Brian's visit - version 2.0.0 (June-August 2009) (NC-reluctant, auth, cum denial, humil, feet, extensive drug use, unsafe-sex)
stories@nc.rr.com
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of FICTION - any similarity to actual people or events is entirely coincidental. It contains adult subject matter and should not be read by any minor, person who would find such material offensive, or if it is illegal in your area. If you meet these conditions, please delete this file from your computer. This work is not to be reproduced in any manner without prior approval from the author.
SPOILER ALERT: If you read the original version of this story, you might be interested in the changes I've made. If you'd like to read them, scroll to the end. If you'd rather be surprised, wait `til you're finished.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Brian's Visit" was my first story on Nifty, originally posted seven years ago. Though this version keeps the same plot and characters, I've made widespread corrections to grammar and text to make reading easier, such as fixing my bad habit of putting dialogue and narration in the same paragraph and my apparent inability to use contractions. Additionally, Brian's character has been fleshed out a bit and the last chapter contains new information revealing his motivation for the events chronicled in this story. If you were a fan of the original, don't worry, nothing fundamental to the design changed, but this one should be easier on the eyes.
Thanks for all your support!
CHAPTER TWO -- THE PIZZA GUY
When I finally realized the noise I heard was the doorbell, I froze in utter panic. Looking up at Brian, I noticed him staring down at me with the same contemptuous smirk I'd grown accustomed to over the past few hours. His still mostly-hard cock jutted from his dark blonde pubes with a large curd of his thick, white semen hanging loosely from the tip, wagging as he moved, his foreskin already beginning to reclaim his cockhead.
The doorbell rang again.
"Think I should get that, faggot?" he asked with a wild, untamed glint in his eyes.
"Please Brian, don't answer the door," I begged. "I'll do anything you want but please don't let that guy in..."
Brian was instantly on the floor, kneeling beside me, a frightening grin pasted across his face.
"Are you scared?"
"Yes!" I answered emphatically.
"Good, you should be scared," he advised. "I have no idea how this guy will react when I let him in, when he sees you like this. But since you enjoy throwing around the word `faggot' so goddamn much, I think you need to learn what it feels like to be on the other end of that insult. I'll keep you safe, you know, make sure he doesn't hurt you, but you'd better play along..."
"Play along with what?" I asked frantically, feeling as if my entire life was coming unraveled.
Unfortunately, there was no further explanation. Brian simply chuckled as he stood and walked toward the door, not even bothering to cover up, his swiftly deflating erection swaying from his crotch as he moved.
After unlocking the deadbolt, he unashamedly swung the door open. I began to tremble as I listened to our new guest's reaction.
"What the fuck! Sorry dude, I must be interrupting something."
The voice was clearly Tim's. I could recognize it even through the fog of the pot, beer, ecstasy, and sex. Quickly evaluating my options, I found none.
"It's OK, man," Brian said. "Come on in. We were just finishing up, and we got plenty of weed left..."
I heard Tim enter my house and the door shut behind him. I wanted to crawl inside a hole and pull a mountain down to cover me. Lowering my gaze, trying to avoid looking Tim in the face, I was mortified to find that my cock was still hard. Just then, a nasty-looking drop of Brian's cum slipped off my chin and struck the head of my throbbing dick, causing it to throb and swing obscenely.
"Goddamn! What the fuck were you guys doing in here?" asked Tim when he stepped into the living room and saw me trussed up on the floor by the couch. "This looks like some sick kinda bondage shit!"
"It's alright, man," answered Brian. "I just found out that my old college buddy has a few interests I never knew about when we used to live together. He's a fucking wild man, into all kinds of weird, fucked up shit. You want some green?"
"Fuck yeah, that's why I came by, remember?"
Brian retrieved the bong and his bag of weed while Tim walked toward the couch. He was still eyeing me strangely when he hesitantly sat on the sofa in front of me. His body language indicated that he didn't quite know what to make of this situation, like he wasn't sure it was a good idea to stay. Part of me hoped he'd be unable to accept what he was seeing and just leave.
Instead, he started asking questions...
"So, what kinda things is he into?"
"I'm not into these things! Brian made me do them..." I corrected, knowing I'd made a mistake the second the words left my mouth.
"I don't think he was talking to you, faggot!" Brian barked loudly.
