Gay Erotic Stories

It was the first time I saw the building. It was huge, even from the side entrance; the facade was almost entirely glass and steel and would look completely impersonal, if not for the huge colourful banners that decorated the interior. I stepped in and craned my neck upwards and took it all in. This was my new school.

And it was the first day of my orientation camp, meeting new people, making new friends. God, I really hated these things, but I supposed it is necessary. I just didn’t want to be that new kid who was still socially awkward when school started. By then, everyone had to have some friends, or if I wanted to be cynical, some click that they has mutually and unanimously initiated themselves to. But as I took in a deep breath, I just told myself, that that all came later, and I had to first survive the week.

I registered, got my gift pack, or what I would like to call, my survival pack, and was ushered into an open space on the grassy courtyard. Apparently, the seniors who planned the camp had more than expected me for the moment I was registered; I was slapped with a yellow collared buff. The yellow clan, it seems, and that was where I was led to as I made my way to my group of "new" friends.

There were 10 of us in the group, all of them nice. A little shy and I suppose I would be the worst of them all. I chatted and smiled easily enough, but I just can’t help feeling it was all a bit contrived. And I don’t blame anyone but myself. I had plenty of chances to make friends, was in a lot of clubs in my past schools, the latest being rugby and the debate team. I’m not sure why but it just takes me a long time to feel close to people, even so, I could mimic most of the routines that was vital to the social game. I wasn’t physically awkward, and I would like to think that I was not physically unattractive either. I wasn’t the best looking guy around, but the rugby helped a little bit; added some leanness to my 6ft tall frame. And I had the good genes of my parents, good smooth skin, my dad's ready smile and my mom's friendly eyes. Even then, I was still a little bit self conscious, it is one thing being tall, but another being a beefy tall guy. It is a little imposing to others, and many times, just based on outer appearance, some would even regard me as a meathead. I countered that by wearing glasses and dressing less like a jock. I guess that is the root of my awkwardness, I just didn’t liked being judged. Most people don’t either, so maybe more accurately, I didn’t like what people thought of me after they were done judging.

I broke away from the group for a while; the chatter was already getting stale. Forced smiles, and necessary enthusiasm was already a tiny bit grating. So I turned my head, to the other 8 or so groups seated on the lawn. I didn’t really realised, but I guess I started checking out some of the guys. A few nice looking ones, typically athletic types, tanned and lean, and they knew it, because while the most of us were in Bermuda shorts and t-shirts, they were togged in running shorts and razorback singlet, showing off rippled backs, slim waists and powerful thighs. Not that I was complaining, but even then, their over confidence and machismo, garnered after surveying all the other supposedly inferior new male freshmen. A brisk little social sweep and these guys always were the better looking ones. Heck, maybe they didn’t even need to check anymore. From the way some of them swaggered, tossed back their hair or just sat there, being watched and dare I say, quietly inspected by the likes of me, it was because they were simply good looking. And they knew it.

I was almost done scanning the batch of freshmen when I chanced upon this guy. Apparently he just arrived; he looked nervous, but instantly relieved when he saw that he wasn’t late. He had a gift pack and a bag, like the most of us, and was quietly looking around, only engaging in the chatter of the usher beside him with a periodic nod and glance. There was something about this guy. This kid, rather. I instantly knew I liked him. He was a little funny looking, big eyes behind his metal rimmed glasses. But a nice strong chin and jaw line, and right above that, the reddest lips I’ve seen on a boy. They were full and shiny, almost unreal, next to his pale skin. His ears were the cutest thing though, they stuck out from his head, and were endearingly big. It gave him a slightly dopey look, and coupled with those big eyes, the impression that he was much younger than the age of most of the new freshmen.

He sat down across from my group. I immediately shifted myself over to the right to get a better view around a snobbish girl decked out in pink. She was squeaking about something or rather, her hair, shoes or luggage. All pink, but whatever it was, it was all cheap and ugly; a facade to impress unto others and mostly herself that she was “cute”. Even though I can’t put her on mute, I could still use her as a cover as I looked at the new guy. She could at least be useful, if not quiet. The new guy wore a white t shirt. And oddly enough one of those running shorts in black. Maybe it meant that he was a little bit of an athlete? His thighs were smaller than mine; it is rare finding thighs larger than a rugby player's. They were like loaves of bread, and I hated mine. His thighs however were lean and toned; his leg hair was fine but more than sparse. It covered his muscular thighs and calves, and as he crossed and lifted them to his chest and slung his arms around his knees to get comfortable on the grass, I saw the dark fur blanketing the back of his legs as well. It disappeared into the crevice created by his thighs as they pressed into themselves, and if only those shorts were skimpier, I would be able to completely view his package. Already I could see the white lining of his briefs as they peeked out of the shorts in an attempt to cover his firm swells of his butt.

