Josh's First Fucking
by 0813 on the BackDoor
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
It was the summer of my 16th birthday. I had just finished my
junior year of high school, and I was looking forward to spending my time driving around in my new car. I was one of the
lucky ones. My father wasn't rich, but we were well off; I had
been pulling good grades all my freakin' school life, so I guess
my parents felt some kind of obligation to me. And it was mine,
all mine -- a brand new Nissan Sentra. It was gorgeous; jet
black exterior, with a charcoal grey cloth interior. It was the
best! I could look hot driving around the town, yet still hold
an air of responsibility and maturity (which, I think, is one of
the reasons I got the car in the first place).
I wasn't the most popular kid in school; never was. And I certainly wasn't the best looking, or the best built. I had short
blond hair that was well groomed, cut in the two-length style
that skateboarders had made the rage. Truth was, I never could
skateboard; I just liked how it looked. Funny, my eyebrows
weren't the same color as my hair; they've always been quite a
bit darker, but they really showed off the blue of my eyes.
(Well, that's what my girlfriend used to say.) I was pretty
tall for a 16 year old, about five foot ten, and I was still
growing, though in height only. I was thin, though that was an
understatement. I was skinny, or at least I thought so, and we
all know how we are our own worst critic. I really used to get
sick of hearing people tell me, "I wish I could eat like you and
stay that thin." Well, fuck you.
I had a girlfriend, but it was nothing really serious. Most of
the guys I knew had been fucking girls for a year, some of them
two. I hadn't done it once. Proverbially, I hadn't even made
it to first base; and, strangely enough, I really hadn't wanted
to. I was happy just having friends. I had quite a few
friends, at school and at the office building I worked in after
school. I was leading a pretty normal life, and I didn't have
any problems with it.
Now that's a lie. Looking back, I had tons of problems. Most
of them, just your ordinary, stupid teenager problems. I hated
the way I looked, I hated that I wasn't super popular, I hated
the fact that girls who put out wouldn't even give the time of
day. I was a kid, plain and simple. When you're 16, you're a
kid, there's no question about that. A kid with insignificant
kid concerns. You know, there's something kind of magical about
that; there really is. When you're adult, you worry too much;
when you're a kid, you worry too much -- the difference is in
what you worry about.
Now, I was ready for a pretty average day. I was going to work
at the firm. I always liked the sound of that -- "the firm".
It sounded so . . . professional. It was a law firm, one of the
many in my area, though I think it might have been the largest.
There were five full fledged partners, and seventeen or eighteen
associates. I liked working there. It kind of inspired me. I
used to watch "LA Law" all the time, and I thought it would be
cool to be a lawyer. I loved to argue, what the hell. Seemed
like a great way to make money. (Though now I know better, being an actor who plays a lawyer would be much more fun!) Actually, I sort of identified with Benny from that series. I did
the same kind of work, and I, too, was a loner, though for differing reasons.
So I get to work just a little after noon; it was a Friday, and
that meant there was very little to do. Lawyers, like most businessmen were very eager to head home for the weekend, putting
off as much work as possible until Monday. There's this clapping sound when I get there, and I can hear people's voices, excited about something. Walking through the doors, I was surprised to see a party happening. Not a party with streamers and balloons and stuff, but a celebration.
"Hey, Josh. How's it going?" Michael was walking over to me.
He was a really nice guy. One of the head partners here. He
was in his early forties, though he looked younger. He and my
father played racquetball on Wednesdays, and it was he who helped secure me this job. "Looks like you got here just in time."
"What's going on?" I asked. After all, this doesn't happen
every day here. Sure, we have fun sometimes, but never this.
"We got ourselves a new associate. Young guy, just graduated
from Hofstra."
"Hofstra?"
"Yeah."
"Then what's he doing out here? There must've been a dozen law
firms in New York that would've hired him."
Michael gave me a look, not a puzzled look, or a surprised look,
but a look. "You know, you're starting to sound like a lawyer.
We gotta keep you away from here."
