Knowing Dave

> He groaned and I tightened my grip on his cock, wanking him more quickly. His hips started bucking more fiercely, his cock thrusting up and down to fuck my fist.

I licked and gently bit one nipple and then moved across to play with the other. His chest hair felt fantastic against my face: it was coarse and rough but its thickness intensified the sense of strength and masculinity that the guy was giving off. It was my first experience of such dense chest hair but it seemed totally right and natural on him. It seemed, perhaps bizarrely, to reinforce his heterosexuality.

I moved my face down to his stomach, tracing my tongue along the thick black line of hair leading down into his pubic bush. I could smell the sharp, slightly acrid, odour of his cock as I masturbated it and the thicker, more sweaty, smell from his pubic hair and balls.

I moved my face towards his cock, relishing the scent of it in the hot air beneath the duvet.

But he pulled the covers away and stopped me.

He called out, "Wes... don't suck it..."

"What's up?"

"I dunno... I don't think I'll enjoy it..."

His cock was two or three inches from my face and I continued wanking it. Although I couldn't see it clearly in the darkness of the room, its smell was so inviting and so sexual that I could almost taste it. I wanted to taste it.

I said, "Do you like getting sucked by girls?"

"Yeah. 'Course I do... when they'll give it..."

"Well how about I try it for a few seconds and see if you like it. If it feels too weird, let me know and I'll stop."

He didn't say anything.

I moved my head closer to his cock, expecting him to push me away. But he let me continue.

I kept working his foreskin up and down his shaft and gently licked the swollen round tip of his cock.

He gasped as I did so.

But he didn't stop me.

Then I slowed the rhythm of my hand and took the whole of the head of his cock into my mouth, feeling his foreskin sliding over it, back and forth, against my tongue.

I licked around the thin puckered slit at the tip of it, tasting the salty ooze of his precum around it and he groaned.

Again, he made no attempt to stop me.

So I stopped wanking him with my hand and took up the same motion with my lips, working my mouth back and forth along the length of his cock and sucking gently. It tasted like it had smelled: slightly sharp and bitter but with that unmistakably masculine, sexual tang.

I felt his hands on my head and thought he was about to push me away, but instead he just ran his fingers through my hair and played with my ears. Then he started bucking his hips again, driving his cock in and out of my mouth and I knew he was enjoying it.

I gripped his balls firmly with my left hand, roughly squeezing them inside his hairy loose scrotum. With my right I ran my fingers through his dense chest hair, feeling his nipples standing proud and upright through the thick wiry tangle of it.

He was a difficult guy to give a blow job to: his cock was so inflexible I had get my face right down to it, my cheek pressing into his hairy stomach. It was almost impossible to direct it upwards: you had to come to it, rather than get it to come to you.

With his hands, he pushed my head towards his cock at a rapidly increasing rhythm. His hips were bucking so hard that the mattress creaked and groaned beneath us and the headboard beat loudly against the wall. The girl who lived the flat next door would be in no doubt that I was finally getting a little action after months of near silence from my side of the wall!

He started groaning and panting, calling out my name and grunting "Yeah" and "Fuck" and stuff. He was the noisiest guy I've ever had sex with. I wondered whether maybe the girls he'd slept with had expected or demanded it from him.

My neck began to ache from being craned to accommodate the uncompromising angle of his cock. Perhaps I was out of practice at giving blow jobs, but the pain soon became too strong and I had to stop moving my mouth along his length. He responded by holding my head more firmly in his hands and then bucking his hips more vigorously, fucking my mouth with short frantic thrusts.

With each stroke he made, I could feel hot thick liquid oozing from the thin slit at the tip of his cock onto my tongue. There was so much of it I kept thinking he was starting to orgasm. But it never became more copious than a constant, seeping dribble: it seemed that Dave just produced a lot of precum.

He started really slamming his cock in and out of my mouth and his balls started hammering into my nose. They whacked against it so hard I thought it must be painful for him, but neither his rhythm nor his enthusiasm seemed to ebb.

Then he grabbed my right hand and placed it firmly on his right nipple. I squeezed it and he groaned loudly. I moved to the other and did the same and the response was even more impassioned.

His hips started thrusting even faster and the mattress made frantic "Eee-aaw" sounds like a manic donkey. The headboard whacked against the wall like a hammer drill.

Dave seemed oblivious; he was enjoying this far too much to hear it.

Then, without warning, he stopped. He pushed my head away and said, breathlessly, "Sorry..."

I thought he was about to cum but then realised he was struggling to pull off his briefs.

I said, out of breath myself, "Jesus, Dave. You're a big fan of blow jobs...!"

He chuckled. "Did it show?"

"Very slightly."

I pulled my own briefs off as he threw his to the floor.

