Cult Of Cock

Last night's boy was a good catch with a serious potential. I first saw him standing apprehensively in my doorway. Wearing blue jeans, a sweater and tennis shoes, he was just your typical next door teenage boy. His hair was curly and reddish, and he had a narrow face with slightly protruded ears, giving him the ethereal aspect of an elf. He definitely didn't look more than the 18 years old he claimed to be.

Although at 53 myself, I was almost three times his age. But he had been the one who had reached out to me online. Safely protected behind his screen, he had taunted me with obscene language, and had insisted so much that I finally accepted to give him an audition. I doubted he was ripe enough for to play against me though, even doubted he would show up at all. But I had misjudged him. There he was, on time, at 9.00 PM. It seemed he was indeed out to try the challenge. So I let him in.

He was staring at me with googly questioning eyes, like a rodent petrified in front of the headlights of a car. With his juvenile face and frightened glance, I assumed he was probably a virgin, although I could not be sure. Probably he had done some naughty play with his buddies in the locker rooms. But frank sex with a mature male, definitely not. I could tell he was intimidated by my sturdy body and conservative attire, and yet irresistibly attracted by the stark difference. By entering my den, he had already stepped out of time and space, away from the rules of the outside world.

The boy followed me inside the living room, bathing in the dim light of chinese style lamps and the sound of classical music. He looked around the old fashioned furniture and the bookshelves, not knowing what to do, maybe thinking it was still time to escape. But I wouldn't let him be distracted, asked him if he was ready and he nodded, although I could see the flush on his face and the gulp in his throat. It was useless to indulge in some comforting introductory talk. I didn't want to know his name, and he didn't need to know mine. I went straight to the point, and told him to take his clothes off.

While watching the boy strip, I sipped a glass of cognac. After taking out his shoes, he bashfully removed his sweater and the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath, unzipped and pulled down his jeans, his clothing items falling down on the floor one after the other. His skin was white and milky, and although he still looked somewhat frail and slender, I could tell he had good genes, and that his muscles would sculpt harmoniously given proper training. It was a matter of seconds before he was on his knees on the carpet, with nothing left than blue briefs which moulded his private parts. He looked surprised when I told him to keep his white socks on, not knowing it was one of my fetishes.

Still fully clad in my business suit with my tie on, I was standing in front of the boy at a distance, and his almost naked body looked totally vulnerable in contrast. And that was what I needed it to be. I told him to put his hands on the top of his head, like a prisoner, revealing to me the silky hair in his armpits. Little could he suspect that to me, a boy's armpit is like a preview of his crack and pubes. I felt a punch in my stomach and bells ringing in my head, and the bulge started to swell inside my pants. I could see the boy's eyes were concentrated on my crotch, torn between lust and anxiety, anticipating the carnal ceremony about to take place.

As I moved closer to him, I could well see the fear in the boy's eyes as soon as he looked back up at me. He was nervous and trembling, as a lamb brought to the altar of sacrifice. I could see his wide and sultry eyes were on the verge of tears, and I won't lie : it made my mouth water. The sight of his tender flesh brought up a lupine ferocity in me, something close to the primal instinct of a beast catching his prey. He shuddered as I lay my big palms on his smooth skin. I could feel his heart was pounding hard, and his breath was fast and heavy. I ran my hands over his back and chest, taking my time to explore his precious offered body, the warm and wet cavities which I knew my penis would eventually visit.

But beyond the apprehension, I could sense the boy longed for for the approval of a father figure. I knew I wasn't his father, even though the idea I was old enough to be made me both proud and hard. He would have yearned for me to stroke his hair or pat his shoulder, but I would not smile or give affection for the moment, only showing firm and determinate authority. I kept the stern look appropriate for serious matters. For this couldn't be more serious indeed, as I was entitled with a strong responsibility.

My role was to be the boy's mentor in sex between males, as it had been in the phallic rituals performed in the Antiquity or many tribes of the world when they were still close to nature. And nature commands that the senior partner dominates and penetrates, while the junior must yield in full confidence and acceptance of his position. By worshipping his senior's penis, the junior is put in direct communication with phallic energy, spring of all life. However repetitive, this sacred ceremony is the path to mystical ecstasy. The puritanical modern faiths could never erase the potency of ancient cults.

