The young squire boy trembled in fear. He had been in his cell for what seemed like an eternity. The king had ordered him to be interrogated, and he was terrified of what that might entail.
The young lad, 14 years of age, was in the service of a wealthy nobleman and landowner who was opposed to the rule of this particular king. As such, the boy was often used to deliver coded messages to others of a like mind throughout the kingdom. It was on one of these late-night missions that he had been captured by the king’s royal guard on a night patrol.
After spending a cold night in bonds, he had been brought before the king. The monarch was informed of the young squire’s clandestine mission and was presented with evidence of treason: a note on parchment written in code. The king believed that the young lad knew the code, but the boy refused to betray his master.
“Very well,” declared the king sternly. “If you will not willingly talk, you will be interrogated. Take him to the royal interrogator. Return once you have the information I desire.” And with that the young teen was dragged out of the room by two guards and taken down a long corridor of steps to the lower levels of the palace. There he had been placed in his current room, a small cell with a wooden pallet to lay or sit on as one desired and a bucket of water.
Despite his efforts at courage, the youth was terrified. The king’s royal interrogator was known by reputation for extracting information the king desired. It was rumored that no one had ever withstood his interrogations for long. The boy tried hard to remain strong and put on a brave front, but he knew the truth: no one could resist the interrogator’s methods.
The lad tensed as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. The door to his cell swung open and two guards entered. They grabbed the boy by the arms and dragged him into the hall. He was thus escorted down the corridor and through a large doorway leading to another room. His heart seized and his breath caught in his chest. It was the interrogation room.
“Ahh, the young messenger boy, I see.” The voice came from a man in a dark red robe, the royal interrogator. “Place him on the rack,” the man said in an emotionless voice and a gesture of his hand. The guards did as ordered, dragging the boy across the room to a wooden rack with iron shackles for his hands and feet. Once there they pulled him to his feet and one of the guards drew a knife. The boy tensed up, but the guard proceeded to only cut away the lad’s clothing, a simple smock given him by the jailers.
Within seconds the young teen was naked before them, his clothes at his feet. The guards lifted the adolescent onto the rack, firmly securing his hands and feet in the iron shackles. In less than a minute he was strapped down, his body pulled taut and spread-eagle by the mechanism. And with that the two guards left the room, closing the door behind them and leaving him alone with the man in red.
The interrogator had his back to the teen, apparently occupied with something else. “I am the royal interrogator,” he said solemnly, confirming the boy’s worst fears. “It is my job to extract information from you, specifically the code to translate the message you carried.”
The boy momentarily shivered, his naked body exposed to the cold dungeon air. The man continued. “The challenge, you see, is to find the right motivation for each prisoner. Some respond to the pain of torture, others to the fear of torture. But others…” he turned and looked intently at the boy. “Others require more – how shall I say it? – refined methods.” A wry smile appeared on his face.
The interrogator stepped toward the boy, walking right up to the rack. He stood there silently, looking over the boy from head to toe, taking in every square inch of his slender body. The boy couldn’t help but notice that the interrogator’s lips were pursed together as his eyes moved along the boy’s body. The lad tried his best to control his breathing, putting on the bravest face he could.
“I have never interrogated a boy of your tender age. Fourteen, I believe? Ahh, I remember being that young. Yes, I believe I have just the thing for you. Trust me, dear boy, you will talk. Yes, you most certainly will!” he laughed.
The royal interrogator extended his hand, his fingers gently touched the boys bicep first, gently squeezing it as if to feel his muscles. The boy tensed slightly, trying to appear strong. The man’s fingers slowly descended down to the boy’s armpit. His fingertips ever-so-gently stroked the young lad’s wispy armpit hair as if conducting a physical examination. The boy trembled slightly in response to the ticklish feeling. The man continued to move his hand along the boy’s young body, taking the time to feel and examine every inch of him, even using his fingers to trace the outline of the boy’s toned muscles.
Despite the fear of impending torture, the boy was mortified to realize that he was becoming aroused. Unbelievably his youthful penis was beginning to stiffen. This did not go unnoticed to the royal interrogator.
