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My Secret Service
By Harrison Conway
I met Jim and Jen when I moved to the neighborhood three years ago after my first novel was purchased by a major publisher.
Jim, a financial planner, helped me set up investments for most of my money and Jen took me under her wing in setting up my house, the first "real" home I'd had since my divorce a few years earlier.
We became fast friends. Since Jen didn't work, and I worked from home, one of us would often stop by the other's house for a cup of coffee during the day. Jim and I shared a love of sports, especially college football, so we had subjects to talk about other than how my nest egg was doing in the markets.
They often invited me over for dinner, which usually led to drinking. One early fall evening, they called me to come over for steaks and beers.
After a lovely meal that included several beers and a shot or 5 of some yummy apple pie "moonshine" made by a local distiller, I was full, buzzing and enjoying the cool autumn air as darkness settled our neighborhood.
We'd eaten poolside. As the air chilled, Jen stood up abruptly.
"Boys, I'm cold," she said. "Let's get in the hot tub."
She stood up and peeled off her shirt, revealing a black satin bra that was doing all it could to contain her large breasts. When she unbuttoned and stepped out of her jeans, I saw she was wearing a matching set of panties that rode high on her wide hips and barely covered half of her plump derriere.
"This is as modest as any swimsuit I've got," she said. "Now, grab that bottle and join me."
When Jen got to the hot tub, she reached back and unclasped her bra.
"This is a $70 bra, I don't want to soak it in chlorine," she said. "But you boys have to promise not to try and look at my titties."
Jim and I hadn't moved a muscle. As Jen slipped into the bubbling water, I looked over at him.
He shrugged.
"Maybe I should go home and get my trunks," I said, loud enough Jen could hear.
"Oh, bullshit, Will," she said. "Just get down to your underwear and get in. You are wearing underwear, aren't you?"
I assured her I was.
Jim and I walked over to the hot tub and began to undress. I was happy, for once, that I didn't have a big dick, hoping that the growing bulge in my boxer briefs would be dismissed as what might be visible if one were looking at a more well-endowed man.
I caught a glimpse of Jim as we slipped into the water. He was a few inches taller than me, and probably 15 pounds lighter. I couldn't tell what he was packing, as his boxers did a good job of hanging loosely from his trim hips.
"Now, isn't this better than sitting at the patio table?" Jen asked.
As we soaked, Jen probed me about my love life.
"Why aren't you dating?" she asked. "It's been nearly four years since your divorce. I'm sure I can find someone nice for you, if you want."
"I'm just not interested," I said. "I have my work. And I can't convince myself that I want to go down that road again."
"But you must have needs, you are a man," Jen said.
"I was married for 10 years, I'm well accustomed to taking care of myself," I said, which drew a laugh from Jim.
Jen gave me a wicked look and grinned just a bit.
"Or maybe you want to switch teams," she said.
"Hey, now, college was a long time ago," I said, expecting a laugh.
Jen giggled. But Jim wasn't laughing, and I worried that I had offended him. He gave me a funny look that I couldn't quite interpret.
"Well, if you change your mind, I can totally set you up," Jen said.
I was relieved, when the conversation shifted, and Jen began filling us both in on the neighborhood gossip: which wives were fooling around on their husbands, which husbands were fooling around on their wives and which couples were fooling around on each other.
All the while, the bubbling water covered just enough of her clearly natural breasts to keep me from staring, but revealing enough to make me wish I could see more.
After about 30 minutes, I was really feeling the booze and the heat from the tub. I excused myself and stumbled home. They bid me good-night and Jim slid around closer to his wife as I climbed out.
I made it up the stairs and found a towel in my bathroom to dry off, leaving my wet underwear laying on the floor. I flipped off the light and turned to head for bed, when it occurred to me that while a large tree blocked my view of their backyard from my bathroom and bedroom, I could likely see my friends from the still-empty guest bedroom next door.
I guess I could have tried to convince myself that I merely wanted to make sure they were OK, given their inebriated state, but that wasn't true. I loved Jen's body, and a peek at her boobs would fuel my masturbatory fantasies for months.
What I saw from the darkened window was better than I could have hoped for. Jen was bent over the side of the tub, her breasts swinging in rhythm as Jim fucked her from behind.
She gripped the side of the tub with one one hand, while the other reached back between her legs.
My cock sprang to life and I pumped it with the same pace Jim was fucking his wife.
It wasn't long until Jen arched her back, the wet ends of her dark, curly hair clinging to her back. Her mouth dropped open and though I couldn't hear them, I could tell by the look on her face that she was in the throes of an orgasm.
Jim gripped her waist with both hands and pumped faster. When he pushed as deeply as he could, I knew he was filling his wife's pussy with his cum.
