Headbangers Ball - Chapter 1
So this is a true story about how I developed a unique fetish. It is not for everyone, so I won't be offended if you don't read all of the installments in this series. There are plenty of stories and even entire categories on this site that do absolutely nothing for me. But I've met enough guys into this particular fetish over the years, and also talked to a few guys who are like me, strange as that is, so I know there will be a segment of readers, small as it may be, who will find this topic interesting and even exiting. So if you discover that you are one who does, feel free to reach out to me (my email is posted at the top). I'm actually hoping to talk to, and even meet, others who are into this, especially if you are the active type who wants to inflict this fetish on me.
The first time it happened was by accident. I was sucking a buddy's cock after school like I had been for a few weeks. How that all started isn't that important, and not really the point of the story. It's safe to say I was very curious as a young boy, and I had a best friend who had older brothers and I saw my first porno magazine when I was seven, so I had figured out that mouths and dicks went together sometimes. And after a few "practices" giving and receiving, I figured out early on that I preferred to give head rather than receive it. It wasn't hard to find school buddies and older boys in the neighborhood who were also curious, and as luck would have it, they mostly preferred to receive than give. And it didn't take long before I developed a secret reputation as someone who would rather give head and who was actually pretty good at it, too. And that's the fastest way to explain how this all started. But like I said, this is not the point of my story. I want to write about a strange but very specific fetish I developed, and over this series of writings, I not only want to share my experiences and how this fetish developed to where it is today, but also delve into some of the psychology that explains why I ended up this way. I'm a smart guy, and still curious about a lot of things, so learning the science behind it all is rather interesting to me, and I think you will learn something, too. I haven't damaged my brain enough to turn me into a drooling retard yet, but I'm kind of working toward that believe it or not. So I want to write this all down while I still have the capacity to do it.
Anyway, the first time it happened was by accident. Like I said, I was sucking a buddy's cock after school like I had been for a few weeks. We always had to do it quick because we were both afraid of getting caught. We were upstairs in the bathroom I shared with my sisters and he and I had the door locked. The bathroom wasn't big, just a tub with a shower curtain, a toilet, and double sinks with a vanity. There wasn't a lot of room in there. I was sitting on the floor against the bathroom vanity; he was standing with his pants around his ankles and his cock in my mouth. Like most young teen boys, he was horny and he went fast. I sucked for a couple minutes but he always started thrusting. He wasn't overly aggressive, at least not on purpose. The best word I can use is urgent. There was urgency to his actions. He wanted to get off, he needed to cum, he enjoyed having frequent orgasms and he always said my mouth felt better than his hand. And since I was into giving head we made a good match. Added to his urgent need for release, he had that fear of being caught, afraid of that knock on the door, having to explain to one of my sisters why he and I both were in the bathroom at the same time with the door locked. So we had to be quick. And we tried to be quiet, but we weren't always able to keep the noises down.
So I'm sitting on the floor, my back to the bathroom vanity, which had wood doors under each sink, and some drawers on each side full of makeup, hair dryers, curling irons, all that stuff my sisters used. There was no room for any of my stuff. And not much room to give head in there either. But it was the only room in the house that locked and he felt safest in there, so that's where we headed most afternoons after school. So with me sitting with my back to the vanity, he stood in front of me facing the big mirror over the double sinks. My buddy told me a couple times that he kind of liked looking at himself in the mirror when he got his cock sucked. With me sitting on the floor, he said he could barely see the top of my head above the vanity counter top, so he could easy imagine he was fucking some girl's face or pussy. That didn't bother me one bit. We were both into girls, and what we did together after school was mostly out of necessity for him, because not a lot of girls willingly sucked cock. Plus what we did together was fun and it felt really good, and it didn't really mean any more than that.
