How my girlfriend turned me gay, Part III
And so the story continues, although there aren't any girls in this chapter
“Your turn,” I said. “Strip.”
Steve stood up. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it off, then kicked off his shoes. When his hands went to his waist, I stopped him.
“I’ll help,” I said.
I unbuttoned the fly, lowered the zipper. His pants started to sag, revealing the top band of his underwear and a bulge below. I pushed the pants aside and cupped the bulge, which was still growing. I pressed my face against the cloth, felt the heat within, smelled a not unpleasant muskiness. As I pressed my lips against the cloth, feeling his cock underneath, he made a sound almost like purring. I helped him to step out of the pants and briefly stopped to admire him. What a good-looking man, I thought again. Then I hooked two fingers over the waistband of his underwear and slowly slid them down, lifting the band in the center to make sure it cleared his stiffened cock. As I lowered them past his thighs and knees, his dick sprang toward me, a drop of precum glistening at the tip.
Not having sucked a guy before, I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. I knew what I liked, of course -- some of the women in my life had been pretty good at blow jobs, and Steve had just given me a lesson -- but I hesitated.
“Lie down by the fire,” I said.
Steve took a couple of steps back and lowered himself to the floor. I thought to myself, I might not know much about doing this, but I will do my best to please him and be guided by his reactions.
I lay down next to him, propped on one elbow, and leaned in for a kiss. He brought his hand to the back of my head and pressed me closer, darting his tongue between my lips. I broke the kiss and slid down so that I could lick his nipples. I flicked first one, then the other, two or three times each with my tongue, and he arched his back to push them deeper into my mouth. I sucked them, a little roughly, and heard him make that purring sound again. I brought my hands up to them, twisted them gently in my fingers, and he writhed in a pleasure.
I started kissing my way down his chest and stomach, lightly, sucking slightly as my lips pulled away. As I neared his straining cock I felt him move, trying to push it toward my mouth, but I deciced to make him wait. I slid down further, low enough to kiss the insides of his thighs. I pushed his legs slightly apart and leaned in close to his balls, which hung loosely. Pulling his legs apart still more, and lifting the knees slightly, I began licking the underside of the balls, gently at first, then more vigorously, and finally took one in my mouth. I discovered I liked this, and that he did, too. He squirmed a little, so I moved to the other ball and sucked that one for a few moments. Then, lifting his knees higher so that his feet rested on the floor, I pushed my tongue behind his balls as far as I could, detecting a faint taste of seawater and something else, that musky scent again. I licked upward, bathing his balls with my saliva, and then slowly let them fall back into place.
When I moved up a little his cock was swollen and twitching. I lowered my tongue to its base, and with one long slow movement licked along the underside all the way to the tip. I was answered with that purring sound again, so I made the same licking motion again and again, a little faster and more vigorously each time.
“Oh, God, please,” he said.
Grasping his cock firmly in my hand, I tilted it upward enough for me to lower my mouth on it: first the head, my tongue swirling the same way he’d done for me, and then down an inch or so. Back up toward the tip, sucking slightly, and tasting precum for the first time in my life. It was like nothing I’d ever tasted before; salty, heavy on the tongue, not at all unpleasant. I moved down again, a little farther this time, and Steve moaned. Again and again I moved up and down, testing my limit, seeing how much I could take in. At one point I started to gag, but I recovered quickly and kept going, faster. I felt Steve’s hands on the back of my head, and let him guide me. He started moving his hips, and I let him thrust as deep as he wanted until, with a strangled cry and a long shivering shudder, he came. A flood of thick, hot cum poured into my mouth, filling the space around his cock, spilling out between my lips.
“Don’t swallow,” he said.
I felt his hands under my arms; he pulled me upward and brought my face close to his own, and I felt his kiss, and his tongue probing for a taste of his own cum, and so I gave back to him what I had just been given. Then the kiss broke and he lay back, spent, and I lay back, too, my leg thrown over his, my hand carressing his half-deflated cock.
“How’d I do?” I asked.
“Terrible,” he said, then burst out laughing. “Worst goddam blowjob I ever had. Couldn’t you tell?”
I laughed, too.
We lay there for some time, getting up only to throw another log on the fire or fetch another blanket against the growing cold. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we lay there quietly staring at the fire. Finally we crawled off to bed, kissed goodnight -- a loving, tender kiss -- and went to sleep in each other’s arms.
When I opened my eyes the next morning the first thing I saw was Steve, propped up on one elbow, looking intently at me.
“I thought you’d never wake up,’ he said.
“Wow, I was really out,” I said.
“So was I, until about 10 minutes ago. Then I started having this sexual dream, and it was so intense it woke me up.”
“Really?” I asked. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, I was lying in bed with this hot guy -- we had spent the night together -- and we both had morning wood.”
His hand moved under the covers and felt for my cock.
“So I took hold of his dick and stroked it a few times to get it really hard,” he said, and I felt myself swelling with lust and anticipation. He slid under the covers and straddled my legs, his head right over my cock.
From underneath the covers I heard his muffled voice, “Then I did this.”
And suddenly his mouth was on my cock and without further preliminaries he started blowing me. He wasn’t rough, but he was determined, and in what seemed like seconds I was starting to come. My feet dug into the bed, my hands clutched the sheets, and with a writhing shudder I blasted. He milked me dry, caressing my balls and stroking the skin beneath them.
“Some dream,” I said.
He tossed the covers aside and moved upward. When his faced reached mine he kissed me, and I tasted my own cum. Then he moved up again, and soon his rock-hard cock was right in front of my mouth. I reached with my tongue and touched the tip of it, licking the slit and catching the drops of precum that appeared. I opened my mouth, and he slowly slipped himself in. I moved a little so I could open my throat fully, and let him push in deeper. This time the gag reflex didn’t come, and I was able to take in his whole gorgeous length, and then he was fucking my mouth, slowly and carefully, and I felt myself getting hard again, so while he thrust in and out I stroked myself. Barely two minutes passed before his moans told me he was coming, and I was getting close again, and then he growled and a hot blast of jizz hit the back of my throat, and then another, and a third, and a fourth, and then I came, too.
He stopped moving, eased his still-throbbing dick out of my mouth. He stroked its glistening length to get the last few drops of cum, which I caught on my fingers and gave him to lick. Then he collapsed by my side.
“Funny,” I said. “I had the same dream.”