On Loving Men Ch. 01

Animal-like noises escaped my throat as he thrust into me harder-and-harder. There was no pain—only sweet, indescribably delicious pleasure. I felt every nuance of his cock on the walls of my asshole. I groaned and babbled incoherently as the cum churned inside my balls. I pushed back hard against him reveling in the heat from his cock.

A steady moan came from deep within him. He fucked me hard with long jerking strokes: I knew he was getting close. His hips began to buck wildly as his cock expanded inside me. He screamed then I felt his scalding cum fill my asshole. I cried out when my own balls exploded and my cum shot out of my cock falling everywhere around us.

His limp prick slipped out of my asshole with a pop. His cum dribbled out of my hole and down my thighs. He told me to sit on the toilet and clean myself out.

His cum oozed from my hole into the toilet bowl. My degradation was complete—I begged a man to fuck me and I loved it. I even had an orgasm without being touched. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. All I knew was that it was a helluva lot better to be fucked than spanked.

That was the night I became convinced I was queer.

The next night The Old Man didn't even go through the pretense of inspecting my work. He just told me to come to his office when I was done.

He was naked when I got there. I stroked his thighs and cock and balls to get him hard. He loved it when I begged him to fuck me. His cock became super-hard when he heard my words. I orgasmed every time we fucked.

I worked six days a week. The restaurant was closed on Sundays. After he fucked me on Saturday night he gave me my paycheck and the extra twenty dollar bill. I was thrilled.

"You know, boy," he said. "You can earn an extra sixty dollars a week if you do something else for me."

I knew what he had on his mind but I wanted to hear him say it.

"If you want to suck my cock every day I'll give you an extra sixty a week," he said. He studied my reaction.

"I, ah...maybe," I said. "I'll think about it, is that alright?"

"Sure—sure," he said. "But if I give you the sixty, I'll want you in here before AND after work, understand me, boy?"

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"I'll give you to Monday to decide...if you want to suck my cock be here at 2 o'clock Monday--got it, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

I thought about his proposal the entire walk home. I pictured myself kneeling between his legs kissing and licking the smooth, hot flesh of his cock. I imagined what it would be like to slide my lips over his cockhead and suck on his prick until he came in my mouth. I wondered what his cum would taste like.

By the time I got home I had a raging boner. I quickly stripped off my clothes and lay on the bed. I stroked my four-inch hard-on but it didn't seem to be enough. I turned and lay on my side and took the middle finger of my right hand in my mouth and coated it with saliva. I pressed it against my anus--a thrill ran up and down my spine.

My God, John, what are you doing? I wondered. My actions took me completely by surprise.

I didn't care. Having a man's cock in my ass had awakened something deep within me—I was finally free from my inhibitions.

My hand became a blur on my shaft as I massaged my anus. I felt the familiar churning in my balls. I stroked my cock faster. Instinctively, I pushed my finger half-way into my asshole and my hips suddenly began to buck wildly as the cum raced out of my balls and shot great streams of semen onto the bedspread.

Just before I dozed off I felt incredibly happy that The Old Man had shown me my true nature. My orgasms were getting stronger and more intense and I felt like this was just the beginning of a wonderful new life.

I looked forward to Monday—I couldn't wait to kneel between a man's legs and take his hard cock into my mouth.

About a block away from the restaurant was a photography studio. Every day I walked by I just glanced at the photos. On my way to work on Monday I stopped and studied them. I noticed that all of the photos were of boys who were close to my age. Some of the boys were ruggedly handsome while the others, I thought, looked fresh and pretty.

I liked them all—they made me feel good. I was impressed with the photographer.

The Old Man was behind the counter counting the lunch receipts. When he looked up and saw me he smiled and motioned me over.

He whispered to me: "Why are you here so early?"

I blushed and was momentarily confused but then I understood.

"I want to suck your cock," I said softly.

"Go to my office and take off your clothes. Wait for me on your knees beside the couch—I want you to have an erection when I get there."

"Yes, sir."

The tone of his voice—the abrupt command—the absolute crudeness excited me. A wave of lust and desire washed over me--my cock became semi-hard inside my pants.

The head cook saw me walk through the kitchen. I noticed him checking his watch then a wry smile appeared on his lips. He knew, I'm sure they all knew why I was there early. I didn't care.

