This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. It's a slow burner. As a forewarning, there is a reference to thoughts of incest in this part.
With one last look at the photo of Henry, Jack closed the folder and placed it back on the bedside cabinet. It was hard to breath and as he stood up to remove his top, a relentless pounding in his head, Jack couldn't help wonder just how many men had sucked Arnold's cock. At least 2, that was undeniable and it blew his young mind that he knew them. Probably more though, but then, wasn't that the whole reason for asking Arnold to teach him? His experience? It was true that the old man hadn't actually told him that much, not really, but Jack just knew. The photos proved it and there were more that he hadn't seen, not yet anyway.
There was something else though. The image of him with Henry wasn't just of a man sucking his cock. It had been posed, he was certain of it, especially after what Arnold had told him. The look on his face and that smirk as he held Henry's head. And his neighbour on all 4's with his rock hard cock sticking down at a 45 degree angle. Everything about it oozed experience and confidence and was it... power? A big man. No, a huge man. Huge. Hairy. Strong. Confident and yes, powerful, exerting his strength over the much weaker kneeling form of Henry.
As he unbuttoned his shorts with trembling hands, more thoughts forced through the hissing noise that filled his head. What would his mother think if she could see him now? His father too. Or his brother. Why had Mark said he could go to his room later? Was there more to it than just to talk? Did he know he'd been secretly spying on him? Did Bob and Henry feel what he was feeling right now? Did it get easier the more they did it? Why did they like it so much and why did they look so... devoted.
It was the sudden, but gentle sound of his shorts hitting the floor at his ankles that brought Jack back to reality. Reality? It didn't seem real at all. That and his heavy naked buttocks, freed from the confines of the tight denim, wobbling uncontrollably like they always did. And of course, his tiny cock, rigid and wet, bobbing freely in the warm air. It was the very first time he'd willingly undressed in front of anyone and confident that Arnold wouldn't humiliate him, it was... well, it was...
"Leave your trainers on, Jack," he heard Arnold say.
It felt like a command, but there was no harshness in his tone. He stepped out from his shorts and he was naked, but then he wasn't, not completely. It was an unusual sensation. How could keeping his trainers on make him feel like he was still dressed? He had to look down to actually confirm it. Yes, there it was. His tiny, virtually hairless, stiff cock. It was hard to understand, but he definitely understood one thing. He'd sensed it on Friday too. Arnold liked it. Could a simple pair of trainers be sexy? Did it turn him on? Maybe he'd look in his mirror later.
Arnold gripped his cock and slowly wanked himself, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of Jack's cock hardening body. He doubted he'd ever tire of ogling it.
"Fuck, Jack," he groaned huskily. "You're absolutely fucking beautiful. I ain't never seen anyone as beautiful as you," he added, releasing his bottle hard boner. "Just look at how fucking hard you make me."
He was already flushed, burning up in fact, but Jack felt a surge of blood reddening his cheeks. Compliments like that were still difficult for him to accept. He just wanted to melt in Arnold's big hairy arms and feel the sensation of his hairy body crushing him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and run his fingers through the thick pelt of fur that covered him. Looking at his thick throbbing cock triggered a rush of additional excitement and a certain amount of fear. His tiny balls tightened at the thought of putting his mouth on it.
"Turn around, baby," he gushed. "Let me see that beautiful big arse"
There it was again. It was still alien to hear someone saying "big" and "beautiful" about his bum in the same sentence. It was alien, but damned if it didn't feel good. So he turned around, the large mounds of jellylike flesh trembling as he did.
"It's like I died and went to heaven," Arnold wheezed. It really was and with 3 shorts steps he was standing right behind him.
Gripping his waist, Arnold bent his knees and rocked his hips to wipe his cock over all over Jack's cheeks, smearing precum over the alabaster white skin as he did. Carefully lining up his swollen shaft, he gently humped the remarkably deep crevice, revelling in the sensation of those huge velvety buttocks parting around his rampant cock. He'd fucked a lot of men in 40 years, but he'd never felt anything like this. It was like 2 big soft pillows caressing him and took all his willpower not to just bend him over there and then.
Jack closed his eyes. He felt helpless in Arnold's grip. He radiated strength and power. He was the epitome of masculinity, something Jack knew he could never be and it literally shook him to the core. His hands, the heat and weight of his thick cock on his cheeks, forging a path between them and the prickling of Arnold's dense pubic hair sent shivers down his spine. God, it was so close to his anus he could almost feel the hairs touching it. He couldn't stop himself pushing back just a little. Arnold's huge hands moved to his hips and fat strong thumbs pulled, then parted him. Fear and excitement in almost equal measures tore through his quivering body as Arnold's cock pushed closer and wiry hairs tickled his sensitive hairless hole. And then. Holy fuck! The feeling literally took his breath away.
"Oh God," he moaned, gasping for air. "I... oh... "
Arnold gently stroked his length along Jack's arsehole. Fuck, if he couldn't actually feel each and every glorious puckered inch of it. That sweet hole would be his soon enough and he longed to see it stretched around his thick pole. First things first though. One step at a time. Tonight was all about getting Jack's pretty pink lips around his cock and letting him explore. Lifting him effortlessly off his feet, he swung Jack around to sit him on the edge of the bed.
