Bisexual Journey Ch. 02

"Wow!" He said.

I smiled with relief and joy. "Did you like it? Another guy sucking you off?"

"You kidding? That was fantastic! I don't think I have ever cum that hard in my life."

"Or maybe as much. You gave me a mighty load."

"What does it taste like? Salty?"

"Not so much. Hard to describe. A little salt, a little acid, a little sweetness. More of a mineral taste. Rich and thick. Maleness. Extremely sexy. And entirely you. You taste very, very good."

"I guess I will find out."

"You will. In due course. Of sucking my cock to give me pleasure, knowing I am about to cum, and you wanting just that in your mouth, to taste and swallow. To complete the circle of giving and receiving."

He stared into my eyes as I said that, with the rapt attention of a child hearing an adult tell an enchanting story. Imagining, identifying, becoming a part of the picture. In a fantasy land he had never glimpsed before. With no thought of getting the hell out of Dodge. His cock sprang erect in my hand, as hard and large as it had been in my mouth, declaring that at that moment, that night on my bed, his discovering the miracle of sex with me was all there was in his mind, in the world. I had never seen such instant recovery, and I was amazed.

"I want to return the favor now."

"Not a favor," I said. "Open your mind wider. You were curious and wanted to learn what it is all about. You are learning. Think of now as the opportunity of a life time. We are alone and no one else will ever know. You can let go completely. Allow yourself to worship and adore my cock with your mouth because you want to and need to. Let go and submit to your desire. To give me that honor and ultra sweet pleasure."

I realized my philosophical-poetics of the underlying meaning and purpose of sucking cock could have sounded a bit over the top to third party ears. But no third party was with us. I was speaking to Bryan, instructing and still very much seducing. Shaping his mind. And I was more than surprised that my seduction had taken such speedy and gigantic steps, in almost seamless progression. His pre-existing curiosity was far deeper and broader than he dared to admit before, and there was no question his bisexual fantasies had often seized his imagination. I was giving him release to experience and know.

And I was also coming to final terms with myself. Preparing him with my poetry of cock sucking was also my talking to myself, tying up long dangling loose ends, a consolidation of meaning. The desire, the purpose, the fruition. What I had learned with Andy was scattered promise and potential. That night with Bryan, the true purpose of sucking cock was etched in my consciousness for ever lasting clarity of understanding.

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Kneel between my legs." He did at once, docile and compliant. "It will be easier for you this way. It will also enhance the ceremony, on your knees before me, submitting to your desire to love and adore my cock, to experience and know. Fully and completely."

"Ceremony" was the perfect word. It fell on him like an aura, dispelling all fear and doubt, opening his mind to his rite of passage, making it perfectly right. "Ceremony" offered so much mental imagery he didn't know where to begin. He held my straining cock loosely in his fingers and gazed at it. He licked the head and pulled back to evaluate, like an artist would study his last paint stroke of highlight on a portrait. He buried his nose in my crotch and inhaled deeply. He was acting on all my suggestive mental preparation, perfectly right in rite of passage. When pre-cum bubbled from the slit, he lapped it up with his tongue tip.

"The taste of man," I said. "You like it?"

"I do. It has a sort of sweet taste. I like it."

"There's more to come. Much more."

The promise, the inevitability of his mouth and ceremonial loving extracting "much more" cum pushed him over the edge. He opened his mouth wide to suck the large head. He sucked with purpose, dedication, adoration, to give me pleasure. It wasn't easy. His jaw hinges began to ache, he struggled to find breathing patterns through his nose, or alternately through his mouth gaped a fraction wider. But he was determined, and propelled by his rite of passage.

"Oh baby, your mouth feels so damn good. You are doing it baby. You are giving me the sweetest pleasure there is. You are sucking my cock." I raked my fingers through his hair and tenderly fondled his ears. At that moment I felt pure love for him.

He had to come up and gasp air a few times, wiggle his lower jaw, but he quickly returned to his dedicated purpose, gradually finding ease of the strain, accommodation of the demanding volume that filled his mouth. A couple of times his teeth raked the tender skin, but not painfully so.

"I'm feeling it baby. I'm about to shoot. Be ready."

He sucked me with expectant intent far away from ceremony. Ready to experience this opportunity of a life time. He sucked so earnestly tears leaked from the corners of his tightly clinched eye lids.

"Here it comes!"

I exploded into his mouth. He coughed and sprayed seamen on my pubes, but he instantly regained control and swallowed all the rest I could pump into him. Swallowing quickly, in rhythm with necessity. His swallowing gulps were so audible I could have heard them in the other room. I ejaculated all I had. He drank it down.

Can the full scope of orgasm, the release and almost unbearable pleasure, really be described? It really can't. I flopped back on the bed, literally spent. My cock slipped from his mouth, and he gazed at it, breathing heavily, like a marathon runner who's chest snapped the finish tape, concluding his rite of passage. His face had an other worldly glow as he gazed at my cock, connecting it with what he had done, knowing, understanding. My erection did spasms, and aftermath cum, as an afterthought, bubbled up and out. The glob in its precarious balance had the lustrous sheen of a large misshapen pearl.

"Can't waste a drop," Bryan said, and pursed his lips to capture and smack and taste. I was deeply touched by his spontaneity to not waste a drop. What an enormous leap he had made, from the moment he called me to learn what it was all about, to giving my last cum drops such value!

We arranged ourselves on the bed, heads on pillows. He snuggled to me, nose at my neck.

"I did it," he said. "I sucked a cock." He said that with a clear tone of pride, accomplishment and deep satisfaction.

"Tell me what you are feeling right now, in your mind, in your body."

He hummed, gathering his thoughts. "So very strange," he finally said. "It was everything you said it would be. It really can't be imagined. It has to be done. I swallowed your cum."

"You sure did my lover." My right arm was draped over his chest, and I squeezed him.

"When you were about to cum, I knew it. It was the strangest excitement I've ever had. Knowing it would spurt out but not knowing exactly when. Then suddenly my mouth was full before the sensation of it hitting my tongue even registered. What is equally strange, I can actually feel your cum like a puddle lying in my stomach, and it is like some kind of super tonic. I feel clean and energized. My head is clear. So very strange."

"That is exactly what it feels like. I know. I believe you are a natural bisexual." That snapped me to a sudden detached view of us lying naked on my bed, my cum an invigorating tonic in his stomach. It had to be less than two hours since he had knocked on my door. "We made love, baby. We had man sex. And this is strictly for us alone. No one else can ever know or even suspect. It has to be that way."

"For sure," he said, and snuggled closer to me, and after a short while his breathing had the see-saw pattern of blissful sleep.