As I discarded mine he surprised me by asking, "Can I have a feel of your knob?"

I said, "Yeah. 'Course."

Then he laughed. "Jesus. I can't believe I just said that to a guy..."

I sat up on the bed and got into a kneeling position in front of him. My cock arched upwards from between my legs, unseen in the darkness.

He did the same, kneeling in front of me.

His fingers groped against my thigh and then went too far up and felt my stomach. It was too dark to see anything clearly – and I didn't want to bring a possibly unwelcome reality to the situation by switching the light on – so I guided his hand across to my cock.

He flinched away from it and giggled.

Then he moved his fingers back and held it this time. "Sorry. It just felt really weird... I've never felt anything like it..."

"Didn't you play around a bit with other lads at school? You know, groping each other and stuff? I mean, I gather it happens a lot, even to straight lads..."

"No." He started feeling around my cock, squeezing the stem and tentatively touching the hot wet tip. "I don't think it went on in my school. Or if it did, it didn't come my way."

He played around with it, apparently intrigued by the smooth warm texture of it and the way the foreskin glided so easily down the shaft.

It felt nice but I was worried he might be feeling a little repelled by it. I said, "If it's too weird, Dave, you don't have to touch it..."

He laughed. "No! It's interesting!"

Then I felt his other hand playing with my balls, hanging down between my thighs.

He went on, "Your knob's totally different to mine... It's a lot longer but not as thick. And your balls are pretty freaky... you've hardly any hair down there..."

"If they disgust you..." I was paranoid.

"Come on, Wes! I've got a set of my own, mate. I know what to expect...!" He laughed and I relaxed a little.

I said, "I just thought, you know, if there was a part of a guy's body that might have you running for cover..."

He chuckled. "Girls hate guys' balls – or at least the girls that I've slept with have. One of them wouldn't even touch them. But they're not that bad. I mean, they don't do anything for me, but they're not repulsive or anything..."

He started masturbating my cock while he gently fondled my balls. His gripped the foreskin too roughly and jerked it rather than slid it but I enjoyed it nevertheless. The excitement of being in bed with Dave and the fact he was getting his first taste of gay sex with me easily outweighed any physical discomfort.

He asked, "Does that feel good?"

"Yeah. You're a natural."

He laughed, "Yeah, right," and I reached forward to grab his cock which was pressing up against stomach, rigid and unyielding. I masturbated it to the same rhythm he was using on me and then, with my other hand, I groped his large balls that were dangling beneath it.

He started bucking his hips and the bed started making low creaking sounds again.

I moved towards him and he did the same, pressing his chest against mine. His hair bristled against my nipples and my pecs, feeling like a thick woollen jumper rubbing into them.

Then he kissed me again, deeply and gently, as we worked at each other's cocks and balls.

After minute or so he said, "Do you like doing this with guys?"

"I don't think I've ever really done this... well not in this way..."

"I love doing it with girls. Kneeling in front of each other like this, me fingering her while she wanks me... it's one of my favourite positions."

I paused and then said, "Well you can do it that way with me too, if you like?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can finger me while I wank you off... I'd really enjoy that, actually..."

He seemed confused. "Finger you?"

"Yeah. You know... my arse..."

I thought he'd either love the idea or be totally freaked out by it. I thought the risk of the latter was worth the fun we'd have if he was up for it.

But he seemed fairly indifferent.

He said, "Maybe next time, Wes..."

I smiled, hearing the groaning of the bed springs grow louder as our rhythms increased. I said, "There'll be next time?"

"Why wouldn't there be?"

"I dunno... I guess I thought this might be a one-off for you. That you might not like it..."

He said, "Wes, come on. I'm not going to fuck you around. I mean, I didn't like straight sex first time I did it. We've got to give it a fair crack... try it a few times, in different ways..."

He kissed me gently on the lips again.

He whispered, "Don't worry. I'm not going to screw you up. If it ain't working for me, I'll be honest with you..."

I thought, "Jesus... I'm starting to fall in love with this guy..."

He said, "So what do you want to do? I can't suck you, not tonight, but I want you to have some fun too..."

I took another risk. I said, "I really want you to fuck me, Dave. I mean, I really, really want that..."

He hesitated. "I don't think I can do that..."

"Would you enjoy doing that?"

Again a hesitation. "I dunno..."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Yeah... you know... a bit..."

"Well why don't you try it? Same terms as the blow job. If you don't like it, we'll stop. If you don't, well... you know... ride 'em cowboy...!"

He paused and thought deeply. He wasn't ready for this. I wasn't sure I was, for that matter, but I wanted it more than anything right then.

I took my hands away from his cock and balls and reached over to my bedside table. Again, I didn't put the light on: I opened the drawer and groped around for the condoms and lube I knew were in there.