Blame It On The Window

by Chris Carr

14 Nov 2012 1134 readers Score 8.9 (11 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Had he been watching me all along? What was his game and how come he was just sitting there? All of those questions plagued me as I stared at his dick, my heart pounding in my ears.

The TV dark, Mr. Simpson was bare butt naked. Calmly observing me, he never stopped stroking. His dick slippery, it squished when he slipped his fist around the hard, shiny head.

I must've stood there for the longest, my dick hard as cold steel, swelling and throbbing in my shorts. Antsy, I felt torn. Part of me wanted to get the hell out of there and forget this whole crazy thing. But another part of me couldn't stop staring at Mr. Simpson's dick.

In hindsight, I guess I can say Mr. Simpson came to represent the kind of man I've been attracted to all my life. My dad and I weren't on the best terms, his hard exterior something I both admired and hated. He was so shut down, I don't even remember him ever hugging me or showing any signs of affection. Fo' sho' he provided. Nice house, nice cars, clothes to envy. But I'd have given it all up for one hug, or pat on the head.

Mr. Simpson wasn't what I would've considered hot, or exactly attractive at the time. He was a bit dumpy, that middle aged bulge starting, already in his forties. But he was still toned, his chest sporting pecs and his arms muscular. In essence, he was my dad but I didn't see that at the time.

Standing, he approached the window. I followed that dick until he stood over me, beckoning for me to come up. I think I would've stood there the rest of the day if he hadn't.

My hands trembling, I reached up and he pulled me inside. Then he did something different... he closed the blinds.

"You a mess boy," He chuckled, pulling me to the bed. My heart was pounding so hard, I felt lightheaded but for some reason I trusted him.

Sitting on the bed, I listened to the silence, my excited breathing the only sound. A cool breeze passing through the window, it swayed the blinds. I stared at the window, wondering if he'd ever watched me through it.

"You scared?" Mr. Simpson said. I hunched my shoulders, my head down.

"Ain't got to be scared boy," He said, caressing my back.

It felt good and I melted. Relaxing, I glanced at his dick. It had gone down some but still pulsed hard.

He kept rubbing my back, calming me till all I wanted was more. When he told me to take my clothes off, I hesitated, but complied. Standing, I removed my shirt, shoes and shorts, my dick a tent in my briefs.

Mr. Simpson finished the rest, removing both my socks then pulling my jockeys down. I stepped out of them, my legs wobbly.

"It's ok, boy," He calmly stated, pulling me atop him.

Enfolding me in his arms, he held me, my heart thumping against his broad chest. Being held felt better than ever and I could've stayed like that all day. My dick jumped and swelled between us, leaking on his leg as he held me.

"You got some more flix?" I quietly asked, my head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. What you wanna see?" I hunched my shoulders.

He left me on the bed and I watched as he opened a dresser draw, crammed to the top with videos. Damn, he got enough to start a store, I thought. Picking one, he popped it in the VCR.

The TV on, corny music started then two young guys walked towards a hotel door. Mr. Simpson laid beside me and he lay facing me as the film progressed.

The two guys were talking making excuses to get naked, blaming it on the heat. It was obviously scripted but I liked watching them get into the act. When they were both naked, the kissing started.

"You ever seen this before?" Startled, I looked at Mr. Simpson, a blank look on my face. Shaking my head, I looked back at the TV.

"Never?" I shook my head again. "Ain't never seen any porno before?" I shook my head once more.

"Hmm," Mr. Simpson said, grabbing the remote.

The video stopped and I heard the VCR fast forwarding. "Watch this," He said, turning the video back on.

To my utter surprise, one of the boys was licking and sucking on the other boy's balls. Continuing down, he lifted the boy's legs and, my eyes blinking, I watched as he licked his tongue up the boy's smooth ass crack.

"Ever had anybody do that?"

"Naw, that's nasty," I said.

"Don't knock it till you try it," Mr. Simpson said, raising up.

Moving me to the center of the bed, he kneeled over me. I gazed up at him, my eyes traveling down his body until they saw his dick. Sticking straight out, it hovered over mine, the head shiny.