His large hand smacked the back of my head as he passed the bong and the weed to Tim. Our guest began to pack a fresh bowl as Brian continued...
"Well, Ricky here knew I needed a place to crash for a while and invited me to stay with him. Earlier tonight, we were hanging out on the deck and he talked me into getting naked. You know, because this place is so isolated and shit. Anyway, I was getting really relaxed, enjoying my buzz, when I threw a weed boner and noticed him drooling all over it. Since I'm gonna be living here for a while, I had to find out what was up with that, so I put him through a few tests. It didn't take long to find out he's one grade-A pussyboy. Damn dude, you should've seen him! He licked my feet and his dick started dripping like crazy! Before I knew it, the bitch was rooting around in my sweaty balls man, sniffing `em like some kinda pig. I tried to pull him off, but he just went back to my feet. And then, get this man, while my toes were in his mouth, he told me he was gonna cum..."
As Brian continued this heavily misrepresented story of what had actually occurred tonight, he nonchalantly moved to sit on the couch beside Tim.
"Well, the thought of a guy cumming with my foot in his mouth was just gross, so I knocked him off and walked to the edge of the deck to piss. The fucking faggot followed me, dude, getting down on his knees and asking me to piss on him..."
"Whoa, did you do it?" Tim asked quietly, sounding amazed that any guy would behave like that.
"I couldn't help it," Brian lied convincingly. "I really needed to piss and he wouldn't get outta the way..."
"What happened then?"
"Like I said, he's doing me a favor by letting me live here, so when he asked if he could suck me, I let him. Then, just when the goddamn prick tease got me all worked up, he suddenly got cold feet. That was the last straw, man. I tied him up and made him finish what he started. The bitch has a hot throat though, took the whole damn thing to the bush. He begged to taste my jizz; it was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. I'd just finished hosing him down when you rang the bell. I'm sorry, Tim. I know this wasn't what you were counting on tonight, but I wasn't expecting it either..."
Despite my current situation, I had to protest. That description of events was nowhere close to accurate.
"That's not the way it happened and you know it, Brian!"
His big foot rose off the floor, the sole striking me gently across the face. It wasn't intended to hurt, just to remind me of my place. Tim couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed.
"Shit!!! I've never seen anything like that! He lets you slap him with your feet?"
"Yeah, bitch gets off on it!" he answered. Then, while staring sinfully in my direction, he added, "...and to prove what I said is true, I've got pictures of everything."
When Brian stood to retrieve his camera, I knew Tim was going to believe him over me. When he returned to the couch, he handed the device to our guest, who'd finished packing the pipe and had already taken a few hits. Brian helped him navigate to the photo library and got him started browsing through the images.
"FUCK!" he yelled. "I've never seen shit like this before, not even in videos!"
After examining the digital pictures of me licking Brian's feet, taking his piss and hot cum, Tim looked down, scrutinizing my face, before speaking to my buddy.
"Brian dude, you shoot a nice load. You got him good; I can still see it on his face. Why do you think the fucker would lie to me?"
"He's probably just embarrassed. Look at his cock. You can tell he was getting off on it when you got here. I mean, his little prick is still hard."
Humiliated beyond belief, I realized Brian's account of what happened tonight fit the photo evidence completely, even though it was almost totally false.
"Actually," Brian continued. "I think maybe he gets off over the idea that he's being forced to do it. He complains a lot, but his cock never gets soft and he keeps saying he's gonna cum, so it's obvious he likes it. You should've seen his cock twitch when I tied him up..."
Tim handed the bong to Brian while staring at me for a few more moments. I noticed a bulge beginning to grow in his jeans, snaking its way down his leg. He inched his foot closer, brushing against my balls with his canvas sneaker. My cock lurched aggressively, flinging a nasty bead of precum onto his shoe.
"See, I told you man," Brian said. "He's fucking into it..."
"I've never seen anything like this," added Tim. "I mean, if I was tied up naked with one guy's cum running down my chin and another guy's foot resting on my balls, I sure as hell wouldn't be hard."
"That's what I'm saying, dude," answered Brian as he took another hit and passed the pipe to Tim. "It's fucking warped, but I'm not the kinda guy to turn down a blowjob. It's been a while for me; the bitches are so uptight about it and shit. If you're lucky enough to talk one into it, they just gag and beg you to stop. This guy had the whole goddamn thing down his throat and kept a hardon the whole time. You'd better be careful though; he's got a thing for feet. If you keep touching his nuts with your shoe, you might get `em covered in fag spunk. Hey, you want a beer?"
