The sound of a mosquito buzzing in my ear woke me up totally. The damn things were driving me crazy. I'd tried everything from bug spray to those newfangled emitters that you plugged into the wall outlet for supposedly 12 hours of protection and blissful sleep. Nothing had worked as it was supposed to. I had bought an old fashioned fly swatter, and now turned on the light in my bedroom, and reached for the wire handle on my night stand. I crawled out from under the covers, nude, as I like to sleep, and went on a mosquito hunt.
The light had sent the bastards scurrying for dark corners, but I got two before the rest vanished into thin air. Their blood bright splaters on my clean white walls couldn't be helped. I padded on bare feet to the toilet and releived myself before returnig to the bed. I sat on the edge for a moment, thinking of things I could do to rid myself of the mosquito problem. Nothing came to mind, so I laid back down and pulled the covers up over me. I stared at the ceiling for a minute before turning off the light. I started a slow count, and got to four before the whine of another mosquito assalted my ears.
"Shit," I said, throwing the covers off and sitting on the edge of the bed. I turned the light back on and looked at the clock: 4:02 AM. I had to be at work by seven, and it looked like my sleep cycle was kaput.
I mulled over what I should do, and decided there was nothing for it but to take my usual run a little early. I pulled on my running shorts, and a tshirt, and found my running shoes under the bed.
In the Kitchen, I set the coffee pot up so it would be ready for me when I returned, and slipping my running key around my neck, locked the door behind me and hit the street. Most of the houses on the block were dark and silent, but the house on the corner had a light burning in the kitchen, which I identified, because it was the exact duplicate of my place. I jogged in place warming up, and watched the lighted window. The couple that lived there were relatively new to the neighborhood. I'd heard their names from my immediate neighbor, but hadn't met either the husband or wife yet.
I finished my streching exercizes, and started my run at a steady clip. I liked to do three miles out and three back before work every morning, but I usually didn't start my run before 5:30. It timed out perfectly to give me time for breakfast and a shower before I had to hit the road to work. The development I lived in was adjacent to a large city park, of some age. The trees were mature, and the rolling grassy areas were dotted here and there with thick shrubs that were seldom tended or trimmed. I liked running through the park over the uneven ground, because the gentle rises and declines in the elevation gave me a better workout. The problem being, that now that I was running a full hour earlier than usual, the park was still dark. I had to slow down to avoid running into trees that would suddenly appear out of the darkness.
I'd covered my first two miles, and decided that I had taken longer than usual because of the dark conditions, and decided to turn around and head back. I'd covered about half the distance on the way back, when I ran past a stand of shrubbery on my right. I heard someone groaning in its depths. I jogged to a stop a few feet beyond the stand and listened for the sound. After a moment, I heard a whispered plea of sorts, or at least it sounded like that to me. I took a few steps closer to the stand, and could hear a rythmic sound I couldn't place. The hair on my neck stood erect, and my adrenalin kicked up a notch.
"This is a safe neighborhood," I said to myself, and inched closer to the sounds. I peered into the darkness, but was unable to make anything out at all. I pushed through a wall of leaves, and the sound of my passage caused the sounds inside the stand to stop immediately. I waited motionless for a moment, and finally the rythmic beating sound continued quietly. I listened, inching closer. A streak of light had appeared in the east, and gradually the world had grown a little lighter. I peered into the gloom, and thought I could make out a man standing there doing somethng rythmicly with his right hand.
"Are you OK?" My voice sounded loud even to my ears.
The poor fellow in the stand of shrubs, nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Goddman it! You scared the shit out of me." His voice was strained, and had an edge of frustration in it.
"Sorry, but I thought you might be in trouble or something."
"No. Fuck buddy. You just caught me chockin'my chicken."
"What?" I stepped closer.
"Jerkin' off."
"Oh. . .Oh!" I realized what the rythmic sound had been.
"I come down here every morning and jerk off. My wife and I don't see eye to eye about sex. I'm horny all the time and she doesn't seem to want sex more than once a month any more if then."
"Sorry," I said again. I backed up a little, starting to leave him to his little self abuse party.
