Skippy Gobbles Cocksnot

Less frequent these days are comically over-written stories that are farces - shameless spoofs that create a non-existent world of pleasure without consequence, filled with heroic cummers without consciences, unapologetically and episodic. This story aims at being such.

It is a work of complete fiction, without reference to any actual occurrences. In real life, no Skippies or Sparkies were harmed in its writing, nor were any Scotts or Brians seduced by younger guys who then manipulated them into doing exactly what they wanted to have happen to them.

If you are offended by obnoxious language and even more obnoxious adult play, please do not read the following story.

Remember: read responsibly. If you are over-served, or oversensitive, close the screen and find your own way home, before you find yourself in trouble. You don’t have to swallow anything you don’t want to, dude.

If you’re fine with all that…enjoy!

Skippy Gobbles It

“Get ready to gobble some cock snot, Skip!

“Goooooood pussy, puss, puss! Come get the cock, Pussy!”

Scott ruffled my hair with one hand, thumbed my chin down with the other, then grabbed my head with both hands. He attached my mouth to his dick like he was putting a hose on a vacuum cleaner.

“Oooohhh, yeah, Skippy! Get the meat, baby! Suck for my baby batter! Hot soft and wet is how I like your pussy mouth. Let me hear you slurp pig boy! Work for that cum, baby…suck baby, suck it!”

I had finally learned to suck like a Hoover.

Scott’s meat was solid as a rock, covered with smooth velvet, and it leaked little tears of sweet sauce down the back of my throat. The odor off his sweaty balls and crotch was like having mushrooms shoved up my nose. Whiffs of hot-man testosterone stoked my brain and reached right down into my own junk, making my own dick hard as steel.

“That’s the way, little guy! Suck your daddy. Beat your little stick for me. My cock in your mouth makes you hard for my junk juice, doesn’t it, little dude? You’re right where you need to be…knees and ass on the floor while you gobble my goods.

“Now jerk the sauce out of your little rocks and squirt it in your hand while you go to town on my knob.”

My arm started to cramp, I was jacking so fast.

It felt like my balls had tied themselves in a knot before my dick jerked and spit out three puddles of goo that pooled in my palm.

Of course I kept slurping and sucking.

“Pull off a second and butter my knob with your boy butter…Pussy.”

I stared up at his smirking lips as I followed orders.

“Now, just put the knob in your mouth and nurse it like a tit. Daddy’s going to feed his little fellow.”

Happy to comply I stared up into those laser eyes as he stared down, watching my lips and mouth work the tip of his pussy stick.

“Oh yeah, baby, suck it all out now. Daddy’s gonna produce it for you.”

Speed sucking the knob…nursing on the cap of that perfect pole, I caught the first spurt in my pouched lips then dove all the way down on that stick as it fired up into my throat, my Adam’s apple dunking frantically to keep up with the gushing cock snot.

It flowed like honey.

Scott sighed and patted my head as I quietly sucked on his dick. “Just relax, little guy. You’ve got my nut in your gut and my dick just where you need it. You can just hang there a while and enjoy yourself.

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and petted my head with one hand as he hummed a little bit.  His breath steadied.

“Yep, Skippy. It’s like you’re home now, isn’t it? Your balls are dry and you’ve got the perfect dick in your mouth. All is well, little guy, all is welll.” He raised his cell and snapped a pic of my exhausted, contented face.

Oh my god! how did I get here again?

It was the perfect summer, after graduation and before going off to college.

I got the perfect job…house sitting for my parents’ best friends.

The Grimes were older than my folks, but they used to live next door. That was before they moved to the state capital when Mr. G was elected as our state rep. He had coached my dad in high school and my dad went on to become the football coach at the same school. Dad’s always been great to me, but I know he’s disappointed that I turned out kinda short, just 5’6,’’and not up to making his team.

 But I’m wiry.

Just in the last couple of months I’ve been putting on some muscle. I started working out in my dad’s weight room a little, and my chest and arms are beginning to look good, especially compared to my narrow waist and the couple of small cantaloupes I’ve got for a butt.

Anyway, the Grimes lived next door while I was growing up.

They had one son too, about eight years ahead of me. He was so cool. He was the quarterback on my dad’s team. Summer, he’d bring his weights out to their backyard and work out in the sun. I’d hide behind a bush by the fence and watch, being super quiet so he wouldn’t see me. I’d just discovered amateur wrestling videos that showed one guy pinning the other until he yelled “uncle.” Sometimes they’d grab balls and squeeze. I’d feel that in my own crotch and later learned to beat off quietly while I watched Scott squeeze his muscles to pump out more reps.