I turned in time to see Carilyn walking by. She gave me a polite nod, and I returned it with a small "Hi". She was what
people referred to as drop dead gorgeous! When I first started
at the firm, I used to think she was some ditzy airhead who got
the job because she let everyone screw her. But, after a while,
I knew that she had a brain, she did use it, and she didn't let
everyone screw her. After all, I was still a virgin.
"Sixteen years old, and he's ready to try cases." I turned back
to continue listening to Michael. "There's the new decoration
now." Quizzically, I turned my head.
There he was. The world's best looking guy. I had never really
thought about guys as being good looking or anything. I had
never done those things like jerking off with a friend in the
shed, or experimental touching. I had done nothing. But this
guy . . . even the straightest guy in the world knows when a guy
is good looking. He won't come out and say "Hey, look at him,
he's got good looks", but they know. And I knew. He was good
looking.
"Twenty-three years old. Can you believe that? He graduated a
year early in high school. Youngest associate. Probably be the
youngest partner, too." There was a hint of sarcasm in his
voice, as well as a touch of fear. But I really wasn't paying
attention.
There were people congratulating him, shaking his hand and
stuff, like he was some sort of hero. I was pretty relieved,
though. There would be even less work than usual today. I knew
I'd be bored, so I excused myself and walked over to the table
they had set up with food and drinks. I took a bottle of juice,
some sort of berry blend. It was healthy, and though you
wouldn't know it from the way I looked, I did eat and drink
healthy stuff. I had given up drinking soda, which was pretty
damn hard, especially for a kid. I took my juice and went to
sit down at one of the counters next to the message carts. I
kind of just sat there for a while, doing nothing but sipping my
drink. I liked doing that. Made you look older.
The party lasted for about a half hour, forty-five minutes after
that. Mr. Simon, he was the senior partner, announced early
closing for anyone who wanted to leave. It seemed that just
about every associate walked through those doors seconds after
Mr. Simon finished speaking the last words. The partners followed soon after. I was getting ready to leave, just saying a
couple of goodbyes to those I knew, when Mr. Simon approached
me.
"Mr. Stewart, could I see you in my office for a moment?" He
had never spoken to me since he first hired me. Never. Not
that he was unfriendly, but I was there for a few hours, five at
the most, a day, and not every day. He just didn't come across
me in the day to day situations. In fact, I'm sure that he must
have greeted me on occasion, though I don't remember. But now,
this. My face must have turned the palest shade of white, because that's exactly how I felt. I thought I was going to pass
out. And just because he asked to speak to me.
I walked quickly, but cautiously, into his office, as if there
was someone hiding to shoot me as I entered. "Have a seat, Mr.
Stewart," his hand outstretched toward a very comfortable
looking chair. "Thank you," I responded, and sat myself in the
chair.
"Now, Mr. Stewart --" It seemed to take forever for the words
to come out, syllables stretched on for minutes. It was if my
eyes were zooming in on his mouth, and my ears were hearing in
slow motion. "I know that I haven't taken the time to become
acquainted with you, or any of the other messengers in the firm
for that matter."
I was stunned. "That's all right," was all I was able to say.
It came out as a part stutter, and a part choke. The urge to
clear my throat remained.
"I'm sure that you have heard about our newest associate."
"Yes." There was nothing else for me to say. To Michael, I
would have said something witty, or adult, but to Mr. Simon, it
was just "Yes".
"He'll be starting on Monday, and he's going to need help getting around. He's not going to know how to send messages around, or where the rooms are, that sort of thing."
"Uh-huh." Boy, was I eloquent tonight!
"Well, I just want you to be sure that you help him if he needs
it. Remember, you'll know this place better than he will."
"Okay."
"Just be there if he gets stuck. That's all."
"I understand, Mr. Simon."
"Good." He nodded. "Michael tells me that you're hoping to
study law."
"I had thought about it." No commitment.
"That's good. Maybe someday, I'll be asking a messenger boy to
help you out this way too."
"I hope so."
