The Fortunes of Fausto (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  Do you remember the first time you sucked my cock? Gene had asked him, with characteristic bluntness.

  “As if I could ever forget it,” Fausto muttered out loud, his fingers lathering up his own genitals as he closed his eyes against the hot spray and let his memories take over his imagination.

  The blow job Gene had referred to had taken place a week after Gene had sucked Fausto off and swallowed his cum for the first time, in the little apartment above the Boudreaus’ garage.

  About the last thing Fausto had expected, at the time, was that he’d be going through the following week without any sort of sexual relief whatsoever. But that’s exactly what happened, to his considerable frustration.

  He’d already taken it for granted—he realized in retrospect—that he and Gene had “a thing” going together. The two guys continued to see each other at football practice, and they got together for workouts twice—once at the school, then again at Gene’s house. But, although Fausto waited uneasily for Gene to say something sexually suggestive or make some physical gesture, nothing happened. It was as though they’d never touched each other intimately at all!

  Too embarrassed to come right out with it and ask Gene why he was suddenly acting so coy about it, Fausto tried to concentrate on their workouts and on getting to know the other young jock as a person, rather than just as a sex object. Gene, so easygoing and unaffected, was fun to be around, quite aside from the sex thing, and Fausto always enjoyed his company.

  His disappointment inevitably led to masturbation one night. As Fausto lay in his bed nude and tried to fall asleep, he couldn’t help thinking about what Gene had done to him with his mouth and how good it had felt to be blown so well. Instinctively, without his even touching it, his cock swelled into urgent, demanding erection under the sheet that was all that covered his naked body. Fausto tried to stop himself from gripping it and jerking off, but his damned hard-on simply refused to go away, and he knew that he’d end up tossing and turning restlessly all night if he didn’t give in to his lust and masturbate to orgasm.

  While his hand—calloused from gripping the knurled steel barbells—jerked his fuck tool quickly and efficiently toward a spurting climax, he thought about the blow job Gene had given him—thought about Gene’s wet, agile tongue, licking his prickshaft everywhere, the obscene slurping noises his lips had made as they caressed the hard, throbbing cock, and his guttural groans of pleasure as he swallowed Fausto’s jism with such lewd hunger.

  And that hadn’t been the end of it, during that first time in Gene’s bedroom. Gene may have been disappointed by Fausto’s refusal to reciprocate, but he didn’t show it.

  “All right,” he’d said, matter-of-factly, after Fausto had refused to go down on him in return. “If you don’t want to suck mine, you can at least watch me jerk off. I’m so hot I can’t stand it. I’ve got to come.”

  He got off the bed, and stood beside it, his knees slightly bent, his fist gripping his protruding erection and stroking and caressing it as rapidly, as passionately, as his mouth had serviced Fausto’s cock a few moments before. Gene stared at Fausto, who was still slumped on the bed in a post-orgasmic daze, as he pumped away on himself.

  “Look at me,” Gene pleaded. “Watch me jerk it!”

  Fausto didn’t find it difficult to comply. He stared at the other guy's dick, fascinated by how brutally Gene was fisting himself. As he worked on himself with his right hand, Gene placed his left palm over his left pectoral mound and squeezed it, his fingertips indenting the muscle and flesh. Then he slid his hand down a bit, caught his left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and began to pinch it, rhythmically, in time with the piston action of his right fist around his cockshaft. His mouth dropped open and he began to pant for breath as, red-faced and sweating, he stared down at Fausto’s naked body on the bed.

  “I’m gonna come,” Gene whimpered. With a loud gasp, he threw his head back, pinched his tit even more roughly, and stopped moving his fist back and forth on his dick. Instead, he squeezed the shaft—and the first wad of his semen flew free from the tip of his tortured penis and rained down onto the mattress, a couple of hot drips landing on Fausto’s thigh with a stinging impact!

  “Shit!” Gene rasped, as he began sliding his hand back and forth on his prickshaft again, milking it. His cum soiled the back of his hand as it began to lose its initial velocity, slowing to a dribble.

  They’d taken turns using Gene’s shower, and Fausto vividly remembered looking down at himself and watching the spray rinse away the streaks of semen that Gene’s cock had deposed upon his thigh.

