By:
Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels
"Suck my dick, Shawn!"
"Why don't you kiss my ass, Billy!"
It had always been that way
between Billy and me, goading one another on with sexual taunts. There was
always a slightly dirty edge to our bantering - on my part at least. I really
would've liked for him to kiss my ass, though not in the pejorative way I said
it. And as for wanting to suck his dick...
Billy's parents had moved to the
neighborhood when we were both in Junior high. We rode the bus together and
quickly became friends. Billy had a swaggering, out-going personality that complimented
his staggeringly gorgeous looks.
Billy's hair was the blackest I
ever saw, and his eyes were dark and brooding, with a stabbing quality,
self-assured.
On the afternoon of the mock
insults I just quoted, his parents had gone to the cottage for the weekend and
we were alone in his house. The verbal exchange was brought about by an argument
over who was the better football team, the New York Giants or the New York Jets.
We were also kind of buzzed on beer, which fuelled the insults further.
We weren't old enough to drink,
but Billy's dad let him have beer, and we had already downed three each and
there was no more left. Billy said that his friend's older brother would buy
some for us, and he offered to go over and ask and go with the older brother to
get us another six-pack.
After Billy left, I went over and
looked at the family pictures that were scattered around his living room. In one
photo of him, he was in his football uniform, and it had me drooling in
seconds. Though I knew that basket showing at his crotch was mostly all cup, it
still bulged enticingly. And his jersey didn't quite cover his flat belly,
where I could see the deep V of his groin begin.
I knew he'd be gone at least
twenty minutes since we lived pretty far out in the suburbs, so I went up to Billy's
bedroom to see if I could find his cup. His room had a good man-smell to it,
some sort of musky cologne and a faint odor of sweat. It felt erotic to be in the
place where my sexy best friend slept, no doubt jacked off, and stood naked, perhaps
admiring himself in that full-length mirror on the wall.
I went to Billy's dresser and
opened one of the top two drawers. Seeing his white Calvin's folded and piled
so neatly did nothing to get my mind off the subject. Opening the drawer next to
it, about a dozen jockstraps were strewn inside, but no cups. I grabbed one of
his jocks and put the pouch over my face and deeply inhaled. But,
unfortunately, they smelled clean and freshly laundered.
But that gave me an idea…
I opened the closet, and, sure
enough, there were Billy's dirty clothes. I found a few piss stains on one of
his dirty pair of underwear and what looked like cum on one of his jockstraps.
The aroma of man-sweat was intoxicating.
I had been aware of my jock
fetish for some time now, ever since I first discovered their existence and had
bought my first one. Standing there fondling and caressing the stud's underwear
and jocks got me hotter than hell. I decided I had to have a quick jack-off
session. It was risky, but I figured I'd have plenty of time to do it before
Billy returned.
So, I stood in front of the
full-length mirror and opened my shirt, shoved my jeans and underwear to my
ankles, and grasped my soft but stiffening cock. I pre-cum a lot when I get
horny, and right then the clear stuff was oozing out of my dick like a dripping
faucet. I smeared the juicy liquid all over my cockhead. Then I held the
cum-stained jock to my nose and inhaled deeply, smelling the masculine odor
that remained.
As I breathed heavily through the
thin material, I got one of the most intense hard-ons I had ever experienced. I
got hard-ons all the time, nothing unusual about that for a guy my age, but
this was like an explosion of blood to my crotch, an immediate and intensely
gratifying sensation as my dick throbbed in my fist.
I bowed my legs a little and
rubbed the entrancing jock up under my balls, and up and down the length of my
stiffened dick. I sheathed my rod in the soft, white fabric of the pouch and
stroked my meat through it. Then I kicked off my shoes, shucked my clothes completely,
and put Billy's jock on. My balls nestled into the dirty pouch where his had
been, my cock so hard it jutted out the elastic waistband.
I pushed the pouch of Billy's jock
to just below my balls, and the pressure from the elastic drove my package up
against my heaving stomach. I stood sideways to the mirror, punched out my
hips, and pumped my meat in slow strokes, watching myself beat off.
I jacked my cock like a
sex-starved maniac and very quickly felt the ecstatic tremors of a powerful
orgasm cresting. I punched my hips out even farther and pumped even harder on
my meat. As I gasped hoarsely, cum started streaming out of my cock in ropy
strands, arching and spurting in thick, milky gushes. Throwing back my head, I squeezed
my eyes shut and groaned so loudly that the neighbors must have heard me.
"Feel good, Shawn?!" I heard Billy exclaim, followed by a giggle.