Cody Croquet - Blowjob From My Gay Friend 04: Find Out
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Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Blowjob From My Gay Friend
Chapter 4: Find Out
"What else happens in this massage?" I said, muffled into my arm.
"Find out."
He added a second finger into my ass.
He pulled back to the first knuckle and came in again with two, and the stretch stung first, a hot burning line all the way around the rim, and I locked up and pushed my forehead down into my own arm. Then it turned into something else. Wide pressure, deep, my nerves climbing up into my stomach.
More lube off the bottle by the pillow. I heard the cap and then felt it running cold over his knuckles and into me, and everything slid better after that.
He pumped them slowly and my hole gripped down and eased off, gripped and eased, doing it on its own with no input from me as he stretched me further. When he drew back, my hips followed him. My knees were up under me with my ass in the air and every time his hand pulled away my back arched and my hips pushed backward looking for it.
He was still kneeling beside my hip in his shorts. Bare chest, one hand working, patient about it.
Then a third finger came in. He got it up alongside the other two and pressed in slowly, taking his sweet time, and I felt every bit of that one. My mouth opened against my forearm and stayed open. He held all three of them buried and let me sit on it, and I could feel myself flexing around him, and my dick was mashed underneath me smearing precum across a stranger's comforter every time I rocked.
One new thing was my breathing. It had turned loud and wet, and my face was turned into my own arm, so it bounced right back off my skin into my ear at full volume. I started panting into a pillow like a girl doing amateur porn. I tried to hold it in my chest and it came out of my nose instead, worse.
My fists were closed in the comforter. It was white, and under that blacklight strip along the closet it glowed, so all I could see with my eyes half open was my own knuckles standing out purple-white in the dark.
"Breathe," Miles said.
That was all he said. He kept his pace exactly where it was. The bass came up through the floorboards. I could feel it in the frame of the bed.
Then he pulled his fingers out of me and my whole body dropped an inch and I heard myself say, out loud, "What are you doing."
It came out needy. I had turned into a guy whining about it being gone, and I heard all of that in my own voice.
He got off the bed. I stayed exactly where I was, up on my knees with my cheek on my arm, and turned my head enough to watch him over my shoulder.
He shoved his shorts and whatever was under them down in one motion and kicked them off, and that was the first time I actually looked at him with conscious intent. He had a wrestler's build, thick chest and stomach, broad neck and jaw, a thick pair of thighs. Everything on him was dark purple except his socks, and those glowed.
And his dick. It stood up off him fatter than mine, not short, with a heavy head on it, and he got the bottle and put a slow handful of lube over it while I watched him do it, and he watched me. He worked his fist down to the base and back, and he looked at me the entire time.
I was scared of it and I also wanted it. And I was harder than I had been at any point that night.
He got back on the bed behind me, put both hands on my hips, and hauled me back and up toward him, so my chest and one cheek stayed down on the comforter and my ass came up presented to him. My arms stayed folded under my head. I faced the wall.
One hand came off my hip to line himself up.
Then he pushed.
One slow, continuous push, and he did not stop and he did not ask how I was doing. But I think he already knew. He was reading my body through his cock and his hands. The head went past my rim and the sting was sharp enough that my whole back locked up and I grabbed two new handfuls of comforter.
He kept sinking into me deeper. The sting rolled out into pressure, and then fullness, this girthy force packing into me from underneath, and my mouth dropped open against my forearm.
And then he bottomed out flush against my ass, hips against my cheeks, his pubes touching my skin. I saw little white flashes at the edge of my vision. My eyes were closed and there were stars firing off.
He held the position. He put one palm flat on the top of my ass and let me take it, not moving at all, and I could feel him throbbing inside me.
Then he started moving, still slow, all the way out until only the head stayed in and all the way back in until his hips hit me again. He thrust slowly, in and out, massaging me from the inside. He was in no hurry.
I liked it more than anything that was ever on my list of what got me off. I thought about the fantasy of the girl in leggings bent over in the stacks, the girl on top of me, milking me, the spit-roast videos sharing a ho with ten other guys, the stuffed animal I humped back in the day that I still thought about sometimes, every item on the list got outranked in about a minute by a freshman I met twenty minutes prior. And I wasn't able to play it cool. I was making noise into my own arms the whole time, constant groans.
He sped up and my legs slid wider on the comforter and my dick swung underneath me with every stroke, my balls rubbing against the smooth bedding.
If anything I liked it too much. Nobody had touched my dick once since he pushed in, and I could feel a load building anyway, deep behind my balls, from nothing but his strokes dragging across that spot in me. A few more minutes at that pace and I was going to be cumming untouched into a stranger's comforter, and I didn't want it to end yet.
