Does it make me gay?
So I’ve sucked other men’s dicks.
I love women. I love the feel of a woman’s body. The soft flesh of her breast and the supple firmness of her ass. I love the scent of her skin and perfume. The heat of her touch and the soft fury in her lustful eyes. The taste and aroma of her sex. I’ve loved them since I first felt the gushing of feminine orgasm.
There are things that people consider gross. Hell, when I was young, I wouldn’t have thought of putting my tongue on a woman’s asshole, much less a man’s dick. The hell of it was, I sucked a dick before I ever had the nerve to fuck a girl. It just worked out that way.
Back to what I thought was gross. I promise I wasn’t looking for a dick to suck. Never even thought of doing it. Yeah, I’d heard of guys doing it, but only in derogatory and sophomoric ways. Dirty jokes and slanderous insults. You know how high school boys are. I didn’t hold anything against homosexuals. Didn’t even know any. I was just part of the eighties culture when it wasn’t as mainstream as today. Maybe accepted would be a better word than mainstream.
Think about it though, when you are in the passions of sex, you do things off the cuff that you might not otherwise do. Lick her asshole or whatever you thought was gross. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself. At least that’s how it was for me.
That night will live in my memory until the day I die. It was a Friday afternoon. My best friend, David, and I were in my old rusted out Ford pickup. Two shotguns hung in the back window. Both of us, sixteen years old and not a fucking care. We were young and free. It was September and still hotter than a mother fucker.
Back in those days, you could buy beer at eighteen years old. I wasn’t worried. I could buy a case of Schafer’s or Milwaukee’s Best for six bucks down at Darbun Country Store. They were far enough back in the woods that they didn’t bother with asking for ID. As long as you had the money, you could buy beer, cigarettes or whatever you wanted. We didn’t smoke so a twelve-pack and a ten-pound bag of boiled crawfish and we were headed to the creek.
As I said, that night is a memory as vivid as a red blanket to a wild bull. From the big assed armadillo that was unlucky enough to meet my front tire on the back road all the way through the time it happened. I still think about it some nights. Sitting on my front porch with that old familiar beer buzz. That fucking night.
I don’t know what time it was. Had to be past midnight. I had several beers in me and David did too. We weren’t drunk. Just a heavy buzz. We were full of crawfish and nabs. What’s a nab? Hell, where have you been all your life? Nabs are what we call those orange crackers with the peanut butter in between them. Our backs against a pine tree and our asses on the ground, we talked about girls and guns.
Yeah, we were country. The subject of Miss McKenzie came up. We both thought she was smoking hot. I told him about the time I dropped my pencil and got a look up her skirt. How tight those cotton panties stretched over her mound. How creamy white her thighs were.
“My dick is hard just thinking about it,” I joked.
“Mine too,” David said, finishing his beer, “And I didn’t even see it.”
“If she were here now,” I said, popping the top of my fifth beer, “I think I’d let her suck my cock.”
“I don’t think she would want that little shrimp of a dick,” my friend joked, “I think she would rather my loggerhead.”
I was feeling good and mellow by then, taking a double gulp, “Sounds like you’ve been peeping at the urinal, buddy,” I prodded, “You a little limp in the wrist?”
“Stiff in the dick is more like it,” he countered, “Nothing limp here.”
“Me too,” I affirmed, “Too bad she isn’t here.”
“Yeah,” David agreed.
The night was hot and the stars bright overhead. The beer was almost gone. I fished one out of the cooler for him and one for myself. Nothing left but a few Cokes. My buzz was strong now. Still not drunk but not far from it. I tossed him his last beer and sat back down next to him, “To Miss McKenzie and her panties,” I said holding my can of beer out for a toast.
“Fuck her panties,” David laughed, “I want that pussy.”
“You ain’t getting that pussy tonight,” I said, shaking my head, “But I tell you what. I’ve been fucking hard for two hours. I’ll make a deal with you.”
“What deal?” He slurred, the beer doing its job.
I don’t know why I said it. Joking maybe. But I said it. I said it out loud, “You suck my dick and I’ll return the favor.”
“Fuck you,” he laughed.
“No,” I answered, “No fucking, just a suck.”
“Okay, then,” he challenged, “You got a deal. Whip it out.”
“Bullshit,” I laughed, “You ain’t got a hair on your ass.”
“You’re just afraid that you will have to keep up your end of the deal. So whip it out or stop writing checks with your mouth that your ass can’t cash.”
“I’ll write you a check,” I slurred through the haze of six beers, pushing myself to my feet. My balance was off a bit and I nearly fell on my ass again as I unbuckled my belt and pushed my jeans to my knees. My cock stood straight out from my hips, pointing at his face, “Time to cash that check.”
David sat there, eyes bugged out like saucers. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Just inches from his nose was my hard white dick. It throbbed, as I stood naked in front of him, bouncing up and down with every rapid beat of my young heart. It seemed an eternity that I stood there naked. I wondered what would happen, half hoping he would back down. Again hoping he wouldn’t. As I watched him down the last of his beer, something changed in his expression.
