Bankers' Hours(30)

I gasped again. Of course I did. I could not imagine anyone seeing  something that large and not being surprised by it. Straight and long,  the thing reached his navel. He could beat baby seals to death with it. I  gulped air, wishing I had a drink of water to wet my throat. I was even  more nervous now, looking at it. I stretched my fingers wide and held  my hand above it, measuring. My long piano-player fingers measured about  ten inches from the tip of my pinkie to the end of my thumb. He had to  be that long!

"What are you doing?"

I snapped my face in his direction as I snatched my hand back. "Nothing."

He chuckled. "It's nine and a half inches long, five and a half around."

I gaped. "That's huge! How is that supposed to fit inside of me? Because I tried a cucumber once, and that didn't work."

I thought he'd have some witty comeback, especially about the cucumber,  but instead he closed his eyes and groaned. I saw his dick twitch out of  the corner of my eye. It pulsed on its own, precome dripping from the  tip. I whispered, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Grant, if you don't do something …  soon …  I'm going to need to take care of it myself."

He got my attention. "Oh. I'm sorry." I pulled the covers off the rest  of the way and then situated myself between his legs. Tristan bent his  knees and spread them wider for me to have room. Before I even touched  him, I had to ask, "Um, are you clean? I could get a wet towel and  wipe-"

"I took a shower at five and then again before I came over here. I knew  you'd appreciate it if I smelled like soap and not sweat since your  sheets are so fresh."

I sat up, looked at him, and sighed. "Aww, thank you. I do like to have fresh sheets. I change them once a week."

"I'm lucky if I remember once a month."

"Eww. Remind me to wash your sheets the next time I'm there." I crouched  back down and eyed his assets. He was well groomed; I'd give him that.  Big balls, drawn up tight. I ran my palm over his sac. His testicles  shifted, and I grinned.

I stuck my face between his legs and sniffed his balls. Soap. He wasn't  kidding. I figured licking straight up his scrotum was the easiest way  to ease into something I'd never done. I kind of liked the feel of his  wrinkled skin on my tongue. It didn't taste like anything. I wiggled my  tongue over his sensitive skin, and Tristan groaned. When I opened wide  and drew his sac into my mouth, gently sucking on one nut, I tingled  listening to him moan my name.

I pulled my knees under me, crouching as I grabbed the base of his  javelin. I snickered, thinking it could definitely skewer  someone-hopefully not me. There was no way I'd get it all in my mouth,  but for him I would do my best to stimulate its head. I licked across  his frenulum and around the ridge of his mushroom head. The skin was  surprisingly smooth. I lapped a long lick up the vein that ran up the  center of his penis, and then dared to pop him into my mouth.

Tristan slapped the bed and twisted the sheet in his fist. "Grant, baby …   oh, fuck yes!" Tristan rasped as he laid his hand on my head. I lowered  my mouth until his dick hit the back of my throat.

I choked and pulled off right away, causing him to whimper. I had to  make sure I wasn't going to puke before I went down again, but I was  fine. No bile. I opened wide and slipped my lips around his oozing head,  holding his cock erect at the base. I licked and bobbed but didn't go  down as far as the first time. I didn't want to gag again.

I was really getting into it, and I enjoyed his little grunts and gasps  and how he fingered my hair. I stroked his inner thigh with my free hand  as well as fondling his balls. I loved the feel of his silky smooth  shaft against my lips and even the ache in my jaw as I stretched my  mouth wide enough to take him in. I could feel his vein with my tongue  as I licked him, and I tasted the drops of precome that seeped from his  slit.                       
       
           



       

He groaned and held the back of my head but didn't force me to swallow  him deeper. For him I tried one more time, but I came up for air before I  gagged. I knew with practice I'd be able to suck on more of him at  once, but for now the first few inches would have to do. His cockhead  was too wide for my inexperienced throat.

"Use your hand," he suggested.

I released his heavy rod from my mouth and used my hand, sliding it up  and down with my saliva as lube. I could tell it was drying up too  quickly, so I spit on him. It seemed so undignified. If he liked me  sucking and pumping my fist at the same time, I'd have to find flavored  lube or something. Making him chafe would be horrible. It was still too  dry, and I was the one rubbing, so I lowered my mouth over him and timed  my fist pumps with the bobbing of my head. After a few up and down  motions and lots of saliva all over my hand and his dick, Tristan  gripped my hair and started panting.

"Grant …  oh …  I'm gonna …  Grant … ," he hissed between clenched teeth.

I knew what was about to happen. Hearing him moan for it turned me on. I  reached inside my boxers and jerked. I needed to come too. I thought  I'd be brave enough to swallow his load, but I chickened out at the last  second. I was afraid I'd gag. I kept pumping my hand as he erupted,  wave after wave of sticky ropes. Seeing him shoot prompted me, and I  emptied in my underwear. At least my seed was contained. Tristan's  splooge got all over his chest and my hand, down his balls, and even a  splotch on my cheek.

"Damn!" I marveled. "I didn't know there was that much in there."

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss me. "It's been pent up." He winked  and wiped the gunk off my cheek. "Did you come?" he asked, noticing my  hand inside my waistband.

I nodded.

That pleased him. "Nice. Then I guess we both need to get cleaned up."  Tristan cupped his junk and slid off the side of the bed. I think he was  trying to keep his semen from getting on my sheets, but there were  still a few obvious spots. His cock seriously had exploded like a  volcano.

I scrambled off, keeping my hand in my boxers with all the mess. I met  him in the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and hopped in. He  explained, "It's easier. That shit's all over me."

I shrugged. "Feel free." When he closed the curtain, I inspected my  face. I needed to wash it even if I didn't see any of Tristan's  evidence. Actually, I needed to wash all of me just like Tristan was  doing, but I didn't want to undress in front of him. I wanted his  fantasy of a pretty guy to last a little longer. My body wasn't pretty.  It was undefined and pale as a sheet, with a little pudge from eating  too many cupcakes last year. I still hadn't lost the weight I'd gained.

"Are you getting in?" Tristan asked, poking his head out.

I shook my head nervously.

That damn eye of his twitched. His face disappeared, and seconds later  he turned the water off. He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried  behind the curtain. When he pushed it back and stepped out, he had the  towel securely wrapped around his waist. He came up to me and gently  traced my jaw. "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"Are you afraid to let me see you naked?"

I hated how transparent I was to him. I looked down.

Tristan brought my chin back up. "You don't have anything to worry about, Grant."

I stepped back and scoffed. "Yes, I do. Look at you!" I gestured at his  gorgeous body, tanned and dripping wet like a surfer model on the cover  of Men's Health. All he needed was a surfboard under his arm and a palm  tree in the background. "You're perfect. And then there's me," I stated,  sweeping my hand down my length. "Your exact opposite."

"Grant, I don't care what you look like."

I cried out and covered my mouth, shrinking back toward the door.

Tristan reached out and clarified. "That's not what I mean, and you know  it. I think you're beautiful, Grant. How many times have I told you?"

"You haven't seen me naked."

"Then enlighten me. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm hideous!"

"Why? Do you have a reconstructed chest?" he asked, probably making fun of me even though he sounded sincere.

"No." I rolled my eyes.

"A third eye where your nipple should be?"

I almost laughed but held it in. "No."

"A donkey's ass tattooed around your belly button?"

I snorted but recovered quickly. This was serious. "No. I just don't  look like you." I turned and bolted from the bathroom. The quarters were  too close to argue about something he obviously didn't get.