For the Love of Cock

Literotica is such an excellent site for writers to tell their story, whether it be fiction, non-fiction or somewhere in between.

For some it is the sheer pleasure of expressing thoughts and for others it is telling a story that they can't tell even their partner or best friend. I'm in the latter category; I'm male, married and adore cock.

When I turned nineteen, the adoration was limited to quick peeks in gym shower rooms. Of my three best friends, I felt attracted to Barry's cock, but the fear of being thought of as gay prevented anything other than quick glances.

In my twenties, I dated several different females and experienced no sexual attraction to males.

I fell deeply in love with my present wife and our sex life was awesome, until the arrival of kids. Sex didn't entirely disappear, but work and family life changed the dynamics and although our passion remained high, the frequency took a nose-dive.

All the kids I grew up with also married and unfortunately, my best friend Barry moved with his wife to the other end of the province. We saw each other twice a year and that dwindled down to one and then sometimes once every two or three years.

The kids grew up, got jobs, moved out and found partners of their own. It took a bit of time to go from a busy household to empty nesters and my wife was hit with menopause and hot flashes. Along with that came a complete lack of desire for sex.

I loved pleasuring my wife sexually and I missed the sight of her in total sexual bliss, writhing as her body was wracked with multiple orgasms. Although our sex life had ebbed and flowed during the years there was one constant, a blow job on my birthday. Not only a blow job, but a blow job all the way, letting me cum in her mouth.

Although I have no idea what a female orgasm feels like, a female has no idea what it is like to have your cock sucked and to spurt into a mouth. I understand that the taste and texture of semen may not be pleasant to most and that a blow job can still be great without cumming in a mouth, but there is something very special about my wife swallowing, even though she finds it less than appealing.

I don't know if it is one thing, or a combination of several things, but in my fifties, every now and then, thoughts of sucking a cock would cross my mind. I seldom watched porn, but my porn watching changed from lesbian, to guy and girl having intercourse, to girl sucking guy and then to guys sucking other guys.

On the occasions that my wife did go down on me, I would imagine being her, wondering how it felt to have a cock in my mouth. Did it feel hot, smooth, sexy, submissive; my mind went in a thousand directions.

Once, when she let me cum in her mouth, I guided her up, pressed my lips to hers and slid my tongue into her mouth. The scent of my semen was powerful and it tasted like the smell. Not exactly a great description, but how do you adequately describe a taste, especially the taste of semen. For me, it was naughty and surprisingly, arousing.

The lack of sex led to an increase in masturbation and while masturbating I promised that I would taste my cum, but after spurting that desire quickly disappeared. But on occasion, I would swipe some with my finger and taste it.

It was gross; the taste and the texture weren't appealing, but the next time masturbating I would make the same promise.

During the past few years, Barry and I spoke a few times on the phone and about once a week would exchange short texts. His marriage was on shaky ground and finally ended in separation and divorce.

He was an accountant, planned on retiring, working freelance and move back home. My wife and I offered a room for him, while he got the lay of the land and decided on whether he would rent or own.

Barry took our offer and we greeted him with open arms. He had kept in shape and his broad shoulders and muscular arms showed he was familiar with the gym and weight training. He was six feet tall and his brown hair reached down to the tip of his collar.

I was as tall as he was, my hair was dark blonde and a bit shorter than his. My shoulders were just as broad as his, but in an arm wrestle he would win, hands down.

Note: Quotes will be used and although some are true to memory, some are best guess as to what was actually said.

My wife and I were recently retired and while I spent hours water coloring, she spent hours volunteering. Barry picked up a few clients and spent a few hours a day at home on his laptop.

After a week, we had adjusted to each other and Barry and I started a ten o'clock routine of a coffee and a chat. We talked about anything and everything. From sports, to politics, religion, global warming, kids, marriage and sex.

"I can count on one hand... make that two hands, the number of times I masturbated during my married years," Barry said. "Now I do it almost every day."

I laughed. "It comes full circle. Beat off as a teen, sex until menopause and then back to stroking."

He rolled his eyes in agreement and we finished our coffees. I went to my studio and he went to the dining room table and his laptop.

I wondered if he masturbated after moving in with my wife and I, and if his cock was as sexy as I remembered it to be.

There had been occasions when I had thought of hooking up with a guy to suck his cock, but STDs and HIV prevented me from going through with it.

Barry never mentioned any extramarital affairs so I assumed I could suck him without the fear of catching anything nasty.

