tagGay MaleSucking My First Older Cock

Sucking My First Older Cock

bymichaeltreadway©

My name is Michael, and I had just turned 19 years old in the spring of 1985. I was an average height young guy standing slim around 5'8'' tall and tipped the scales at a lean 175 pounds of trim physique. I was frequently told that I was an attractive young man who resembled the younger version of the county western singer Clint Black. I guess I was a typical male at that age who had a little bit of untapped potential and a whole lot of selfish, cocky, know it all attitude. I personally thought I was a good looking man and was confident enough in myself to admit it. I had a very outgoing personality and enjoyed conversations with everyone. I certainly wasn't bashful and I truly enjoyed flirting, teasing and flaunting my sex appeal to whoever was receptive.

Like many young men, when I was a younger I experimented one summer break with bi-sexuality. Two of the neighborhood guys and myself spent most of the summer vacation hanging out together. One of our favorite past times was meeting in the woods near the city park and masturbating to our collection of Hustler and Swank porn magazines we found abandoned in the park's wooded area. The type of discarded adult trash with the pages stuck together from soiled cum deposits. In the beginning we would break off individually and jackoff privately and reunite to share the details among the others. As this quickly grew less arousing we decided to try a new adventure. Each person drew cards from a deck to determine who was going to be the winners and who the loser was. The rules where simple and the person who drew the Queen of Hearts from the deck was the loser. He was required to publically jackoff the winners as many times as requested without argument, discussion or any opportunity of orgasm reciprocation from the others. Thus he was given the title of, "Blue-balls" for the day. "Blue-balls" would get the chance to masturbate only after the others were completely satisfied. It typically ended in the same pattern each afternoon with two satisfied limp dicks returning home while "Blue-balls" hung back in the woods to take care of his own personal erection.

Each of the guys would gather a few of their favorite porn magazines, find a comfortable looking sitting area and kick their shorts off their feet. Typically, the guy would sit with his back to a tree with his feet flat on the ground with his knees bent and his legs spread wide for easy access to be stroked. "Blue-balls" would position himself between the open thighs and typically spit into his hands for some initial lubrication. Sitting between the spread legs of the winner would present "Blue-balls" a uniquely submissive position with a very close-up view of the cock thrusting toward the sky and two cum filled balls dangling below waiting for a good milking. When it was my turn to stroke the guys I would intensely stare at the dicks studying each throb and twitch reaction with every stroke of my hand. I gained experience from each hand job and soon was very skilled with techniques for each guy. One of the guys loved the head of his cock to be twisted in a circle rotation motion while the other fella wanted pumped fast as possible. David, was a rude, disrespectful prick and a grade or two ahead of us other two. He enjoyed making whoever was "Blue-balls" feel less than appreciated with his teasing and fag pokes. David was "Blue-balls" only once and then he decided that since he was the oldest and the largest of the guys present that he wasn't going to be a participant in the drawing of the Queen card and would be one of the winners by his own choice.

David preferred if I knelt between his spread legs sitting with my feet tucked under my ass supporting my weight. It was a very feminine posture and I believe he was enforcing his manhood with that particular position for servicing. I watched intensely as my right rotated around the engorged head, slid down the shaft then quickly jerking upward returning to rotate around the head. I had become very proficient at the piston motion routine and could repeat the pattern quickly without losing rhythm. Frequently, David would peek over the top of the magazine and between his spread legs to shout out an insult to "Blue-balls" tossing in faggot jabs to bruise our male egos. I gave every hand job my full attention and anxiously awaited the orgasm that would spurt high in the air and eventually come to rest on my forearms and bent thighs. I found myself desperately pumping their cocks until my palms were fully drenched with cum and dripped from my fingertips.

