Fantasy #1 (my alter ego)
“Let me get comfortable. OK, come over here. Oh, such full jeans, you’re packing a lot in there.”
I stroke my fingers across the rough cool material, tracing the outline of your penis, skipping lightly over your scrotum.
“Now, let’s see, what do we have in here? Oh, I just love the sound of a descending zipper!”
I unbuckle your belt and pop open your your jeans. The soft white cotton of your expensive briefs flashes tantalisingly before the curtain of your shirt tails drop and obscures my view. You lift your shirt, briefly exposing the outline of your impressive cock as it strains against the pristine Lycra of your designer underwear. You’re unbuttoning your shirt now, holding my gaze as you slowly pop one button after another.
“Looks expensive,” I observe, “Turnbull & Asser?”
Your £300 shirt falls to the ground. My jaw follows it. You are ripped! A model, or an athlete? Judging by the impressive thighs, I would guess you were a professional football player.
“Oh, my.”
Broad shoulders, chiselled pecs, biceps to die for and a waxed smooth washboard you could play a tune on. A star who likes to slum it in public toilets for gratis mouth sex? How very banal. Such a hackneyed cliché.
“So smooth, so tanned. Oh, you do work out, don’t you?”
I pull aside the rough cotton, working the indigo fabric over the muscular domes of your glutes and then down your powerful thighs. You look magnificent with your jeans tangled about your knees. A licentious grin splits my lips, flashing my teeth up at you as I marvel at the sculpted bulge between your legs. My stare draws a response from your genitals and gradually your penis begins to stiffen against the immaculate white Lycra of your underwear.
“New pants?”
I lean forwards and plant some kisses on your cock through the veil of your briefs and wait for it to grow. I don’t have to wait long. I inhale and exhale deeply, burying my face between your legs, my hot breath spilling out over your crotch.
“They smell new.”
My excitement mounts as your penis responds more quickly, swelling and growing, as I coax out your erection. My heart is racing as your semi boner bulges and stretches the pristine white cotton. I trace the outline of your cock, first with my tongue and then, sitting back on my heels, with my finger. With the lightest of touches, and a ‘where do you think you’re going’ expression, you guide my mouth firmly back towards your genitals.
“Be a pity to make a mess in them.”
I bight down on the broad flat waistband and pull it away from your tummy. With my thumbs hooked under the elastic at your hips, I pull down your underpants, with teeth and trembling fingers, all the way down to your knees. Your semi erect cock unfurls, unrolling like a carpet, or a flag catching in the wind.
“Oh, my goodness! Such a big boy. Such a lot of cock!”
Again the gentle guiding hand encourages my mouth towards your penis.
“Talk a lot, don’t you?”
“It’s the nerves; you’re so very quiet.”
“I can help with that. Open your mouth, bitch.”
“Ooh, so masterful.”
“Shut the fuck up and suck it.”
You hold your penis in one hand and my head in the other. Slowly, you bring them together, like a struck match to a waiting candle, and in spite of our grotty surroundings, something beautiful happens. The world is a better place with a cock in your mouth, everyone just looks so much better when they’re smoking a meat cigar. As your penis slips over my lips and into my mouth, I take out my phone and snap another perfect selfie. And then I sucked your cock.
Now, do you really need to know all the hot gooey details of what happened next? Kind of obvious, right? I mean, ejaculation following intense oral stimulation of the glans is not exactly the stuff of a mystery thriller, hardly a page turner, am I right? Of course I am. However, now I come to think on it, their orgasm can sometimes arrive as quite the surprise. Actually, it’s more of a shock than a surprise. I mean, obviously, you know that they’re going to cum eventually, they have to, it’s how the cock works, and there are certain primers to let you know that sperm is on the way. Their cock swells, the fuck juices are in full spate, especially just before climax, and their breathing changes, along with the way they’re trying to thrust into you. Nevertheless, sometimes, they just seem to pop! Right in your mouth, no warning. It can be fun, but it can also ruin a perfectly good blowjob. That’s why, k**s, you should always let the cocksucker know when they’ve fulfilled their purpose. Nothing to be ashamed of, just let them know you’re cumming. They probably already know. If they’re experienced, they’ll almost certainly know, but spare a thought for the novice. After all, we all had to start sometime. Maybe your cock is the first to part their lips? Anyway, just a polite tap tap tap on the glory hole wall, or a gentle nudge on the top of their head (essential if you’re partial to facials), is all that’s needed, anything to allow them to prepare and brace themselves, particularly if you haven’t unloaded for a while, or you’re a naturally heavy cummer. It’s not too much to ask, is it? Especially considering the service so recently rendered. On the other hand, maybe the thought of making them gag on your spunk turns you on? Just be aware of who owns the teeth in this situation. We only ever really pretend to be submissive and servile. It’s all a game, it’ all in the mind.
Oh, alright then, it’s also in the mouth. And sometimes in the windpipe. Quite often on my face, too. Love to make that popping noise, you know? Like you used to do with your fingers, as a k**? Sliding a finger into your mouth, and then popping the side of your cheek. It’s much more fun with a nice hard cock, but not as easy as you might think!