"Well." It wasn't an introduction to a sentence, it was a sentence, a sort of "Okay, time to get out" sentence. I rose from the chair.
"Oh, and one other thing." Again, my heart froze. "Brad's
going to need some help moving his things into his office. I
have to be going, and since you're the only messenger left,
heck, you're probably the only one left, could you just give him
a quick hand carrying some boxes?"
"Oh, of course." My heart had thawed out.
"Great." He smiled, and picked up his briefcase, sliding it
halfway off the desk before lifting it. I turned, and began
walking out. "Have a good day, Mr. Stewart."
"Thank you. You too, sir." Again, he smiled, then sailed
around the corner and through the double glass doors that led to
the hallway, and freedom. I heard voices that I can only assume
were his and this Brad, for seconds later, he walked through the
doors.
"You must be Josh." His voice was bold, but not loud. In his
arms, he cradled a large cardboard box.
"Yes, I am. It's nice to meet you, Brad," and then quickly
correcting myself, embarrassed at my words, "I, mean, Mr. uh --"
"Brad's fine. That is my name." He was smiling, as I followed
him into his office. He placed the box down on the floor next
to a group of others resting under the solitary window. It
wasn't that bad of an office, a little small, but for a first
year associate, not bad at all. There was a desk on the left
side of the room, the window against the far wall, though not
that far from the end of the desk. There was room for two
chairs in front of the desk, but they weren't in there yet. And
a couch, a small one, was pushed against the right wall.
"Should I go get a box?"
"Nope, that was the last one." There was a pause as he surveyed
the room. "For now, anyway."
Great, I had no idea what to do then. After all, I was here to
help him carry his boxes and he was already done. But I just
couldn't walk out. "So, you went to Hofstra." It was more of a
statement than a question, since I already knew the answer.
"Yeah, I did." There was no accent to his voice. "Pretty good
school. I liked it a lot."
"I was thinking about going there."
"For law?" He had had his back to me, but now he turned.
"Yeah."
"It's a good school. You'll have fun. That's for sure." Yup,
now I knew what it meant to be bored. I was rocking on my heels
so much, I though I was going to make indentations in the
ground. He had sat down behind his desk, and was looking up at
me. I wonder if he knew how uncomfortable I felt. It was uncomfortable because I knew nothing to say to him. "So where's a good club around here?"
A good club!? What the hell was he asking me for? "I don't
know. I'm not old enough to get in."
"Yeah, but a fake i.d., and you're all set."
"It's kind of hard to get a fake i.d. when your'e sixteen." Not
that I had tried or anything; I wouldn't have known where to go.
"Sixteen? Jeez, I thought you were eighteen, at least."
'Yeah, right' I thought to myself. I get carded when I try getting into an R-rated movie. And he thinks I'm eighteen?
"So what do you do around here for fun?" He was really polite.
"Aah, go out with friends, go to the movies, shopping, play
tennis, whatever."
"You play tennis?" I nodded. "So do I. Maybe we could play
some time."
"Sure." There was another pause, a long one. I didn't know
what to say. It was like being alone, though you know someone's watching you. It was spooky.
"Everyone's gone, huh?"
"Yeah, cleared out of here when Mr. Simon said they could
leave." He was rising from behind the desk.
"Ususally get out so fast?"
"Naw, some of them stay real late, but never on Friday." He
nodded. He was still behind the desk, and I could see him
looking at me. "They like to get out as soon as they can."
"What about you?"
"Depends. If I'm needed, I stay."
"That's good. I'll have to remember that." He was out from the
desk now, and what he was doing totally surprised me. His hand
was moving around his crotching, fondling his dick and balls. I
couldn't believe it. I had played with myself once, but no one
was there, no one saw me. "I get so worked up after a hard day
at work, don't you?" He was standing almost directly in front of
me.
"Yeah." I managed to stammer. "Sometimes." I had no idea
what I was saying. And then I felt it. His hand moved from his
crotch to mine.