“Hmm, what have we here?” he asked quizzically yet knowingly. The boy froze. He could only imagine the horrors of what was prepared for him. “Don’t worry,” continued the interrogator. “I won’t hurt it. I intend to use it.” And with that his hand slid down the boy’s body and gently grasped his hardening member.
The royal interrogator slowly ran his fingers along the length of the young boy’s shaft, gently feeling their way from the base to the head. Upon reaching the head he gently wrapped his hand around it, slowly rotating his wrist to delicately stroke the head with a feather-light touch. The boy gasped in pleasure.
“Does that feel good, my boy?” asked the royal interrogator with a wry smile. “I know it does. That’s the point, you see.” His eyes looked at the boy as the boy returned his gaze. “I suspect that you would not respond well to fear or pain, so I need to find another way with you. And you have given me that way, just as I suspected you would.” The youth appeared confused.
“Let me explain,” said the man. “You will remain on the rack while I slowly stroke your young penis. You will find my technique to be slow and cruel, excruciatingly so.” A broad smile appeared on the man’s face. “The key, you must understand, is to stimulate your adolescent member to the very edge of what you are able to endure…without letting you release.” The squire’s eyes opened wide. “Yes, my dear boy. I will keep you on the edge of release for as long as I have to. Maybe hours, maybe days. Who can say?”
The boy began to breathe heavier. At 14 years of age he knew full well how horny he could get. There were days when he sneaked through his master’s house looking for an unoccupied room in which to relieve himself. He knew the overwhelming desire that his raging boner could produce, the irresistible urge to spurt sometimes more than he could bear. The thought of being erotically stimulated for hours, even days, was more than he could comprehend.
The royal interrogator’s little speech had had the desired effect, he observed. The poor boy was breathing heavy, his eyes and mouth wide open, and his adolescent cock stiff as an iron rod. This would be a productive day, thought the interrogator, productive indeed. The poor lad was caught somewhere between fear and anticipation – fear of his impending torture on the one hand, anticipating the erotic stimulation on the other. The royal interrogator smiled to himself, inwardly delighted at the adolescent’s hopeless predicament.
With that the man began to lightly stroke the boy’s turgid pole, always taking care to never go too fast. Up and down he went, at times his fingers barely touching the young lad’s member, never deviating from his excruciatingly slow pace. But that was all it took. Within minutes the youth began to ooze precum, a sure sign that the torture was doing its job.
The royal interrogator watched with sadistic satisfaction as the boy’s eyes rolled back in his head, his lips slightly quivering. Yes, this was going to be an enjoyable day, he thought to himself. The fingers of his other hand roamed around the boy’s young body, sliding down to his scrotum and crotch, stroking his armpit hair, gently twirling his pubic hair. But through it all he continually focused his primary attention on the squire’s young cock, his raging, throbbing cock.
Within a short time the youth was moaning softly yet audibly. “Ohh. Ugh. Mmm.” Music to the torturer’s ears, it was. What had started out as a light emission of precum was quickly becoming a copious flow. Yes, this lad was horny, so very horny. And it was only to get worse – for him, at least.
As the minutes crawled by the interrogator ran his fingers gently along the boy’s pubic area and onto his belly. He leaned in close so the young man would be sure to hear. “It can all be over, you know. Just give me the code and I will give you the release you so desperately desire,” he whispered. “Think about it. All that tension in your young member, all that pressure and stress, released in one explosive moment. Think of what that would feel like. Yes, dear boy, your pent-up seed erupting from your penis, spurting powerfully from your body through the air. Think of how glorious it would feel.”
He was, damn, how he was! The boy was in sexual hysterics. The torment had only been going on for about an hour, but the young squire wasn’t sure how much more he could endure. He was constantly pulling against his restraints but to no avail; he was firmly secured. He had even tried thrusting his hips upward into the interrogator’s hand, hoping that it would be enough to trigger his release. But alas, the man had anticipated this and refused to play along, withdrawing his hand before the thrust was completed.
