He Sucked My Little Cock And Let Me Suck His Too

It was just a summer job in between college semesters many years ago, but it was a learning experience and one that helped the younger man realize that some of the things he enjoyed that he thought strange were things that others enjoyed as well.

*****

“You okay, Tim?” my boss asked me as we sat under the tree after eating lunch. “Heat getting to you?”

“No sir, I’m okay,” I replied, but that wasn’t really true because I was light-headed.

Part of that feeling might have been due to the temperature, which was probably close to 90, but I worked in the heat of the day on a regular basis and had become used to it.

The primary reason for the way I was feeling was the man who was rising up from the grass and brushing off his shorts. The man was my employer, Mr. House, and in the few weeks I had been working for him and his construction company, I had developed a bit of a crush on the middle-aged man.

It was more than a bit of a crush, to be honest. I had become infatuated with the man, and since he was fond of working right along with his help, that gave me a lot of opportunity to be with him. I tried not to let my feelings show, because I sensed that kind of thing wouldn’t go over well with a bunch of laborers who were mostly a bunch of stereotypical macho guys.

Mr. House, Chuck to almost everybody except me, was macho as well, but not in a stupid way. He was intelligent and had a sense of humor, but it wasn’t his mind that drew me to him, it was his body. It’s safe to say that there weren’t many men pushing 50 who were built like Mr. House.

After I graduated high school, I had decided that I was tired of being a pudgy kid and had made a effort to improve the way I looked. It had worked very well, and in addition to losing the extra pounds I had ended up with a fairly muscular body.

Nothing like Mr. House though, because his 6’2″ frame looked like it was chiseled from stone. He might had weighed about 200 pounds, but if there was an ounce of fat on him I couldn’t see it, and believe me when I say that I looked.

It was tough enough trying not to look at this man at work when he was wearing a tank top and work pants, but the way he was dressed today – shirtless and wearing only shorts and sneakers – was sweet torture for me.

Mr. House had asked me if I was interested to making a little extra money that weekend, helping him work around this summer camp he had upstate, and I jumped at the chance. The money would come in handy for books come fall, but the best part would be to spend time with him.

“Don’t mention this to any of the other fellas,” he had said and I agreed, partly because I didn’t like many of them and besides they thought I was a kiss-ass as it was.

Mr. House picked me up that Saturday morning, and I was shocked when he arrived on a motorcycle. I don’t know what was scarier, taking my first ride on the back of a bike or having to be that close to my boss. It gave me a chance to make a lot of physical contact with him, and it wasn’t the vibration of the cycle that had my dick hard for the 40 mile ride.

When we got there anbd started working, Mr. House took off his t-shirt and encouraged me to do the same. My body was only a little tan, except for my arms, which had gotten a lot more color, but Mr. House’s upper torso was bronze all over, the deep brown hue even more noticeable when his shorts would dip as he worked and revealed the creamy white skin below.

“Don’t wear a shirt up here much,” he had explained when I mentioned his tan, but seeing him without his shirt was way too much of a good thing, and I wondered whether my erection was ever going to leave.

Mr. House not only had massive arms, which I was already aware of, but his chest was broad and muscular and his waist was probably smaller than mine. The pectorals made him look like the Incredible Hulk, and the nice coating of dark brown hair on his chest only added to his appeal.

“We’ll get you tan by the end of the summer,” Mr. House assured me, and when he put his hand on my shoulder my heart started to race.

We did a lot of fairly easy stuff that morning, mostly clearing some land and picking up around the outside of the cabin, and as we worked it occurred to me that Mr. House might have just had me come up here with him for company, since we hadn’t done anything that really needed two pairs of hands.

I did get to talk with him a lot, and I learned that although Mr. House was wearing a wedding ring he was no longer married, laughing and explaining that “Irreconcilable differences” were the cause.

“Couldn’t get the thing off anyway,” he said of the ring that was embedded in his hairy ring finger. “My advice to you Tim is don’t get married. Play the field for as long as you can, and I’ll bet you get your pick of the litter, looking like you do.”

“Nah,” I said, blushing, but I wasn’t all that great looking even with the muscles I had grown.

I still had the baby face that made me look younger than my 19 years, and while I suppose that I could have done okay with girls, I had learned that I liked guys a whole lot more, especially older men like Mr. House.