"That'd be awesome! This is some wicked weed you got..."
Brian stood, walked to kitchen, and returned with several bottles, placing the spares on the floor by the couch after handing one to Tim and opening one for himself.
"Go ahead and get comfortable, dude," suggested Brian. "Stay awhile. Ricky doesn't mind..."
"Sounds like a good idea; like I said, this weed is killer! I'm feeling a little fucked up..."
Tim relaxed into my comfortable sofa, his eyes beginning to look a bit distant, already a bit red and slightly puffy. But he didn't seem to take Brian's hint.
"Why don't you let him take your shoes off?" Brian added, trying to spur this guy into action. "You can stay as long as you want. Hell, stay the night if you want."
"Oh, I don't know man..." Tim said cautiously. "I mean, hearing about all this shit is one thing, letting him do it with me is another."
"I bet he wants to, don't you Ricky? Tim, you don't know this, but he was staring at your feet when you came by to deliver our pizza."
"No fucking way!"
"Hell yeah, his eyes were all over `em! Bitch couldn't stop looking. He practically started to drool..."
Brian paused, looked down at me, and grinned playfully. At the exact same moment, as if he was deliberately trying to confound me, he discreetly winked in my direction, making certain Tim didn't see. At this point, I had absolutely no idea what was happening. Was this some kind of game or was his antagonism a genuine reflection of how he felt about me?
He finally finished his thought...
"If you ask him, he'll probably even beg to get at your feet. His cock is still throbbing; actually, it looks even harder since we've been talking about those nasty sneakers of yours. Go ahead, ask him..."
By now, Tim had several hits from the bong clouding his brain. His cock was obviously hard within the confines of his jeans. Looking up at him, I felt a wave of sexual heat roll over me as he began his question...
"Is that right, little boy?" he asked, his voice simply dripping with condescension. "Is that what you want? You wanna take my sneakers off for me? You wanna make my feet feel good after I've been on `em all day?"
Unsure as to how to respond, I quickly glanced at Brian.
"Don't look at me, bitch," he snapped. "I'm not the one talking to you. Actually, that's pretty rude. Just answer his question."
Knowing I was beaten, I turned my head toward Tim and answered honestly.
"Yeah, I wanna do it..."
"You wanna do what?" he teased while subtly trying to adjust the cock straining against his jeans.
"I wanna take your sneakers off..."
"And then?" he prompted. "What else do you want?"
"I wanna make your feet feel good."
"How are you gonna do that, you sorry sack of shit?"
Brian chuckled to himself now that it was clear Tim's earlier hesitation was fading. Our guest was getting into it, unquestionably pleased by the power trip he was feeling.
What I said next didn't help to improve my situation...
"I'll do anything," I admitted, adding meekly, "...anything you want."
There, I'd said it. By now, I couldn't separate truthful answers from the ones resulting from coercion. Though I did want to please this young man, I was also being forced. I was confused, frightened, and high, all at the same time. What did I have to lose?
Tim and Brian started laughing riotously, a kind of fucked up, frat-house laughter that sent a chill up my spine.
"SHIT! That is SOOOO fucked up!" Tim yelled. "I've never met anybody willing to do ANYTHING to taste a guy's foot."
Brian noticed my cock react when the words "taste" and "foot" were used in the same sentence. He decided to further humiliate me by pointing it out.
"Fuck! Did you just see his prick jump when you talked about tasting a guy's foot? For a second, I thought he was gonna spooge. He didn't get that hot when he was working on mine!"
"Well, you said he was into smells. This is embarrassing to admit, but I'll just be honest here; my feet reek, they always have. I usually don't take my shoes off in front of people. It'll be even worse today since these sneakers are like five years old. And I was running late for work today, so I just put on a pair of socks I grabbed off the floor. Shit, I didn't even have time to shower. He may like it, but Brian, they might make you sick..."
I was powerless to stop my dick from bobbing up and down, slinging drops of prejizz, as I listened to Tim's story. For a brief moment, I feared I might actually cum. This disgraceful condition was good for another laugh from my tormentors.
"I think you should let him," Brian encouraged.
"If you're sure the smell won't bother you..."