“Oh, God! Please, let me cum! Let me cum!” the boy pleaded in vain. The interrogator noted with a cruel glee that the poor lad had tears in his eyes. He also observed that his youthful body was drenched in sweat and his overstimulated cock was a deep red. Yes, the young squire was experiencing a level of sexual frustration that he had never dreamed possible. And the royal interrogator had no intention of letting it end anytime soon.
At this point the torturer unexpectedly bent down over the boy’s leaking penis, extended his tongue, and carefully lapped up the boy’s sexual secretions. “Ah, yes,” he said wickedly. “We certainly don’t want this to go to waste, now do we?” The royal interrogator had a taste for adolescent male emissions, it appeared. Although his tongue felt great, it was done in such a way so as to not allow the boy his desperately desired release. The interrogator was a master at his job, there was no question about it.
The boy began to doubt his resolve. Could he hold out? Was such a thing even possible? His young body wanted so desperately to ejaculate. In fact, that was all he wanted, all that occupied his teenage mind. His body was wracked with pleasure, all of it emanating from his erection. As he laid there helpless and at the mercy of a man who had no mercy, he realized that his cock was harder than it had ever been in his life. He was convinced that there was no sword forged in the kingdom that was harder than his prick at this moment. God, how he wanted to cum!
Suddenly the interrogator began to stroke the boy’s cock faster. Could it be? he thought with a faint glimmer of hope. As the man’s hand moved faster along the shaft and head, he leaned in to look the young squire in the eye. “Do you want this, boy? This is what you’re craving, isn’t it?” His hand continued the faster strokes, bringing the boy ever closer to the release he needed. “Just say it, boy. Give me the code and this all ends.” The hand sped up.
The lad was ecstatic. Perhaps the royal interrogator would have mercy on him after all and allow him to spurt! Oh, God, please let it be!
The interrogator ran his hand more fervently along the messenger boy’s raging boner, rotating his palm around the sensitive head for added effect. The boy felt the start of an orgasm! Then suddenly the stroking stopped and the interrogator wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of the boy’s cock, squeezing it firmly. The result was instantaneous – the long-hoped-for orgasm stopped!
“No!!” screamed the boy at the top of his lungs, his adolescent voice cracking. “Oh, God! Please! Please!! Make me cum! I beg you, if you have any godly mercy, make me cum!!” The lad’s sweat-drenched body writhed in agony on the rack, his muscles tensed and struggled furiously against his restraints. But it was all to no avail. There was no escape, and both he and the interrogator knew it.
“I am in need of sustenance, my dear boy,” said the royal interrogator. “Let’s take a break, shall we? When I return in one hour, perhaps you will be more cooperative.” The man turned and walked out the door, leaving the poor, desperate boy to lie there for the next hour.
At the end of an hour the royal interrogator returned from his meal as promised. “So, have you used this time to consider your fate, young one?” he asked solemnly. Indeed the boy had.
As he laid there helpless and horny, he had arrived at a realization, however reluctantly. The rumors were true. No one could resist the interrogator’s techniques for long. Everyone broke. The boy looked up at the man, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I will give you the code. I swear it.”
The interrogator broke into a wide smile. “Excellent! You have made a wise choice, young squire.” He walked over to his desk and brought back a piece of parchment with a quill and ink well. “Very well, young lad, what is the code?” The boy, mentally and physically broken, reluctantly gave over the code. The interrogator called for a guard. “Here is the code. Have the message translated and take it to the king immediately.” The guard complied and departed.
Returning the quill and ink to his desk, the royal interrogator turned his attention back to the poor messenger. “All right, young man, you have given me what I wanted, now I will give you what you want. You want to cum, don’t you?” he asked somewhat sarcastically.
“Yes!” exclaimed the lad. “Yes! Please!!” he cried.
“Very well,” answered the man. “In a gesture of respect for such a worthy opponent, I will give you a choice. Shall I finish you off with my hand and let your youthful seed fly through the air, or shall I finish you off with my mouth and swallow your seed? Ahh, decisions, decision,” he mused. “What would you like, my boy?”
The young squire couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to cum so badly that he never imagined having a choice. “Swallow it!” the boy pleaded. “Please, sir, swallow it!”
