Emma & Barry

I put my hand on his lap and found, surprise surprise, that he was hard. I learned an important lesson then. No matter what the other circumstances are, no man can refuse a direct offer of a blow-job.

He pulled down his pants and freed the monster. I got on my knees before him. Barry leaned back, no longer bothering to protest.

Before me was my first cock. I know I had come off as flip and non-chalant, but inside I was in a turmoil. I was turned on, to be sure, but also a little scared. There was a weird emotional thing going on, too. Here was the man I'd been with for so long, who I'd loved, who I'd seriously thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, who had deceived and betrayed me. I was angry, horny, still in love, frightened and a dozen other feelings I couldn't even put a name to, all mixed up together. I tried to push all this aside, and just remember the lessons I'd been taught.

"You have literally love cock to give a great BJ," Barry had told me. This is mind, I just held his cock and examined every gorgeous inch of it for a little while. I had never seen one this close up before, and it was fascinating. The skin was browner than the rest of Barry's body, like his cock wasn't even really part of him, just some weird thing grafted on. I ran my fingers lightly over it, grooving on the textures. The loose skin, the ridges and veins, the sandy hair, the heavy testicles. Terry's cock had sort of a bulging head, but Barry's was tapered, almost like a candle. I inhaled the musky scent, and began to kiss and lick lightly up and down the shaft, tasting salt and tang. There was a pearly bead of what Barry had called pre-cum on the tip and I cautiously kissed it away. I was surprised at the flavor, savory and rich, not salty as I'd always heard.

By this time I'd forgotten that Barry even existed. In the whole world, there was only me and this great cock. I licked my lips, then pursed them tightly over the head, so the cock literally penetrated my mouth. I sucked hard and ran my tongue all around the fat bulb. The cock swelled and tensed, tried to snake its way deeper into my mouth. I grasped it tight in my hand, wanting to control it, show it who was boss. The cock was insistent, though. I allowed a few inches in, only to teasingly withdraw completely. I ran my hand up and down the shaft, slick with my own saliva, and the cock stood up straight and proud.

Again I took it into my mouth and this time the cock behaved. It obeyed the silent commands of my mouth, did whatever I told it to do. I was thrilled at the power I had over the cock and, as a reward for its obedience, I let it in deeper. I went a little crazy, letting the cock fuck my mouth for a few frantic seconds, before pulling away again. My hand primed the pump while my lips moved down to explore. I kissed the wrinkled sac with its hidden jewels all the way down to the base and, not believing my own daring, actually licked the darkness I found below. The tight little hole tensed around my tongue when I penetrated it.

I switched then, taking the cock back in my mouth and letting my hand explore the nether regions. I slid a finger into the hole, and then two. The cock lunged forward. I tried to take it all the way into my throat, but my appalled gag reflex protested and I had to back off.

This went on for a while, my mouth wrapped around the cock, alternating slow and fast, hard and soft, deep and shallow, tongue and lips. My hands were both busy, one stroking the shaft and the balls, the other one buried to the knuckles in asshole.

I felt hands in my hair and, weirdly, I had to think about whose they might be.

"I'm going to cum," I heard a gentle voice say.

"Cum," I commanded, although with my mouth full, it came out like "Um." The vibrations from this humming sound were enough to trip the wires. From the deep well, his essence was pumped into my mouth.

Barry's semen was thin and watery. I've of course had other guys come in my mouth since then, but that was the first time and I thought that's just what it was like. I was bitterly disappointed to later find that most guys ejaculated thick curdish snotty stuff, after my first taste of Barry's liquid musk. It was delicious. Ambrosial was the word Barry used, and it was apt. If all semen tasted like Barry's, you could sell it for a hundred dollars a bottle. I had been planning on kissing Barry and sharing his come with him, but I greedily swallowed every precious drop.

I released the cock from my jaws, and smiled up at its owner. Barry smiled back down at me.

"Not bad for a first time," he teased. "I give you a 'B.'"

"'B?'" I said.

"OK," he conceded. "B+"

Asshole.

Over the next week or so, I must have given Barry a dozen blow-jobs. I know I was getting good at it, too. He still tried to protest, but caved so quickly that I knew this was just a sham. He complained that he sometimes didn't have enough energy for when Terry got home, and that Terry was starting to complain. Boo-fucking-hoo.

Constant fellatio was stimulating for me, but hardly fulfilling. I still had to get myself off. This was part of my plan, to build up Barry's orgasm debt towards me until he couldn't deny he owed me.

About a week later, I sprung my trap. We were on the living room couch, a muted porno playing, Barry's cock primed and ready for me. "You know," I said, after I'd sucked him into a steely hard-on, "we are violating your tenth commandment."

"Which one was that?" Barry said absently. He put his hand on the back of my head and gently tried to pull it back down on his cock. I don't even think he realized he was doing it.

"'Don't ever suck off someone unwilling to return the favor,'" I quoted.

Barry looked at me, aghast. "Emma, Jesus!"

"I know better than to expect a gay guy to eat my pussy," I said.