"You wouldn't want to help a guy out would you?" His voice was almost a hiss.
"I've never, uh. . .never. . .you know."
"Nothin' to it bud. I'll help you out if you want."
"Gee. . .I don't know. I'm just out here for a run."
"Come on. It won't bite you. You might like it." Something sounded a bit exciting about what he was asking me to do. I stepped a little closer to where he stood. "A little closer. Take it in your hand." I stepped close enough that I could feel his body heat on the skin of my arm. I reached out and he grabbed my hand, and the next thing I knew, I was holding the hard pulsing shaft of another man's cock in my hand. It sent a thrill through me. I shuddered and gripped him tightly.
"Don't squeeze it to death. Just jack it for me. You know how to do that don't you?" I did. It was my only means of relief. I didn't have a girl friend, and wasn't actively trying to get one. I couldn't bring myself to pay for it, and I hated hanging out in singles bars since I didn't smoke, and they were always nearly opaque with tobacco smoke.
I pulled on his shaft a little, and he stepped closer to me. I realized he was entirely nude. I began to stroke him a little harder, and he moaned and whispered that I had a nice touch. I felt him place a hand on my shoulder, and put a little downward pressure on it. I resisted the pressure, but he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Suck it for me man. Let me cum in your mouth." I leaned away from him, but he kept a grip on my shoulder, and continued the downward pressure. I felt dizzy all of a sudden. What had I gotten myself into here.
"I've never even seen another man's hardon much less touched one before, and you want me to suck it for you?"
"Come on. You'll like it. Do me, and I'll do you." He groped my cock and balls through my running shorts.
I was half hard from the thoughts going through my head. His downward pressure continued. My dizzyness increased, and I felt myself weakening in my knees. I gradually began to sink down into the grass and leaves. The smell of his member filled my nostrils, and I took a deep breath of it. I could smell old urine and sweat from his running. I leaned in to his body and took another deep drag of his smell. My cock was now fully charged with blood. What was I doing?
"Open your mouth. I'm going to fuck your face." My head broke into a sweat, and I leaned back on my heels, and opened my mouth. The first taste of his cock head sent a shiver through my frame. I licked at the slick goo on the large dark head. I could now barely make out in the twilight of the shrubs. Overhead, when I looked up, I could see a faultless deep purple-blue sky. He stepped closer, and then, his shaft was in my mouth. He gripped my head on either side, and whispered: "That's it baby. Suck it for me." I let my tongue wrap around the glans, and he pushed further into my mouth. His large cock head felt like I'd taken a warm plum in my mouth. The slime it was oozing tasted of salt, amonia, and the stale piss I'd smelled earlier.
I started sucking softly on the big shaft and head. He moaned and began to rock his hips gently, whispering over and over: "That's it. That's it. Suck me good." I closed my eyes, and let it happen. He gradually became a little more forceful, and once or twice I gagged on his hardness, but he always pulled back when this happened, and we continued. Several minutes passed like this, and I was getting tired and my jaws were beginning to ache. I tried to pull off him but he held my head tightly in his hands.
"Don't stop now baby. I'm so close. So close. He started fucking a little harder, and then with a sigh, I felt his cock spasim in my mouth, and the first gush of his cum filled every available space in my mouth. I gulped and tried to swallow. The stuff seemed to expand as a second shot flew out of his cock, and it began to dribble out of the sides of my mouth. He shot again, I gulped again, then again, swallowing my first hot load of fresh semen from the source. I knew I was hooked. My face fucker had found himself a cocksucker.
When he finally began to wilt, I let his member slide from my mouth, and stood up on shaky legs. He groped my cock again, and dropping to his knees, he dragged my shorts down to my ankles, and without hesitation, swallowed my rampant dick. I nearly collapsed from the sensations his mouth and tongue sent through my body. I'd never imagined a blow job could feel that good. He moaned, and began bobbing on my shaft, and I grabbed his head and started to fuck his face as he had done mine. I was on a much shorter fuse than he'd been, and before I could stop myself, I felt my load filling his mouth. He made a sound in his throat and started swallowing hard and fast. I poured everything I had into his hungry mouth with unbelievable pleasure.