The firm touch of my broad palms on his juvenile body made the boy realize that I was the master, and there was no debate. He still had his hands on his head in the prisoner position, as I had prescribed to show acknowledgement of his submission. All he had to do was to surrender to lust, to the dark forces of nature that pulsated in his hormones. There was no danger, just pleasure, a pleasure so intense that it can indeed confine to pain. I felt the tension inside his body giving up confidently, and he began to let go into my hands.

Every boy is sensitive on the nipples, although to various degrees. I pressed his little nubs to test how they would react, which caused him to utter a light squeal. Feeling I was on the right path, I made him drool in my cupped hands, ointed his nipples in his own spit, then twisted and teased them between my thumbs and forefingers. They hardened instantly, and he could not restrain moaning, looking up at me with desperate eyes. I could see the shape of his boy dick hardening in his blue briefs.

The boy's smell aroused me, a blend of pungent soap, peppermint deodorant and that musky scent typical of redheads. My cock pushed so hard against my pants I thought it might break through the fabric. So it was time to free his hands and make him participate actively. I gave him instructions about what he had to do. Pull down my zipper. Unclasp my belt. As my trousers had fallen down unto my shoes, he had to pull down my pants halfway.

And there my throbbing cock was finally released from its bounds, bouncing out of the waistband, pointing at his juvenile face. It rose majestically like a sceptre, and the sight of it made me feel proud, like a king indeed. The boy looked at it in disbelief at its size and firmness, maybe wondering how it would possibly fit into his orifices. I took off my leather shoes, but kept my black socks on, as they were not in the way. What I had to get rid of was my jacket, which was becoming to warm to wear, as well as my trousers and underpants, in order to comfortably stretch my legs apart. My white shirt and my tie could still wait a little while. After all, a tie becomes a boss.

Salivating in a pavlovian reaction, the boy opened his mouth as he was probably ready to take my cock. He obviously wanted it badly, but I wouldn't let him swallow it yet. Worshipping manhood is a complex art, and I deemed it better that my pupil would start with good habits, and be introduced to more elaborate foreplay. Since my penis would end up in both his holes anyway, why rush it? He was waiting to be guided, looking up to me towering over him half clad but in full erection. I made my shaft bounce up against his face with a slapping sound, ran it against his nostrils and lips and all the way up, rubbing it through his fuzzy ginger hair.

I had him take the cock between his fingers and make it slide through his hands. It was rock hard, but ought to remain so for a while yet. I urged him to lick my shaft from underneath, like a lollipop, passing his velvet tongue over and over from the glans down to the base. I had bound my scrotum in a leather cockring in order to keep my boner stronger and longer. The little man took my balls in his palms, playing with them, weighing how heavy they were, aware of what precious juice they contained. He passed his fingers through my bushy pubes, and as I was undoing my tie, I could see the droplet of precum that had oozed out of my tip.

As I unbuttoned my shirt, the boy was made to continue his delicate licking down to the soft spot between my balls and my thighs, and the tickling felt exquisite. His nostrils were huffing the warmth that exuded out of my crotch, basking in the acrid fragrance, and I knew my pheromones were filling his lungs all the way up to his brain. Impregnating him with my natural odor was like an animal way of marking him as the territory of my alpha presence. His face was flushing and he was panting heavily. Although my cock had not touched any of his holes yet, he was already completely overwhelmed by my manhood.

I noticed the boy's dick was impossibly tight in his pants, so I allowed him to pull them down. Off went the little blue briefs, now useless as his unprotected crotch would now be mine to possess. His stiff willy was pointing upwards, and I discovered his little rosy nuts covered with silky pubes, like two ripe grapes about to be taken from the vine. I urged him to let his dick dangle in the air in order to test its firmness. He would have no use of it, but I needed to check his erection to make sure his lust for me was not fake. I had him turn around to take a look at his white buttocks, and the sight of his crack gave me another angry pang rising from by balls up to my stomach.

