Becoming a Cock Lover: Pt. 02

The persistence of cum.

That's one thing I truly was not prepared for in the hours and days following my dizzying public bathroom encounter with Bill. His demeanor and command indicated he was not the novice I was; perhaps he was used to this phenomenon.

In the aftermath of him fucking my throat and then gushing a huge load into my gullet, all I could focus on was the heavy, salty essence of his seed. For hours the back of my throat felt thick, like persistent phlegm. I drank water, I gargled, I bought a Coke out of the vending machine in the basement of the dorm.

And yet when I was in bed, looking up at the ceiling in the hazy gray of night, the coating was there in the back of my mouth, up near my sinuses, behind the root of my tongue. I reflexively swallowed every minute or so; it wouldn't clear. I imagined that his essence -- his living seed -- was embedding itself into my very tissue.

It didn't seem ludicrous or extreme. That magnificent cock had mesmerized me; the aroma of his crotch musk, the urgent fullness of his balls contrasting with the silky softness of his scrotum, the sweet tease of his precum -- all of that had me wishing I was still on my knees, servicing him without end.

I replayed every sensation: my own saliva flowing down my chin, the raunchy slurping and suction sounds as well as his grunts and dirty talk, the pressure of his spongy but rigid cock stretching my throat, and again, that unique deep organic body smell.

Lying there in bed, my mind drifted back to that scene, to how I felt as the stall door swung open and then closed and how I heard his sneakers squeak toward the restroom door on his way out, after he sucked me off and face-fucked me into a different dimension.

I don't know how long I sat on that toilet seat. I could still sense the emptiness of the room, the semi-darkness of the stall and the occasional ticks and groans of the wall radiator as warm water rushed in.

I felt serenely calm as fragments of visions, smells and tastes washed over me. Even a little bit dizzy. I'd fucked many girls and had hundreds of orgasms with them, but never felt disoriented like this.

Six hours later, here I was, wondering how I was going to go 6 days and focus on anything but getting my hands and mouth on that swollen shaft again.

That fixation came and went for the next week, starting with waking up to my alarm at 8 a. m. the next morning. The syrupy thickness was still at the base of my throat and now I had a feeling that wasn't exactly desire -- maybe guilt, maybe shame.

It may have been part guilt, it may have been the full light of day bleaching the memories a bit. Either way, I found it distracting me in class, in social time with dorm mates and even in alone time in my room or walking to the dining hall.

Several times, I started an internal debate in which I litigated whether this was a one-and-done or some base instinct that would draw me back that bathroom stall the next Tuesday, regardless of whatever my brain decided. The best discipline I could muster was to tell myself I didn't need to decide yet. But in many moments, the sight and feel and smell and taste of that gorgeous, imposing cock would crash right in and occupy my id.

"You want to suck that cock" was the voice that kept pushing through.

The following Tuesday evening, a crisp, cold and starry night, found me walking briskly from my computer class across the small diag, toward the English building. Toward that stall.

When I arrived, I saw the far door ajar and sneakers underneath, jeans pulled down across their tops. My heart raced and I impulsively swallowed. I knew the room was otherwise empty, but cast a quick glance around to be sure, then sidled up to the door and pushed it open.

Bill slowly pumped his shaft with his right hand, his plump balls in his left. He was leaning back, shoulders to the wall and an easy smile creasing his face.

"Have you thought about this at all?" he said, nodding at the purplish knob of his cock as his hand slid slowly up and down.

"I'll be honest -- I couldn't take my mind off of it. It's weird but..." I hesitated, feeling something between embarrassed and speechlessness.

"What? Do you regret it? I wouldn't think you'd be here if..."

"No," I interrupted. "Not that. It was like I tasted your cum all week. I'd wake up and swear I could smell your cock and balls."

Bill grinned and used his right hand to push up off the seat. He stood straight and close, and took my left hand in his right and pulled it into his crotch so I was cupping his plump balls. A wave of heat rose around us as he leaned in.

"I'm glad," he said, and leaned until his lips brushed mine. His tongue danced around the opening of my mouth as his hands unbuckled my belt and roughly shoved my jeans below my hips. We kissed deeply as his hands milked my cock, as mine worked his in return.

His hands cupped my ass and pulled me tighter. Our cocks went skin on soft skin, sliding about in precum as our tongues flicked over and around. He pulled away and we both sighed deeply. In a second his hands were on my shoulders, gently but insistently pushing me to my knees.

Seven days earlier in this position, my insides churned with anxiety, doubt and desire. Now, all I felt was hunger. My mouth, sloppy wet from kissing, slid over his engorged plum and his hands went to the back of my head. He sighed once more and then began grunting.

# # # # # # # # # #

Gradually his pace slackened, each thrust slower and not as deep. My eyes were watering and my nose running from the deep-throat thrusting of his rigid 8 inches. I was taking small gulps of the slurry of cum and slobber until his softening flesh plopped out of my mouth and slid off my chin.

I leaned onto my haunches and panted between swallows. My cock tingled in my hand, which was coated in the remnants of my own cumshot. The bulk of it had jetted against the porcelain and pooled on the floor between Bill's feet.

He sighed and ran his hand through my hair. "Damn, you suck cock like you were born to do it. I'm gay and I'm not even sure I'm that good."

I felt sheepish and confused -- flattered but also wondering why he had to say "gay" out loud. Funny, but I hadn't thought of it in terms of gay or straight. Just want or not.

"Thank you?" I said and chuckled. "And I've never had anyone suck my cock like you do."

"Mind if I piss?" he said.

"Uh... no," I said, a bit off-guard from the non sequitur. I struggled to stand in the small space, and he put his hands in my armpits and helped lift. I thanked him as he turned around to square up to the toilet.

As the stream hit the water he reached back with his right hand until he found mine.

"Come up, close," he said, pulling me into him. My sensitive cock nested into his ass crack as he pulled my hand around and placed it at the root of his cock. I felt the surge of urine as he stood back and let me direct it into the bowl.

Bill reached back with his left hand and pulled my head into the root of his neck under his left ear; I instinctively began kissing and licking, his skin thick with salt and musk.

"Mmmmmm," he said with a hint of a growl. "God it feels good, you pleasing me."

"You're so fucking hot," I whispered as I licked the crease behind his ear. As his piss subsided I shook it a few times, then stroked the foreskin slowly over the head. He turned around and moved in to kiss me, but I stopped him.

I squatted and licked the mixture of salty piss and sweet glandular fluid off the head of his cock, then pressed it up to his red pubic hair and softly kissed both of his shrunken balls.

"Make plenty more of that for me by next Tuesday, please," I said as I stood. He smiled as he tugged his blue jeans up to his waist.

"How about Friday?"

"This Friday?" I said.

"Yes -- my roommate is going home a day early for the weekend. I have plans with friends in the evening but I am free from 2 to 5."

My mind raced, a mixture of being caught off guard by the offer, trying to think of my own schedule and process the intoxicating idea of having hours in private with his potent tool.

"Uh, my last class ends at 2:30. I could be there before 3," I said. "What dorm?"

"Rand Hall -- the nerd dorm," he said with a smile. "Room 109, come in to the lobby, turn left, halfway down the hall. One good thing is everyone pretty much stays in their room all day."

I fastened my belt and adjusted my shirt.

"Friday -- I like that."

Bill moved in for a kiss.

"I'll make sure you do."