Reciprocity Ch. 01


I poured a few drops of oil onto his scrotum, and concentrated first on his balls by gently pulling and massaging his testicles with both hands. Occasionally I would add a bit more oil and rub each testicle with the tips of my fingers. As I continued to work his scrotum, I heard Carl emit a soft moan as he pushed his lower torso closer to me, and opened his legs wider. Another drop of fluid formed and as I continued to knead his balls with one hand, I slowly swirled the drop around the head with a finger of my other hand.

The duel stimulation to his balls and cock caused Carl put his feet up on the arms of my chair while he slid his ass even closer to me. It was as if he was passively signaling me to insert my finger into his anus. I resisted the temptation, figuring that he would not be ready for that type of sex play just yet. Instead, I put even more oil on his scrotum, cupped his balls, and pressed firmly on the sensitive area between his anus and testicles. Another moan, but this time it was much louder and longer, and more fluid formed at the tip to where there was almost a continual stream. I knew he was close, so I gently pinched the head of his cock and made it deflate.

I looked up at him for the first time since I had started. Carl's eyes were downcast and half-lidded as he intently watched my fingers do their magic. His breathing was shallow, and there was a very thin layer of sweat that coated his upper body. He looked almost corpse-like as he sat motionless with his head down.

"Carl, are you okay?" I asked in an amused tone of voice.

I saw him slowly nod his head, and then say hoarsely, "I take it back about what happens if I don't like it. I don't know if I can take much more of this, you fucker."

I laughed quietly, and said, "Much more? I haven't even started yet."

While still holding his tightened scrotum, I drizzled a liberal amount of oil all along the shaft and over the head. Once I spread the oil around with the palm of my free hand I slowly ran my fingertips up and down the shaft, but instead of having my hand oriented sideways to his member as is the normal position when jerking off, I positioned my fingers over the top of his erection. It was a variation on the technique Danny used on me that night in the tent, but the advantage of my method was that I could touch all parts of the shaft without fully wrapping my fingers around it and inadvertently apply pressure.

It was not long before Carl was moaning uncontrollably, and saying over and over again like some religious chant, 'Jesus' and 'Oh my god, this is killing me.' His whole body was as rigid as his cock. I could see the muscles in his thighs and calves bulge as he pushed his legs hard against the arms of my chair, and causing his back to fully arch upward. Every so often he would try and thrust his tortured member hard into my hand in order to initiate his climax, but all that his thrusting accomplished was to force the head of his cock into my palm, causing it to deflate again, and subsequently prolong his agony.

You keep thrusting like that, and I'll just make this last longer," I whispered teasingly, "I'm better at this than you, and I can keep doing this all night long."

How much time had passed? Five minutes, maybe ten? It was hard to tell. His balls were tight against the base of his shaft, which was a sure sign that he was nearing that point where climax was inevitable. It was at these moments when I would change technique again. While holding his shaft firmly by the base, I gently rubbed the underside of his cock with a finger or two just below where the head meets the shaft, and with each subsequent stroke from my fingers I would gradually increase pressure.

This was usually the most sensitive area of a man's cock, so sensitive in fact that too much pressure or stimulation may actually cause irritation and a painful ejaculation. The trick in avoiding over-stimulation is that at some point I shift to rubbing the head on the opposite side. I jokingly call this my 'contrecoup' technique, and if I do it correctly it only takes a few strokes on the opposite side before the guy starts shooting his wad. Carl was no exception.

I had only just started swirling my finger slowly around the spot when Carl's leg, overstrained from the tension that had built up in his muscles, began to vibrate uncontrollably. Applying a bit more pressure, I caused a near constant seepage of pre-ejaculate fluid forming at the tip of his head. The droplet started small, but quickly grew in size and eventually rolled off and fell onto his stomach.

I whispered again, "Do you want to come?"

Carl was still looking down at his cock and feebly answered back, "Yes."

"Look at me and say 'please'," I demanded softly.

Carl looked up, and a wry smile passed his lips as he said, "Please."

