He Did It In My Mouth - Sex Stories

He Did It In My Mouth

... wanted to feel its hardness, not with my hand, but with the ever-sensitive parts of my mouth. To . . . To . . . To suck . . . To suck on it. Okay, there I said it, at least to myself, before I suddenly reversed that thought and screamed silently in my head “No! No! No! I don’t want to suck on it. I’m not a faggot! I’m not a cocksucker!” Cal stepped another half-foot to me and his cock was four inches from the tip of my nose. I could see every outline, every ridge, every change in coloration. It was so beautiful but so forbidden. It was so hard and I sensed it had needs but . . . but . . . I wasn’t a cocksucker! I had never done it before except in hundreds of fantasies. I wasn’t a cocksucker! It couldn’t expect to get its pleasure form my mouth. I didn’t know how. I was too young. I was a virgin. And – And – And – this was Taylor’s grandfather! Then I realized that he hadn’t asked me to suck on it. The battle of sucking on his cock or not sucking on his cock was all within me! He turned sideways and I was astonished and very much in awe with how long it looked. It was straight like a pole because of its great hardness and it looked like a baton sticking straight out. In reality, I suspect it was seven inches long with normal thickness, but for my young and virgin eyes, it looked like a monster. He turned back to me and soothed me with words to just look at it and to get closer and to see it from all angles. His fingers very slowly stroked it near the base. I caught a ...

... glimpse of his balls for the first time and thought I would be ill. They looked so nasty and dirty and disgusting and yet --- for some reason --- I knew I wanted to like what men’s balls looked like and to appreciate them. Then, he did one thing that changed everything. At the time, I didn’t understand why, but now that I have more knowledge, I realize it has to do once again with me being a sexual submissive. He stepped forward again and he put one hand on the back of my head. As soon as I felt his hand on my head, I felt like a balloon within me popped and all of the air escaped suddenly. It was the air of my willpower. His hand absorbed it and I instantly felt it drain from me. It was like I wilted; like he had begun to take control of me; like my strength to resist was leaving me; like my own ability to think or decide were ebbing away. If it all could be put into one word, that word would be—surrender. “Smell it, Brynn,” he commanded. “Just smell it. Know what a real man smells like.” Not only was it intoxicating, it was everlasting. He touched his erection to my nostrils and rubbed it there and even later I could smell the scent of his penis and I can recall that scent even today. After a short time, he said, “You can suck on it, Brynn. Don’t be afraid. We’re here. No one will know. I been around enough cocksuckers to know that you’ve been wanting to suck for a long time. Now is your chance. Who knows if we will ever be here again?” The last part of his statement sent panic ...