Several weeks went by and Barry purchased a condo, but the move-in date wasn't for a month and a half. Our morning coffee routine was soon to come to an end.

"Hope you don't mind a personal question, but do you and Heather still have sex?" Barry asked.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Yes, but its few and far between."

He nodded. "What a shame and unfortunately, not uncommon."

"Tell me about," I said.

"I really miss sex, but even more I would give my left arm for a good blow job."

I laughed. "Is there such a thing as a bad blow job?"

A smirk lit up his face. "No, I suppose not."

"Would you let a guy suck your cock?" I asked.

His immediate response was, "No!" After a few moments he laughed. "Why? You offering?"

I paused and felt a warm rush flush over my cheeks. "Uhm, no."

We sat in silence for a few moments and then he thanked me for the coffee and went to the dining room.

While painting, I kicked myself for not saying - 'Barry, I'm not gay but I've been having the strongest of urges to suck a cock. I've imagined your cock a thousand times and would love to suck you.'

By now my cock was as stiff as a board and I released it from my pants, stroked it and watched rope after rope of semen splash onto the basement floor.

At nine the next morning, Heather had left for the day and as ten approached I began to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Earlier, Barry had gone to the bakery and purchased six cinnamon rolls. They were a welcome addition to our coffee ritual.

Ten minutes into our coffee break, I'd built up the courage to say, "I haven't said this to anybody, but every now and then I get this incredible urge to find out what sucking a cock is like."

I looked for a reaction from Barry, but like an expert poker player, he remained expressionless.

I continued, "I'm not sexually attracted to guys, I love breasts, hips and a round ass. I've no idea why the thought of sucking a guy is so arousing."

"I've never thought of a guy sucking me," Barry said. "But, I've read alot of so-called true stories about married, hetero guys that in mid-life have fantasy thoughts of gay sex."

I sipped my coffee. "Some of those stories may be true, because I'm one of them."

"Is it thoughts only, or have you done it?" Barry asked.

I raised three fingers in the air. "Promise, I've never done it for real."

"If it's gay to suck a cock, it's gay to let another guy suck you," Barry said.

It was either now or never. "I'd love to be gay with you."

He still had that poker face and I couldn't read him.

Finally he said, "I really miss lips on my cock. If you pull it out, it's yours."

This was it; the moment of truth. Everything up until now had been safe, a fantasy tucked away in a personal pocket for my eyes only. Now, my secret thoughts had been revealed and could I actually cross that line to prove, or disprove those incredibly erotic thoughts.

"I've started a new painting, would you like to see it?"

He dropped his poker face, not hiding the fact that he knew it wasn't the painting we were going to see.

I did show him the painting and then turned to face him. "Do you think less of me for wanting to do this?"

"No," he said. "I respect your honesty and your trust in me."

Slowly, my hands went to his belt, unbuckling it and then unsnapping his pants. While unzipping his pants, I felt a heat radiating from him and a bulge that showed his semi-arousal. His pants fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them.

My fingers touched the elastic band of his boxers and his fingers slid up my arms and to my shoulders. His touch was light and the direction clear; kneel.

My knees touched the floor and his bulge made me draw in a deep breath. I practiced yoga and mediation and that feeling of being in the moment washed over me.

My fingers slipped inside the band of his boxers and slid them down his warm, soft skin. His pubic hair appeared first; brown, thick and curly. I breathed in a hint of fresh soap and a manly scent, uniquely his.

The base of his cock showed and then an inch of his maleness, soft and thick around. More and more of his shaft appeared and then the head of his cock. I remember it to be thick and full and up close it was beyond perfect. His pee slit treated me with a shimmering drop of precum.

A sound escaped my lips when his ball sac was uncovered. It was full around, with oval bulges on the left and right sides. A shiver rushed through me with the thought of the sperm contained within them; Barry's essence.

His boxers dropped down and he stepped out of them, causing his cock to wiggle slightly. It drooped to the side, more than semi-hard and mouthwatering delicious.

My whole world stood before me and all thoughts vanished from my mind. I didn't think of brushing my cheek over the side of his cock, I just did it. Later I would ask myself why, but now the urge was to rub one cheek and then the other over his cock.

I nuzzled my nose into his pubic hair, drawing in his scent and kissing his ball sac.

My cock had been hard, but it began to deflate and while it did, Barry's cock pulsed into full hardness.

Sometimes, truths just blurt out, like this one..."I've waited my whole life to do this," I said.

