Empty House Full Mouth

I went to college in the Bible Belt, back when it could still be quite dangerous to be openly gay, bi, or anything but totally straight. I was mostly straight, but had enjoyed a few experiences with guys. Although far from being some macho jock, I still wasn't one to set off anyone's "gaydar".

I met Karl in the first few days of school. I had taken a "gap year", so he was year ahead of me, but the same age. We worked together at the college radio station, and bonded over our arcane knowledge and deep love of music, and it was obvious we'd be lifelong friends. Soon, we were taking late-night walks after the station shut down, drinking beer and smoking pot.

We would go on what we called "adventures". His mother owned the largest real estate agency in the area, so he had the codes to the lock boxes of all the houses for sale in town. Late at night, we'd go into empty houses and drink beer. We had to be fairly quiet, and no flashlights, or the neighbors might call the cops. But sneaking around in the dark was what made it fun.

Our friendship, and conversations, were opening up, so one night, sitting on a lush carpeted staircase, with only the streetlights for illumination, we started swapping sex stories. I asked who gave him his best blowjob. He hesitated for an uncomfortably long time.

"It was a guy, wasn't it?" I asked.

"How did you know?"

I told him it was a "birds of a feather" thing. There was something about him, and as soon as we met, I knew his door swings both ways. He said he had the opposite feeling about me.

We discussed how most guys have their first experience with another guy, usually jerking it with their best bud over a stolen Playboy. We began telling each other our sexual histories, and I explained that besides five women, I had, by that time, gone down on a total of four guys, and sucked each multiple times. I could see he didn't expect that.

"I wouldn't have thought... I mean, everybody... but you've really been learning how to driving stick..."

"Yeah, like you said, it started by jerking with my best friend, but the fantasy of sucking him off was too much to ignore, and he was into it, so I tried it once, and really liked it. After that, if an opportunity showed up, well, why not? I think the taboo aspect of it is a big part of what turns me on."

"And a lot more taboo down here than where you're from," he said.

"Yeah, but you can't tell me these good ole boys out here, hunting, camping? I bet there's a lot of guys round here, knocking back a few beers in a fishing boat, just two good buddies, then somebody says 'let's try it once', and one of the two finds out how hot it is to suck a cock. That's how it happened with me. But of course, you've got to hide it a lot more here. Bury it deep, at least till the fellas are alone n the woods again."

"Sorry, you just seem more like the one who would be getting head, not the one on his knees giving."

"A lot of people think that way, like giving head is weak or subservient. You've been with guys. Is that how you feel when you go downtown? Submissive?"

"Well... Kinda, yeah."

"That's too bad. I'm nobody's sub. For me, it's always been about how much it turned me on, not about serving him. Sure, the guy is getting off with what I'm doing, but I'm doing it for me. I'm never there thinking 'am I doing it right, is he enjoying it'. I'm too caught up in how it's pleasing me.

"From that first time, the first second I opened my mouth, what it felt like on my lips and tongue... If it didn't turn me on, I wouldn't have done it again. Hell, I probably wouldn't have finished what I was doing. See, when I go down on a woman, it's all about driving her crazy. I love to lick pussy because it turns me on to turn her on, to make her squirm, make her cum. I love that.

"But I'm not into guys that way; their pleasure doesn't excite me like that. I suck cock 'cause I enjoy it. The fact that a guy is attached to it, I really don't think of it much, even when I'm doing it.

"And the fact that I'm in charge, that I can make him cum fast or make it last, that's my choice, I'm the one in control. However long I want to keep going, it's for my excitement. And he better mind his manners and appreciate what he's getting; no pushing my head calling me a fag, or stupid shit like that. I'll nut tap him and drop him quick.

"No wonder women don't want to give blowjobs, with guys pulling macho crap like forcing her head down, calling them sluts and whores. You've got to be pretty dumb not to realize that when your dick is in someone else's mouth, you are not the one with the power in that situation. But the thing is, if a guy tries to get grabby, feeling all tough and trying to force them to do this or that... What he doesn't realize is, it would be ten times better if he would just sit back and enjoy the sensation. If he'd just relax and let them practice, maybe they'd start to really get into it, too, and everyone wins."

"I think that's your Master's thesis there: The Blowjob Philosopher," he said with a smile.

"I tell you what, Karl, if you would put some thought into blowjobs, as a shared understanding, you'd enjoy them a lot more. On both sides. Let me show you."

With that, I slid down a couple of the soft, padded stairs and turned to face him. On my knees now, facing him, my head was about crotch height, and I worked quickly. When his belt and jeans were unfastened, with more determination than grace or skill, I worked at pulling them down.

