Out Jogging When Tim Stepped Up Beside Me At The Lights
I sucked his cock, good and hard, it felt good in my mouth. He moaned like he liked it. He had a nice dick, big and straight and hard. His name was Tim, he said he had a girlfriend who wouldn’t understand. I was going for a jog passed Melbourne uni. He just kind of looked at me and I knew he was on. I wasn’t really looking for it, not really, I was just out running, enjoying the sun shine, headphones on. But he looked keen, thick, dark hair, widow’s peak, which is a bit of a weakness for me. Sparkly eyes, nice smile.
He held my gaze at the lights, Swanston and Elgin. We headed down a laneway behind one of the buildings there, when everyone else crossed the road. It was that easy. I wondered if I was misreading the situation, hoping I wasn’t, knowing in my heart that I wasn’t. That familiar buzz, it comes back to you quickly. He got behind a dumpster and took his cock out and said he wanted to be sucked. Nice and thick, uncut. He looked nervous, I reckoned he was 20 years old, I should have felt his arse crack for dew. He said he was third year. He lived in the eastern suburbs with his parents. He’d turned 20 at the beginning of the year and had been dating his girlfriend Emily since year 11. He looked like a private school boy, he said he was. Preppy.
His cock dribbled a fair amount of precum and it was hard like a metal bar, or a clenched fist. It was nice to suck, nice and smooth and shinny. I sucked him hard, he tasted good. It didn’t take long before he was trembling in his ankles and then his legs and then he was holding my hair up on his tip toes and he shot his load next to my head, shaking as he shot the cum out of his beautiful dick, in big, white wads of man juice. Splat! Splat! Splat!
He shook his hands in flicks, as I got to my feet. It was enough to see him enjoy himself, I didn’t need to, besides, I haven’t had my cock out in the middle of the day since I was his age. And he didn’t seem to care, as he buttoned up his jeans with sticky fingertips, little fingers extended.
“I wanna do it again,” said Tim.
“I thought you were straight?”
“I a… I a… ahhhh…” the final sigh was like him letting go of all pretence.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I am. I guess. I don’t know?” said Tim.
He was tongue tied. “You don’t know if you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I mean, no I don’t know…”
“What?” He was goddam cute. We both laughed.
“I know.” He blushed. “I have one.” Was he flirting, or what? “A girlfriend, that is.” He smiled. He was adorable.
“What are you studying?”
“Law.”
“I should run a mile.”
“Why?”
“You are me 15 years ago.”
“How so?”
“Melb Uni. Law. I did it too.”
“Give me your number.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your number, you’re nice.”
“What about your girlfriend?
“What about her.”
“You need to tell her.”
“What?”
“Are you gay?”
“I don’t know?”
“Come on, you are going to have to do better than that.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.” He smiled. “Sure, I like it.”
I laughed.
“Don’t laugh.”
“You’re gay Timmy…”
He shrugged. “Don’t call me Timmy.” His eyes got really big.
He smiled. “Only my mum calls me Timmy.”
I gave him my number.
“Can I call you?”
“Sure, I wouldn’t have given you my number otherwise.”
He smiled. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” I said.
He walked away backwards. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” I said again.
He smiled. He’s damn cute, I felt drawn to him. “Fifteen years isn’t so much of an age difference, is it?”
“No,” I said. “But a girlfriend is a problem.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” I said.
He walked away, up the lane.
I pulled on my headphones.
He stopped again at the end of the laneway. He smiled. Waved. Then disappeared out of sight.
I chose U2’s Vertigo. I jogged out of the lane to Elgin Street. I couldn’t help but think of Tim. He made me smile. I laughed, which was a sign that I liked him. How on earth could I know if I liked him. Those things just happen sometimes, you know, you like someone.
He held my gaze at the lights, Swanston and Elgin. We headed down a laneway behind one of the buildings there, when everyone else crossed the road. It was that easy. I wondered if I was misreading the situation, hoping I wasn’t, knowing in my heart that I wasn’t. That familiar buzz, it comes back to you quickly. He got behind a dumpster and took his cock out and said he wanted to be sucked. Nice and thick, uncut. He looked nervous, I reckoned he was 20 years old, I should have felt his arse crack for dew. He said he was third year. He lived in the eastern suburbs with his parents. He’d turned 20 at the beginning of the year and had been dating his girlfriend Emily since year 11. He looked like a private school boy, he said he was. Preppy.
His cock dribbled a fair amount of precum and it was hard like a metal bar, or a clenched fist. It was nice to suck, nice and smooth and shinny. I sucked him hard, he tasted good. It didn’t take long before he was trembling in his ankles and then his legs and then he was holding my hair up on his tip toes and he shot his load next to my head, shaking as he shot the cum out of his beautiful dick, in big, white wads of man juice. Splat! Splat! Splat!
He shook his hands in flicks, as I got to my feet. It was enough to see him enjoy himself, I didn’t need to, besides, I haven’t had my cock out in the middle of the day since I was his age. And he didn’t seem to care, as he buttoned up his jeans with sticky fingertips, little fingers extended.
“I wanna do it again,” said Tim.
“I thought you were straight?”
“I a… I a… ahhhh…” the final sigh was like him letting go of all pretence.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I am. I guess. I don’t know?” said Tim.
He was tongue tied. “You don’t know if you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I mean, no I don’t know…”
“What?” He was goddam cute. We both laughed.
“I know.” He blushed. “I have one.” Was he flirting, or what? “A girlfriend, that is.” He smiled. He was adorable.
“What are you studying?”
“Law.”
“I should run a mile.”
“Why?”
“You are me 15 years ago.”
“How so?”
“Melb Uni. Law. I did it too.”
“Give me your number.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your number, you’re nice.”
“What about your girlfriend?
“What about her.”
“You need to tell her.”
“What?”
“Are you gay?”
“I don’t know?”
“Come on, you are going to have to do better than that.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.” He smiled. “Sure, I like it.”
I laughed.
“Don’t laugh.”
“You’re gay Timmy…”
He shrugged. “Don’t call me Timmy.” His eyes got really big.
He smiled. “Only my mum calls me Timmy.”
I gave him my number.
“Can I call you?”
“Sure, I wouldn’t have given you my number otherwise.”
He smiled. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” I said.
He walked away backwards. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” I said again.
He smiled. He’s damn cute, I felt drawn to him. “Fifteen years isn’t so much of an age difference, is it?”
“No,” I said. “But a girlfriend is a problem.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” I said.
He walked away, up the lane.
I pulled on my headphones.
He stopped again at the end of the laneway. He smiled. Waved. Then disappeared out of sight.
I chose U2’s Vertigo. I jogged out of the lane to Elgin Street. I couldn’t help but think of Tim. He made me smile. I laughed, which was a sign that I liked him. How on earth could I know if I liked him. Those things just happen sometimes, you know, you like someone.
Comments
Post a Comment