I hover outside the door of the dilapidated student condo, just across the street from the University, waiting for him to come to the door. Instead, a message comes up.
“Enter the code 9134 and come downstairs”
I peer down at the keypad and punch them in. The door unlocks and I’m in. The staircase is unkempt and muddy from salt and snow. As I round the flight of stairs I see the door at the bottom open. I only see him when I get in front of it.
Ali is 18, as far as I care to know. In the photo he sent me, he was well groomed with a thin black goatee, staring up from the pillow at his camera with large alluring brown eyes. His brown skin was smooth, making me worry about his age. I’m relieved when I see him in person. The guy at the door is a little older. And a little rounder.
I smile. He’s still got the eyes, but the rest of him has succumbed to the frosh fifteen. He’s cute though, and I can’t imagine him needing to ever catfish by sending a fake photo.
He quietly leads me to his room, the first of several in the large basement apartment.
“My room’s a mess. Sorry.” he says.
“Ah, that’s ok.” The smell of rotting chicken is in the air, and several unwashed plates are on his dresser. Several day’s worth of underwear is on the floor.
“Mind if we turn off the light?” He switches off the light, plunging us into the dim glow from the streetlamps outside.
“I have to say, I’m surprised,” I tell him as I toss my coat on the floor. “When we talked a few months ago you were just looking for people to hang out and watch movies together.”
He laughs. “Before, I was looking for friends. And now I am like ‘just fuck it.‘”
He’s standing close to the bed, unsure of what to do.
I sidle up to him, and reach over with one hand and pull my shirt off, in one practised motion. He fumbles with his own, but it’s too late. I’m right in front of him. “Want to make out?” I ask.
As our lips touch, he kisses with the starved passion of a horny teenager. He engulfs my whole mouth and our faces twist against each-other as he nibbles my lips. Growing bolder, his tongue invades my own.
Our hands travel, caressing each other’s bodies. Mine roam downwards, and I cup his hardness which is pressing against his sweat pants. This is why I am here.
I pull away and looking into his eyes for approval, I slowly pull down his pants. He cooperates eagerly and in a moment we are both nude.
We resume kissing and my own cock pokes against his abdomen. In a moment I feel his dick make its way between my legs; it curves upwards and as I am standing I feel like I am riding on it. I can feel him begin to hump against my perineum. I open my eyes and he looks into them with uncertainty, even as he continues to thrusts against me. I allow this. With every motion, my own dick slides along his abdomen.
Finally I reach down between my legs, and grab his invading cock in my fist. As I stroke it I watch his eyes to roll back into his head in pleasure.
He’s gasping. I feel the slickness of his precum between my fingers.
“I really want to suck you,” he says.
I release him. “Go ahead.”
He kicks aside some textbooks on his bedroom floor, kneels down before me, and grasps my cock in his hands. He tries to get a good look, but there is not much to see in the darkness, aside from it’s length. It’s bigger than his, anyway. I flex it to make sure he knows that.
He takes a deep breath, and I gasp as suddenly I am engulfed in the warm softness of the teen’s mouth. He begins to suck with such skill, I swear he’s been doing it for years.
“God that’s good,” I exclaim, and reach behind his head to caress his thick black hair. I pull his head toward me and thrust slightly, making him suck me the way I like.
Maybe I thrust too hard or something. Anyway, he grabs my dick with his other hand and starts to stroke me off, while sucking. I feel my balls getting ready to gush and realize I can’t take much more so I push him off. (I always like to stay horny.)
He stands up and this time I’m kneeling, back against the bed. His penis is already quivering and leaking, so I start off slowly, moving from the bottom to the tip, then back to the bottom again. He wants it so bad, I feel his hands on me, too afraid to press me, but just trying to nudge me closer to his cock head.
I make him wait before finally taking him into my mouth, just a little at first, then more until it’s in my throat, where it belongs.
I swallow and move my tongue, caressing it’s entire area and he gasps.
Then, his hands are on my shoulders, steadying himself as he pulls out, and begins to thrusts in on his own. He seems to like the tip moving through my lips. I have fun caressing his butt in my palms.
Then he stops, lays on the bed, face up. I get between his legs, eager to resume, but his hand is there, stroking himself. I move near him to lick his balls and inhale the heady aroma of his scent.
“You want me to cum on your face?” he asks suddenly.
“No, I like to taste it.” I tell him.
That spurs him on, as his body arches into the air, his head pressed low into the pillow. His hand is a blur.
“Go now. Take it now–” he says, and I feel his other hand clumsily behind my ear, trying to direct me. I lunge at his cock, grabbing it between my lips. His hand moves lower down the shaft to make room, but still moving madly.
“Ahhh ahh—” he grunts, voice breaking into a falsetto. “I’m cummming!“
When I started my adventures I wanted desperately to feel a man cumming inside my mouth. I soon found that this was difficult. For one, cum is at body temperature, so it doesn’t really feel like anything. Often, it’s without taste as well. So I do appreciate the announcement. But this time, for once, I can feel it too. The teen’s cock spasms and his hips shoot up into the air and at the same moment I feel it hitting smack in the middle of my tongue, with all of the pressure of a dentist’s water pick. He keeps shooting, five shots in all, and I can actually feel its thickness against my tongue.
I gulp it down, and then keep sucking gently as his hand falls against his thigh and he lays there, chest heaving. I suck all I can, until he starts to giggle and wriggle away. Cut guys get sensitive.
As I get my clothes back on, he reluctantly gets up from his drowsy aftermath.
“Wait let me check for my roommates,” he warns me. He pokes his head out of his room, then gives me me the signal to go.
I quietly leave and disappear into the night.