The Little Leather Thong

I could see he was considering it. "Now, look at my lips and think what I told you.

He looked at my lips holding his meaty slab there a mere inch away. Barely audibly, I heard him whispering to himself, "I do. I love your lips. They look fantastically erotic. I know we're gonna love this, man."

Here I was teaching him my tricks, he was doing exactly as I told him, and somehow I was thinking, "Yes, I have great lips. Of course he would like my lips on his cock."

At this point he laid the head of his cock on my lips. I recoiled initially then reasoned that it felt like skin and nothing else. It was softer than other skin, but in the end it was just skin.

Then he went off script, "Lips were made for cock. Could there be a better match." When the guy was right, he was right.

He kept up his monologue, talking to himself about me, "This is going to be soo good. It's been months since I've enjoyed a blowjob. He's gonna absolutely love my cock in his mouth. I'm never gonna think of lips the same way again."

Then he was speaking to me, "You're lips are beautiful. You're always going to know how good they are for blowjobs. I bet you'll never think of your lips the same way again. I bet you'll never think of a leather bolo the same way again either." He chuckled at his own joke.

I smiled weakly at his teasing joke, noticing how it caused the contact between his cock and my lips to change.

He noticed my smile and, mistaking my intent, announced, "Wow, You're right, Man. When I believe you like my cock then you really do!" I didn't want to burst his bubble by letting him know I didn't want his cock. After all, my two best options were to get away or get it over.

Over the years I've taught my secrets to a few guys. Well I've tried. Too few get it. After months of lessons and seed sowing they never truly believed their wives would like it so it never worked for them. But John here was a natural. He had to be either an emotional genius or a sociopath.

With his cock gently resting on my lips he continued in his crash course. "My dick looks so much better now that I've cleaned it up. You think it looks nice?" Stoically, I inspected it carefully, analyzing his words and his cock. He was right. It looked pretty nice now. It smelled good too. His ball hair was all trimmed. The words that came to my mind were, 'virile', 'strong', and 'handsome'. I just nodded.

"Your lips are soft and feel good on my dick. I bet it feels good on your lips to you too." Well, I was right about him needing to wash it and he listened and took my advice. Strictly as a scientific observation I had to admit that it felt clean and good. I nodded again.

"Once it's in your mouth it's going to feel so good. Your mouth will be so wet and warm. It's not too big yet. It'll be soft and fit nicely. When you swab the bottom with your tongue and suck on the first couple inches you'll drive me to new heights." He was right again. He was going to love it.

"You've never had a cock in your mouth before." It was a statement but I nodded again. "But you know that every girl you meet is going to love sucking cock." Well of course I did. "It's because sucking on an outstanding specimen is no big deal. Fifty percent of the population loves it because it's a naturally fun activity. You might love it too. Can you say with all certainty that you won't?"

Well not 100% I couldn't. There's always that slim chance I supposed. I shook my head this time.

He twisted my line and used it against me, "I won't force you unless you want me to. I won't grab your head - unless you want it. You won't know if you like it unless you try it. Just take the end in. Just the tip. Try it. Then you'll know."

He went to the head of the class. He was using techniques I never taught him. And it was working. Lots of people did like it. I wouldn't know unless I tried it. What would it hurt?

In contrast if I held my ground, with my balls tied to the chair, in the end he could just rape my mouth. That could hurt.

It was a very pleasant looking dick. I was willing to consider the possibility of trying it but couldn't quite pull the trigger. His voice was calm and reassuring. How did he learn that? That wouldn't be for another few lessons. He continued playing with me, "Just open a tiny bit and the smallest part of it will simply fall inside."

I did nothing. I didn't open, nor did I resist. John moved back until his meat was about three inches from my lips but still pointing directly at me. "You weren't ready for it to fall in even though you want it. And it's gonna taste so good too. I'm gonna love it. You're gonna love it. But you have to admit you're ready to try."

His tone changed from mellow to commanding, "Look me in the eyes." In turn he looked directly into my eyes, challenging me to blink. Appraising me he said, "I've owned that bar for five years and I've learned to read people. I know you'll never betray who you are. You're good at handling other people but can you handle yourself?

