Summer of Coc

All participants are over 18.

*****

It was the summer of 1989, and I had just turned 19: legal drinking age in my part of the world. Tim Burton's Batman destroyed the competition in movie theatres. Roseanne and Cheers were the biggest shows on TV. Radio was still a popular medium, and Madonna and Prince ruled the airwaves. The internet and cellphones as we know them were still years away.

I was hired as a general construction labourer by a firm that was building a number of sub-divisions around the city. Most of the work in my first two weeks had consisted of moving things for the sub-contractors and tradesmen: lumber, drywall, insulation, paint, or whatever I was told. The work broadened my shoulders and built muscle in my arms and chest; I could see a difference even after ten days. Nobody thought anything of the threat of skin cancer back then, and most of us went shirtless on these hot days. My sunburn was bronzing into a tan by this time.

The only retreat from the heat was our lunch break, spent in the unfinished basement of one of the framed houses. The cement basement floor had not been poured yet and the dampness of the earthen floor filled our noses. We were sitting on blocks and pails. It was pleasantly cool out of the sun's harsh glare. Sunlight streaming through the windows provided all the light we needed.

I always enjoyed lunch break. The tradesmen and my fellow labourers often sat around talking about sports, music and movies. I listened a little nervously as my fellow labourers compared jail experiences or shared some of their wilder (and illegal) exploits. Sooner or later, you could count on sex to come up in these conversations. The jokes and anecdotes don't bear repeating in the days of the #metoo movement, but there was a lot of laughter in that basement for the weeks we used it as our lunchroom.

My own sex situation was a little sad. My heart had been stuck on the perfect girl since ninth grade; she was with someone else and I was holding out hope against all odds that we would get together some day. For that reason, I was still a virgin at nineteen and very conscious of my lack of sexual experience. I was thinking of her when one of the tradesmen steered the lunch conversation in a firmly sexual direction.

Ray was one of the bricklayers, a black man with the most overdeveloped arm muscles I ever saw. His chest really was like a barrel. He was probably about thirty-five. He put a question out there for the whole room.

"What was the sexiest thing that happened to you in your whole life?"

Two of my fellow labourers, Randy and Amos, declared that the first blow job they ever received was the high watermark of their sex lives so far. Tony, one of the painters, said he had a girl who let him enjoy all three holes. Stuart, a carpenter, claimed to have had a threesome with his wife and her best friend.

Having no experience to draw upon, but not wanting to admit it, I echoed my fellow labourers and claimed my first blowjob was the highlight of my sexual history.

"Were you giving or receiving that blowjob?" Ray asked me, to the great amusement of the other men.

"He's blushing," said William, another of my fellow labourers.

It was true. I had flushed crimson in embarrassment at having been singled out for that remark when I had only repeated what others had said. But Ray and the others might have construed my reddening face as a sign that I was guilty of the shameful deed.

"I think we know the answer," Ray said.

My colour only deepened. My ears burned. I was frozen in shame, unable to deny my lack of blowjob experience—either giving or receiving.

"I had a bitch in prison up north," William said. "He was the best cocksucker I ever had."

Ray and a few of the others nodded with understanding and I started to realize that more than one or two of my construction friends had been to prison. All of the men eyed me with a predatory look.

"Well, Sunshine," Ray said. "Looks like you've piqued some interest."

Considering that Ray started the sexual discussion, I could have argued that he was the one who fired the men up. It felt like Ray had manoeuvred me into this situation with cleverness and ease. I couldn't help but admire him. It was much later that I realized what happened next was all to his plan.

"Now you need to bring the real men some relief." Ray grinned at me.

I looked around timidly at the six shirtless men. Three of them wore wedding bands, but I was pretty sure that wasn't going to stop them. I was surrounded by muscular men who could easily tear me to ribbons if I defied them. They were staring me down and I wavered. I swallowed hard and nodded my reluctant agreement to be used for their pleasure. I knew that even my surrender would have unforeseen consequences.

I felt an anticipatory twitch in my cock, and I wondered how I might suddenly be so aroused. I should be terrified—well, I was terrified, but I was also finding myself incredibly curious about what I was expected to do. My nipples hardened. My dick filled with blood and began to rise to attention, pushing out the front of my jeans.

Realizing what was expected of me, I slid my ass off the rough concrete block I had been sitting on and knelt on the floor. The dirt floor stained the knees of my jeans.

"Well, looky here," said Amos, coming close enough to twist one of my nipples. "He's into it."

"Good for him," said Ray, who didn't care about anything but getting blown. Randy and Amos stood behind me on either side, probably to make sure I didn't do a runner.