I got to my feet along with my boss, and watched as Mr. House looked at a low hanging limb above his head, commenting that when he had come up here when he folks had bought the place in his youth, he used to hang from that limb and try to do chin ups.

“Wonder if I still can?” he wondered aloud, reaching up and taking hold of the limb, and after he effortlessly lifted himself up for a couple of chin-ups he dropped back down, laughing and commenting, “Not bad for an old man.”

I nodded, wishing I had a camera as he jumped up and did it again. The way his bronze biceps bulged as he raised himself up with his shoulders and chest muscles rippling, all combined to make my dick drool but there was something that got me even hotter.

His armpits. I had noticed myself being attracted to that particular part of the male anatomy for as long as I could remember. although I was quite reluctant to admit it in words. Once I was with a guy though, in the heat of the moment there was no need to verbalize.

As Mr. House hung there and did his chin-ups, I tried not to focus on those bushy hollows and that should have been no problem given the rest of his body, but this – getting to stare at his armpits instead of taking little glances from time to time – might not have been as subtle as I thought.

I was standing next to him, and as I kept leering at those thick tufts of hair surrounded by muscle I was dying to take a couple of steps forward and bury my face under his arm. The guy was so cool that he hardly broke a sweat as he did those chin-ups, although perspiration wouldn’t have fazed me a bit. I, on the other hand, was dripping wet just watching my boss.

“You try it, Tim,” Mr. House said after he finished, and although I tried to get out of it he insisted, telling me that he didn’t think I could do more than he had. Finally, the thought of getting to show myself off a bit proved too much for me.

I had to jump up to grab the limb, and as I started to raise myself up it occurred to me that a year ago when I was pudgy and weak I couldn’t have even done one chin-up. Now my only concern was hoping that my boner wasn’t showing in my shorts.

“Four – five,” Mr. House said, his eyes watching me as he counted, and when I was about to pass the number he had done he announced., “Oh oh, can’t have you winning.”

Mr. House reached over and tickled me under the arms just as I was about to go ahead of him, and the surprise of feeling his fingers sliding through my drenched and practically hairless armpits caused me to lose my grip and drop down.

“I win,” Mr. House declared as we laughed, and I was surprised when I didn’t cum when he did that to me. “Better get back to work.”

We headed down toward the camp, but before we got there Mr. House squinted up at the sun nearly straight above us, and after saying that it was probably going to hit 100 today, went over to a box on the porch and took out a tube of suntan lotion.

“Don’t want you getting burned,” he declared. “Let’s get some of this on us.”

After Mr. House went behind me while squirting some of the cool liquid onto his hands before working it into my hot back and shoulders, I was ready to declare this the greatest day of my life, and after he oiled my back I was wondering whether he would let me do the same to him.

“Might as well finish the job,” Mr House said, and to my shock he came around and started spreading the lotion on my chest.

I had my eyes fixed on the cabin behind Mr. House, trying not to look at his beefy hands running over my chest and stomach because I was on the verge of either fainting or having an orgasm.

“You said you just started with the weights recently, Tim?” he asked while oiling my smooth chest, and I nodded while wondering whether he could feel my heart like this.

“I still tinker around with them myself,” he told me, and then told me to lift my arms.

“You compete in bodybuilding competitions I assume?” Mr. House said as he massaged my armpits with the lotion. “I used to shave my armpits back when I did too.”

I nodded, but I didn’t shave to compete in any bodybuilding contests. The few hairs that had been under my arms had been plucked out by a kinky professor who had playfully decided that I would look better without them. Since then, all that had grown in my deep pockets was a tiny bit of peach fuzz that was barely visible.

Mr. House seemed to enjoy what he was doing, while I tried to remain perfectly still for fear just the movement of my underwear against my dick would have me cumming.

“You like this?” Mr. House asked as his fingers continued to lightly massage my moist pits.

“Uh – yeah – this is a neat place,” I mumbled as my heart raced.

“No, I meant what I’m doing to you,” he explained. “Underarms are a very neglected erogenous zone, don’t you think? I love how smooth yours are. Just a tiny bit of hair in the center. You can hardly see it, much less feel it.”

“Uh – yes,” I mumbled while I shivered while feeling his eyes on me while looking for my reaction.