  Thinking about the whole episode encouraged him to masturbate much more energetically than usual, and, just as he started to come, Fausto let his already overheated imagination run riot. He tried his best to imagine how it would feel not only to shoot off inside the other guy’s hot, wet mouth, but what Gene’s own meaty prick would feel and taste like, if Fausto ever dared to try sucking it in return. His ejaculation left the head of his dick like so many liquid pellets spat from the muzzle of a machine gun, soaking his fingers his belly, the bed sheet—everything! Groaning, Fausto rolled over onto his side, still toying with his cock, and quickly fell asleep in a pool of his own jism, his fierce need soothed—at least for the time being.

  His curiosity about gay sex, however, was as intense as ever, and the next time he and Gene agreed to get together, he remained on the alert for the slightest signal that the humpy quarterback wanted to do more than just lift weights with him.

  They met at Gene’s place, and went through a long, hard, grueling workout, urging each other on, until their muscles positively throbbed from the pump they’d forced from them. It was a hot, still night, and despite the open windows, there was little air circulation this time. Both guys were panting like dogs from the heat and from their exertions as they gratefully stripped out of their sweat-sodden exercise clothes.

  Gene handed his training partner a fresh towel. “Do you want to shower first?” he asked casually. “I can wait.”

  “Uh—maybe not right away. Maybe we ought to cool down a little, first.”

  “There’s all sorts of ways to cool down. Which one did you have in mind?” Gene asked, mock-innocently, smiling at his friend.

  “Like we did the other night.” When Gene deliberately didn’t say anything, playing dumb, Fausto was finally forced to put it explicitly. “I thought—you know—I thought maybe you were horny again tonight. That you might want to—suck me,” he muttered, almost choking on the last words, and feeling his face flush red under its coating of slippery sweat.

  Gene laughed. “I thought you didn’t want me to do you again—you being such a straight macho number and all,” he teased.

  As he stared at the other guy, who was standing there in front of him stark naked, completely nonchalant, Fausto saw the trap Gene had laid for him, and he had to admit, grudgingly, that he’d certainly fallen into it! Up until now, he’d always acted as though he was reluctant to have Gene jerk him off, or blow him. If, on the other hand, he admitted that he’d enjoyed their homosexual activities and wanted to continue to experiment, then he couldn’t very well play so hard to get or hold himself back from reciprocation in the future. He had to commit himself—and, after a moment’s real hesitation, he did.

  “I’ve been so horny all week I can’t stand it, Gene,” he blurted out. “I’d like us to fool around again tonight, if you’re in the mood.”

  “I’m always in the mood, buddy. It’s what you want that matters. You sure?”

  Fausto nodded his head, slowly but emphatically. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” The other nude athlete grinned with a disarming boyishness. “I guess we can hold off on showering for a little while. “Hell, maybe we can even shower together—when we’re done.” He laughed. “Come on, let’s go into the bedroom.”

  They stretched out on the bed together, and Gene immediately began to play with Fausto’s prick, which was wildly excited and be
came very hard inside his fist. After a moment, Fausto reached over and began to squeeze and stroke Gene’s impressive equipment, just as passionately.

  “That’s better,” Gene whispered.

  “What is?”

  “I don’t particularly like a one-way street.”

  “Okay, okay! Let’s not talk about it,” Fausto pleaded. “Let’s just do it!”

  Without pulling his dick out of Fausto’s grasp, Gene twisted himself around until he could bend his head down and plant a quick, wet kiss on the very tip of Fausto’s prick. A drop of clear jism oozed up out from Fausto’s piss-slit, and Gene licked it up deftly. Then, moaning, he licked his way slowly down the underside of the thick, throbbing shaft and into Fausto’s tangled pubic hair. Fausto’s cock quivered in response, as Gene’s tongue curled around to its front side and tickled its way back up to the wide, round head, coaxing a second drop of jism out of the slit, which he tasted with the tip of his probing tongue.

  “Do you want me to suck it?” Gene whispered.

  Fausto swallowed hard as he kept his hand moving slowly but steadily up and down on Gene’s own big prick. “Yeah,” he gasped. “I want you to suck me, Gene! Go ahead, do it! Blow me—please!”

