Josh's First Fucking

by 0813 on the BackDoor

It was the summer of my 16th birthday. I had just finished my junior year of high school, and I was looking forward to spending my time driving around in my new car. I was one of the lucky ones. My father wasn't rich, but we were well off; I had been pulling good grades all my freakin' school life, so I guess my parents felt some kind of obligation to me. And it was mine, all mine -- a brand new Nissan Sentra. It was gorgeous; jet black exterior, with a charcoal grey cloth interior. It was the best! I could look hot driving around the town, yet still hold an air of responsibility and maturity (which, I think, is one of the reasons I got the car in the first place).

I wasn't the most popular kid in school; never was. And I certainly wasn't the best looking, or the best built. I had short blond hair that was well groomed, cut in the two-length style that skateboarders had made the rage. Truth was, I never could skateboard; I just liked how it looked. Funny, my eyebrows weren't the same color as my hair; they've always been quite a bit darker, but they really showed off the blue of my eyes. (Well, that's what my girlfriend used to say.) I was pretty tall for a 16 year old, about five foot ten, and I was still growing, though in height only. I was thin, though that was an understatement. I was skinny, or at least I thought so, and we all know how we are our own worst critic. I really used to get sick of hearing people tell me, "I wish I could eat like you and stay that thin." Well, fuck you.

I had a girlfriend, but it was nothing really serious. Most of the guys I knew had been fucking girls for a year, some of them two. I hadn't done it once. Proverbially, I hadn't even made it to first base; and, strangely enough, I really hadn't wanted to. I was happy just having friends. I had quite a few friends, at school and at the office building I worked in after school. I was leading a pretty normal life, and I didn't have any problems with it.

Now that's a lie. Looking back, I had tons of problems. Most of them, just your ordinary, stupid teenager problems. I hated the way I looked, I hated that I wasn't super popular, I hated the fact that girls who put out wouldn't even give the time of day. I was a kid, plain and simple. When you're 16, you're a kid, there's no question about that. A kid with insignificant kid concerns. You know, there's something kind of magical about that; there really is. When you're adult, you worry too much; when you're a kid, you worry too much -- the difference is in what you worry about.

Now, I was ready for a pretty average day. I was going to work at the firm. I always liked the sound of that -- "the firm". It sounded so . . . professional. It was a law firm, one of the many in my area, though I think it might have been the largest. There were five full fledged partners, and seventeen or eighteen associates. I liked working there. It kind of inspired me. I used to watch "LA Law" all the time, and I thought it would be cool to be a lawyer. I loved to argue, what the hell. Seemed like a great way to make money. (Though now I know better, being an actor who plays a lawyer would be much more fun!) Actually, I sort of identified with Benny from that series. I did the same kind of work, and I, too, was a loner, though for differing reasons.

So I get to work just a little after noon; it was a Friday, and that meant there was very little to do. Lawyers, like most businessmen were very eager to head home for the weekend, putting off as much work as possible until Monday. There's this clapping sound when I get there, and I can hear people's voices, excited about something. Walking through the doors, I was surprised to see a party happening. Not a party with streamers and balloons and stuff, but a celebration.

"Hey, Josh. How's it going?" Michael was walking over to me. He was a really nice guy. One of the head partners here. He was in his early forties, though he looked younger. He and my father played racquetball on Wednesdays, and it was he who helped secure me this job. "Looks like you got here just in time."

"What's going on?" I asked. After all, this doesn't happen every day here. Sure, we have fun sometimes, but never this.

"We got ourselves a new associate. Young guy, just graduated from Hofstra."

"Hofstra?"

"Yeah."

"Then what's he doing out here? There must've been a dozen law firms in New York that would've hired him."

Michael gave me a look, not a puzzled look, or a surprised look, but a look. "You know, you're starting to sound like a lawyer. We gotta keep you away from here."

I turned in time to see Carilyn walking by. She gave me a polite nod, and I returned it with a small "Hi". She was what people referred to as drop dead gorgeous! When I first started at the firm, I used to think she was some ditzy airhead who got the job because she let everyone screw her. But, after a while, I knew that she had a brain, she did use it, and she didn't let everyone screw her. After all, I was still a virgin.

"Sixteen years old, and he's ready to try cases." I turned back to continue listening to Michael. "There's the new decoration now." Quizzically, I turned my head.