I rarely took time to dry my hands as I went from one hard cock to the next and back using the prior orgasm as a lubricant for the next dick. The semen would coat my fingers as I continued to milk every drop to ensure my guest's satisfaction with my efforts. I never thought of myself as bi or for heaven's sake, not as gay. I was just sexually adventurous and thrived on the teasing control I held over my friend's sexual arousal. I admit that I enjoyed the feel of their dicks in my grip and jerking them until their sperm gushed. At the time I didn't understand my unusual attraction but, I did little to fight the overwhelming desire. I was still a virgin at this age and had yet to be in a sexual relationship with a girl so I believe those experiences laid the foundation for my sexuality and was partially the blame for why I became a sexual deviant asshole as I grew up. I have wondered if this period in my younger life was the reason why I treated my girlfriends so poorly. Was I potentially gay and taking my subliminal repressive desires on those in my domestic relationships?

At the current time I was living in a small one bedroom apartment with a steady girlfriend. Kim was an inexperienced, Catholic disciplined girl that was at the infancy of discovering her sexuality and freedom. She was essentially a virgin when we met and had recently escaped the surveillance of her parents and was living on her own for the first time. She was a moderately cute girl with small B cupped sized breasts. They were downward swooping with a long flat front that curved upward from under boob. Her breasts had large dark areolas that consumed most of her cup size with nipple lengths that were abnormally elongated and appeared permanently erected. She was somewhat chubby with a little love handle around her waistline and had a plump ass that jiggled rhythmically like ocean waves slapping the beach when we fucked doggy style. Her parents disapproved of her dating a guy like me so I took pleasure in persuaded her to abandon most of her Christian principals. She trusted me so it didn't take long before I persuaded her into dressing sultrier and more seductively. She had little sexual experience when we started living together so she surprised and aroused by the attention she received from strangers admiring her nipples jetting through the thin linen materials. I enjoyed watching the other men's frustrations as they blatantly stared at her titties. I admit that I was a lousy, selfish boyfriend and I took advantage of every opportunity to cheat on our commitments and desperately wanted to corrupt Kimberly Ann.

She was very stingy with sucking cock, hated the taste and texture of semen and would always finish you off with a hand job. However, she liked to drink and was a light weight who became drunk easily while I became proficient ensuring her liquor glass remained full. Her frequent intoxications impaired her judgement and we frequently explored domination role play where I would straddle her abdomen, pinning her arms under the weight of my thighs while I masturbated inches from her face. She would protest and thrash her head from side to side trying to avoid any pre-cum semen leaks. I milked my dick from top to bottom to squeeze a few drops of cum and dribble the globs on to her lips. I would pump my cock and erupt my load directly upon her tightly compressed mouth. My seed leaked between those pouty lips and coated her tongue every time she opened her mouth to yell a contemptuous curse of her disapproval. I loved being an asshole and the negative influence I was having on her personality.

Fortunately for me, Kim lacked self-confidence and this insecurity and inexperience in relationships made her more tolerant to my kinky abnormalities. She was reliable rent money and was a steady fuck which made the whole situation very tolerable for me. I was certainly not in love, but our relationship presented a marvelous opportunity for me to explore some sexual perversion. For me getting laid by any girl had become very routine and unchallenging. I was becoming sexually bored and required increasingly more perversions to get my satisfaction.

Danny, Kim's former sexually frustrated ex-boyfriend, and I had been friends since our freshmen year and as many young males did at that age he frequently described his frustration of dating a good Catholic girl. On one Kim's drinking binges we persuaded her to allow Danny to get some long awaited sexual gratification. With a tranquilizing buzz and overwhelming coercion from us we assisted her in leaning over the arm of the sofa. Danny reached around and unbuckled her stuffed tight jeans and slowly lowered them over her curvy, plump ass. He took his time savoring that first view of her bare bottom as he stood behind her. He slipped her pants and panties down around her ankles. I could see his eager anticipation as his cock stood straight up and rested against his belly. There were many disappointing goodnights between Danny and Kim without an opportunity to even steal second base with her. But, tonight her jeans and undies were tangled around her ankles which unintentional bound her feet close together.