"Let's see if Josh is worked up today." I couldn't move. I
didn't know if I wanted to or not, but I was frozen. His hand
glided along my jeans, every so often closing in like a pinch.
"Looks like you're getting worked up now." His eyes were right
in front of me.
My lungs were taking in air like a drowning man -- the deeper I
inhaled, the less air I actually took in. I wasn't nervous. I
was scared. This wasn't something I had even thought would happen, not in my wildest dreams. Thoughts were racing through my
mind so fast, I thought I would die.
Then I noticed. He had moved away from me, and was standing at
the window, looking out at the skyline. He didn't move for the
longest time, though it was probably only a matter of seconds.
And then he turned, and faced me.
"I'm sorry, Josh. I should never have done that."
I didn't have a clue as to what to say.
"I promise; it'll never happen again." He stretched out his hand
in an apologetic move. As before, I had nothing to say. I just
stood there. But I had to say something. So I shook his hand.
"It's okay." That was dumb. Or was it? It hadn't felt that
bad, except for the incredible fear.
"It's just, well, I was on that flight for so long. And there
was all the packing before hand. And trips to the bank, the post
office, the dry cleaners. I've done so much in the last forty-eight hours, I wanted a break. But I shouldn't have done that to
you."
"So you do it with guys, huh?" I couldn't believe it. I was
really venturing here.
"Yeah. Young guys though. No one older than me." There was a
pause as he looked at me curiously. "How 'bout you? Ever do it
with a guy?"
I shook my head. "No." He nodded.
"I didn't think so. Well, hey, you should be running along. No
need for you to stay here. I'm all set."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll see you on Monday."
"Okay. See ya." I turned, and walked out of his office and down
the hall to the main room. I pushed the glass doors aside, and
stepped out into the hall, and toward the elevators.
Okay. I'm having an identity crisis.
I pushed the down button, and it lit up underneath my finger. I
could hear the wrenching sounds of the elevator cables jumping
into motion.
Oh boy, this is wrong.
Seconds later, the doors opened. A man in a dark blue blazer was
standing at the back of the compartment. I stood there, not
looking at him, but almost through him. "Are you coming or not?"
The man obviously wanted to go home. I flicked my wrist up, and
puleld the collar away. My watch read 3:38. "Ayah, forget it,"
he said, as he pushed a button, and the doors began to close.
I have plenty of time.
The <KA-CHUNK> of the elevator rang through my ears as I turned
and started off down the hallways, pushing my way through the
glass doors, turning the corner, and walking down the hall. His
office door was closed, and I thought he had left, but something
told me he hadn't, and something told me he would be happy to see
me back here.
This is it, Josh old-boy.
My hand reached for the doorknob, turned it quickly, and sent the
door open. Brad was laying on the couch, his pants down around
his knees, his hand wrapped around his cock, which was hard and
sticking straight up. Okay, maybe he wouldn't be that glad to
see me. He jumped up, almost falling off the couch, and quickly
pulled his pants up, managing to tuck in about half of his shirt
before he zipped the fly, and buttoned the button.
"Did you forget something, Josh?"
"No. I came back." Well, obviously I came back. He could see.
"What did you come back for?"
"To try it with another guy." Brad's face lit up like a christmas tree.
"I hope I didn't put any pressure on you."
"Well, you did. But it felt really good. I was scared, but it
felt good."
"Josh, I can show you things that will feel even better." He
came towards me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I decided to
take the iniative. I moved my face toward his, until my mouth
was pressed against his, my tongue slowly, but surely, making its
way into his mouth. It was so soft and warm. Our tongues came
together, and my head moved in rhythm. It was he who broke away.
Panting for breath, "Josh, I think I'm going to like working
here." He was serious, too. And so was I.
I lowered myself to my knees, and brought my hand up to his zipper, first unbuttoning the button that rested above it, and then
pulling the metal zipper down to the bottom. My hands reached
around his waist, pulling the tucked-in parts of his shirt out.