There he was. The world's best looking guy. I had never really thought about guys as being good looking or anything. I had never done those things like jerking off with a friend in the shed, or experimental touching. I had done nothing. But this guy . . . even the straightest guy in the world knows when a guy is good looking. He won't come out and say "Hey, look at him, he's got good looks", but they know. And I knew. He was good looking.

"Twenty-three years old. Can you believe that? He graduated a year early in high school. Youngest associate. Probably be the youngest partner, too." There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as well as a touch of fear. But I really wasn't paying attention.

There were people congratulating him, shaking his hand and stuff, like he was some sort of hero. I was pretty relieved, though. There would be even less work than usual today. I knew I'd be bored, so I excused myself and walked over to the table they had set up with food and drinks. I took a bottle of juice, some sort of berry blend. It was healthy, and though you wouldn't know it from the way I looked, I did eat and drink healthy stuff. I had given up drinking soda, which was pretty damn hard, especially for a kid. I took my juice and went to sit down at one of the counters next to the message carts. I kind of just sat there for a while, doing nothing but sipping my drink. I liked doing that. Made you look older.

The party lasted for about a half hour, forty-five minutes after that. Mr. Simon, he was the senior partner, announced early closing for anyone who wanted to leave. It seemed that just about every associate walked through those doors seconds after Mr. Simon finished speaking the last words. The partners followed soon after. I was getting ready to leave, just saying a couple of goodbyes to those I knew, when Mr. Simon approached me.

"Mr. Stewart, could I see you in my office for a moment?" He had never spoken to me since he first hired me. Never. Not that he was unfriendly, but I was there for a few hours, five at the most, a day, and not every day. He just didn't come across me in the day to day situations. In fact, I'm sure that he must have greeted me on occasion, though I don't remember. But now, this. My face must have turned the palest shade of white, because that's exactly how I felt. I thought I was going to pass out. And just because he asked to speak to me.

I walked quickly, but cautiously, into his office, as if there was someone hiding to shoot me as I entered. "Have a seat, Mr. Stewart," his hand outstretched toward a very comfortable looking chair. "Thank you," I responded, and sat myself in the chair.

"Now, Mr. Stewart --" It seemed to take forever for the words to come out, syllables stretched on for minutes. It was if my eyes were zooming in on his mouth, and my ears were hearing in slow motion. "I know that I haven't taken the time to become acquainted with you, or any of the other messengers in the firm for that matter."

I was stunned. "That's all right," was all I was able to say. It came out as a part stutter, and a part choke. The urge to clear my throat remained.

"I'm sure that you have heard about our newest associate."

"Yes." There was nothing else for me to say. To Michael, I would have said something witty, or adult, but to Mr. Simon, it was just "Yes".

"He'll be starting on Monday, and he's going to need help getting around. He's not going to know how to send messages around, or where the rooms are, that sort of thing."

"Uh-huh." Boy, was I eloquent tonight!

"Well, I just want you to be sure that you help him if he needs it. Remember, you'll know this place better than he will."

"Okay."

"Just be there if he gets stuck. That's all."

"I understand, Mr. Simon."

"Good." He nodded. "Michael tells me that you're hoping to study law."

"I had thought about it." No commitment.

"That's good. Maybe someday, I'll be asking a messenger boy to help you out this way too."

"I hope so."

"Well." It wasn't an introduction to a sentence, it was a sentence, a sort of "Okay, time to get out" sentence. I rose from the chair.

"Oh, and one other thing." Again, my heart froze. "Brad's going to need some help moving his things into his office. I have to be going, and since you're the only messenger left, heck, you're probably the only one left, could you just give him a quick hand carrying some boxes?"

"Oh, of course." My heart had thawed out.

"Great." He smiled, and picked up his briefcase, sliding it halfway off the desk before lifting it. I turned, and began walking out. "Have a good day, Mr. Stewart."

"Thank you. You too, sir." Again, he smiled, then sailed around the corner and through the double glass doors that led to the hallway, and freedom. I heard voices that I can only assume were his and this Brad, for seconds later, he walked through the doors.

"You must be Josh." His voice was bold, but not loud. In his arms, he cradled a large cardboard box.

"Yes, I am. It's nice to meet you, Brad," and then quickly correcting myself, embarrassed at my words, "I, mean, Mr. uh --"

"Brad's fine. That is my name." He was smiling, as I followed him into his office. He placed the box down on the floor next to a group of others resting under the solitary window. It wasn't that bad of an office, a little small, but for a first year associate, not bad at all. There was a desk on the left side of the room, the window against the far wall, though not that far from the end of the desk. There was room for two chairs in front of the desk, but they weren't in there yet. And a couch, a small one, was pushed against the right wall.

