He crouched down so that we were face to face and leaned in. At first I thought he was going for a kiss, but instead he licked a clean stripe up my face, collecting about half of his load on his tongue. He leaned back and made a show of him swallowing his own cum, opening his mouth up and sticking his tongue out to show me that he drank all of it.
At this point, a strand of precum fell from my jock like spider silk, constantly filling up the glass underneath me. I was so horny I'm not sure what I would have done with myself if he hadn't given me his next command.
"Take out your cock and stroke it. I want you to cum into the glass. Can you do that for me, boy?"
I nodded emphatically, temporarily forgetting how to speak, as I reached down quickly and freed my dick from the side of my jock. My cock isn't huge by any means; at about 6 1/2 inches long, its length is the most impressive feature. It's fairly thin, probably comparable to the base of a chess piece. I manicured last week, so apart from a neat triangle of pubes above my crotch, there was very little hair obscuring it. The pink head was engorged larger than I'd ever seen it, weighing my erection down so that it hung away from my body at a little more than a 90 degree angle. My set of decently sized, smooth balls broke free of the jock as well, hanging low after being outside in the summer heat.
My cock reacted to its freedom by leaking a dribble of precum, which I quickly ran my hand over and started jerking my dick as fast as I could. It felt so good, I know it wouldn't be long before I shot the load Andrew requested.
He looked down and darted his eyes back up to mine, his face still only inches from my own. "Nice cock, too. Sometimes the men that come over like to hold onto mine while they fuck me, like a joystick. Keeps me in place."
Oh god. Andrew was tempting me with more stories of his cumdumps. Stories that, I now realized, I could soon be a part of. That got me even closer and closer to climaxing.
"I'm about to cum!" I told him hurriedly, and he took that opportunity to lick another stripe up my cum-coated face. This time, though, he leaned in for the kiss I'd expected moments earlier. His mouth opened up and I I reciprocated. He unfurled his tongue and filled my moth with his load, still warm and thin from his body heat and subsequently mine. As I tasted his cum, I felt myself pass the point of no return. Only at the last second did I remember to aim for the glass, pushing my cock straight down. My load pumped from me with strength as Andrew and I made out, passing his cum back and forth between the two of us. I could feel the cum pulsing through my cock. My orgasm was so strong that I let out a whimper into his mouth, unashamed of how good it felt.
My orgasm ended, but Andrew kept up the kiss. We slowly swallowed the cum between the two of us, eventually transitioning to a more gentle and affectionate kiss. The taste of his seed lingered, though, and gave me a sense of dirtiness that I think we both enjoyed.
When we did eventually break the kiss, he stayed close to me. "That was really hot," I commented.
"I agree entirely." He looked down at the glass, visibly appreciative that I had gotten it all in. Some shots had hit the side of the glass, leaving streaks of cum that meandered down into the bulk of the milky-white mixture of precum and cum that I had produced. He picked up the glass, sipped from it, and smiled.
"Tastes good, too."
I blushed, slightly embarrassed to see the masculine man before me sipping on my precum like it was his afternoon cocktail. I know I shouldn't've been; I had tasted his. But from a glass it felt different, like it was a product of our experience, a tangible outcome of us both pigging out together.
He got up and stepped out of his shorts, which had never fully come off throughout the encounter, and placed the glass down on the breakfast bar. Seeing his round furry ass from behind reminded me of how nice it had been to greet him ass first. Maybe this lifestyle was for me.
I got up and tucked my now-deflated package back into my jockstrap. I thought to sit down, but precum still soaked the bottom of the pouch and I didn't want Andrew's couch to get stained. I remained standing as he made his way back over to me in front of the coffee table, leaned down to pick up the glass of ice water that I'd placed down, and handed it to me.
"Drink some, you'll need your fluids back after a load like that." His tone was slightly teasing in a way that I didn't mind at all. In fact, I was proud to have produced a load like that. "You can lose the jockstrap and sit on the couch."
It was phrased as an invitation, but I took it as instruction, tugging off the jockstrap with my free hand. I picked it up as I sat down on his couch, and he sat down next to me. We both were naked from the waist down, save my shoes and Andrew's socks.
"So, what do you think?" He asked me.
It took me a few moments to process the question and remember that before all of the fun, he'd propositioned me with joining in on his cumdump sessions.
"If it's a no, that's totally fine. If you want to, you can go right now and this can just be a one-time hookup. No pressure."
I thought it through, mind now mostly clear of horniness. I have always wanted to have multiple guys use me to get off, and I enjoyed feeling like a sleazy sex toy. The objectification was hot, and the way Andrew described his encounters made me feel like objectification would be intrinsically tied to this. I could refuse guys if I really didn't want to, and with Andrew next to me I wouldn't have to worry about someone getting angry and aggressive. They could just take it out on him or, if things got really sketchy, escort them out. He made me feel like being a horny, load-hungry bottom wasn't something to be ashamed of, but rather a source of brotherhood and togetherness. The choice was easy.
"Yes," I said definitively. "I'd like to join you as a cumdump. At least for a trial run."
A smile grew across his face, and I could read both genuine happiness and devious pleasure in his expression. "I was hoping you'd say that."
We talked a bit more, getting to know one another in all of the ordinary ways. He was a social media manager for a few companies, working freelance and mostly from his apartment. That sort of networking skill explained the group of horny guys he'd made connections with. He was 34, and has been in the queer scene for over a decade. He'd tried topping before, along with a long list of kinks and fetishes, some of which he noted to be very enjoyable. But gangbangs and cumdumps were his bread and butter, and he'd been hooked ever since he hosted his first one when he was 26.
I told him about myself as well. I explained my job as a chemical analyst for the city's water filtration plant. I am 24 and haven't really involved myself with the queer community, as most of my friends were straight and I was too intimidated to go to gay bars alone. I spent my time swimming, drinking with my friends, and organizing the occasional hookup (which I clarified was usually much more vanilla than Andrew's).
"Swimming makes sense; you've got kind of a swimmer's build. Unlike me," he commented as he rubbed his belly. "I've got more of a rugby thing going on. Though, I just lift"
"I really like your build," I offered truthfully. "It's super sexy."
"Well thanks man, same to you. You want a better look?"
"Please."
With that, he stretched his arms above him and pulled off his tank, leaving him completely naked on the couch. His big pecs hung slightly, with his lower torso rounding into a firm, solid, and powerful midsection. Hair coated his chest, and a thick line descended over the ridge of his belly down to his soft cock. He was beautiful. I joined him in removing my t-shirt.
We were really comfortable with one another, talking while our messy, soft cocks hung between our legs. I'd drank all of my water, at which point Andrew courteously got up to get me some more while I enjoyed the view. After my second glass, I was feeling much less tired from the sex.
"So, there's a few things I'd like to do before you go. Come with me."
Andrew got up and I followed, setting my water glass down on the table. He walked nude over to the breakfast bar and grabbed the glass of cum before proceeding down a hallway past the kitchen. I followed after him, eager to keep his strong body in eyesight. He led me to a bedroom, presumably his, but notably it was mostly barren. A few more lewd fetish portraits hung on the walls, stylized prints of men taking cock, covered in cum, or shooting their load onto a kneeling bottom. Definite turn ons.
