The passion, the possibilities.
I can still remember my very first experience. I remember everything about it, the thrill of it. Very young and lying next to a sleeping friend, all I could think about was his cock just a few feet away. I knew I was cock curious. I knew that the thought of touching it, sucking it turned me on. Nothing made my young cock harder.
Slowly, nervously, as if in slow motion, I held my breath and tugged down his pajama bottoms. I lightly ran my finger tips across the now exposed head of his cock and down the underside of his still covered shaft. A rush of desire and pure lust, touching would not be enough. As nervous as I was and still in such fear of waking him, I moved my mouth to him. The feeling of his soft, yet firm flesh on my lips. I loved it. I knew then that if he had wanted me to, I would have sucked his fat cock until he came in my eager mouth.
Later that night, I laid there only feet away from him and stroked myself to multiple orgasms. I even tasted my own cum and ran the silky fluid across my lips, just wishing it was his. In the morning, my young cock was raw and chaffed.
So many years later, those first time feelings came flooding back.
A much younger guy, in fact, decades younger was the spark. A spark, a sparkle in his eyes the first time we were introduced. So much can be conveyed in a look. A quick glance, a glimmer of what thoughts and intentions may be just beneath the surface, even if I didn’t catch them right away. They were there. The day was spent uneventful, and working outside. That afternoon, dirty and covered in sweat, for him to ask to grab a quick shower seemed natural. Even when he called from the bathroom and asked for a towel, I did not give it a second thought. I opened the door, fully expecting to just place the towel on the counter with him behind the shower curtain.
That shower curtain quickly slid open. He stood before me nude and dripping. Without thinking, my eyes were drawn to his hanging cock. I couldn’t help it, but tried not to look again as it swung side to side as he stepped closer and thanked me for the towel. I felt light headed and quickly left. My mind raced, my pulse quickened. Still however, it could have been innocent. But why then, did I feel as though I was back in my friend’s bedroom, nervous and trembling.
He dressed and then said his ride home was here. I went to the door. I was about to open it for him, when I felt his hand on my arm. A lingering touch, his fingers slowly, I have to think sensually, slid down to my hand. He stood close and didn’t move. I could only stand there frozen as well. He moved even closer, his eyes down, then quickly kissed me on the lips. Opening the door, he said, “See you soon” without looking at me and left. I felt an explosion of sexual energy. My senses heightened, brain tingling rushes of passion, of possibility, shot through me.
Lying in bed that night, that touch, that cock was all I thought about. Oh, to feel his young cock on my lips, to run my hands over his tight, firm ass. To taste him, to feel his hard cock deep in my mouth. To feel his warm, wet youthful desire to swallow my cock as well. I threw the covers off of me and laid on my back, completely naked. I squeezed my aching dick and caressed my own balls. So much lust and hunger. I imagined him licking my nipples. I tightly touched them, flicked them with my thumbs. My cock now throbbed and bounced of my stomach. I needed to cum, I needed, so very much desired to make his cock cum. To feel his body, to have his hands feel mine. Gripping my hard cock at the base, I stroked myself. My mind filled with thoughts of slowly, lustfully licking his balls. Licking his shaft, around his cock’s head and then that incredible sensation of cock sliding in and out of my throat.
Soon thick, white streams of cum landed on my stomach and chest. Oh, it felt so good, such a release of pent up, cock lust... I only wished it was his cum that was covering me instead.
I continued to lay there, lost in fantasy. Just like so many decades earlier, I ran my finger tips through my cum and brought them to my lips.
To be continued...
Slowly, nervously, as if in slow motion, I held my breath and tugged down his pajama bottoms. I lightly ran my finger tips across the now exposed head of his cock and down the underside of his still covered shaft. A rush of desire and pure lust, touching would not be enough. As nervous as I was and still in such fear of waking him, I moved my mouth to him. The feeling of his soft, yet firm flesh on my lips. I loved it. I knew then that if he had wanted me to, I would have sucked his fat cock until he came in my eager mouth.
Later that night, I laid there only feet away from him and stroked myself to multiple orgasms. I even tasted my own cum and ran the silky fluid across my lips, just wishing it was his. In the morning, my young cock was raw and chaffed.
So many years later, those first time feelings came flooding back.
A much younger guy, in fact, decades younger was the spark. A spark, a sparkle in his eyes the first time we were introduced. So much can be conveyed in a look. A quick glance, a glimmer of what thoughts and intentions may be just beneath the surface, even if I didn’t catch them right away. They were there. The day was spent uneventful, and working outside. That afternoon, dirty and covered in sweat, for him to ask to grab a quick shower seemed natural. Even when he called from the bathroom and asked for a towel, I did not give it a second thought. I opened the door, fully expecting to just place the towel on the counter with him behind the shower curtain.
That shower curtain quickly slid open. He stood before me nude and dripping. Without thinking, my eyes were drawn to his hanging cock. I couldn’t help it, but tried not to look again as it swung side to side as he stepped closer and thanked me for the towel. I felt light headed and quickly left. My mind raced, my pulse quickened. Still however, it could have been innocent. But why then, did I feel as though I was back in my friend’s bedroom, nervous and trembling.
He dressed and then said his ride home was here. I went to the door. I was about to open it for him, when I felt his hand on my arm. A lingering touch, his fingers slowly, I have to think sensually, slid down to my hand. He stood close and didn’t move. I could only stand there frozen as well. He moved even closer, his eyes down, then quickly kissed me on the lips. Opening the door, he said, “See you soon” without looking at me and left. I felt an explosion of sexual energy. My senses heightened, brain tingling rushes of passion, of possibility, shot through me.
Lying in bed that night, that touch, that cock was all I thought about. Oh, to feel his young cock on my lips, to run my hands over his tight, firm ass. To taste him, to feel his hard cock deep in my mouth. To feel his warm, wet youthful desire to swallow my cock as well. I threw the covers off of me and laid on my back, completely naked. I squeezed my aching dick and caressed my own balls. So much lust and hunger. I imagined him licking my nipples. I tightly touched them, flicked them with my thumbs. My cock now throbbed and bounced of my stomach. I needed to cum, I needed, so very much desired to make his cock cum. To feel his body, to have his hands feel mine. Gripping my hard cock at the base, I stroked myself. My mind filled with thoughts of slowly, lustfully licking his balls. Licking his shaft, around his cock’s head and then that incredible sensation of cock sliding in and out of my throat.
Soon thick, white streams of cum landed on my stomach and chest. Oh, it felt so good, such a release of pent up, cock lust... I only wished it was his cum that was covering me instead.
I continued to lay there, lost in fantasy. Just like so many decades earlier, I ran my finger tips through my cum and brought them to my lips.
To be continued...
3 years ago
danke erstmal für Diese hier, der nächste Fav für mich