I stripped and neatly placed my clothes on a chair. I went to my knees in front of the couch. I wasn't sure which way I should be facing. I turned and faced the door so he would see me as soon as he came into the room.

I began playing with my cock and balls. I was so overwhelmed with excitement and anticipation that it didn't take long for my cock to stand straight out. I absentmindedly stroked my erection while I waited for him.

When he entered the room he said, "Clasp your hands behind your neck."

He went to his desk, sat down, and shuffled some papers. He made me wait a couple minutes before he came over and stood directly in front of me. He looked down at me—I looked up at him.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I want to suck your cock, sir."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"No—please, sir. Please let me suck your cock—please teach me how to suck your cock, sir," I pleaded as my own penis began to throb.

"Do you want to do whatever I tell you to do? Do you want to obey me?"

"Ohh, yes sir—I want to do everything you tell me—I want to obey you."

"Good," he said, "I expect to find you in this position every day at 2 o'clock whether I'm in this room or not—if I'm here, do not say a word—don't talk to me, just strip and get into position, do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, sir—I understand--I'll be here, sir."

"And after you finish your work at night do the same thing—come in here—get ready for me—and don't talk to me until I talk to you—do you want to do this for me, boy?"

"Yes, sir—I want to do this for you, sir."

"Good, boy...there are two more conditions you must agree to...first, not a word will be said during our 2 o'clock meeting...you will get on your knees and wait for me...when I come to you, you will open my slacks and pull them and my boxers down to my knees...you will then cup my balls in your right hand and take hold of the base of my cock with your left...you will kiss and lick my cock all over until I am fully hard...when I'm hard you will wet your lips and place them around my glans...you will then begin sucking my cock and massaging my balls—remember—I expect to feel your tongue on my cock at all times—when I cum in your mouth you will swallow every drop—when I pull my penis from your mouth you will use your lips and tongue to clean it—you will then replace my clothing, get dressed and go have your lunch before work—do you want to do this for me, boy?"

"Ohhh, yes, sir—oh yes I want to do this for you," the desperation in my voice surprised me. I was becoming a completely different person and I loved it.

"If you disobey me—or if you fail to swallow all of my sperm—you will receive a spanking, and I know you remember how unpleasant for you that was—do you still want to do this, boy?"

My head was swimming in lust, "Oh God, yes sir—I want to do this for you, sir."

He patted my head and said, "Good, boy—take out my cock and suck me off—I'll teach you what to do and then you'll be on your own—do it now, boy—suck my cock."

"Yes, sir—thank you, sir."

My hands trembled as I fumbled with his belt. The sound his zipper made when I pulled it down was so sexy I swooned in delight. I pulled his clothes to his knees and cradled his balls in my right hand and took hold of his cock with my left. I immediately pressed my lips and tongue to his cock-flesh—I kissed it all over. His manly aroma filled my nostrils and made my cock throb even more.

In a soft, yet firm voice he gave me a non-stop litany of instructions. He was my guide—my coach—my mentor and I listened, absorbed and followed every command.

My balls ached when I got my first taste of his pre-cum on my tongue. When I closed my lips around his cockhead I moaned and my mind thought of nothing else but his deliciously soft flesh.

I began bobbing my head back-and-forth on his cock. I took as much of his shaft into my mouth as I could, licking every inch of it. His cock was hot and smooth and I reveled in the texture and flavor.

I gently massaged his balls while my mouth worked on his shaft. I stroked the lower half of his cock while greedily sucking the head and upper shaft. A steady groan came from my throat--I was lost in the sucking—his soft flesh and manly aroma was all-consuming.

He began pumping his hips—pushing his cock deeper-and-deeper into my mouth. His balls were heavy in my hand and I knew they were full of hot cum that would soon be gushing down my willing throat.

Suddenly, he grasped my head in his hands and held me still. He wildly thrust his cock in-and-out of my mouth. My lips and tongue found a rhythm to the face-fucking. I felt his balls contract in my hand and I readied myself for the onslaught of his sperm.

The first stream of cum hit the back of my throat—I fought hard not to gag and swallowed it. Then shot-after-shot of hot cum filled my desperately sucking mouth. I struggled to keep up with his massive load but was able to swallow most of his creamy discharge.

His body suddenly became still—his hardness deflated. He slowly pulled his cock out of my mouth and presented it to my face. I used my lips and tongue to clean-off the excess semen. I could feel a stream of cum on my chin—I had failed to swallow every drop.