"I can handle it," Brian answered. "Besides, I wanna see how he reacts. Go on and take `em off, Ricky. Knock yourself out..."
"They may knock us all out," Tim laughed as he sank into the cushions and stretched his legs forward, placing both feet in front of me.
"How am I supposed to take `em off with my hands tied?" I asked.
"You're a smart guy," said Brian. "You'll figure something out..."
There was only one choice really, to use my teeth. Scooting back slightly and slowly lowering my upper body to the floor, I found keeping my balance was a challenge given I was still bound. Somehow, I managed to get my head low enough without yanking my nuts off. Once within reach, I caught their scent. Tim had not exaggerated. The sweatiest, muskiest odor I'd ever smelled was rising from his sneakers, and they weren't even off yet! I grabbed a shoelace with my teeth and pulled gradually, not wanting the lace to knot. Luckily, it cooperated and I tried to loosen the laces enough for him to extract his foot. Try as I might, however, I just couldn't get them slack enough.
Finally, I decided to grab the canvas in my teeth and pull sideways to open up the shoe. The smell was over-powering, like being smacked in the face. I could literally feel the heat of his foot rising from the inner confines of the dark, sweaty shoe, filling my nostrils with the dank aroma. As I worked, Tim and Brian just relaxed, continuing to smoke, drink, and talk, virtually oblivious to my struggle. After considering how to get his foot out, I could come up with only one option, to put the toe of the filthy sneaker in my mouth, hold on tight with my teeth, and pull. With a bit of luck, maybe I'd gotten it loose enough to slip off. Fortunately, Tim assisted me by sliding his foot out, leaving me with a guy's nasty canvas shoe hanging out of my mouth by the dirty, rubber toe.
Brian took another picture and praised my ingenuity.
"Congratulations! You actually did it! Oh, and by the way, check out your dick, boy..."
Glancing down, I saw my distended, moist cock pulsing in time with my heart, leaking goo on the carpet between my legs, giving away the gratification that some dark, hidden part of me was feeling.
"Dude," Brian added to Tim while raising his eyebrows and making an odd face. "You weren't kidding about the smell."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that. You want me to put my shoe back on?"
"Don't worry about it. Like I said, I can take it. And I enjoy watching how it affects him. I don't understand why that gets him so hot, but I'm glad I discovered it. I love a good footrub every so often and now I know where to get one. It'll be nice to have my own foot slave to work em over, especially if he's gonna beg for cock afterwards. Shit, I won't even need to keep em clean! Maybe I could even try to get mine as stinky as yours..."
There was a burst of raucous laughter at Brian's last sentence and my face flushed bright red from the embarrassment I felt.
"OK, dude," Tim barked at me. "...one down. Spit out that shoe and take the other one off..."
As I moved down to repeat the procedure with his other shoe, Tim lifted the damp, sock-covered foot I'd already freed to my nose and started wiggling his toes around my face. I moaned audibly, unable to control my groin's reaction as the acrid scent of his huge, dirty feet flooded my brain.
"Shit! I've heard that sound before!" yelled Brian.
He quickly jumped from the sofa and was behind me in a flash, grabbing my balls and pulling down hard enough to distract me. Though it wasn't painful, it was far from comfortable.
"Brian, please stop..."
Tim stuck his foul, sock-covered toes in my mouth to silence my whining.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" Brian snapped. "You can't nut yet, remember? From the noises you were making, I knew you were about to blast. And from the looks of things, I barely got to you in time..."
He was right, of course. My cock looked like a wild creature with a mind of its own, swollen larger than I'd ever seen it, dripping constantly from the bright red head, with veins I never knew existed prominently bulging from the untouched shaft.
"Let me worry about this oversexed dick of yours," Brian added. "You need to focus on getting Tim's other shoe off..."
Tim removed his toes from my mouth as Brian continued manipulating my nuts. It wasn't long before I was staring at two of the nastiest, off-white athletic socks I'd ever seen. Clearly damp from his sweat, the smell was like an entire locker room had been concentrated into the cloth covering his feet. He wiggled his toes and smiled wickedly, releasing even more of the aroma into the air. I took a deep, noisy, far too obvious breath in spite of the laughter it initiated from Brian and Tim.
