tagGay MaleIt's All About Cock

It's All About Cock

byHartford©

The grass was a factor. Bunch of guys in the lounge, in a circle, more like a rectangle, two joints passing in opposite directions. Lots of kidding, idiocy, boredom, into which Alex says in his great voice, "Which one of us is most like a girl?"

The room quiets down. If anyone had else said it, it wouldn't have gone anywhere, but Alex said it and it holds the room. A few faces turn to me. I don't see faces turning to anyone else. A little coughing, guys looking at Alex and Alex says, solemnly, "Johnny what's your opinion?"

Noises of the snicker variety, a few. I get the feeling that some guys are nervous, uneasy, wish they were somewhere else, my feeling exactly. I'm taken aback that Alex asked me, smart of him, putting me on the spot when I'm on the spot already. It lures a person, dares you to join the game, even on your own terms. I say in my fake girl's voice,

"Definitely not you, Alex."

Laughs, though not from me and not from Alex who says, simply, "Then who, Johnny?"

"Well, I'm one possibility," I say in my own voice, thrilled by my dare. Who is this person?

"Let's see, Johnny, can you giggle like a girl?", Alex says. Now it's really quiet.

I'll play, call his bluff. Who the fuck does he think he is? This is one side of it. The other side is me calling my own bluff. I'm playing by ear.

"Do I have to, Alex?,"

Alex nods that I do have to. The guys are watching, not looking bored.

"I can't force a giggle, Alex. A giggle comes naturally to a person."

"You're right, Johnny. You'll show us your natural giggle when the time comes. I like that. So show us this. Can you walk like a girl and can you wiggle, if you can't giggle?"

A feeling, recently discovered, was washing over me, the feeling you get from taking in the expressions of people studying you. I never used to notice it. I would be engrossed in sizing up people I saw, but whatever impact I might be making on those sizing up me sailed right by. I don't know what changed it, but over the past month or so something had. I was attuned now as never before to the interested faces, and instead of it deepening my customary shyness, the shyness melted away. I had confidence. I had an attitude.

So, I walked like a girl, and I wiggled my bottom, I was wearing fairly tight jeans, and after I walked and wiggled, I talked like a girl, which I have a knack for, and that was a big hit. I got actual applause, which surprised and pleased me so much that I giggled. Alex took a vote on whether my giggle satisfied the requirement of being like a girl's. I'm proud to say my giggle matriculated but I would bet half the guys who voted didn't hear it in the general hubbub.

Anyway, ten minutes of kidding around and teasing and a tension is growing. The tension commands the room like Alex did when he started it all, and then Alex says in his casual way,

"So, Johnny, do you suck cock like a girl?"

How did I not know this was coming? I do know, and I'm ready.

"Well, I can't suck cock if I don't have lipstick on, Alex," I say, politely. I don't know how long getting a lipstick will take and it stuns me to realize I don't want the obstacle I've given them to be overly difficult. But a red lipstick is produced, two in fact, and I could only laugh, or have a heart attack. Billy holds a mirror for me he swiped from the john and I put on the lipstick while trying not to black out like a witless girl.

"Put some lipstick on your nipples, Johnny," Alex says. It sounds like an order.

"I have a shirt on Alex," I point out, a bit crossly.

"Take it off, honey," Alex says, sweetly.

I could do that, I tell myself.

I'm not sure what to think about "honey". I don't dislike it, and I like it better than being ordered, or do I? Oh, man, too much to think about. I take off my shirt and my tee shirt and instead of thinking about what is happening I stick to the experience guys of staring at me, bare to the waist. I put lipstick on my nipples for everyone's amusement or horniness or whatever. The joints, meanwhile, are going around in earnest but no one offers me a puff. I'm left out. How come? Don't they want the girl to get high? Are they afraid she'll bite their cocks?

- - -

"I think Johnny's ready. Here, Johnny." Alex has pushed a chair out and he's sitting in it, waiting. I look around the room, a glance. I prefer not to look at anyone so our eyes meet. I need to be as anonymous as I can so I act as if I were, which probably makes it more comfortable for most of them, as well, but not all of them. A few guys are brazen and did look me in the eye later on, if not then, and after a while I didn't mind it.I accepted the stares, and returned them.