Then I felt him licking and sucking my nipple and I just about jumped up off that bed. Before I knew it I was moaning and shaking, his tongue incredible on my sensitive bud.

My hands grabbing handfuls of blanket, I shivered as he switched nipples, his talented tongue whipping around the other sensitive protrusion. It stood erect, dancing on his tongue as he slurped. Had you told me my nipples could be so sensuous at the time, I would've thought you mad. But as Mr. Simpson worked each tender dot, I moaned and writhed, my head spinning like never before.

His big hands beneath me, he held me in a gentle embrace, his mouth working wonders on my inexperienced body. Trembling, I gasped and moaned as he licked me all over, his tongue venturing further down until it found my throbbing dick.

I just about screamed when he encircled it in his warm mouth. I'd never had anyone on my dick before but I knew I wouldn't last long if he continued. My legs spreading, they fanned and rose until I lay frog legged, my toes wiggling mid-air.

Staring at the ceiling, I took each new sensation in like a sensory starved virgin. When his mouth found my taut balls, I trembled and shook so hard, the bed squeaked.

"Ahh!" I gasped, my sensitive balls in his mouth.

His tongue finding every hot spot on my taut orbs, I shuddered when he licked them like a dog licking his own balls. I knew what was coming but lay powerless to stop it. When he licked further, my toes stood totally erect.

Lifting my legs like the guy in the movie, he worked down, until I felt him licking around my quivering hole. Part of me disgusted, I nevertheless was a willing participant, my legs spread as he licked closer and closer to the forbidden area.

His tongue dragging dead center up my crack, I heard myself gasp loudly when it passed over my tight hole. As nasty as my subconscious kept saying this was, I'd never felt anything more intimate or as stimulating. He could lick my ass all day, for all I cared.

And lick he did. Over and over his tongue swabbed up my near hairless crack, painting every inch of it in his warm saliva. If this was what gay guys did, I was one of the newest inductees.

My buttonhole flexing tight, each time he licked over it, I squirmed and moaned, wishing it'd never end. After some time, a puddle had formed beneath my throbbing dick as it leaked like a faucet. All was magical until I heard Mr. Simpson say,

"Your turn."

My eyes flinging open, I raised my head and stared at him. He couldn't be meaning what I thought. My heart racing, I suddenly felt foolish. Had he been leading up to this all along?

Laying beside me, he moved his muscular chest towards my puzzled face. Positioning his nipple in front of my mouth, he looked at me as if waiting for me to lick it. I stared at it for some time, my heart pounding in my ears again.

In my head I considered my options. If I stopped now, I could leave with my dignity, the worse being I let some dude lick my asshole. Bad enough in itself but I could live with that. But then I'd risk never having those wonderful sensations again and I knew that'd drive me crazy. Besides, I still hadn't got that good nutt yet.

Having someone jerk me off or lick my ass was one thing, however. Actively participating in something with another guy was something else. My head racing a mile a minute, Mr. Simpson quietly said, "Just lick it," in that fatherly voice. Then he reached down and stroked my softening boy tool and my head started spinning.

It was all moving so fast, my emotions a mangled mass of desire, confusion and fear. I felt my dick grow stiff again and, despite the knot forming in my chest, I leaned forward and tentatively stuck my tongue out until it made contact with his broad nipple.

Mr. Simpson waited patiently as I clumsily darted my tongue out to touch his nipple then jerked it back. I kept doing that until my heart stopped trying to jump through my mouth and then I started licking it.

"That's it," He encouraged, his big hand caressing my head like I was a little boy.

That small gesture went a long ways though. It was what I'd been craving and I licked more earnestly. "Yeah," Mr. Simpson cooed, his big hand stroking my ear. Laying along side me, he took my bobbing head in his hand and cradled it like a baby at its mother's nipple.

I felt his warm body beside mine, the back of his other hand strumming over my nipples and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like a hungry child I licked on his nipple, my tongue working to mimic what I'd seen him do earlier.

By the sounds he was making, I guess I was doing pretty good. The afternoon breeze blowing through the window, it caressed our naked bodies. Man and child, we lay next to each other, my tongue working over his nipple until, when he raised me up and kissed me, I offered little resistance.