Trepidations melted away, replaced by a determination. It was my turn to stare, bug-eyed. My best friend of ten years took my cock in his mouth. What the hell was happening? My heart raced and my head swooned. I could feel the heat of his wet tongue sliding up and down my shaft. I heard myself moan.
Looking back, he didn’t know what he was doing. What the hell? I didn’t know any better. I had nothing to compare him to. I’d never had sex other than with my hand. All I knew was that I was getting my dick sucked.
He stopped long enough to warn me not to come in his mouth, “Let me know when you’re ready,” he said.
I just nodded in agreement, not making eye contact. I felt him grasp my shaft with his right hand, metering how far he could take me in his mouth. He had already gagged a couple of times.
It only took a few minutes. I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened. I felt it welling up deep in my groin and before I could say anything, it happened. My balls drew up on both sides of my shaft, sending a load of cum spewing into David’s mouth.
He coughed most of it back out onto my groin and thighs, gagging and choking on my seed. My cock continued to erupt even after he took it from his mouth. My knees buckled and I braced against the tree.
“Fuck,” he coughed, “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“I’m sorry,” I breathlessly gasped, my cock still convulsing, dripping its white emission, “It was an accident. I tried but it just happened.”
“Well,” he said, spitting and coughing, “It’s your turn”
I had gotten myself into this. Anyone else and I would have balked. This was David. I couldn’t do him like that, “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed, “Give me a minute to catch my breath.”
He was wiping his face with a paper napkin from the crawfish bag. There was cum everywhere. His face and hands were wet with it. His shirt, stained and his Levi’s, dotted by droplets.
“What does it taste like?” I asked nervously.
“You’re gonna find out,” he grumbled, “Just wait.”
“Hey,” I protested, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Whatever, mother fucker,” he spat, standing to his feet, “Get ready to suck.”
I watched him push his jeans to his knees. His body swayed from the effects of the alcohol. I was pulling my jeans up when he stumbled backward and fell on his naked ass, his thick cock pointing up at the sky. He tried to stand up again but couldn’t. He was drunk. “Just stay there,” I said, “You’re going to fall in the fucking creek if you stand up.”
I crawled to him on my hands and knees, just as drunk as he, “Really, what does it taste like?”
“I don’t know. It’s like,” he answered, his words drawn out in a slur, “I don’t fucking know.”
He laid back on the ground and I took a close look at his hard dick. He wasn’t as long as me but he was thick and uncircumcised. His balls were big and tightly drawn up to his body. It was time to pay up.
I looked up at him and thought for a second that he had passed out. Maybe I would get away without having to do it. But I was wrong.
“What are you waiting for?” He grumbled, “Suck my dick you gay fucker.”
I shook my head as he laughed at himself. It was now or never. I took his dick in my hand and then in my mouth. He tasted of sweat. I figured I must have too. It was a strange feeling, his cock pulsating in my mouth. His pubic hairs tickled my nose but I bobbed my head up and down his short shaft.
I could taste a salty flavor that seemed to be concentrated at the tip of his head. I figured out later that it was pre cum. I moved purposefully slow, trying to determine how close he was to climax. I was worried that he wouldn’t warn me before coming I don’t think I would blame him after what had happened.
I probably wasn’t doing any better than he did but I was trying to get through it as quickly as I could. His breathing grew deeper and his hips bucked slightly. He was getting close, “Fuck, Terry, that feels good,” he moaned.
I was surprised to hear him say that but at the same time, I was strangely encouraged. I was doing a good job. My head bobbed slowly and I was determined that I could bring him to orgasm quickly. Taking him from my mouth, I pulled his foreskin back and licked around his cock head, evoking a moan.
The salty taste grew thicker as I took him back in. I could feel the hard lumps of his balls on my cheeks when I had his length in my mouth. I was pulling back up when it happened. He didn’t bother warning me.
In the blink of an eye, my mouth was full of his cum. I kept sucking.
The taste was unexpected but not unpleasant. Don’t ask me why but I swallowed hard, drinking his seed in as he continued to fill my mouth. Another gulp and another and I felt him begin to wilt. I let him slip from my mouth, limp and spent. I leaned back against the tree and noticed that my friend was unconscious.
That was my first time. Over the next two years, we didn’t talk about it. We both had girlfriends but we did repeat our secret probably a couple of dozen times.
After graduation and college, we both married and started families. My kids are grown as are his. And we are still best friends. Just friends. The game stopped after high school. As far as I know, he has lived a heterosexual life other than those two years.
For the most part, I have as well. There have been times though that I’ve slipped away to a local adult bookstore just to visit the glory hole. I don’t know how many dicks I’ve actually sucked. Probably a hundred or so.
I don’t think of myself as gay or even bisexual. It’s just that I have a desire that boils to the surface from time to time. That doesn’t make me gay. Does it?
