Dream About Sucking Your Own Cock?

It was! Because his deep hums felt more arousing; because they suggested that he was enjoying what he was doing so much; because his bigger, male finger felt more arousing? It did, but it all came together, and I came better than I had anticipated that I could: great, long spurts that he received with deep moans.

A man's sucking my cock shouldn't be better than what a woman could do. Maybe it wasn't, but for those few seconds, nothing could have felt more arousing. Or maybe it should be better, since he knew exactly what it was feeling like for me? I hoped it would be just as good for him - and for me, as it just had been for him. He was still humming, as his tongue slathered my semen around in his mouth.

His finger slipped away, and then my cock slipped slowly from between his lips. Before he could raise his head, I murmured:

"Don't look up. That was just too good."

He didn't, just nodding and replying softly:

"It was."

He stood up. I only looked at his aroused cock, and we changed places without looking at each other's face.

We did it all again - I did: sucking one of his balls - remembering to hum - and then his cock, and then his other ball and finding his asshole, licking my finger and finding it again, and the purple plum of his cock with my mouth. When he filled my mouth with his semen, I hoped that mine had been just as much for him.

When I let his cock slip from my mouth, he murmured:

"I hope it was as good for you."

"Both ways."

"Um-hmm."

I stood up, and we finally ventured to look at each other, both with very wry smiles, snorting. I murmured:

"I guess we are a little bi."

"Hmm, maybe more than just a little, but not without their help."

"Hm-hmm! No. Aren't all other men curious, just don't have them to encourage them?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Me too."

We smiled wryly again. He nodded towards his laptop. We snorted and sat at the desk. He had too many emails to even begin reading them. My few weren't worth bothering with. He suggested that we try to find the latest news to tell when we joined the others. Chuckling, we found items of US and European news, and he turned off his laptop.

We glanced at each other, but neither of us suggested we go find the others. I murmured:

"We'll never do it again."

"Not like that."

Had he meant that we should do it the other way, making it feel like we were sucking our own cocks?! That had been good, but again? I smiled wryly, and he did, and then - before I realized how he could understand it - I agreed:

"Not like that."

Had he meant it that way, or had he inferred that I had? After a moment, he murmured:

"Never do that again either, ... be able to do that again."

"Suck my own cock?" I replied, then recognizing that I had said what I was thinking.

He snorted with a slight nod. I asked involuntarily:

"You want to?"

Never get another chance, ... if you want to."

I guess that I must have nodded. We did, this time with no hesitations: our fingers back where they had been, like they had been; and sucking each other's cock, making it feel like we were sucking our own - better and for longer than we had before. Better; almost as good as Anna had sucked them both, deeper than we had before. Longer than before, because it took longer for us to come again.

We rolled apart. He probably swallowed like I did. We both snorted. I murmured:

"Never again."

"Never again, but I'm glad we did."

"Um-hmm, but don't tell anyone."

"Don't need to tell them."

"No, they already know."

We snorted again and got up, again hardly looking at each other, also as we went in the washbasin and washed our cocks. Then we did exchange wry smiles and left his room.

We found Marge and Anna with the other Americans from our group.

"So many emails?" Marge asked with neutral expression.

"Too many," Sans replied, adding: "spent some time catching up on the news."

"Anything special?"

"Not really."

He and I told what we had found. Our worries about questions of what we had done were unfounded, and we joined in their conversation about our trip home. When someone asked how Anna was returning, and she replied that Sans was taking her to Paris to catch a train back to Germany, there were some knowing smiles, but they just deflected from any possible thoughts about Sans and me.

The group separated before dinnertime, agreeing to meet again then. When we were alone, Marge and Anna did, of course, smirk at us, and Anna asked if we had a had a good nap. He and I glanced at each other, this time with normal smiles, nodding. He smirked at her and replied:

"Two."

"Three," I corrected.

"More like four," he rejoined.

"Oooh, like that, too," she replied.

He and I just nodded, returning her smirk.

"Last chance; didn't want to miss a lick."

I blushed at my so spontaneous and just too appropriate remark.

They laughed, looking at me, which didn't help my blushing. Sans came to my rescue, agreeing:

"We didn't, as Anna surmised, ... that way too."

We all then just snickered with smiles. Marge remarked:

"You two! Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed it, and we can understand why, since we do, and like to do it with each other."

"And we still like to do it with you both too," Sans replied.

I nodded vigorously. The others also nodded with smiles. After a moment, Anna smirked and murmured:

"Good thing that we still have time for you to show us."

We all chuckled, nodding again. Apparently, Sans agreed with me that we didn't have to promise that we would. We returned to our room so that Anna and Marge could use the bathroom and freshen up after their afternoon in the sun.

While Sans and I waited for them, I couldn't help but glance at his cock. Looked about like all the others I had seen here and last year, mine too. I glanced down at it, and then saw that he also had. We exchanged wry smiles again.

"Yes, we did," he said quietly.

"Um-hmm," I agreed.

We nodded and didn't say more, but I was more aware of my cock, feeling it hanging a little more loosely. I didn't glance to check, but did at his, thinking that his also was.

The women returned. The sight of them obliterated thoughts about him and what we had done. Two naked young - for a man my age - women were a pleasure to behold, even though I had seen them so often, so continuously; but seeing them again, after a few moments apart, let me see them afresh.

Sans must have felt the same way. He remarked:

"I never told you that you both are very attractive."

They smiled. Marge replied:

"But you make us feel like we are."

"You are," I rejoined, wanting to show my agreement with him.

***

The title of this story came to me because I have dreamt about trying to suck my own cock. Of course, I couldn't, and have only fantasized here about what could happen if I asked another man if he had. I would be curious if any readers have had the same dream. No, I am not going proposition anyone!