On the Couch

Tim objected to smoking pot, his first black mark, detraction, we’ll call it.

But, you know, he never says no himself when I hand him the joint.

And, true to form, he got a very big hard cock in his jeans the moment the dope hit him. As much as he objected to smoking, pot makes him horny, because, of any of them, pot is a good sex drug. Sure, if you want to feel wasted, off your face, sex machine, don’t give a fuck, there are better drugs, but if you want to feel lovely, touchy feely, with the boy you like the best, pot is hard to beat.

“Is this the first time you have smoked pot?” I asked, the first time we ever shared it.

“This is the first time I have smoked anything.” I hesitated momentarily, was I about to do a bad thing? Nah. Just take a few puffs, you can always have more. (it is hard to come back from too much to start with.

(And he hasn't turned it down since)

He sure looked sexy like that, all droopy-eyed and flushed face. 

I went and sat next to him and slid my hand into his pants. Fuck, his hot, hard, clammy, thick cock felt nice in my hand like that, his precum dribbling foreskin. He was like rock, like steel, no matter which way I squeezed it, it felt thick and hard. 

I pulled at the buttons on his fly and then there he was, with his beautiful dick sticking through his open jeans, all thick and hard and throbbing. 

He pulled at the buttons on my jeans and I slid my jocks down under my balls. My cock was hard like one of those thick bananas you see in the fruit shop and just have to buy.

He pulled his t-shirt off. He’s got a great chest and beautiful strawberry nipples.

I could feel his whole life, all of his power, his energy force, with every slip of my skin over his skin. Every part of him felt good.

I bent down and sucked his cock in my mouth. His thick, hot, hard cock. He squirmed and grunted. I sucked the head, got his knob in the roof of his mouth, and that sensitive bit just below the head on the flat of my tongue. I sucked him like I wanted to eat his cock whole.

He stayed quiet, just grunts and groans and the occasional inhale. I decided to talk, since he was so quiet. “Thanks for being so sexy.” 

He looked sideways at me and smiled.

I leant forward and kissed him. I told him nothing felt better than kissing his lips. We kissed. 

I told him I loved playing with it... and it came up, full of blood. It was like steel. I lubed it up, and pulled it. I stroked my hand up and down it. I kissed his cherry lips, as I slid my hand up his hard cock, shone his know, and then felt the length of his shaft again.

“Oh, shit yeah,” he said. “That feels fucking good.”

I pulled him with long stroke. I pulled him with shot, hard strokes, where his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hand coming up to stop me making him cum.

More lube. Wet, dripping hardon. I pulled him with long horizontal strokes, that reach right along his shaft to his balls. Dripping with lube, I pulled his slippery cock hard. 

His cock turned to steel, he gasped for breath, grabbed my hand, and stopped me and spoofed himself right then and there, all over himself. I think it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

I masturbate him with his own cum, until he told me it was too much.

I licked his cum of his chest and from his cock and in his foreskin, swallowing it for the first time in ages.

He had to go after that. He just pulled his jeans up and buttoned up. Straightened his shirt. I patted his hair down, he took over the patting down duties.

“I want to see you soon,” he said.

I want to see him soon, too. “Me too.”

“Good, we agree,” he said. “I hoped you would.”

He got his stuff and left.