“As you wish!” replied the interrogator. He bent over the rack and put his mouth on the young lad’s hopelessly overworked penis and began sucking, slowly at first but quickly speeding up. He paid special attention to the youth’s head, stimulating it mercilessly with his tongue. His efforts had the desired effect. The boy began to tremble, his body pulling in futility against his restraints, his hips beginning to thrust upward wildly. The boy approached his long-delayed orgasm like a wild animal. His adolescent penis throbbed and pulsed in the interrogator’s mouth as the boy exploded in release.
“OHH!! OHH!! OHH, GOD!!! OHH, GOD!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!!! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!” his screams echoing off the walls and throughout the corridor as his stiff prick unloaded a volcanic torrent of his youthful semen into the royal interrogator’s waiting mouth. Despite the man’s best efforts he could only swallow so much. Neither had ever experienced such a massive release of male seed. Both wondered if it had ever happened before or would ever happen after.
Finally it was over. The boy’s body relaxed, his cries turned to whimpers, and his long-tormented penis went soft. While the interrogator had managed to swallow a significant amount of the boy’s cum, he couldn’t contain it all. It had dripped out of his mouth and onto the lad’s pubic hair, coating him in his own white, sticky cream.
The royal interrogator stood upright and wiped his lips, a satisfied look on his face. “I suppose I should tell you, boy, that once that note is translated, your master will be arrested and most likely executed. That means you will be without employment. But don’t worry. I will speak to the king. As an expression of his royal gratitude to me, I’m sure he’ll let me keep you as my own personal squire. After all, it would be a shame to waste such a wonderful young cock – and its delectable seed!”
A young boy has first oral experience with a much older man
The Young Boy and the Old Man Richard, or Richie, was 16 years old. Every other day after high school he would go to the college campus nearby for soccer practice. Richie was Caucasian with full thick brown hair that was cut to have a comb-over effect similar to his favorite soccer player, Ronaldo of Portugal. He was only 5’6’’ and because of his constant physical exercise he was very slim. Lately he had been getting more hair on his legs and some of his friends made fun of him. Because of his small frame and the jokes of his friends, Richie was often left feeling shy and self-conscious. One night he decided to shave his legs. He shaved all the way up to his smooth buttocks. This is when he realized that every time his razor gently stroked his buttocks he would get a hard-on. He found it very interesting and all of a sudden he began to wonder what it would feel like to have something up his butthole. He didn’t dare stick his finger in because he thought it might hurt. But the idea lingered… After soccer practice the next day, Richie decided to go to the restroom. “Where you goin’, Richie?” His friends called out. “Bathroom!” Richie called back. “Little boys room? Don’t get raped!” His friends laughed. There was a bathroom nearby but Richie was afraid his friends were going to come in and pull some kind of prank. So he wondered off further into the college campus. He crossed a small one way street road to an artsy looking building with all sorts of paintings. The building had a small quad and tugged away in a corner was a bathroom with a picture of a white male stick figure. Little Boy’s Room, thought Richie. He went in. In the small bathroom there were two men. One was a college looking man and the other was a much older male. The older male zipped his pants up and had his cold blue eyes set straight at Richie. The young college man had a look of shame on his face and avoided eye contact with anyone. He picked up his bag and got to leaving. “I’ll be seeing you.” The old man called out in a strong authoritative voice. “Bye.” The college man said shyly and left. Richie looked at the old man who had not taken his cold stare off of Richie for one second. The old man must have been around 50. Gray hair. Constant wrinkles on his face. Bags under his eyes. A look of knowledge and something else in those cold blue eyes. He was easily six feet tall and was dressed with nice slacks and a nice button down shirt. Richie then noticed the old man looked him up and down as he licked his lips. Richie’s heart skipped a beat as he felt a feeling of both fear and curiosity. Richie’s eyes then went down to the crotch area of the man which had suddenly gotten a little bit bulkier. Richie noticed a slight tweak in there. At that point Richie looked away and went to the only urinal in the small bathroom. He