I heaved my naked ass onto Pop's kitchen bench, then raised one knee so that he could fit my boot to my foot.
"Who does this for you at home?"
"I put my own blades on."
"So why am I doing it?"
"'Cause it's fun watching you. By the way, Pop, you're supposed to be looking at the laces while you're tying them."
"Don't forget your $100."
"I'm not gonna take it, Pop. I didn't work for it."
"You can insist all you wanna. I didn't earn it, so I'm not gonna take it."
"Then I'll buy you a gift. You can't refuse that. There! Your boots are done."
"Are you gonna clean the benchtop," I asked as I hopped off.
"Would you allow anybody else to sit there? Naked?"
"So how come it's cool if I do?"
"You ask too many questions. Besides, I don't know the answer."
"Maybe it's like one of those mysteries you were talking about. Maybe you don't need to know the answer."
"Yep. I think you're right. If we accepted things the way they are instead of continually putting them under a microscope, we'd probably be a lot happier. Or, at least, less stressed."
"Hey! That's cool! That's what I'm gonna tell Jason. I think I'll call by his house on the way home. Besides, I'm in the mood to blow his fucking lights out. I wanna look at his cock the same way you were gawking at mine while you were tying my laces." I grabbed my baggies, and pulled them over my blades, then up my legs. "Hey, Pop?" I asked as I buttoned my fly.
"I wish I could do stuff for you. I mean like… y'know. But I can't."
"Maybe I should stop teasing you."
"Then you wouldn't be Daniel. Anyway, all relationships have their limitations, and it's important that they do. If people, for one reason or another, go beyond the accepted boundaries, it destroys the relationship. I suppose it's a bit like a high-wire, trapeze act. There's always the danger of falling, but the intention is to remain on the wire. That's what provides the audience with excitement. The alternative is to fall, and spoil everything."
"I'm glad you understand."
"What would you like me to buy you for a gift?"
"Hey, Pop. You can't buy what you've already given me. You wanna big hug before I go?"
I was always nervous about knocking on Jason's front door. His gran was kinda spooky, and made me feel as if I was intruding, or interrupting something.
"Hi. Is Jason home?" I smiled, looking as sweet and innocent as poss.
"Lifting those silly weights in his room, as usual. And please remove those wheely whatevers before you come in. I don't understand why you boys insist on getting around like tea trolleys. By the way, I simply must meet your mother. She sounds so lovely on the phone."
"She does? Oh, yeah… she does. Yeah, mom's the bomb."
"You know… she rocks."
Rocks… bomb… they mean lovely."
"Then why didn't you say lovely?"
Jason was in the middle of working out when I entered his room. Fucking hell! What a wicked bod! I figured I could've seen it a million times, and still have been just as impressed as I was the first time. It was just too fucking perfect. Whoa! Especially his awesomely defined pecs and abs. They kinda screamed out to be touched and fondled and massaged. Forever! And his fleshy, brown nipples just begged to have a pair of warm, moist lips pressed against them. Yum!
"Hi, buddy. Just on my way home from Pop's. I don't have a lotta time. Can I get straight to the point?"
"I wanna blow you."
"That's pretty straight to the point," he laughed, then lowered the weights to his side. "Jeez, how do you know Gran hasn't got a fucking wine glass pressed against the door?"
"Nah, she's sitting on her fav chair, crocheting again. So how about it? A quick blow job?"
"And what about you?"
"I've been blown twice already."
"Jesus! I knew it! So that dirty old dude finally hit on you?"
"Nope. His neighbor. A girl. She kinda fancied me. Gives wicked head. And I almost fucked her. Awesome."
"A girl? But I thought…"
"Hey, that's your problem, man. You think too much. So you wanna jet a truckload of boy juice down my throat or what?"
Jason placed the weights on the floor, straightened, and sighed. "Dammit. If it didn't feel so fucking good…"
"That's the point, isn't it? You know what Pop said just before I left? He said we shouldn't be putting everything under a microscope all the fucking time. How the fuck are you supposed to have any fun if you're always fucking analyzing it? Hey, man, it's simple. You put your boner in my mouth, and you offload. That's it."
"But I'll be the one who's enjoying it."
"You don't think I do? You don't think it's totally fucking awesome having your monster meat stabbing my tonsils? Hey, Jason, lemme tell you something. Pop was gawking at my dick all day. You should've seen his eyes, man. Ace Ventura. He reminded me of the way I look at yours. So I just had to call by and suck that damn thing. Yours, I mean."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"If you dropped your shorts, that'd be a pretty cool start. And just stand there. I like looking up at you when I'm blowing you. And can I tell you something? Don't work out too much. You look fucking awesome just the way you are. Forget all those 'roid dudes in the mags. That's all bullshit, man. You don't wanna look like those guys."
