Ai Uehara

Subject: Learning to Eat Cum Learning to Eat Cum By Danny Smith Some of the stories I post are fiction, others are based on my real life experiences, still others a mixture. This one is 100% true. It’s the story of how my brother turned me into a cocksucker. We were sexual active for several years, and it wasn’t a little of that innocent fooling around that guys go through sometimes. This was an intense, hot, highly sexual affair that lasted all through high school If you’re interested read on. My brother and I shared a bedroom, although not the same bed. He was two years older, and we were different in a lot of ways. He was athletic, popular with all kinds of kids at school, but not real great in the classroom. I was something of a nerd, a little shy, had a few close friends but not a lot. To say that I admired him is an understatement, but in a lot of ways he envied me because I was real smart and school work came naturally to me. I even helped him with his homework, even though he was taking classes I hadn’t had yet. The thing I guess I admired most, on a physical level, was his beautiful body. He was really hairy even from a young age. He started getting hair around his dick at age eleven. By 13 he had hair all over his belly and around both nipples. It got thicker every year and by the time he was 17 he was a full wall-to-wall shag carpet. I had a little myself, but nothing like that. Living in the same bedroom we naturally were aware of all the times that one or the other of us was jacking off. It seemed like a perfectly normal thing. We were friendly, not competitive, and supported each other. Our saying was “you take care of me at home and I’ll take care of you at school,” meaning I would do his homework, sometimes his chores, and he would keep anyone from picking on me at school. I loved him for it. When he was 15 mom and dad bought him a motor cycle, actually more of a motor scooter. We grew up in West Virginia (please no “you’re all related” jokes) and you could get a learner’s permit at 15. One day he was involved in an accident, not super bad, but he skidded into some gravel and scraped his hands pretty good. They were bandaged and he was kind of hamstrung for a couple of weeks. One night when we were both lying in our beds, I started to jack off when Steve said “Danny, can you give me a hand?” After a few seconds I knew what he meant, he meant help him jack off. I was excited and eager. I crawled into bed with him, and hesitantly reached out for his penis. My stomach was churning as I pictured how “wrong” this was, but kocaeli escort bayan how “right” it felt. The way our bodies were positioned, lying beside each other, made it kind of awkward for me to get a good rhythm going. We tried a couple of other positions and came up with the best one — me lying on my back, leaning against his headboard, with Steve on top of me, also lying on his back but between my legs and leaning against my chest. That way I could easily reach around his body and masturbate him almost like I was jacking my own dick. I gave him the best service I could and can still remember today how exciting it was for his body to stiffen against mine as he came. That started it all. From that night on it became our regular routine that I would “take care of him” not just by doing his chores but by “doing him.” A couple of times he asked me if I would kiss it, or put my mouth on it. I always declined. Too scary. Not experienced enough. But I knew he wanted it, and I wanted it too. A turning point came when one evening he came home fairly late from a date. He had been drinking. I’d been lying in bed thinking about him for hours, anticipating our session. When he came in, trying hard to be quiet and not wake up Mom and Dad, he opened the bedroom door and just stood in it bracing himself while swaying a little from all the beer. He said in a loud whisper, “come here, I need you to take care of me.” Something took over my mind. I got out of bed, walked over, knelt down in front of him, unbuckled his belt, and unfastened his jeans. As I pulled them down around his ankles and exposed his hairy legs, I said “I’ll do even better than that.” I pulled down his underwear and his beautiful, hairy dick was semi-hard just inches from my mouth. I looked up at him to get some sort of final permission. I worried for a minute that he was going to knock my block off, and had my answer all ready: “Hey I was kidding, you don’t think I’d do that do you?” But he didn’t hit me. Instead, he smiled down at me and said “Oh yeah man, go for it.” I opened my mouth and my world changed. I experienced one of the greatest sensations a man can have and that’s the feeling of another man’s dick in his mouth. I loved it. Steve loved it too, and quickly was rock hard. After just a few short moments of sucking I knew he was close. I pulled my mouth off and finished him by hand. That started a whole new level of intimacy. From then on, for the next several weeks, instead of jacking him off, I would suck him until he was close, then let him cum on my naked body. kocaeli sınırsız escort I learned a lot from his instructions. At first I used too much teeth, but he soon taught me better. I