We stood naked before a large mirror in his bathroom. I studied my reflection while Richard ran hot water over a washcloth. Moments earlier we had given each other handjobs as we sat on his living room couch. I had willingly stroked a man's erection and allowed him to do the same for me.
I didn't appear any different in the mirror but I knew I had suddenly changed. The feel of his hand caressing my private parts had been wonderful, but mostly I thought of the heat and firmness of his hard cock in my own hand.
Richard ran the washcloth over my belly and thighs then cleaned my cock and balls. It didn't bother me at all that I was allowing a man free access to my crotch. He rinsed the washcloth then gave it to me. I performed the same service for him.
A thrill ran up and down my spine when his penis became semi-erect in my hands. I was amazed at his recuperative powers. And, I was flattered by his response to my touches.
I must be queer if I enjoy giving a man a hard-on, I thought to myself.
We walked hand-in-hand back to the living room. Richard slipped into his boxers while I pulled up my little string bikini briefs. He went and poured two glasses of wine then returned to me. We sat close together on the couch.
"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he said softly.
"Maybe more...." I answered.
There was a nagging question on my mind that I felt that if I asked it, the answer could very well change my life. I took a large swallow of wine then turned and faced Richard.
"Where do we go from here?" I asked my voice barely above a whisper.
"That is entirely up to you," he answered, "...but first, I want you to tell me why you moved here—why did you leave your home and move a thousand miles to a city where you have no family—and as far as I know—I am your only friend here. What was so important that you risked changing everything in your life? What were you hoping to find here?"
I took another gulp of wine then said: "I don't know why I moved here—all I know is I needed to make a change in my life...I wasn't happy back there—something was missing."
"It occurred to you that you might be gay, and you were too embarrassed or ashamed to explore that possibility living near your family and friends?" he asked.
"I don't know—maybe..." I answered.
There was silence while we sipped our wine then I finally said: "All I know is I'm happy when I'm with you—I have a good time with you—I really like you—I like you a lot...." my voice trailed off.
He looked into my eyes and asked: "What do you want to do about that? What do you want to do about 'us'?"
I took a deep breath and softly replied, "I guess...I want you to teach me—I want you to show me how...."
"You want me to 'teach' you how to be gay?" he asked.
My face turned red. "I, ah...yes, I think so...."
His face softened with a slight smile across his lips. "That's not something I can 'teach' you—you either prefer the company of men or you don't—you'd rather have sex with men or you don't...if you decide that you want to have sex with men more than women—yes, I can teach you that—I can definitely teach you how to sexually satisfy a man, but first you have to know who you are."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"In the gay world there are generally two types of guys—there are 'tops' and there are 'bottoms'—have you heard those words before?"
"Yes, I've heard about that," I answered.
"So what do those words mean?" he asked.
He wasn't going to make this easy for me, I thought.
"Well, ah...I think it means the 'bottom' submits to the 'top'...."
"Submits? How does he 'submit' to the 'top'?"
My face was beet red now but I was determined to answer his question.
"The 'bottom' gets more pleasure from, ah...'servicing' the 'top' than being the one who is 'serviced'...."
"Johnny, I'm not trying to intentionally embarrass you, but if you decide this is what you want—you have to know and understand what you're getting yourself into...are you saying you want to be my 'boy'—are you telling me you want me to teach you how to sexually satisfy my penis with your hands—your mouth—and your bottom? Is this what you want?"
I took another deep breath then said "Yes—this is what I want—I want to be your 'boy'...."
I was visibly trembling. He put his arm around me and pulled me close to him. I loved the warmth coming from his body.
"You've made me a very, very happy man, Johnny...since the day we met I've wanted you—I wanted to hold and caress you—I wanted to kiss you and feel your hands and lips on my body--I hoped and prayed you would want to be my 'boy'—I am so attracted to you—I have to tell you one thing though..."
"Sure, Richard," I said, "...what is it?"
"If you decide you want to be my 'boy'—I will expect and demand total obedience from you—you will perform whatever task or duty I demand without question—you will learn how to sexually satisfy me—wherever and whenever I ask...in return, I will provide you with comfort, safety, security and most importantly—love...we could have a very nice life together...now—Johnny, do you want to be my 'boy'?"
Tears of happiness welled in my eyes. I threw my arms around him and gazed into his beautiful eyes.
"Yes, Richard, I want to be your 'boy'—please let me be your 'boy'...."
We kissed and hugged. Our lips melded into one. I'd never been happier in my life.