His pants fell to the ground, and I was looking at a very nice
pair of white Calvin Klein briefs that were partially covered by
the ends of his shirt. I brought my face in, and my tongue
darted across the soft cloth. Brad shifted position, but I knew
he was comfortable. My hands came up again, and took the tops of
his bikini briefs and slowly pulled them down the length of his
legs. I was level with his shins,and when I looked up, all I
could see was his cock hanging down.
Something was happening to me. I couldn't wait to have that cock
in my mouth. I wanted to suck it more than anything else ever.
And I did.
I lifted myself back up, and picked up his dick with my tongue,
carrying it into my mouth. It tasted so good; it was like
nothing I had ever tasted before. I began licking it, holding it
prisoner in my mouth. But before long, I couldn't keep it in.
It was growing, more and more. He was hard now, and boy was he
stacked. I knew that my cock was just under six inches, and I
knew that this one was bigger than that. I started sucking,
pushing my face in and out, back and forth, my tongue gliding
underneath his cock. Brad was going crazy. His hands were on
my head, holding me there. Like I was going anywhere!
I was sucking, as hard and as fast as I could. My right hand was
searching inside my pants, while my left hand held onto Brad's
balls, which hung like apples on a tree branch. Coming up for
breath, I moved onto his balls, taking the left one in first,
rolling it around my mouth, then taking the right one by itself,
doing the same to it. I got off my knees, and sat down instead.
His balls were hanging over me, and I looked up, and brought them
both into my mouth, chomping on them like a little kid. It was
driving Brad wild.
All of a sudden, I could feel vibrations, and I thought it was an
earthquake! But then, I felt wet. I looked up to see Brad's
cock shooting streams of cum in the air. It landed on my face in
plops. I let his balls go, as he crumpled to the couch.
"Josh," he was almost out of breath, "that was the best suck I've
ever gotten. You sure you've never done this before?"
"Positive," I said, smiling. "But I know it won't be the last
time."
"Sounds good to me. Now let's see what we can do for your cock."
Brad pulled me over, and unzipped my pants, pulling them and my
green bikini briefs down. I stepped out of them, and unbuttoned
my shirt, while he did the same. We were both naked, except for
the socks we wore. His were low cut, and white, totally plain.
Mine were white too, reaching up over my shin, and they had an
insignia in silver at the top.
Brad's hand came toward me, grasping my cock which had already
begun to get hard. His hand ran up and down, up and down the
length of my cock. Stroking, ever so slowly. It felt so great.
I closed my eyes, and my head leaned backward. Then my cock was
wet, filled tightly in Brad's mouth. His tongue was running over
my entire cock; his saliva was dripping out.
"Now, the other side." I didn't quite know what he meant, but he
turned me around, his hand running up and down my back. "Stand
on the couch, over me." I did. "Bend your legs a little, and
lean over some." I did that too. It was like a small prick as
his hot tongue touched my the corner of my ass hole. Then it
moved in, moving not in and out, but around, in a swirling motion. It was my turn to be driven crazy, and boy, was I. I had
never felt anything remotely like this -- I hadn't even thought
of anything like this.
"Oh, yeah." I was moaning. Really moaning, in delight. And why
shouldn't I? This was great. Nobody had ever told me that having sex with another guy would feel like this. If they had, I
would have lost my virginity sooner. But, I think this was a
great way to lose it.
"Ready for something else?" His voice was filled with excitement, echoing how my body felt.
"Sure." I was ready. I didn't know what for, but I was ready.
I trusted Brad, though I had only known him for less than an
hour. He had made me feel good so far, and apparently, I was
making him feel good too.
Brad got up off the couch, and walked over to his pile of boxes.
He bent over, and picked up a box, moving it aside. I walked
over to him and ran my hand over his ass. It wiggled, in delight, I assumed. He was digging through a box, finding what he was looking for -- a small plastic bottle, like a trial size of shampoo.
