A True Story

It was early afternoon when the phone rang. “Hello.”

“Is this Jason?”

I smiled, knowing immediate what he wanted because Jason was my cocksucking name. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Ugh … ugh …” 

I smiled to myself as he stuttered, obviously new at this. 

Then in shy voice went on, “I got this number off the wall.”

“The wall,” I asked, knowing full well what wall. I had a friend named Bronco that’s a sales man whose product takes him all over the metro-plex. He writes, ‘If you want your cock sucked call xxx-xxx-xxx and ask for Jason,” on the men’s room wall in every public restroom he visited. I didn’t mind because my name wasn’t really Jason and the phone wasn’t in my name. It was in the name of someone who’d left the state a year ago. “Wall what wall?”

“The bathroom wall at (some convenience store that I’d never heard of),” he said nervously,”

These calls always amused me. The caller was always some so called straight guy that, because his wife wasn’t blowing him or he was just ‘curious’ for whatever reason wanted his cock sucked. Often it was as simple as his wife didn’t swallow and I would. Often when the conversation progress to the point where I admitted that I sucked and the guy got a little more confident, he asked, “do you swallow?” 

My “Yes,” always sealed the deal. 

The next question would be, “How does this work?”

“Simple, you come over, pull your pants down, and I suck your cock.”

‘Newbies’ were always nervous so I always wore gym shorts and a t-shirt when they came over. Nervous or not, I’d always take them to my bedroom. The ones that knew what they were doing would strip without any prompting and lay down on my bed. 

But I’d generally have to prompt first timers. “You’ll want to take off your clothes and lie down.” 

They would always watch me as they slowly unbuttoning their shirt. To make them feel more comfortable I’d strip off my t-shirt. Next they would kick off their shoes. If they were really nervous they would fumble around with their belt buckle for what seemed like forever. I would then strip off my gym shorts. 

Many guys, especially newbies, didn’t want to see or touch my cock, so I would always be wearing a nice pair of panties.  It’s supervising how many guys liked me in panties. I think me wearing panties was a sign that I wasn’t playing a joke on them and that they really were going to get their cock sucked. 

Suddenly their zipper would be down and their pants down to mid thigh. 

To keep them from falling on their butt in their haste, I’d push them back on the bed and finish pulling their pants off for them. 

Anyway, when the guy said the restroom wall I’d ask him what it said. I knew what it said. Bronco always put, “when Jason answers say, “I want my cock sucked.’ 

If a guy were bold enough to do that, I’d say, “Ok. Come on over,” and I’d suck it for him.

Finally the guy said, “It says you suck cocks.”

“Am I to infer then that you want your cock sucked?”


“Yes, what?”

“Yes I want my cock sucked.”

“Have you ever had your cock sucked by a guy before?”

“I’ve never had my cock sucked by anyone, not even my wife.”

When he got there he was an older man, 70s at least. He was so nervous that he jabbered all the way into the bedroom. He was so nervous that instead of getting him undressed, I let him sit down on the bed so we could chat a little bit to calm him down. He told me that he and his wife thought oral sex was sinful so she’d never sucked his cock and he’d never eaten her pussy. 

I started doubting his sincerity about wanting a blowjob when he told me that homosexuality (actually I’m bisexual and fuck girls. I just like to suck cocks too) was an abomination to god and that I was going to hell for sucking cocks. He went on for about ten  minutes about how wrong what I was doing was and how I depraved it was, how I was debasing myself, and on and on. 

I couldn’t help thinking, is this guy here to save my soul or to get his cock sucked? If he was really there to get his cock sucked ha picked a poor way to talk me into it. I stopped listening when he started using words like queer and faggot. 

All this time I was when I got tired of his rhetoric, as he continued to preach I casually unbuckled belt and as I unzipped his pants, said, “You might want to take your shirt off.”

After he took his shirt off he laid back against the headboard so I could pull off his pants. 

When I got his underwear down low enough I took his cock in my mouth. It was limp and not even three inches long. As I closed my lips and he felt my warm moist mouth on his cock he moaned, “Oh my god,” and grabbed the sides of my head. With in seconds I had him hard. Thankfully hard, it got up to five inches. 

I gave this guy the best blowjob I’ve ever given anyone in my life. And to prolong his pleasure I drug it out for almost thirty minutes. I made him moan, “ugh, ugh,” by licking and sucking his ball. 

I made him whimper with pleasure when I rimmed him.  

I brought him almost to an orgasm, only to back off three times. 

His balls were wound up so tightly between his legs that he thought they were going to explode. 

I had him whimpering, “oh god, oh god,” and begging me to, “please, oh god please” let him cum. 

When I finally let him cum, he grabbed both hands to my head in a death grip and there were tears rolling down his cheeks. The old bastard screeched, "Ooooh migod, I'm cumming! I'm cumming in your mouth, ooooh, ooooh, ooooh nooo," as he went off like a bomb. 

I felt the first jet of thick, hot cum blast into my throat. They were followed by pulsation after pulsation and I felt like my mouth was filling with thick, hot cum, far more cum than I’d expected a guy his age to have.  

He whimpered like a baby knowing that as his cum poured into my mouth that I was swallowing it.

When he fell back on the bed and started huffing and puffing, I thought I’d given him a heart. As he lay there panting for breath, I leaned over and lick his semi-flaccid cock, cleaning him up. 

Each time my tongue touched his little pee-pee; it twitched and jerked like I’d shocked him.

Embarrassed and humiliated by not only his participation in such a vile sinful act as one guy sucking another off, but also to his reaction to getting sucked off. 

Damning his soul to hell or not, thanks to the pleasure my mouth had given him, he called me a week later and wanted to come by for another blowjob. I hadn’t like his attitude or the way he threw the bible in my face when he was over so I was never going to suck his cock again. I don’t remember what excuse I gave him, but I turned him down. 

A few days later, he called me again and again I turned him down. 

The third time he called, the poor bastard wanted his cock sucked so bad that he actually started crying and begging me to suck it again.

I told him that thanks to his sermon, I’d saw the light, got back in church and didn’t suck cocks anymore.  

He was still crying when I hung up

The end…



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