Xmas in Madrid. Part 2
The next morning Mathis and I woke up early to get a jump on breakfast so we could plan our strategy for our interview afterwards.
We ate with this couple, Cindy and Steve. They were an unlikely couple. She was drop dead gorgeous while he was geeky. She looked innocent as a deer while he was just oblivious to social cues. Additionally, she was a few years older than him.
Cindy was one of those girls who was friendly toward everyone, even flirty at times. I didn't have any hopes of doing anything with her. Firstly, she was way out of my league. Secondly, she thought I was gay. I guess that's why she flirted with us - we were safe.
The first time she stood up from the table her protruding pregnant belly came as a shock to me. I'd failed to think of her as anything other than an unattainable sex godess.
Meanwhile, something was off with Mathis. He seemed distant and it felt like our fighting was real. I eyed his crotch occasionally, wondering if we would ever do it again, and what that would mean. But I was too nervous to broach the subject.
We went down to the hall where people were called for their interviews. Waiting for hours on hard wooden chairs we witnessed couple after couple go into tiny offices as the interviewers would come out to call them. Waiting was agony and the internet was full of scary stories.
When the fat slob popped his head out there was no mistaking that he was the one Pieter had spoken of. I hadn't told Mathis of Pieters visit so I couldn't mention his advice either.
I insisted we sit directly in front of the slob's door without saying why. Sure enough, the next time he came out he pointed to us and we had our turn with the preferred interviewer.
He asked lots of personal questions, both about us and other couples. I vouched for Pieter as I knew for a fact that Pieter and Bethany were legit since no man would be so heartbroken for sex otherwise. Again, I couldn't reveal how I knew in front of Mathis.
The questions got more and more personal until finally he asked, "So, boys, what does your partner's penis look like?" I was more glad than ever that I'd sucked Mathis' cock. Then I realized that Mathis hadn't actually seen mine.
Thinking quickly I jumped into action, pretending to be a unique couple, I started, "Well, sir, I don't know if you know it or not, but among our people some of us take the 'receptive' role and some of us take the 'active' role." It was horribly embarrassing to admit to being the effeminate one. Though as I was explaining it I started to see the truth under my lie. I continued, "Mati's cock is exactly eight inches long, it's circumcised and has a circumcision scar about three inches down, it's pointy on the end but gets wide enough to stretch my lips at the base." I had to be so detailed and accurate that he would never ask Mathis to describe mine. I continued, "His hair is trimmed short, giving him wonderfully furry testicles." Then I added the crowning touch, "And his sphincter is darn cute, with a little nub on the top." I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.
The slob was nodding as I described everything. Then he worried me, "And you, young man, what does Dani's penis look like? But Mathis was cool as a cucumber. He shrugged, smiling wryly, "Well, his throat is very tight..."
So there it was. I was outed as the one who gets used and not the one receiving the benefits of any blowjobs. The guy must have been sure that I was a schmuck that never got his needs taken care of.
He motioned to Mathis, "Drop 'em." But Mathis had no shame or worries. Confidently he stood and dropped his shorts. I could be that confident too if I had a monster cock like his. Even soft, Mati's dick made my pulse quicken.
The guy looked him over carefully, actually taking notes. To my shock he demanded that Mathis show his pucker. Looking very satisfied, our interviewer scratched the paper with his pen, "You can pull your pants up."
To me he said, "We need to eliminate the possibility of collusion. I'll see you alone for a moment." He jerked his thumb toward a back door which led to an office behind the front office, and we went in.
The guy fell heavily into a leather office chair, "How badly do you want to move on?"
"Oh, very badly. I neeeed to go. We can fill out any form you have. We'll pass all your tests." I realized he expected more and I went for my wallet.
I shouldn't have been surprised when the guy reached under his overflowing stomach and slowly unzipped his pants. I swear he smirked as he pushed his underwear below his ginormous balls. His dick was hard and thick yet barely poked out from the rolls of fat one would call a belly. Half hidden in a dense unruly mass of wiry hair, my impression was that it looked sweaty. Can a cock look sweaty? Peering closer I saw a sheen so I decided it could.