With our eyes still locked together, I shifted my fingers to the opposite side of his cock and firmly stroked head and shaft together. Carl's eyes went wide for a moment and his mouth formed a silent 'Oh' just before I saw a thick strand of semen hit him across his own lips. I looked down in time to see jet after jet of cum landing across his chest and stomach. As his cock slowly softened in my hand, Carl's legs became as dead weight and he let his feet slid off my chair and onto the floor with a loud thump.

I chuckled, seeing the look of utter contentment on Carl's face, and said, "Well, I would say that I met my part of our conditions, unless you're going to lie, and say you didn't like it."

I was about to add another lame witticism when Carl pulled me down and kissed me. It was deep and passionate and much unexpected. I could taste his semen as he pushed his tongue further into my mouth. I returned his kiss as I held the back of his head tightly in my hand. While sucking on my tongue, he reached over and started fumbling with my belt and zipper. I let this go on for some time before I had to disengage and take my pants down myself.

My cock sprang out and Carl immediately grabbed it by the base and began slowly stroking it with his other hand. I had to sit down, as my legs were already like rubber. Carl continued to stroke me as he leaned forward and reengaged the kiss. The erotic sensations of Carl's hands on my cock coupled with his forceful kiss were almost indescribable. This was not raw sexual appetite, but true passion, the kind of passion I never felt with Mike or Danny and only a few times with some of my female friends in college. I put my arms around him and drew him closer.

Carl was fondling me like he had fondled himself this morning: a gentle combination of fingers and palms that explored the whole length and breadth of my erection. Never spending too much time in one place, and always keeping me off balance as to where and when his fingers would touch next. Waves of ecstasy coursed through me as he swirled the small drops of fluid all around my bulbous head.

He was taking his time as I had done, wanting to prolong my pleasure as much as possible. Shifting gears again, Carl grabbed my balls that were hanging down over the chair, and began to pull on them as he increased the stroking along my shaft. With my balls cupped in hand, I felt his index finger pressing against that sensitive area behind my testicles just as I had done to him. I let out a long, stuttering breath of air through my nostrils in response, and smiled to myself thinking what a good pupil this was to learn so quickly.

"Ooo, he likes that," said Carl, and then added with a wry laugh, "I wonder if he'll like this?"

I felt him probe further with his finger until he found my anus, at which point he pressed firmly, but not so firm as to cause penetration. The feeling was incredible; not so much from the actual stimulation, but from the fact that he was taking initiative by exploring different ways on his own without my prompting or guidance. The pupil was becoming a teacher so to speak. It was such a turn-on for me that I almost asked him to fuck me right then, but I wanted to save that treat for another day; besides, Carl had another surprise for me.

Even though Carl was bringing me close to climax, I could feel that too much friction was beginning to build, so I would soon lose the pleasurable stimulation.

"Carl, I think I'm going to need some lubricant..."

Before I could finish telling him the bottle of oil was on the table behind him, he had already dropped to his knees, and was sucking my cock. I started to laugh at his unabashed eagerness.

Upon hearing my laughter, Carl looked up at me with a concerned look, "What's wrong? Am I doing it wrong?"

I kissed him, "Nothing's wrong. It's perfect."

To use an old cliché, Carl took to sucking my cock as fish take to water. So much so that I was finding it difficult to believe that this was really his first time. He showered loving attention to every inch of my member and scrotum with his tongue and lips; and as he had done with his hands, he never concentrated too long on any one area or with any one technique. Only in a few instances did he become over-exuberant, accidentally scraping too hard with his teeth.

It was not long before I felt my inevitable climax, and I verbally warned him of my impending ejaculation. Deftly, and without breaking either rhythm or contact, he replaced his mouth with his hand. I uttered one long moan, arched my back, and came all over myself, the volume and force of which I have rarely achieved prior to that point or since.

We sat back into our respected chairs, looked at each other, and started to laugh. We talked for a while before each of us retired to our bedrooms. Small talk really; nothing salacious, sexual, or erotic; just the kind of talk guys have when they are sitting in a bar, playing cards, or watching a game on television. An impartial observer, if one happened by at the time, would have concluded that we were just a couple of old friends that were reunited and catching up on all the events that had transpired since we last met. Only once did we comment on the events that had just transpired between us, and that was when I asked him in all honesty if this was really the first time he had done anything like this. He said that it was. I still found it hard to believe, but he seemed sincere so I never questioned it again.


