"I said SUCK IT, bitch."

by Pete Gentle

29 Jun 2016 34406 readers Score 7.5 (132 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


I get out of the car into the blackness of night and hear a thousand crickets screaming. This narrow street was carved out of a thick forest with hopeless optimism by some long dead city planner. The windows of the ancient brick houses are empty and dark.

For the first time in a while, I’m scared. I walk behind the drooping branches of some weeping willow trees, out of sight.

The light from my phone assaults my eyes as I scroll through the last message from him. There it is, gleaming in blue:

“Finally i can facefuck u”

“Here.” I text, and turn off the screen.

A minute later a tall dark figure slinks from down the road. He’s wearing dark track pants and a skimpy black tank top. I walk briskly to catch up with him.

“Hi, I’m here to meet someone,” I say, flashing the orange screen on my phone.

“Yeah,” the 18yo smiles, “You’re here to meet me. Is this your car?” He wants to drive somewhere. Okay.

We get in my small two-door Toyota and he looks out the window. “Sorry, I just don’t want to be seen. Actually, can I ride in the back?”

I glance behind at the huge Graco baby seat. “No, not much room. Just crouch down.”  

He bends over, head scrunched against my glove compartment. As I drive he directs me down the narrow road and around the corner. Gravel crackles under my tires when I slow to a stop in front of a small dilapidated chapel.

“Please tell me, is there anybody around?” he asks.  

“Nobody.”

“Okay.” He unfolds himself and we step out of the car, slowly closing the doors until they just click. He turns and disappears into the thick forest.

There’s no moon tonight, and I stumble over some fallen branches to chase after him.

“Don’t worry, I know this place. I used to come here with my ex.” He lights the way, just barely, with his phone’s screen.

As we walk, he gets close to me and slides his hand across the front of my shorts. I reach over and feel the curve of his ass, and caress his bulge. I’m happily surprised when I touch the smooth rigid head of his penis. It peeks out, pinned against his abs by the elastic of his track pants.

We‘re deep in the woods now. Just when I lose the sense of where the road was, we finally stop in front of a musty moss-covered log.

“Here’s good,” he says.

“Sure.” I take off my shirt and toss it on the leafy ground. We embrace, feeling each-other’s bodies. Then he shoves me down to my knees.

His cock is thick and cut, just as advertised. His glans is like a giant bell at the end, much bigger than the shaft. I run my hands on it. Hard as oak.

Suddenly, he reaches down to my cheek. “Suck it, bitch.” Slap.

Ow. Hot. I take it all in without gagging, silently pleased with my new skill.  I feel his hands pressing on the back of my skull, holding me to him. His thick pubic hair scratches my nostrils.

“Yeah, like that,” he breathes. He leans into me, and I’m holding up his weight with my face. The only reason I don’t fall over is my big toe, which is bent backwards on the soft ground behind me. It’s flexed beyond it limits, and I can’t keep my balance for very long. I push his pelvis away and focus on moving up and down, letting my tongue dance against the substantial underside of his cock.

He rewards me with another slap on the cheek. “Stand up.” He yanks me up, then pushes my shorts down. He grabs my penis and gives it a few strokes, but not enough. Then he turns around and falls into me, pushes his ass against my penis. I reach around and keep stroking him. He lays his head back onto my shoulder, exposing his long smooth neck. I gently nibble on him, moving slowly up to his cheek. It looks like we’re going to kiss, but he breaks away.

“You’ve been drinking?” he asks.

“Yeah, a couple of beers earlier.” The only reason I could come out late was because of a rare meetup with old school friends. All of us are in our 30s, and we drank fancy beers and ate tiny plates of gourmet smoked poutine until they tired at 9:30. My wife doesn’t expect me home until midnight.

He pushes me down again, and sharp stones cut into my knees. He raises his tank top, revealing outline of his flat tummy. My eyes are used to the dark now. He stands there and lets me admire his body. His arms and pecs have the defined bulges of a care-free teenager with no body fat. Small muscles, and proud of them. He stares into my eyes and smiles with glee, flashing his white teeth. He reaches down, as if to caress me.

Instead, he slaps my face again. “I said suck it, bitch.”

He shoves his dick into my mouth, and I do my best to not let his giant bell catch on my molars.

“Fuck,” he says. Encouraged, I give it everything, caressing his balls and moving my tongue around his shaft.

“Oh fuck!” he says again, exhales in frustration. “These damn mosquitoes!”

Gotta change it up. I let him slide all the way in, and I feel his penis enter my throat. No more gagging. I try to swallow it down for as long as I can, then I’m forced to let up for air.

“Use more suction,” he demands.

Suction? I’ve never used suction before. That’s interesting! I mentally file this away, then I start sucking. Like this? I stare up into his eyes. My cheeks pinch in on the out-stroke.

“Yeah, that’s good. Like really good.”

After a minute he pulls out and holds it in front of my face. “Spit on it.”

I spit, and pity the circumcised men of the world. He arches back, and wet skin smacks together as the teenager coaxes himself toward imminent release.

“Okay, take it in your mouth. Now.” he orders. He stabs it through my lips, and starts to face-fuck me. 

Too soon, he stops thrusting, groans, and pumps out a watery load of bitter cum. I swallow it down, and move to get my shorts back on.

In a flash, he bashes his palm against my shoulder, shoving me back to the ground. I get another slap on the cheek. “Clean it up.”

Okay. I put my mouth on it gingerly.

“No! Don’t suck, just clean it.”

Chagrined, I gently swab the tip of his softening penis with my tongue. He holds it out for me, turning it this way and that as it softens and droops. I stay there, my back and knees aching, until all trace of the bitterness is gone.

Back in my car, he crouches in the seat again, cowering. I drop him off in the dark corner of the street, and he vanishes into the night.

I can still taste his twink cum, and I love it.


-- Read more of my adventures at https://grindrfantasies.tumblr.com

by Pete Gentle

Email: [email protected]

Copyright 2024