Surprised as hell, I tensed up, my head spinning again, but again this felt natural and I soon enfolded against him, my arm flopping to encircle his waist. He held me in his big arms, his hands roaming up and down my back and it was then I accepted... this was me.

I couldn't put all the pieces together and I would've denied it had anyone asked me, but, looking back, I can see now it'd all led up to this. The ball, the window, my nagging curiosity.

Curiosity killed the cat, so the saying goes, and it certainly got me more than I'd ever bargained. When Mr. Simpson guided me towards his other nipple, I complied, eagerly licking it like the other. In time, I heard him gasp his body shaking as I suckled. Guess I wasn't doing bad.

"Com'on," He said, after some time.

His hand insistent on my head, he pushed me towards his dick. It loomed before me, larger than ever, throbbing in anticipation. My heart pounding in my ears, I stopped just before I made contact. Staring at it, I lay frozen. This would be it. I did this and my fate would be sealed.

"Here," Mr. Simpson said.

Maneuvering around, he lay so his head was at my dick while mine was at his, just like the boys in the video. Before I could protest, his mouth was around my leaking post again. My toes curling, I closed my eyes in ecstasy. Damn, if this wasn't the shit!

Mr. Simpson's dick bobbled in front of me, the head shiny and smooth. Tentatively, I leaned forward, my tongue extended until it made contact. His dick jerked, swelling like a python. I timidly dabbed at the head, the heat from it incredible. It bobbled and jerked, his balls pulling tight.

I took the base in my hand and opened my mouth. Mr. Simpson's mouth on my dick was driving me crazy, egging me on towards unspeakable acts. My brain fried, I took the head of his dick in my mouth.

He moaned, his dick swelling in my mouth. Observing his technique on my dick, I slowly moved my mouth back and forth, until I was going down about half way. Like the boys in the video, I was getting head while I gave someone else some.

When I really started working my mouth up and down his dick, it jerked so hard, it fell out of my mouth. Opening my jaw wide, I encircled the unruly serpent once more. My performance a bit awkward, I kept loosing his dick, causing me to start all over again.

Twice I nicked it with my teeth and it took me forever to get a rhythm going, but Mr. Simpson never complained, his mouth the most incredible thing on my dick. Had I not been so occupied with his dick, I'm sure I would've lost it, the first few minutes.

By the time I finally got over my first time jitters, we were both so hot, it was just a matter of minutes before it was all over. My ass muscles flexing, I thrust my dick forward, meeting his down strokes, while I matched his with my own awkward slurping.

I didn't even get the tongue thing down that first time. Basically, it was like sucking a Popsicle and for the most part, I just kept going back and forth. But that didn't matter because Mr. Simpson moaned and writhed like I was a full fledged professional, his dick swelling and throbbing in my teen mouth.

We slurped and grunted, our pelvis' thrusting, toes curling then I couldn't hold back any longer and my dick exploded. Whimpering like a bitch, water filled my eyes and I thought I'd cry, the feeling was so intense.

My dick blasted hot scalding boy juice into Mr. Simpson's talented mouth, my hips bucking. Then I felt his dick leap and cum filled my mouth. My first inclination was to jerk back, but for some reason, I didn't.

The head of my dick raw, it felt afire. Gush after gush of excited cum shooting out the slit, I screamed in ecstasy, Mr. Simpson's cum in my mouth but a footnote to the orgasm I was riding out. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before or since.

My mouth filling with his hot cum, I held it until we both stopped squirting. Drained, I collapsed on the bed, my mouth full of warm cum. When he sat up and looked at me, a satisfied grin on his face, I peered up at him, my face reddening with boyish glee.

"You swallow it?" I shook my head. "Go spit it out then," He instructed, pointing towards the hall.

I dragged myself up, reluctant to leave the glorious afterglow, padding my bare feet towards the bathroom. Spitting his cum in the sink, I stared at it for some time. That deposit of white goo spoke volumes to me, my whole world swirling down the drain when I turned the water on.

Strolling back in the room, I stood in the door, my head fuzzy. What the hell had just happened?

"You ok?" I stared at him, trying to figure how I'd got here.