began to pee in the urinal realizing the old man hadn’t left. On the right of the urinal was the sink and then the exit door. To the left of the urinal was a small stall and next to that was the slightly bigger bathroom stall for handicapped people. Richie finished peeing and moved to the sink. The creepy old man was still just standing there. Now he was being blunt. He openly stared at Richie’s butt as he washed his hands. “Is that a soccer uniform?” The old man said when Richie made eye contact with him again. “Yes, sir.” “I like that. You are a good looking boy.” The old man said, “My name is Tom. What is your name?” “R-Richie, sir, its Richie.” “I like that you call me ‘sir’” Tom complemented, “Very good boy.” Richie felt the old man’s eyes pierce right through him. It was such cold and lustful and calculated stare. But at the same time Richie felt so good that the old man complemented him. “You must be a hellavu soccer player with legs like that.” Tom said. “I don’t know. Thank you.” Richie made a move to leave, but the old man was quick to put a hand on his shoulder and their eyes locked gazes again. This time it was different. Richie looked up and he saw two blue attractive eyes on a tired and experienced face. But the eyes were suddenly not just lustful, but complementing. Flattering. There was a shine to them that made Richie know this old man found him alright. Good. Awesome. Unlike his friends and girls from his school, this old man showed much interest in Richie with that stare. “What did you see or hear before you came in?” Tom asked. “Nothing, sir.” Richie responded. The old man’s hand was heavy and strong on his shoulder. It felt warm. Then the old man rubbed Richie’s shoulder in a fatherly way. “Good.” He said and smiled at Richie a smile that made Richie weak in the knees. He suddenly swallowed and took a deep breath. The old man seemingly noticed this and he continued to smile looking at Richie, but his hand began to go down Richie’s spine and lower back and finally rested firmly on his buttocks. Richie’s soccer shorts suddenly bulged a little on the front. Richie once again swallowed hard and had to take another breath. The old man leaned his face down towards Richie’s ear and he whispered: “You are a gorgeous little boy. Come back tomorrow around the same time.” With that, the old man Tom left the bathroom.
Tom was 56 years old. He had an ex-wife, two kids who were grown and far away. He had a nice retirement plan that really allowed him to stay retired. And with that came a lot of time in his hands. It started out by wondering around on the internet. He wanted some young tart he could have sex with. He needed that again. He bought Viagra and searched furiously online for a woman. He wanted them young and alive not old and bitter. But the internet yielded little results in the female department. Feeling desperate, he turned to ads young men were posting looking for older men. And he met one. Then two. And Tom found it much satisfying to have sex with other young men. Then he found Erick. The young student at the local college. He needed some money for books, so Tom made a deal with Erick (who was 21) that if he gave him a bj every once in a while, Tom would in return give him 40 bucks. It was an ongoing thing. And then Tom started fantasying and wondering about the young men. No, in his head, it was the boys. In his head he was curious about the boys. And then he had that meeting with the young Richie. The little boy looked like he could be anywhere between 13 or 14 or 15. He was very slim but not in a bad way. Tom confirmed that when he grabbed the young boy’s ass cheek. He also confirmed the young boy seemed to enjoy that. So the next day came. Tom went into the bathroom of the school’s art quad. He checked the stalls to make sure the glory hole was still there. He had drilled a hole between the small stall and the disabled stall. Erick knew all he had to do was suck the cock coming out of the hole. The hole was still there. And so he waited. It was about 15 minutes past the time he had met Richie the day before and he was about to give up, when the bathroom door opened and a shy Richie walked in quietly like a little kitty cat. He was wearing a tight fitted long sleeve and some rather tight skinny jeans. He was very feminine looking and Tom couldn’t help lick his lips. “Hi Richie. No soccer practice today?” “No, sir.” “But you came anyway.” Tom confirmed. “Come here.” Richie moved towards Tom. Tom embraced the young boy. Richie did not struggle. “You are so gorgeous and girl-like,” Tom whispered into the boys hair, “I want you to accept my manhood, you understand? I want you to accept who you are, what you are. And I want you to do that with me first.” “I don’t understand.” Richie said with trembling voice, his warm young breath sipping through