“You’re right about the place too. It’s very secluded. Up here, you can stare at someone and not have to worry about others noticing. Not like at work.”

“Huh?” I said, the ecstasy of what Mr. House was doing causing me to lose track of what he was saying.

“At work. The way you stare at me. I’m very flattered but you might want to be a bit more careful,” he cautioned as he handed me the lotion. “I think the other fellows are starting to notice.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I fumbled with the cap of the lotion, and then I was behind Mr. House, my trembling hands oiling up his muscular back as I did something I hadn’t even dreamed about doing in real life.

The lotion made his already well defined muscles stand out even more and I took my time, trying to figure out what was going on. Was Mr. House teasing me or was he coming on to me? I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.

“That’s nice,” Mr. House said as I reached the top of his shorts, and as he slowly turned around he added, “But you’re only half done.”

My vision was clouded, my eyes blurry from the sweat the poured down into them as well as my reaction to what was going on. The creamy lotion stood out starkly against Mr. House’s hairy chest, and as I worked the oil into Mr. House’s rock hard body he sighed.

“You can’t be cold,” Mr. House commented, smiling as he looked at my visibly shaking hands running through his furry pecs.

“Nervous – excited,” I stammered.

“Me too, believe it or not,” Mr. House admitted while reaching over and giving my nipples a tweak. “Those irreconcilable differences I spoke of regarding my ex-wife?”

“Yes?” I croaked.

“Actually they weren’t really differences,” he explained as he raised his arms and linked his fingers behind his head. “You see, it turned out that she had a thing for younger men… and so did I.”

“Go ahead,” he whispered as he saw me staring at his bushy armpits.

I dropped the tube of suntan lotion, having no intention of using it like Mr. House had to me. Instead I leaned forward and buried my face into the muscled hollow, and although he was taken aback back by the enthusiasm of what I did, the way he groaned as he put other hand on the back of my head told me all I needed to know.

“Ooh – that’s so good Tim,” he sighed as I licked at the thick jungle, the musky manly aroma and taste sending shivers down my spine as I played with his plump nipples, and after moving to Mr. House’s other armpit and chewing like a feral animal, Mr. House pulled me away.

“You are a nasty boy,” he said with a smile. “How nasty can you get?”

“As nasty as you want me to be,” I answered as he brought me into his cabin.

***

The cabin was very sparsely furnished, with none of the comforts of home. A table with a couple of chairs, a stove that ran on propane and a fireplace, but most importantly, a bed, and it was there that we headed.

We had very few clothes to shed, and after kicking our sneakers off Mr. House was pulling down my shorts as we neared the bed. As he grabbed the elastic of my tight-whitey, my erection went away for the first time all day.

I had gone limp in part because my underwear were dripping with pre-cum that had been pouring out of me, but the main reason would be that the next moment was something I would always dread, as my shortcomings would be revealed.

After Mr. House yanked down the sticky shorts, I watched for his reaction and seeing my twig and berries, but while he did a bit of a double take as most men did, he didn’t laugh and if he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

The second my back hit the bedding Mr. House was all over me, taking both of my balls in his mouth at once and sucking hard on the sac. Looking down between my legs and seeing the top of my boss’s head and my erect dick pointing back at me, I knew I had no chance.

I didn’t even get a chance to try and stop Mr. House, or even slow his down as his gobbling my nuts made me cum. Helplessly I watched my little cannon spurt jets of cum into the air before plopping down onto my stomach and chest, while my body convulsed with the force of my orgasm.

“Sorry,” Mr. House said after he looked up and saw what had happened.

“No – it’s me. I have no self control, especially with a man like you,” I confessed, and he was smiling as he began moving up over me, his nearly erect manhood swaying as he inched his way up my body to offer his cock to me.

I had seen bigger cocks before, not that 7 or so inches was anything to sneeze at, but none quite like the tool that was on his way to my face because the head on Mr. House’s manhood was enormous. His cock looked like an apple on a stick in a way, with the shaft fairly normal but the bulbous glans making the rest of his dick pale in comparison.

“You can just lick it if you want son,” Mr. House said, apparently seeing the expression on my face when I grabbed it and brought it to my lips, but I was nothing if not game for a challenge as I opened wide.

