Weekends with Bob
As in every story I have ever written, there is some, if not a lot, of autobiographical information included. It can’t be helped. It is my life experiences that drive the stories in my mind.
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As near as I can place it, I started meeting at Bob’s house in 1962. I had turned eighteen in January and he was a year older. It had become a usual thing for me to arrive at his house at 7 pm on a Saturday evening. The idea was that we would watch movies or whatever we found interesting on the television. At least that what we told anyone who might ask.
In his house, a large rancher, there was a den at one end of the house separated from the bedrooms at the other end of the house by the kitchen and an expansive living room. His mother understood the need for young men to have their privacy, and didn’t mind us shutting the doors that led to the den. It was a way of completely isolating our noise from the rest of the household, which consisted of his mother and an older s****r who was usually away at college in Boston. When I would arrive I made nice to Bob’s mother asking after her health or some such thing. Bob and I were provided with enough snacks to satisfy two growing young men while we spent out time watching television until some wee hour of the morning.
At least, that is the way we started out with our weekends. The television was our entertainment and quite often was the last sounds we would hear when we fell asl**p. It was often the case that it was the sounds of the white noise that was the only thing left on the tube. This was a time when the television stations signed off at somewhere between midnight and 2 AM.
Things changed, for the better I must admit one evening when Bob discovered what I really wanted to do when I was there. I had discovered the dirty clothes hamper in the bathroom, and with a little rooting around in there found to my joy of joys, his s****r’s dirty panties. It soon became almost a ritual for me to excuse myself and head for the bathroom after his mother had gone to bed. I’d dig through the hamper to retrieve the dirtiest pair of his s****r’s panties. I’d rub them all over my cock and my balls until I had a huge erection. Then I would place those panties over my face or sometime I’d stuff them into my mouth, while I quickly jerked off. It took only seconds before I would shoot my load. The sublime aroma and taste of those panties always gave me a huge erection and a huge cum load. Most of the time I would cum in my hand and them lick it all off. Wonderful stuff that cum.
Then one evening,Bob had opened the bathroom door trying to surprise me while I was taking a piss. Only to discover me sitting on the toilet with a pair of his s****r’s panties press against my face as I stroked my cock. I knew for sure that he was going to be angry with me. But the expression on his face quickly put that thought out of my mind. He smiled and said, “So, you’ve discovered the joys of my s****r’s panties. Don’t let me stop you.”
His sudden appearance at the door was certainly surprising, but it didn’t appear to hurt the condition my cock had attained. I had been close to shooting my load when he had stuck his head in the door. I took his words as being his approval of my deed. As he watched, I quickly shot my cum load onto the tile floor. There were three or four spurts that landed about two feet in front of me.
“You just got going to leave that there,” he asked. “I think you need to clean that up.”
I was hoping that he would say just that, because, in the next instant I was on my knees licking my cum up off the tile floor. I had gotten into the habit of doing this at home, and loved the taste of my own spent cum. That night, while the television was droning away, he asked me if I would jerk him off. I could not think of a thing to say, but reacted quickly by reaching across and releasing his already stiff hard cock from his pajama bottoms. His cock was a bit longer than mine, his measuring at about seven-inches, while mine was only about six-inches. (We know this because we actually measured them.) As I said his cock is a bit longer than mine, but his is not as thick as mine is. Still, this was the first cock, other than my own, that I had felt in my hand. It was hard and at the same time a bit soft. I could feel the veins that ran beneath the surface of his cock. They were sort of knobby feeling and I found it exciting. My own cock had become hard again as I stoked his hard member. Soon, his head was craning back and his hips were pumping away, trying to fuck my hands, which I now had both of them warped around his cock. A low moan escaped his lips as his mouth gaped open at the same time his cock erupted with a gusher of cum that would have made any boy proud. He must have shot at least six or seven spurts of hot cum that flew up to his chest and onto his face. Then there were another four or five short spurts that covered my hands, his pubic hair and his balls. I had never seen so much cum come out of anyone. It made we envious of the quality of cum hie could put out in comparison to my measly amount. This is despite the fact that my own cum load is quite significant quantity-wise.
The television turned out to be just a blind to cover the noises of what we were really there. And there was a lot going on.
We spent these weekend discovering the joys of man-man sex. It was also when I was able to develop further my love for female underwear.
For several weeks, we were satisfied with mutual masturbation. The loads of cum being absorbed by a couple of hand towels. But, I wasn’t satisfied with just jerking each other off. I wanted more. I wanted to have Bob’s cock in my mouth and I wanted to have him shoot his load down my throat. I desperately needed to taste his cum.