Finished, we rearrainged our clothes, and tried to calm down enough to make it back to our respective homes. When I turned out of the park into my street, I was surprised to see him follow me. We reached the intersection of my block, and I saw him stop in front of the house on the corner. I stopped, jogging in place, and turned to him. He pointed to the house, and then to himself. He didn't speak, because in the early morning, the sound of voices carried like a gunshot over water.
I pointed to my place three houses down. He gave me a thumb's up sign, and turned up his driveway. I finished my run in my back yard, winding down over a five minute period. My kitchen smelled of good coffee when I entered. I grabbed my sweat towel off the peg I kept it on by the back door, and wiped my face. I looked at the towel, and found a slick of cum from the corners of my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and tasted it again. Definately I was hooked on the stuff.
I poured myself a mug of coffee, and started a pot of water boiling for oatmeal. While I waited, I thought about what had just happened in the park. I wondered at myself and what was obviously a most exotic reaction from my usual ideas about homosexuality. I spooned Stivia over the cerial, and poured a little soy milk on the steaming greul. I stirred it in, and tasted it. I set my spoon down and took a sip of coffee. I stood up and went to my cupboard and got out my cinnimon shaker. I doused the cerial with a couple of shakes, still thinking of the big cock in my mouth. I returned the shaker to the cupboard, and was about to sit down again, when there was a scratching sound on my back screendoor.
I flipped the light on in the yard, and the guy from the park was standing there. I opened the screen door and invited him in. I poured him a cup of my coffee, and he didn't ask to sit at my table. I stirred the cerial, and looked at him. He was medium height, ruddy skinned, and needed a shave. He looked like he had a constant five o:clock shadow, His hair was brown going slightly to gray at the temples. Neither of us spoke while we sipped the coffee. I took a bite of the oatmeal, but it was still a little hot.
"My name's Mitch," I offered him my hand. We shook.
"I'm Don. I just had to stop by to tell you that I really enjoyed the session we just had in the park."
"I guess I did too." I sampled the cerial again, and swallowed a mouth full.
"I don't suppose you might want to make it a regular thing would you?" He looked at me intently with his steaming mug held to his lips.
"I don't usually run that early. The damn mosquitos got me out of bed this morning."
"What about a little later? I suppose I could change my schedule. I'm self employed."
"Well. . ."I took another bite. "The park sort of fills up with joggers and dog walkers during my usual run time."
"Fuck. I need to get off nearly every day. I hate jacking my whang like that, but my fuckin'bitch of a wife won't put out enough for me."
"So you said."
"You have any other ideas? I don't suppose your wife is as bad as mine."
"Actually, I'm pretty much in the same boat you describe, but I'm not married. I live here alone."
"No shit?"
"Not a bit."
"You think. . ."
"We could try it to see how it goes."
"How will we work it?"
"My alarm goes off at 5:00 AM, and I'm usually in the park by 5:30 and run three out and back. I have to be in the office by seven."
"My nuts get me up by 4:00 every morning. I only go to the park to run so I can jerk off. The bitch thinks I'm into health. What if I came straight here, and we took care of each other before you go running."
"We could try it."
"Tomorrow morning?"
"Sure." He drained his coffee, and pushed away from the table. He started out the screen door, but paused, turning to face me with a spoon half way to my mouth.
"By the way, that was one fuckin'great blow job. Where did you learn to suck like that?"
"No where. Sucking your cock was a first for me."
"Jeez. I'm sorry I came so much then."
"Don't be. You showed me something I've been missing in my life. I loved every ounce of it. I can't wait for tomorrow morning."
"I'll be on time."
"You better be, because I just might come and get you if you're not."
"See you then cocksucker." He slipped out the door, and let the screen bang closed, sending a cloud of mosquitos into the morning air. I reached for the second fly swatter I kept in the kitchen, and after taking another bite of cerial, I stood and began stalking the blood sucking bastards.
email: sintitulo2@yahoo.com