Cum Rag (Patreon)

All characters are 18+

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It's been a few years since my high school bully lay in my bedroom with his eight and a half inch cock sticking up from between his legs, but I think about it almost every day.

It was one of those 'is this really happening to me?' moments that are usually resigned to the pages of a fictional novel, or the set of a movie, and yet it did happen, and it's fuelled many orgasms since.

Let me give you a little background. I was eighteen at the time, and no, I didn't look like Prince Charming or anything even remotely close. I wasn't bad looking, I guess I fell into the unfortunate bracket of being completely and totally normal.

I didn't have abs or pecs, I didn't have bulging muscles or even a giant cock to make up for it. I had a normal, albeit skinny body, with stretch marks from a turbulent puberty. I'd recently overcome the usual teenage bad skin, I hadn't yet learned how to keep my thick brown hair from sticking up at the back and my only defining feature was my glassy blue eyes.

His name was Gunnar, which was, in itself quite strange considering his entire lineage was purely American. He was nineteen, and wasn't what you'd generally expect from a bully. He wasn't head of the football team, he didn't have a huge gang of 'bros', he wasn't even that big, but even I couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome.

He had short blonde hair, shaved tight probably by his mom. He was an incredible swimmer, or so I'd heard, so his body, whilst not exactly large, had that typical swimmer's V shape which was enough to make me drool during gym class. He was stupidly aggressive too, and I'm not sure if that added to, or took away from his overall draw.

So how did he end up in my bedroom half naked you ask? Well, I have my twelfth grade English teacher to thank for that one. You see, Gunnar and I hadn't seen eye to eye for most of high school. He seemed to take pleasure in being a giant dick to me, for no good reason at all. I however, was much more of an intellect than he was, and so our teacher seemed to think it a good idea to pair us up for a project.

Naturally, I did the majority of the work whilst he sat there goofing around or staring into space, and then the deadline approached rapidly, and we were way behind.

"You two should meet up over the weekend" our teacher had said, and to save you the back and forth arguing, that's exactly what ended up happening.

My parents were out of town for a few days, and he lived in a trailer with his mom and six siblings, so it made more sense for him to come to mine. At around midday on that faithful Saturday, a loud, chugging, black smoke spitting car pulled up outside and Gunnar sauntered to my door.

I wasn't happy, he wasn't happy, but it would only take a few hours and then we could return to hating each other once again.

I believe the project was on the evolution of the written word, and whilst that fascinated me, Gunnar spent much of the first hour yawning, groaning, searching through my bedroom and finally, rolling up bits of paper and seeing how many of them he could get stuck in my hair.

"Are you going to help at all?" I hissed, ridding my thick hair of at least fifty tiny paper balls.

"You're doing great" he scoffed, and threw another one.

As I returned to the work that we were supposed to be doing, I didn't notice that my guest had gotten bored of terrorising me, and had turned his attention toward my bedside locker. Now let me preface this by saying that I wasn't a dirty teenager, in fact, I was quite tidy and clean, but like all young men will know, in the aftermath of a particularly enjoyable wank, sometimes whatever you've used to nut in, gets mindlessly thrown to the side.

"Is this your cum rag?" Gunnar sniggered, and I turned quickly to find that that's exactly what it was.

I rushed over, grabbed the moist pair of old boxer briefs from his hand and shoved them deep into the locker before returning, red faced and mortified, back to the desk.

In the hour that followed, Gunnar insisted on calling me 'Cum Rag', and found creative ways to weave it into every single sentence that he spoke.

"What time is it, Cum Rag?"

"I'm hungry, Cum Rag"

"Are you finished yet, Cum Rag?"

I tried to ignore him, but his voice was incessant and just as I turned to lash out, he spoke another sentence that changed everything.

"Want to be my cum rag, Cum Rag?"

My eyes landed on his first. He had gotten onto my bed and was laying there with one hand behind his head, and the other, wrapped around the base of the largest cock I had ever seen. Well, it was the only cock I had ever seen besides my own, but it was huge.

You know that brain fuzz that you get with an electric shock? When you don't quite know what's going on for a moment? That's how it felt as I stared at Gunnar's cock, more so when I paired it with the question he'd just asked me.

I was at that age where I'd spent most of my teenage years denying any possibility that I was gay, and I had gotten sick and tired of it. Nobody knew, but high school was drawing to a close, so I wasn't particularly bothered if my dirty, depraved secret got out anymore.

I'd love to tell you that there was some kind of romantic spark that happened between us. That Gunnar suddenly became kind and warm, that he whisked me off my feet and proclaimed his undying love for me, but that wasn't the fairytale that we were in.

He peeled back the foreskin on his semi-erect pole and pointed it toward me.

"You think if I pissed I could hit you from here?" He asked, and began to strain.

Honestly, if he hadn't threatened to empty his bladder across my bed, I'd probably be still sitting there staring at him today. I leapt from the chair, hurried toward him with no plan at all, and once I reached him, I froze.

