Date: Mon, 7 Nov 2016 05:02:13 +0000
From: Bren _ <narraboth@hotmail.com>
Subject: cum-lottery-3

Part 3: The Entry

Like I said, I was totally satisfied with myself after reading that note. I
had lost my regular cocksucker, and here was my next one, probably an
improvement over the last. I have to cum a lot. That's just who I am and,
and that's how my Stud body is built. That's just how things work.

I kept thinking about the guy sniffing my jockstrap.

You can understand I really hate to jack off, but I will, when I don't have
a sucker. So now I would be able to go back to using a real sucker. A guy
like me really needs release at least daily, and probably more than once a
day. Getting edged for a long time, then shooting a big load keeps my dick
in great shape and looking good. After a good service session, it stays
big, fat, and relaxed for the rest of the day and then some.

Just how big is it? I'm not sharing measurements. You sucker readers can
picture it. Let's just say bigger than average. I like to feel it swelling
out and pushing against the inside of my pants legs when I move around.

So I called the guy up. He answered right away, and I could tell the sound
of my voice made him hungrier than ever for my cock. I told him just what I
want, and of course he agreed to everything. I questioned him particularly
about stealing my jock, and he gave me what I guess we're satisfactory
answers.

He told me his address, and I let him know what time I would be there the
next day.

I had skipped a day of shooting and was overdue for unloading. Fuck, I
needed to cum bad! But I held off from touching it and finally got to
sleep.

Next day: I put on my same t-shirt, frayed jeans, and flip flops, and drove
my beat-up Rio to the guy's address.

I was surprised just what an upscale neighborhood it was. Any neighbors
seeing me flop up the front walk would have thought for sure that I was
some kind of laborer, there for yard work or whatever.

Never mind that, because my cock was already getting hard and squeezing out
through those holes in my jeans leg. I went on up to the massive front
door. I ignored the doorbell and just banged the door hard and loud with my
fist.

My new "friend" was right there waiting, and he opened the door
instantly. I didn't wait for any more invitation but just stepped inside
that big marble entry hall. I heard him throw the bolt behind me. Like I
had been captured and locked up! The thought made me smile.

Like that could happen.

"Welcome, Sir," he said, stepping around near me. "Thank you so much for
being here. Once again, I'm deeply sorry for stealing your property. I've
washed and dried your jockstrap and have it ready to return to you."

While he was talking, he was edging closer into my personal space. I felt
like he was smelling me just like he had smelled my jock. I held my ground.

"It's not a problem. I'm here, huh?" I answered. "So what?"

During the short silence that followed my demand, I looked past the entry
hall into the sumptuous living room. The room was full of the most
expensive carpets, furniture, a grand piano, and some quality paintings and
sculpture. I looked back at friend. He was still smelling me and looking my
body up and down. Finally he answered.

"Sir, you are a magnificent specimen. It's so overwhelming to have you
right here within reach," he said. "Please, Sir, may I touch your
shoulders?"

"Yeah for sure, that's why I'm here," I scoffed at him.

He walked behind me and reached up to rest both his hands on my
shoulders. He just felt of them for a few seconds, then kneaded them
hard. Harder than I expected, but it did feel good. He moved on down to
feel my arms and my big muscular hands. He reached around from behind and
felt of my pecs, stopping to give a slight squeeze to each nipple, already
hard. My dick was getting damn uncomfortable in those tight threadbare
jeans.

"Sir, may I remove your shirt?" he asked now.

I was getting a little bored with all his talk.

"Yeah, you know, you don't have to ask for every little thing. Just go for
it," I ordered.

"Yes, Sir, I apologize Sir, as I get to know you better," he said
respectfully.

I raised my arms up, and he quickly grabbed my shirttail and in one motion
pulled the shirt over my head. While he folded it as if it was fine linen,
he stepped around and got a good look at my naked back and chest. I stood
up straight and allowed him to drink in the sight of me.

He placed the perfectly-folded rag onto what looked like a Louis IV chair
sitting against the wall. Then he came back to me and very lightly embraced
my trim waist with both hands, feeling it up and down while he leaned down
to sniff, then lick each of my nipples a single time. Maddeningly slowly,
he reached down and unbuttoned the fly on my jeans, one button at a
time. In between each button he went back to feeling up my back, my butt
through the jeans, and lifted each arm to sniff my pits.

He finally had all the fly buttons undone, and my hard cock was fighting to
get free, its fat side peeking out of the opening. He looked down at it
then looked up at my face.

"Mmmm," was all he said, looking back at that hard dick. He kneeled and
kept up that relentless sniffing, bringing his nose just millimeters from
the naked, exposed side of my dick. I could feel the breeze from his sharp
intake of air.

All of a sudden the dick was totally erect and popped right out of my open
fly. Friend dodged backwards to avoid touching it. Yet.

Instead, he leaned back and just looked at it, admiring, and again looked
me in the eye.

"Sir," he said, "Sweet Sir, it's so hard. It's so perfect."

He reached up with both hands and again felt my slim waist, bringing his
mouth very close to my now totally swollen dickhead. But now instead of
smelling it, he was exhaling sharply, bathing my erection in warm, moist
heat from deep in his throat..

He lowered his hands from my waist and with them the jeans. He gently
prompted me to lift each leg. He carefully removed each of my flip-flops
and set them aside, then pulled the jeans legs completely free. As he
lowered each of my feet, he bent to the floor and kissed my feet abjectly.

He stood up, folded my ratty jeans, and placed them carefully on the chair
with my other clothes, with the flip-flops below them.

So there I was, totally naked, my bare feet on that cold marble, my hard
dick pointing straight up to the fine lantern hanging from Friend's
entry-hall.

He came back and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Sir, please, may I take you out to the pool deck?"



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