Whispered by George
I don’t remember wondering why an older married guy like George would invite me to his place. I was late teens he was mid-thirties. He was a truck driver at the transport company where I had a job in the office – clerk. George and I would joke around a bit when we exchanged paperwork but you wouldn’t say we had much in common. He was a tanned, triathlon-fit maybe five-ten, maybe hundred and sixty pound. I was a typical just-out-of-college jock – young, dumb and full of cum I suppose. Had a girlfriend – Louise – and we were getting it on but it was all rubbers and “be careful” and not “there” and “ouch”. Seemed like she was angry most of the time I was fucking her.
Anyway, out of the blue, George tells me his wife’s out of town for the weekend and I should come over for some beers. OK – there was this rumor with the girls in the office that George might play shortstop for the other team. I didn’t really buy it. I figured it was the way he talked – not like a trucker at all – more like an educated guy, besides, he was married.
Maybe somewhere deep in my subconscious I wanted something to happen. I certainly dressed for it. I wore a tight fitting black T that I knew showed off my muscles and my really big and obvious nipples. I wore soft cotton shorts, white, that outlined my cock or buns depending how they draped. I wasn’t a bad looking guy I’d been told. I had the blue eyes and a good muscular chest. I was still pretty fit. My cock was pretty good too, about seven inches, uncut, thick.
I got to George’s place Saturday afternoon around one and it was a bit of a shock to see him in the domestic situation. The house was obviously all his wife’s work – kind of frilly. Also, he was wearing those floppy long shorts and a loose singlet. Just looked wrong – lazy maybe. But he got me a beer and I sat on the sofa and we began to shoot the shit.
I couldn’t hold my liquor those days. I loosened right up after one beer so when George started talking about books I just told the truth. I don’t like them.
“What?” he said. “Even erotic fiction?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I told him I’d rather lick a real pussy than read about it and he laughed. He said most people would – but a variety of diet was even better. After just one beer George and I were sitting in his frilly little lounge talking about sex. He got me another beer.
“Sex is mostly in your mind anyway,” he said. “In its own way reading about it can be just as good as doing it. It can be perfect like when you masturbate – it goes exactly how you want it to go.”
“And you can do whatever you want,” I added. The beer was relaxing me right out. “Sometimes I jerk off and its better than fucking my girl.”
‘I know,” he said. “That’s because she’s never had a dick of her own. I bet she doesn’t like sucking it. Sometimes holding your own cock is better than feeling her pussy.”
Maybe it was the beer but there was something liberating about talking to George like this. I started to bone.
“Grab your beer and come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
Down a set of stairs there was a basement room that he opened with a key. He turned on a light but it was till pretty dim and it took me a while to make out leather and wood paneling – it was like a classic man’s den from the old Playboy magazines. There was a narrow leather couch with no arms or back like a low table. There was a huge bookshelf along one wall and George chose a book for me.
The book was called “Variety” and I had to get it directly under the light to get a good look. There was plenty of text but I couldn’t be bothered straining to read because the pictures were amazing. It was an arrangement of artwork and photos of people having sex in a theatrical setting. It was immediately obvious to me that at least half of the sexual combinations were two men or a man and boy. These were the pictures that got my attention. There was one painting of a youngish boy with a huge dick getting sucked off by a distinguished looking older man that I kept flicking back to. There was just something about it. Soon my cock was standing straight and the head finding its way out of my shorts.
George gazed directly at my crotch and smiled. “So you like that kind of sex then” he said.
I was confused, “do you mean gay sex? No.”
“ I mean fabulous, mind-blowing sex. The kind of sex that makes you go weak at the knees – abandoned sex – cock sucking, cum drinking, arse rimming, fucked-by-four-men-sex. The stuff you dream about.” He was completely relaxed and seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. “And don’t say ‘no’ when I can see your hard dick.”
There was no denying my horniness but it was coming from more than just the pictures in the book. It was the entire situation – alone with George in his man-cave with my nipples tenting and my cock straining out of the leg of my shorts. And being watched by a man! I loved him looking – having him see me sexed up like this was the best part.
“So do you like gay sex?” I said.
“I love it,” he sat by me on the couch and brought his face close to mine. “A tongue in your arse is like paradise and a cock – a big fat dick sliding into your arse is heaven.”
The pitch of his voice was low and intimate and I realized we were already having a variety of sex. He was penetrating me with oily, slippery sinuous words and I was accepting every caress and stroke.
“When a man’s cock explodes in your mouth – you’ve never felt anything like it.” I was in a kind of horny stupor but not so much I didn’t see George’s cock was on the full horn and making the leg of his shorts drape like a curtain.
“I’ve had hundreds of cocks Rodney. I’ve sucked them until they’ve cum in my mouth. I’ve wiped them all over my face. I’ve held my buttcheeks open and taken them up the arse. I’ve had one in my mouth, one in my arse and one in each hand. You haven’t had real sex until you’ve had a hard cock ravage your hole.”
I felt his breath on my cheek as he whispered. His thumb softly flicked one engorged nipple. I laid back, took in ragged breaths and let it all happen.