As the natural leader of the group, Ray was up first. He stepped in front of me, unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, exposing the bulge in his underwear. A moment later, he had rolled his briefs down to reveal his thick, black cock. Over fifteen seconds, I watched as his engorged penis expanded toward me. It rose with a slight curvature, reaching its full size of about eight inches. I had never seen a cock that big in the gym locker rooms or showers.

"Are you waiting for it to sing, man?" Ray's voice was impatient. I had been staring in admiration at his dick. I looked around the shadowy basement at the other men, all watchful, all waiting their turn and none too patiently.

I was afraid. Doing this was as frightening as what would happen to me if I did not. I forced myself to lean in toward his curved cock. I took the bulbous head of the cock into my mouth.

Ray cursed. "Watch it with the teeth, motherfucker."

So, it came to pass that I was instructed in my first blowjob technique: always use your lips to hide your teeth from cock.

I went down on him again and this time there was no complaint. His organ was a paradox, both hard and spongy-soft. He was sweaty and musky from the morning's hard labour, but the odour and the taste of him were not at all unpleasant. I knew there was no chance I could get that whole enormous cock in my mouth and I didn't even have the concept of deep-throating, much less the skill for it. I sucked on his knob, licking it in circles over the sensitive area.

"Those are some good moves, faggot," Ray said.

I said that I wasn't a faggot, but my voice was muffled by a mouthful of cock.

The minutes ticked by and my mouth managed to absorb about half his prick. I licked and sucked his flesh as I began to bob my head back and forth. I used my right hand to jack the length of Ray's cock that I couldn't take in my mouth. The suction I applied must have increased the stimulation for Ray, because he began to moan, softly at first, then louder and with urgency. The other men cheered Ray on.

"Bust a nut on him, Ray."

"Come in his mouth!"

"Face-fuck the little runt!"

Ray took that last bit of advice to heart. Up until then, his hands had been at his sides. Now he interlaced his fingers in a grip around the back of my head. With his titanic strength, he easily held my head in place as he began flexing his hips and driving his cock in and out of my mouth. He fucked my face faster than I could keep up with and his pecker was almost in my throat. I couldn't breathe properly and I choked and gagged. Hot tears burned my face. I felt spittle and pre-cum pouring out the sides of my mouth and landing on my chest.

Ray suddenly shuddered and let out groan. I tasted a bitter, salty solution in my mouth.

I had given my first blowjob and it was a success. Ray didn't care if it was my first or not. He had what he wanted. He wiped his wet dick in my hair and across my face. He smiled down at me triumphantly as he tucked his cock back into his pants.

"Done in five minutes," Ray said. "You made me come faster than I usually do, slut."

I was in a shock-like state. My emotions were all mixed up. I was simultaneously ashamed of my easy submission and proud of my first cocksucking achievement. I wasn't left to ponder for long. As Ray backed away from me, William moved in.

William was a well-built man with a golden complexion. His black hair hung down to his shoulders, but his torso was hairless. He had penetrating brown eyes and a cruel mouth. He was lithe and thin, but toned.

When he unzipped and exposed himself, I saw a cock of more manageable proportions. I looked up at William and he scowled back.

"Lunch break isn't over yet. Eat up, Homo."

Where Ray had smelled pleasant, William was intoxicating. I've never come across a man since whose natural scent was that alluring; it seemed mismatched with his sour character. I enclosed his cock in my mouth and got down to work, applying the lessons I learned on Ray's cock.

William used me hard and called me names: faggot, cocksucker, fairy. My erection throbbed in my pants at this abuse from my co-worker.

It didn't take long for William to achieve orgasm. When he was ready, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and blasted his creamy load all over my face and hair. It was hot on my skin. Like Ray, he cleaned his organ on the dry side of my scalp. I bent my head to make this easier for him.

"Fucking sissy," William said with disgust as he packaged himself away and stepped back to allow the next candidate to take his place.

It was Tony, one of the painters. He was less toned than the others. At about fifty or so, he had a pronounced belly. His whole torso was covered with coarse black hair; on his chest, it was thick enough to comb or brush. When he unleashed his cock, I wasn't surprised to see that it was surrounded by a thick nest of pubic hair. The cock itself was perhaps five inches hard. Compared to what I had been dealing with, it looked like a walk in the park.

It wasn't that easy. The man had more endurance than his fellows and lasted a full ten minutes despite my best efforts to get him off quick. Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw Randy and Amos stroking their dicks, overeager for their turns with my mouth.

