My First Time

Duane wasn’t that much older than me. He just looked that way with his full black beard and huge brutish girth towering a good shoe size above my head. He had always been a big kid growing up (which may have initially ignited my whorish lust for big hairy guys), but his hulking frame had finally reached the pinnacle of a rich solidness from his many formative years playing school sports.

I had been sitting on the couch channel surfing most of the afternoon when he burst through the door. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come home pissed in those days. His football coach had been riding him pretty hard to get his grades up so he could have a better selection of schools he wanted to play for after graduation. It was however very uncommon for him to come through the door so ruffled that he snatched the remote right out of my hand.

“What the hell?” I growled at him.

He didn’t hear me. He was completely zoned out looking for the TV to bring him back and then he mumbled, “I could’ve really gone for a blowjob!”

“What?” I pretended not to hear him clearly.

Duane quickly glanced at me like he just realized I was there next to him and kindly handed me back the remote with a flash of an apologetic beam. “Sorry, man, lost my head for a minute. Sorry.”

Although Duane was older and twice my size, he was usually a pussycat off the gridiron and extra sweet on me for whatever reason. He knew it was still an adjustment for me and my widowed mother to come live with him and his grandpa, my mom’s older brother.

“Coach?” I questioned and answered for him.

“Yeah,” Duane groaned. “Same old shit.”

“It’s going to be alright, man.” I patted him on his hard broad back. “Just a few more weeks to go and then it’ll all be over with.” I spoke of the football season.

He got off the sofa, his code for he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He disappeared through the darkness of the dining room into the kitchen on the other side.

“What’s on the menu today?”

“Your favorite: Chicken parmigiana.” I said catching up with him in the refrigerator door. I reached under his huge muscular arm to grab the container of it.

Heating up the food was my job.

Because I made it home before everybody else, I could have eaten long before he got there. But I made it a habit to wait for him instead. Ever since we were little, I had always had a secret man-crush on him. Being that he was my cousin and all, I was sure it wasn’t likely to go anywhere. Still, there was no denying that he was a big sexy teddy bear. And when he flashed that gorgeous smile of his and that big dimple in his right cheek showed up, I enjoyed resisting the urge to melt like putty in his hands every time I made him laugh during a meal.

“How was your day?” Duane asked digging into his hot plate of food, leaning against our favorite ringside spot on the kitchen counter.

I told him about my day. There wasn’t much going on, just Thanksgiving being around the corner. I asked him about his world outside of football. He seemed to be doing pretty well catching me up on the latest antics of girls at his school. Next to being big and tall and adorably handsome, he was also an incredible babe magnet with a promising career guaranteed to go pro.

We had just dumped our plates cleaned into the sink when I looked over at him constantly shifting about. First, leaning into the counter and then bent double to get as far away from it as possible, all the while keeping eye contact like there was nothing the matter. Then between his shifting, when he stood up straight for a brief moment, I saw the big bulge he was trying to hide.

“Why’s your dick hard, man?” I blurt out accidentally.

“Why are you looking?”

“Kind of hard to miss, man,” I said playfully swatting the front of it with my flat palm.

The move wasn’t sexual. It was just me blithely pointing out I couldn’t miss the gigantic tent he had staring me in my face.

“Girls, man, girls,” he blushed uncontrollably. Going on to explain he spent most of the day being teased by this easy girl that promised to suck him off after practice only to be reamed out by his coach instead.

“I guess you weren’t lying about going for a blowjob right about now, huh? You’ve been walking around with blue balls most of the day?”

His face reddened, embarrassed more than anything. I don’t think he thought he mumbled that out loud earlier.

“Why don’t you go beat off or something?” I suggested.

He looked at me. He didn’t say anything for long awhile like I wasn’t supposed to know he didn’t do that out there on the sofa where he slept most nights.

“I mean I would,” I confess to make him feel less uncomfortable. “I hadn’t done anything since we moved in three months ago.”

“Why don’t you join me then? Circle jerk or something?”

“No…nasty,” I answered him back before I had a chance to really think about the question. His dick…seeing his dick.

He bit his bottom lip. “Since you already know I’m hard. You want to see it then?”

The concept wasn’t that foreign to me. I had seen him naked plenty of times. This was just my first invitation to do so. Still, I pretended not to hear him as I headed back into the living room. He followed shortly thereafter like the previous conversation never even happened.

It was like during the second or third commercial break I reached behind us to close the curtains and looked up at the clock. We had about an hour before anybody else showed up. “Okay then,” I blurted with his dick firmly dancing in my head. Before he could ask what I was talking about I told him to “Stand up.”

His smirk turned into an infectious smile once I positioned him in front of the locked door. He tried to go for his pants and whip it out on his own, but I stopped him. I reached under his tee shirt and ran my fingers through the warm black forest of hair that matted his big solid belly.

“That feels really good,” he said to the massage as he tucked the bottom of his shirt under his chin egging me to pull down his pants and let it free.