I kept picturing him from behind, those thick wrestler thighs, that deep valley I had felt pressed against my leg and still hadn't seen bare. I wanted to find out what he felt like from the inside. In my head I thought, in for a penny.
I slid my arm out from under my head and reached back. From where I was, face down with him behind me, all I could reach was the hand clamped on my hip, so I grabbed his wrist and peeled it off me, and pushed my chest up off the comforter.
"My turn," I said over my shoulder.
His hips slowed for a few strokes as his hands squeezed my hips and jiggled my ass. He lifted off me and his dick pulled out of me, giving me the first sensation of emptiness in my ass. He plopped down playfully onto his back on the comforter. I looked at him lying there, smiling up at me as he shifted his legs, and for some reason I hadn't pictured him on his back. I could see his whole dick and balls. As much as I had enjoyed his dick being inside me, I didn't picture fucking a guy face to face.
But I didn't flip him over.
"Fuck it," I said as I got up on my knees between his spread thighs, his legs opening wider to make room for me, and that was the first time all night the two of us were face to face. He grinned up at me. His teeth glowed. It seemed natural to him, and that made it more palatable to me.
"Okay," he said. "Let's see what you got, big guy."
He got the bottle himself and did his own work on his hole with one hand, reaching down between us, quick about it, and then he pulled his knees up and put his heels flat on the comforter.
I lined myself up quickly, and pushed.
I didn't know what tight meant until then. Even when I lost my virginity to a girl it hadn't been this much of a vice grip on my cock. His hole closed around the head first, a ring of grip so hard I stopped moving, and then as I sank it worked down the shaft in stages, gripping and letting off and gripping again like it had a mind of its own, hot on the whole length of me. Nothing had prepared me for it, girls included.
His stomach flexed under my palms.
I went slowly, feeling him accept me more and more, and then I found a rhythm, both hands planted on his chest, my fingers spread over his pecs, pushing my weight down into him while I worked my hips. He took it and he started to get loud about it, cursing at the ceiling, one hand gripping the comforter beside his head.
"That feels so good," he said up at me.
My rhythm sped up. It got sloppier.
"Touch me," I said between breaths, and he hesitated for a second before he reached up and held my body against him, twisting my nipple again and reaching back to jiggle my butt cheeks.
My breathing was signaling everything going on in my mind, same as it had five minutes earlier with my face in my own arm while I took his dick from behind, and I knew he could hear it too.
His hand came up off the mattress and took me by the jaw, fingers along one side, his thumb pressed between my lips and played with my tongue, and I sucked on it until he pulled me down onto his mouth.
Stubble caught stubble. Our teeth knocked once. His lips were already open and he took my tongue actively, sucking it out of my mouth. He pushed back into my mouth and my whole head stayed exactly where he wanted it, his hand guiding my jaw. No girl had ever kissed me with anything close to that much force behind it. I couldn't have pulled off him if I'd tried.
My hips stuttered and I lost the rhythm completely.
And it was the kiss that did it. I'd been inside a guy for a while by then and I was holding fine, and one mouth on my mouth took me right to the edge in seconds.
I buried deep and finished inside him with my mouth still mostly on his and his hand still clamped on my jaw. I counted the pulses as I pictured them coating his guts, behind the dick that bounced between our bodies, five long pulses, my hips jamming forward on each one, my knees digging into the comforter on either side of him.
And he finished at the same time, his hand holding tight at the head as he squirted up, painting both of us, hot across my abs and his, and it glowed blue-white under the black light.
I dropped onto my forearms over him while it was still coming out of him, and we stuck together at the stomach, slick and warm.
I pulled out and he made a low grunt as I did it, drawn out, and then we were side by side on a stranger's bed with the bass still coming up through the floorboards.
He reached down and got my shirt off the floor again, the same one he had already used once to clean the mess off my body, and he wiped his stomach and then mine with it, and handed it back. It was patchy with cold and warm spots, and I just dropped it on the floor, opting to go shirtless the rest of the night.
Post-nut clarity did not arrive this time. I noticed its absence. I had no immediate urge to leave.
Miles was dressed and ready first. He patted himself down after getting his clothes on, double checking his phone was in his pocket. At the door he stopped and looked back at me.
"That was hot as fuck," he said, and dipped out the door.
I was left sitting on the edge of a bed that wasn't mine.
····[]····
Downstairs the party had thinned out and the little shoebox speaker was still on full blast, probably in its last minutes of life.
Miles was back in his two square feet near the stairs, punching up into the air in front of his face, hair flat on one side and his shirt on straight, dancing with a girl again, while a gay guy I knew was attempting an approach on him from behind.
Kate found me by the couch with a drink in her hand. She looked at my shirtless form then back up at my face.
"I saw you disappear with the bi-con," she said.
"Yeah."