So I'm sitting on the floor in front of him, my back to the bathroom vanity, sucking my buddy's cock and he was getting into it and thrusting as I sucked. I'm known as an aggressive cocksucker, I don't like to just sit there. I like to suck and thrust my face forward and deep throat and use my tongue, and apply a lot of suction. So as my buddy would thrust into me, on his pull backs I would more my head and torso forward. I liked developing a synchronized rhythm. If you would have seen us, it was like I was sitting on my ass and rocking forward and back while at the same time he is moving his hips back and forth. So on his pull back strokes, I move forward; on his thrusts into me, I'm pushed backward. Now I'm not sure if he was just super horny that day, or he was lost in some really hot fantasy in his mind while he watched himself in the mirror, but his thrusts were faster and harder than usual. And he leaned forward some and put his hands on the vanity counter and that slight change in position gave his hips more thrusting power, and the back of my head started hitting the vanity and the counter top. So as he thrusted forwarded, the back of my head hit the counter; as he pulled back, I moved my body and head forward. It was only a few inches, maybe 4 or 5, but my head was away from the counter top far enough that on his next forceful thrust, I was pushed backwards and my head hit the counter again. It wasn't hitting that hard, but it was enough that I noticed it was happening. It didn't really hurt either, it was just very different than how things usually happened with him. And like I said, he was slightly leaning over, and that added to his thrusting power, and he was lost in the pleasure he was feeling, and as I described earlier, he had an urgency to cum and a need to do it quickly so no one would catch us. All of that added up to the last minute or two of this blow job being my first head banging experience. It wasn't intentional on his part. He didn't even know it was happening. But it sparked something in me. It changed me.
At the time I didn't really have words to describe what I felt. But as this fetish developed over the years, I have uncovered a lot of feelings and reasons why this progressed to where I am today. This first time, it heightened my sense of being used by another person for their sexual gratification. This went beyond any mutual pleasure. I felt like he just used me as a hole to get off in. And that excited me. Up until now, cock sucking was fun and I enjoyed doing it, the feel of cock in my mouth, the challenge of deep throating, the feel of a cock that throbs during orgasm, and the feel, smell and taste of cum on my face and in my mouth. There was enough I got out of it to know I liked giving head, and I guess I saw it as a mutual thing where we were doing each other a favor. There wasn't any meaning attached to it. We were just buddies hanging out and doing stuff, and sometimes that stuff involved me giving him blow jobs. But this time I was feeling different after we finished. Like I said, I felt used and that excited me. For the first time I recognized that he was so focused on himself and his pleasure that he didn't care about me. It was like he disassociated during those last few minutes when he was thrusting harder. He was lost in his selfish pleasures and never even noticed my head was banging the counter behind me. It was like I wasn't even there.
But there was more to it. Like I said, it didn't really hurt, or at least not while it was happening, as I discovered that I too was lost in the moment. But why did I experience that same disassociation when I wasn't getting any pleasure? Or maybe I was getting pleasure in a different way? It was odd to think about, but I have an analytical mind and I often want to know the "why" behind actions, feelings, and thoughts. It took a while to figure out all of the "whys" associated with my head banging fetish, and I will delve deeper into those in future installments. But this first time I was just as confused as maybe you are right now. Why would I get pleasure out of being used in a way that made my head hit a counter top repeatedly while some buddy of mine shot his cum in my mouth? Pleasure is a complicated word. It's not just about what feels good. It's more about the chemicals that get released in the brain, like dopamine and other organic chemicals of the catecholamine and phenethylamine families. I told you I'm smart and analytical, but I promise not to get too deep into the weeds here; we'll save that for later after we explore some of my experiences in much greater and more vulgar detail. For now, after this first time, brief as it was, I knew I liked it. I liked that my head was hitting the counter top. And I knew I wanted more of that.
But it was over too quick. I had already swallowed and my buddy was pulling up his pants and we didn't talk about what happened. Like I said, he was oblivious anyway. I knew he had a good orgasm though, because of the intensity of his final few thrusts, the moan that came from him, and the way his legs were still shaking as he buckled his belt while I still sat on the floor with my face at his crotch level. We went to my room and played a few video games until almost five o'clock, when he had to get going because his dad came home from work around then and he was supposed to be home. It was Thursday, so we'd see each other in school tomorrow. So that was it. He left, but I was still thinking about it. I didn't jack off or anything, as I was saving that for later when I could watch some porn before bed. That's what I preferred, anyway. I didn't want or need to get off when I was blowing my buddy. And he was actually fine with that and even preferred that I didn't do that in front of him anyway. Looking back, me not getting any sexual gratification at the same time as he did was just another building block of this fetish. And it's not hard to figure out that as it evolved into what it is now, keeping my own sexual gratification separate from the fetish of head banging only fueled its development.