Oh the scent. The pungent musky scent of Arnold's beautiful, ugly, thick, hard manly cock invaded his nostrils, triggering his synapses one after the other in tiny explosions. A rope of precum swung like a pendulum barely a couple of inches from his face and he gulped down the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.
This was it. He was actually going to taste it. He was actually going to put his mouth around another man's cock. What if he didn't like it? What if he wasn't any good? What then? What would Arnold say? What would he do? What if... ?
"Calm down, baby."
Arnold's reassuring voice sounded so distant and the hissing sound in his head was becoming hard to deal with. God, he felt faint.
"Start by gripping it and just lick the tip, Jack," Arnold told him calmly. "Don't worry if you don't like, I won't mind, but you ain't never gonna know if you don't try."
Of course. Yes. Just lick the tip. That's what he said wasn't it? Grip it and lick the tip. He couldn't be sure, but it felt bigger when he wrapped his fingers around. Bloody hell, it was thick. How would he ever fit it in his mouth? The string of precum still hadn't broken away. Was he supposed to lick it up?
Tentatively darting his dry tongue out, Jack brought it up to Arnold's fat helmet and the string of precum finally let go, sticking to his chin as he licked the tip and quickly closed his mouth. He couldn't really taste anything. Probably because his mouth was so dry. The old man's appreciative groan gave him confidence and he licked again. Then again and again, like licking an ice lolly. Was he doing it right? Did Arnold like it?
His tongue was wet now. Wet and sticky. The taste was quite unexpected. Sweet, but with a slight hint of salt. It wasn't at all unpleasant. Squeezing the fat shaft, another long dribble of precum spilled out and Jack quickly lapped it up. God. It was lovely. It really was.
"Put your mouth over the helmet and suck, Jack," Arnold said encouragingly. "You'll get a lot more precum that way."
He couldn't help but gasp as young Jack's hot wet mouth clamped around him. There's nothing quite like the feeling of a virgin mouth, the mental kick as powerful as the physical sensation. Jack's first cock and it was his. A few more evenings like this and he'd be slathering on his meat like all the other cocksuckers who were obsessed with it. No, that wouldn't do at all. He wasn't just another piece of meat. He wasn't just another Bob or Henry or any of the other supposedly 'straight' men who used him for their selfish kicks. Jack was a beautiful young gay lad on a journey. A journey that he'd been entrusted with.
Surprisingly and without any guidance, he felt Jack begin to bob his head. It wasn't deep and his technique needed a little work, but fuck, this lad was special. These were the signs of a natural born cocksucker.
The sensation was utterly, well, it was incredible! It just seemed right to work his mouth up and down. Arnold was right about the precum too. It was flooding over his tongue and tricking down his throat. He couldn't get much more than a couple of inches in without feeling like gagging and it was so thick he struggled to get his mouth around it. Trying to set up a steady rhythm was more difficult than he expected, especially when trying to suck at the same time. With more practice maybe he would get better. More practice? Was he really contemplating more? So soon? It was bewildering, but he already knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd be sucking the old man's cock. It just felt so right. So natural.
He loved the way it stretched his mouth, entranced by the sensation of soft silky skin gliding over hard spongy muscle between his lips. There was another taste too, especially when the foreskin went all the way back. Was it tangy? Whatever it was, it only added to the sweetness of the precum and the musky aroma. To him, it tasted like a man's cock should. The type of cock he could only dream of having. It was sensory overload. He hoped Arnold was enjoying it. He hoped he was doing it right because, in spite of his initial fears, he suddenly realised why Bob looked so happy in that photo. He understood why Henry looked so devoted. It was the most primal, exhilarating feeling he could imagine. He had another man's cock in his mouth. A REAL man's cock. It really was happening and, oh God, he was teetering on the edge, his tiny cock twitching uncontrollably.
"Oh fuck, baby," Arnold grunted. "You've got the mouth of an angel."
Really? Did Arnold really think that? Emboldened, he tried even harder. Sucked harder. Moved faster, running his free hand up and over Arnold's big hairy belly. Holy fuck! The fur felt wonderful between his fingers. So dense. So soft. It was everything he'd thought it would be, only better. Like running his hands over bear. A big hairy bear of a man. In his excitement he lost his timing and went to deep, coughing as he gagged.
"Just take your time, Jack," he heard the distant voice purr.
But Jack was in his own little bubble, just him and the cock in his mouth. That thick glorious man-cock spewing an endless stream of sweet precum to wet his tonsils. His jaw ached. Shit! His jaw ached because he was sucking a man's cock! Oh God! He LOVED it. His hand was on Arnold's thigh. That big, strong, powerful hairy thigh, just like the big, strong, powerful hairy cock that was making his jaw ache. Is this how Bob felt? Did Henry feel what he was feeling? Is this what it feels like to be a cocksucker? God oh God oh God!