I watched as he dry humped his throbbing cock up and down between the cracks of her ass cheeks. Kimberly's eyes were squinted with intoxication. She used her hands to catch and support herself when she fell slightly forward as he lifted her hips into position for penetration. I moved around beside him so I could watch and encourage him as he slipped his cock head gently into the entrance of her pussy. I told her what a slut she was becoming and from this angle her pussy looked similar to a heart shaped Tulip blossom. Kim let out a soft and inviting moan as Danny pushed his cock in all the way to base of his balls with one smooth thrust. He looked over to me and gave me a smile of eternal gratitude as his hips began to slap against her ass cheeks with each thrust into her reserved pussy. I was happy for him to finally get some satisfaction from her and completely unemotional to the fact he was fucking my roommate girlfriend.

I was drudging my way through community college while working the midnight shift in a local convenience store located in the city of Oak Lawn, a suburb of Dallas, Texas. This town was popular for being known as the center of the gay community in the area. My store uniform was frequently unbuttoned a few buttons below my manager's tolerance level exposing my chest muscles for the appreciation of the many gay men living in the community who shopped at the store. The uniform's sleeve cuffs were rolled at the tip and clung firmly around my biceps and the shirt's hem was tucked neatly into my pants. I intentionally stuffed my ass into my favorite pair of white Guess jeans and I always wore a pair of well-manicured Python skinned cowboy boots. I refused to wear any underwear beneath the white denim and often wondered if my dark brown pubic hair or my package outline was noticeable through the material. Back in the mid-1980s a guy wearing white jeans in that community advertised that you were probably gay. At the time I believed I was heterosexual and considered myself to be primarily straight. However, I enjoyed the attention and the controversy of wearing white jeans in a predominately gay neighborhood.

There is not much to do when you work the midnight shift at a 7-11 store in Oak Lawn, Texas except get in trouble somehow. I spent many of my midnight shifts jacking off in the storage room while browsing the wide selection of porn magazines that the store distributed. There was a camera in the backroom and I often wondered if anyone had ever reviewed the tapes. My duties were supposed to be stocking shelves with fresh merchandise or peering down potential shop lifters. But, I thought I could leave most of that hard work to the dedicated, professional morning shift. I spent my available time on the clock with more personal entertainment, having trashy phone sex with anonymous gay men.

Each and every night I would receive numerous calls from intoxicated, horny men. Frequently, the men stated that they had shopped at the store and saw me behind the counter. After the bars had delivered their final round and the buzz had turned into drunken recklessness, these men had only one topic to discuss, gay sex! I am a social person I enjoyed fucking with people's minds. The phone calls were exciting and I loved listening to these guys squirm as I would baited them with seductive possibilities. I must admit that each conversion left me horny as hell and needing sexual storeroom relief. Furthermore, I was starting to allow that old teenage sexual exploration to surface again in my hardening groin. I would spend hours on the phone taunting them in a growling, sexy voice describing my sexual desires. I pleaded to be tied face down on the kitchen table with my ankles secured to the table legs and my hands bound behind my back. I whispered into the phone my fantasy to be blindfolded with my jeans yanked below my knees with him behind me preparing to fuck my tight, pink ass hole. All of this teasing trash-talk was simply a distraction to dull the boredom during the lonely midnight shift. I knew full well it was bull-shit ramblings to a bunch of drunken masturbating perverts.

However, I was opening Pandora's Box and I loved the potential. My sexual appetite, insatiable curiosity and boredom in my relationship with Kimberley Ann started to control my better judgment. I began to agree to casual hook-ups with a few of the more aggressive, dominate personalities. For whatever reason, this personality trait was prominent in the older guys. I personally wasn't aroused by the softer boys who were in touch with their decorating or fashion side. I went with what I knew best from my past bi-sexual experiences. I offered a few of the more assertive men a masterful oiled up hand job. I told them to pick me up outside the store an hour or so before my shift began and I promised a nice nut blowing orgasm in their car. I met with several guys and I was really starting to enjoy myself and realized the thought of a hard cock remained in my mind throughout the night.