He grinned up at me, his hand still clutching his tool, and he shook it at me. I could see now that his pink glans were wet, and despite the fact that I loathed the handsome young man, I felt my own cock twitch in my underwear.

"You mind?" He asked, and began stroking his rod.

I simply stood there and watched him. It was admittedly, a glorious sight to behold, and one that I wanted to burn into my mind forever. It was as though he didn't care that he was jerking off in the company of another person, or perhaps he enjoyed the exhibitionism of it all. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

A few minutes must have passed before he opened his eyes again and looked up at me. I hadn't moved, and my trousers were now tenting where my erect cock pushed against them. Gunnar stared at my crotch and grimaced as though I was the weird one.

"Are you... A... A fag?"

I ignored him. I expected nothing less from an uneducated swine like Gunnar, but his hand continued to pump, and I continued to stare.

Evidently, his question wasn't that important and the for the first time in history, Gunnar did something nice. Of course, he did it for him and nobody else, but it benefited both of us regardless.

"You can suck it if you want" he told me, "but if you ever fucking tell anybody about this, I'll smash your fucking..."

"I won't" I said, the details of what he'd do to me were unnecessary.

It wasn't how I expected my first time with a guy to go. I had wished for a sexy, sensual, romantic encounter with the man of my dreams, and instead, the guy who once spat his chewing gum into my my mouth was lying on my bed holding his cock and threatening to smash my face in.

I awkwardly scrambled onto the bed between his outstretched legs and he watched me like I was an interesting insect. My face was inches away from his slick, hard cock and his musk began to pour into my nose. It smelled like him, that was the only way to describe it, though perhaps riper than usual.

I lowered my head as he held the base, until the warmth of his cock hit my lips, and they parted and spread around his slippery glans.

I'd tasted my own pre-cum before, and it wasn't unlike his. Gunnar's flavour was sharper, but in that moment, any doubt in my mind that I was gay, vanished. I could only liken it to a drug addict getting their next hit. His juices fuelled me, and my cock swelled as my tongue explored his helmet.

I sucked the head, my tongue finding the frenulum at the back and toying with it as Gunnar grunted. He filled my entire mouth with just the tip, but his hips began to thrust upwards, pushing further down my throat until I gagged violently.

His cock punched my throat again, and I did my best to compose myself as I sprayed his groin with saliva. Nobody tells you how embarrassing it can be to give someone a blowjob, but I pushed passed it and continued choking on Gunnar's pole.

He didn't make much noise for the first few minutes, except on one occasion when he smacked me in the ear because my teeth scraped his prick. I'd gotten better at it though, learning quickly when and when not to attempt to breathe.

After at least ten minutes on his cock, my neck and back began to ache, but finally I was getting a response from him. His breathing had become laboured, soft but rough moans escaped his lips, and his drooling cock appeared to be even harder than it was at the beginning.

I'd managed to take about six of the eight and a half inches, and carefully I'd also slid my hand underneath and cupped his large, heavy balls carefully. I wasn't sure if he liked it or not, but I certainly did.

More time passed, and Gunnar sped up. He fucked my throat like I was a sex toy that he'd found. I knew he didn't care about me, I knew he wasn't doing this for me at all. This was all for him, and that was making it even hotter.

His hand grabbed me by the back of the head, grasping a handful of hair and slamming me down further as I choked and spluttered all over him. My eyes, nose and mouth poured, but Gunnar didn't care.

I wanted to reach down and grab my own cock, which was now pulsing in my wet underwear, but I was too busy to do that now.

The sound of wet throat fucking filled the room as Gunnar gasped and moaned, brutally invading my airways with his meat, and then just as suddenly as the whole thing had started, my bully began to orgasm.

For a moment I thought I'd scraped him again. A whimpering sound poured from his mouth, followed by rapid groaning and breathing. I glanced up at him, but his eyes were squeezed shut, and then my mouth flooded with his unexpected load.

I wasn't sure what to do. I considered spitting it out, but there was no time. Another thick, wet rope of sperm exploded into my mouth, and almost forced the first one down my throat. I gulped it down, tasting the strong, acidic flavour as I did.

More spewed out, and more again after that. I swallowed it like I was dying of thirst, and felt it coat my raw throat. It was more delicious than I could have ever imagined, and I would have happily spent the rest of the afternoon drinking the contents of his balls.

When his orgasm finally ended, his tool became soft in my mouth and his breathing slowed down slightly. I however, was ravenous. I wanted more. I needed more, but Gunnar pulled his trousers up quickly and slid off my bed.

"Can you finish the rest of that?" He asked, his face now beet red as I nodded.

"Good, and uh... Thanks" he added, and reached my bedroom door.

"Don't breathe a fucking word of this" he hissed, his mind clearly racing, and I nodded again.

With the taste of my high school bully in my mouth, I watched him from the window as he hurried down the street. I'd have time to think of all the details later, but for now I needed one thing.

I lay down on the bed where Gunnar had just been, feeling his warmth underneath me, and slid down my trousers. With the remnants of his cum on my tongue, I squeezed my aching cock and began the first of many wanks that was fuelled solely by being my bully's cum rag.