By this time, Tim had removed his shirt and was relaxing on the couch with his arms extended along the back. Though he was a thin guy, his abdominals were awesome, each ridge of muscle distinct. A thick bush of damp, sweaty, jet-black hair grew from under each pit and I felt an impulsive desire to sniff there as well, the thought causing my cock to swell painfully. Tim glared down at me, the glazed look on his face, as well as his bloodshot eyes, indicating that he was now fully stoned, even before he spoke...
"Awesome little whore you got here, Brian. You guys gonna have to order pizza more often. I'm surprised he was able to get both shoes off so fast. I think he deserves a reward for all that hard work. I mean, it's obvious he wants my feet. How long do you think I should let him indulge himself?"
Brian was quiet for a few seconds, concocting my next humiliation...
"Fifteen minutes should be about right. Here's the deal, Ricky. You get to work Tim's feet for fifteen minutes. Do anything you want with them for that length of time, or until you feel like you're gonna nut. If you cum, I'll email the pictures. And I'm not gonna help you control it this time, so if you get too close, it'll be up to you to stop before you spooge. But once you quit, you can't go back. This'll be your last chance to have some foot fun, at least for now. Here, I'll even untie your hands so you can show Tim how good you are..."
He untied my wrists but left my ankles bound to my nuts with the smaller rope. Though I could move my arms and hands again, I still couldn't stand up without ripping my nuts off. I definitely wasn't going anywhere, nor would I dare use my hands to touch my cock. That would send me over the edge, and if Brian had been serious about releasing the pictures, my life would be ruined.
Reaching forward, I took one of Tim's feet in my hands and reveled in the dampness soaking his grimy socks. Lifting it warily to my face, I swallowed my remaining, shredded dignity, and pressed it against my nostrils. After taking a deep breath, my head began to spin as the funky aroma filled my sinuses. Strong contractions in the area between my cock and balls forced a new batch of precum onto the floor. Still, I knew I was in control, at least for the moment.
Tim removed all doubt as to whether he was getting off on my degrading behavior when he spoke...
"That's it whore, get into my fucking nasty feet. Smell `em good, you fag. Yeah, I can see your cock dancing in the air each time you sniff. Shit, just admit it to yourself and roll with it..."
They both became more aggressive in their use of vulgar language and were constantly laughing at my shameful display. Tim was unquestionably hard inside his jeans but had given up trying to hide that fact by now. Even Brian's cock was starting to chub up again.
My next words surprised even me...
"Uhmm, Tim...Can I take your socks off?"
Brian grinned and winked at me again; these confusing oscillations between aggression and playfulness were throwing my mind for loop after loop. Before he said anything loud enough for Tim to hear, he mouthed the words "good boy".
Tim was so focused on me that he didn't even notice our silent communication.
"Why the fuck do you wanna take his socks off?" Brian asked out loud.
Looking up at Tim, I noticed a damp spot forming on his jeans, near the firm head of his cock. When he openly stroked the bulge, the dark, wet stain expanded, causing me to come unhinged, utterly losing control of my own words. So great was my need that I no longer cared how I sounded...
"I wanna see your feet, Tim. Please, can I? I wanna see your toes and put `em in my mouth..."
My stoned houseguest slapped my face with one of his sock-covered feet before giving me permission to proceed. Wasting no time, I immediately stripped his right foot of the pungent sock, lifting the material to my nose and taking a whiff prior to tossing it aside. His feet were amazing, large and strong. They were pale with tuffs of dark, dramatically contrasting hair sprouting from the tops and toes. To me, each toe seemed like a work of art, elegant and inspired. I tried to write off my reaction to the ecstasy, knowing I shouldn't be so into them, but could no longer hide my growing fetish. I gently stroked his strong, high arch before lifting the sole to my face to sniff him bare. My cock's wild gyrations grew more urgent, but I felt certain I could control it a bit longer. I slipped my tongue between his big toe and its neighbor, ferreting out his sweat. Sucking each toe in turn, I cleaned between them, willing degrading myself all the while.
"Why don't you do the other one?" Tim suggested.
I reluctantly released one massive foot only to strip and worship the other. Peeling off his damp sock, I rubbed it over my face before engaging in an enthusiastic toe-lick. How long had I been doing this? I'd long ago lost track of time. Had it been three minutes, seven, or maybe ten? Tim lifted his right foot and held both to my face, the sweaty soles pressing against my nose, and ordered me to breathe deeply. Just prior to obeying this command, I knew that unless I stopped immediately, I was gonna cum. I slowly put both feet on the floor and tried to hang on to my load.