I replaced his clothing and waited.

"Boy," he said, "you are a natural born cocksucker...I'll let you slide this time on the spilled cum...now get dressed and get out of here."

He had told me not to say a word so I didn't.

I dressed and then had lunch. My cock and balls ached inside my blue jeans. While I ate lunch I hoped and prayed that after work he would fuck me in the ass.

One thing I had to admit was that the spankings had instilled a strong work ethic in me. Even though I knew he wouldn't be inspecting my work anymore, I still did the very best I could. Besides, focusing on the job took my mind off my heavy balls and my constantly semi-erect cock. The time went faster, too.

The Old Man was seated at his desk, wearing a robe when I entered his office. I didn't say a word--I stripped naked, went to my knees and clasped my hands behind my head. Then I remembered his instructions and coated my finger with saliva and rubbed it over my anus until my cock sprang a boner. Now I was ready for him.

He made me wait several minutes. When he stood before me he removed his robe, he was naked underneath. I ignored his old, wrinkled flesh and concentrated on his dangling ball sac and cock.

"Why are you here, boy?"

"I want to suck your cock and swallow your cum, sir."

"Oh, I don't know...."

"Please let me suck your cock, sir—please let me taste your cum."

I saw his penis visibly twitch when I begged him.

"Suck me off, boy—suck my cock."

"Yes, sir—thank you, sir."

My lips and tongue went to work. He was hard in an instant and I took his bulbous cockhead into my mouth. I became lost in the sucking again. With his hot flesh in my mouth and manly aroma filling my nostrils, my mind drifted to 'my happy place' where nothing mattered but giving pleasure to a man and satisfying his carnal desires.

When his hips began pushing his cock further into my mouth I worked harder and faster. As his balls contracted in my hand I was ready for him this time. I flattened my tongue on his cock-slit and lapped-up and swallowed every drop of cum he shot into my mouth. He presented his cock to my face and I licked it clean. I was pleased and proud of myself.

He sat on the edge of the couch.

"Suck my balls, boy—take my balls in your mouth."

"Yes, sir."

His scrotum had a thin layer of perspiration as my tongue lathered his ball sac. His balls barely fit in my mouth—I had to breathe deeply through my nose and when I inhaled his strong aroma my head swooned and my cock pulsated.

After a few minutes he pushed my head away, sat back, pulled up his legs and pushed them wide apart. I was staring directly at his puckered anus.

"Lick my asshole, boy—push your tongue inside my asshole—fuck me with your tongue, boy."

I gulped, "Yes, sir."

I wasn't sure about doing this. It never occurred to me that people did this—it seemed a little perverted to me, but I was his 'boy' now so I had to obey him.

The smell wasn't too bad. My tongue wasn't very long so I had to press my face to his ass in order for it to enter his anus. The walls of his asshole felt like sandpaper on my tongue. He had me tongue-fuck his asshole for a good ten minutes. By the time he tapped me on my head, his cock was hard again.

He had me stand by his desk then gently pushed me forward until my chest and belly were lying on the desktop. I spread my legs wide apart without him saying anything.

I felt his oily finger on my anus. I couldn't help moaning when his finger entered my asshole. He took his time getting me ready; I think he enjoyed hearing the animal-like noises he elicited from my throat as he oiled me.

By the time he pushed his cock inside me I was trembling with pent-up lust. With each thrust of his hips my cock pressed against the wooden desk. My head rolled from side-to-side, my mouth open with drool dripping on the desktop.

He fucked me faster and harder. I cried out whenever his cock bumped my prostate. I didn't think of myself as a slut or a whore—I just loved the feel of his cock inside me.

I admired his stamina; he fucked me for a full ten minutes before I felt his cock expand inside me and he cried out and unloaded his balls in my asshole. I screamed and shouted as my own balls erupted and load-after-load of cum splashed on the side of his desk. He collapsed on my back and we rested, gulping for air.

When he got off me I hurried to the bathroom, his cum dripping down my legs; he followed me. I used a warm wash cloth to clean his cock and scrotum as his cum flowed out of my hole into the toilet.

I cleaned the side of his desk and the floor where my semen had made a mess. We dressed in silence—words were not needed. We smiled at each other as I walked out the door.

The next day as I walked by the photography studio something caught my eye. There was a new photo in the window. I stood and stared at the boy in the picture—he was gorgeous—I couldn't take my eyes off him.

