Neighborhood Bitch

"C'mon, I'm dying here," Chris pleaded. "I ain't had nothing but my hand for a week, dude."

We were deep in the woods behind our subdivision, which we used as a shortcut to the shopping mall where we hung out. Chris was bitching the whole way about not getting laid lately and had suddenly stopped, pulled his dick out of his pants, and asked (BEGGED) me to suck him.

"No way," I said. I was only half shocked. We'd joked about doing each other if the supply of pussy dried up, but I never expected him to be serious about it.

"Just once, 'cuz we're best friends," he said, moving closer to me. "I'll never tell anyone, I promise. Just get me off. It'll only be this once until I find another chick to bang."

We'd been best friends for as long as I could remember. However, we were unlikely best friends. Chris was a big, strapping young man, well over 6 feet and solidly built. He played football, basketball, and was captain of the track team at school. I, on the other hand, was a fairly small guy, barely 5' 5" and 110 pounds. Mom was tiny and I inherited her frame.

Chris was also the horniest son of a bitch I ever knew, too. I know of three girls at school he had been fucking plus Mrs. Jowett, the MILF down the street from us. I hadn't believed him that he was screwing her, but he managed to get the blinds cracked open once and I peek in from outside when he was slamming his dick into her. He also claimed to have screwed two teachers at school. And I mean AT school, on the campus grounds. I wasn't sure if I believed him or not, but it was plausible.

The only girl I ever had sex with was Stacy Jowett, Mrs. Jowett's oversexed daughter, but then again so had everyone else. She was a year older than us at 19, and Chris claimed that she was his first. She was my first, and probably a bunch of other guys, too.

While our senior year at high school was a sexual feast for him, graduation meant famine. Mrs. Jowett got pregnant, something of a miracle since her husband had had a vasectomy years before. I'd never know if the baby was Chris's or not....they moved shortly before graduation and nobody had heard from them since. The girls (and supposed teachers) were unavailable, and with both Stacy and Mrs. Jowett gone, he had nothing but his hand to relieve his pent-up frustrations.

"Dude, I'm getting blue balls," he griped. "If I don't get something soon, my balls are going to explode." As he said this, his hand slid down my arm and grabbed my hand, placing it on his rigid cock.

"Fuck, dude, I'm NOT going to suck your dick!" I tried to pull my hand away, but he held my wrist firmly.

"Don't you owe me for hooking you up with Stacy Jowett?" he asked. "Owe me just a little bit at least? Wasn't she a great fuck?"

His grip on my wrist starting moving my hand up and down his cock, stroking him. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, to be honest. He had a big dick, much bigger than mine, and it did feel kind of good in my hand.

"Yeah, I do, I guess, a little bit," I admitted. "And yeah, she was a good fuck." I was being honest with the former, but not with the latter. The whole episode with Stacy lasted maybe 10 minutes, including time to undress and dress, and I was too nervous to even think about trying to make it good for her too. She just kinda laid there while I furiously rammed my dick in and out of her pussy until I came. She never asked for a repeat performance.

"Well, then, you see?" He gleamed. "And you're not sucking my dick, you're helping me out with a big problem. It's not gay or anything, just a best friend helping out his best friend."

Fuck. The way he put it, it sounded like no big deal, like helping him with his homework or giving him a hand mowing his dads yard. It didn't help that the more I stroked his cock, the more turned on *I* was getting. I don't know why, but I was.

"Just this once?" I asked, realizing that his grip on my wrist was gone and I was stroking his cock of my own volition.

"Just this once," he answered, grinning.

"And nobody, I mean NOBODY, ever finds out about it?" I said.

"Nobody. Ever," he promised.

I thought for a bit. As long as it was just this once and nobody found out about it, I would do it, I nodded and said, "Okay, how do we do this?"

He flashed a million-dollar smile at me. "Just get down on your knees," he said.

Without releasing my grip on his cock, I slowly sank to my knees.

"Now just lick it a bit, then put it in your mouth," he said.

Without a word, my tongue slowly extended and licked the very tip of his cock. The taste wasn't as nasty as I'd thought it'd be. I slowly circled his cockhead with my tongue, tasting his pre-cum that was already pearling at his slit.