Tom’s dress shirt. Tom caressed Richie’s hair and Richie looked up at Tom with doe eyes. Tom couldn’t wait for the next part and he hoped it would happen. “I’m going into that stall. You go in the little one. And we will both experience something. Are you a teenager?” “Yes, sir.” Richie answered. “Dear, god, thank you.” Tom said. Then he kissed Richie on the cheek and walked into the handicapped stall. There was silence. He expected to maybe hear the door to bathroom door open and close; instead, he heard the door to the other stall open and close and the latch made a click. I can’t believe this is going to happen, though Tom excitedly. Then the nerves kicked in. The nerves made his cock’s hard-on lessen. Tom pulled his cock out throught his fly zipper opening and when he saw his cock was not fully erect, panic started kicking in. If Viagra ever worked, he thought, let it work now! Every passing minute he felt the Richie could lose interest. He was standing right next to the glory hole so that if Richie decided to peek, he wouldn’t see him. The cock, in all the nervousness and panic, became soft. Tom was disappointed and he cursed his age. Then he reasoned with himself that this kid had probably never seen another cock before so there wouldn’t be much to compare it to. Tom figured there wouldn’t be much to lose. So he stuck his semi-hard cock into the glory hole on the wall that both stalls shared. There was a gasp on the other side. Tom slid it in even further. It was a good 6 inches in. Nothing happened. “Come on boy.” Tom whispered. Then IT happened. He felt a wet soft tongue! That was what he felt first. The unmistakable warmth of a soft tongue at the tip of his penis which sent a shock of pressure all over Tom’s body. Tom let out a pleasure moan. A gruff moan only an old man can produce. This was obviously the young eager boy’s first time. Richie wrapped his young lips around the cock sucking it hard. Tom felt like he would explode soon so had no choice but to retract his cock. “That was good, my boy,” Tom said, “Take your time.” Tom then slipped out a mirror about the size of a lighter that was slightly concave from his back pants pocket. He carried it to see what was happening on the other stall when he had his meetings with Erick. He placed the mirror on the floor on the side. Then he stuck his fully hard cock back in. Immediately, the young boy continued sucking, slower this time. He could feel the warm mouth and his tongue slurping as the cock went into his young mouth. No gag reflex so far and Tom was thankful for that. Then Tom slowly pushed the mirror to the other side using his foot. What he saw fascinated him. Richie, the young teenager was down on his knees. But his pants were pulled down and around his ankles. Erick never got naked. Richie had the smoothest legs Tom had ever seen on a person. Including women. His thighs were muscular and tight, his knees lovely with some slight bruise marks as little boys tend to have. The young boy softly stroked his cock as he sucked Tom’s cock. Seeing this gave Tom the biggest hard-on he could remember having. His cock massively swelled inside Richie’s little mouth and Richie choked a little. Tom gave out another moan and Richie started sucking and licking harder with more enthusiasm. “Ah my little boy, suck my cock good!” Tom said in much pleasure. Richie did so making lovely slurping wet noises as both saliva and pre-ejaculation fluids began to mix and spill out of his young innocent mouth. In excitement, Tom put his whole seven inches through the hole and pushed hard as he felt Richie swallow so much of his cock that his young full lips must have been right up to the stall wall. As Richie held Tom’s old cock inside his youthful mouth, his young tongue would move around the shaft in wet sensual excitement. “Ahhhhhhhh!” Tom felt about to burst. The young boy wrapped his lips tightly around the shaft and Tom began fucking the young mouth by moving his penis in and out of the hole. And then he exploded. It came in three big burst that amazed Tom. The first two directly inside of Richie who was no doubt surprised as he got the cock out his mouth. The third burst sprayed Richie’s shirt. Tom looked back down at the mirror, wondering what the boy would do with his cum. Richie made a sour face and then made a gagging face before spitting out the cum all over the floor. Then the young boy closed his eyes as he caught his breath. “That was wonderful, little boy.” Tom said also catching his breath. He put his still throbbing cock back in. Then picking up the mirror. The last image he saw was the boy looking very much ashamed. “You are a beautiful young teenage boy with so much to give.” Tom called out as he left the stall, “This must happen again. Tomorrow.” Then he left for the bathroom for the boy to collect his thoughts.