  He raised his head from the pillow and looked down the full length of his own rugged body to his groin as he felt Gene’s warm, soft lips surround the head of his prick, then suck the shaft deeply into his mouth. Fausto groaned with delight as the pressure of the other boy’s lips made his dick leap and twitch and jerk inside his mouth and the hot, wet surface of Gene’s tongue licked him from tip to base. His hand reached down to stroke Gene’s silken, sweat-soaked hair and press that mouth gently even lower on his cock.

  “Take it all in your mouth, man,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, that feels so fucking good, Gene, when you suck it like that! Keep it up! Suck it, man! It feels so fucking good!”

  As though Fausto’s words excited him beyond his ability to hold himself back, Gene’s mouth moved faster, drawing Fausto’s prick all the way in to its base, and then slipped back up until just the head remained between his slurping, suctioning lips. Each time he pushed his face down, his tongue stroked the shaft and made it swell harder, until the Latino’s cock was like a bar of solid, inflexible hard rubber trapped inside his mouth.

  Fausto closed his eyes and lay back on the bed, concentrating on the exciting feelings rippling through his hot cock. He had no idea of how long Gene went on sucking him—it could have been five minutes, or it could have been an hour. Fausto seemed to be drifting in a timeless void of pure sensual response, letting himself be swallowed up by the steady flow of pleasure that the other guy’s mouth was giving him in such abundance.

  Suddenly, he felt a sharp pull in his groin, and he knew that he was about to come. He tensed his legs, and for a moment he wondered if he should warn Gene or try to push his mouth off his ready-to-erupt dick. He began to lift his upper body from the mattress, to say something—but it was already too late!

  Gene, too, must have sensed his climax coming, because just as Fausto was about to pull his head away, he started sucking faster, moving his tongue more energetically, and—in the next instant—his mouth was taking Fausto’s cum as it shot from his cock in quick, heavy bursts of thick, creamy fluid.

  Fausto yelled out loud as he started to come. His thighs tightened around Gene’s head. His hands pushed Gene all the way down on his dick. His hips and buttocks rose from the bed, and he shot again and again, gasping and shuddering with each fresh volley of hot sperm that flew from his cock into the other guy’s mouth. When he’d stopped ejaculating at last, his body collapsed limply back onto the bed.

  Gene held the cock in his mouth for several minutes afterward, licking it gently, then eased his lips up and let the cockhead escape and fall back against Fausto’s belly with a faint, wet plopping sound. Licking his lips, Gene stared into Fausto’s eyes, winked at him, then got off the bed and wiped his lips off with the palm of his hand.

  “Jesus,” he laughed. “When you go off, you sure don’t hold anything back, do you? A guy could choke on that big load of yours, you know!”

  “Sorry,” Fausto panted, his cheeks reddening with his usual post-orgasmic embarrassment. “I–I didn’t mean to come in your mouth, if you didn’t want me to. I tried to stop you before I shot, but—!”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” Gene shrugged. “After all, I am the first guy you’ve fooled around with, aren’t I?”

  Fausto felt even more embarrassed by the fact that Gene knew he’d been a virgin. “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Then it’s safe. For me to take your cum in my mouth, I mean. It’s usually pretty safe anyway, but since you’re obviously negative…” Gene shrugged.

  Fausto was quiet for a moment, then avoided Gene’s gaze as he asked, “What does it taste like?”

  “What? Your cum? Sort of like a salty yogurt. Why? Do you want to try sucking mine? You can, you know. I mean, you can suck me, but you don’t have to swallow my cum,” Gene added, when Fausto didn’t say anything. “You can just try putting my dick in your mouth and sucking on it a little—who knows, it may turn you on.”

  “I don’t think so, Gene. I just don’t think I’m ready to get into anything that heavy yet.”

  Gene shrugged again, and moved closer to the bed. “That’s okay. Whenever you’re ready to give it a try, just let me know. In the meantime, I’d sure appreciate it if you’d do something else for me.”

  “What?” Fausto asked warily.

  “Jerk me off.”