I was just a kid, though. Scott pretty much ignored me, except when I’d see him on the street and say ‘hi.’ He’d mutter something like,”Hi squirt!” and just keep walking. Mom said he became a lawyer after college and was some big shot trial guy, hammering witnesses, strutting in front of judges and juries, winning big cases, one after another. Invincible, getting richer by the day.

So, back to this summer.

I’m going to college at State and since the Grimes are away for the summer in the South of France(!) I get to house sit for them before starting college in September. Then, in the fall, I get to stay here for free! Just need to keep doing the houseboy stuff in my spare time.

Did I say “house”? It’s really a small mansion with tall hedged fences, security gate, and a visiting staff? Those people have the week off while I settle in but they’ll be in and out starting next week. For me, there’s not really much to do except look at their giant wall-to-wall TV, water their plants and keep their pool looking good. There are home-made meals in the freezer, and most anything I can think of in the pantry – even beer! I’m LOVIN IT!

The pool’s got a side pool with a stream for doing laps, you know, like a treadmill, but it’s water…and a hot tub pool right beside it. There’s a little private woods in the back that’s got kid playground stuff from when Scott was a kid, a gym in the basement and… everything! The bathrooms even have those bidet things and a bunch of hoses with a bunch of different attachments  to wash and do anything you can imagine…I think.

I can’t quite figure it out yet.

It’s all super cool ‘cause my folks never put much away and it’s all they can do to keep me in food and book money next year. If I don’t keep my scholarship, I’m sunk.

The second weekend, I heard something at the back door in the middle of the afternoon. I zipped downstairs, opened the door, and there was some guy sticking a key in the lock. He looked like those covers of men’s health magazines, all rough good looks, kinda tall with perfect proportions and a body that looked like it was constructed from softballs - one smooth mound of muscle connecting to the next, all covered with skin that looked like hard vanilla ice cream. Plenty of black floppy curls on top of some kind of a jarhead cut. Like a Marine or something.

Oh yeah – pitch black eyes that seemed to grin at you all by themselves. Eyes - like God’s telling you to come give him a kiss.

“Uh, little dude! I forgot mom and dad had somebody staying at the house. I’m their son, Scott.”

“I remember you! I’m Skipper. You used to live next door when I was a kid.”

“Scott looked confused for a couple of seconds, then it came together for him.’

“Skipper!…Yeah, I kind of remember…you were the little dude. How’s it hanging? Everything okay here at the place?

“Fine so far.  I heard you moved to Chicago.”

“That’s right. My wife’s from there, so we decided to raise the kids near her parents.”

“So you got a couple of kids?”

“Yeah…three so far.  I seem to do a good job in that department. I want to pick up some of my old shit that I’ve kept stored here – some of my weights, books, stuff like that …and store some things from Chicago here.  Maybe you could give me a hand humping things in and out. Like I said, I’d forgotten mom said you were staying here and I planned to sack out here a couple of days. I’ve decided to open a part time law office here to, so I’ll be going back and forth to Chicago all summer. making sure I get things  just the way I want them.”

He seemed to be looking into my brain while he said that, then he winked. “How about lending your body to the cause, Skip?”

“Uhhh, you mean…?”

“I mean help me with the humping, little dude.” It kind of looked like he was smirking at me.

“I’d be glad to help, sir!” I stammered, suddenly nervous as hell, my face flushing hot for some reason.”

“Skip, with that attitude, you and I are going to get along just fine!” The man grinned at me, blushed even deeper for some reason. I could feel my pitts start to sweat…for some reason. And for some reason, my dick was starting to chub up.

Scott had on shorts and a tee shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His bare feet arched elegantly over flip-flops that looked to be about a size 12. Hmmm. I’d sneaked enough porn stories on the internet to know what people say about men with big feet. Couldn’t help but wonder. I mean, any guy would, wouldn’t he?

As we brushed past each other carrying box after box, I could smell him. Something kinda like bread dough along with a sharp flash of sweet sweat. When he paused and stretched, there was a whiff of something more – earthy and rich.

I picked up a couple of suitcases and asked him where we should put them, whether I should move my stuff out of the big main bedroom.

“Don’t sweat it, Skip. I lay on anything.” His eyes bore into my own for a couple of seconds. It was like he was ‘staring into my brain again.

“Well, little guy, “I think I’ll grab a quick shower and change.”