You know, I used to think that I always used the cubicle in the Gents because I was a shy boy who preferred the privacy afforded by having a door which he could lock. However, as the years rolled by I noticed that, the first thing I was looking for upon sliding the bolt home was that waist high hole in the partition wall with it’s mute promise of cock fun. And the next thing I scanned for? The contact numbers! I have a special burner phone which I use to arrange meets for mouth sex, can’t be to careful.
My first experience with another man’s cock happened quite by accident, before I had even admitted to myself that I hungered for cum. I had just unzipped when I noticed the wad of white toilet paper wedged in the wall had fallen to the floor tiles. It’s quite sweet to think I used to believe that hole was there so other men could just watch you! Anyway, I just knew that when that first chubby penis dislodged that scrunched up toilet paper and poked through the hole in the wall, I knew I would simply have to touch it, and after all, who was to know? There is nothing is more anonymous than a disembodied cock peeping through a hole in a wall. And no-one was looking, were they? Who really cares if two consenting men explore their faggot sexual urges in the privacy of a public toilet? How could I deny the response of my own penis at the prospect of touching his, that the sight of his cock was making mine stiffen in my jeans? And it did truly feel so very nice, all so very exciting. I’m not sure if his cock was as impressive in the moment as it is upon reflection in my mind’s eye, but I do remember knowing in my soul that I was going to have to touch it, just give it a gentle stroke. I’ve always loved to watch a penis grow and rise, like an inflatable toy. And then I began to wonder, what kind of shape his bell end had, what colour was it, and finally, what did it tastes like?
God help me but I’ve sucked off so very many men. So many cocks gobbled and noshed and throated. I’ve loved blowing countless anonymous men, all ages, shapes and sizes, some entirely nude, others with just their shafts available to me. I’ve sucked on my knees, in the passenger seats of cars, once on the back of a bus and once at a crowded cock party where an exuberant circle jerk disintegrated deliciously into a boisterous blow bang. I’ve sucked a ton of cock in busy public toilets where the invigorating perfume of man musk mingles with the stink of piss and the dirt of strangers. One of my earliest blowjobs was given at a lonely bus stop to the thrilling accompaniment of the raucous honks of the occasional passing motorists. And now, I’ve just sucked this man off, him of the ripped body and expensive tailoring and scent.
I think I need help. I just can’t keep myself from giving head, I just can’t help it, I live for fellatio. Even when I don’t have one between my lips, the thought of throating someone is never far from my mind. Is this normal? I’d make an appointment with my Doctor, but I’m afraid I’d try to go down on him too! Seriously cute, newly qualified. What should I do?
I stroke my fingers across the rough cool material, tracing the outline of your penis, skipping lightly over your scrotum.
“Now, let’s see, what do we have in here? Oh, I just love the sound of a descending zipper!”
I unbuckle your belt and pop open your your jeans. The soft white cotton of your expensive briefs flashes tantalisingly before the curtain of your shirt tails drop and obscures my view. You lift your shirt, briefly exposing the outline of your impressive cock as it strains against the pristine Lycra of your designer underwear. You’re unbuttoning your shirt now, holding my gaze as you slowly pop one button after another.
“Looks expensive,” I observe, “Turnbull & Asser?”
Your £300 shirt falls to the ground. My jaw follows it. You are ripped! A model, or an athlete? Judging by the impressive thighs, I would guess you were a professional football player.
“Oh, my.”
Broad shoulders, chiselled pecs, biceps to die for and a waxed smooth washboard you could play a tune on. A star who likes to slum it in public toilets for gratis mouth sex? How very banal. Such a hackneyed cliché.
“So smooth, so tanned. Oh, you do work out, don’t you?”
I pull aside the rough cotton, working the indigo fabric over the muscular domes of your glutes and then down your powerful thighs. You look magnificent with your jeans tangled about your knees. A licentious grin splits my lips, flashing my teeth up at you as I marvel at the sculpted bulge between your legs. My stare draws a response from your genitals and gradually your penis begins to stiffen against the immaculate white Lycra of your underwear.
“New pants?”
I lean forwards and plant some kisses on your cock through the veil of your briefs and wait for it to grow. I don’t have to wait long. I inhale and exhale deeply, burying my face between your legs, my hot breath spilling out over your crotch.
“They smell new.”
My excitement mounts as your penis responds more quickly, swelling and growing, as I coax out your erection. My heart is racing as your semi boner bulges and stretches the pristine white cotton. I trace the outline of your cock, first with my tongue and then, sitting back on my heels, with my finger. With the lightest of touches, and a ‘where do you think you’re going’ expression, you guide my mouth firmly back towards your genitals.
“Be a pity to make a mess in them.”
I bight down on the broad flat waistband and pull it away from your tummy. With my thumbs hooked under the elastic at your hips, I pull down your underpants, with teeth and trembling fingers, all the way down to your knees. Your semi erect cock unfurls, unrolling like a carpet, or a flag catching in the wind.
“Oh, my goodness! Such a big boy. Such a lot of cock!”
Again the gentle guiding hand encourages my mouth towards your penis.