I shot my load all over the window and the wall. I came so hard my knees nearly buckled and I grabbed the wall for support.
Jim slipped from inside his wife and sank into the water, but not before I got a look at his cock. Even shrinking away after his orgasm, I could tell that he was bigger than me, probably by several inches.
Jen stood and turned, giving me my first good look at her body. Her boobs stayed surprisingly high, given their size. Her flat stomach stretched to her crotch, where I thought in the light from the hot tub, I could make out a small strip of pubic hair above her otherwise shaved pussy.
She glanced toward my house and I recoiled, worried she could see me standing in the window, even though there were no lights on in the room. I stumbled to my bed and passed out on top of the duvet, my dick still leaking onto the fabric as I quickly fell asleep.
A few days later, I was puttering around in my garage when Jim came walking up the driveway carrying the clothes I'd worn to his house for dinner.
"You forgot these the other night," he said.
"I hadn't even missed them," I replied.
"I hope you weren't bothered by Jen's exhibitionism," he said. "She has a hard time keeping her clothes on when she's drinking."
"It didn't bother me at all," I replied. "I always enjoy y'all's company. And like she said, she was sorta wearing a swim suit."
We stood and talked about about the next week's football games for a few minutes. But then Jim got the same look on his face he'd had in the hot tub.
"I want to ask you a question, and if you don't want to answer, I understand," he said. "Were you kidding the other night when you, umm, made that joke about, umm, college?"
I didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably not more than 10 seconds.
"Listen, Jim, I'm going to tell you something that only one other person on this planet knows," I said. "And if I offend you, I'm sorry. When I was in college, I had a homosexual relationship."
"I'm not offended," he replied. "Honestly, I though you were hiding the truth with your joke. Do you mind if I ask you how it started?"
So I told him my story.
When I was a sophomore, I was assigned to a dorm room in the athletic dorm, even though I wasn't an athlete. My roommate was a senior, a popular member of the soccer team. He and I became quick friends, and he would invite me to hang out with him and the team, when he wasn't busy with his girlfriend.
She was on the dance team -- a beautiful blonde with a long, dancer's body. When he could get her in the sack, I would wait in the hallway, or crash on the common room couch.
The problem was she didn't want to fuck nearly as often as he did, something he complained to me about nearly every day. One day, while we were sitting in our room drinking and playing video games, he told me that she wouldn't give him a blow job, no matter how much he begged.
"If she won't do it, I'm going to find someone who will," he said.
It was quiet for a few minutes and then he turned to me.
"I want you to do it."
The words hung in the air. I didn't say anything and I didn't look at him. My heart pounded in my chest.
"Will, I know you like girls. So do I. But I see the way you look at me. I can see it in your eyes that you want to."
He was right, and I knew it. I had seen him naked in our room many times and I was strangely attracted to his cock, which was much bigger than my 5-incher.
"C'mon man. Just do it. I swear I'll never tell anybody."
He stood and pushed his shorts down, revealing his growing erection.
I took it into my mouth and gave it my best effort, gagging a few times when he pushed his cock too far toward my throat. Soon enough, he tried to pull away.
"I'm cumming," he said.
I grabbed his hips and help his spasming cock in my mouth, swallowing to keep from drowning.
Later, he told me I was the first person to put his dick in their mouth, despite having begged every girl he'd ever dated. After that, I blew him almost every day until he graduated in the spring.
Looking up at Jim, I realized I'd been talking nonstop for nearly 20 minutes.
"So that's my story," I said. "I hope I didn't tell you more than you wanted to hear."
Jim still had that funny look on his face, and now it was his turn to let the conversation lag.
"That's quite a story," he said. "And I won't tell anyone, I promise. Actually, it's kinda funny."
"Funny, how?" I asked.
He paused again.
"It's funny, because my story is almost exactly the opposite," he said. "In college, I was the guy getting my dick sucked.
"I went to school on a basketball scholarship, as you know. I hurt my knee during my sophomore season and was spending a lot of time in the trainer's room doing rehab. The assistant trainer, a guy that was only a few years older than me, was assigned to help me.
"We became friends, I guess, talking about our lives and girls and whatnot while I did all the rehab work. Each day, I'd have to soak my knee in an ice bath for 30 minutes after I was done. After, I'd often sit in the sauna to relax and warm up.
"One day, after a really hard workout and the ice treatment, I went to the sauna to relax and warm up. I must have drifted off, because when I woke up, the trainer was standing there, looking at me. As I came to, I realized I had a hard-on, which he could clearly see.
"He looked at my cock and then in my eye and said, 'Let me get that for you.' The next thing I know, he's between my legs, with my dick in his mouth.
