I want to suck cock. I’ve known that for years, maybe I’ve always known that. I was recently reminded of that in the past year when I was lucky enough to have run into a master of the trade. All I can say is Thank You, Ma’am.
I’ve tried, a couple of times. The first time I was fifteen. The situation wasn’t what I thought it was and I narrowly escaped. The second time I was older. We met at a social event, something after work. I had noticed him, wondered a little. He caught me by surprise as I moved through the crowded bar. I felt a poke in the side, I turned and he kissed me. I puked in his mouth.
You see, the trouble is, cocks always come attached to men. And I’ve never met a man I could do all that talking and kissing and pawing with to get there. Maybe I’m expecting the wrong thing, not having done that.
In my dream I am on my knees, a pair of dress slacks stands in front of me. Sometimes I can look up enough to see a shirt. I can never see above the chest, something always obscures the face. There’s a thin black leather belt, I feel time in slow motion as I undo it, pull it from the loops. He turns around and I secure his wrists behind his back with the belt. I won’t have any interference.
I use both hands for the hook catch on the waistband. I fold the two halves apart neatly, and a slight tug encourages the zipper to slip. A small push is all that’s required for the slacks to fall. The white boxers fit loose. They are always white, sometimes with a print. They show the suggestion of anticipation taking hold.
I take it as encouragement that the cock wants to be sucked. I free it from the confines by pulling the waistband out and snapping it back below the base. I have no interest in the balls, only the cock.
I want to rub it against my cheek, feel it, smell it while it’s still partially soft. It twitches as my fingers wrap around it. I can feel it growing under my touch. I like that. I take a better hold and squeeze. It likes that too. The dark complex scent thickens, but doesn’t dissuade me from wanting to taste it.
Four fingertips encase the cock in a cage. Fingertips only, my lightest touch. They slide up and down the shaft irresistibly slowly. I know it’s having the intended effect when the hips thrust against me. I open my mouth, lick my lips, and lean forward…