He said nothing, but his eyebrows arched up. He grabbed my cock
with his free hand and pulled me over to the couch. "Bend over,
buddy." I still wasn't quite sure, but I bent over, resting my
hands on the couch. I looked beneath my legs, and saw Brad
squirting some clear gel into his hand, which he then slicked
around his dick. The sounds of his hand sliding the length of
his long, and very hard, cock was exciting me immensely.
"Hold on." His hands moved to both sides of my waist, holding me
tightly. He had wiped the stuff off his hand, and his warm hands
were now holding me in place. "You're going to like this." His
hands gripped harder, as the tip of his cock met my asshole. It
just touched, and didn't penetrate. It was slippery, moving back
and forth on my ass cheeks. This went on for several seconds,
before he again pressed his cock head to my hole. His right hand
left my side, circling his cock, which he began pushing in my
ass.
It hurt! A lot. The head of his cock was stretching me inside.
I could feel it. My ass tightened around his cock, and he continued pushing, though to no avail.
"Loosen up, guy. I can't get it in there if you're that tight!"
I tried loosening up, but I couldn't. My ass wouldn't loosen.
He was too big for me; I wasn't too small for him.
"You gotta loosen up. Release your ass, like you're taking a
shit."
I pushed like I was taking a shit, and with one great push, he
had shoved his entire cock up my ass. I thought it hurt before,
but now, it was even worse! My entire ass was stretched to its
limit, or so I thought. Slowly, Brad began pulling it out, until it was almost withdrawn. My ass felt relieved, except, now I
wanted it back in! And as if he could read my mind, he pushed
his cock back in. This time, there was no pain. A little discomfort, but the pleasure more than made up for it. More than
made up for it.
Brad had replaced his hand on my waist, his fingers pushing in
towards my abdomen. He was pushing it in and out several times.
I folded my arms, lying them on the couch, resting my head on my
arms. I was face down, but my eyes could still see Brad shoving
his cock in and out. But then, he began moving me. Instead of
pushing and removing his cock, he began pulling me onto his cock,
and then off it again.
I thought I was going to explode. My cock was hard as a rock,
swollen, and ready to blow its top. I loved it. I loved having
his dick in me. But I wanted more. I wanted something else. I
wasn't sure what. "Brad, fuck me. Fuck me harder." I really
wanted it. Wanted it bad.
And I was getting it. Brad grabbed my sides so tightly, it hurt.
And his dick was pumping faster and deeper now. My mouth was
wide open, gaping in ecstasy. Brad's hand left my side, and came
down, smacking my left ass cheek. It stung, but it felt so good.
"Take it. Take my dick, man." He was pumping harder, his balls
slamming against my ass cheeks. "You like it up there, don't
you?" SMACK! This time my right cheek.
"Awwwwwww. Fuck me. Keep fucking me."
"Whatever you want, kid." To my surprise though, he withdrew
from me. Stepping over to the desk, his naked arm swept away
eveything from the top. A few sheets a paper remained, which he
brushed away with his hand. Then his hand moved to his cock,
jerking it. "Whatever you want."
I smiled, and jumped up from the couch. I walked over to the
desk, a little awkwardly. It was the like the time I rode a
horse for the first time. He was jerking his rod faster, the
the head of his cock swollen and red. His free hand patted the
desk, and I knew what he meant. I jumped up on the desk.
"Lay down."
I did as I was told. Laying on my back, my right hand moving
towards my dick, beginning to jerk in rhythm with Brad. His hand
continued on his cock, as he leaned over and began licking my
cock; not sucking, but licking, like a kid with his lollipop.
After a few licks, Brad straightened up. My legs had been hanging off the end of the desk, but now Brad lifted them up. His
hands moved downward, holding my feet. He pushed them up, so
that my feet were even with shoulders, and my asshole was spread
wide open.
"Take it, Josh. Let me shove it up your tight ass."
"Yeah."
It was then that I noticed how gorgeous his body was. He was a
little taller than I. He had dark brown hair, very dark. His
eyes were exactly opposite, a very light brown, but not quite
hazel. He had a very defined body. His chest was smooth with
little tufts of hair around his nipples which were hard and inviting. His body was sleek and tapered off in a "V" at his
waist, which was muscular. A cock, at least eight inches long,
sprouted out from a bush of dark pubic hair. His balls were big,
but not too large, hanging nicely under the dick. His legs were
slim, but muscular, with a little hair on each.