“Ah!” came the voice from above as I moved my lips down to the part of the knob right before the ridge and back up to the tip again, and he seemed quite happy with me jerking the shaft with my fist while sucking on most of the crown but I was just getting used to it.

“Whoa!” Mr. House howled when I got the whole glans in my mouth without teeth mauling it, and the popping sound it made when my mouth slipped back off was loud. “Damn!”

Pop – pop – pop went the rhythm as the fat knob went in and out, and while I couldn’t get much past the ridge I suspect it was a lot better than he was used to because pretty soon he was taking his cock out of my mouth and telling me to stick my tongue out.

I did as Mr. House asked and felt him rubbing the cleft at the underside of the knob on my tongue as his cock spat into my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could and soon he was just milking his cock and squeezing all the sap he could out of himself until he was dry.

“Incredible Tim!” Mr. House gushed after he collapsed down next to me. “I don’t know what to say other than that. I’m so used to cumming like that, rubbing it out, that I don’t think I can cum any other way. You okay?”

“Fine,” I said, although my jaws ached a lot, but nothing like they would the next day.

Tomorrow was the farthest thing from my mind because the man that was looking up at the ceiling beside me not only looked and felt great, he seemed to understand me or at least the things I liked so when I climbed up to my knees and straddled him I thought I could do anything I wanted.

“Feel our cocks rubbing together?” he asked as I held myself up by putting my hands on his chest.

I nodded because that was my intention when I had put my stuff on top of his spent organ which was laying on his stomach. My balls were rubbing against the roots on the underside of his cock as I started to lean on top of him, letting my hands slip upwards and taking his wrists with them until he was pinned under me.

What a feeling. Grinding my smooth chest over his hairy one, both of us as wet as if we were in the shower while our cocks got acquainted, but his armpits were what I wanted and when I buried my face in his right pit and ran my tongue up and down like his perspiration was nectar.

“Mmm… you like my sweaty armpits don’t you?” he groaned while our eyes met, and while my face might have been red it wasn’t because I was embarrassed. “That’s my boy – suck it. Chew it.”

I did while making noises that seemed to match what I was doing, and when I raised my head up the next time Mr. House was leaning his head over with his mouth open trying to get my tongue which I offered freely once I figured out his plan.

It felt like my boss was trying to swallow my tongue and the only reason he let go of it was so I could dive under her other arm. It felt like electricity was being sent up and down my spine as he indulged me in this primitive lust. Worship? Probably a good word for it.

My cock was dripping and seemed to be on the urge of shooting but I was never able to keep enough contact with my dick against his and I think Mr. House sensed this because he had me straighten up while still straddling him.

“Here – rub our cock heads together,” he said while holding his now semi-erect cock straight up in his right hand while holding the back of his neck with his left in trying to crane his head up enough to watch.

“Oh man!” I moaned as I rubbed the end of my dick into the groove of his, the feeling of our sensitive tips meeting only topped by the sight of the two absurdly differences. It was like rubbing a grape against an apple and instead of being humiliated the sight aroused me.

“Make it last,” Mr. House said. “Feels unreal.”

I tried but my dick was drooling all over his, and my sweat was pouring on Mr. House as well, making it all too slippery and pleasurable for me to stop spurting all over Mr. House.

I tried to make up for my lack of control by cleaning my cum off of Mr. House as best I could and by the time I was done he was nearly fully erect. When I started to suck on his tool again though, he stopped me.

“I want to save my last shot for a while,” Mr. House said as he eased me down onto my back and rolled onto his hip and faced me. “I want to ask you for something but – look, I understand if it’s not something you’re into or would be nervous about but…

“I know what you’re going to ask,” I said in interrupting. “And the answer is yes.”

“Are you sure Tim?” Mr. House asked, his voice very sincere, but as he spoke he was already scrambling out of bed and over to the desk in the corner, his stiff pole bouncing around wildly as he moved while trying to find the lube before I could change my mind.

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1 thoughts on “He Sucked My Little Cock And Let Me Suck His Too

  1. Joe Blow says:

    Oh how this reminds me of being yunger yung of my scoutmaster and his wife when it says that they both loved yunger Bois and both were home nudist and swingers and I was child they couldn’t have and trained me till I left for college and made me cumdump for college and today

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