Early the next morning, I was awakened by a sharp nudge. Peering into my darkened room I saw what I hoped was Carl standing over me, a featureless shadowy outline that was only slightly less dark than the surrounding room. For some odd reason visions of the shower scene from Psycho popped into my head.

"What the fuck, man? It's five o'clock in the morning. What's wrong?" I asked with my voice still raspy from sleep.

"Are you asleep?" he asked in hushed tones.

I almost laughed at the stupidity of his question, but I was still half-asleep and just responded sarcastically, "Why yes I am. The voice you are hearing is only a recording."

"Sorry, but I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about last night," he said apologetically.

Here it comes, I thought. The inevitable doubt and acrimony creeps into the conscience in the wee hours of the morning as the soul begins to torture itself with the supposed immoral underpinnings of its sexual transgressions. I should expect this because I went through the same thing to a certain degree the first time I slept with a guy. Carl's probably wondering if he should give up his career in biology and try to make a name for himself designing women's fashions or is worried about how ridiculous he'll look in a lavender tutu and matching toe slippers.

I sat up still half asleep, and leaned against the headboard, "What about last night?"

"What was that word you used...reci...?"

"Reciprocity," I finished for him, "What about it?"

"Well it seems to me that you got a blow job, but I only got a hand job. That doesn't seem quite fair and in keeping with your ideas of reciprocity."

I started to laugh, "Yep, if you put it that way it does sound like you got the short end of the stick, but you have to admit it was a pretty good hand job."

"Good?" he exclaimed with exuberance, "It was fucking awesome. Better than I've even done to myself and way better than I've gotten from Mary, but..."

"...But you still feel taken advantage of and that I owe you something more," I said, still chuckling.

Carl didn't say anything; instead he kneeled on the bed next to me. As my eyes became better adjusted to the darkness, I could see that Carl was naked and already sporting a full erection. I was never much of a sex-in-the-morning type of person for many obvious reasons, but I just could not let this opportunity slip by. It's not like I was getting tons of offers for sex lately, male or female.

"Well I certainly can't argue with your logic," I said as I pulled him closer to me, "But you understand this will put the advantage in my favor again, and you may have to come through with something special."

Carl was breathing hard in anticipation, and asked in a soft, slightly stuttering voice, "What kind of special favor?"

"Oh," I said as I gently kissed his head and the underside of his shaft, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

I heard Carl suck in a large volume of air when I pulled him slowly into my mouth. His cock was still slightly oily from last night's frivolities. It had been well over three years since I preformed fellatio on someone, plus Carl had a fairly thick cock, so my initial attempts at fully inserting him met with some resistance.

Eventually I was able to get a good rhythm developed and had his cock well-lubricated with my saliva; but given my awkward positioning, Carl was still kneeling and I was stretched out on my side, I was still unable to fully draw him in. So I repositioned Carl and myself into the sixty-nine position where I was on top. Again I slowly drew Carl into me, and this time I was able to get his whole length in my mouth to where I could touch the top of his scrotum with my lips.

Once he was fully inside me, I would hold him in that position for a while and swirl my tongue around the head and shaft, and then slowly back off to point where my lips just enclosed the head. At this point I would vigorously flick the sensitive area on the underside of his cock with my tongue before descending down his shaft again. I repeated this over and over again, never using my hands except to provide special attention to his now-tightening balls.

Besides having a mouthful of cock, my mouth was rapidly filling with saliva. I parted my lips just enough to let it flow down and bathe his cock and balls with my natural lubricant. Once I had a good supply I fully lubricated my finger and slowly inserted it into his anus. Up until this time Carl was unusually quiet, but once I touched his trip-hammer prostate I began to hear a loud and continuous moaning.