“Talk a lot, don’t you?”
“It’s the nerves; you’re so very quiet.”
“I can help with that. Open your mouth, bitch.”
“Ooh, so masterful.”
“Shut the fuck up and suck it.”
You hold your penis in one hand and my head in the other. Slowly, you bring them together, like a struck match to a waiting candle, and in spite of our grotty surroundings, something beautiful happens. The world is a better place with a cock in your mouth, everyone just looks so much better when they’re smoking a meat cigar. As your penis slips over my lips and into my mouth, I take out my phone and snap another perfect selfie. And then I sucked your cock.
Now, do you really need to know all the hot gooey details of what happened next? Kind of obvious, right? I mean, ejaculation following intense oral stimulation of the glans is not exactly the stuff of a mystery thriller, hardly a page turner, am I right? Of course I am. However, now I come to think on it, their orgasm can sometimes arrive as quite the surprise. Actually, it’s more of a shock than a surprise. I mean, obviously, you know that they’re going to cum eventually, they have to, it’s how the cock works, and there are certain primers to let you know that sperm is on the way. Their cock swells, the fuck juices are in full spate, especially just before climax, and their breathing changes, along with the way they’re trying to thrust into you. Nevertheless, sometimes, they just seem to pop! Right in your mouth, no warning. It can be fun, but it can also ruin a perfectly good blowjob. That’s why, k**s, you should always let the cocksucker know when they’ve fulfilled their purpose. Nothing to be ashamed of, just let them know you’re cumming. They probably already know. If they’re experienced, they’ll almost certainly know, but spare a thought for the novice. After all, we all had to start sometime. Maybe your cock is the first to part their lips? Anyway, just a polite tap tap tap on the glory hole wall, or a gentle nudge on the top of their head (essential if you’re partial to facials), is all that’s needed, anything to allow them to prepare and brace themselves, particularly if you haven’t unloaded for a while, or you’re a naturally heavy cummer. It’s not too much to ask, is it? Especially considering the service so recently rendered. On the other hand, maybe the thought of making them gag on your spunk turns you on? Just be aware of who owns the teeth in this situation. We only ever really pretend to be submissive and servile. It’s all a game, it’ all in the mind.
Oh, alright then, it’s also in the mouth. And sometimes in the windpipe. Quite often on my face, too. Love to make that popping noise, you know? Like you used to do with your fingers, as a k**? Sliding a finger into your mouth, and then popping the side of your cheek. It’s much more fun with a nice hard cock, but not as easy as you might think!
You know, I used to think that I always used the cubicle in the Gents because I was a shy boy who preferred the privacy afforded by having a door which he could lock. However, as the years rolled by I noticed that, the first thing I was looking for upon sliding the bolt home was that waist high hole in the partition wall with it’s mute promise of cock fun. And the next thing I scanned for? The contact numbers! I have a special burner phone which I use to arrange meets for mouth sex, can’t be to careful.
My first experience with another man’s cock happened quite by accident, before I had even admitted to myself that I hungered for cum. I had just unzipped when I noticed the wad of white toilet paper wedged in the wall had fallen to the floor tiles. It’s quite sweet to think I used to believe that hole was there so other men could just watch you! Anyway, I just knew that when that first chubby penis dislodged that scrunched up toilet paper and poked through the hole in the wall, I knew I would simply have to touch it, and after all, who was to know? There is nothing is more anonymous than a disembodied cock peeping through a hole in a wall. And no-one was looking, were they? Who really cares if two consenting men explore their faggot sexual urges in the privacy of a public toilet? How could I deny the response of my own penis at the prospect of touching his, that the sight of his cock was making mine stiffen in my jeans? And it did truly feel so very nice, all so very exciting. I’m not sure if his cock was as impressive in the moment as it is upon reflection in my mind’s eye, but I do remember knowing in my soul that I was going to have to touch it, just give it a gentle stroke. I’ve always loved to watch a penis grow and rise, like an inflatable toy. And then I began to wonder, what kind of shape his bell end had, what colour was it, and finally, what did it tastes like?
God help me but I’ve sucked off so very many men. So many cocks gobbled and noshed and throated. I’ve loved blowing countless anonymous men, all ages, shapes and sizes, some entirely nude, others with just their shafts available to me. I’ve sucked on my knees, in the passenger seats of cars, once on the back of a bus and once at a crowded cock party where an exuberant circle jerk disintegrated deliciously into a boisterous blow bang. I’ve sucked a ton of cock in busy public toilets where the invigorating perfume of man musk mingles with the stink of piss and the dirt of strangers. One of my earliest blowjobs was given at a lonely bus stop to the thrilling accompaniment of the raucous honks of the occasional passing motorists. And now, I’ve just sucked this man off, him of the ripped body and expensive tailoring and scent.
I think I need help. I just can’t keep myself from giving head, I just can’t help it, I live for fellatio. Even when I don’t have one between my lips, the thought of throating someone is never far from my mind. Is this normal? I’d make an appointment with my Doctor, but I’m afraid I’d try to go down on him too! Seriously cute, newly qualified. What should I do?
1 年 前