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An Early Lesson in Cocksucking (Part One)
Late August of 1978, I packed my clothes--my entire wardrobe--and everything I owned into an Army-issued duffle bag my brother had given me. The duffle got loaded into the back of my brother's 1967 Bonneville and we set off for JFK airport.
My brother dropped me at the terminal, we said our good-byes, and I headed inside to check into my TWA flight that would take me to the Mid-west, where I would start college in about 4 days. I was alone. The first person in my little family to ever fly in an airplane or even venture further west than New Jersey.
After spending most of the day flying, with a connection and stop and layover in St. Louis, I arrived around 4:30 in the afternoon. A cab-ride later and I was checking into my dorm room on campus. I unpacked my duffle and put my clothes in the drawer. I was amused to find that I had taken a pair of my sister's Levi's with me. They'd be a little tight but not too tight that I couldn't wear them, I thought. I should mention that I was 5'8" and weighed about 125 pounds soaking wet. I wore my blonde hair long, down to my shoulders, and parted in the middle. I was in pretty good shape. I was not a gym-rat but I was tone all over. My legs were probably the best part of me because of all the walking I liked to do. At home, I would often go for 5- and 10-mile walks just to get out of the house. So, I probably weighed a little more than my sister but my legs were definitely bigger and more muscular than hers.
Orientation was a blur. I met a lot of nice people and got to know my way around the small campus. My roommate, Pete, seemed like a nice enough guy. He was from a suburb north of Chicago. His father and family owned what I learned later was a fairly famous restaurant in downtown Chicago. (You can read more about Pete in my story "Nicky the Greek," published on this site https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/nicky-the-greek.)
But this story is not about Pete. This story is about the first time I ever gave a guy a real blow job.
Like so many others of my age at that time, while I knew that I was attracted to guys I was afraid to do too much about it. I remember being at the community pool when I was in 9th grade and admiring the bulge in the front of a 12th grader's bathing suit. As I got older, I knew that I enjoyed checking out the guys in the porn magazines we somehow got our hands on more than the girls. Don't get me wrong, I was a teenager and perpetually horny--so I did get off looking at nice tits and hairy pussies, but I knew it was the cocks that really got my juices flowing.
My best friend, the guy next door, and I next door jacked each other off for a few years after we hit puberty and into high school. But one time I offered to blow him, he said "yes," but it was quick and not a lot of fun, as he clearly was freaked out by me having my lips on his cock. After that, I had never again acted on my one true desire with him--but we continued to jack each other off.
I fantasized about sucking a cock. But never got close again to having an opportunity.
Being so far away from home, I hoped that I would finally get to do what I'd only fantasized about.
I went to college in a small town. From campus you can walk down Main St. and be looking at the Illinois River in less than 20 minutes, if you walked at a good pace. I loved to walk and so my exploration very quickly included walking downtown at night, where I would sit on a park bench overlooking the river to watch the barges float slowly and quietly by. (You can read more about this cruisy park in my story "The Boy On The Bike" published on this site https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/the-boy-on-the-bike/.)
One such night I dressed in a white t-shirt and pulled my sister's Levis out of the drawer. I slipped one leg into them. It was tight. Real tight. I fell back on the bad and put my other leg into the pant hole. I lay back and pulled hard, literally wrenching both legs up past my calves and my knees and up over my hips to my stomach. The waist, amazingly, fit fine. I had no problem buttoning the jeans and zipping them up. But the legs looked liked they had been painted on. I considered changing and then decided it wasn't worth the effort.
I headed out of the dorm for a walk down Main St. It was about 9:30 at night, so there was very little traffic.
I walked to down to the river and sat on a bench watching the river flow. After about 20 minutes, I started my walk back. I got about 100' from the river park when a car pulled over beside me. The passenger window was down. The guy was alone, and he leaned over and asked me whether I needed a ride. I told him I was good and that I enjoyed the walk.
"Oh, that's too bad," he said, "I was hoping you might also like to have a beer or two with me." He smiled. I could see him clearly in the streetlight and saw that he was clean cut and normal looking and that he was just a little older than me and good looking.
Now, let me tell you two things: (1) I was completely oblivious to what was going on up to this point and (2) it was no safer to jump into a stranger's car in 1978 than it is today. So, being a complete idiot, I said "sure, that sounds cool." So, I opened the door, got in and we started driving up Main St. He told me that he worked for the college and lived in a house near campus. He asked me if it was ok if we went there. "Sure," I said.