"What's the matter, faggot?" he asked.
"Uhmm, uh, I have to stop now..."
I felt hot and flushed, on the verge of passing out.
"Why?"
"Because if I don't, I'm gonna cum..."
"Put your hands on your head," Brian commanded.
This new position caused my cock to protrude prominently from my body. The guys stood to watch the show, the wicked horny boy kneeling on the floor, hands behind his head, ankles tied together, attached to his overfilled nuts, trying with all his might not to cum. The looming orgasm had set my hips to thrusting, the reflexive movement causing my prick to flail about and sling slippery fluid everywhere. Clenching my teeth, I fought to prevent orgasm by sheer force of will, and was making headway. Yes, the worst was indisputably over and I'd limited the damage to just a single, strong contraction, losing only a single stream of slime from my swollen knob. It wasn't cum and we all knew it, but I'd never seen precum in amounts anywhere near that large. The slippery fluid flowed down my trembling shaft, over my tight balls, then onto the carpet.
After taking a deep breath to steady myself, I looked up at my captors.
Brian started clapping very slowly, almost dramatically, grinning and nodding his head the whole time.
"Well done, Ricky. I really thought you were gonna lose it, but I gotta give you credit, you held on. But it's gotta suck that you won't get any more feet right now. Don't worry though; I'm sure we can find other things you'll enjoy just as much..."
Tim moved to stand directly in front of me, teasing his cock through the material of his jeans.
"I bet he'd like this, huh Brian?"
"Hell yeah, the bitch loves cock. His dick was rock hard the whole time he was blowing me."
"Is that right, fagboy?" Tim taunted. "You wanna to see my cock? I mean, it's awfully close to your face right now and your dick is still spitting out precum. What do you say? You want it?"
I was in my own little world. Between the drugs, my confusion over what Brian was actually doing, the throbbing hardon between my legs, and the hypnotic effect of Tim's words, I couldn't make any sense of what was going on. I failed to respond quickly enough and felt a sting across my face. I hadn't even seen it coming.
"I already said I'd do anything you wanted!" I foolishly shouted.
Instantly, I felt another slap, still not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let me know that I was not in charge here.
"Don't take that attitude with me, faggot!" Tim yelled. "I already know you'll do it if I force you. What I asked was if you wanted to do it. Now answer me!"
He was becoming even more aggressive than Brian, who had moved back to the couch and was snapping photographs with the camera. I was beginning to get scared again. How far did Brian intend to let this charade go?
I did want it, but then again I didn't. Protest was out of the question; I was clear-headed enough to know that denial would bring more abuse. I took the easy way out and degraded myself further, saying what I knew he wanted to hear.
"Yes, I want it," I whispered.
"You want what, queerboy!"
A nasty wad of spit landed on my lips. I passively let it hang there while Brian caught a picture.
"I wanna see your cock. I wanna put it in my mouth."
"You wanna eat my jizz?"
"Yes, I want that too."
"You gonna swallow it all?"
Humiliated, I felt my cock begin to spasm once again.
"Yes, I'll swallow every drop," I promised, now resigned to this indignity and just wanting to get it over with.
Tim sighed heavily, apparently relieved that I'd stopped fighting him. When he spoke again, his tone was slightly less hostile.
"Now there's a good faggot! That wasn't so hard, was it? Go on and take out my cock. Show me how much you love it..."
Reaching upward, I unbuttoned his jeans then slowly lowered his zipper, detecting immediately that he wasn't wearing underwear, the smell of his hot crotch hitting me like a ton of bricks. My mouth fell open when I exposed the thick root of his cock, the bulk of which still snaked down his right pants leg. I lowered his jeans in order to free it, causing the colossal piece to smack me in the cheek when it escaped, already fully hard and wet. Though not as thick as Brian's prick, Tim's was longer, at least by an inch. He was also uncut; his hood still covered the head with ample skin to spare, even though he was utterly hard. The tip of his foreskin was thoroughly moist and I felt my own cock drip more fluid, soaking into my carpet with the rest of what I'd spilled. I stared in spite of myself, mesmerized, unable to break the lock my eyes had established with it.