"Yeah, like that," he groaned, looking down at me. "Now take the whole thing in your mouth."

My hand dropped away from his cock as my lips covered his cockhead. The first impression I had was that I liked the taste of his cock and the precum that was tangy and kind of spicy. He moaned as I slowly took his cock into my mouth until his cockhead nudged into the back of my throat, making me gag. I pulled back, then took him deep again. I quickly figured out how to take his cock deep in my mouth without me gagging, and started softly sucking as my mouth slid up and down his shaft. "God, your mouth feels fantastic," he said, his eyes clenched shut. His hands were resting on top of my head. My face flamed red at the compliment, whether from embarrassment or because I liked the compliment and shouldn't have.

After a minute or two of mouth sliding up and down his cock, his fingers curled around my hair and he started pumping his hips, driving his cock in and out of my mouth faster and harder.

"Jesus," he mumbled. "I'm gonna give you so much cum that you're gonna choke on it."

I'd stopped trying to service him, and just hung on for the ride. He was fucking my face furiously, shoving his cock almost down my throat with each push. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and groaned loudly as his pulsing cock shot jet after jet of hot, spicy cum into my mouth. I gagged, then swallowed, then swallowed again. He didn't stop fucking my mouth until the last weak throb pushed the remnants of his orgasm into my mouth.

"Yessssssssss," he hissed, slowly releasing the grip he had on my hair. "Damn, I needed that."

I stayed on my knees before him, feeling his cock start to soften in my mouth. My own dick was rock hard and throbbing in my pants....not that I'd admit that to him, of course. I shouldn't have enjoyed that but I had, and if I stood up at that moment my excitement would have been obvious to him.

He looked down at me, the sight of me on my knees with his cock in my mouth making it throb and threaten to grow again. I slowly pulled my head back, his cock popping out of my mouth and leaving a slimy trail on my lower lip and chin, then stood up. I quickly adjusted myself, hoping that he wouldn't see my hardon.

I should have asked him to return the favor, but somehow I knew he wouldn't now that his need had been satisfied. On top of that, I didn't want him to. I kind of enjoyed being the one sucking. I was quite amazed at that realization.

"Wipe your face, dude," he laughed. "You look like some fag that just sucked a guy off."

"Fuck you," I laughed back, quickly wiping my face with my sleeve.

He pushed his now-limp cock back into his pants and zipped his pants up, and we started walking towards the other side of the woods and the mall.

"Nobody finds out, right?" I said.

"Nobody," he promised.

We made it to the mall, goofed off for a couple of hours, then headed home. Halfway back through the woods, I had an almost-irresistible urge to ask him if he needed to be relieved again. I wanted to suck his cock again. My dick got raging hard just thinking about it.

I kept silent, however. He just needed to get off earlier. I was his best bud that helped him out, and it needed to stay that way. I didn't want him thinking that I was a fag.

It was almost dark by the time we made it back to our street and we split up, heading to our respective homes. Mine was empty when I arrived, with a note on the fridge that read: "Gone out for a while. Getting dinner while we're out, so there's $$$ on the counter for you to order pizza. Love, Mom and Dad."

I was about to pick up the phone and dial Super Pizza when I heard a knock at the door. Mr. Gregory, an older neighbor from a few houses down, stood at the door holding a backpack. I didn't know him very well, except that he was a widower. There had been a couple rumors that he was a pervert too, but I had always thought that it was because he lived alone and a bit creepy looking.

"Hi, Joseph," he said. "Are your folks home?"

"No, Mr. Gregory," I answered. "They went out. They should be back in a couple of hours, though, if you'd like to come back then."

"No, I actually came to talk to you," he said. "May I come in?"

I was a bit taken aback by his request, but stepped back and let him into the house. I closed the door, then showed him into the living room. He sat down on the edge of the couch and I plopped into Dad's recliner.

"Did you know I bird-watched?" he asked.

He was creeping me out a bit, but I wanted to be polite. "No, I didn't," I responded.

"It's relaxing, and it was something that the missus and I did while she was alive, you know, walking through the quiet woods and seeing all the different kinds of birds," he said. He pulled an expensive, high-end digital camera out of the backpack. "I bought this a couple of months ago and started photographing birds, thinking that maybe I could write a bird-watching book."