"And?"
"I guess I'm bi too."
Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Blowjob From My Gay Friend
Chapter 4: Find Out
"What else happens in this massage?" I said, muffled into my arm.
"Find out."
He added a second finger into my ass.
He pulled back to the first knuckle and came in again with two, and the stretch stung first, a hot burning line all the way around the rim, and I locked up and pushed my forehead down into my own arm. Then it turned into something else. Wide pressure, deep, my nerves climbing up into my stomach.
More lube off the bottle by the pillow. I heard the cap and then felt it running cold over his knuckles and into me, and everything slid better after that.
He pumped them slowly and my hole gripped down and eased off, gripped and eased, doing it on its own with no input from me as he stretched me further. When he drew back, my hips followed him. My knees were up under me with my ass in the air and every time his hand pulled away my back arched and my hips pushed backward looking for it.
He was still kneeling beside my hip in his shorts. Bare chest, one hand working, patient about it.
Then a third finger came in. He got it up alongside the other two and pressed in slowly, taking his sweet time, and I felt every bit of that one. My mouth opened against my forearm and stayed open. He held all three of them buried and let me sit on it, and I could feel myself flexing around him, and my dick was mashed underneath me smearing precum across a stranger's comforter every time I rocked.
One new thing was my breathing. It had turned loud and wet, and my face was turned into my own arm, so it bounced right back off my skin into my ear at full volume. I started panting into a pillow like a girl doing amateur porn. I tried to hold it in my chest and it came out of my nose instead, worse.
My fists were closed in the comforter. It was white, and under that blacklight strip along the closet it glowed, so all I could see with my eyes half open was my own knuckles standing out purple-white in the dark.
"Breathe," Miles said.
That was all he said. He kept his pace exactly where it was. The bass came up through the floorboards. I could feel it in the frame of the bed.
Then he pulled his fingers out of me and my whole body dropped an inch and I heard myself say, out loud, "What are you doing."
It came out needy. I had turned into a guy whining about it being gone, and I heard all of that in my own voice.
He got off the bed. I stayed exactly where I was, up on my knees with my cheek on my arm, and turned my head enough to watch him over my shoulder.
He shoved his shorts and whatever was under them down in one motion and kicked them off, and that was the first time I actually looked at him with conscious intent. He had a wrestler's build, thick chest and stomach, broad neck and jaw, a thick pair of thighs. Everything on him was dark purple except his socks, and those glowed.
And his dick. It stood up off him fatter than mine, not short, with a heavy head on it, and he got the bottle and put a slow handful of lube over it while I watched him do it, and he watched me. He worked his fist down to the base and back, and he looked at me the entire time.
I was scared of it and I also wanted it. And I was harder than I had been at any point that night.
He got back on the bed behind me, put both hands on my hips, and hauled me back and up toward him, so my chest and one cheek stayed down on the comforter and my ass came up presented to him. My arms stayed folded under my head. I faced the wall.
One hand came off my hip to line himself up.
Then he pushed.
One slow, continuous push, and he did not stop and he did not ask how I was doing. But I think he already knew. He was reading my body through his cock and his hands. The head went past my rim and the sting was sharp enough that my whole back locked up and I grabbed two new handfuls of comforter.
He kept sinking into me deeper. The sting rolled out into pressure, and then fullness, this girthy force packing into me from underneath, and my mouth dropped open against my forearm.
And then he bottomed out flush against my ass, hips against my cheeks, his pubes touching my skin. I saw little white flashes at the edge of my vision. My eyes were closed and there were stars firing off.
He held the position. He put one palm flat on the top of my ass and let me take it, not moving at all, and I could feel him throbbing inside me.
Then he started moving, still slow, all the way out until only the head stayed in and all the way back in until his hips hit me again. He thrust slowly, in and out, massaging me from the inside. He was in no hurry.
I liked it more than anything that was ever on my list of what got me off. I thought about the fantasy of the girl in leggings bent over in the stacks, the girl on top of me, milking me, the spit-roast videos sharing a ho with ten other guys, the stuffed animal I humped back in the day that I still thought about sometimes, every item on the list got outranked in about a minute by a freshman I met twenty minutes prior. And I wasn't able to play it cool. I was making noise into my own arms the whole time, constant groans.
He sped up and my legs slid wider on the comforter and my dick swung underneath me with every stroke, my balls rubbing against the smooth bedding.
If anything I liked it too much. Nobody had touched my dick once since he pushed in, and I could feel a load building anyway, deep behind my balls, from nothing but his strokes dragging across that spot in me. A few more minutes at that pace and I was going to be cumming untouched into a stranger's comforter, and I didn't want it to end yet.
