Simon Says So



"So what did you make me for breakfast?" Simon, my boyfriend's older brother who shared our apartment asked me. He snaked his hand underneath my arm and around my waist to get to the frying pan. A little too close as always. I mostly ignored him. But I have to say in the last six months after all us moving in together, nothing bonded me and Simon and more than snarky banter.

"Get off Simon. I don't have time for this." I upended the frying pan into the dish on the counter and rushed back into the bedroom to check if my hair straightner had warmed up. Camren, my boyfriend, was still in bed. We had been working opposite shifts which meant we hardly got to see each other. Whenever I complained about that within earshot of Simon, Simon always made it a point to say that if I just squinted a little bit I could pretend Simon was Camren. Which wasn't entirely untrue. Besides certain strikingly different facial features, both were a little over 6'2, black, with these arms that you just wanted to do chin ups off of. Or of course, let yourself get swallowed into. But despite that, Camren was a serial monogamist and Simon, was in the Guinness Book of World Lechers.

When I got home that evening around 5, Simon hadn't come home yet and Camren had already left. I made dinner, ate and left some for Simon in the oven. Minutes after I went back into the bedroom I think I passed out because the next thing I knew it was 8 PM and I could hear that the TV was on. I doubted that Simon had the presence of mind to check the oven for food so I decided to go out and say hi. As soon as I walked out the door I could see the living room TV and on the screen was the worst kind of modern porn with people just going at each other and something gave me the feeling that Simon wasn't just idly watching. I stepped back into my room unable to suppress a smile. After all how could I not do the whole snarky thing over this. I'd caught him jerking off. I opened the door again and despite slight feelings of apprehension about walking in on him I got to a few feet behind the couch before I stopped. I half coughed before saying, "Simon, really, it's not like you don't have a TV in your room. Do you really have to do that here?"

"The DVD player is broken," Simon said rather simply without breaking attention from the screen. Not the response I was hoping for. I was hoping for more of a jumping out of his skin response. And plus being snarky just isn't all that fun when he won't play.

"Simon, seriously, ew, you can't do that there. It's more than a little gross."

Simon said nothing for a full minute, still jerking off.


Still nothing but he turned down the volume of the DVD player.

"Do you really want me to stop jerking off?" he asked. I got the feeling he didn't have the greatest day at work. He had been having some problems there that I knew of and now I felt a little bad – just a little – about teasing him when he was pissed off about something.

"I have no problem with you jerking off. I'm sure you have your—"

"Do you want me to stop jerking off?" he cut me off a little strongly.

"Yes," I said obstinately, even though I was starting to feel rather uncomfortable in this conversation. This was supposed to be "ha ha" funny. It didn't seem to be heading in that direction. He just sounded like he was this odd sort of angry-calm.

"Then come here," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll stop if you come here."


"I want to show you what you are missing out with little Camren when big Simon's just a few feet away."

"You are unbelievable." I hesitated a little. That sounded more like him. Less serious. But I still knew the only rational thing to do was to turn around, walk back in my room and complain to Camren about it later. But I hesitated for a few seconds too many. Before I could move towards my room I heard him get up. He almost never wore his shirt around the apartment and it wasn't the first time I had seen him in his boxer briefs but there was something threatening about his face tonight.

"Come here." He demanded standing next to the couch.

The porno was still running in the background, but this time, I guess because his shorts were pulled up, this time I went.

"Sit," he said.

"I'm really not all that into porn—" I started before he cut me off.

"Sit." He repeated a little more sternly.

I sat.

He came and stood directly in front of me, trapping me in between him and the couch, pushing against my knees, locking me into place. I could no longer see the DVD but because the overly exaggerated sounds it was making I could involuntarily form a pretty good mental picture.

"Simon, you know...," I paused trying to think of something funny, witty, even antagonistic to say to break the weird vibe. But I couldn't think. I could, however, smell him. And I could see him. He had been halfway through jerking off which was pretty obvious not just from the hard lump at my eye level but also from the smell of gathering precum and sweat that whiffed out of there.