As I had taken out my tank top, I was just as stark naked as he was. All we had left were our socks, black for me and white for him, as though we were about to play a chess game. He stared hypnotized at my hairy nakedness. It must have been the first time in his life that the young lad could see a man in his fifties in the nude, and horny as a bull. It is indeed a privilege of mature males to afford being balding or bellied as long as they are in full control of their sexual energy.

All of a sudden, I gave a smack across his little nerdy face. The boy looked disoriented and scared, staring with googly eyes again, and that was precisely what I wanted to see. I needed to test his total submission to cock. In order to soothe him after the roughness, I inserted my thumb in his mouth which he sucked on avidly. Good boy. I knew it was hard, but taking my manhood inside was an honor that had to be earned and deserved. On his knees with his mouth open and waiting, he looked exactly like a catholic youth ready to receive the communion wafer. That was indeed an appropriate position of worship. As for me, I was standing up and in charge.

I grabbed his neck, and guided the boy's head to my crotch to give him his first full taste of my flesh. He was visibly not an expert, and I had to warn him to watch his teeth. He opened wider, his lips tightly wrapped around my shaft plunging all the way down his warm wet mouth. I maintained my head on his neck to set the pace and let go after a few seconds. He continued to bob his head dutifully back and forth, servicing me with slurpy sounds.

I had to urge the boy to look up at me while he was working on my tool. I pinched his nipples again, which made him produce unarticulated groans, as his mouth was full of my flesh. His salivary glands and his tongue were doing a perfect job savoring his treat. As my cock was melting inside him, I complimented him about his eagerness. And then, as I made him use his hands to caress my balls, I could feel the pleasure irradiating to my belly and down to my ass.

I pulled out, and my cock head was glistening with his spit. I commanded the boy to put his hands back on his head in the prisoner position. I always needed to be reminded of his total acceptance and commitment. It was now my turn to do the job, and I pushed my shaft back home between his lips, fucking his face. He was groaning and drooling, his boy dick up in the air, unable to make any move but swallowing my manhood to the hilt. I thrusted my inches deeper, pushing his lips further apart. I knew he could taste my sperm, as I felt precum seeping out.

Shooting my load in his mouth without any warning, or splashing it all over his face would have been the easy option if I had not managed to hold back. But I wanted very bad to see him ejaculate before I did, and preferred sodomizing him anyway. I pulled out again and ordered him to lay down on the carpet. I stepped on his face, and commanded him to sniff my black socks, as I wanted his lust for manhood to be absolute, shattering all barriers of modesty. But he had definitely surrendered quite a while before, and I'm sure he would have licked my asshole if I had required him to do so.

I ordered the boy to stand up, and I took him inside my mighty arms to reward him for his dedication. It was the first time that we experienced full body contact. The feeling of his smooth skin against my hairy chest was intense, and our dicks were touching. He massaged my buttocks, while I was taking control of his mouth with my tongue, then licking his tender white neck and biting the tip of his odd elfic protruded ears. He sighed, almost sobbing, dumbfounded by the full treatment he was receiving from a gentleman three times his age. I knew it was time to take the baby to bed.

We made a stop in the kitchen, so that he could rest a bit and recover his breath before the second round. He was offered a glass of fresh water, and I passed a kerchief on his sweaty brow. Then the boy was guided to the guest bedroom. I never sleep in the bed there, as the mattress is somewhat old and squeaky, and solely use it for other purposes. We would finish up with the most intense : his ass. A boy's asshole is his most private parts, and his major sex organ as far as I'm concerned.

I placed my guest down on all fours to get a full display of his bottom. His buttocks were nicely plump and firm, looking like two ripe peaches served on a plate, ready to be savored. I urged him to spread them out, getting a full view of his little pink rosebud surrounded by frizzled reddish hair. The view of a boy's anus is the most potent sexual stimulation to me. Never mind if my cock had somewhat faltered when we were relaxing in the kitchen, there it rose up fully again within a few seconds.