"That is disgusting!"

"You could fuck me, though."

"No, Emma," he said. "That's too much."

"Well, this isn't fair," I said, grabbing his cock to illustrate my point. "I'm not getting anything out of this."

"Emma, for the last time, I'm a ho-mo-sex-u-al." He pronounced the word distinctly, emphasizing each syllable.

"So you can take me from behind, what's the difference?"

"The difference is, you're a girl."

"I bet my pussy's tighter than Terry's asshole," I said. "After all, I am a virgin."

Barry's cock actually twitched when I said that. I knew I had him.

"Haven't you ever wondered what the fuss was about?" I prodded. "How can you truly call yourself a ho-mo-sex-u-al until you've tried the alternative and found it not to your liking?"

This went back and forth for a few minutes, but Barry's excuses grew lamer and his cock kept getting harder. Finally, he conceded. He didn't want to do anything in Terry's bed, finding that to be too blatant a betrayal. So I peeled off my pants and bent over the arm of the couch. Barry stood behind me, not doing anything for several agonizing seconds.

I tried not to brace myself, to instead relax. I tried not to think of the significance of what was about to happen. I was about to be deflowered. About goddamn time, in my opinion, but it was still a major life moment, and those always brought measure of anxiety. I was just thinking that Barry better hurry the hell up and get it over with, when all of the sudden he did.

I felt him poke and prod around back there, searching for entry. I later learned that even straight guys can't find the hole unless you draw them a map, so I guess it wasn't surprising that a gay man would have difficulty. But when he found it, that was it. Maybe it was him being a little off-balance from the awkward posture we were in, or maybe it was just his style, but he rammed that fucking thing home. In one instant, my virgin cunt was filled with eight inches of rock hard throbbing dick.

I cried out. In the course of my experimentations, I had inserted various and sundry objects into my vagina, some of them nearly as large as Barry's prick. But there was something undeniably different about a real, live cock. It hurt, but the pain was exquisite. A pressure had been building in me, too slowly to be noticed, for my entire life, and when Barry pounded into me, that pressure was relieved all at once. There was a place deep inside where I had never been touched until that precise moment, a place where nothing I had taken in before had ever reached. I guess you could say I had an orgasm then, but it was more like The Orgasm, the first in my life not by my own hand, a Big Bang from which entire new galaxies were formed.

I almost pitched forward and fell onto the couch, but I managed to brace myself with my arm and, bravely, pushed back to meet Barry's thrusts. They were strong, but not frantic. Slow and steady he drove himself into me. Each gliding lunge sent electric waves through me, a new pressure building. I was so wet I squished, and all I could smell was sex. I wanted Barry to go faster and, as if by telepathy, he obeyed. I moved with him. We were a one-minded pumping, fucking thing. Harder, seemingly deeper, his cock burrowed in. Over and over, the head tickled my womb, or so it felt. I felt the flush start there and spread through my blood throughout my entire body until it flooded my brain with icy heat. I was coming again, even harder, and my pussy contracted so tight around Barry that he was, for a few ethereal seconds, completely unable to pull out of me.

I screamed. I literally screamed.

Barry slid out of me with a pop. I felt his hand on me, spreading the dripping fluid from my pussy up and into my ass. I think he spat on his hand, too, and then worked one saliva-coated finger into my asshole.

I knew what he was doing, of course, but I was still recovering from my last orgasm and so was unable to prepare for it. Good thing, too, because if I had been capable of any kind of thought in that second, I might have tensed up.

Just as abruptly as he had filled my cunt, Barry drove his monster into my ass.

I should have known, I should have expected, that the buttfucker would want to fuck my butt. I cried out again. Tears were literally flowing from my face. Every sensation I had felt when he was screwing my pussy was both more intense and duller, if that makes sense, now that he was in my ass. I was filled. Stuffed. Again, pain or something close to pain that was a kind of pleasure, only dark pleasure. I don't know if there's even a word for it. Anyway, it didn't last long. I could actually feel Barry shooting off inside me, semen drenching my rectal walls. I would have thought such a thing impossible, but this feeling threw me over the edge yet again. I came. This anal orgasm was, like the rest of the feelings back there, both harder and duller.

Barry pulled out. Neither of us spoke. We went into separate bathrooms to clean ourselves up. Another thing I learned that day was the anal sex could be messy in unspeakable ways.

After that day, we fucked a few more times, but it was never as black-magical as that first time. Barry started whining that he was getting confused about his sexuality, and I was beginning for the first time to get annoyed at his "faggish" ways. When Terry finally caught us in the act, it came almost as a relief for both of us. Well, for me anyway.

That was the end of it, of course. Barry and Terry split up. Barry blamed me and we never spoke again. That was all right, though. I got what I wanted. I was in no way a virgin anymore. I even got a little revenge, busting up the relationship that had busted up mine.

In the years that followed, I went a little cock-crazy, making up for lost time. Eventually, I switched teams and went a little cunt-crazy, as it were. Those are, however, stories for another day.