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I was the last one from the crew left at the bar. Andrew had left early, Jon and John had to catch a bus, and in the end it was just Michael and I for a last whiskey. I had finished mine quickly, and was halfway through my second “last” whiskey when he left. He had some contractor he needed to meet in the morning, leaving me to empty the remainder of my glass alone. I reckoned I should take a piss before walking home as well, to avoid having to make a stop in the park.

Just when I was headed to the men’s room I saw one of the girls from the annoyingly loud table at the other end of the bar walking toward the ladies’ room. In my tipsy state I thought it would be a fun joke to follow her and give a funny one liner. “Is this where I pick up ladies?” perhaps. That wasn’t really funny, but I was sure I would have something great to say. I didn’t have time to find out. As soon as I entered the ladies’ room she pivoted around, shouted “CREEP” and slapped me. At the same time someone exited a stall, grabbed my shoulder, and swung me around.

In front of me was a petite, goth-looking girl with raven hair, black lips, and a nose ring. “Go back to the boys’ room and play with their toys, you fucking creep!” she shouted, and kneed me in the groin so hard I blacked out.

When I came to I was sitting on the floor of the ladies room, with my groin in agonizing pain. I staggered into the men’s room and emptied my bladder under excruciating pain. As I exited the bar everything looked pretty much the same as before, so I could not have been out for long. I walked home and crashed in bed. Had I not been so drunk I would probably have tossed and turned in pain, but instead I went out like a lamp.

Waking up was something different entirely. Besides the normal trappings of hangover, I rocked a massive erection that screamed in pain. All morning I was contemplating just being naked all Saturday, but eventually managed to slip on some basket shorts. You know the brag warnings for penis pills “Seek medical attention if your erection lasts longer than 3 hours”. By lunchtime, meaning 3 pm on a Saturday, I was seriously considering going to the hospital. I kept running the conversation in my head though. “Hi, a goth girl kicked my junk and now I have a chronic hard on. Do you have any remedies for being a pervert” Fearing my medical premiums being erected as well, and the fact it slowly hurt less and less made me decide to tough it out. Thankfully I had enough food at home to not leave the apartment, and went to bed that evening still with a considerable tent.

He was in his early twenties, dark hair, boyish face, pale skin. His lithe body was smooth, save for a faint treasure trail just below the belly button. There was a hint of a six-pack, but less from lifting weights and more from having very little body fat. He wore skimpy, swim diver trunks that hugged the body. Like a bright blue shrink wrap they highlighted his firm ass and average size bulge.

He smiled as he walked towards me next to the swimming pool. I looked around and realized that we were the only people in the massive swim arena. He was only a few steps away now.

“Good you came. I’m so happy I can help you.”
“What?”
“It has to be a first time for everyone. I’m so honored to be doing this with you. I’ll guide you slowly. Just do what I tell you.”

He held out a thick, white shower towel to me. I took it.

“Put it on the floor and get down on your knees.”

I realized that I too was almost naked. I had nothing on except for similar, white, body-hugging speedos. I put the folded towel on the tiled floor next to the swimming pool and kneeled on it, staring right into his belly.

“First, the best is if the other guy stands or sits straight. Make sure he can see everything you do. You want to involve as many senses as possible.”

He put both of his thumbs inside the swim trunks and pulled down several inches, exposing a clean-shaven, semi-erect penis and scrotum.

“Try to always have more than one thing happening. Have at least one hand touching him at all times, even if it is just holding him. Here, place your hands on my hips.”

He had a really soothing voice. I did as he said and put my hands on his sides, running my thumbs up and down his V.

“You don’t want to just put it in your mouth. You want to at least start with a hand job. But do it in one direction, from the tip to the base, so there is a big upgrade when you put it in your mouth. If there is no lube, like now, start by licking it.”

I started licking his dick from top to base, over and over. After doing that a few times I made sure the underside and balls also were wet.

“Great. You don’t want to be too quick, but you also don’t want to tease too long. A few minutes at the most. Now, the most important part, until you really know what you’re doing, is that the teeth should never touch. For now, just curl your lips around them and start working on the tip. You decide how deep you want to go, but keep it slow and steady.”

I did as he said and started doing shallow strokes, in and out. In and out.

