All I could say was: “Huh?”
He smiled again and put his hands in his pants, ice cube and all.
“Is this a porn or something? Some porn prank? ’Cause this is just not right.”
“Come here,” he said.
What was the matter with me? I’d done this a thousand times. Okay, not a thousand times, but enough. I always had the shaky legs and beating heart and slight nausea, but with each guy it got a little bit easier. Now I had tremors through my whole body. This was different. This was new.
I gulped and took a step forward. Like I said, it was a small apartment, so one step is all.
“Tyler, I swear. If this is a joke…”
He grabbed my hand and put it between his legs. I felt a full-on hard-on. “Is that a joke, dude?”
I licked my lips, serious now. “Nope. That is not a joke.”
Tyler reached behind his back and took his tank top off in one quick motion. I stepped back, breathing rapidly. He got on his knees and started untying his shoes. “Dude. Relax. Breathe. We don’t want your heart rate raised too high. Yet.”
I still wasn’t convinced this was real. This was porn dialogue. No one really talked like this. I told him this. By now Tyler was down to just his shorts. He stood and raised his hands. “Well, it can be porn if you want. This is the last step. It’s up to you, man. Finish this.” He grabbed the waistband of his shorts, pulled it forward, and let it snap back. He patted his crotch again.
I took a few seconds to look him over, really look at him. Ever since that first day, when I turned off the part of my brain that would normally be attracted to him, I hadn’t looked at him. But something had happened in the past few months. I’d caught myself looking out of the corner of my eyes. Secret glimpses. But this was an open invitation to ogle him.
He turned, modeling his body. His body was hairier. He always had scruffy legs, the manly legs of an athlete. But now his chest was coated with fine black hair, there was fuzz around his nipples and a trail ran from just under his belly button (an innie, in case you’re curious) into his shorts.
He was tanned; not that fake orange tan, an athlete’s tan from running in the sun. His arms were a little darker than his torso, this rainy season. But after a few weeks of sun, his body would match his arms. I wondered where his other tan line started. I stepped forward. Tyler had that cocky grin of his. I got on my knees and looked up at him.
“Porn it is.”
“Goody!”
I reached around and rubbed the back of his thighs with slow circular motions, and felt his muscles tighten, then I lowered my hands and stroked the backs of his knees. I leaned in and kissed his calves. I could smell the puddle water that had splashed on his legs when he ran from his car to the apartment. I gave a quick lick, then ran my tongue up the inside of his leg, around his knee and up his thigh. I took a deep breath and pulled his basketball shorts down.
“Aw, what an anticlimax,” I sighed.
“Huh?”
“You’re supposed to be free-balling it. In porn they never wear underwear, their cock just swings free when the pants are unzipped.”
“I’ll have to remember that next time.”
I stood up and looked him in the eyes. “Are you sure? You want this?”
“I’m sure.” His dick was hard, raging. The outline of the shaft ran just under his waistband, across his thigh. He rubbed the length of it and lingered at the head. I saw a dot of wetness there and licked my lips.
I wanted to hold him off a bit, make sure he knew what he was getting into, that he could be comfortable with a guy. With me. I kissed his neck, his shoulder. I grabbed his biceps and raised his arms. I buried my face in his pits and smelled him. He smelled clean, fresh, like spring—that muskiness right before rain. He was still slick with sweat, because when I went back to his shoulder and started licking and sucking, I could taste the saltiness. I nibbled and Tyler moaned, quietly, in the back of his throat. His right arm circled my back and grabbed my shoulder. He tucked his left hand between my thighs. I ran my tongue from his shoulder to his chest, licking his musculature. I started in a large circle at his pec, spinning smaller and smaller until I got to his nipple. I lightly sucked and teased it with my tongue.
The touch of Tyler’s hand on my crotch got more ferocious as he pressed the heel of his hand on my dick. It was a little too rough, but still nice. Then he pulled me gently. “Dude, I gotta tell ya. My blue balls are aching.” He thrust his hard-on against my hip and rubbed.
“So much for foreplay, straight boy. Way to be a raging stereotype.”
“Save your mouth for when you wrap it around my dick.”
“Say no more.”
I lowered back to the floor. On my knees, looking at Tyler’s next-to-nakedness, I suddenly felt overdressed. I yanked my shirt off and tossed it somewhere. Now I was ready. I grabbed the waistband of his underwear and saw for the first time that it was a brother to the Kelly green pair. These were cornflower blue with black edging. I bit my lower lip and yanked.
Slap!
Tyler’s meaty cock bobbed and smacked me square in the face. He laughed
“Tyler, so help me, if you make one single joke about being cock-eyed, I’m done.”
“Dude, I didn’t get you in the eye. There’s a cock-shaped mark on your cheek.”
I felt wetness on my cheek. “Then why do I have tears on my face?”
“Those aren’t tears.” He brought his hand down and wiped the wetness away with a finger. I recognized the stringy fluid: precum. He brought his finger to his lips and licked it off. “Mmm,” he smiled. He knew that would turn me on. Once, when we were drinking, I’d confessed some of my turn-ons, like armpits and guys who eat their own cum.
So, I swallowed him whole. It must have taken him by surprise, because his knees buckled and he grabbed my head for support. He wasn’t lying about his cock being an impressive size. Nice and girthy and just long enough. I had perfected deep-throating a few years earlier and employed one of my best tricks: I swallowed and let my throat muscles massage his cockhead.
“Oh. Oh. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit, shit. That’s so fucking gooood!!!” He was almost in a squat now, pushing his hips into my face. My nose was buried in his newly regrown bush. The sweaty, musky man-smell was even more intense here. It was driving me wild.
I pulled off of his dick slowly, sucking all the way up. When I got to his head I tongued the slit as I felt a flood of precum ooze out. With a smack of my lips I pulled my mouth off and looked up at him. “Look man, no teeth!”
He had a wicked grin. “First time I’ve ever been deep-throated, bro.”
I stood and kissed him. Too forward? A kiss means more than a blow job, so this could have made—or broken—the moment. Thankfully he kissed me back. Then he raised his head and licked my lips. More precum. He kissed me again. “Now back to business.”
“Don’t be afraid to talk dirty to me. This is porn, you know.”
He grabbed the hair at the base of my neck and said, “Get back down there and tell me how much you love sucking my cock.”
I saluted and kissed him once more, running my mouth down his body, through his treasure trail. I’ve mentioned his epicly athletic body: this time I lingered on his hips, licking along one side of his V, down to his pubes. I took a deep breath, taking in his scent, and moved my face to the base of his dick. I ran my tongue up the shaft and looked back up.