I kept picturing him from behind, those thick wrestler thighs, that deep valley I had felt pressed against my leg and still hadn't seen bare. I wanted to find out what he felt like from the inside. In my head I thought, in for a penny.
I slid my arm out from under my head and reached back. From where I was, face down with him behind me, all I could reach was the hand clamped on my hip, so I grabbed his wrist and peeled it off me, and pushed my chest up off the comforter.
"My turn," I said over my shoulder.
His hips slowed for a few strokes as his hands squeezed my hips and jiggled my ass. He lifted off me and his dick pulled out of me, giving me the first sensation of emptiness in my ass. He plopped down playfully onto his back on the comforter. I looked at him lying there, smiling up at me as he shifted his legs, and for some reason I hadn't pictured him on his back. I could see his whole dick and balls. As much as I had enjoyed his dick being inside me, I didn't picture fucking a guy face to face.
But I didn't flip him over.
"Fuck it," I said as I got up on my knees between his spread thighs, his legs opening wider to make room for me, and that was the first time all night the two of us were face to face. He grinned up at me. His teeth glowed. It seemed natural to him, and that made it more palatable to me.
"Okay," he said. "Let's see what you got, big guy."
He got the bottle himself and did his own work on his hole with one hand, reaching down between us, quick about it, and then he pulled his knees up and put his heels flat on the comforter.
I lined myself up quickly, and pushed.
I didn't know what tight meant until then. Even when I lost my virginity to a girl it hadn't been this much of a vice grip on my cock. His hole closed around the head first, a ring of grip so hard I stopped moving, and then as I sank it worked down the shaft in stages, gripping and letting off and gripping again like it had a mind of its own, hot on the whole length of me. Nothing had prepared me for it, girls included.
His stomach flexed under my palms.
I went slowly, feeling him accept me more and more, and then I found a rhythm, both hands planted on his chest, my fingers spread over his pecs, pushing my weight down into him while I worked my hips. He took it and he started to get loud about it, cursing at the ceiling, one hand gripping the comforter beside his head.
"That feels so good," he said up at me.
My rhythm sped up. It got sloppier.
"Touch me," I said between breaths, and he hesitated for a second before he reached up and held my body against him, twisting my nipple again and reaching back to jiggle my butt cheeks.
My breathing was signaling everything going on in my mind, same as it had five minutes earlier with my face in my own arm while I took his dick from behind, and I knew he could hear it too.
His hand came up off the mattress and took me by the jaw, fingers along one side, his thumb pressed between my lips and played with my tongue, and I sucked on it until he pulled me down onto his mouth.
Stubble caught stubble. Our teeth knocked once. His lips were already open and he took my tongue actively, sucking it out of my mouth. He pushed back into my mouth and my whole head stayed exactly where he wanted it, his hand guiding my jaw. No girl had ever kissed me with anything close to that much force behind it. I couldn't have pulled off him if I'd tried.
My hips stuttered and I lost the rhythm completely.
And it was the kiss that did it. I'd been inside a guy for a while by then and I was holding fine, and one mouth on my mouth took me right to the edge in seconds.
I buried deep and finished inside him with my mouth still mostly on his and his hand still clamped on my jaw. I counted the pulses as I pictured them coating his guts, behind the dick that bounced between our bodies, five long pulses, my hips jamming forward on each one, my knees digging into the comforter on either side of him.
And he finished at the same time, his hand holding tight at the head as he squirted up, painting both of us, hot across my abs and his, and it glowed blue-white under the black light.
I dropped onto my forearms over him while it was still coming out of him, and we stuck together at the stomach, slick and warm.
I pulled out and he made a low grunt as I did it, drawn out, and then we were side by side on a stranger's bed with the bass still coming up through the floorboards.
He reached down and got my shirt off the floor again, the same one he had already used once to clean the mess off my body, and he wiped his stomach and then mine with it, and handed it back. It was patchy with cold and warm spots, and I just dropped it on the floor, opting to go shirtless the rest of the night.
Post-nut clarity did not arrive this time. I noticed its absence. I had no immediate urge to leave.
Miles was dressed and ready first. He patted himself down after getting his clothes on, double checking his phone was in his pocket. At the door he stopped and looked back at me.
"That was hot as fuck," he said, and dipped out the door.
I was left sitting on the edge of a bed that wasn't mine.
····[]····
Downstairs the party had thinned out and the little shoebox speaker was still on full blast, probably in its last minutes of life.
Miles was back in his two square feet near the stairs, punching up into the air in front of his face, hair flat on one side and his shirt on straight, dancing with a girl again, while a gay guy I knew was attempting an approach on him from behind.
Kate found me by the couch with a drink in her hand. She looked at my shirtless form then back up at my face.
"I saw you disappear with the bi-con," she said.
"Yeah."
"And?"
"I guess I'm bi too."
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