Caleb 1 - Awakening
Scars don't just disappear.
I'd had one since I was little - for as long as I could remember, really. It had been quite the odd one too: almost like a bracelet around my left wrist. At the risk of being grotesque and making it sound worse than it was, I'd come to think of it in later years as what might happen if an actual red-hot bracelet had been put on there for just long enough to leave a rough pattern. One could feel it were they to run their fingers over it, but it hadn't been so noticeable that everybody's eyes had been drawn to it all the time. According to my parents, I'd been born with it. It was in my medical records and everything, and even my schools had been told about it in advance. My parents obviously hadn't wanted anybody calling child protective services, even if the records would have settled the matter quickly thereafter.
Every now and again, it had itched. Over time, I'd stopped thinking about it - even when I'd absentmindedly scratched at it.
So, when did it vanish? I wish I could tell you that I noticed right away when it did; I was a little slow on the uptake. Roundabouts my twentieth birthday, though, strange things started happening, and so that's where this story begins.
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We were in the middle of a heat wave and the night had been close and muggy.
Josh, my roommate, had come back to the room late the previous night, in a very confused state. He'd been kind of half-angry, half-frustrated, and yet laughing almost hysterically too. Apparently, he and his girlfriend, Louise, had spent a good part of the evening in her dorm room since her roomie had gone home early. They had been making out and getting ready for the main event when, out of the blue, Louise's older sister had decided to come calling. Josh had hidden under the bed in her room for almost three hours until the sister had left, by which time Louise had lost the mood and kicked him out with nothing more than a good night kiss and a severe case of blue balls.
I awoke to my normal morning wood and was contemplating taking myself into the shower to deal with it. I glanced across at Josh's bed to see if he was awake, and whether it was safe for me to move without him seeing me in that state. I was met with an amazing sight.
At some time during the night, Josh had kicked off his bedclothes, and, since he apparently had decided to sleep naked, was laid on his back on his bed - still asleep, but with a huge erection standing proudly. He had a beautiful cock: easily seven inches long, not overly thick, but with a fat mushroom head that was, at that moment, bobbing gently in time with his heartbeat.
Stunned for a moment, I stared at the image before me. My hand unconsciously closed around my own, slightly smaller cock and squeezed gently. I glanced up at his face, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was regular.
I regarded his cock again and licked my lips. I imagined how it might feel to close my hand around his cock, just as I was currently holding my own. I fantasized that it was, indeed, his cock that I had my hand around, and again gave another gentle squeeze. A bead of clear fluid appeared on his cockhead, glistening in the morning sun that was filtering through the cracks in the blinds.
Another glance confirmed that he was still sleeping; I returned my gaze to his crotch, gently rubbing my own cock. My eyes were fixed on that bead, which had doubled in size and was beginning to head south, dripping in slow motion towards his belly.
I pictured myself stretching out to catch that drip with my tongue, then moving to feel the heat of the fat, throbbing mushroom head. I'd taste his musk and then chase the drip back up until the tip of my tongue lapped gently around his slit.
His prick jerked suddenly. He let out a stifled groan and I looked quickly back at his face. He was apparently having an interesting dream. He was definitely still asleep, but his breathing had started to become heavier, and the pulsing of his tool had become quicker, matching his increasing heart rate. The veins on his shaft were standing out more distinctly, and precum was starting to ooze out, chasing the drip onto his belly and working its way toward his belly button.
I continued to stroke myself, still imagining it was his hardness that I held in my hand. I imagined once again bringing my head towards his groin, inhaling the scent of his maleness, feeling his blood pulsing through his cock. I imagined how it might feel to take the head of his penis into my mouth, run my tongue around the head, and taste the salty musk of his precum. I stroked myself faster as I dreamed of gently cupping and squeezing the balls nestled at its base, then taking him further into my mouth, moving my head slowly up and down, sucking and licking at him.
The imagery was intense - so much so that, after only a few minutes, I could feel my own balls start to tighten and churn. I stroked harder and faster, trying to both satisfy my own craving and not disturb Josh's sleep. I took careful glances at his face periodically to make sure that he had not woken up.
His precum had turned into a river by then, drooling constantly from his piss slit and pooling in his navel. I imagined pulling back, allowing the head of that magnificent organ to pop out of my mouth, before running my tongue down the length of his shaft, licking around his balls and then back up. I dreamed of running the tip of my tongue under the head of his cock before once more sucking his cockhead into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it as I bobbed up and down. I'd take more and more of his delicious meat into my mouth until I had pushed my face all the way down, so that the head of his cock was throbbing and drooling in my throat. I imagined that I could feel his cock becoming even harder in my mouth, the head swelling in the back of my throat - that I could feel his pulse as his meat throbbed and jumped in my mouth.
I was wanking my own cock like crazy; it was slick from my own precum, which was drooling from my cock at a similar rate to Josh's.
With a last glance at his sleeping face, I once again immersed myself in the fantasy of feeling the hardness and heat of his straining cock in my hand as I slurped and licked at his circumcised head, lapping up the precum as fast as it came out. I imagined sucking harder, waiting and hoping for him to shoot a load of his cum into my mouth.
With that thought, I reached my own climax. With a quiet grunt, I felt my cock pulse, and the first spurt of spunk jetted from it, soaking my belly under my covers.
At the exact same instant, Josh let out a long, low moan, and his cock throbbed massively. I was amazed to see a huge gout of cum launch itself from his slit, and arc, almost in slow motion, through the air before splattering itself on his upper belly. In time with my own orgasm, his second spurt was even bigger than the first, rocketing out of him and splattering onto his chest and throat.
Jet after jet of hot, thick, creamy whiteness spewed from his cock, covering his chest and belly in a pool. In the frenzy of my own straining cumshot, I longed to lap it all up; to feel the sweet, salty stickiness of it on my tongue; to taste his musk; to wrap my lips around the head of his still-throbbing member and catch the final spurts of his emission.
Finally, both our orgasms tailed off, and Josh groaned. I snapped my eyes closed, knowing he was waking, and tried to control my breathing to make him think I was still asleep.
"Fuck me!" I heard him whisper. "What the hell was that?"
Through slitted eyes, I saw him glance over at me almost guiltily. Apparently satisfied I was still asleep, he ran his hand down his belly, feeling the sticky wetness there before grabbing his cock and squeezing it, forcing out the last pearls of cum.
I wished that I could have been close enough to stretch out my tongue and clean off those pearls.
Josh shuddered again.
Glancing at me once again, he quietly got out of bed and went into the bathroom, where I heard the shower start up.
The room smelled of cum, heavy and musky. Whether it was his cum, mine, or both I wasn't sure, but my softening cock started to stiffen again at the scent. I grabbed a towel from my sports kit, and, after a quick wipe-down, pushed it under my bed for disposal later. I threw on some boxers, shorts, and a tee shirt, and opened the window to let in some air. By the time Josh was finished in the bathroom I was sitting back on my bed, waiting for my turn - and hopefully looking perfectly innocent. I stood up as he walked back into the room, also wearing shorts and a tee shirt.
"Hey," he said.
"Morning," I replied, feigning a yawn.
He looked at me sidelong. "Did I wake you?"