couldn’t take all of the length of it into my mouth and tended to gag if it got too far down my throat. He showed me how to get past that, how I should take a deep breath and as he was slowly shoving it down my throat I should exhale. Somehow that helped. I learned to hold it as long as I could, full length, my nose buried in his pubes, his balls smashed against my chin. Ecstasy. Total satisfaction. There was a new level waiting for me. One evening as I started my work, he patted the bed and said something like “sit up here; we need to talk.” I was puzzled and worried. Was he going to cut us off? Was he feeling guilty? What he actually said was “Look, if you’re going to keep sucking my cock, you’ve got to stay on it. I need to cum in your mouth. And you need to swallow it.” I panicked. “No way, I can’t do that. It’s…dirty. I..I..I’ll choke.” He assured me it was fine. “Hey, man, no. Chicks do it all the time. It’s safe. Healthy even. And it won’t taste bad.” He offered to help me get used to it, and he was as good as his word. He let me finish him off as usual that evening, but this time, instead of me heading for the bathroom to clean up, he had me lie down on the bed. His cum had coated part of my face and chest. Steve scooped it up in his hand. He touched one finger into the palm of his hand and said “stick out your tongue.” I obeyed and he raised his finger to my mouth letting a beautiful drop of cum land on my tongue. “Taste it.” I did. “Okay now you’ve tasted cum. It’s okay isn’t it?” I couldn’t speak. I was quivering with excitement. He got more on his fingers, putting a larger glob on my tongue. “Swallow.” I did. “Okay now you’ve swallowed cum.” He held out his hand to me with the rest of his load puddled in the palm. “Lick it up.” I did. I was hooked. From that point on our relationship became different. Our goal every evening (with a few exceptions) was to find a way to get the semen out of his balls and into my stomach in the most pleasurable way possible. We experimented with different positions, techniques, and rhythms. I became an expert cocksucker and I’ve thanked Steve ever since, every time I take a load or give another man the satisfaction of using my mouth. There was a final level of intimacy. Our routine might start with me lying face up on his bed with my head hanging over the edge while he izmit anal yapan escort stood above me and fucked my face. It would usually end up with me on my knees worshiping his manhood until he shook with spasms of pleasure shooting his load. I loved it when he would hold my head between his strong hands, controlling the moment. Sometimes he would thrust his member deep down my throat at the moment of climax, forcing his seed straight into my stomach. Other times, he would approach that final moment by withdrawing all but the head from my mouth then standing motionless, stock still except for the pulsing contractions of his penis, filling my mouth with his juice. He liked to make me hold it in my mouth, sometimes for minutes. And he liked to make me open my mouth so he could see the jizz. Then he’d tell me to swallow. But regardless of how the session began, it always ended with the two of us sleeping in his bed, me lying beside him with my head on his shoulder. I would play with his hairy chest, running my fingers through the thick brown hair, until we fell asleep. But one evening I was feeling more satisfied, more intimate, and closer to him than ever. I gently kissed his shoulder. Then when he didn’t protest, I just as gently kissed his neck. He turned his face toward mine. We kissed on the lips. I know most people would think that the initial steps we took were the most intimate, but that’s not true. It was that kiss, and all the hundreds of kisses that followed, that made me who I am today. We were truly lovers from that point on. We reveled in the word incest. We couldn’t conceive of anyone else having the gift that we had. The passion, the love, between us was a beautiful thing, and the fact that we were brothers made it almost sacred. This bliss lasted several years, until Steve turned 18. He moved out and a short time later joined the military. He was shipped overseas for Desert Storm. When he came back he soon married and not much later moved out of state. I guess I should add that the whole time that we were lovers (and that’s what it was) Steve and I were both dating girls. Today I’m married with two kids, Steve is married with three of his own. We get together once or twice a year, if we’re lucky, for holidays like Thanksgiving. The only time we’ve had intimacy since we were adults was at a Thanksgiving celebration a few years ago when after the eating and during the halftime of a TV ballgame we managed to slip off upstairs. It was only for about three or four minutes, but once again we embraced. While kissing him I felt him up and he did the same to me. No sex, but it was still a wonderful moment. If we had the opportunity today to recreate those intensely sexual years, would we do it? I don’t know. I would want to for sure, but I’m not sure about where Steve is on the issue now. We don’t really talk about it.

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