I gripped the base of his cock, kissing and licking my way to the top. Some of his precum was on my face and now a full drop was at my lips. The tip of my tongue captured it and the taste was sweeter than peach nectar.

My lips slid down and the whole head of his cock was in my mouth. My eyes closed and my hands slid up his legs, stopping as they covered the cheeks of his bottom. I savored the moments that past, not sure if it was seconds or minutes. I never felt so complete.

I had to open my eyes. I had to look up and hope that he was looking down on me.

While my eyes were closed, the feeling was dream like, but with them open, reality set in. His brown eyes were sparkling and looking at my grey-blue eyes. If they could speak they would have said...'Barry, I love your cock in my mouth.'

His right hand caressed my cheek. "Mmmm, baby. Suck my cock."

Referring to me as baby caused my heart to flutter. I wanted to be his baby. I wanted all of his cock in my mouth and as I closed my eyes, I imagined him in my ass as well.

My lips were moist and my tongue flicked the underside of his cock head. His cock twitched, displaying his arousal and I felt so proud that I was doing that to him.

My lips slid down an inch, his skin as smooth as silk and so deliciously warm. I didn't just like this, I loved the feeling of fullness, his thickness and so much more of his length.

His hips began a slow thrust, just as I had done to my wife so many times before. His thrusts were gentle, bringing the tip of his cock to my lips and then going past the head and an inch more.

My best friend was fucking my mouth and I was loving it.

My tongue curled as he moved in my mouth, his speed quickening and his insertion deepening. I wanted him to cum, but not cum too soon. I tightened my hands on his cheeks and then his hips until he stilled.

Three quarters of his cock was in my mouth and I wanted it to be still and savour it to its fullest. The power emanating from it was almost overwhelming. It ruled over me and the only thing I wanted to do was to please it and by extension, him.

His voice sounded a thousand miles away, but as clear as a bell. "Suck me, suck me, baby."

'Yes darling,' I thought. Terms of endearment that I had used on my wife were now being passed from my best friend to me and then back.

I gagged slightly, trying to take all of him in my mouth.

I was suckling, sucking on my first cock.

"Oh....yeah....fuck...."

"Mmmm," I sighed. Sucking him and licking along his shaft. Tasting his skin and his sweet offerings of precum.

"Fuck, that's so good....uhmm....mmmm."

My cock was still soft and I was either dripping pee or precum. It didn't matter, I was fulfilling my dream, becoming who I was meant to be.

Barry's fingers slid through my hair and his hip motion began again.

I signaled him to stop by pressing my hands to his hips.

"No, no. I can't stop."

I eased my pressure on his hips and he began quicker and longer thrusts. He was fucking my mouth and the animal lust in him began to take over. My mouth was a warm, wet cavity for his cock and he was going to thrust until his seed spurted out of him and into me.

There was a choice. Move my head and body away from him, or submit to his manly need to conquer.

There really was no choice; my mind and body wanted this and I floated in complete surrender. In that moment, I became his. I was where I wanted to be; at his mercy and his control.

He thrust deep and deeper, causing me to gag and tears to flow. My hands moved with each thrust and his breathing became erratic and deep.

"You're mine.....mine."

He held my head and held still. Each grunt was accompanied with a spurt.

His semen was filling my mouth and I didn't want to spill a drop.

His cheeks tightened with each spurt, which were now coming at longer intervals.

"Oh, fuck. That was so good," he said and began to withdraw.

I whimpered and held him tight, keeping his cock in my mouth.

I looked up to him, vision blurred through the wetness.

He smiled down at me. "That cannot be your first cock,"

I nodded, yes.

He stroked my hair while his cock deflated in my mouth.

Enough time had passed for his cock head to lose its ultra-sensitivity and I swirled my tongue around it.

He squeezed along the length of his cock, depositing the final rich drop of his essence onto my tongue.

His cock slipped out and I hugged my cheek to him. I had swallowed some, and now I swallowed the rest.

I cupped his balls, letting them roll between my fingers.

"Kiss them."

I didn't have to be told twice.

Our roles were now established. My surrender and submission were complete.

"I almost had to beg my ex for a blow job and half the time she said no," Barry said. He continued. "I definitely won't beg and I don't ever want to hear you say no."

My tongue licked one ball and then the other, followed with a kiss to each.

"I love your cock too much to say no."

I love Barry as a friend, but we don't consider ourselves as romantic lovers. I crave his cock all the time and sometimes that craving is beyond words. I haven't said no to him and doubt I ever will.