies, relating our stories, comforting each other when we need to... cradled in each other's body-warmth, me slowly jerking him off, watching him cum, watching him crying out and arching his back as the pleasure flows through him, then holding his cock afterwards. That's such a beautiful image. I'm choking up just with yearning for it. I loved for him to jack me off in that same way, so we got to lick our fingers clean afterwards and share delicious cum. There was such a sensual sense of oneness between us two horny boys.

-- 0 --

What is this thing called 'normal' anyway? It is such an overrated concept. Normal should be whatever feels good, as long as it's not hurting anyone else. We should be proud to be what we are. We should have that inner confidence. Even when I was with Phil, my older friend Malcolm would take me down to the Canal Street area of Manchester - what they call the 'Gay Village', where there are a number of discreet meeting places and Bars for all manner of beautifully outrageous people. The night hums with energy, it dances with the rhythms of enticing music from welcoming hostelries, the lights reflect and quiver in the shimmers of water. I was quiet and reserved, always embarrassed and tongue-tied, but at the same time, fascinated and beguiled by it all. Malcolm would meet friends and talk about sophisticated things, books and artists and mutual friends in conversations that I was never 'worldly' enough to participate in.

Malcolm called me a 'sloppy cock-sucker', and I wasn't sure what he meant. We were sitting in a Village wine-bar. I was a little bored and impatient. Malcolm - older than me by fifteen years, was talking to his friend, around the same age. The three of us sitting around the same table. I'd been introduced, but I wasn't really interested in their conversation so I kind-of switch off. Until I realized what he was saying. Malcolm was indicating me, and calling me a 'sloppy cock-sucker'. His friend was smiling with obvious interest, sizing me up.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Couldn't believe he was saying these things. And what did he mean... a 'sloppy cock-sucker'?

When I squirm and look embarrassed he laughs, not unkindly. 'Tristan produces a lot of saliva' he explains, 'when he's excited, when he's really getting into sucking that cock in his mouth, he salivates, like he's hungry for it, he literally drools for it, so that spit dribbles down his chin...'

I'm still not sure if he's ridiculing, or complimenting me. I know what he's saying is true, but is that a good thing or a bad thing? I've sucked his cock a lot. The taste of spunk has never bothered me. There's not really that much taste anyway, it's more the consistency than the taste. Unless the guy has been eating hot and spicy, then you get the spicy bonus too. From the first time I swallowed, with my long-ago school-friend John, swallowing jism just seemed the natural and right thing to do, the pleasure of feeling that orgasm happen in my mouth far outweighs whatever imaginary negative aspects there are to it. I fear that once you've sucked cock and discovered what it feels like to have a man cum in your mouth, there's just no going back. You're hooked. Might as well accept it, and celebrate your destiny as a Sissy Cock-Sucker.

I did. Many cocks ago... I guess I'm just hopelessly addicted to oral. And quite content to be that way. Malcolm had a deliciously suckable cock, I sucked it every chance I got. I was hoping against hope that I'd get to suck it today, once this interminable conversation is done and we get back to his car. I'm aching for it. And yet here he is, casually describing my blow-job technique to this third party, this stranger?

'Does he swallow?' says the friend. Then, to me, 'do you swallow, Tristan?'

What to say? How to respond? Brazen it out, smile and nod? Flutter my eyelashes coyly? Will he expect a practical demonstration? Is that what Malcolm's angling for, a three-way? 'A boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do' I say, vamping with what I hope is a coquettish lisp.

Later, after we've said goodbye to the friend, we arrive at Malcolm's car which is parked in the multistory. And - of course, once we are inside, he hefts his big cock out and I gratefully crouch down to suck him off. Noting yes... quite messily, slurping and slobbering. And when he cums - some time later, he holds his cock in such a way that he shoots long white strands of spunk all over my nose and chin, dribbling over my lips and teeth. God! it feels so incredibly good. In a bleary besotted haze I kiss and lick at the messy cock-head so that strands of his spunk dribble over my tongue, running with my saliva and spit-bubbles. It's at that moment I realize he has his phone out, and he's filming me. I deliberately sink his cum-messy cock back into my mouth and suck it clean greedily, no longer caring, tasting his spunk, lapping it and swallowing down. Yes... messy. No denying it now. Let him watch as I adore drinking everything his cock can give me. Squeezing the cock-head gently between my teeth until the last oozing beads of spunk leak out onto my ravenous tongue. More... give me more. Later I think yes, he's going to show that clip to the friend in the Wine-bar. The absolute proof that I'm a sloppy cock-sucker. The undeniable evidence that he has a cock-sucking slut at his beck and call. And you know something... I no longer care. Let him show his friends. I'm smiling and licking my lips...

There are clubs in the Village where Drag Queens sing Billie Holiday torch songs with aching sincerity. And a burlesque fan dancer who - when 'her' fan slips, you catch a teasing glimpse of a little penis and testicles decorated with a pink tassel! The club was called the 'Speke-Easy', because the man who owns it came from the Speke area of Liverpool, and he enjoyed the pun. There was a tiny cramped dressing room behind the small stage where I watch the performers putting on their costumes. I was mesmerised. They would tease me, and sometimes help me by touching up my own make-up. Malcolm once introduced me to a Drag Queen as 'Deep-Throat Boy', which made me colour up. There was one Drag Queen who looked a little like Divine, the Andy Warhol star, 'she' just took me aside and told me 'you're such a fortunate gurl to have a man like Malcolm. All the gurls here would just love to suck on that big cum-gusher of his!'