"Come here," He instructed. "It's ok," He consoled, stroking my back when I sat next to him. "Any time you want, you can do this again. Ain't nothing wrong with it, just two people enjoying something really nice."

There was truth in his words but I wondered how well they'd hold up in the presence of my friends, or my conscience, or Nicky, for that matter. Sitting there for some time, I let him hold me, then I got dressed and left.

****************

The next time I saw a porno was on Mr. Simpson's big screen TV in his living room. He'd told me anytime I wanted to come over I could use the back door.

"Just open it and come in," He told me, sensing my fear of being seen.

The back door was along the side of his house and if I hopped the fence and made a bee-line for it, it was unlikely anyone would spy me.

After our last session I'd been from one extreme to the other. Like a fool I'd told myself that was the last time. That I'd never go over there again and actually convinced myself it was just a slip.

I was doing pretty good for the first few days, arguing that a brotha ain't supposed to be doing shit like that. Every time I'd look at my dad and imagined his reaction, it would scare the hell out of me.

Nicky, my buddies, everybody seemed like they knew or that they'd soon find out. But at the bottom of it all, I couldn't get all of those fantastic things off my mind was. Couldn't get over the way Mr. Simpson's mouth felt on my dick. The way it felt to hold his hardness and look at it. The mind-blowing nutt and just the thought of his tongue on my ass again, would send shivers down my spine.

"What's wrong with you boy?" My dad inquired one time.

We were at the dinner table and my mind had drifted to that last session. I saw my legs up, my toes wiggling and just as I felt Mr. Simpson's tongue, snatching across my hole, I shivered.

Jumping, I looked at pops, his mouth frozen with a mouthful of food. "Nothin'" I murmured, shrugging it off. He stared at me a little longer then he started eating again. For those few seconds, I felt like I'd die. Like all of my worst fears had come to past. He knew and I was fucked.

Of course it was my mind playing tricks on me and all of the willpower I could muster didn't stand a chance against my ravenous teen lust. With every jack off session, my resolve weakened until finally, I started plotting a way to get back over there.

Besides, Mr. Simpson had promised me a new porno, with something I hadn't seen. He'd even told me I could watch anything I wanted, straight videos included.

Convincing myself I was going over there to just look at pussy porn, something I'd been dying to do anyway, I finally hopped the fence one quiet afternoon. Ducking below the hedges along his side wall, I rushed to the door and let myself in.

"Mr. Simpson?" I called, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"In here," He returned, his voice coming from the front room.

On wobbly legs, I walked towards the sound of his voice, peeking around the kitchen door, not certain what I'd see.

"Sup, youngblood," He said, reclining on his sofa.

It was my first time in his living room, or any other part of his house for that matter, so I just stood there. He was wearing another pair of those colored briefs, gray this time, but that's all. His big screen TV had a porno on and I stood, mesmerize at how clear and large the picture was.

Dude sure was bold, playing porno videos right in his front room. What if somebody came by?

"Have a seat," He said, patting on the sofa next to him. I wandered over, a bit stunned by all the cool electronics he had. He must be in the money, I thought, observing the high end stereo and dual VCR's in his entertainment center.

Had it been today, I guess he probably would've had a surround-sound system, DVD and computer. But back then, something as simple as his TV playing through the stereo was pretty impressive. Which it did, in full stereophonic sound.

Slurps, smacks and moans were pouring from the speakers along with more of that corny music in hi-fidelity, state-of-the-art, sound.. He truly had it going on.

I looked at the TV as I sat, my mind blown by the images and sound. If I was going to watch porn, this was the way to go.

Of course it was a gay porn. All while I gawked, something way in my subconscious kept saying, "what about the pussy porn?" My eyes plastered on the action unfolding before me, I found myself powerless.

Like he'd promised, this video was something new. At the time I thought he'd known I was coming over and put this film on. In hindsight I realize, it was just coincidence.

There were three guys this time, all of them white. One guy was on the bed, a tall guy over his head, his dick miles down dude's throat. The third guy was between his uplifted legs but this guy wasn't just licking his asshole. In between licks he was working his finger in and out of the guy's asshole.

"Its called fingering," Mr. Simpson said, answering my question. "Feels real good. Wanna try it?"

by Chris Carr

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