Moving up to his arms, I noticed the same fur reappearing. They were not as thick, but still noticeable. They did nothing however, to hide the strong sinews of muscles in his forearms that were pressed up over his knees. He also had good biceps, rooted onto strong straight shoulders. He was looking more and more attractive the more I looked at him. But the best was yet to come. Those deep red lips parted and danced as he chatted, and eventually crested out into one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen on a guy. It looked slightly goofy, the smile, but its intensity and warmth lit up his face, changing completely the detachedness he portrayed when he was with the usher. And he smiled a lot too, with dimples, no less. And that was when I really realised why he was so attractive to me, and most probably only to me. He had an easy confidence, despite his unconventional looks. As he chatted with a girl on his left, he let out an audible laugh. It was carefree and boyish, 5 minutes into the group and he was already laughing. Oh, and making the girl laugh too. There was just something to this guy. I instantly knew I had to get to know him.

While I was really quite sure of my intent, the ways for me to actually execute them was more than challenging. I was in group 8, yellow clan, and he was in group 1, blue clan. There was always, at least 4 clans in between us. In the games that we played the first and second days, I kept wishing our groups would cross paths somehow, but it didn’t. I could only watch him from afar. The one thing we both had in common however was that we were both the flag bearers for our groups, and funnily enough, that became the first thing I looked out for. The blue flag, and holding it up, the cutest guy in the camp. At least I thought so.

The challenges were tough, but fun. And it did do a lot in terms of lowering each of our guards. Not just me and him, but all of us. After each round of quiz or race, we would cheer for ourselves or other clans. While we would previously and subconsciously adhere to the personal space of our mates before, now we would put arms over shoulders, easily teasing and hanging ourselves over each other like we were old friends. Things were going well, and I could really feel myself making genuine connections with these people.

In fact, I think it was during one of those games that I first noticed that he had noticed me. I was cheering for one of our members, and as he made it across the finishing line, the whole clan erupted in joyful shouts and claps. As I did that, I turned around to see which group came in second, undoubtedly with a stupid grin on my face, and then I saw him. I didn’t know how his group did, didn’t really care. I still had that stupid grin, as our eyes locked. And it remained locked for several seconds before I noticed one of those cute smiles spreading across his face. I looked away immediately, damn this shyness. Why did I have to look away? But when I lifted my head back up, and looked again, he was still looking--this time, beaming. That smile was on, and it was directed straight at me.

The next few days, we made eyes at each other whenever we could. Every time the clans would assemble, I would be at the front, lifting the flag high to let the group know where to gather. I would also be lying if I said that was the only reason. I wanted him to know where I was, and over the days, he would respond too. It was no surprise, out of all the clans in the camp; ours was always the first to gather and settle down. Both of us were doing such good jobs at being flag bearers, ha-ha.

Progress was good, but I still had no chance to know him. The only thing I did know was his name. Gerald. My chance finally came the third to last night of the camp. And I almost lost it too, no thanks to my shyness.

That night was the one where they played Fright Night. It was kind of silly, but already a few girls were blubbering when they announced that some freshmen had gone missing, for no reason, and the clans were splitting up in groups to look for them. There were a couple of shrieks when the lights went off directly after that briefing. I didn’t care, I liked scary stuff, while some of the girls were whimpering, the pink snobby girl especially, I had a smile plastered to my face. This was going to be fun! I had no idea.

I was paired with two other freshmen; a girl and a guy. And during one of the Fright walks, I was taken away to do a challenge. I was told I had some time to complete it, and if I couldn’t I would be detained, or eaten or killed by a monster or something. I kind of laughed but as I was finally faced with the task, there were no longer any smiles or laughs. The room that they led me too, was genuinely scary. It was one of the many huge art rooms with high ceilings and in the darkness, I could not even tell where the ceiling ended and the gloom began. I had to search for a murder weapon, evidently to free the 'ghost' that was haunting the room. That was the storyline. But as much as I tried, I could not find anything in that dark room. All I had was a light stick, and I had almost about lost my nerve, when I heard a shuffling few metres ahead of me. It had to be one of the seniors, but damn it, why was he in here? To scare me?

