Henry's First Time, Part Two - Sex Stories

Henry's First Time, Part Two

... the underside of the shaft. "Fuck. Fuck yes," he whimpered. I slipped my mouth off with an audible pop. "You like that?" "So fucking much. Do you?" "Yes," I replied. "I love the feel of your cock in my mouth." "How does it feel?" "So big. So fucking hard. I want you to cum in my mouth again." "I want to cum in your mouth again too." I sucked him back into my mouth and started working him in earnest, using my hand to stroke his shaft in time to my bobbing up and down. I was still inexperienced, going just on sheer desire, deliriously drunk with my first real taste of cock. I gagged a few times when I tried to go too deep, making a mental note that I needed to train myself to deepthroat. But not now. Now I was too frantic to make him cum, too caught up in slurping down that cock to practice opening my throat. That would come later. For now I just sucked with abandon, gratified by his moans and exhortations, his unintelligible words of lust. I kept my grip on his cock tight, twisted my head back and forth as I went up and down, and squirmed my tongue against his shaft. Finally, my reward: I felt his legs tense up (holy shit, have I mentioned how muscular his legs were? When they went rigid like that, it was so fucking hot), felt his whole body pause as if on the brink as he whimpered "ohfuckohfuckohfuck" and then his cock swelled in my mouth and twitched, and I felt his cum hit the back of my throat. I pulled up so just the head was in my mouth and I drank him down hungrily. ...

... His tensed body slowly eased as he lay panting, his hands caressing my hair. I lay with my cheek on the inside of his thigh, contentedly nuzzling and lapping at his softening cock. After a moment he let out a sigh that turned into a throaty laugh. "Dear god, Henry," he said. "It's rare that I get my fantasies fulfilled. Even rarer when they turn out to be even better than I could have ever imagined." He struggled to sit up and grasped me by the shoulders, urging me up. I crawled up over him and lay on top of him, our sweaty skin slippery between us. He kissed me deeply and chuckled as I ground my cock, once again rock hard, against him. "Want me to take care of that?" he asked throatily. "If you want." "Oh, I do want." He reached down between us and took hold of me, encircling my cock with his strong hand. "Do you want to fuck me again?" he whispered as he gave me a gentle squeeze. The very thought nearly made me cum in his hand. As much as I loved fucking him—and as much as the thought of doing it again turned me on—I knew I wouldn't last more than two or three strokes once inside him, and I was reluctant to waste a good fuck on a hair trigger. "Maybe ... tomorrow?" I suggested, hoping against hope that there would be a tomorrow, that this wasn't just a one-night stand for him. He chuckled again. "When do you head home, did you say?" "In a week." "Well ... then I'd say we have a good week of fucking ahead of us." My cock twitched in his hand, and he must have guessed how close ...