So, the next day at school, as was our usual standard practice, we said nothing to each other about what we did after school. It was pretty much a given we'd walk or ride bikes to my house, unless something came up that prevented either one of us from hanging out that afternoon. Neither of us was in sports, so we didn't have practice or games or anything. But there were family things, dinners, birthday parties, relatives in town, appointments, and random stuff that just came up from time to time. But this Friday there was nothing going on, so after school that day he came over again. And as usual, we went upstairs and locked ourselves in the bathroom. For a 16 year old teen boy, a blow job maybe lasted 10 minutes at the most. My buddy didn't have a lot of self-control when it came to urgent needs, and by now we had done this enough that his body was trained to expect a quick release at about this same time every day. And I guess I was like one of Pavlov's dogs; instead of drooling at the sound of a bell, I started drooling at the sound of him opening his belt buckle and pulling down his fly. I was in position sitting on the floor against the vanity before he even had the bathroom door fully closed and locked. I later developed a term for this, calling it "scrambling" into place. I get so excited I can't wait for it and I quickly move into position and sometimes it makes guys laugh that I need and want this that badly and desperately. But I can't help it, especially now at this stage.
So I scrambled into place and watched him drop his pants down around his ankles. Sitting on the floor, I always spread my legs wide, so he is standing between them. This way he does not need to remove his pants and they can stay bunched around his ankles. It saves time. He was mostly already hard, and it didn't take more than a minute of sucking to bring him to a full erection. This is not the part in the story where I lie and tell you he had an enormous schlong. It was normal, about six inches, and it got very hard and was completely straight, no curve to it at all. The head was flared and had a nice ridge, the kind that pulls on your lips when he is on the back stroke and his cock is almost about to pop out of my mouth. He must feel the pressure of my lips on the back ridge of his cock head and uses that as a type of measurement, knowing when he feels that he needs to stop drawing his hips back and start thrusting them forward again. And I use it as a measurement too, when I feel his cock head just at the point where it is about to pop out through my tight sucking lips, that's when I push myself forward and the back of my head leaves the counter top 4 or 5 inches only to meet his next thrust, and his cock, powered by his hips and strong leg muscles, goes deep into my mouth again and hits the back of my throat, driving my head back until my skull bangs the counter top. Describing it this may makes it sound like we are moving in slow motion, but this entire process takes less than a second. We eventually get into a rhythm and it picks up speed and gains in force the closer he gets toward orgasm. The whole thing, start to finish, is pretty awesome to me, but it's that frenzied, urgent finish that (pun intended) "drives it home" for me.
And this need for the rougher banging only intensifies as this strange fetish evolves. But for now, this is only the second head banging blow job for me. That first time was quick and a little confusing, but I knew I liked it and wanted to do more of it. So here I am sucking him to full hardness and he is starting his thrusting movements. And I'm doing my signature move where I rock forward on each of his pull back strokes to meet his thrusts, and the blow job is going along like they usually do. But at this moment his thrusts just aren't quite hard enough to make my head hit the counter like he did at the end of yesterday's blow job. So I did something I never did before during any blow job I've given to him or any other guy. I stopped, pulled off his cock and just politely asked if he could fuck my face harder. He said something like, "sure," and he started with some harder thrusting but still not like he did yesterday. After a minute I pulled off his cock again, something I hate to do, but I wasn't getting him to do what he did yesterday and I was getting frustrated. So I suggested he lean forward more and put his hands on the counter top. Maybe he didn't realize he did it that way yesterday, so I figured I could remind him. It worked. Something about that position gave him extra thrusting power and now his thrusts were hard enough to make my head have contact with the counter top. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed. My head was banging but it didn't hurt or anything, but it was hard enough that he noticed this time and he stopped thrusting so hard. He didn't stop thrusting altogether, his hips were still moving and I was still moving with him to meet his thrusts, but he lowered the power a bit and I heard him "sorry." That caused me again to do something I hate doing. I put both of my hands up on his thighs and pushed back and made him stop thrusting and let his cock pop out of my mouth. I just said "I like it" and I took him back in my mouth and he started thrusting again but was still holding back. So I had to push on his thighs again and pull my mouth off of him so I could say, "Do it harder like before." He didn't say anything and we went back at it and he started putting the power back into his thrusting and my head once again was banging the counter. And I guess he got the message because he didn't stop this time. He fell into his selfish mode and concentrated on his pleasure and perhaps the fantasy in his head that he was fucking some girl from school. I concentrated on the rhythm: the movement of his hips, the