I started to receive frequent calls from a guy named Bill. He was one of those southern 'good ole boy' redneck types. He claimed to be in his middle 50's which would put him just over 30 years older than me. He went into full details of every dimension of his body as he masturbated during our conversation. Bill described himself as an average blue collar guy who was suffering through a dull marriage with a boring wife who was well beyond her hormonal prime. His was an out of shape middle aged man nearing 240 pounds on a 6' frame. He stated that he had a beer belly that hung just over his belt buckle and that his hair was thin from years of monotonous marriage.

However, what he lacked in sophistication he made up for with a 7.5'' uncut cock that he claimed could stay plump all night. I remember that he called himself a shower and not a grower. He said his unit hung a good 6'' limp. His description made me chuckle because that is ample size in my opinion, and a full inch longer limp than mine when fully erect. He had a bad attitude and was in poor physical condition. He was absolutely nothing that I would be attracted to and probably would be even a little on the gross side for my age. Something about this guy's attitude just seemed to intrigue me and turn me on. It reminded me of David back in the park's wooded area during summer break and I think the nasty wrongness of the situation made it sexually appealing. We arranged to meet outside the store about 9:30 PM. I was actually off work that particular evening but, I liked to keep that a secret as it is a great excuse for me to return promptly if needed.

Bill was on time and drove up in a standard, older model Ford pickup. He lowered the glass on the passenger side wand I leaned in to greet him. I quickly noticed he wore a pair of ragged jeans. He had on a paisley embroidered long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled to his elbows and the hem hung loose to his waist. The type of shirt with snaps in front instead of buttons. The lowest snap was un-clipped probably from not being able to reach together comfortably. There was an old country music station on the radio and a high-ball glass adorning a Jack Daniel's insignia that rested on the dash.

"You ready to go kid?" he asked.

It wasn't much of an introduction and the way he spoke seemed to make me question the sincerity and romance of the situation. His voice was rough as if he smoked most of his early years and his tone was that of a person who does not handle his liquor pleasantly. I climbed in the passenger seat and continued to survey the situation. The truck was clean with a full single bench seat across the front and the dash had a long crack from the relentless Texas sun. He had a plastic tray holder on the floor and a ½ empty bottle of cheap bourbon in the cup holder. Bill extended his hand and said, "Hey". His grip was powerful and I felt he was trying to make a statement with it. He offered up his bottle and I asked if he had an extra glass I could use. He replied in a seemly uneducated slur, "You won't be needing no glass boy". Sometimes we should listen to our inner voice and retreat with caution but, I ignored common sense and replied to him, "Why not".

We took off in the truck west bound on West Mockingbird Lane. If you're not familiar with the Dallas traffic, let me tell you that road is congested even on a weekday evening. Initially, I sat leaning with my back against the passenger door with my one foot extended toward him and the other leg bent at the knee. I thought it was a sexy pose and I would drop my knee to the side to spread my legs in a teasing gesture. I wanted to be an asshole and torment him.

We both continued to hit his bottle with some reckless abandonment. We didn't have much in common to talk about except our usual nightly phone sex topics. He requested that I get naked as we drove to our destination. He said it was a short drive to where we were going. I mentioned that I was worried about the police busting me being nude. He just looked at me long and hard without much expression or any verbal response.

Hesitantly, I removed my shirt and pants and sat them on the floor.

Surprisingly, he snatched up my pants and placed them on the dash as is they were a trophy. I reached to retrieve my clothes and Bill grabbed my wrist firmly.

"No", was all he said.

I moved over and leaned into to him on the bench seat as if I were his girlfriend snuggled on our first romantic rondeau. I was resting on my side in a fetal position to avoid being seen. The windows were down from our earlier introduction. The night breeze felt soothing on my aroused, engorged skin and the whiskey buzz had really started to loosen up the atmosphere. I started to rub his leg and squeezed his crotch while whispering raunchy, rehearsed porno scene as he drove. I unzipped his pants and he helped in lowering them enough to get hand access to his cock and balls. His cock was long and hung limp at least the 6" that he described. He had a thick mushroom shaped head that was partially hidden by his uncut foreskin. His balls were full and floated in the wrinkled ball sack that old men seem to acquire through many years of gravity. I gripped his cock and began to rhythmically stroke him with while my imagination lusted to see him fully erect.

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