Like a zombie I stumbled forward, lowering myself until both my hands were on his knees. He mused out loud, "I knew exactly what you meant, son. There's tops and bottoms in our community. Your partner Mathis is the top...and so am I. Now lick the balls first."
Everyone knew I was a cock-whore: that was the reputation we'd disseminated. So like a whore I smiled gleefully, though not really feeling so cheery. I pressed my face into his humid nuts, slathering them all over and removing the very real sweat. Acting as zealously as I could, I only stopped to remove an occasional distasteful hair from my mouth.
My ex-girlfriend would be very proud of me if she could see me now with a face full of man-flesh. I'd always refused her the mere thought of homoerotic activity.
The nasty man actually tugged on my ears to indicate he wanted me to move higher. I followed obediently. Opening wide, I plunged down on the short thick stalk. Well, I think it was short. It could have just been hidden. The bell was thicker than Mati's or Pieter's, much thicker. With only the crown in me, I was filled up. My forehead bounced off his hairy stomach, and the only way I got a third inch to invade my mouth was with the help of his pudgy hands.
When his hands clamped tight I felt totally at his mercy. Small and puny compared to this much older guy, I was clearly going to have to keep going for as long as he wanted. Helpless to resist his desires, I was also helpless not to respond to the sheer power he held over me.
I jammed my hand into my pants, fingering my cockhead, hoping to get off too. Bobbing enthusiastically I had to free my dick to truly enjoy his cock. Beating my meat frantically, I tried a new blowjob technique, rubbing the bottom with my tongue and toying with his balls with my spare hand.
His arms flexed and his hips jerked and he held me as far as I could go given the bulk of his stomach. I heard him groan, then I added my guttural proof of joy to his. I was mostly concerned that Mathis was going to be listening to us both and judging me.
The jizz erupted, boiling over, spreading to the far recesses of my oral cavity. It was warm and slimy but promised me a trip home. I milked his fat cock with my other hand.
When he finally let go I staggered to my feet, lightheaded. He sat there looking like he was going to have a heart attack and I only hoped he would wait to die until after he stamped our papers. His dick flopped to one side, leaving a spot of white cum on his fat thigh. I wondered how many carbs were in cum.
Then he laughed, demeaning me. "You passed the test."
I feigned indifference, "That's it? A simple blowjob?"
"Kid, that's not it at all." He pointed to the floor at his feet where I had left my gooey load on the tile. "Anyone who cums from giving head is as gay as a daffodil."
Shit! I'd given three blowjobs now and I had yet to actually experience my orgasm. Yet again, I didn't remember cumming at all.
Back in the first office Mathis accepted our papers with a disquieting silence. Did he hate me for being gay? Cause I wasn't! A little cum on the floor proved nothing.
Exiting the fat man's office I locked eyes with my new crush, Cindy. It felt like she knew. Like she was staring at my bruised knees. Of all the people to be there!
Mortified, I ran to the farthest part of the building. At least an hour later I returned to our room, offering an unasked explanation, "We got the stamp. Didn't we?" And I left it at that.
The next day we waited on the chilly train platform. All around us people wore blue plastic jumpsuits and booties over their clothes. We had been issued the same.
After embarking, we found our berth on the train to Madrid. I still couldn't quite look Mati in the eye so I went in search of a quiet place.
Sitting on the only public toilet for hours, I wondered just how I'd gotten here. Among other writings and in girl's handwriting, the graffiti said, "Berth 212 for good head." That was OUR cabin this trip and I took out my keys to scratch it out.
But I was interrupted by a foot under the next stall which was lifted very slowly, then tapped, if you can call something so slow a tap. I tapped back to see what would happen, or just to say 'hi'.
In a flash he sat on his heels, sticking his hips and hard cock under the partition to my side.
I stared at the brown beast poking out from the blue plastic jumper, "Was I really going to give another blowjob just six hours after the last one? My mouth was watering and I had my answer.
I dropped to the floor, not at all concerned about its cleanliness. My mouth was on the unseen stranger's cock and I sucked at a fevered pace. I wanked and I sucked, craving another mouthful of the creamy stuff. How fast could I get it?