This story, dear readers, is but one of a developing series outlining my fantasies. All are about how I envision my first encounters with men will transpire. None of this has yet happened, but I hope it will work in the not to distant future.
It had been long since I first had thoughts of being with a man, such thoughts having started at a very young age. I was so young in fact that later in life I suspected I had experienced some form of abuse in my early life. This eventuality did not, as is the norm, disgust me but rather inflamed me with lust for that elusive older man that may have used me for his pleasure. As such my fantasies have always hovered around the idea of older men. I like the idea of being the beautiful young boy pleasing an older wisher man.
My ideas started small; I wanted to suck an older man’s cock. I felt at the time that sucking a cock would be a good middle ground from which to see if I was interested in sex with men. At fourteen years old, I felt that to suck a cock would not obligate me in any way. If I decided after that I did like it, I needn’t feel bad or that I was every bisexual. It seemed a good escape hatch to walk away from the whole situation.Please, dear reader, do not be mistaken, I was nearly obsessed with thoughts of sucking an old man’s cock. I would lay in bed nights slowly jerking off to thoughts of an older professional man, taking me to his home and undressing me. He would strip me down to nothing, in my visions, then sit down on his couch and pull me on to his lap. I see myself in my mind’s eye siting sideways across his lap. He would touch my face, pulling me in, and kiss me deeply. Undoubtedly, I imagined, I would respond to his attention by wiggling around on his lap. I would squirm rubbing my butt against his growing member. I would wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him and hugging him tightly.
My cock would be, as it was, very hard, and my wiggling would be as much do to my extreme lust as to my wish to excite this old man. After making out for some time, I imagined, his hands would begin to explore my body. I would kiss his neck as he rubbed my back. He would pull and pinched at my nipples, and I would softly bite his lower lip, neck, and ears like a little animal.
I would lay back draped across his lap; back arched painfully backwards, vulnerable, my cock sticking straight up in the air. He would reach out and stroke my cock, and I dangled across his lap. His hands would roam over my body, rubbing my cock, pinching my nipples, placing his fingers in my mouth to suck. He would roughly caress my balls causing me to moan loudly as he pulls at them of softly squeezes them. I am completely open to him, and strangely I want him to hurt me.
His hands would run down my chest, I think as I stroke my cock, his hand resting finally on my throat. As he jerks my cock, I feel his hands tighten around it. It feels like any more pressure from his big strong hand will crush my slender penis, but in reality, I am awash with pain mixed with extreme pleasure. Simultaneously his fingers tighten sharply around my neck. He pulls me up from my uncomfortable position and kisses me hard. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth. I kiss him back, first his mouth and then his neck. I imagined that he would like to play with my ass, so I would tilt myself to one side curling up in his lap, ass out so he could better reach my hole by sliding his hand down my back.
Laying there in my boyhood bed I could see myself kissing his him all over while I am feeling his large hand slide down the length of my back then in-between my ass cheeks. He firmly plants his big middle finger on my tinder virgin asshole and starts to push and rub it softly. I squeal quietly at this touch and push my little ass back against his explorations. This thought makes me shudder and nearly cum in my bed but I hold back; for the truly good part of my imaginary adventure is yet to come. Feeling my mans need pushing up against me thorough his pants, I decide it is time for me to take control; but only a little control. I would lightly slip from his lap onto my knees on the floor. I would look up at him with innocent lust in my eyes and indicate without words my absolute need for him. I would place my hands on his belt, and slowly undue the clasp. I could see myself stopping there, looking back up at him indicting with my eyes I wanted what was within. He would surely get my signal and pull down his pants, letting me have my first look at another man’s erect penis.Timidly, I would reach out for it.
At this point, I was desperate in my bed.