The conversation was starting to really creep me out, enough that alarm bells were going off in my head.

"That's cool, Mr. Gregory," I said, trying to think of a way to politely end the conversation and get him out of my house. I wasn't coming up with anything, though.

"Got quite a few good shots today," he said, turning the camera on and playing with the buttons. "Lots of a certain species that I call the 'North American Cocksucker'."

He turned the camera around, and the screen showed me on my knees in front of Chris, his hands on my head. Although I couldn't see my face, I was wearing my retro Van Halen "1984" t-shirt, making It was obvious that the kneeling person was me. And from the pose and expression on Chris's face, it was obvious what was going on in the picture.

"Wh-wh-what?" I said, my heart pounding in my chest.

He advanced the images, showing me about 8 or 10 shots of me sucking Chris's cock, ending on the one where Chris's head was thrown back when he came in my mouth.

"I love this camera," he chuckled. "It has a hell of a zoom feature. You can almost count individual feathers on a bird from a hundred feet away."

He turned the camera off and shoved it back into the backpack.

My mouth opened and closed, trying to say something but nothing would come out.

"At first, I was going to show this to your parents, to let them know what a nasty boy their son is," he said, his eyes drilling into me. "You know what stopped me?"

"N-n-no," I stuttered.

"The idea of you on your knees sucking ME," he said, smiling, his hand moving down to his pants. "The image of your tight little ass crammed full of my cock. You take care of me, and I'll keep the pictures as our little secret. What do you think?"

My hands were shaking. "I'm not gay," I said quietly. It might have been a lie. I wasn't sure.

"Couldn't prove that by those pictures," he said. He was stroking his cock through his pants. I could see the outline of it. It was big.

"This is blackmail," I said, nervously.

"Probably," he agreed. "You two were out in the open, so it's not like I invaded your privacy or anything. But, the question still remains of whether you want your parents to see these pictures or not. If you don't mind your folks seeing them, then it's no problem. I'm the secretary for the home owner's association, so I have both of their email addresses. I could get the pictures sent out tonight, even."

He leaned back into the couch, unzipped his pants, and fished his cock out. It was hard, big, and thick veins ran down its length. Chris was big, but Mr. Gregory's was bigger.

"Or...if you DON'T want them to see the pictures, then I suggest you get your tight little ass over here and start sucking my cock, bitch," he said. He spoke very calmly and levelly, which scared me more than if he had yelled at me.

Part of me wanted to suck him, but I don't know if it was to prevent the pictures from reaching my parents or to relive the episode with Chris in the woods. Part of me wanted to run. Part of me wanted to tell him to shove his damn camera up his damn ass. Conflicted, I just sat there, frozen.

He stared at me for a few long seconds then stood up, his hard cock looking weird sticking out of his pants. Pushing himself back into his pants, he said, "I hope your parents are more understanding than most."

Zipping his pants back up, he turned and started walking towards the front door. I watched him silently, my mind racing.

"Wait."

I was surprised that the word came out of my mouth. I didn't consciously say it, it just came out on it's own.

He turned back to face me. "Yes?"

"I...I...I'll do it. Just please don't let those photos get out," I said. Tears of panic and shame were starting to well in my eyes.

He smiled, a small evil little smile that said he knew he'd won. "Fine....but since you wasted my time just now, the price just went up."

"What price? What do you mean, it went up?" I asked, my voice breaking. Jesus, what did this guy want?

He walked over to me and caressed the side of my face. "Now you have to be my bitch. My whore. You'll do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

The caress turned into a slap.

"Say it," he said, unzipping his fly again.

"Yes.....I...I will be your bitch," I said, tears streaming down my face now.

A second slap.

"What else?" he demanded.

Trying to remember what he said, I stammered, "I'll be your whore. I'll do what you say, when you tell me to."

His one hand resumed his caress of the side of my face while his triumphant little smile returned to his face. The other hand completed pulling his still-hard cock from his pants.

"That's a good little bitch," he murmured, his hand sliding to the back of my head and pulling my face towards his cock. "Now suck my cock."