Suddenly the front door opened and I snapped out of my reverie. A big, hairy man came outside and greeted me.

"Hey there, young man, are you interested in photography?" he asked.

"Ah, I...ah, yeah—you have some nice pictures here," I stammered and blushed.

He studied me. "Have we met? You look familiar...wait, do you work at the restaurant?"

"Yeah, ah...I'm a dishwasher there."

He smiled. "Ohhhh, yeah...you're The Old Man's new 'dishwasher'...I eat there every day—I've seen you there. How do you like it so far?"

There was something about the look on his face and the tone of his voice that made me think he knew what I really did for The Old Man. In this neighborhood there weren't many secrets.

"Ah, it's okay," I said shyly.

"You know, son, you're a very good-looking boy. Have you ever been a model?"

"Well, ah...no...."

"Would you like to try it? Would you like to see your photo in my window?"

I blushed again. "Well, I wouldn't know what to do..."

"It's very easy—I'll guide you through the photo shoot...I'll even pay you twenty dollars...it'll only take an hour or so."

"Twenty dollars?" I asked. "For an hour?" He nodded yes. "Ah, yeah, sure—I'd like that."

"My name is Barry," he said, and I told him my name and we shook hands. "How about tomorrow at eleven?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll be here."

"Great," he said then went inside.

He's going to pay me twenty dollars? I wondered. I always thought you had to pay the photographer?

He's not a very good businessman, I thought.

After work that night The Old Man sat on the couch and had me face away from him. I positioned my asshole on his cock and had to raise and lower myself on him. It was a lot of work but I loved the sensations he gave me—my prostate was stimulated with each thrust and I shot the most cum ever. I thanked him profusely when I left.

As is my habit, I was ten minutes early for my 'photo shoot'. There was no one in the front of the store but I heard voices coming somewhere from the back. A curtain covered a doorway and I peeked inside.

There were bright lights and when my eyes focused I saw what appeared to be a mother and her two young daughters posing for Barry. He was very professional—I was impressed.

They must have been there awhile because in a minute or so Barry announced he was done. He turned off the lights and they headed for the front. I stood in the store and looked at more of his work. He was pleased to see me.

I waited while the woman wrote a check and left with her kids. Barry locked the door.

"I don't like to be disturbed during a shoot," he explained.

I followed him into the studio but was immediately confused. We walked all the way past where I'd seen the woman and kids posing and he led me through a door into a room in the back of the studio.

"I'm going to turn on the lights—it's going to be very bright," he warned me.

"Okay," I said.

Sure enough—the lights were blindingly bright. I shielded my eyes and gradually got accustomed to it.

I surveyed the room: a long couch against one wall, and a huge bed in the middle against another wall. The bed had a black sheet on it, and the walls were covered by dark red wallpaper. Huge light stands stood in front of the bed. It looked pretty cheesy and for a moment I wondered if I'd made a mistake.

He saw my alarm and tried to put me at ease.

"Johnny," he said, "...don't worry about a thing—you won't have to do anything you don't want."

He then explained what he wanted: "Johnny, I'm going to take some test shots to make sure the lighting is just right...then when I tell you, I want you to slowly unbutton your shirt, okay?"

"Unbutton my shirt?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, this will all be done very tastefully...you know, I mentioned to The Old Man that you were going to pose for me and he assured me that you are a cooperative boy."

My heart sank. Barry obviously knew I was The Old Man's boy, and I could imagine Barry complaining to him if I didn't go along. I felt like I was trapped between a rock and a hard place.

I resigned myself to my fate reminding myself about the twenty dollars I would get afterwards.

Barry began shooting me. Over and over he told me to relax and enjoy myself. At first I had to force a smile, but it wasn't long before I was into it, and my smile came naturally.

"Okay, Johnny, I'm ready...go ahead and unbutton your shirt—slowly."

He kept up a running commentary: "That's good—very good—two buttons to go---excellent—just let your shirt dangle open for a minute—yeah, that's it—put your hands at your sides—perfect—now open your shirt and take it off—slowly—yeah—good—now throw it at the couch—oh yeah—very good—sit on the bed and take off your shoes and socks—good—good—now stand up and unfasten your belt—slowly—very good—pull down your zipper—oh yeah—very sexy—you're a beautiful boy Johnny—now very slow—wriggle your hips and push your jeans to the floor."