"Should I go get a box?"

"Nope, that was the last one." There was a pause as he surveyed the room. "For now, anyway."

Great, I had no idea what to do then. After all, I was here to help him carry his boxes and he was already done. But I just couldn't walk out. "So, you went to Hofstra." It was more of a statement than a question, since I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I did." There was no accent to his voice. "Pretty good school. I liked it a lot."

"I was thinking about going there."

"For law?" He had had his back to me, but now he turned.

"Yeah."

"It's a good school. You'll have fun. That's for sure." Yup, now I knew what it meant to be bored. I was rocking on my heels so much, I though I was going to make indentations in the ground. He had sat down behind his desk, and was looking up at me. I wonder if he knew how uncomfortable I felt. It was uncomfortable because I knew nothing to say to him. "So where's a good club around here?"

A good club!? What the hell was he asking me for? "I don't know. I'm not old enough to get in."

"Yeah, but a fake i.d., and you're all set."

"It's kind of hard to get a fake i.d. when your'e sixteen." Not that I had tried or anything; I wouldn't have known where to go.

"Sixteen? Jeez, I thought you were eighteen, at least."

'Yeah, right' I thought to myself. I get carded when I try getting into an R-rated movie. And he thinks I'm eighteen?

"So what do you do around here for fun?" He was really polite.

"Aah, go out with friends, go to the movies, shopping, play tennis, whatever."

"You play tennis?" I nodded. "So do I. Maybe we could play some time."

"Sure." There was another pause, a long one. I didn't know what to say. It was like being alone, though you know someone's watching you. It was spooky.

"Everyone's gone, huh?"

"Yeah, cleared out of here when Mr. Simon said they could leave." He was rising from behind the desk.

"Ususally get out so fast?"

"Naw, some of them stay real late, but never on Friday." He nodded. He was still behind the desk, and I could see him looking at me. "They like to get out as soon as they can."

"What about you?"

"Depends. If I'm needed, I stay."

"That's good. I'll have to remember that." He was out from the desk now, and what he was doing totally surprised me. His hand was moving around his crotching, fondling his dick and balls. I couldn't believe it. I had played with myself once, but no one was there, no one saw me. "I get so worked up after a hard day at work, don't you?" He was standing almost directly in front of me.

"Yeah." I managed to stammer. "Sometimes." I had no idea what I was saying. And then I felt it. His hand moved from his crotch to mine.

"Let's see if Josh is worked up today." I couldn't move. I didn't know if I wanted to or not, but I was frozen. His hand glided along my jeans, every so often closing in like a pinch. "Looks like you're getting worked up now." His eyes were right in front of me.

My lungs were taking in air like a drowning man -- the deeper I inhaled, the less air I actually took in. I wasn't nervous. I was scared. This wasn't something I had even thought would happen, not in my wildest dreams. Thoughts were racing through my mind so fast, I thought I would die.

Then I noticed. He had moved away from me, and was standing at the window, looking out at the skyline. He didn't move for the longest time, though it was probably only a matter of seconds. And then he turned, and faced me.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I should never have done that."

I didn't have a clue as to what to say.

"I promise; it'll never happen again." He stretched out his hand in an apologetic move. As before, I had nothing to say. I just stood there. But I had to say something. So I shook his hand.

"It's okay." That was dumb. Or was it? It hadn't felt that bad, except for the incredible fear.

"It's just, well, I was on that flight for so long. And there was all the packing before hand. And trips to the bank, the post office, the dry cleaners. I've done so much in the last forty-eight hours, I wanted a break. But I shouldn't have done that to you."

"So you do it with guys, huh?" I couldn't believe it. I was really venturing here.

"Yeah. Young guys though. No one older than me." There was a pause as he looked at me curiously. "How 'bout you? Ever do it with a guy?"

I shook my head. "No." He nodded.

"I didn't think so. Well, hey, you should be running along. No need for you to stay here. I'm all set."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll see you on Monday."

"Okay. See ya." I turned, and walked out of his office and down the hall to the main room. I pushed the glass doors aside, and stepped out into the hall, and toward the elevators.

Okay. I'm having an identity crisis.

I pushed the down button, and it lit up underneath my finger. I could hear the wrenching sounds of the elevator cables jumping into motion.

Oh boy, this is wrong.