Finally, Tony unloaded his portion of cum in my mouth, called me a pansy and told me to swallow it all; it hadn't occurred to me that I could do otherwise. The silky semen slid down my throat. When that was done, Tony told me to lick his cock clean of its residual sperm and saliva. I obeyed without hesitation. Another satisfied customer.

Stuart, one of the carpenters framing the houses, stepped up. He was fit, tanned and fair, with a moderate amount of chest hair. He grinned down at me and said, "I'll bet you didn't see this coming at breakfast."

He got that right.

The familiar sound of a fly opening was followed by a good-humoured laugh. I had felt that if I disappointed Ray with my performance, he would have boxed my ears; William might have done even worse. Tony was quieter and hard to gauge. Stuart's comparative cheer set me a little more at ease. This was good because Stuart was of a mind to play with me a little.

In his right hand, Stuart held his six-incher before my eyes. "You want this?"

I nodded, but Stuart wanted me to say the words.

"I want your cock."

"What do you want to do with my cock?"

"I want to suck it until you come in my mouth."

"Are you a little slut for cock?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to be our blowjob bitch from now on?"

"Yes."

"Ask us nicely."

I looked past Stuart at Ray, Tony and William. I couldn't see Randy and Amos behind me but I knew they were there; I could hear them as they continued beating themselves off. "Please let me be your blowjob bitch."

The men cheered.

"Good slut," Stuart said, and he pushed his dick into my mouth. I managed to cover my teeth with my lips just in time to save him some painful scratches. I leaned into my work and inhaled his first four inches with some small challenge from my gag reflex. My head sawed back and forth against his genitals as I began to blow him in earnest. My nose touched his pubic hair; I inhaled the aroma of yet another man's groin. There was a sweetness to his scent that motivated me to continue despite my exhausted tongue and my aching jaw.

I still had a throbbing erection; I was more turned on than I had ever been in my young life.

My mind wrestled with the pleasure of giving pleasure and the social standards of the day. I knew some gay guys at my university, and they took a lot of grief for openly living according to their preferences. I had been unkind to them myself, little suspecting that I was capable of deriving an enjoyment from cock similar to theirs.

After about five minutes, Stuart told me to ask for it.

I obeyed. "Please, please give me your come!"

Stuart came with a roar, flooding my mouth with more cum. It tasted as sweet as he smelled. My cock was shivering in my pants. I licked him clean and he backed off.

Amos and Randy had been jerking off continuously for fifteen minutes or so. By the time their turns were imminent, they were both overexcited. They simultaneously exploded in my face, blasting string after string of cum onto my nose and mouth and into my eyes. My face was criss-crossed with lines of semen.

I felt so dirty kneeling before two men and wearing their cum that my own cock erupted along with theirs. I shivered with pleasure and a wet spot took shape in the front of my jeans.

The men all laughed, not just in appreciation of an easy, half-naked male slut covered in glistening sperm, but also in mockery at the two young labourers who couldn't keep their loads in long enough to enjoy my mouth properly.

Our lunch break had run overtime. The satisfied men went upstairs and resumed their tasks with spring in their steps. I was still lying back on the dirt floor, cum rolling off me in great dollops. Ray called back to me as he mounted the stairs.

"Stay there and wait. Just like that. I'll send the roofers down."

Ray was as good as his word. By the time I was done that day, I had performed blowjobs on ten men.

The rest of the summer, my labour largely consisted of giving men head, not just in the basements of unfinished houses, but all over the job site, especially in the portable toilet and storage trailer. It seemed I was making ten dollars an hour to follow my bliss. Of course, being paid for it also made me feel like something else, and that only made it hotter for me.

William took particular advantage of my new-found skills. I blew him after work in the back seat of his car at least three days a week. He always treated me with the same disdain he showed the first time I sucked him off, calling me 'queer' and 'homo' and such. He threatened to fuck my ass several times, but he never did. I came in my pants more than once while servicing the crude, muscular labourer.

My summer of cock eventually came to an end and I returned to university. I was lucky with women that year, finally losing my 'straight virginity' to the campus skank. I studied her blowjob techniques too, and applied them to my new discovery: washroom glory holes.

In the years that followed, I met a woman and fell in love. We married and have lived together happily for decades. Just the same, once or twice a year, I break my wedding vows and follow the irresistible call of cock, meeting men in cars and motel rooms for quick blowjobs. I think of myself as a straight cocksucker, if there can be such a thing.

To this day, I still don't know one end of a hammer from the other, but I came away from that summer with more experience than I had ever imagined possible and memories to last a lifetime.