Duane always wore shorts or sweatpants after practice, so it wasn’t difficult for me to undo them. As soon as I started tugging at the elastic waistband, I was hit by the hard sweaty must of an unwashed football practice and instantly turned on by his enormous cock pointing downward with these big sagging balls chasing after the big, inflated head.

“You can touch it…if you want.”

I hesitated but I did. It was so big and hot I could barely wrap my hands around it without it getting cramped or burned by his hot flesh. Despite his staggering height over me, he surprised me by planting a kiss on my lips. When I came back to from wherever I had gone my hand was free and my pants were bunched up somewhere above my knees courtesy of his big skilled football-playing paws.

He pulled his pants down as well and stepped out of them, leaving them ringed on the floor at the bottom of his thick-calved socks. His shirt soon followed showing off more of his mountainous chest covered in the dense jungle of hair and pink nipples playfully hiding underneath the overgrowth.

“Come out of your clothes.” Duane suggested.

I did.

“What now?” I asked feeling as if we had gone beyond jacking off together.

“How about you go down on me?”

I was old enough to know better than to play dumb, pretend like I didn’t know what he was talking about, but my mouth went dry just the same. Even though I had thought about going down on him many of times before that day, I’d never done anything like that before. Period. I wasn’t sure if I would even be good at it. If it wasn’t bad enough that I was already a slow learner, and with my mouth being so small and him being so big I was naturally terrified he might choke me to death with that enormous thing. Then there was the looming fear that after I did it, he would play me like he did some of his cocksucking girlfriends.

“You don’t got to,” he assured me, wiping the budding tear from the corner of my eye with his big strong hands. “I was just asking.”

“But you want me to suck you off, right?” I asked, grabbing the inflated tip of his hard cock.

He nodded. “You don’t got to, Mikey.” Then he asked me, “Have you ever been sucked off?”

I wanted to lie. To successfully tell him that I had was to sound older and more experienced than I really was, but we both knew that wasn’t true. I was a virgin in every sense of the word.

I finally shook my head.

“If I sucked you off, would that make you feel more comfortable sucking me off?”

I nodded.

Duane dropped to his knees. His big, bearded head ended up well above my stomach almost into my chest. I tried stepping back to give him more room, but he kept me in place, taking my cock into his big rough hands. He started to fumble with it, stroking it roughly, no less than his manly size and big cock demanded, though it felt weird more than anything else, like an old damp washcloth rubbing firmly against it. But before I could use to this other hand working on me like this he slid back on the floor, leaned forward, and slipped me into his mouth.

He seemed to be more skilled at this than I could’ve ever imagined. His tongue felt incredible sliding against my cock. My legs seemed to want to open when I felt his hand work its way back to my butt. I let out a gasp when his finger wanted in on my puckered hole. It hurt but felt good at the same time, especially when he stayed circling around the sweaty-wet rim. I gasped instead of groaned when his beard tickled my balls.

“No,” I cried feeling a second finger joining the first one deep in my hole.

I wanted to come, but I also wanted him to suck me off more. Except when I looked down and saw his mouth wrapped around my cock, he started tapping something inside of my hole with that finger of his that made me feel like I wanted to pee. The feeling was quickly replaced when I felt something shake inside of me and then I felt my balls tightened up.

“No!” I screamed, “no, no, no…no…no…no! Ah fuck, fuck…fuck! Fuck…fuck! Yes…fuck…yes!” I muttered cried blasting a load so intense it felt like I was passing a grapefruit out of my urethra.

Duane swallowed loudly, gurgling and snorting on it while digging his two fingers deeper into my hole, pushing that button that seemed to work so well in his favor before. He pushed it even harder and I shot a couple of more spurts, one less powerful than the last before I saw it dribble down his heavy beard with delightful satisfaction written on his face.

“How was that?” Duane asked fucking me with his two fingers some more.

I was breathless. I couldn’t answer. I just continued to stumble backwards after he yanked his two fingers from back there, too tired and weak to even stand up straight.

I was leaning against the stereo system when my eyes seemed to want to come into focus. Duane was still on his knees, but he was looking back at me with a knowing smile, showing off that sexy dimple of his. Even with the white ribbon of sperm embedded in his beard, I wanted nothing more than to go over there and be with him but my legs felt stiff, like lead.

Duane was still on his knees when I somehow got back to him. He stood up and kissed me with the same mouth that he had pleasured me with. But when I grabbed his cock and started to go down on him, like we agreed, he stopped me. “You’re tired, man. Besides, we don’t have a whole lot of time left. Gramps will be here any minute. Maybe some other time,” he said, as we both looked at the clock and saw that our hour was up, only to confirm that we finished in the knick of time as we heard his grandpa pull up in the driveway moments later.

Duane didn’t seem like he was in any rush to disappear into the bathroom leaving me to round up his dirty clothes to toss in the washer on the other side of the house. My sore-covered rear slid hard into the couch just in time for Uncle Thom to come through the door to pretend like the last sixty minutes or so never even happened.