There's a push on my shoulder, a soft push but a push. I don't look back. A couple of guys could have done it. I get the hint. I take a step, one step, but the step pushes me in its way, and the next thing I'm going to Alex in the dim, blue light, with guys all around watching, guys breathing but not saying anything, just watching me go. Alex smiles at me like I'm a honey.

"Hi, Johnny."

"Hi Alex." I forget to use my girl's voice but I'm where a girl is supposed to be, in front of him on my knees.

"Take it out, Johnny."

"Okay," I whisper. Alex has on chinos, with a loose lap that Alex's cock poles to a tent. "Did that for you, Johnnie," he says while I gape. "Stand up, Johnny, just for a minute. That's right. Now take off your pants and your underpants. We all want to see how pretty you are. Want to see your girl's ass."

I strip out of the clothes. I pose like an actor in an amphitheater, while guys look at me, see my cock, see my girl's ass which I make easier by turning for them, this way and that way, being a model more than an actor. It feels good doing it. Why not, I'm more attractive than any of them, I have nice legs and arms, nice torso, nice face, nice cock, too, and in the soft light you would see my clear, warm skin, nary a blemish, nary a hair that doesn't belong.

Barnes says, loudly, "How about silk stockings, guys? I got some red ones," and he holds up the red silk stockings, and guys cheer and howl, and then Barnes brings them.

"Here, Johnny. That lipstick was from me, too," he says, saying it with respect, and his whole manner is respectful, the way a guy is toward a girl he would like to fuck. I like the stockings and I like his manner all right, but do these guys realize I'm not a cocksucker by trade, do they know I never sucked a cock in my life, that I hardly ever thought about sucking cock. Don't get excited, I said hardly ever.

"That's enough, Johnny," Alex says.

He means, "get on with it!" I see why. His cock has the tent up higher now, giving it a good stretch. Alex is in a needful way.

- - - -

I drop the stockings and get back on my knees. I put both hands on the stiffness, watching myself do it, wrapping the chino folds around it, looking for the fly latch, pulling it down in the stretched cloth, pulling hard to get it over the hardness pushing the other way, and down it comes and the fly opens wide, showing Alex's white jockey shorts, all bulged by the cock. I look up for encouragement, and Alex smiles, showing me his patience and his appreciation, and I pout at him because he shouldn't be appreciating yet, he doesn't have his cock sucked yet. Then he does. I extract the cock from his underpants and keep it in my right while I move my head and my open mouth.

The cock glides between my lips, over my tongue, and I suck. My head bobs like a girl's, except I don't have long curls to swirl and have fall over my face. I thought I didn't know how to suck cock but it comes easily, like I'm a natural, a cock sucking prodigy, and I'm finding this out only now when I'm twenty years old, so many lost years of cock loving behind me, alas. Forget it, what about the years in front of me. I enter a kind of nirvana, the cock and me. I'm vaguely aware of being in a crowded space, of cameras, guys saying things, silences, and I'm keenly aware only of the cock. I need for it to cum, which I know it needs, that it's what I'm there for, the purpose of my existence, and then it does, a hot explosion in my mouth, in my throat, one blast after the other, and I'm gulping it down but then my mouth pulls back because of all cum and no air and the hot spurts hit my face, cum in my eyes, cum in my nostrils. Oh, man!

- - - -

"Well, now," Alex hums in a little while.

I smile at him. I'm ready for some appreciation now. I wipe my face with my undershirt.

"We're done," Alex says, hurting my feelings by the abruptness. But we were done, he was right, and fifteen guys are waiting to have their cocks sucked, if they all do. They all don't. Guys are too embarrassed or disgusted or whatever, but six want it.

- - - -

So I sucked their cocks and made them cum, all six. They were guys I hardly knew, the first four, guys you would see around, maybe nod hello, names you might not remember, and they were easier than the last two guys who I did know, hanged around with sometimes when we were part of a larger group, guys you thought of as second tier friends. I sucked off Baylor first. His eyes were hard like his cock. He called me a fagot, sneered, insulted me, but his cock was hot for my mouth, no doubt about it. I sucked away, almost enjoying the taunts.Once, when he snickered I gave his cock a long upward lick while I looked up at him with my wide, blue eyes. I made him cum.

In one night, one hour, I went from being no fag at all to being the biggest fag on campus. Oh, yeah.

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