Seconds later, the doors opened. A man in a dark blue blazer was standing at the back of the compartment. I stood there, not looking at him, but almost through him. "Are you coming or not?" The man obviously wanted to go home. I flicked my wrist up, and puleld the collar away. My watch read 3:38. "Ayah, forget it," he said, as he pushed a button, and the doors began to close.

I have plenty of time.

The <KA-CHUNK> of the elevator rang through my ears as I turned and started off down the hallways, pushing my way through the glass doors, turning the corner, and walking down the hall. His office door was closed, and I thought he had left, but something told me he hadn't, and something told me he would be happy to see me back here.

This is it, Josh old-boy.

My hand reached for the doorknob, turned it quickly, and sent the door open. Brad was laying on the couch, his pants down around his knees, his hand wrapped around his cock, which was hard and sticking straight up. Okay, maybe he wouldn't be that glad to see me. He jumped up, almost falling off the couch, and quickly pulled his pants up, managing to tuck in about half of his shirt before he zipped the fly, and buttoned the button.

"Did you forget something, Josh?"

"No. I came back." Well, obviously I came back. He could see.

"What did you come back for?"

"To try it with another guy." Brad's face lit up like a christmas tree.

"I hope I didn't put any pressure on you."

"Well, you did. But it felt really good. I was scared, but it felt good."

"Josh, I can show you things that will feel even better." He came towards me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I decided to take the iniative. I moved my face toward his, until my mouth was pressed against his, my tongue slowly, but surely, making its way into his mouth. It was so soft and warm. Our tongues came together, and my head moved in rhythm. It was he who broke away.

Panting for breath, "Josh, I think I'm going to like working here." He was serious, too. And so was I.

I lowered myself to my knees, and brought my hand up to his zipper, first unbuttoning the button that rested above it, and then pulling the metal zipper down to the bottom. My hands reached around his waist, pulling the tucked-in parts of his shirt out. His pants fell to the ground, and I was looking at a very nice pair of white Calvin Klein briefs that were partially covered by the ends of his shirt. I brought my face in, and my tongue darted across the soft cloth. Brad shifted position, but I knew he was comfortable. My hands came up again, and took the tops of his bikini briefs and slowly pulled them down the length of his legs. I was level with his shins,and when I looked up, all I could see was his cock hanging down.

Something was happening to me. I couldn't wait to have that cock in my mouth. I wanted to suck it more than anything else ever. And I did.

I lifted myself back up, and picked up his dick with my tongue, carrying it into my mouth. It tasted so good; it was like nothing I had ever tasted before. I began licking it, holding it prisoner in my mouth. But before long, I couldn't keep it in. It was growing, more and more. He was hard now, and boy was he stacked. I knew that my cock was just under six inches, and I knew that this one was bigger than that. I started sucking, pushing my face in and out, back and forth, my tongue gliding underneath his cock. Brad was going crazy. His hands were on my head, holding me there. Like I was going anywhere!

I was sucking, as hard and as fast as I could. My right hand was searching inside my pants, while my left hand held onto Brad's balls, which hung like apples on a tree branch. Coming up for breath, I moved onto his balls, taking the left one in first, rolling it around my mouth, then taking the right one by itself, doing the same to it. I got off my knees, and sat down instead. His balls were hanging over me, and I looked up, and brought them both into my mouth, chomping on them like a little kid. It was driving Brad wild.

All of a sudden, I could feel vibrations, and I thought it was an earthquake! But then, I felt wet. I looked up to see Brad's cock shooting streams of cum in the air. It landed on my face in plops. I let his balls go, as he crumpled to the couch.

"Josh," he was almost out of breath, "that was the best suck I've ever gotten. You sure you've never done this before?"

"Positive," I said, smiling. "But I know it won't be the last time."

"Sounds good to me. Now let's see what we can do for your cock."

Brad pulled me over, and unzipped my pants, pulling them and my green bikini briefs down. I stepped out of them, and unbuttoned my shirt, while he did the same. We were both naked, except for the socks we wore. His were low cut, and white, totally plain. Mine were white too, reaching up over my shin, and they had an insignia in silver at the top.

Brad's hand came toward me, grasping my cock which had already begun to get hard. His hand ran up and down, up and down the length of my cock. Stroking, ever so slowly. It felt so great. I closed my eyes, and my head leaned backward. Then my cock was wet, filled tightly in Brad's mouth. His tongue was running over my entire cock; his saliva was dripping out.