"He likes it, man," commented Brian, who was casually refilling the bong as he relaxed nude on my couch. "His dick's going nuts..."
"Shit, I can see that," answered Tim. "And look at the way he's staring at it. Nobody's ever looked at my shit with that expression on their face. It's kinda cool. I'm starting to see why you got into all this..."
"I know, dude," Brian added. "It's like he's worshipping it. Kinda gives you an ego boost, don't it?"
"Hell yeah it does!"
I was so captivated by the incredible cock pointing at my face that I only half heard them talking. Tim had to nudge me with his foot, nearly losing his balance in the process, for me to respond to his next instruction...
"Take my jeans all the way off. I wanna be free for this..."
As I lowered his jeans, he stepped out of them, making sure to put each foot in my face as it slipped free. Looking up, the sight of Tim's completely naked, fucking marvelous body made my cock pound harder than it had all night. I was practically drooling over this hot, thin guy who'd only hours before delivered a pizza to my house.
"Hey fagboy, you ordered extra cheese on your pizza. Do you like extra cheese on cock?"
Since my own penis is circumcised, I didn't completely understand what he was talking about, especially with the use of slang. But Brian apparently did and began to laugh chaotically...
"No fucking way, man!"
"Dude, I told you I didn't get to shower this morning and my skin is so long it traps everything inside. I was drunk when I beat off last night and fell asleep right after I nutted, so I'm sure it's pretty nasty under there."
"Shit, I gotta get this with the camera," Brian said. "Unless you don't want me taking pictures of it..."
"Go ahead, man. I'm high enough not to be bashful. I still can't believe we're doing this, but it's kinda fun..."
Brian stood with the camera, approaching us. He tilted my head back and forced my mouth open with his fingers.
"OK, Tim. Put your cock over his mouth, but don't stick it in just yet. Yeah, that's it, right there. Alright, now skin it back..."
From this position, I couldn't see his cockhead, but with the tip less than an inch from my nose, I could sure as hell smell it. It was unlike the musky smell of his feet, but no less powerful. The camera's bright flash blinded me for second.
"Fuck, that's nasty!" Brian yelled. "Mine never gets that dirty."
"I told you, dude. Wanna let him clean it up?"
Upon hearing this question, I tried to scuttle away, but didn't get very far with my ankles still tied to my nuts. I did manage; however, to catch a quick look at Tim's foul, smelly, cheese-covered cockhead. I knew guys with foreskins had to work to keep them clean, but I never knew they could get that filthy.
"Not so fast, faggot," said Tim as he easily caught my head and lowered the tip of his cock into my mouth. "Lick it clean!"
I nearly gagged when my tongue made contact with the slimy curds covering the head of his cock, but willed the sickening feeling away and tried my best to clean it. When his dick began to throb in my mouth, my inhibitions immediately slipped away. Repositioning my head, I slid at least half his cock into my mouth.
"Fuck yeah!" he yelled. "Good weed and good head all in the same night!"
"Don't rush it, man," advised Brian. "Let him work on it a while. He fucking loves it. Come over here and sit back down. You can do a couple more hits while he gets you off. Having an orgasm while you're stoned off your ass is incredible..."
Tim unceremoniously extracted his cock and walked to the sofa, sat beside Brian, and waited for me. I waddled closer on my knees, trying not to strain my balls, the bizarre movements drawing more laughter. Tim smacked me in the face a few times with his skinned dick, leaving streaks of precum on my lips, before shoving me down, his freshly cleaned cockhead sliding into my throat. Before I knew it, my nose was buried in his pubes. While holding me down, he pumped his cock upward a few times before letting me gasp for air.
"Shit! Nobody's ever gone down on me like that. Did you see that? Brian, he took it all the way to the pubes!"
"I told you he was good, a natural born cocksucker if you ask me. Hey dicklicker, you got a video camera around here?"
Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. Brian already had a camera full of pictures. Now he wanted to videotape me! Still, since I wasn't entirely sure what he was up to tonight, I couldn't take the risk of pissing him off.
"Yeah, it's in the bedroom..."
Brian sprinted down the hall and returned with my camera. He picked up the bong and handed it to Tim, who took another long drag, then began to fiddle with the video camera, trying to figure out how to get it started. Eventually, the red light came on and I knew we were live.
"You don't have to force him," he said casually. "He'll keep working your dick even if you take your hands away."