  Fausto hesitated a second, then reached for his friend’s erect cock, taking it in both hands and beginning to massage it vigorously. “Sure,” he panted. After all, a hand job was the least he could do, after the truly fantastic blow job Gene had just treated him to!

  He played with Gene’s prick rather roughly for several minutes, and Gene seemed to get off on it. He stood next to the bed, letting Fausto work on him with both hands, moaning and bucking his hips, his knees slightly bent, his legs tensed, their muscles standing out in high, knotted relief. Finally, Gene raised both of his own hands to his chest. He closed his eyes and rubbed his pecs lightly, then grasped each of his big, brown tits between a thumb and a forefinger. As Fausto masturbated him and watched him, intrigued, Gene began to pinch his nipples and twist them in quick rotating motions, baring his teeth in a snarl of lust and letting out his breath in a hiss as he did so.

  “What the fuck are you doing, man?” Fausto demanded.

  “Playing with my tits. It turns me on. Keep jerking on my dick, Fausto. Oh, hell, that feels good—don’t you ever play with your tits when you jerk off?”

  “No,” Fausto admitted.

  “Well, what do you think we’ve got ’em for? We’ll have to try it the next time I suck you off. Some guys’ nipples are really sensitive. I know mine are!” Gene gasped as he gave each of his stiff tits an extra-hard wrench, and his prick spasmed hotly within Fausto’s grasp.

  “Are you going to come?” Fausto asked eagerly.

  “Not yet. I guess I’m tired after that workout. It’s taking me longer than usual, but I’m getting there. Hey! Why don’t I suck you some more, and work on your tits, while you jerk me?” Gene suggested lewdly.

  “Okay,” Fausto agreed at once, too turned on to even have to think about it first.

  Gene joined him on the bed, kneeling, with his face buried in Fausto’s crotch and his ass turned toward Fausto so that Fausto could reach up between his legs and resume his manipulation of his cock. As he began to suck on Fausto’s cock again from this new angle, Gene reached back with both hands, caressed Fausto’s chest, grasped the twin points of Fausto’s stiff nipples, and began to pinch and twist them, as he’d done with his own tits. Fausto let out a loud, raw gasp as an immediate response shot through his body, and his cock seemed to leap deeper down Gene’s throat! Every time Gene squeezed his nipples like that, the pressure seemed to send a hot jolt of response shooting through Fausto’s torso—and
through the core of his prick!

  They worked on each other like that for some time, until Fausto was as horny as he could recall ever having been in his life. He knew that he’d be able to climax again, easily, and he impulsively decided to experiment still further. After all, everything he and Gene had done together so far had felt good. Why should he hold back now?

  He stopped masturbating Gene, then lifted the guy’s head away from his cock with an insistent gesture. “Wait,” Fausto panted, flush-faced and out of breath.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you think you can come again?”

  “I’m going to come any minute, if you go on sucking me like that,” Fausto admitted. “But I don’t want to come yet. I–I want to try it, Gene. You know, cocksucking. I want to find out what yours tastes like!”

  “Okay,” Gene said, breathlessly. He broke away from the other guy at once, got off the bed, and stood up, moving quickly to the edge of the mattress just opposite Fausto. Gene’s dick was now pointing up from his heavy balls like a flagpole jutting over the edge of the bed, and when Fausto took it in his hand, it quivered with excitement.

  “Why don’t you get up on your hands and knees,” Gene suggested. “That way, you can jerk yourself off while you’re going down on me, to keep yourself turned on.”

  Silently accepting the advice, and wondering exactly how Gene had acquired so much practical experience in such matters, Fausto got on his hands and knees. He held Gene’s prick in his palm for a long moment, gauging its weight, staring intently at its round, dark-pink head with the wide slit in the center. It felt good in his fingers—warm and strong and pulsating with raw potency, purely and aggressively male.

  He wet his lips nervously with his tongue and leaned closer to the edge of the bed, so that the cockhead was only an inch from his mouth. He inhaled Gene’s musky crotch aroma, his sweat, his maleness—he touched his lips to the slimy tip of the other guy’s rigid penis in an exploratory kiss. His tongue tasted the drop of semen trapped in Gene’s gaping piss-slit, salty and pungent. Fausto groaned with lust as the flavor seared his tongue and made his mouth water.