movement of my body rocking forward, the power of his thrusts driving my head backwards, and the steady, sustained, repeated banging of my skull on the vanity countertop. I felt mild vibrations tickling my brain. I can't really describe it any better than that. I've learned that this tickling sensation in my brain is what happens during a mild head banging session. Later on, as I got into having this done to me a lot harder, that tickle would become a tingling, much like an electric current humming through my brain that, believe it or not, is very addictive to a guy like me. It would take several more mild head banging blow job sessions with my buddy before he took me to that higher level of bliss. But for now, in this moment back then, I was lost in the mild tickling sensation and the sound of my skull hitting the countertop. A dull thud, thud, thud, in a steady rhythm while he fucked my face, banging his cock on the back wall of my throat, concentrating on his own pleasure as he worked himself toward orgasm. It only took another 3 to 4 minutes until he climaxed, and it was an even more powerful orgasm than the one he had yesterday afternoon. His last thrust banged my head nice and hard and my skull was pinned to the hard counter top of the bathroom vanity as he shot his cum in the back of my throat. His knees buckled as the last of his orgasm waved through his body. And I swallowed all that thick teen boy cum and sucked his cock clean before he pulled his cock out of my mouth and started pulling up his pants. I sat and stared at his crotch, licking my lips as he buttoned his cargo pants, pulled up the zipper, and buckled his belt. When he stepped back I got up off the floor and he unlocked the bathroom door and we went to my room. We didn't' play video games though. We just hung out and talked about what we were doing for the weekend. He was going out of town with his parents. My stepdad had already told me I'd be mowing the lawn Saturday, and I mentioned something about taking the girl I was casually dating out to see a movie or something Saturday night. After an hour or so he took off for home, and we both knew that Monday he would likely be back here again after school for another blow job. And I knew I wanted him to be face fuck me hard enough to bang my head against the bathroom vanity again.
And he did come over on Monday after school, and we did go up to the bathroom, and I scrambled into place while he locked the door. He stood in front of me and unbuckled his belt, undid the button and pulled down the fly and let his pants and boxers fall to his ankles. And before I leaned forward to take his stiff cock into my mouth again, I said "do it hard like you did last time." He didn't say anything but I wanted to know that he heard me and knew what I wanted. I also didn't want to have to put my hands on his thighs and push on him to stop so I could tell him to do it harder. I wanted him to know up front. So I paused and looked up at him and added, "Please?" He just nodded and I started sucking. After about a minute of strong suction and some tongue action under his cock head to get him fully rock hard, he leaned over and placed his hands on the bathroom vanity counter top and started thrusting. My head hit the counter top but I leaned forward on his back stroke to follow his cock and to get my head in position to meet his next thrust and he did it hard enough to bang my head again. Within a few seconds we were into a familiar, established, steady rhythm. The whole thing was magical to me. Instead of just getting my head banged for the last couple minutes of the blow job, I was going to get head banged the entire time today. It was a good fast pace too. I wasn't trying to count, but I found myself at one point doing just that, and I got up over 100 and lost my place and gave up on that. I know now that the standard pace I like is 1.67 head bangs per second. That comes to roughly 100 head bangs per minute. It turns out that's a natural body rhythm, as the human heart at rest beats at that speed (more science for those who are curious and analytical like me). So as I said earlier, most teen boys have a quick trigger and I estimate blow jobs on my buddy usually lasted 8 to 10 minutes at the most. We weren't thinking about edging or "making it last" at this point. It was all about efficiency and getting the deed done before one of my sisters wanted to use the bathroom. So even being on the conservative end of things, that first full head-banging blow job resulted in my skull banging the bathroom vanity counter top a minimum of 800 times before my buddy came in the back of my throat. As soon as he was done, however, I already needed more banging. And while I probably could have gotten my buddy hard again for another blow job before he left, we always just stopped after one. He seemed spent and satisfied, and really that's what was most important: his pleasure and his satisfaction.
Tuesday came and went. No head banging blow job. He had a dentist appointment or something. I don't remember exactly. He came over after school on Wednesday, though, and things happened pretty much like they did on Monday, except I did not have to ask him to do it hard. I didn't have to say please or beg him for it. Eventually I did have to start begging for it, and I will explain that in the next installment. Just know they we kept a pretty regular schedule for several months. But school was close to ending for the year and between vacations, summer jobs, and dating girls, I gave him fewer blow jobs, but they got longer and the head banging got harder to make up the difference. We were both developing a fetish for this and it was evolving. For me, however, it was becoming more of an addiction than a fetish, and by the end of this series you will know exactly what I mean by that.