My mouth dropped open as he stood in the middle of the living room and stripped off. Shirt flying over his head, flip flops hitting the wall, shorts slipping down over bending hips. After snapping the waist of the jock that remained, he hooked it off and tossed it with the rest. A perfect dick hung long over two low hanging, heavy balls. He was fucking perfect! He scratched his chest, then behind his balls, looking me in the eyes the whole time. The corner of his mouth twitched a bit.

“Skippy, toss those in the wash for me will you? I want them clean for a workout tomorrow.’ He turned and walked to the bathroom, his ass a pumping muscle machine.

I stared after him, my dick hardening my own shorts. This was way too good to be true. My teenage jack-off dream, naked under the same roof with me.

His damp clothes!

I zipped over and snatched them up,  wet cloth molding into my hands. Without thinking, I brought them to my face and just breathed in.

Ooooommmyyyyyygggod! The smell was so fucking good! My dick started a little pulsing dance, my balls snuggling up to keep it company,

His jock strap was caught in my fingers as I walked toward the laundry. Pausing, I held the pouch to my nose, moved to that criss-cross part art that must have tickled his hole, and about passed out with heat.

“Skippy, do you know where…” Scott walked back into the room, one hand behind his head, the other scratching lazily rubbing his abdomen.

I froze as he stopped and staring at his jock that was still shoved against my nose.

“Ah, Skippy…I believe you may be able to help me here with something else here.”

Like a snake hunting for prey, his cock slowly rose and stuck straight out from his crotch. It pulsed, pointing right at me.

“See Skip, I’ve got a problem. My dick is hard and there’s no mouth sucking it. Take care of it, Skip…NOW!” He beckoned with a finger, then pointed to the thing.

Taking two steps forward in less than a second, I dropped to my knees.

 He walked up to me like I was a urinal.

“Open! Suck my finger first. That’s it little guy. Get it wet. Let me feel that little wet pink tongue. Soooo warm, so wet. Yeah, little guy. Go for it. Suck my big finger, make it happy, little dude!”

I closed my eyes. His finger in my mouth became my world. He worked it all around my gums, under my tongue, out and around my lips, then back again into my hot sucking hole.

“Open your eyes, little man. Look at me while you work! Good boy! Feel how good that finger is? Now look at my cock and think how good that’s going to feel in your pussy mouth, right, little babe?

“Now open up wide and come home to the dick, baby.”

 I was all over it. Sucking and licking like I was getting  my last meal…ever. After a minute, he pulled me off, and held my cheeks in his amazing hands. Gazing down, he lightly slapped first one side of my face, then the other. He thumbed my lips, then pried open my jaw. With my mouth hanging open, locked in his strong hands, I looked up into his mocking eyes.

“Does your mouth need some more dick, Skippy? Do you need to suck me so you can feel good, baby? Yeah, you know you do. You need it really bad, don’t you, sweetheart? You crave my dick in your throat. Come get the dick, Skippy, Get the big dick and suck suck suck suck suck!”

Boy did I!  I’d never sucked dick before, but I’d sure as hell watched it done on my computer! I’d even stuck a banana down my throat once, then a zucchini another time. I’d filled a turkey baster with condensed milk and squirted shots down my throat while I nursed like a baby on the tube.

Man, this was so much better.

I held his balls in the fingers of both hands, working them slowly…I made his man junk my god of the moment.

“Fuuuuuuuccccccckkkk, rrrrrhhhhghhhhhh, annnnnhhhhn…” Scott shot his load on my greedy tongue, then leaned in to inject a few more thick hits right down my throat. He grabbed my head and his gut turned hard as rock while I sucked him dry.

“Oh man! Suck it down, baby! You’re as bad as a fuckin’ little pig on a slop hose. Go for it, babe! Eat it up. A few minutes down time and I’ll be spitting more down your tight little throat. You know we’ll be doing this over and over again because you know you gotta have my dick, little guy. You’re going to crave my cum my cum from now on, just watch and see.”

With a big plop, he pulled his meat out of my sucking head.

“When you wash my stuff, better do yours too, looks like you splooged in your pants, little dude.

“Bet it’s really squishy and wet in there, huh? You’d better suck it all out of the cotton while you’re at it.” He laughed, walking back into the hall. A bit dazed, I followed his advice.

Yeah, now I remember. That’s how I got here.

Skippy and Scott Share A Happy Hour

I rushed to throw our clothes in the washer (yeah, I did suck out my jizz) and change into some fresh duds. Then I went by the guest bathroom to clean myself up a bit.

In the kitchen I grabbed a glass of water, drinking it down while still tasting the tang of Scott’s and my spooge in my mouth.

“Aren’t you the fresh one, little guy!” Scott walked into the kitchen, gloriously naked and toweling his dark hair dry. “I brought in some beers earlier that should be cold now. Grab a couple and bring them into the living room. Don’t pussy around,” he said.