As we drove, he asked me questions about where I came from, what brought me to the Mid-west, what I thought of the place, etc. If I felt nervous, I don't remember it now. But sometime within just a few minutes of getting into the car, it dawned on me that this was not "normal" and that I was probably in the process of being seduced by this guy. I didn't mind it and in fact the idea sent a jolt down to my cock as I realized that this night might be the night I finally get really suck a cock.
I looked over at him. I liked what I saw. He had brown hair that was full and thick and dropped to his shoulders. He had an unblemished face and big lips that reminded me of Mick Jagger. He had blue eyes and was very easy on the eye. I realized that his hair was cut in roughly the same style as Jagger's. I don't know if this guy wore it that way on purpose but I'm betting he did. He was wearing a denim button down shirt and a pair of Levi's that were pretty well bleached out.
"I'm Mark," he said. I replied in a whisper that my name was Joe.
I couldn't help glancing down at his crotch. The bulging denim fabric pressed up against the buttons of his 501's. He caught me looking and smiled.
We pulled down a side street near campus and he parked in front of a house, in the middle of the block. He told me he lived on the second floor. As we were both getting out of the car he asked: "you're 18, right?" "Yes," I said. And very quickly he said, "What year were you born?" Without a second's hesitation I responded: "August 1960." He smiled and said, "Happy Birthday."
I followed him up the concrete walk to his house. He had a nice wide porch that was bisected by the front door. We entered the single-story house and I looked around. To the left was a closed door. To the right was a living room and in front of me down the narrow hall I could see what looked like a kitchen. He pointed me into the living room. I walked in and saw that the living room connected through an open archway to a small dining room, which in turn connected on the left to the kitchen. Pretty standard design.
Nondescript lamps sat on each of two oversized Polk SDA2 speakers that served as end table at either side of a brown leather couch. The lamps gave off a soft light. A stereo was set up on a table in a corner. Classical music played softly and filled the room.
There were two chairs placed opposite the couch. He pointed in the general direction of the couch and chairs and told me to have a seat. I sat on the couch, near one end. He told me he'd be right back and disappeared into the dining room toward the kitchen.
A couple of minutes later he came back holding two cans of PBR. I wasn't really a drinker, but a beer sounded just right. He handed one to me and I opened it. He sat across from me in one of the chairs and we smiled at each other as we drank our beer. We sat and chatted for a bit, talking about a whole bunch of things but nothing specific. I was feeling good anticipating where this was headed. I prefer to go commando and I could feel my semi-aroused 6.5" cut cock pushing against my tight jeans.
He looked me up and down and said, "so, what should we do now?"
I don't know where I found the words, but I said to him "do you have a bedroom in this place? Maybe we could go there and sort it out."
He smiled again and I noticed that his teeth were white and perfectly straight. "Follow me," he said, and he walked across the hall and opened the door to his bedroom. I followed him in.
A nightlight close to the floor was the only light. An air-conditioner hummed softly in the window. This room was about 10 or 15 degrees cooler than the living room.
He pointed to the bed and told me to make myself comfortable. Excusing himself, he walked to the back side of the room and opened a door into a bathroom. I sat on the bed. I was a bit nervous, not knowing what I should do to get comfortable. I figured a good start would be to remove my sneakers, so I leaned over and untied each and placed them beside the bed, a white sock rolled up in each one.
I heard a strong stream of piss splashing into a toilet and the I heard the toilet flush. A few second later the door opened.
He was standing in the doorframe completely naked except for a pair of white BVD's. He was nicely tanned and the white briefs glowed bright against his dark skin. The pouch in the front stuck out and I could tell he had a hard-on. His chest was two perfect slabs with half-dollar-sized nipples slightly jutting forward. His stomach was flat and muscled. He was naturally smooth down to his belly button, a light whisp of hair trailing down beneath the waist band of his white underwear.
"Given any thought to what you'd like to do," he asked.
"Well," I gulped, "I should tell you I've never been with a guy like this before. But I've always fantasized about getting a really sexy massage that ends with me and the guy in the 69 position." He smiled. I was inwardly horrified: I could not believe I had just been that forward. But I could tell form the look on his face that it was ok.
I looked at his face and he was still smiling. "Really? Never? Well, let's take our time...and that sounds great to me," he said.
I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He kept smiling nicely as he walked toward the bed. I was sitting on the bottom edge. He got down on his knees, reached up and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling the zipper down with one hand as he popped the button at the waist with the other.
Now came the fun part. He grabbed my jeans from the waste and started to pull. I lifted up to make it easier for him to roll them down. He gasped slightly when he rolled my jeans down past my pubes to expose my rock-hard cock.
He continued to roll my jeans down over my cock, which was now pointing back up toward my chest. When he came to my thighs he was stopped.