Carl then firmly wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my groin. The sensation was incredible as I felt his tongue forcefully darting all around my cock and balls. He tried to keep up with me the best that he could, but when I started to swirl my finger around the inside of his anus, he just gave up trying to service me, and just laid his head back down and muttered 'Oh my God' over and over.

It was not long before Carl began to thrust his hips upward in mock simulation of fucking my mouth.

I took a moment from sucking his cock to encourage him further, "Oh yes, fuck my mouth. Fuck my mouth until you shoot your hot load down my throat."

I used his movements to aid my finger sliding across his prostate. The sensation caused another round of wild moaning from him, which ended when he clamped his mouth firmly over my anus to tongue me with complete abandon.

"That's right, tongue my ass and fuck my mouth," I said in between his vigorous thrusts.

Our sexual repartee finally came to an end when I inserted a second finger into his anus and continually flicked the sensitive spot on his head with my tongue. Carl uttered one last loud groan just before I felt his semen begin to fill my mouth, and I continued to suck on him until I began to feel him soften.

"Holy shit," was all he said after I lifted myself off him.

"I'd say you owe me big time."

Eagerly, Carl asked, "What do you want me to do?"

I laughed and looked at the clock, "Well right now we have to get ready for work, but I'll have the whole day to think up something special for you."


It was all that I could do to keep my mind on work that day. It was even worse at dinner, for there I had to go through the perfunctory pleasantries of seeming interested in the conversations initiated by our other two married companions. Carl was having just as difficult a time as me, as he continually had to ask the other two biologists to repeat themselves because he had not been listening the first time.

Once dinner was over, Carl and I made it appear that we were headed for a night on the town, and left the other two guys to call their wives. Along our little detour toward the center of town, which lasted just long enough for the other two to get back to their house, I jokingly ask Carl, "So which bar do you want to hit first?"

"How 'bout the bar called 'stick your hard cock up my ass'," he said under his breath with a smile.

"You just read my mind."

No sooner had we gotten back to our own residence than our clothes came off. Somehow we ended up in Carl's room along with the bottle of lubricant, and each of us took turns covering the other with the light oil. We proceeded slowly, sitting on the bed, face to face, and taking turns fondling the other. Our hands were in perpetual motion and our lips were locked together.

When we finally broke our grip, Carl playfully asked, "So what's this special thing you're going to have me do?"

"You've already touched on it earlier," I said, breathing heavily, "and you've had a taste of it this morning."

I let go of his cock and slid my hands beneath him while Carl lifted himself to his knees. My hands were already well-oiled, so I had little trouble slipping two fingers into him down to the second knuckle. I gently worked my fingers in and out to get Carl used to the increased girth. It was slow going, but with a little patience I felt his sphincter begin to loosen, and I was able to fully insert both fingers, but the fit was very snug.

"Wasn't this easier to do this morning?" he asked with a hint of strain in his voice.

"You were more relaxed then. Does it feel uncomfortable?"

"Not really, but it's different now. This morning it was like 'fuck me in the ass' time. I'm just not getting that feeling," Carl said disappointedly.

Carl was trying to pass it off and put a brave face on the situation, but I could tell that he was experiencing a bit of discomfort.

"You just want to change the rules in mid-stream," I said, teasing him as I removed my fingers, "You just want me to give up so that you can fuck my mouth again, don't you?"

"No, no, it's not that, I want you too," Carl exclaimed.

I started to laugh, "It's okay, Carl. I thought we might be going a bit fast, so let's try something else. Something that may make you relax."

I told Carl to lie on his stomach. I applied a little more oil and began to give him a massage. I could tell immediately that all the muscles in his lower back were tight, so I concentrated most of my efforts there.

As I continued to knead the knots in Carl's back, he would periodically ask me questions, "How many girls have you fucked?"

I had to think for a moment, "Oh, I don't know; more than four but fewer than seven."

"Well that doesn't narrow it down too much," he said, chuckling. I could tell from his voice that he was beginning to relax more.

"I don't keep an exact tally in my head," I said, and started to rattle off names under my breath until I arrived at a more definitive answer, "Four. Five if you count the girl who gave me a hand job on a dare."

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