If I Had the Balls

Fuck it.

Yielding to the constant pressure from his hand on the back of hand my head, the soft hardness of his tip laid upon my lips glossing them with the already present drop of precum. My tongue slipped past the confines of my mouth tasting the first ever drops of man. Sliding my tongue underneath, I gave silent permission for his body to enter mine for the first time ever allowing another man's masculinity to enter my hesitant mouth.

I pulled my head back, not from disgust nor trepidation for this act, but to allow my lips to explore what my eyes could see. He assented his manual pressure on my head while maintaining constant contact letting me subconsciously know of his charge over me. My lips and tongue explored every inch of his shaft, feeling the texture and taste of the skin wrapped tightly over the veins of his erection. I licked and kissed and wetted every portion of him, allowing myself to give in to the subservience of the situation.

I'd already crossed the line. I had already jumped both feet forward into something that I never thought I would do, why not explore it? There was no turning back at this point.

My chin brushed his weighted sack as I explored down the length of his shaft. His precum glazed every so often across my face as his head bobbed across my forehead and cheek and nose. As my mouth explored the top, his lubrication splayed its way across my throat and chest.

I pulled back, sitting on my laurels evaluating the next step of my quasi-submission; I stared at the tip of the iceberg, the point of no return, the tip of his hard, throbbing, bobbing cock while feeling his growing pressure on the back of my head urging me, telling me to resume and I succumbed. I opened my mouth and allowed the fullness of another man to be taken in. I let him slip past my lips, past my teeth, and slide along my tongue as far back as I could take him (which wasn't far). I swirled my tongue around the head as much as I could; I allowed the warmth of my mouth and the building of my unexpected salivation to wet and lubricate and mix with his excretions. I plied every trick that I have ever had worked on me as I bobbed and tasted another man.

He controlled the pace. He controlled how slowly or how quickly he entered my throat.

I was erect. I was hard. I had a hard, granite phallus attempting to force its way through my jeans. I couldn't believe what I was doing. The taboo nature of not only having this stranger's cock working its way in and out of my throat while I submissively kneeled their between his legs, but I was rock hard. Another man was using my face to get off and here I was excited yet constrained by my own clothing unable to pleasure myself.

The situation was intoxicatingly perfect in its own mind-blowingly frustrating way.

Slowly, yet forcefully his cock was exploring the depths of my mouth, while I stared up into his face and consciously allowed him to use me. With both hands placed firmly on the back of my head, he began force himself further and further down my steadily adjusting throat. Tears began to form in my eyes, not from pain nor embarrassment, simply from this henceforth inexperienced sensation. I could taste the sweet saltiness of his precum preparing the back of my tongue and throat for more of him to enter me.

Fuck, I was horny. I reached down to play with myself and he stopped with his cock buried deep in my throat.

"You came here for me," he said, "you can take care of yourself after you leave. If your hands are bored, I have two full balls you can fondle."

"Mmph." I mumbled through my first mouthful of dick and tearing eyes.

I reached up with one hand and began to caress and massage his cum-filled balls as they lay mere inches from of my chin whilst he continued to use my mouth to massage his hard shaft.

He pulled everything from my mouth accept the head. I slithered and twirled my tongue around every inch left. I sucked and tasted every drop of precum as my fingers worked to massage as much of it into my mouth as I could. And then he started again, more forcefully and quicker this time, using my throat to jack him off.

"You know, you really aren't all that good at this, but I think if you were to come over a few more times and practice, you might become semi-decent," he said.

What the fuck? I was trying my hardest, I was using every trick I could think of, I was trying to mimic every oral movement I had ever enjoy in the past and here he is telling me I'm not that good?! My jaw was aching and tears began to run freely as I began to force him down my throat. I wanted every inch of his throbbing member down my throat. I would show him! I would show him that I could suck a dick. 'Not that good' my ass. This motherfucker was going to blow every last drop of cum he had saved up if I had anything to say about it.

I renewed my vigorous massage of his weighted balls, which he apparently liked because it became a competition almost on who could force me down further and faster on his cock.

His breathing increased.

My gagging increased.

His pace increased.

My tears flowed freely.

He stood up from his chair without slowing the pace of my throat being berated by his piston. I swallowed and salivated and sucked and massaged his shaft with my tongue and then he changed position of his hands placing one on my forehead as he pulled himself from me with the tip barely grazing my lips and outstretched tongue. His other hand began to furiously work himself to climax.

This man was about to finish ... I was about to take his load in my mouth. Craziest of all: I was kneeling in front of him excited both anatomically and emotionally because I got him to this point. What was wrong with me?

The first shot hit me just above the mouth, but the rest landed on my awaiting tongue and chin and I slurped it all up when he finally finished and plopped back into his chair.

I swallowed his cum. Kneeling there on the floor in front of this mostly naked man whose name I didn't even know, I swallowed his cum.

"I could use another beer."

Without saying a word as I processed everything, every minute detail of what had just transpired, I got up and got him a beer. I came back and handed him the opened beer

"If you want more practice, which you desperately need, there is a notepad beside the door, leave your number and I might call you over sometime. Drive safe."

That's it? I just let this guy fuck my face ... and that's it? I grabbed my shirt, wiping whatever cum was left from my face and began my walk toward the front door. Did I enjoy that? My painfully hard cock says yes, but I feel used at the same time which has my heart pounding in my chest.

I wrote my number down on the paper just in case and climbed into my truck, my mind reeling with confusion and fear and anxiety and excitement.