"Now, the other side." I didn't quite know what he meant, but he turned me around, his hand running up and down my back. "Stand on the couch, over me." I did. "Bend your legs a little, and lean over some." I did that too. It was like a small prick as his hot tongue touched my the corner of my ass hole. Then it moved in, moving not in and out, but around, in a swirling motion. It was my turn to be driven crazy, and boy, was I. I had never felt anything remotely like this -- I hadn't even thought of anything like this.

"Oh, yeah." I was moaning. Really moaning, in delight. And why shouldn't I? This was great. Nobody had ever told me that having sex with another guy would feel like this. If they had, I would have lost my virginity sooner. But, I think this was a great way to lose it.

"Ready for something else?" His voice was filled with excitement, echoing how my body felt.

"Sure." I was ready. I didn't know what for, but I was ready. I trusted Brad, though I had only known him for less than an hour. He had made me feel good so far, and apparently, I was making him feel good too.

Brad got up off the couch, and walked over to his pile of boxes. He bent over, and picked up a box, moving it aside. I walked over to him and ran my hand over his ass. It wiggled, in delight, I assumed. He was digging through a box, finding what he was looking for -- a small plastic bottle, like a trial size of shampoo.

He said nothing, but his eyebrows arched up. He grabbed my cock with his free hand and pulled me over to the couch. "Bend over, buddy." I still wasn't quite sure, but I bent over, resting my hands on the couch. I looked beneath my legs, and saw Brad squirting some clear gel into his hand, which he then slicked around his dick. The sounds of his hand sliding the length of his long, and very hard, cock was exciting me immensely.

"Hold on." His hands moved to both sides of my waist, holding me tightly. He had wiped the stuff off his hand, and his warm hands were now holding me in place. "You're going to like this." His hands gripped harder, as the tip of his cock met my asshole. It just touched, and didn't penetrate. It was slippery, moving back and forth on my ass cheeks. This went on for several seconds, before he again pressed his cock head to my hole. His right hand left my side, circling his cock, which he began pushing in my ass.

It hurt! A lot. The head of his cock was stretching me inside. I could feel it. My ass tightened around his cock, and he continued pushing, though to no avail.

"Loosen up, guy. I can't get it in there if you're that tight!"

I tried loosening up, but I couldn't. My ass wouldn't loosen. He was too big for me; I wasn't too small for him.

"You gotta loosen up. Release your ass, like you're taking a shit."

I pushed like I was taking a shit, and with one great push, he had shoved his entire cock up my ass. I thought it hurt before, but now, it was even worse! My entire ass was stretched to its limit, or so I thought. Slowly, Brad began pulling it out, until it was almost withdrawn. My ass felt relieved, except, now I wanted it back in! And as if he could read my mind, he pushed his cock back in. This time, there was no pain. A little discomfort, but the pleasure more than made up for it. More than made up for it.

Brad had replaced his hand on my waist, his fingers pushing in towards my abdomen. He was pushing it in and out several times. I folded my arms, lying them on the couch, resting my head on my arms. I was face down, but my eyes could still see Brad shoving his cock in and out. But then, he began moving me. Instead of pushing and removing his cock, he began pulling me onto his cock, and then off it again.

I thought I was going to explode. My cock was hard as a rock, swollen, and ready to blow its top. I loved it. I loved having his dick in me. But I wanted more. I wanted something else. I wasn't sure what. "Brad, fuck me. Fuck me harder." I really wanted it. Wanted it bad.

And I was getting it. Brad grabbed my sides so tightly, it hurt. And his dick was pumping faster and deeper now. My mouth was wide open, gaping in ecstasy. Brad's hand left my side, and came down, smacking my left ass cheek. It stung, but it felt so good.

"Take it. Take my dick, man." He was pumping harder, his balls slamming against my ass cheeks. "You like it up there, don't you?" SMACK! This time my right cheek.

"Awwwwwww. Fuck me. Keep fucking me."

"Whatever you want, kid." To my surprise though, he withdrew from me. Stepping over to the desk, his naked arm swept away eveything from the top. A few sheets a paper remained, which he brushed away with his hand. Then his hand moved to his cock, jerking it. "Whatever you want."

I smiled, and jumped up from the couch. I walked over to the desk, a little awkwardly. It was the like the time I rode a horse for the first time. He was jerking his rod faster, the the head of his cock swollen and red. His free hand patted the desk, and I knew what he meant. I jumped up on the desk.

"Lay down."