I knew I had to go look for it, maybe he had this stupid clue thing. I made my way over and in the dark, my outstretched arms finally closed around a twisting torso. The clammy torso wriggled, and resisted, shoved itself straight into me, I nearly lost my light stick, and as I grabbed lower to steady myself, I adjusted my grip on the body. My hands were still on its thigh, when I retrieved my stick and brought it up to the person. In the unnatural green light, our eyes finally met and then I recognised it. It was Gerald. He was gagged, had cloth over his mouth, and his singlet was plastered to his body, in sweat. With the light stick over us, I scanned down and saw his hands were also bounded. on the restraints was a little tag, "murdered in art room". And as I read that, he continued to wriggle, his thigh was throbbing and pulsing. I looked lower and realised it was not his thigh that I had my hands on, it was his crotch. And as I felt around it, I realised why he was wriggling away, he was actually trying to conceal a hardon. His shorts were visibly tented out, and my palm was only centimetres away from the crest of the tent. Through the fabric of the shorts, I could visibly make out the huge mushroom head, slightly smashed against the cloth. I finally removed my hand from his lower abdomen, noticing how firm it was. No wonder I thought it was his thigh. It really felt like a thigh to me.

Clamping the light stick between my teeth, I proceeded to untie his gag. His glasses were gone, and in the dimness, I actually saw that his eyes were quite nice as well. Large, tinged with sparse but dark, dark lashes. But all the while, he had a look in those eyes. It was accusing, and sharp even in the dim light. When he finally felt the knot at the back of his head come loose, the bounded hands came up, along with that stupid tag, and snatched the gag off, pushing my hand away. I swallowed a thick gulp of saliva; he looked really, really angry and humiliated. I stood there with the light stick between my teeth, not knowing what to do, when he lunged forward, grabbed my chin with his tied hands. I saw his eyes closing, swiftly and then in the next instance, those beautiful lips. Only now I wasn’t seeing them, I actually felt them, on my own.

They were warm, and so soft. They caressed mine, massaged them gently, lubricated by his sweat and saliva. Ever so often, I would feel them part and from within, his tongue would flick out, tasting my lips. It explored slowly but passionately, I couldn’t breathe, rather, wouldn’t breathe, fearing if I did, he would stop. I finally relaxed and within minutes I was kissing him back, and doing what I usually liked to do, sucking gently on the bottom lip, kissing the chin, sides of the mouth, before going right back in kissing deeply. We stood like that for minutes, before I had the idea to pull out the light stick out of my mouth. Tried to do it covertly, but unfortunately it broke the kiss. The light stick was now lowered in my right hand. Our faces were completely thrown in darkness, I could smell the slightly spicy scent of his breath, and I didn’t realise it, but we had gotten so close, our chests were pressed right against each other. In the vastness of the dark, we were plunged into each other, breathing deeply but calmly. It seems we have also found a rhythm, as he exhaled, I drew in a breath, we just stood there, drinking in each other's muskiness, our lips probably only a few hairs apart, but not because I could see or feel it, but because I could sense its tingling numbness matching my own.

He drew in a breath larger than his last and whispered, "Wow. I give that kiss 'glowing' marks, 10 upon 10." I started to smile at the light stick joke, as he went in for a quick peck which took me by surprise. I dropped the light stick, suddenly I can’t feel my hand, I must have been clutching it so tight. We both squatted down to get the stick, and in the green gloom, once again I spotted his tented shorts.

Only this time, there was a wet spot, right where I imagined the tiny pursed lips of his cock were. I eyed his package, swallowed noisily, still a little bit out of breath. He saw it, and with his bounded hands he grabbed my right, and pressed it against his hard package. He sucked in a breath, and in the darkness, I felt once again his lips, this time on my jaw line. There were so hot this time, almost feverish, and they kissed my face, travelling up to nibble on my earlobe. I moaned and sucked in my own breath, enjoying the warm rush, every flick of his tongue gave as it teased my lobes. His hands was over mine, guiding it, moulding it and mine, over the erect width of his cock. He moved it up and down, and I could feel in its entirety that it was thick. Even through the shorts and his briefs, I could feel the rounded knob of his cockhead, and the pronounced veins along his cock.

