Chapter 2. "Growing Accustomed to the Taste"
Throughout life we have experiences that fundamentally change us. Such was my first night in the car with Carlos, the 40-year-old Latino cook at the diner I worked at. In an abandoned parking lot I became somebody who had willingly sucked another man's cock.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of the doorbell downstairs. "Well, hello there, Danny," I heard my mother say. I knew my best friend would be extremely curious to know about that car ride. I quickly threw on clothes and called him upstairs. As soon as we closed my bedroom door, he asked: "What happened? What did Carlos do?"
Since Carlos was stern and religious it was easy to come up with a story. "You should have heard him. He kept telling me how God punishes the wicked and how what I did with you was one of God's most wicked sins. I thought he would never shut up. He said if I did it again he would definitely tell my parents. He even gave me some Christian pamphlets but I threw them away. I didn't even look at them."
Danny had no reason to not believe me. But he was worried. "We should probably cool it with the .. you know." (As usual he didn't articulate the 'playing around' we did with each other.) "Don't you think?"
I nodded. "At least for a while, yeah, maybe." Although I agreed with him, I was disappointed that we were putting 'playing around' on hold.
***
After that first night I thought I was getting scheduling different shifts than Danny, but other than that there was no indication that anything had changed. I wondered if my parking lot encounter with Carlos had been a one-off occurrence. But the following Saturday Carlos came in the back and told me he would again drive me home. This time I knew what was in store for me. Once again he drove in silence while I stared out the window. Once again he parked in the parking lot o that abandoned factory. Once again he killed the ignition and pushed his seat back. And once again I undid my seat belt and reached into his lap.
This should have felt strange, but somehow the act felt natural. After he unzipped his pants I took hold of his firm penis and stroked it to full erection. I spit on the tip and used my saliva for lubrication. I kept my hand wrapped around him, and when the spit dried up I worked up another mouthful of saliva and let it slowly drop down onto his cock. Then, without prompting, I lowered my mouth and began licking and sucking. At first I was lost in the moment, but soon my body grew uncomfortable from my contorted position.
I also grew anxious knowing that he was going to cum in my mouth. Although I thought I was ready for it I really wasn't. My mouth got the first jet of hot sticky semen and while I fantasized about swallowing all his cum, I couldn't. At least I didn't jerk away from him; the back of his hand holding my head and my own desire to not pull away kept me remaining in his lap. But I gagged and coughed, and when I opened my lips cum flooded out and onto his cock and groin.
He cursed at the mess - I surmised he didn't want his wife seeing his stained clothes - and I sat up. Again I stuck my head out the window to spit out most, but not all, of his semen. What remained I tasted, and what I discovered was that it wasn't terrible.
"Much better this time," Carlos told me as he handed me tissues to wipe my face. Then he extracted tissues for himself and proceeded to wipe up the mess between his legs. "And don't worry, you'll grow accustomed to the taste."
So, he had more plans for me. I just nodded in silence, and fixed my own erection which was straining against my pants.
***