When we had settled down for a session of mutual masturbation, instead of immediately reaching for his cock, I turned towards him and took his cock into my mouth. His reaction, at first, was to push me away, but that quickly passed as his hips began humping away forcing his cock deep into my mouth and down my throat. It was everything I could do to keep from gagging and throwing up on his balls. Somehow, I managed to get control of my gag reflex and began to really enjoy the feeling and the taste of his cock fucking my mouth. He managed to continue driving his cock in and out of my throat for three or four minutes. Then, I could feel his cock quiver and his asshole began to spasm as he f***ed me to take his entire cock and shove it as far in as he could while his cum shot down my throat. I don’t know how many surfs of cum he gave me, but when he slowing began pulling his cock out, he was continuing to cum, and my mouth was filled with the flavor of his wonderful cum.
I was out of breath, and could hardly believe what I had done. To my great surprise, I had also shot my cum load, a hands-free ejaculation that had soaked my pajama bottoms and was oozing out onto the sheet.
Bob was lying there, his eyes closed. He had this weird grin on his face. After a full minute had passed, he opened his eyes looking at me while he grabbed my by the neck and pulled my face towards him. He kiss me full on the mouth, and then said, “You are one fucking good cocksucker!”
I couldn’t be more please with such praise. I had wanted to suck his cock for almost forever, it seemed. Now I had done it. I was a cocksucker, and adored the new title of COCKSUCKER.
This was only the beginning of our relationship. We continued to have our weekends for the next couple of years. That probably means I sucked his cock and downed his cum load at least 100 times. What a glorious start to my life of being a cocksucker. But, being a cocksucker,wasn’t all our weekend were. It soon became obvious to me that I wanted even more. Bob had begun to finger my asshole as I sucked his cock. It was exciting to me, and I found I had another erogenous zone, my asshole. It didn’t take me long before I found that I desperately wanted Bob to shove his big cock up my asshole and fuck my man-cunt.
At this same time I discovered the pleasures I could generate within myself by opening up my asshole with my well lubricated fingers. It was only a matter of three months before I could easily work in three fingers and massage my prostate. This is when I discovered the pleasure of feeling the juices being massaged out of me. They had a sweet taste of cum without having to ejaculate. Once I was able to comfortably open up my asshole did I figure I was ready to take on Bob’s cock.
But, it wasn’t that easy. I was afraid that Bob would reject my desire for him to fuck me. It took another three weekends of cocksucking to go by before I found the courage to take Bob’s cock up my ass.
I had been sucking his cock as usual when I felt his finger begin to probe my asshole. At that point I said the obvious, “I want you to fuck my ass.” All I got in return was a simple nod of acceptance. I reached into my overnight bag which lay on the floor next to me. I rummaged around until I found the jar of petroleum jelly I had brought with me. I dug out a large dab of the the jelly and f***ed it up my asshole, and rubbed the residue on my fingers on to Bob’s cock. I straddled his waist, and guided the head of his cock into my anus. Slowly I lowered myself onto his cock. I didn’t feel much resistance to the new pole in my asshole. I was soon sitting full onto his cock, buried completely inside my ass. I raised myself up a bit and the ecstasy of his cock rubbing against my prostate set an electric shiver through my body. I’m sure Bob felt me rising up and he began to rock his hips up and down stroking his cock in and out of my ass. As the head of his cock rubbed across my prostate, I couldn’t help but moan with the sensations being generated in my asshole.
Bob f***e me up and over onto my back, his cock still buried in my ass. He didn’t miss a stroke as we finally got into the missionary position with my legs wrapped around his back. He continued to fuck me for another five or six minutes when I felt his tempo increase, his cock expanded slightly and I felt his hot semen spurting into my rectum.
He lunged into me one final time coming to rest with his cock buried deep inside me. He lay that way for several minutes until his cock began to shrivel and then fall out of my boy-cunt. I could feel his cum load dripping down the crack of my ass. I took his face in my hands and kiss him deep, my tongue sliding past his lips and beginning its dance with his own tongue. When all was said and done, all I could mutter was a simple, thank you.
Bob and I continued our weekend get togethers for another six more months. Sometimes he fucked me and sometimes he just wanted me to suck his cock. In all that time, Bob never sucked my cock nor wanted me to fuck him. It was a fine relationship as far as I was concerned.
It all ended the summer after we graduated from the local community college. He went off to a full university to get his BS and I went off to the Navy. I never had the opportunity to suck Bob’s cock again. That didn’t mean that I wasn’t a cocksucker. I found myself in front of a wonderful array of cocks, but then, that’s another story.
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