My own cock was straining against my shorts. I looked down and could see that it too was bulging out. Unlike most guys, I placed my cock pointing downwards, given its size. There had been plenty of incidents in my youth where it got hard pointing up, where it was more than obvious that I had a hardon. So my cock was literally trapped, while his tented up and out, free to extend itself, mine was doubled into itself. My cock was not yet fully erect, it was too constricting, but I could already feel my cockhead pulsing behind my balls, right at the sensitive area between my balls and my anus. I looked down and it was an extreme bulge cut into the dimness. His tied hands came upon it, and he cupped my entire package, exhaling, “Wah, curved like a ripe banana.” Already in the dark, I could imagine his face, plastered with a mischievous smile on those infamous lips.

Only then did I realise that his hands over mine already came loose, I did not need any guidance petting his cock anymore it seems. I could feel the whole width of it, and when he clenched, it would jerk out against its restraints. The sticky wetness of his precum had soaked through both his shorts and briefs, and even though it was filthy, I could not resist giving my fingers a quick lick. It tasted salty, but tinged with sweetness. This prospect filled my insides with pleasure, they actually quivered, I felt like I was going over a speed bump or a steep hill. There was a real rush, psychological no doubt, from the notion that I just tasted him. Not just his lips, but the lubricant milked out from his cock.

I was savouring the taste on my lips, when I felt his lips on my collarbones. He hiked my t-shirt up, and instantly his lips were on my nipples. He suckered them lightly, teasing the teat, and just when I got over the pleasure of that, he brought on his whole tongue on it, lashing wildly and wetly. It was like an animal, a separate being, vigorously flicking my nipple. I gasped for breath, out of shock, out of pleasure, out of joy.

With his tongue, he assaulted my right nipple, and with his hands, the left. It was unlike any sensation I ever felt before, I would usually see in gay porn guys playing with their own nipples and tried doing the same, although never really getting it. In the times that I was horny enough to visit gay chat rooms, the anonymous guys with ludicrous chat nicks would ask if I enjoyed playing or giving pleasure to my nipples, I never understood the fuss until now. Gerald gave each teat the exact amount of pressure and surface contact, I’m sorry it sounds so scientific, but in this case, less truly is more, and with every swift flick of his tongue or finger, even the tiniest brush, sent acute licks of pleasure to my senses. I really wished he would do it forever. And he was getting into it too, kissing and licking it like an animal, making soft slurping noises, and at times, joining my gasps of pleasure with his low moans. It was almost as if he was getting as much pleasure getting me off, and seeing him at work like that, just completely charmed me, even in the midst of everything.

By the time Gerald decided to stop I could finally a good valid breath of air, and when I glanced downwards, I could see my whole chest glistening, either with his saliva, my sweat, or maybe both. Topped at the mound of pectoral muscle, was my nipple, erect like I’ve never seen it before. It stood out like a little soldier, two soldiers in fact, standing armed, and even when Gerald teased with a quick swift tongue flick to the right-side man, both of those tiny hard nips remained pumped, even as I quivered in reaction. It was so sensitive.

I was leaning back to what felt like a waist high cupboard, I didn’t realise it but my whole back was on it. I raised my upper body off it, to stand straight as Gerald made quick work out of undressing. I wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, that anyone could come in at any minute, but then I saw his body as he took his top off. It was dark, but it was enough to highlight his sweaty abs and chest. His own nipples were small, and light coloured and the pecs was not as formed as mine, but the cutting and definition of both his abs, chest , shoulders and neck was beautiful. Looking at him, at all of him, I finally realised a twisted white figure standing behind him, to his left. I spat out, Fuck, who is that, before thrusting the light stick towards both Gerald and the figure. I was about to go mental, was it a senior, was it an actual ghost, what was it, and what was it doing there, when I saw that it was actually a statue. Male, and muscular and naked, it looked Greek, probably the one of many model statues used for drawing lessons. It was twisted, its frozen torso turned away from me, exposing the chiselled white buttocks. Damn, wish I had an ass like that.

“You didn’t know it was there? It was thanks to him that I was standing here with a semi hardon. I was tied and gagged, and some more got hot statue of some Greek god inches from me, I actually thought he came alive or something, but it turned out to be you...” I could feel my eyebrows jerk upwards. Wow, he was blunt, huh. I felt a little tiny bit hurt, until he added, “Thankfully, it turned out to be you. Cute flag bearer from group 8. Tons better than white concrete man, or that guy Joe in group 3. He gives me the creeps, hee.”