“I’ve licked the moist hairy arseholes of strangers in public toilets Rodney – and I loved it. Fuck, your nipples are so hard. I want to suck your cock too if you’ll let me. I want to lick your balls. Would you let me do that? You’ll love it.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak so I just nodded. He slid of the low couch and kneeled between my legs. I raised my arse and allowed him to pull down my shorts. My stiff dick sprang up and slapped under his chin. I laid back but supported myself on my elbows so I could watch. He gazed lovingly at the angry purple of my swollen cockhead. He seemed to be in a daze of lust. He licked the glistening drop of precum and then took my dick into his mouth and sucked.
The sexiest part was how much he was loving it – he was drooling. But he was obviously an expert too. He deep-throated me. He grabbed my balls and pulled them down, increasing the pull on my foreskin. He squeezed my shaft so tightly I thought the head would burst but then he released it and the sensation of him licking the sensitised glans was unbelievable. He worked my dick better than I ever could. All the while he was kind of grunting to himself.
He took my balls into his mouth and rolled them with his tongue then he engulfed my cock all the way back down his throat again. I felt a finger slide up my butt. It was too much.
“I’m going to cum” I said. I tried to pull out his mouth but George had other ideas. He held me so tight I couldn’t move. He sucked me ferociously. He jerked my shaft furiously until I lost all control. I clamped down on the finger in my ass and shot my load into his mouth.
I wanted to see it shoot but he gulped it all down. He loved it – I could see him tasting it. I was panting and gasping for breath. He even knew when to let go and pull his head away when I was feeling tender. It was awesome to lie there looking over my pubes and scummy cock at George’s smiling face. My cock started to stir again already.
George stood up and I realized he was naked. He was beautiful – slim, hard and nut-brown except for the creamy white Speedo shape round his loins. He got a tube of lube from the desk and when he turned I saw his cock floating in front of him like a big fucking blimp or something. Holy shit!
“Oh Rodney,” he said. “Am I going to teach you some things.”
George used his voice like no other person I’d met. It was low and deep and rhythmical. Sometimes I had to strain to hear it and it put me in a kind of trance. He had a way of saying things – dirty things that would usually turn me off. But the way he did it made me deliciously weak with sexual desire. Though I couldn’t say desire for what – a nameless, unfocussed yearning that only George could satisfy.
In the dim light of his den he posed naked for me – turned his tanned and taut body into poses allowing me to drink in my first sight of a naked man. He raised one arm while I admired his torso.
“Yes Rodney, it’s all for you. I’m going to take you to a world you never dreamed of. Just let yourself go baby – let it happen. You see how hard my cock is for you? “
He slowly turned while my eyes devoured the broad planes of his manly back and the mysterious cleft of his arse. But the thing that took my breath away was his cock as it came into view, impossibly stiff, bouncing from its anchor point above the big round balls, I was transfixed.
“Come and touch my balls. Come and smell me baby. Come and taste me.”
The soft insistent voice made an electric thrill course through my body. I was aware of my hard, pointing nipples and the bounce of my straining dick as I walked forward. There was something incredibly horny about being called baby like some little girl. An overload of adrenalin weakened my knees as I realised that my every move was inflaming George’s lust for me.
“Lick my balls Baby,” he whispered. “Make them feel good.”
I raised my hand and for the first time felt the hot, smooth, compelling heft of a grown man’s cock. I smelt the musky aroma wafting in heat waves from his smooth ballsac. My head swam. I was faint with submission to the awesome power of George’s sex.
It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever done. My second touch of another man’s body was my tongue on George’s balls. I began to rub his hairy thighs and flat belly with my hand but soon I was rubbing my entire face and chest on his bare skin. Inhaling his scent, tasting his skin – it was worship. Warm waves of energy were flowing from him into me. He writhed in slow, sexual ecstasy as I buried my face in his armpits and under his balls and in the crack of his arse and inhaled the funky manly smell.
In the soft light of the den anyone watching would’ve seen two naked men in a slow, gentle dance of exploration. He groaned a long low moan and road his body against me in a rolling motion. The pulse pounded in my temples as we synchronized into a steady rhythm of licking and tasting and touching and I was transported. I slid my hand between our bodies stroked his cock in time.
“Down on your knees like a fag, baby,” he said.
The blood rushed to my face. Now I knew what I was lusting for – there was no denying it. The only thing that mattered to me was to be his fagboy- to pleasure George by sucking his dick.
All the energy rushed out of me and I dropped to my knees at his feet.
I got into the classic cocksuckers’ kneeling position before him. Somehow I knew what to do. The heel of each foot fitted snugly under each of my buttcheeks. I spread them and put a delicious strain on my butthole. All in that one moment I knew who and what I was – a cock-whore a fag-slut – George’s bitch. I was in love.
I grasped George’s shaft with one hand and rolled his balls with the other. I took the swollen pink head of his cock on to my tongue and into my mouth. I felt him put his hand on the top of my head as he gently started to fuck his cock into my hungry fuckhole.
Bliss! I had never felt so right in my life. George fucked his cock down my throat. His buttocks clenched and I knew he was about to shoot.
“Push your finger up my arse!” he demanded.
It was moist and warm and slippery. His knees buckled with the first spasm and I managed to catch the first spurt of hot, tangy starch all over my tongue and lips. I wanted his cum in my mouth so much! I sucked at it like a man possessed until the storm passed.
I swallowed the last streaks of his cum, and gently as I could, removed my middle-finger from his butt. He cupped my face and raised me up to his face level.
“Kiss me,” he said.
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