It was necessary to inquire if the boy had any experience with his butt. He confessed that he had used toys before, but never received a proper virile member, and got wary it might hurt. The fact that he was technically a virgin aroused me even more, and I spoke to him on a benevolent but determinate tone, telling him to trust my experience. I revealed to him that I was a physician, which seemed to impress and reassure him, and my diagnosis was I was certain it would be easier than he thought. I would be make sure he felt alright, and from what he already knew about my sexual power, he would not regret it.

I climbed on the bed behind him, ran my dick up and down the crack of his buttocks, and tapped it against them, then used my cockhead to tease his quivering hole. His asshole was now in close sight, and I could study its anatomy. I could see his hole twitch in reaction to my teasing, which was a good sign. I gave a few soft taps on each side which made him whimper and clench in a reflex. I ordered him to remain stretched, and went harder. My hand had left red marks on his firm white buttocks. Then I took a bottle of lube, and inserted my forefinger inside. The hole was pleasantly tight indeed, but gave way, so then came a second finger. And then a third one. Which was about enough to make room for my penis.

I pumped out some more liquid from the bottle of lube, and spread it on his crack which became glistening and wet within seconds. Then I had him lay down on his back in order to watch his eyes while I would penetrate his inside, and rested his head on a pillow. I lifted his legs up in the air, and pressed my cockhead onto his pucker. I took a deep breath as I pushed slowly inside. I gave him with a stern and determinate glance, to which he responded with a wary look, and as my face was close to him, I could realize how young he was. Young enough to be my son, barely out of teenage, and yet old enough to be fucked.

I ordered him to relax his muscles, and he sucked me in, his inners steadily giving way to my manhood. I pushed in slowly deeper, my tool stretching his rectum all the way up. I caught his ankles between my hands like a wheelbarrow, plowing him dutifully, inhaling the young male scent from his white socks. I watched down between his legs, and saw my shaft disappear between his white buttocks, every inch now gliding inside his tight wet orifice, which gave a farting sound. I kept the pace slow but steady, undulating with my buttocks as my cock dived in and out, and judging by the sound of his moans, it seemed what the boy was feeling was halfway between pain and pleasure.

I could now fasten the pace, and mounted him as though I was riding a horse. His boypussy had become slick and slimy, not offering any resistance as my member went back and forth. But his dick had shriveled since the blowjob, and I had to stimulate it with my hands so that it would get stiff again. When it appeared risen, I tested its firmness again by making it bounce against his belly button. The air in the room had become stuffy with the odor of sweat and testosterone, and reverberated with the sounds of our copulation. The squeaks of the mattress, the slapping of my balls on his loins and the boy's short nasal moans were all like music to my ears.

I kept his eyes focused in his, because I wanted the penetration to be both physical and mental. He didn't try to look away, and his expression became aggressive and primal as he showed me his teeth. He was fondling my buttocks and balls with his hands, then ran them through my hairy chest as though he wanted to incorporate my superior masculinity. As his young dick was now fully erect, I thrusted my hips roughly onto his hole, slamming the tip of my cock against his youthful prostate. He had never experienced the sensation before,and started to moan unabashedly. My balls got full of seed, but my goal was to make him cum first, not so much out of altruism as to give me the physical proof of my sexual power upon him.

I urged him to beat off, and the tip of his cock glistened with nectar. His hormones were pulsating and his youthful boy fluids about to flow. I insisted firmly that he let it all out, as it seemed he somewhat struggled against his upcoming orgasm instead of letting go. I stimulated him by giving small taps on his nuts, and when I felt his sphincter muscles contracting and getting spastic, I knew he was on the edge. He gave me a look of agony, as his sap gushed out in several generous blasts on his tummy. He was weeping tears of pleasure, and his moans were so long and shrill that they echoed all the way down through my spine.

I could not hold it much longer. As my balls readied to unleash my load and flood him with my sperm, claiming him on a biological level, the feeling of control spread throughout my body. I pounded his hole with rough short angry thrusts, uttering primitive grunts. I felt completely dominant, virile and strong like a barbarian warrior entering a city after a long siege. When I pulled out, I could see the rosy pucker twitch, drenched in my white cream, gushing it out in small spastic moves. It was satisfying to notice I was still fit enough to fulfil my mentor role in a sporty way, which the grateful eyes of my young partner would only confirm.