Although caught by surprise, Karl was not about to fight it, and raised his hips to help, so that, in short order, his jeans and boxers crumpled at his ankles. He quickly, if clumsily, finished the job by kicking off his shoes and the pants followed. Then he spread his legs, knees fully exposing himself and inviting me to do as I wished.

He had every reason to be proud, as it stood straight as a flagpole, quite literally pointing to his chin as he sat there. Just looking at a nice hard cock is so erotic. I'm not talking about ridiculously large porn-peens, but don't most people, regardless of orientation, look at a nice, long, girthy, hard-as-iron cock and feel sexy on a very primal level?

This one turned me on, specifically, because I knew, in just a minute when I would take his shaft in my hand, there would plenty still showing higher than my fist could go. There would still be plenty to kiss, lick, and otherwise tease. But first...

I had sucked cocks before. I wanted this to be special.

He spread his legs wide, but I purposely ignored that hard cock. It couldn't be happier if it were jumping up and down, shouting 'hello'. And although I enjoyed the view, it could wait a minute before it got any attention from me.

Instead, I went down and started licking his balls. Gently, tenderly, I wanted my tongue on every inch of that smooth sack. Normally, I'd cradle the balls in one hand, but only once before had I tried licking them, and even then, it was quick and without much regard. It was immediately evident that this soft, shaved skin was worth savoring, and my tongue was enjoying the play.

I was surprised at such soft texture, and explored further, taking one nut in my mouth, then the other, and though I considered both at once, the truth is, my boy had some big balls, and my jaw had serious questions about the logistics of getting them both in. I began rapidly flicking my tongue as I worked my way up the underside of the shaft, all the way up to the head.

I leaned back a bit, to take in the entire visual. My left hand came up to take over "ball duty", and as I grasped his very hard, very sexy cock, was pleasantly surprised to find it had just a slight upward banana curve to it that made me smile. For some reason it added just an extra naughty thrill to this whole scene. I was now I was ready to dive in.

Leaning forward, the head, already moist with pre-cum, pressed against my pursed lips, then gradually past that gateway, and I continued down until lips touched fingers, so that his entire cock was covered in fist or mouth. The slightly-sweet, slightly-viscous taste/texture of his pre-cum was a joy. I had to suppress a smile as my own erection began imitating a crowbar, because sometimes there's simply nothing hotter than a mouth full of hard cock.

I began applying pressure, sucking him in earnest, and slowly licking, exploring, as though I had lost something valuable on the head of his cock, and only a very thorough search with my tongue could find it. This immediately started him moaning and writhing. It was far too soon for that, so I greatly eased off. He needed to be shown that I don't care about his pleasure. I'm doing this because I LOVE IT. This is about my enjoyment, and if he gets something at the end, well, fine. His breath returned to normal.

I began again; a slow, steady up-and down, with all the suction I can muster, my tongue racing over every centimeter as though it must be kept moist or it would crack. Then, again, after a few minutes, he begins to tense up, signaling that he's almost there.

I stopped completely, removing hand and mouth. He looked at me with a "what the hell" in his eyes, and I waited until he cooled down again. When I was satisfied, my hands went back to place, balls in palm, fingers pressed his taint, middle finger tracing the hole. THEN I dove back in, filling my mouth, my tongue exploring that monster encircled by my lips, slowly bobbing up and down until he's ready to cum again. And I stop. Again.

SO, This time, I sat back and just looked at it. I waited so long, he, ever so slightly, starts to deflate. But I don't let that happen. I dive back in, getting him rock hard again, wanting this hard cock in my mouth for hours, days. It's all about how much I'm loving it. I do this over and over, over and over again, playing his excitement like a roller coaster.

Meanwhile, I'm slowly stroking my own cock with my right hand. He was gearing up to cum again, but this time, I'm ready to cum, too, so I let him. NO, I don't "let him", I MADE him cum. In my mouth. His stomach muscles spasmed, and it was like watching massive earthquakes, recreated on a map, in real time. And as he came, so did I, with a force I'd forgotten possible. It had been a few months since I'd been with someone else, and my body agreed: I'd been jacking off alone for too long.

I toyed with the yogurt-like texture of his cum, and happily swallowed his load. I sat back, and, looking him in the eye, licked my own cum from my fingers, as he grinned and shook his head in disbelief.

From tasting my own over the years, I recognize someone who eats a lot of fruit, especially citrus, like pineapple, which makes the cum sweet. And now I've enjoyed both his and mine, taste buds enjoying the salty-sweet taste. I leaned in again, sucking his softening cock as I search for any last drop left behind. I don't release him completely until he has deflated like a balloon, and look up to see an almost manic smile on his face.

For years, after that night, when guys would get together, and someone would ask what the best blowjob they ever had was, I would think of this, one I gave, not got, and only a mischievous grin to explain.