Slowly, I got out of the recliner and shakily dropped to my knees before him. I was still conflicted...I didn't want to do this....I DID want to do this. His hard cock bobbed in front of my face, making the whole scene seem surreal.

"Go ahead, whore," he said. "You know you're a little cocksucker and you want this, don't you?"

My lips went around his cockhead, and he hissed in pleasure. Without any preamble, I took almost his whole length in my mouth. It tasted bad/good/funny/weird. My nose was blocked from the snot caused by my crying, and I gasped air in around his cock, then closed my mouth on him again.

"That's right, cunt," he moaned. "Suck me. Suck the cum out of my balls."

My hands found his thighs as I started sliding his cock in and out of my mouth. As I did with Chris, I took his whole length in until I gagged, then backed off. I could get more cock in now than I could earlier today. He shifted, throwing me off-balance and off-rhythm, but I recovered and went back to pleasing his cock.

"Look up at me," he commanded.

My eyes looked upward as he nudged against the back of my throat again, and was instantly blinded by a flash. Shit! He had taken the camera out of the backpack again, and now he had a picture of his cock deep in my mouth to add to his collection.

Several more flashes occurred while I continued to service his cock. Then I felt him shift again as he put the camera away. I heard the backpack fall to the floor, then felt both of his hands grasp my head.

"That's my good little slut," he murmured as he started pumping his cock in and out of my mouth. "Take Daddy's dick. Suck on it while I fuck your pretty face."

That's exactly what I did, since it was impossible to control how much of his cock was going in and out of my mouth. I sucked as hard as a could, taking occasional gasps of air. He was getting more and more forceful and I tried to back away from his cock, keep it from being forced down my throat, but his grip was too tight on my head.

"Take it," he groaned, "take it...take it.....ungh...yeah.....Daddy's gonna cum in your sweet mouth....take it........"

His cock was pistoning in and out of my mouth. Strangely, my own dick was tingling and threatening to grow.

"That's right, love on Daddy's cock, you useless fucking whore," he groaned. He was taking deep strokes into my mouth, saliva running past my lips and snot running down from my nose. God, i could barely breathe.

His hips moved frantically, then he exclaimed, "Daddy's going to cum, you hot little bitch! God, take my cum!"

He shoved his cock deep into my mouth as it started flooding cum into me. I gagged at the intrusion of his shaft into my throat, the air exploding out of my lungs and spraying his cum out of my mouth onto his groin and pants. I almost panicked, thinking I was going to suffocate, then relaxed and started swallowing as fast as I could. Glob after glob of his jism went down my throat into my roiling stomach. His cock immediately began softening, but I was afraid to take it out of my mouth until he told me to. His rapid breathing slowed, and I felt his whole body relax.

"Nasty little whore," he leered, looking down at me. "Look at the mess you made! Clean it up!"

I slowly let his cock fall from my mouth then started to stand to go get a washcloth, but he cuffed me on the side of the head.

"With your tongue, cunt," he growled. "Lick my cum up and don't waste any of it."

Reluctantly, I extended my tongue and licked as much cum as I could find from his pubic hairs, balls, and pants. After I was done, he shoved his withered cock back into his pants and pulled me up by my hair.

"Not bad," he said, patting me on my cheek. "You'll do nicely. You did a better job on my cock than some women I know." Then, he laughed. "And you'll only get better from this point on. Nothing beats experience, you know."

He turned and walked to the front door, then stopped.

"Be at my house at 9 AM tomorrow. You'll be busy all day, so don't make any other plans," he instructed. "Oh, and if you start to think about backing out.....if you don't show up tomorrow, I'll print these pictures out and nail them to every fucking telephone pole between here and city hall. Understand, slut?"

"Yes, sir," I said softly.

"Good," he said, opening the front door. "I'm really going to enjoy using you."

With that, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

I sat back down on the recliner, feeling specks of his cum dry on my face, not knowing what to think. Everything had happened so fast that it didn't quite seem real.

But I knew that I would be his house precisely at 9 the next morning. To my shame, I realized that I wanted to. I wanted to suck his cock again, and Chris's, and every other man's on earth.

It was early, but I got up off the recliner and went to my room. My own dick needed some attention.