"Take off your shorts and sit on my lap," he ordered.
"Yes, Richard," I obeyed. I was naked sitting on his lap.
We kissed--his lips were warm and soft. Our kisses were passionate—unhurried.
"Reach inside my shorts and caress me," he said.
"Yes, Richard."
My small hand slid inside the waistband and found his hard cock. I ran my hand up and down his cock and balls. My own penis became hard and Richard squeezed it then released it. We smiled at one another.
"Your own pleasure is up to me—from now on I will decide when you can orgasm," he said, "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Richard—I understand," I said as my hand continued stroking his intimate flesh.
I felt his penis pulsate in my hand. Richard traced a finger around my lips.
"It's time we further your education," he smiled.
I knew what he meant—a shiver ran up and down my spine. I was about to taste a man's cock for the first time and the thought of it caused my own cock to throb.
He looked me in the eyes and said, "I want you to kneel between my legs—get used to it—you will be on your knees several times a day."
The forcefulness of his command excited me—I loved obeying a strong man.
"Pull down my shorts," he said and he lifted his hips to assist me. When his beautiful cock sprang into view my mind was overcome with lust and desire.
"Don't touch it yet--breathe deeply and smell my crotch," he ordered.
This was all new to me and it seemed like a strange request but when I inhaled his manly aroma I swooned with delight. His musky odor was overpowering and my mind was soon lost in a sensual fog.
"Cradle my balls in your right hand—take hold of the base of the shaft with your left—kiss my cock from the tip to the base, and always remember: whenever you kiss and lick my cock and balls keep your eyes open and focused on what you are doing."
"Yes, Richard," I said. His words overwhelmed me and his manly scent was driving me wild with passion.
I pressed my lips to his cockhead—so soft—so hot—I felt the cum begin to boil in my own balls.
I slowly covered his cock with kisses—every wonderful inch of it. When he told me to use my tongue I lapped at his flesh with long, loving strokes. His cock glistened with my saliva. I tasted his pre-cum and my own cock throbbed—my balls ached for release.
"Wet your lips and slide them over my cockhead—keep your tongue on my cock at all times," he ordered. "And when I cum, Johnny—I expect you to swallow all of it."
The crudeness of his command excited and thrilled me beyond belief—it was at that moment I was convinced this was my calling in life--I was born to kneel between men's legs and give them pleasure with my hands and mouth.
He had me slowly stroke the base of his prick while I sucked his cockhead deeper into my mouth. His scrotum was heavy in my hand as I rolled and massaged his balls. My own excitement no longer mattered to me. My only concern was to bring him to the best orgasm he'd ever had.
His moans were my inspiration—the wild gyrations of his hips told me I was performing well. He told me to go faster. My hand became a blur on his cock—my mouth was filled with his hot, trembling flesh.
I felt his cock expand in my hand—his balls tightened and his hips jerked wildly off the couch. He screamed and shouted his pleasure as his balls unloaded in my mouth. It took my very best efforts to swallow all of his manly cream.
When his cock grew soft he slumped back on the couch. Instinctively, I cleaned his cock with my lips and tongue.
Wow, I thought, that was the most erotic act I had ever experienced in my life. My cock and balls throbbed and ached, but I didn't care--Richard would decide when it was my time to cum.
He leaned forward and gently took my head in his hands and kissed me on my cum-slicked lips. The look of pure bliss on his face filled me with pride. I finally knew for sure that moving a thousand miles from home was the right thing to do.
I helped Richard pull up his boxers—I was to remain naked. He went and poured one glass of wine and I sat close to him on the couch.
"Put your right arm around my shoulders—reach into my shorts with your left hand and hold my balls," he commanded.
I immediately obeyed--his ball sac was still heavy in my hand.
"This is how a 'boy' demonstrates his submission to his 'man'," he explained. "By having to hold another man's balls, the boy freely accepts and admits the fact of his man's dominance over him—you will be holding my balls often."
He placed the wine glass at my lips and I took a large swallow. I suddenly realized how helpless I was in this position. By having me hold his balls, it occurred to me I was no longer a free and independent person—he was totally and completely in charge of this relationship—I belonged to him in both body and soul. And the thought of that was a little scary, but it also brought me great joy and comfort.
He took hold of my still rigid cock and smeared my pre-cum onto his fingers and presented them to my lips—I lapped up my own juices and cleaned his hand. I knew he was going to have me do things I'd never dreamt of before, and I readily accepted that I would obey his every wish and desire.
