Cocksucker’s Blow and Go

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This story is loosely based on a true story.


I waited. The room was dark, with only a sliver of light coming through the edge of the blinds, casting just enough visibility in the room to not walk into a wall, but never enough to see anything, like a face. I was on my knees, in just my boxer briefs, staring at the front door of my apartment. Why, might you ask, was I doing such an odd thing?

I was waiting to suck a cock.

A year or two earlier, I had strayed from an all-straight lifestyle, trying my first gay experience in a fit after breaking up with a girl. A girl with whom I was in a six month relationship – isn’t that always the way it is? Trying guys after a breakup? I had always wanted to try sucking cock, to be honest, but I felt that I could explain it away if it was after a messy breakup. I had been in college, and I had sucked one of my best friends off – he was gay, and mostly discreet, and it was pretty damn hot, to be honest. However, that is another story, for another time. Today I wanted to do that same act. But not in the same way.

I had met this guy on Craigslist. Well, “met”, I suppose, is not really how it went. I posted in the m4m listings, asking for a dominant guy with a big cock that wanted a bottom boy to suck and swallow him, or take a facial. So I guess that isn’t really a meeting, but that’s just semantics. In any event, I received an answer from a guy that told me he had a shaved 8-inch uncut cock, and he worked out, and he’d be on his way. I knew from experience that he probably wasn’t telling the whole truth, but I was thirsty, so I was willing to take whatever showed up. Eight inches is codeword for “I bet I can get away with having an average cock because he won’t kick me out once I’m naked in front of him”. It usually works. Not because I don’t notice that he isn’t what he said he was, but rather because once he’s in front of me, hard at 5 inches, smelly, fat and hairy, I still want his dick. Yeah, I would have preferred what he advertised, but realistically, that’s hard to find on Craigslist anyway.

So I was sitting there, on my knees, amsterdam shemale waiting for him to show up. I had left my apartment door unlocked, and ajar – not wide open, but just about a quarter inch from being shut, so he would notice that it was inviting him in. Some guys just need that sign to not chicken out. I had been here in this position for about 10 minutes or so, hoping he wouldn’t flake out. I had knocked back a couple shots of rum earlier – I usually need a bit of liquid courage to meet up with a guy. You always hear stories about “the craigslist killer” and you do the napkin math, and figure there’s no way you’ll ever meet an actual killer. The rush is still there though – who will show up, and what will he really want to do? More often he’s a bottom that wants to suck you, and that’s really the worst you have to worry about.

Soft footsteps jolted me out of my musings. Your mind tends to wander while you’re waiting – what else is there to do? I heard my doorknob turn, and I saw the shadow of the door open. I licked my lips, and a rush of adrenaline flowed through my veins. My cock hardened slightly – not fully, but just enough to push against my boxer briefs. Not that I was hiding anything in the first place.

The guy came into the room. “B” he had called himself. I could see his silhouette, but not his face. I could make out a t-shirt, jeans, and a ball cap. He seemed to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

“You the cocksucker?”

My dick jumped a bit at being called my own personal favorite dirty name.

“Yes sir,” I replied. My mouth was drying up like cotton. Hopefully it wouldn’t stay like that.

“Good. Time to get to work.” I could hear a belt buckle and zipper. My blood was zipping through me – moment of truth. Please, please, please have a nice dick.

“B” stepped closer. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand on my head. It pulled me forward, and I felt his dick touch my cheek. I lifted my hand and took hold of it, guiding it to my mouth.

“Drop that hand bitch.” It wasn’t a request. I did as told. And then it invaded my mouth. Just as I was praying, rotterdam shemale it was as he had described. No pubic hair rubbing on my face, no smell of sweat, no bulging belly pushing on my forehead. Just a nice, thick, uncut cock, filling my mouth. I moaned in appreciation, glad that he had told the truth, and even more glad that such a nice dick was making contact with my tongue.

“I knew you’d like it. I’m in a hurry, so make this quick, fag.” The word stung – I hated how it made me feel so dirty and yet, it turned me on. Being called names was something that really made me feel weak, in a good way, even as it degraded me. I suppose that’s all connected. I tried, unsuccessfully, to put it out of my mind. It’s hard to not have a sliver of contempt for yourself when you have a fat cock belonging to a stranger buried in your throat. I reached up – yep, my nipples were hard as rocks.

I focused on my task – I wanted to make this random guy feel good. His dick was thick, with a thin foreskin that rolled easily up and down his cock as I covered it in my saliva. I tried to go down as far as possible – I couldn’t quite go all the way. I figured with some time, I could work it all the way down my throat, but he ordered me to be quick, so quick I would be. I wondered where he was planning to shoot his load.

I shifted to his balls – shaved as well. This guy really had a nice package, and he took care of it. This was rare, and I wanted to savor it. “B” had other ideas. He grabbed my left ear, and pulled it backwards. I let my head tilt back, which naturally opened my mouth wider. Instantly his dick was back in my mouth, and he started to thrust his hips, fucking my face as he did so. I decided it was time to sit still and let him do his work. I relaxed as he grabbed my other ear, and started to get a rhythm going.

As “B” continued to thrust in and out of my mouth, I pulled my boxer briefs down and grabbed my own cock. It was hard as a rock as well. I timed my own jacking to his thrusts, my other hand teasing that spot right above my hole. “Mmmm, yeah, take that cock, whore,” I heard him blog shemale whisper. I let myself imagine for a moment that I was a stripper that he had gotten into a back room, and that I was blowing him to make some amount of money. It really turned me on to feel used, and dirty. It helped that I was being used, and being dirty. I had to stop touching myself, as I was on the edge of cumming.

“B” started breathing hard. I could tell that he was staring to get close. It was a little sooner than I wanted, so I tried to pull off to prolong this session. He was having none of that, as he grabbed my head firmly and started pumping faster. It was getting harder to breathe, and I struggled to keep up and time my breaths with his thrusts.

“Here I come, slut. Hope you’re ready for this!” With a grunt, he pulled his dick out of my mouth. I held my mouth open, waiting for the inevitable shower of cum. Seconds passed, and all I heard was the quiet squish of his hand on his own dick. My tongue extended, desiring his cum, or the return of his dick. I didn’t have to wait long. Without warning, the first stream of cum hit my cheek. The next two sprayed over my tongue and chin, and I quickly closed my mouth and swallowed his cum, tasting the liquid that had been shot in it. Salty, but delicious in its own way. The last couple of shots fell on my cheek, as “B” rubbed his dick on my face and exhaled heavily. I grabbed my own dick again and started jacking furiously. He pulled back as I did so, and as I closed in on my own orgasm, I could hear a zipper and belt buckle in the background.

My body temperature rose, and I could feel my cock fully harden. Suddenly, my orgasm overtook me, and I came heavily, dropping my cum on to the carpet in front of me. I shuddered as I rocked back and forth on my knees, trying not to fall over while not interrupting the flood coursing through my body.

I could hear “B” moving to the door as I came down, relaxed and sated. As I warmed and un-tensed my body, a familiar sense of shame entered my thoughts. I ignored it as best I could. “I’ll be in contact cocksucker – and next time, you better be ready for a marathon blow. Later.”

The door closed, and I let my body fall backwards. As I played with my softening dick, I felt both anticipation and trepidation for our next meeting. Next time, I would experience that dick fully.

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