"You don't understand, Daniel. I'm only half way there."
"Bullshit. You're there." I knelt before the boy god, and placed my hands on his hips. "You gonna drop your shorts, or do I have to chew through the fucking material to get to your meat?"
"I highly recommend it."
Then I watched Jason's shorts slide down the sexy curve of his muscular upper thighs. Boing! Woohoo! His boner slapped his stomach with a sharp smack before it settled, and stared me in the face with its enlarged piss eye, promising a delicious meal of fresh, hot jizz.
"Lemme lick your balls."
"I thought you were gonna blow me?"
"It's called foreplay. Jeez! Don't you know anything? Besides, your hangers look fucking awesome."
"What if I shoot my load while you're… Oh! Fuck! That feels so damn nice."
It felt nice to me, too, having Jason's nads bouncing around on my face while my tongue was making long, wet sweeps over the silky, smooth skin of his lower groin, and tasting the salty sweat from his workout. Meanwhile, my raised hands were exploring the firm, muscular, sensuous contours of his solid chest. "You wanna turn around?"
"I wanna taste your rosebud."
"That's gross, Daniel."
"How would you know? You tasted it already? Anyway, stop fucking analyzing everything. Just do it." He hesitated for a moment, then did as I asked. "You wanna spread those delicious buns, Jason?" He leaned forward, and I watched his perfect globes part to reveal his wrinkled pinky, which was shiny with sweat. Fuck, it looked inviting. Yeeeeesssss!
After I'd tongued his spongy hole for a minute or two, and savored its spicy flavor, I withdrew and asked him what it felt like.
"You told me not to analyze stuff."
"Does it feel good or what? And don't lie."
"OK, man. Time for the big finale. You wanna turn around again?"
Once more, his pulsating monster, with it's bulbous, cut head, sloping upward to a prominent ridge, was staring me in the face, and begging to be sucked. Then I looked up to see his eyes studying mine. "I dunno." The expression on his handsome face seemed almost apologetic. "It doesn't seem right."
"Why? 'Cause I'm down here adoring an awesome god? Hey! Get used to it, bud. It comes naturally to me."
"Well… I guess I have to admit… it kinda puffs up my ego."
I began by licking the silvery pearl of pre-cum from his pisshole, then took his hands and placed them on my head. "Don’t just stand there, Jason. Get into it. Get involved. Slide that awesome thing between my lips, back and forth. Fuck my face. Enjoy it."
"Are you sure you wanna do this?"
"I'm on my knees, man. My hands are groping your pecs. What does it look like? A fucking protest?" Those were the last words I spoke, or could speak, as he slid his thick, hard, six inches between my lips, and caused me to gag slightly. After a moment or two, he didn't need any more convincing. His primal instincts took over, his grip on my head tightened, and his pelvic thrusts became more aggressive. It was totally cool with me, though. I figured if you were gonna fuck a dude's face, you might as well do it properly, and with passion. I wanted his balls to bounce off my chin, and his scented pubes to pummel my nose as he fucked like there was no tomorrow.
Eventually, his throbber stiffened and thumped the roof of my mouth with a vengeance as the first wad of his thick, tasty juice exploded. I tried to force it down my throat before the second volley, but there was no way. His cock was like an outa control volcano, spewing hot, salty lava so damn fast, I couldn't swallow it all. And he had hold of my head like he was never gonna let go. I couldn't breathe. For those ten or fifteen seconds, I just had to chill while he drove his fuck tool as far down my throat as he possibly could.
"Fucking hell," he sighed as he collapsed backwards onto his bed, and placed the back of his right hand on his forehead. "I dunno why you do it, but I'm glad you do. Totally rad!"
"You nearly fucking drowned me."
All he could do for a while was laugh. It began as a giggle, then became almost hysterical.
"What's so damn funny?"
"I dunno," he said as his laughter subsided. "It's just so damn weird. I'm fucking your face, and it's feeling so fucking awesome. And you're actually enjoying it. Do you have any idea of what it feels like to have a tongue wrapped around your knob while you're shooting your load? What am I saying? Of course you do. Anyway, I guess it's something you can't argue with. No way."
"So you enjoyed it?"
"Are you kidding?"
"So did I. I know you don't understand why, but I did."
"You're right. I don't understand why."
"Hey, dude. If you could see the look on your face, you'd understand why.
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Diary Part 168