By the time I picked myself up somewhat, he was fully nude, except for his flip-flops. His cock was still erect even after the brief unintended break. It jutted from his slim lean frame like those flagpoles hung out from the sides of buildings. I could see a line, like spider web, glistening in the dimness, and it took me awhile to realise that he was actually leaking precum. It dribbled from the pouty tip in rivulets, taking its time to collect and fall to the ground. What a waste. He saw me eyeing it once again; I guess my face was priceless at this point, for he laughed slightly. I looked up and he met my gaze. His hands, still bounded, went down, one finger out and circled, scooping up the fresh dribble of precum. Holding my gaze with those big boyish eyes, he brought them to his lips. Upon touching the clear liquid, his lips curled inwards and his eyebrows peaked to the middle. He smacked his lips; his expression was that of ecstasy. It was like he just tasted the first drip of honey after a season of famine.

I left my station, suddenly erect and went to him. Grabbing the back of his neck, I pushed his face into mine. His fingers came up again, with new viscosity, and both of us lapped it up. I kissed him deeply, enjoying the sweetness of both his breath and precum. It was heaven.

We were deep-kissing, until I felt like I was almost about ready to pass out. For the first time, Gerald looked like he was too. We were both gasping, face smeared with stickiness. I hugged him; I really did not want this to end. My head was on his shoulder and his on mine. I stood there kissing his neck and muscular shoulders, when I felt his bounded hands dart to his crotch and then jostle its way between my legs. By that point, he had been naked for what seemed like ages, and I was still dressed. My t-shirt was hiked up, tucked behind my head, exposing my chest, but my shorts were still on. I could feel his fingers searching for my ass-bud, nestled and hidden underneath the layers of fabric. I arched my back, and puckered out my ass, allowing him some access. He found it, quickly enough, in the deep cleft between my cheeks and massaged it inwards. It seems he was an expert at anal stimulation, man!

His hands were still bounded together and between my legs. Gerald himself was standing with his legs apart, his face on my chest, alternately kissing it and licking my abs. I was essentially riding both his arms astride, and when he periodically, pulled himself away from my chest to look up, I saw past his face the engorged and dangling cock between his legs, dribbling that everlasting line of clear honey precum. The veins were really popped out, the head was round and full like shiny glossy mushroom and even though he kept steadying himself in the position, resulting in his parts jangling and dangling, it throbbed with a regular rhythm. I have never had the urge to actually put a man’s penis in my mouth, but at the point, I wanted to take it all in, balls and all, if possible, and just taste everything and milking it for what it’s worth. It was the most beautiful dick I have ever seen, strong, vigorous and so ready.

I guess he finally got sick of my shyness and reluctance to get naked, and proceeded to just take off my shorts himself. He hooked his bounded hands into the elastic waistband and tried to shimmy it down. Looking up, he said, “Some help, please?” I didn’t really know what to do. My shyness kicked back in, even after everything. I can’t even tell if he was looking at me or not, but I could feel his eyes and it was torment. I helped him undo his hands, and when I finished half untying and half pulling the thin rope free, he grabbed my shorts and pulls it down clean.

My dick sprang up at him. It was glistening as well. I had long gone past the point where the front of my shorts was not wet with precum. A brief thought did pass through my head, after it’s all dried, would the both of us have to rejoin the groups with a stain on our shorts? I was still turning the ridiculous thought over in my head, when Gerald, inspected my leaking cock, throbbing in tandem with his own. With a low long hmm, he brought his face close, open his mouth and closed his lips over my wet cockhead. His lips formed a sexy curve at the ends, as he sucked on my head like a lollipop. By the fifth bow of his head, I was half whimpering, half moaning. On the outside, it looked like he was just suckling it, but inside his mouth, the entire underside of my head was enveloped by his quivering tongue. I felt it undulate, harden and soften, and then slackened as he tightly swallowed the viscous honey. After he was done, he lolled it out again, never releasing suction, and caressed the underside of my head. He was milking it, until my toes curled. My whole body was tense with pleasure. Long forgotten muscles in my hips, back and thighs were clenched, every single part of my body was tuned to my cockhead. It was like all the energy in my body was siphoned to my cock; my brain was mush, my body felt like an empty Yeo’s drink packet, almost crushed into itself. All I felt was that delicious pressure and suction, on my cock. By the look of it, it must only be an inch or two that was actually inside his mouth, past his beautiful crimson lips but those two inches was his completely. And the rest of my body was keen to follow suit.