“Yes, you got it. Focus on what you do with your mouth and lips. The tongue doesn’t really matter nearly as much. Now, at this point you can start using your hands a bit more. Try tickle the balls or the perineum. That’s the part behind the balls going toward the back.

Yes, like that. Be careful about pulling. Many times it is a safer bet to lift the balls and let go. Remember, it’s all about creating as much sensation as possible, so move your hands around, stroke the upper, inner thighs. Keep the rhythm though. Slow and steady.”

It was like playing some coordination game. While I was trying really hard to not mess up the actual blow job, my hands were going all over the place, trying out the different suggestions he was giving.

“Now let’s go for a neat trick. Take one hand, make an O with your fingers, and do a hand job in sync with the blow job. Keep it just in front of the mouth so I can’t feel which is which. Oh boy, yeah, that’s it. You got it.”

I was feeling really good about how everything was coming together and I could tell that he was getting close to his finish. Instead of giving any directions now he was just moaning, and he had placed one hand on my head, teasing my hair. For some reason hearing him moan made me glow with pride.

Then suddenly, without any warning, he just started pumping cum into my mouth. I hadn’t really thought about what to do. Swallow? Pull out? Hamster? At the same time I could feel my own dick shooting load after load.


I woke up, almost gasping for air. In a confused moment I wondered where all the cum had gone. It had all been a dream. Well, not all of it. I turned on the light and checked the sheets, and I don’t think I’ve ever had that much cum on me before. Whatever my dick had saved up during the weekend was all dumped on me now. It looked like someone squeezed a bottle of shampoo all over my mid section. Well, at least I didn’t have to go to the ER for my erection, because that problem was solved. But what a fucking dream. I’ve never been tempted to do any gay shit before. The clock showed 4:14, so I did the least I could. Changed the bed sheets, showered the lower part of my body, and went back to sleep, this time wearing boxer briefs.

I slept until well after 9, and to my relief I could take a piss like normal. If anything my dick felt small and spent after its heroic act as a flagpole for 28 hours straight. At least it felt like things were getting back to normal, and I could spend the entire Sunday putting things back together as you would after any heavy party weekend.

Despite the overcast it is a suffocatingly hot day. The concrete ground and tiled buildings around us radiate heat, and the shade roof keeps the hot air stale beneath it. A chainlink fence separats us from the empty street. The black man has worked up a thin sheen of sweat dribbling the basketball, though his high tech blood red Nike Jordan baller shorts fabric looks the same wet as dry. He stops juggling with the ball and looks straight at me.

"Hey Boy! Come and suck black cock!", he demands loudly. I look behind me, but we are alone in the court. I hesitate. "Don't make me wait! It'll just be worse for you if you let me wait", he continues to shout. I walk towards him. I'm wearing basket shoes, calf-high crew socks, and basket shorts, but no shirt as well. I, too, am sweaty in the heat. As I approach him he makes no attempts to move closer or do anything at all. "Yo, get on with it".

I kneel in front of him. The rough concrete is uncomfortable, but not painful. Still with hesitation I lower his shorts. His body is tall and toned, athletic without being overly muscular. Once the glossy fabric passes his large dick and balls the shorts falls into a heap around his ankles. He is not wearing any underwear, so I’m almost getting slapped in the face by his long penis. I start licking the shaft of the dick, and then down to the tip. Just as I’m about to work the underside he suddenly grips my head and thrust his dick deep into my mouth, making me gag. “This is for me to enjoy, not you, slut boy!” and starts thrusting his dick back and forth, while holding my head in place.

Every thrust he makes is painful, forcing its way through my gag reflex and down my throat. He just kept going and going and going. My body makes the most horrendous noises of slurps and wet gagging. I try every way I can think of to make it better. Relax, adjust my breathing, position myself better, move with him. It gets better, or perhaps it is just my gag reflex giving up, but in the end I find that the best I can do is to attempt to take over. To stroke him, the dick, the balls, and to control how deep his dick goes. It seems to work, and for what feels like an eternity I work his dick. Suddenly he grabs my head with both hands, pushes as far in as possible, and buried my nose deep in his pubes. I can feel him pumping load after load after load deep inside my chest.