"I was freaked out for about 30 seconds. I wanted to stop him, but it felt so good. The next thing I know, I'm coming and he's swallowing it.
"After that, he sucked me off a few other times. The funny thing is, we never, ever spoke of it, even in passing. I'd be undressed, or mostly undressed and he'd just ... do it."
My cock was leaking into my underwear as I listened to his story.
I knew what I wanted to say, but I didn't have the guts to say it. So I said the first thing that came to mind.
"You want a beer?"
"Absolutely."
We stood there in silence, gulping our beers. Then Jim broke the ice.
"Did he ever, you know, do anything for you?" he asked.
I shook my head no.
"It was pretty clear it was a one-way street," I said. "You?"
"No. Same thing."
Silence fell over us again. Jim finished his beer and walked to throw the bottle in the recycling bin by the door leading to the house. As he dropped the bottle, he turned back toward me and took a deep breath.
"Do you want to suck my dick?" he asked.
"Absolutely. Let's go inside."
I followed Jim into my den, my heart pounding in my chest. Was I really going to suck his cock? My mind raced with all the ways this could end poorly, but my growing hard-on and the desire to get him in my mouth overrode any attempt at logic or reason.
He turned to look at me. If he was conflicted, I couldn't tell. I guess getting up the courage to ask me had settled the matter for him.
"Where do you want me?" he asked.
"No, no. Where do you want me?" I managed to say.
"How about I sit on the couch?"
Jim took off his pants and untangled his cock from the boxers he had on underneath, dropping them on the floor. He sat on the edge of my couch and laid back into the cushions.
His dick, already erect, was bigger and thicker than mine. I would guess seven or eight inches.
"I don't have a lot of time," Jim said. "I told Jen I would drop off your clothes and come right back. I'd hate for her to come looking for me."
I sank to the carpet between his knees, took a deep breath, and leaned in to kiss and lick the head of his cock. The taste and feel of his manhood on my tongue made my own penis twitch and ache for my hand.
But there would be time for my pleasure later. I licked my lips, opened wide and took him into my willing mouth.
when my lips closed around him, about halfway down his shaft, we both moaned. Jim's cry was loudest, but in fairness, his mouth wasn't full of dick.
It had been nearly 20 years since I had a cock in my mouth, but it didn't take me long to find my old college form. I pressed his dick against the roof of my mouth while working the underside of his shaft with my tongue.
I could taste the precum flowing from Jim's dick in the back of my throat and I tried to take him deeper. In college, I learned to deep throat my roommate, and I knew that if I could take all of Jim into my mouth, it would send him over the edge.
I didn't choke on his dick, but I could feel my gag reflex building. I backed off, letting his cock slip from my mouth so I could swallow and gather myself. I'd closed my eyes as I sucked Jim's cock and when the world came back into focus, Jim was looking at me.
He had one hand under his shirt and I could see that he was playing with his nipple.
"They're sensitive," he said, as if he needed to explain to the neighbor who 10 seconds before had been trying to swallow his cock.
"Mine, too." I said.
I licked his shaft from the root to the tip and took him back in my mouth. I wrapped my fist around the base of his dick and began sucking him in earnest. I knew we didn't have much time and I wanted his cum in my mouth.
I wasn't but a minute or two before I felt his shaft swell and the hand that wasn't busy on his nipple found the back of my head.
"Oh, goddamn," he moaned. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Oh, shit!"
His load, sticky and warm, filled my mouth. His cock twitched and jumped as his orgasm overtook him. I swallowed, hard, taking his seed into my belly as a sense of satisfaction I had long forgotten washed over me.
I held him in my mouth until I sensed he was done and finally let go of his now-spent manhood.
Just as I did, the phone in Jim's pants started ringing.
"Jen," he mouthed to me, as he answered. "Hi, honey. Yes, I know I said I'd be right back. We got to talking and I lost track of time. I'll be right there."
As he talked, Jim quickly dressed. I'd moved so he could stand, but hadn't got off the floor. He patted me on the head and mouthed, "Thanks. I'll call you," as he walked to the door, Jen still chirping in his ear.
The door hadn't even closed behind him, when I put my hands in my pants and squeezed my sticky cock. Quickly, I pushed my pants down around my knees and shucked my shirt.
I'd leaked so much precum while sucking Jim's dick that I could hardly get a grip on my own. I stroked it furiously, reliving the conversation we'd had and the sensation of having my mouth filled with his cum, even as the taste lingered in my mouth.
It didn't take but a few seconds for me to shoot my load all over my belly. As I lay on my den floor, my clothes and limbs askew, I scooped up as much of my ejaculate as I could, licking it from my fingers and swallowing it down.
Now I had two loads in my belly. It felt great. I was a cocksucker once again.