We've tied you thoroughly by the balls. Look at your balls! How are they doing?" I examined them carefully. The leather cord pinched them above the actual testicles. It was tight, probably constricting my vas deferens and some blood supply. My stretched out sack was pulled pretty tight. It didn't look all that healthy but it also didn't look like they were in any immediate danger either.

"Look me in the eyes again. If we threatened to leave you tied all weekend you would fold. But now you've got me on learning something new. I can't force you. I need you to want it. And you do. You just can't admit it.

So listen to me. As a professional wrangler you play games all the time. Games to tie hogs. Games to ride bulls. Games to beat the other cowboys. Your whole life is dominance. Sometimes you win, but sometimes you lose. There's no shame in losing. It's part of the game.

You like playing games. You don't even really care if you win or lose as long as you can play. So we're gonna play a game." He reached out with the hand that was not holding his huge cock. He placed his hand on the back of my head again. Then he did nothing for a long time.

Finally he spoke, "If you open your mouth you won't be sucking cock. It's an insignificant act. You will just be sitting there with your mouth open. Now, open your mouth." He was right. I wouldn't be sucking his cock. I opened my mouth.

"If you leaned forward now. Well, then you would be sucking my cock. Do you want to lean forward?" He waited. Then smirked. " That's right. If you leaned forward it wouldn't be a game.

But if I use my hand to pull you onto my cock. Well, then it would be a game. It would be a dominance game. Sometimes you win a game and sometimes you lose. It doesn't matter as long as you play.

If I force you onto my cock I don't learn your system. Unless I force you and you want to be forced. If I force you onto my cock who could say it was real force or a game of force. Would either of us even be able to tell the difference?" He was right again. We both knew he was right.

I had taught him part of my method and he was using it on me. Convincing me that we both agreed and wanted the same thing. But I hadn't taught him that part yet. Maybe he was just right.

He started to pull my head. My open mouth was getting closer to his cockhead. If he forced me then I had taught him nothing. It would only be because I was tied by my balls. Unless it was a game.

If it was a game his cock could go in my mouth with no honor lost. It would just be a test to see how horrible it was or wasn't.

The distance between that beautiful yet threatening eye, peeking out from beneath its covering, and me got smaller and smaller. I saw veins running along the length of his tool and wondered how much more pronounced they would become when he thickened up.

He skinned back the extra skin, revealing the crown for the first time. I could see the texture of another man's dickhead in vivid clarity. Being just two inches away it was the clearest look I'd ever had of a cock. The texture is hard to describe, it definitely wasn't totally smooth like the proverbial baby's bottom. It looked velvet smooth yet had a grain like some fine fabric.

The soft skin, the manly veininess, the velvety texture...they all combined to impress upon my mind an image of an organ that women would love. A few men, too, I supposed. Just not me.

It hung there before me drooping down in a graceful arc in his hand. He towered above me enough that the droop caused it to be better angled toward my wide open mouth rather than below my chin. I watched that cock take up more of my field of vision as the gap closed.

I had thought he was shifting his hips closer to me until I realized that the lessening pressure on my balls must mean I wasn't leaning as far back. It was my mouth getting closer to his cock. The idea filled me with fear - not the fear of getting closer to it, but the dread that I was doing it of my own volition.

With my attention diverted away from the approaching fat sausage I was able to be more aware of other sensations. The most obvious sensation was the, previously mentioned, lessening of pressure on my balls. Secondly, I felt John's hand firmly planted on the back of my head.

This brought me great relief: I wasn't leaning into his cock, he was pulling me in. Him forcing me absolved me of responsibility. My hands flew up to his thighs pushing hard against him despite the threat to my balls if I should fall back.

John laughed then said, "You love it! And your struggle proves it." I had no idea how I felt about his words. Was I really struggling because I loved it? Or did it make more sense that I was struggling because I didn't love it? How could I know so little about myself?

He drew my head closer and closer while my neck muscles strained so I could stay back. He was winning and he kept up the steady pace until his soft cockhead began invading the space inside of me. It didn't touch the sides anywhere because I was holding my lips so widely open.