"Is that right, faggot? You wanna get me off and swallow a mouth full of jizz? Go ahead, dude. Take your time. Make me feel good..."
I did want to make him feel good. The smells coming off of his crotch were driving me crazy and I worked his cock like a slut in spite of the video camera. I knew I looked like a ten-dollar whore, but I didn't care. All I wanted was his cum and I wanted it bad.
But Tim was determined to make me work for it. Several times during the blowjob, he pulled me off his cock completely while Brian filmed me begging to put it back in my mouth. I'm not sure if it was the drugs, but it felt like I'd been on my knees for hours before he tensed and prepared to shoot.
"Shit, goddamnit! Yeah, work that spunk outta my balls. Brian, you'd better get the camera ready. I'm getting ready to hose this fucker down good!"
Brian moved quickly, but was barely in place when Tim pulled his cock from my lips, the wet, glistening head only inches from my face, pulsing wickedly as he gave it one last stroke to finish the job. I was staring at the slit when it erupted, shooting hot semen directly toward my face. Brian towered above us, aiming the camera straight down, capturing each discharge that basted my face with thick, spermy jizz. The first shot hit me precisely between the eyes with unbelievable force. I groaned when the second coated my right cheek and ran down my chin.
"Fuck!" screamed Brian. "He's about to lose it!"
He stepped on the rope still connecting my nuts to my ankles, pulling them down sharply. Damn! He was gonna keep me from cumming again! As I fought the discomfort in my balls, Tim unloaded again, a forceful shot that caught me in the eye. With spooge burning my eye and a rope yanking my nuts, I opened my mouth to complain. Tim took advantage by unloading the next shot directly inside.
"Motherfuck, this is gonna be a hot tape!" yelled Brian as he stood above us, filming my humiliation.
Tim shoved his still-spurting cock into my mouth, unloading his remaining juice down my throat, holding me steadfastly until he was fully spent.
"Shit that was awesome!"
Brian lifted his foot from the rope around my nuts just as Tim collapsed onto the couch, pulling my skull by the ears so that I moved with him, my mouth still stuffed with his cock.
"That's right, faggot, nurse my cock like a baby on a tit. Get all that fucking cum outta there..."
He kept my mouth on his cock until it began to shrink. Then, he suddenly pulled my head upward, allowing the rapidly deflating dick to slip free.
"Alright queerboy, where's the bathroom? I gotta piss..."
Tim started to stand when Brian stopped him.
"Dude, that's no reason to get up. Not with him around..."
A totally stoned, depraved smile slowly expanded across Tim's face.
"You sure, man? I ain't ever pissed in anybody's mouth before."
"He took mine. Besides, this is his house. He'll either drink it or get piss all over his couch and living room carpet."
Brian was right. I didn't want to drink piss again, but I wasn't about to let it ruin my couch or soak into the carpet padding. It took him a few minutes to relax enough to start and even then the first few spurts were small, leading me to believe it wouldn't be that bad after all. Just then, the flow really got started. My mouth was filling faster than I could swallow and it began escaping between my lips. But when he finally finished and pulled his long, soft dick from my mouth, I discovered that I hadn't lost that much. In fact, my precum had made a larger mess than Tim's piss.
"Damn, that was fucking wild!" Tim said slowly with a contented sigh, amazed at what he'd just done. "Thanks for the suggestion, Brian!"
"Think nothing of it," Brian answered. "Ricky, you should thank Tim for helping you out tonight."
I knew better than to argue. Swallowing what remained of my dignity, I obeyed...
"Thank you, Tim..."
"Thanks for what, fagboy? And look into the goddamn camera!"
"Thank you for letting me suck your dick. And thank you for letting me lick your feet, and for letting me swallow your jizz..."
Brian and Tim howled in laughter, quickly scanning back through the camera footage to watch it through the LCD view screen. I could hear the recording but could not see it. They then complemented me for doing such a good job. In a really bizarre way, I felt good that I had pleased them.
They returned to the couch and began to pass the bong back and forth, even offering me a hit this time. Brian handed me a beer, but refused to let me get up from the floor. No longer the center of attention, I allowed myself to relax a bit, realizing that in my current state, my cock wouldn't go down until I shot my spunk.
Unfortunately, an orgasm was not in my immediate future.
Thanks for all the encouragement! Keep reading!