19. Benji #2
That he didn’t wear a belt made it a breeze to unbutton and unzip him, revealing dark blue briefs that could barely keep his dick contained. I tugged at the waistband of both his pants and undies, pulling them down together just enough for his hard dick to flop out.
Like in a trance, my fingers wrapped around it, stroking him for a moment, while I mustered the courage to do this, before I leaned down, opened my mouth, and invited him in until his tip poked at the back of my throat.
His shaft was so hard, his skin so soft.
.. My brain went blank. For five seconds, I held his dick in my mouth, unable to process the sensation.
Sam moaned. All the muscles in his body tensed, only to melt like butter in a pan a moment later.
I wiggled my tongue to test the waters, but couldn’t stop there.
I swirled it around his glans, making his legs twitch and his moans grow louder.
Before I knew it, my head was bopping up and down, devouring his dick like I knew what I was doing.
His little cries urged me on. His shirt had ridden up around his chest, showing off his muscles as he squirmed. His hand reached for the back of my head, only to clamp down into fists and smack the floor a second later. Making him feel this good was even better than getting head myself.
His legs twitched together, against my chest as if they tried to hug me in. My right hand wandered to my cock, stroking myself, so my own horniness could leave my body somehow.
“Benji,” he whispered, “ I’ll ...” Whatever he wanted to say was pushed away by a moan that sent goosebumps down my spine. He was close; it could mean nothing else.
His hand rushed down, landing on his stomach as if it planned to take over, so I could watch.
And yeah, I could’ve let him finish himself. I could’ve taken care of my own needs while enjoying the most stunning view I’d probably ever see. But I wanted to go all the way, to taste him, to experience what it was like to make him feel nothing but pleasure.
His fingers crawled closer, opening up, ready to wrap around his shaft, but I grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the ground, keeping his dick inside my mouth and my head bobbing up and down.
His head shot up to see what I was doing, but before our eyes could meet, it already flopped back down.
His legs trembled, and, like a volcano, he roared—flooding my mouth with the saltiest taste.
I stopped moving, focusing solely on each twitch of his dick as it shot more and more cum onto my tongue. It hit my throat, making me gag and pull back. My lips parted, letting his cum dribble down his shaft, and thanks to that, I managed to keep at least his tip inside.
Although I wanted to taste it, even swallow some, I couldn’t. Not yet, at least. His load was just too much. I let go of his wrist and grabbed his dick, stroking him, as I retreated my mouth, spitting his spunk back onto his cock.
Our eyes met, his brows twitching together with a smile.
“I tried to warn you,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” I chuckled. “I’m still happy I ignored it.” I licked my lips, some of his cum still on them, and as it slipped into my mouth, I decided to go through with what I had planned and swallowed it.
“Did you...?”
“Sorry,” I said, smacking my lips like you do after a good meal. “Was I too curious?”
Sam pushed up onto his arms, his elbows still weak, but he managed to sit up, his mouth gaping.
“Why are you looking like that?” I teased him. “Want me to stick something in your mouth ?”
“Yeah? If that’s okay?” His lips closed, his gaze dropping to the ground as he blushed. “I... I want to know what it’s like, too.”
“When I?—”
“Yes.”
My heart thumped.
“Are you sure?” I asked to confirm again.
“Very.” He blinked his right eye shut, wrinkled his nose for a second, then he cracked open his jaw, stretching out his tongue as if waiting to be fed.
This could’ve been straight out of an adult movie. Just better. Because we were the stars, and it was happening in real life.
Not needing a second invitation, I jumped to my feet, stood over him, and aimed my dick at his mouth.
He leaned forward and sucked me in, determined to reach his new goal. Our eyes locked. I brushed a thumb over his glowing cheek and swept a strand of hair off his forehead. His tongue slid over me, trying to fit more of me in his mouth with each pass.
Given everything we had already done, it didn’t take long for my legs to weaken. I held onto his head to keep myself upright as the tremors worked their way up from my toes, making my whole body shake.
“Here it comes,” I managed to warn him a second before I shot a rope of cum right into his mouth. It was the most glorious feeling I’d ever felt.
Sam froze, keeping his head in place, then gagged as he pulled back, his head sinking to the ground.
He choked out a “sorry,” tried to lift his head, but more coughs forced him back down.