After the thick soft tube was maybe an inch inside I had to hold my tongue down to avoid touching it. When it was another half inch in, that strategy no longer worked and contact was made.

My nerves were running high so my mouth was drier than cotton. When the head touched me it was a dry penis lying on a dry tongue. He attempted to slide it to and fro on my tongue but since it wouldn't slide he just ended up shaking it around slapping the inside of my cheeks.

When his strong hand pulled me down another inch it was touching the roof of my mouth and my tongue simultaneously. John's eyes bore into mine, "Your mouth is sandpaper. Is that gonna make for a good blowjob?" I answered 'no' with my eyes. "No one should suffer through a bad blowjob. It would give blowjobs a bad name. You're gonna have to work up some saliva."

I knew he was right. I kinda shifted my tongue trying to swipe up some spit. I could feel his frenulum clear as day. It was too hard to create any spit with my lips wide open so I closed them. I tried to let only my lips and tongue touch the great beast, doing whatever I could to puff out my cheeks.

It worked in part. With a wet tongue the motions required to gather more lubrication caused me to swathe those first few inches of the bottom of his head and shaft. John groaned in pleasure and I knew without a doubt my tongue felt good to him.

"OK Cowboy, I think you're gonna want a whole lot more than that once we get going." I'd had thousands of blowjobs and I'd seen plenty of girls struggle when it wasn't wet enough so it only made sense.

Sucking the spit out of my salivary glands every part of my mouth sucked on his thick dick as well. "Oh Man, now we're talking! I knew you were going to suck me the moment you so willingly held your mouth open. You could have clammed up and I would have had to force the first inch but you were so polite to keep your teeth out of the way for that virgin entry.

I really liked fighting with you but now I'm liking the submissiveness just as much. I'm thrilled with how much you're liking it."

John began pushing and pulling his shaft in and out, which wobbled this way and that, being so soft. At one point it bent and flopped out. He grabbed the escaping member with his free hand plopping it back into my vacated cavity.

The swelling tumescence was filling more of me now, both because he was inserting more of it and also because it was bigger. I've been around the world but I've never seen a man's hard tool before. I was curious to know how big it would get. Is that strange? There was a cock in my mouth and instead of revulsion I was curious. I even felt a glimmer of desire.

Mine is five inches soft and eight hard. His had appeared to be seven soft so would it grow to ten, or longer? How long could they get? I mean a horse's cock is over three feet long. I supposed that if men could get that big I would've heard about it before.

He grabbed my head now with both hands saying, "That's right. You were born a cocksucker. Suck it. Suck it real nice like a good girl." He was losing control of the situation. His orders were misplaced and miss-timed. Calling me a girl was the wrong approach too. But I didn't have the resolve to wrangle any more. In fact, while by some accounts I was working against my goals, I wanted to see it fill out.

He was hardly growing but when I considered putting my all into it I'd lost any developing desire. Frustrated he jammed the half hard member quickly in and out expecting me to reciprocate his passion.

I guess I don't respond to feminization and untruths.

Grasping handfuls of my hair he lost control of his own emotions too, "Oh you bitch. What's wrong with you? I followed all the lessons but you aren't sucking and your dick's a noodle." He hadn't actually followed all my lessons. He hadn't even heard them all, and before I could teach him he went off the reservation.

He reamed my yap hard and fast but couldn't get fully hard. His relentless assault was more dogged than an angry honker's. And I've outlasted the best of them. He jerked my head up and down again and again. He was a bronco I could ride out.

A few more minutes of this and he would have to admit his impotence then give up. But what then? Captive and helpless if he retaliated, the leather thong on my balls limited me as badly as a bull in a flank strap.

I had to play the game better 'n him. I wouldn't bail out, I would bear down and hang on till the eight second bell. I spurred him on finally doing what he wanted as I sucked dog-hungry on his cock.

That did the trick beautifully and he grew rapidly to his full length. By the time the rigid pole was inflated it was like nine inches long, most of it sticking out of my mouth obscenely.

I was really getting into it, bobbing furiously to bring him off fast. I could only get so much into my mouth so I began using my hands to stimulate the remaining shaft and his balls.

He was still controlling my head with strong hands. I worried he would try to drag me all the way down to the root but somehow he never tried.