"Sorry," I said, "I didn't think I'd be taking these off with anyone else tonight." Honestly, I had no idea where this flirty shit was coming from, but I felt emboldened by the fact that my cock was laying out there for him to see. He laughed and moved down to my ankles. He grabbed first the left leg and pulled mightily, bringing that leg down to about my calf and then he did the same with the right leg. He had to work at it but he finally got my pant legs down past my ankles and dropped the tight jeans to the floor.
"Well," he said, "you don't make it easy on a guy, do you?" We both laughed.
He stood back to look at me. Although not as deeply tanned as he, I did have a nice tan going, so my skin was brown to my waist, white to where my shorts ended on each leg, mid-thigh, and then brown again until my ankles, where my skin turned white again.
He grabbed me by the legs and swung me around on the bed so that I lay parallel to the headboard. Holding both ankles he slowly turned me over on my stomach. He walked into the bathroom and came back holding a bottle of oil.
After spreading some of the oil on his hands he slowly started to massage the calf of my right leg. He was kneading and rolling and using his fingers to stroke with varying pressure the backside of my leg, from the ankle to the back of the knee. His fingers danced like a spider on my skin as his hands slowly moved up to the back of my right thigh. He pushed and pulled and massaged my muscles for a little bit, drawing further up my leg to my exposed ass, but never going up to the cheek.
He stopped and then repeated the same maneuver on my left leg. I was in seventh heaven. My cock was rock hard and pressed against the bed spread. I was squirming with every touch.
He then used both hands to repeat the same patterns, this time going a bit faster. When he got to my ass cheeks he didn't stop. Using both hands he pushed my cheeks together and then spread them apart, massaging the glutes in an alternating rhythm that shifted from soft to rough over and over again. His hands dipped down below my cheeks and I gasped as he traced a line with one hand along my taint to my ball sack, his finger flicking a bit when he touched my balls.
I arched up to give him better access. He took the hint and reached forward, grabbing my cock and pulling it back between my legs. He stroked it a few times and then resumed working on my glutes. I put my stomach back down on the bed, my cock now pointing straight down to my toes, pulsing with every beat of my heart.
He moved up and used both hands to massage my back. He rubbed and tugged on my lats and other back muscles, again alternating his touch from soft to hard and doing some kind of spidery thing with his fingers that felt like he was flexing a softball.
He paused and turned me over. I was now looking up at him. I reached over with my left hand and tugged at his white BVD's. He took the hint and whipped them off so quickly I was surprised there wasn't a mini sonic boom in the room. He stood there allowing me to admire him.
I took it all in. He was gorgeous. He had an amazing body with fully defined pecs and abs that were naturally smooth. His nipples were light brown and about the size of half dollars. He had a cute belly button--an inny--and below the belly button a light tuft of hair marched south to a very thick and brown bush of pubic hair, which was in high contrast to the white skin below it. A pronounced artery or vein ran from inside his left hip down towards his groin. I don't know why, but I found that very sexy.
But it was his cock that stole the show. I didn't measure it (and never did any of the times we were together after) but I'm guessing it was around 7 to 8 inches long and it seemed to be as thick as a Coke can. He was cut with a round head. His shaft was whitish-pink except for a brownish ring that gave testimony to the handiwork of the doctor who many years before had trimmed this monster up.
"You can touch it if you want," he whispered.
"My God," I said, "is that the way a cock is supposed to look?" At that moment I felt completely inadequate.
"No," he chuckled softly, "most cocks are not nearly as long or as thick, in my experience." "In fact," he said, "in my experience your cock may be a bit bigger than average."
I sat, transfixed. I had turned on my side and his cock was now inches from my face.
"Take your time," he said, "enjoy yourself."
I reached out and touched his cock. It was warm to the touch and, of course, it was paradoxically at once hard as steel and soft as velvet. I stroked it a few times. A dewdrop of pre-cum oozed out of the perfectly formed slit. I watched as it slid down like a drop of water and plummeted to the bed, just as another drop formed at the spout.
His balls were about the size of small eggs and hung at the back of his cock, perfectly symmetrical. I stopped stroking and reached back to touch his balls. I traced lines and rings around the sack, stopping occasionally to grab his balls and roll them around. He was sighing and moving his hips in time with me. I brought my other arm around and started to stroke his cock in earnest while I continued to play with his balls.
His balls were covered with a light tracing of hair. Not many guys shaved themselves back then. I didn't even know it was a thing. But I loved the feel of his hair covered skin under my fingers.