I rushed my hand to my dick, trying to save what I could, but a second rope of cum landed in his hair, and a third dripped onto his chin. I wanked myself twice, just enough to enjoy the feeling a little, before dropping onto my knees to be at his height, bursting into laughter.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my left hand holding on to his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said, squeezing his right eye shut as he glanced at me, wiping a misguided drop of cum from his face. “It went straight to the back of my throat. I should’ve expected it after you shot so far last time, but?—”
“Sam,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “It was so hot. Don’t worry about it.”
“I didn’t ruin it?”
“You let me cum in your mouth. How’d that be ruining it? Let alone that I never came from a blowjob before. This was awesome.”
“I thought so too.” He looked at the ground and then back up at me with a newfound smile. “Although I wished I could’ve gone through with it.”
“Practice makes perfect, they say,” I said with a smirk. It made him chuckle—and made my heart skip a beat. “But maybe we’ll wait at least after dinner to try again.”
He nodded, wiping some of my cum off his chin. “I think I need a shower first.”
“Sorry,” I replied, sticking out my tongue.
“I thought we already established that there’s nothing to worry about. I only need a minute.” He pushed himself onto his feet. “Unless you want to join me. Then it might take a little longer.”
“You think we are at the point of taking a shower together already?” I teased him.
His left eyebrow popped up. “It certainly can’t get dirtier than this.”
“Do you want to bet?”
“If you’ll join me, I win either way!”
“Then welcome to the winning team.”
The shower was so small we barely had space to move, yet somehow big enough that the stream couldn’t engulf us at the same time.
Our dicks stayed hard, refusing to go down, and yes, we fumbled around a little more and kissed with the water running down our shoulders.
After a few minutes, though, Sam’s stomach grumbled so loudly that I had to say, “Yeah, I agree,” and we got out and dried off.
I put one foot after the other into my boxers, taking my time, so I could watch Sam get dressed. He slipped a pair of loose-fitting beige shorts over his tight butt, and I could’ve ripped them off his body again right away, if my own grumbling stomach hadn’t pulled me toward the pizza.
It was still a miracle to me that we’d ended up here. Maybe I should have had more questions or felt more confused, like I did with everyone I’d been with before, but I didn’t, and perhaps that alone was the answer I needed.
“You want some fresh clothes, too?” Sam asked.
“Do you even have stuff that is my size?”
“I mean, if you want to, you can also stay like this,” he joked, shuffling to his dresser.
I shrugged, said “okay” (since it was warm enough to stay undressed anyway), and walked into the kitchen, followed by his bewildered stare.
Twenty minutes later, I was still sitting on the seat closest to the balcony door, only in my boxer shorts.
The open pizza box between us only had crumbs left in it as we both leaned back, relaxed by the good food and our conversation.
We had truly talked about everything and the world: about what happened yesterday in detail, and how I didn’t regret anything, about how hilariously stupid my reasoning for the prank was, about the letter from college that he had pinned above the table like a conversation piece, and how he didn’t want to give up hope despite how everyone else (which I think meant his parents) had.
The only thing we didn’t talk about was what this was between us. Not that I needed a word or a definition for it. That it was , was the only important thing.
“Thanks for the pizza,” Sam said after he swallowed the last piece of crust. “Next time, it’s my treat.”
“I won’t hold you back,” I replied before we both fell silent for a moment again. We looked at each other, chuckled, and then looked at the table.
“So—”
“Do you?—”
We both paused at the same time, just like we had started speaking at the same time. I nodded toward him, but he shook his head.
“No, you go first,” he said.
“You’ve got any plans for tonight?” I asked, casually looking out toward the balcony, as if it was just a random question, totally not intended to suggest spending more time.
“Not really,” he replied. “Why?”
“Just asking.”
“Ah.”
“And what did you want to say?” I said.
“I wanted to ask the same thing,” he grinned.
“That so?” I grinned back.
“Yeah. You know...” He side-eyed me, almost as if he didn’t want to look at me fully, just in case I wasn’t fond of what he was about to say. “It’s still not that late. If you want, we could watch a movie on my laptop or something?”
“I’d like that.”
Sam brought his right hand to his mouth, covering his smile like he was embarrassed that he couldn’t seem to do anything else with his face.
“Then, just let me quickly clean this up,” he said, jumping to his feet and closing the pizza box.
I watched him carry it to the trash can and use all the strength in his arm muscles to fold it twice so it would fit inside. It was the most ordinary thing, and yet one of the most special moments of my life.