His dick was fucking the hell out of me. I was sliding on the
desk, back and forth. Thank God it was varnished, or else I
would either be splintered or friction burned. Anyway, I was
sliding on and off his cock, and loving every minute of it. He
was obviously having a good time, as well, from the look on his
face.
I could feel cum stirring in my balls. His constant slamming was
exciting me to orgasm, and finally, I shot my load all over myself. Spurts of cum landed all across my chest, some landed on
my chin, just narrowly missing my mouth, and the last shots made
it just over my pubic hair. There were droplets of cum oozing
down my nipples, and some were slipping down from my navel down
into my hair, and back to my cock.
Brad was amazed that I had come so soon. "Oh man, look at all
the cum. Even I can't shoot that much!"
Brad moved my feet to on top of his shoulders, then leaned over,
putting his hands by my sides. His tongue came out, pushing its
way into my mouth. Our tongues met, twisting around each other.
Our faces were mashed together, and I could feel my cock getting
larger once again.
Brad's lips let go of mine. He was still moving his cock in and
out, but it was much slower now, more relaxed. His right hand
lifted from the desk. Slowly, his fingers traced their way
across my chest, circling my nipples, and down to my navel. Up
and back down. Swirling the cum all around my body. I could do
nothing but sigh contentedly.
"How about some of this?" His finger lifted from my body, and
came up to my lips. My tongue darted out, licking my cum off his
finger. Then I sucked his figner deep into my mouth. That's
when the pumping increased. He was deep-dicking me once again.
And I was going strong on his finger. I had his dick up my ass,
and his finger in my mouth; I was totally naked, my cock was a
raging hard-on . . . and I never wanted this to end.
Then he pulled out again. "No, man. Keep fucking me."
Brad had a devilish smile played across his lips. "You want it,
its yours. Get up." I got up off the desk. Brad hopped up on
the desk with youthful exuberance, then stretched out, laying on
his back. I walked over to him, and grabbed his cock. I jerked
him off as he laid there, groaning and moaning. "Climb up here,
Josh. Ride me."
I needed no second invitation. I climbed up on the desk, my feet
planted just below his armpits. He grabbed my ass, as I lowered
it down on his cock. This was the best way yet! It filled me up
like it hadn't before. Brad started playing my tits, kneading
them, rolling them around. I was in ecstasy! I was bouncing up
and down on it. "Aww man, I can feel you in my stomach." It was
fantastic, like when I was back riding that horse.
Brad was breathing real heavily now. Moaning loudly, his thrusting became erratic. Coupled with my bobbing up and down, he was
going out of his mind. Suddenly, his moans turned to cries, and
a split second later, I felt a pressure hit me inside, then wetness. He was shooting his load right up my ass. I was still
bouncing and my somewhat flaccid dick sprang to life, spraying
Brad with cum.
We collapsed. I fell down on top of him, my face burying itself
in Brad's side. Gently, I licked his armpit. He was sweaty from
the workout, and I was glad to be a part of it. I lifted myself
up a little.
"That was magnificent." I leaned down and kissed his right
nipple, then his left, moving the hairs around.
"I've only done it twice before with a guy."
I was shocked. "Only twice?! You sure know what you like."
"So do you." He was smiling. "And I like that."
After a few minutes, we dressed (after a few more licks and
sucks) and got ready to go.
"I'll see you Monday, kid."
"Yeah," I said. "I can't wait."
"What time are you working?"
"I'll be here from ten to five."
"So you'll be getting a lunch?"
I nodded yes.
"Well, be sure to come by for some dessert." He was a mischievous one.
"No problem."
"And if you want, meet me in the library after five. Maybe we
can do this again."
"Sounds good to me." I gave him a quick kiss, and walked out the
doors, a very happy kid.
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