I reached up and while still stroking that beautiful cock I ran my fingers through his pubes. They were so soft. I traced designs through his bush, back down to his balls and up and down his left thigh--all the time continuing to stroke his enormous cock which was still just inches away from my face.
I pulled him toward me. When he got close enough, I flicked my tongue out and licked up a bubble of precum just before it was about to drop to the bed. I wouldn't be wasting anymore of that. I had tasted my own precum before and didn't really get a taste sensation when I had. His was different. It was a not as clear as mine and there was a bit of sweetness in his precum that I could not really define or describe.
But the minute I tasted it I was hooked. My tongue started to lick the whole head of his cock, swirling and dancing around the top, bottom and head, over and over again, while my hands played with his pubes and his balls.
He moaned and pressed in a little further, his cock entering my mouth a little faster than I had anticipated. His cock pushed back to my uvula and I gagged, pulling off of him and choking a bit. I looked up at him and whispered an "I'm sorry." He smiled and noted that we needed to slow it down a bit. "There's no way," he said, "that you're going to take my whole cock down your throat the first time trying."
I didn't feel challenged. Rather, I felt that he was truly taking his time with me. He started to whisper to me instructions, telling me to use my lips more and suck a little bit, while he urged me to move my head back and forth on his cock, never urging me to take more of him in my mouth than I could handle.
Meanwhile his hands found mine and he moved my right hand to his balls. Play with them and don't be afraid you'll hurt me. "I'll let you know if you're hurting me," he said, "so pull on them, roll them, mash them, tickle them--do whatever you've fantasized about." All the while he was moving his hand on top of mine showing me what he meant by each instruction.
Satisfied that I was taking his instruction, he then grabbed my other hand and moved it between his legs to his ass. He actually took my little finger and used it to poke at his hole. I was a fast learner and very quickly I was probing his hole with my fingers and my hand. I stopped for a minute and drew my hand to my lips, licking my middle finger and coating it with generous amount of spit. He groaned loudly as my finger moved back to his hole and made its entry. Slowly at first but then more urgently, burying my middle finger well up to the knuckle.
"Move it around a little," he whispered," there's a gland in there that you want to try to hit with your finger." I did as he asked but I couldn't tell what it was I was supposed to be hitting--so I swirled my finger all around, hoping to hit what he wanted me to hit.
I must have been doing ok because he just kept moaning and groaning.
And all the time I continued to explore his magnificent cock with my mouth and my tongue. I was a man unhinged. I had dreamed of sucking a cock for so long and now I was finally doing it. I pulled off and licked it like a lollipop from the base up to the tip and back again. I licked it, blew on it, rubbed it with my lips over and over again.
I took it in my hand and held it up against my cheek, resting his balls near my mouth. "OOH, yah," he moaned, "suck on my balls. Eat my balls." I took one into my mouth and sucked on it and licked it. I bit it lightly and he pushed harder into my mouth. My hand continued to stroke his cock while I sucked and licked each one of his balls, finally taking them both into my mouth and biting down lightly. When he didn't complain, I increased the pressure. He pushed his balls further into my mouth and I continue to lightly bite and lick them. I was having a feast.
I let each ball fall from my mouth and brought his cock once more to my mouth. I opened my lips and fed this big, round, hard, soft bullet of flesh into my mouth. I licked, sucked, nibbled and brought him in and out and out and in and in and out over and over again. I never took him too deep but concentrated my attention on his cock head, the underside of this cock head and took about 3-4" of his cock into my mouth.
After about 5 minutes of this he moaned and grabbed my ears. "I'm going to cum," he said, "is that all right?" Not stopping, I simply nodded my head. With his hands on my ears guiding the tempo, I continue to suck his cock, doing everything with my tongue, lips, mouth and teeth that I could think of in a way that I would want it done to me. As I was pulling his cock back out, I felt his balls tense and suddenly my whole mouth was filled with a burst of cum and then another and another and another volley flooded my mouth and started to move down my throat. I was stunned and stopped all movement. I let him continue to jiz into my mouth, enjoying every last drop of his sweet-salty goo before swallowing it all down.
His legs buckled and he fell beside me on the bed sideways so that his face was down by my cock and his cock remained in my mouth.
All was quiet except for the faint sounds of Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" coming from the speakers in the living room and the low hum of the air conditioner which was trying to keep up with the significantly increased heat in the room.
I kept him in my mouth as he slowly deflated. At some point his cock slipped from my lips and plopped out beside my face. I was content to have it sit there where I could study it now as it retreated to its flaccid state. I marveled at the fact that even though it was now soft it was still bigger than mine.
As I lay there, I relived every second of my first experience as a cocksucker.
And the night was still early.