He freed me, releasing me with a swift gasp. Once again, he worded the silent, Wow. I was half-dazed, if there was anyone going Wow every 5 seconds, it should be me. But there he was, with his wet sloppy handsome chin, beautiful smile and open eyes, telling me he wants more. With a sure hand, he grasped my cockhead, milked it, and swiped off the saliva and precum, collecting it. I was back on the cupboard, resting on my elbows, I had to, my knees were so weak. Kissing my balls, he ventured low and found the joint of my butt cheeks. With slithering fingers, he located my ass-bud. The fingers were slick with my own precum, and he used it, circling around the puckering bud with his finger tip and knuckle. His whole hand felt like it was buried in between my butt cheeks until I felt the actual tightness of his finger slowly pushing into the hole. It was glorious, I tried to resist, but he pushed in anyway. It was half in, but he kept pulling it back out and circling it before putting it back in again. I didn’t realise why, until I figured out that I was moaning along to this rhythm. He was responding to me. It felt awesome, feeling his finger pushing, fighting slightly as I resisted the penetration. It was playful and felt so goddamned good. It went in and out, until I realised my moaning got louder, more desperate, yearning. “Okay, now let’s try four”, and then with no heed or warning, I felt the newly formed probe sliding its way into my ass. He had been slowly increasing the amount of fingers he put in me, and it felt so good, I didn’t even register it.

All four fingers, I noticed felt full in my ass. It took more effort for him too, from the grunts he was making. Still I gave it to him; there really was no turning back now. He milked my dick, almost to the point of ejaculation, his entire hand is almost in my ass, I was too enveloped in pleasure to even be shy anymore. I bore down on his hand. With my right, I grabbed his wrist, tried to push it in more, I could feel some pain now, but the pleasure overrode everything. Especially so, when every time he went in, he would tense his fingers, and focus his touch on one part inside me. It was only much later that I would learn, he was fingering my prostate. Every single push on the gland was pleasure. Every single time he did it, I clenched and quivered, my dick jumping and nodding both in protest and pleasure. I was almost ready to collapse, my chin was on my chest, the shirt on my neck was soaked and my knees felt so weak.

Eventually, he exited out from my ass. He rose up from my ass and leaking cock and with steady eyes gathered my hands with the rope. I didn’t know how skilled he was with knots, but within seconds, he had tied my hands up tight, and with the slack of the rope, tying it up to a drawing easel right behind the cupboard. I guess this was it. He could smack me or fuck me to death. And by that point, I was fine with both.

After he was done with securing me, he lowered down momentarily. I felt strong shoulders coming up below my calves and knees, he was lifting me up. I hoisted myself up the rest of the way, until I was fully supported on the cupboard. By this time, both my cock and ass was leaking, and I was nervous, swallowing heavily and taking deep breaths. Sensing my nerves, Gerald leaned in with my legs still over his shoulders and kissed me deep. His tongue was wild, and this time, mine matched his. He pushed into my mouth more, until the cupboard started to tilt, I felt like falling but didn’t care anymore. I knew even if I did, he would catch me. Releasing each other from the kiss, he remained low but looked up directly into my eyes. He nodded and teased me, said, “Hmm, very flexible for such a tall guy.” I didn’t mind that I was almost folded in half, as long as every time he was the one doing the folding. I linked my feet behind his head, I wanted to give him an outright hug, but that was all I could manage at the point.

Incredibly enough, he seemed to get the gesture; he dipped low again; kissing the shallow valley between my chest muscles, and went down, half kissing, half licking to my navel. When he reached my cock, this time overturned, he kissed the special spot, and flicked his tongue over it a couple of times. He licked down, down, down, around my balls. Past the sensitive tingly skin at the sides, the bulge directly below the balls that poorly disguised my engorged prostate beneath. Eventually, he reached my hole.

He must have been face to face with it; I could feel his hot breath directly on it. I tried to be brave and left it relaxed and unpuckered. What was he looking at? What was he waiting for? A genie to come out and say hi? I was still figuring it out when I puckered once more, and relaxed. The moment it was open, he thrust his whole face in it. I felt in seconds, his warm tongue at the opening. I was too stunned to react, to even recoil or pucker up.