I was thinking how great it was to be a cocksucker for the first time, having been a cock giver so many times before. I don't know if I would have felt that way if his cock weren't so pleasingly gargantuan. Then again, he was a jerk. I just might like a more modest penis on a standup guy.

So those were my thoughts when Sharon's captivating face appeared right next to mine. Her smile was radiant and the feel of her naked breasts, as they coincidentally rubbed against my arm, sent a thrill through my being.

I could see she was enjoying my situation immensely. But did she just like that someone other than her was responsible for John's orgasm? Maybe she got off on seeing men suck cock? She had participated in making that happen before.

Sharon took hold of my throbbing taut cock saying, "Gosh, you really are enjoying this aren't you?" I couldn't answer, stuffed as I was. Her smile widened. Then she leaned closer whispering in my ear so only I could hear, "If a man like you can like it, then I could too. You've proved it to me." All the while she was stroking my cock, even caressing and soothing my forsaken balls.

It seemed to be a monumental effort of sheer will on her part. But as John and I were fucking my mouth quick and passionately, she moved her lips to my fist which was jacking his thick cock and kissed my knuckle. Then impulsively she kissed the side of John's pole.

Having exercised that brief moment of courage she sat back on her haunches just in time to see that massive log swell another inch in length then begin pulsating as he pumped cum into my mouth. Her kiss had done the trick.

My own cock jumped in preorgasmic jerks a few times, but the tight thong trapping my balls inhibited my ability to cum.

First I felt the slimy slick puddle ooze out onto my tongue then the secondary explosions splattered and ricocheted off the roof of my mouth. It wasn't yummy, but it wasn't bad either. I kinda liked the viscous texture. To me it tasted like victory. I had won the game even if he thought he was the winner.

I had an inexplicable desire to see if I couldn't get that cock down my gullet. I sucked with my mouth and pulled on his thighs forcing the huge cock, which was becoming less rigid by the second, into the recesses of my throat. It wasn't easy but it went down - well, most of it. It was still a success. I heard Sharon gasp in wonder.

After a moment John moved his hands to my forehead pushing me off dismissively. He patted me on the top of my head, "Best blowie ever." Then he stumbled over to a couch, lay down, and oddly, fell fast asleep.

Wiping my sore lips with the back of my hand I spoke more to myself than to Sharon, "I bet it was. I never do anything half-ass."

Sharon moved from the side of the lounge chair to the foot. Kneeling there for the third time tonight she leaned forward again. Again her weight pressed down on the wicker. By now my nuts were a little tender from being bound so long, so the pulling that her shifting weight caused to the thong was painful.

Having seen me enjoy giving a blowjob I wondered if she was thinking about sucking my

member back to life. Her head rested on my thigh again placing those plump cherry painted and sexy lips tantalizingly close to my abused plums.

She wrapped her arms around the chair, reaching underneath and making me realize she was going to untie my aching jewels. It took her awhile to undo the tight knot but when she did there was a welcome surge of blood back into my sack.

Sharon rubbed my scrotum lightly cooing, "I'm sorry for what we did to you. I'm never gonna be part of this again. I think I'll learn to like oral sex instead: you make it look so easy and fun."

It wasn't easy - but it was fun, so when she begged me to forgive her, even accidentally comforting my nethers with falling tears, I actually believed she had turned a new leaf and forgave her.

She tenderly tucked a cold compress under my boys helping me to recover. She seemed genuinely concerned for their welfare staying there between my legs, offering her ministrations.

It helped, the discomfort receded, so when the half naked beautiful woman asked if there was anything else she could do, I told her we should go into the bedroom, for her next lesson.

Now I've received a lot of very willing blowjobs from a lot of young enthusiasts, but I've never seen one bounce into the bedroom as joyously before. Enthusiasm is the number one needed quality in a good blowjob and she had that in spades.

True to her newfound appreciation for the oral delights she delivered a top notch, though amateurish, suck fest, including a boob job worthy of praise.

When we were done she clung to my body like she was afraid to see me go. Regarding her approach to a man's sex parts she was a new person. She just couldn't seem to keep her hands, and lips off of my gifts.