I would take it in my hand and feel how hard it was, how soft and hot his cock feels in my hand. I would stroke cock gently, all the while looking up at his face to see if he was enjoying it. I imagined how as much as I would want to surrender to my desires and put his cock in my mouth, I wanted him to make me do it more. So instead of bowing to my lust for him, I would act sheepish about it. I would take his big strong hand and place it on my head. I would indicate that I want him to take me by my hair.
“Make me do it” I would whisper.
Then I would show him that I want him to pull my head up to his cock by the hair until my mouth is over the tip of his throbbing cock. I would look down at it, and see my small hand wrapped around his massive shaft. I can see a bead of his pre-cum collecting at the tip of his giant cock. I reach my free hand up to the hand that he is holding me by my hair with and push his hand down forcing me down onto his cock. I would obediently open my mouth and accept him in.
I could almost imagine, in my bed, my tongue sliding down the underside of his cockhead, picking up the pre-cum as he pushes himself into me. How could I know if I would like the taste, I wondered to myself in my bed. Stopping my fantasies for a moment, I recall looking down and seeing cum running down my cock and through my fingers. With my finger, I gathered up a large drop and brought it to my lips. I remember hesitating before finally opening my lips slightly and pushing my finger in. As soon as the milky white drop of juice hit my tongue, I knew I was addicted. I knew I wanted some that weren’t mine.
Now back in my fantasy I am in a panic. I’m on the floor between his legs again, his big hand on the back of my head pulling my head up then pushing it back down. I could feel his cock growing even larger and harder, so hard and big in fact my mouth was tight around it. In his rush, I place my hand back onto his and force him to push my head even harder down on to his cock. He would eagerly start to do this and feel myself regretting this offer as he starts to push so hard he is beginning to enter my throat.
Gagging on his cock, as his big hand pushes my head deeper and deeper down onto him. My lips touch his body. I can feel his cock stretching open my throat. My tongue is touching his balls now that I am so far down and i can taste the musky salty sweat that has collected on them. This taste mixes with the reality that I have all of him in my mouth. This reality amps up my lust, and I grab his hips and pull myself harder down on to him, wanting him even further inside me. He begins to fuck my throat with short rapid thrusts. I imagined not being able to breath and reaching out to push him away.
Just as I start to panic, he wrenches me off of his cock and springs from the couch. Holding me by my hair, he stands over me holding my head up to him. His other hand would be wrapped around his cock, and he is jerking it savagely. I know what is coming, so I would raise myself up and push out my tongue like an obedient little bitch.
He would see this and place the head of his cock on the tip of my tongue. Pumping his cock franticly, he would grunt with pleasure. I could see myself, head wrenched back, tongue out, as large ropes of his cum shoot out into my mouth, down my trout, and on to my face. I would reach out and grab his cock, locking my lips with it. I wanted to catch every drop and swallow it. I imagine his cock pulsing in my mouth, his cum fills it, and the manly smell of sweat and seamen are all around me.
In my bed, I cum and cum and cum…
As I started to slip slowly into sleep, I could see myself still on the floor. There is cum on my face and in my hair. He’s fallen back onto the couch panting with exhaustion and release. I crawl back between his legs, grab his semi-erect cock and begin to clean it with my tongue. My cock, in my fantasy, is still rock hard and dripping. I am unfulfilled and burning with lust. I can see him falling asleep. He’s left me alone, covered in his cum and desperately wanting more.
I watch him fall asleep. Quietly I collect his cum from off my face and lick it up I cannot waste any of it. Gathering up the last little bit of it I start to think about what other parts of me could I use to please my daddy? Instead of swallowing this last bit of cum, I decided to reach back to my ass and rub it around my little ass hole. This feels very good, and as I please myself with his slippery cum, I start to suck his limp cock again. I feel my ass hole open with my touch, much like it did when he placed his large finger on it. Suddenly I am filled with white hot lust again. I ram two fingers up my ass, and pain shoots through my body. I cry out at first, but soon I realize this pain is pure pleasure. My body shutters, my cock grows hard again, and my nipples spring back to life. I slowly start sucking my sleeping daddy’s cock again and think about how I can please him, and I will wake him.
This was my first fantasy and is, dear reader, only the beginning. Things can and will become much darker and more interesting.