I did as I was told. Laying on my back, my right hand moving towards my dick, beginning to jerk in rhythm with Brad. His hand continued on his cock, as he leaned over and began licking my cock; not sucking, but licking, like a kid with his lollipop. After a few licks, Brad straightened up. My legs had been hanging off the end of the desk, but now Brad lifted them up. His hands moved downward, holding my feet. He pushed them up, so that my feet were even with shoulders, and my asshole was spread wide open.

"Take it, Josh. Let me shove it up your tight ass."

"Yeah."

It was then that I noticed how gorgeous his body was. He was a little taller than I. He had dark brown hair, very dark. His eyes were exactly opposite, a very light brown, but not quite hazel. He had a very defined body. His chest was smooth with little tufts of hair around his nipples which were hard and inviting. His body was sleek and tapered off in a "V" at his waist, which was muscular. A cock, at least eight inches long, sprouted out from a bush of dark pubic hair. His balls were big, but not too large, hanging nicely under the dick. His legs were slim, but muscular, with a little hair on each.

His dick was fucking the hell out of me. I was sliding on the desk, back and forth. Thank God it was varnished, or else I would either be splintered or friction burned. Anyway, I was sliding on and off his cock, and loving every minute of it. He was obviously having a good time, as well, from the look on his face.

I could feel cum stirring in my balls. His constant slamming was exciting me to orgasm, and finally, I shot my load all over myself. Spurts of cum landed all across my chest, some landed on my chin, just narrowly missing my mouth, and the last shots made it just over my pubic hair. There were droplets of cum oozing down my nipples, and some were slipping down from my navel down into my hair, and back to my cock.

Brad was amazed that I had come so soon. "Oh man, look at all the cum. Even I can't shoot that much!"

Brad moved my feet to on top of his shoulders, then leaned over, putting his hands by my sides. His tongue came out, pushing its way into my mouth. Our tongues met, twisting around each other. Our faces were mashed together, and I could feel my cock getting larger once again.

Brad's lips let go of mine. He was still moving his cock in and out, but it was much slower now, more relaxed. His right hand lifted from the desk. Slowly, his fingers traced their way across my chest, circling my nipples, and down to my navel. Up and back down. Swirling the cum all around my body. I could do nothing but sigh contentedly.

"How about some of this?" His finger lifted from my body, and came up to my lips. My tongue darted out, licking my cum off his finger. Then I sucked his figner deep into my mouth. That's when the pumping increased. He was deep-dicking me once again. And I was going strong on his finger. I had his dick up my ass, and his finger in my mouth; I was totally naked, my cock was a raging hard-on . . . and I never wanted this to end.

Then he pulled out again. "No, man. Keep fucking me."

Brad had a devilish smile played across his lips. "You want it, its yours. Get up." I got up off the desk. Brad hopped up on the desk with youthful exuberance, then stretched out, laying on his back. I walked over to him, and grabbed his cock. I jerked him off as he laid there, groaning and moaning. "Climb up here, Josh. Ride me."

I needed no second invitation. I climbed up on the desk, my feet planted just below his armpits. He grabbed my ass, as I lowered it down on his cock. This was the best way yet! It filled me up like it hadn't before. Brad started playing my tits, kneading them, rolling them around. I was in ecstasy! I was bouncing up and down on it. "Aww man, I can feel you in my stomach." It was fantastic, like when I was back riding that horse.

Brad was breathing real heavily now. Moaning loudly, his thrusting became erratic. Coupled with my bobbing up and down, he was going out of his mind. Suddenly, his moans turned to cries, and a split second later, I felt a pressure hit me inside, then wetness. He was shooting his load right up my ass. I was still bouncing and my somewhat flaccid dick sprang to life, spraying Brad with cum.

We collapsed. I fell down on top of him, my face burying itself in Brad's side. Gently, I licked his armpit. He was sweaty from the workout, and I was glad to be a part of it. I lifted myself up a little.

"That was magnificent." I leaned down and kissed his right nipple, then his left, moving the hairs around.

"I've only done it twice before with a guy."

I was shocked. "Only twice?! You sure know what you like."

"So do you." He was smiling. "And I like that."

After a few minutes, we dressed (after a few more licks and sucks) and got ready to go.

"I'll see you Monday, kid."

"Yeah," I said. "I can't wait."

"What time are you working?"

"I'll be here from ten to five."

"So you'll be getting a lunch?"

I nodded yes.

"Well, be sure to come by for some dessert." He was a mischievous one.

"No problem."

"And if you want, meet me in the library after five. Maybe we can do this again."

"Sounds good to me." I gave him a quick kiss, and walked out the doors, a very happy kid.