I knew how charismatic he was, but hearing that just motivated me even more to ensure I satisfied his every sexual need. It was a wonderful time, and a valuable period of my life. Some of those cross-dressers are incredibly brave, defying derision and actual physical abuse in order to be what they are. They deserve our respect and admiration. I do believe that we are here on this planet to help, support and encourage each other. Nothing is of greater value than reaching out to another human being in acceptance and love. I have so much to feel grateful and thankful to Malcolm for. He opened me up to the full potential of being my kinky self, and I've lived that out to the full ever since.

-- 0 --

I was never a Rent Boy, I want to make that clear. I've never ever done it on a cash basis... but, if an older gentleman chooses to reward me for my giving him a blowjob with a little gift or a non-returnable 'loan' then I was always perfectly amenable to their generosity. And I did get quite a lot of delightful gifts. Around the time I was rooming with Phil, I had several encounters with older gentlemen who gave me 'gifts' to show their appreciation, or cover my 'expenses' in order for me to travel to whatever hotel room they'd arranged to stay over in. After all, I had to survive on a day-to-day basis, and those 'gifts' help me out.

There's always a lot of uncertainty when it comes to meeting a new guy. A nervousness about what they want and about what you want. Some anticipations and trepidations, fumbling for this and that. When it's a clear-cut commercial transaction, even when it's on an unspoken basis, the roles are already defined. You are there to suck his cock. He is there to get his cock sucked. You both know and understand that. If there's more, that's fine. If not, that's fine too. A lot of wives get so hung up on planning the colour-scheme for the front-room, doing their hair, and sorting matching handbags that they forget to be the bedroom slut. She's got her joint bank-account credit card, joint-deeds on the property, and she's 'mid-life', it's not dignified for her to suck cock. I think this is a far-from uncommon situation. She's had her hair done. She says 'wait until the end of the TV-soap. Wait until bedtime with the lights out.'

But guys have their needs. And a Girly-boy knows how to deal with that achingly unsatisfied hard-on in their pants. That's why they get dirty little secrets, like me and Phil...! I was never out to break up anyone's marriage. I was never a threat. But dalliances are lovely when they work, and - I must admit, I enjoyed married men spunking-off in my mouth. Their wives live in blissful ignorance of their devious infidelity. Because it's a boy they happen to be mouth-fucking, the men don't even consider it adultery, it's just recreational sex. A form of therapeutic relief. They go home happy. There's simply no downside to that. I think that those older married 'friend's appreciated me, and I return their respect.

With Phil... I admit, there was a certain jealousy when we were both competing for the attention of the same gentleman. I had an advantage when it comes to those who prefer young, straight-looking boys. I was never rough trade. I was the 'nice boy' gone naughty, who just enjoys dirty sex. I wore my hair androgynously long. Phil could be more 'tarty'. Older gentlemen were usually fine with that. Although not every situation turns out well, most encounters are surprisingly pleasurable. One thing that surprised me was how gentle many if the men are. Part if that was that I was so much younger and projected a kind of sullied-innocence. Yes, I was young, but never really innocent. I was always polite and respectful. But it's what they like in a younger boy. In a sexual situation we are one remove from reality, in a kind of game-playing mode, acting out roles to our mutual pleasure.

In such a perverse scenario, there should always be a degree of fear and trepidation. Skin-crawling with erotic arousal. Some uncertainty when you first undress for him... an urge to put my hands over my groin, self-conscious about my lazy growing erection, but I fight the impulse, keep my hands at my sides, let him look, laying myself open and vulnerable. You wonder... is my cock big enough? Will he laugh and mock me? Can I live up to his expectations of me? What will he expect me to do...? Half-terrified he'll expect me to suck his cock. Even more terrified that he won't allow me to suck his cock...

When I'm having sex with a man I become submissive and obedient, doing that 'Yes sir' 'Thank you, sir' thing... even though it's not my natural demeanor at all, but it is the appropriate persona to adopt when sucking his cock. I love sex with older guys. More specifically, I love to be sexually dominated by older guys. Once that older guy has made the decision he's going to fuck my throat, it's bliss just to surrender to that control and gratefully orally worship that exquisite cock which is bringing me so much joy and cummy pleasure. Even if I pretend reluctance, which only makes him more rough and forceful, it only enhances my sense of total submission to his alpha-male power. And I love it when my mouth is full of his throbbing cock and he starts calling me a 'faggot slut' or a 'dirty cock-sucking bitch'. It's such a turn-on to be used in that way. We become our own fantasy creation, and it's so liberating to be that way. We both understand and appreciate those roles. And afterwards we revert back to our normal selves.

I just had the one real experience of licking pussy. There was one older married guy I'd met for sex on a number of occasions. He was not particularly ideal... but he was generous, and that was a compromise I was prepared to accept. On the last time I met him, at a hotel in Manchester, I was unsettled to discover that he was there with his wife. He told me how she'd discovered that he was having sex during his city-trips, and he'd been forced to confess that - first, he was only getting oral sex, and second, that it was from a younger guy. Rather than being shocked or angry, she was intrigued, and wanted to watch.