"Shh..," he said, running his hand reassuringly down my face and squeezing my shoulders. I shivered a little at the lightness of his touch and tried to stop my body from inching into his hand as he ran it down my arm. He stood up tall. Or rather taller, arched his back looking up at the ceiling and then finally looked down at me again. I still hadn't quite accepted my situation yet. He couldn't be serious. Not that he had done anything yet. But hadn't he? Any minute now he could just start cracking up and I'd feel like an idiot especially if I did something ridiculously dramatic like pushing him off me and jumping off the couch which every instinct in my body told me to do. But then he'd be able to tease me about it forever.

Then I saw him reaching into his shorts. And while looking straight at me, he started rubbing himself. He slowly began to pull his cock out again. My eyes fixed for a second on his cock and then glued themselves to the floor. He let me keep them there for a minute while threading his free hand through my hair and then suddenly jerked my hair by the fistful, pulling my face up.

"Look at me," he stated.

"Simon this isn't funny anymore."


"Good. Then please move," I said half-assedly pushing against his thighs.

He jerked my hair again. Harder this time."No."

"Simon, Simon please. This is not funny." I repeated starting to panic.

"Open your mouth," he said ignoring me.

For a fleeting second I thought about doing something ridiculously cliché like mentioning Carmen and how Simon was standing with his cock out in front of his brother's girlfriend. But I figured stating the obvious would be insulting his intelligence and mine. I was starting to pant but as I hesitated a few seconds too long I felt him increase the pressure on my hair that he had just about let go off. I lightly tried to push at his thighs again trying to see if he would finally give. But he didn't. Instead he increased the pressure on my hair stretching my neck upwards.

So I opened my mouth.

He slid his cock into my mouth and four inches, about half of it, went in pretty easily. He started slowly moving in and out softly establishing a slow rhythm. He wasn't any longer than Camren but he was thicker. And as he fed more and more in I could really feel the stretch on my lips. After a few minutes he established a steady rhythm and then – for some god awful reason –I think just to relieve some of the stress, I voluntarily put my hand on his cock and started pumping it and I started to bob my head at the rhythm he had established. He let lose his grip on my head and I pushed him backwards and I heard the coffee table skid behind him has he made room for me on my knees between him and the couch. I had been giving head since I was 14 and in the last 10 years I had gotten pretty good at it. It's odd to say but I felt comfortable doing it. I could shut everything else out while I was going down on a guy and just concentrate on responding to the cock I had in my mouth. And that's what I did because the situation I was in was too absurd to comprehend. I concentrated on just sucking his cock for a full 10 minutes. I varied the rhythm when I thought necessary, occasionally pulling it out and sucking on his balls. Then I'd start again by sucking the head and playing with it with my tongue and slowly letting more and more of his cock into my throat with each bob of my head. After about 10 minutes I felt his thighs where I was holding onto them get to a certain point of tightness that told me he was in the final stage before cumming when the muscles in your entire body go rigid with anticipation.

I thought he'd let me finish him off but I felt him suddenly tighten the grip on my hair and before I was ready for it he started thrusting forward into my mouth faster and faster. I tried to keep up till I knew I couldn't and just let him use my mouth. I concentrated instead at pushing out against his thighs, instead of holding on to them. I tried everything I could to sneak a breath in. My hair felt like he was pulling it out in an effort to keep my face still as he violently drilled into mouth again and again. My lips were stretched so hard around his cock and I thought I could feel them cracking with a sharp pain. He kept thrusting and thrusting and thrusting making me hurt till I felt his cock twitch.

He held me down against his balls, stuffing as much of his cock down my throat as possible. He seemed to be enjoying the spasms of my gagging throat trying to throw up, not throw up, and find a breath all at the same time, but with my throat closed off I could do none of those things. I couldn't breathe at all and I had no reserve air left. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe. Fuck fuck fuck I couldn't breathe. I started to panic and what was only a couple of minutes of chocking felt like half an hour. I scratched, gashing his legs trying to remind him I was a live person not a Kleenex he was jerking off into. His cum sputtered down my throat and even after he was finished cumming he held me down, his pelvis still thrust against my face, till his cock completely stopped twitching and stood still for awhile.

Finally he pulled me off his cock by my hair and as I came up for air coughing and sputtering, he let me go. I collapsed against the floor like a rag doll lacking the energy or the wherewithal to move. He backed up a few steps and lifted my chin so I was looking at him eye to eye again. He then proceeded to say the most ridiculous but somehow appropriate thing. Smiling, he patted me gently on the top of my head and said, "Good girl."

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