“Come here and sit, Skip. We can catch up on what we’ve both been up to. It’s been some years, hasn’t it? I remember when you used to watch me work out in the back yard while you tried to hide in the bushes and jerk off. You really crave this body, don’t you, little dude?

I went red as hell, embarrassed that he knew all along what I did… what I wanted. Oh my god, what else could he know about me?

So, Skip, you got a girl, or maybe a boy friend? Maybe both?”

“Uh, not really,” stammered. “Well I do have a friend…Josh. He and I hang out a lot and talk about what we’re going to do when we get out of college. His dad’s a minister and wants him to be one too, but Josh doesn’t think so. He’s sweatin’ it.”

“Really?  Josh, huh? Sweatin’ it? You have a pic on your phone, maybe?”

I was really flattered that this total stud seemed to care about my life.

“Yeah. Here’s one of Josh when he was playing at being Tarzan at the beach. He’s about my height but he was on the gymnastics team. He’s pretty cut, isn’t he?”

“He‘s a right little beefcake. You two getting it on?”

“NO!!” I said, kind of shocked. “He and I just hang and stuff. He plays football for my dad. My dad’s the coach, remember?”

“Cool! Does he live nearby?”

“Well he’s coming up here tomorrow to look for a place to live. He’s starting freshman year with me at State. He’s kind of down about the preacher thing.”

‘You should ask him to stay here, maybe. There’s plenty of room and I now I think I might need longer to get my shit together before heading back to Chicago.”

Go get us a couple more beers, little dude, grab some chips and dip too and get back here.”

“No, no, not on the couch. Set your sweet little ass on the floor, Skippy. Yeah, right there between my knees. I’m going to dribble some beer on my dick and you are going to lick it off. Got it?”

“I got it.”

 Fully clothed, I sat between Scott’s legs, leaning forward to catch drips off his dick. Scott and I both seemed to be in love with his dick.

“Little dude, use your finger and slap a little dip on my knob. That’s it, really careful. Now take a little lick of dip, then a little sip of dick. There’s some more beer on its way too.”

I licked, smeared, sucked and swallowed.

“Hook some of that dip on your finger and bring it here,” Scott directed. I scooped some up and lifted it to his lips. Warm, wet, oh so hot, he ate it off then sucked the finger into his mouth.

“I bet that’s kind of what happens when you eat me, isn’t it, little guy? Pussies really like to get things inside them, finger, nipple, dick, ass lips…cum. Don’t you think…Pussy?”

My balls heated up and rose again to support my now rock hard dick. His trash talk got me right where I lived.

“My wife loves it when I fuck her. She loves sucking my dick. She loves it when I shoot in her pussy to start another kid for the both of us. But, you know, she doesn’t seem to need it the way you do. You’re like desperate, man! It’s like you really need something to suck on, need to gobble down that spooge when it shoots out, need to nibble and maybe root around for a place to stick the tip of your little pink tongue…I’ll bet you would go crazy snuffling around for a place to lick. Ya think?

The whole time he was growling this out, I was sucking like I needed his dick to stay alive.

“Lay  your head back on the couch here while I stand up and turn around. You are about to meet your new favorite slop bowl.”

Sitting up and twisting, I settled back as he slowly lowered his butt onto my face. A hairless, tender tan pucker sank lower and lower, zeroing in on my waiting mouth. Resting his weight lightly on my face, he moaned as I kissed his hole and probed the center with my tongue. It fought back, but I kept at it, nipping licking and sucking at the tender smooth flesh.

I’d always thought doing something like this would be gross…stinky at least. But no, not with this stud.

“Oh man! Skippy, eat my ass, boy! Start jerking your little stick again ‘cause you’re going to squirt in my hand this time.”

I flogged my meat like a maniac. He reached down and cupped his hand under my knob just as I gushed another set of shots for him.

“Ah, yes! Now I’m going to lie back and lift my knees and drop your wad on my asshole. It’s time to chow down on that slop, baby. Eat it all up!”

He did, and I did. I sucked and gobbled, then licked some more while he laughed and snorted.

“Man, you are a big eater! (CLICK. CLICK CLICK). If your mouth is that desperate, I wonder how in the hell hungry your ass is going to be.” (CLICK, CLICK).

I lifted my face from his butt and saw he had his phone out, taking pictures of me rimming his ring.

Putting his legs down again, he told me, “We’ll see what I might have to do with these pics. They’re pretty hot, but meanwhile, get back on my cock, I have a phone call to make.”