I was almost angry as I lay in bed. It was still an hour until the alarm would go off, but I had thoroughly creamed my boxers. As I stepped into the shower and pulled them off I thought my cock looked spent. My dick and balls were definitely smaller than usual. Just a thumb sticking out over a pair of balls running scared up into the groin. As if I had already had a long, cold shower.

I was off my game the entire day at work. Had the girl done something to me? It must have been her. Did she give me something while I was blacked out? On my way home I swung by the bar for an after-work beer, but couldn’t see them.

Back home I decided to do something, anything to get things on track. I pick the normal items, position myself in front of the computer and load up pornhub top list. “Daddy Lets Me Ride His Cock”. Ten minutes and forty seconds later my dick isn’t harder than my earlobes, but I am getting horny. I spend another 20 minutes hopping the top list, personal favorites, and random suggestions. Step siblings, truck stop gang bang, and big tit ebony babe nympho only made things worse. I was going to bed as upset as when I woke up, but now it was more out of frustration and exasperation. What the fuck was happening to me?

It’s a slow day in the diner, perhaps the lunch crowd already left. As I enter I recognize the patrons sitting by the bar from the truck stop gang bang video. “Look y'all it’s him cocksucker” one of them says loudly as I approach the bar. “I reckon we all up for a good ol’ BJ before we’re on our way” he continues, before he starts to unbuckle his jeans.

He’s neither caring like the swim diver nor assertive like the baller, but just stands there, passive, leaving the entire blow job up to me. I work and work on his fat, short dick, but he is taking forever to cum. I try all the different tricks, and finally after an eternity he shots a load in a few, small dribbles. That’s a lot of work for very little fireworks. It feels like a chore. I move on to the next guy, who’d continued eating while causally observing me blowing the first trucker.


*meep* *meep* *meep*

I push the phone silent. Finally a full night's sleep. I check the bed. Dry. The boxers however have like a teaspoon of cum. My dick has shriveled even further, down to prepubescent size. Is this the new normal now? And what the fuck is up with the gay shit? This is sick! I somehow managed to push it aside and not give it much thought during the day, but I desperately need to get hold of the goth girl. I decided to make another go at finding her at the bar after work.

It’s after-work happy hour and not many patrons are in yet. I recognize the bouncer from last Friday. A tall guy that looks like an Irish rugby payer. Strong and athletic, without aiming for a six-pack. I walk up to him. “Hey, you probably get this a lot, but I was here last Friday and met a girl I need to get in contact with. Short, black clothes, black hair, black lips, white skin. Very goth feel. Oh, and a nose ring I think.”

He gives me a long look before responding. “Yeah, I know who you mean. She said you would come asking. Left a message.” My mood went from Yes! to Shit! in half a second. What did she tell the bouncer? “Nothing bad I hope.” I’m trying to gauge him, but he is all poker face. “Not bad at all. Come with me. Sam! Take over five!”

We walk inside the bar and he leads the way. My head is spinning with thoughts on where this leads. What did she leave me? A bit too late I realize that we are not going to the kitchen or any staff area, but he is taking me to the men’s room. “After you,” he says, holding up the door. He makes a quick glance that all stalls are empty and locks the door.

“Now, suck my dick, boy!”

Immediately I kneel in front of him, on the restroom tile floor, unbutton his city camo pants, and tease out his cock from his 2(x)ist underwear. I take command and try to be as active as possible, and he follows my lead. It’s clear that he isn’t used to someone doing all the things I do to him. He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, but judging by the moans he doesn’t care. Not wanting him to come too soon, I pace him, switch around techniques, so he can come at exactly the right moment. There is that pride again, as I control his moaning and he is overcome with pleasure. Finally he pumps rope after rope of cum down my throat.

At exactly the moment he pulls out the dick with a final slurp, as I suck it clean on exit, the spell breaks. I realize that I’ve just given head to a real man. I’m on my knees on the floor in a bar bathroom and, apparently, have just jizzed my pants through the fabric. I stare at his work boots in disbelief over what I’d just done, too ashamed to look up.

“Dude, she was totally right. That’s the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He pulls a well circulated $5 note from a pocket, tosses it on the floor in front of me, and leaves.

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