Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2013 12:01:12 -0500
From: Mads van Duessen <madsvand@gmail.com>
Subject: Community Service Part 1

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Community Service Part 1 by Mads van Duessen

Email back and forth, more than I was usually willing to suffer to get some
cock, went back and forth until he finally got up the nerve to come to my
place.

From Jay Dog Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org> to me
Subject Blow-n-go

Pretty straight married man looking to come over, lay back and get head.
Wife doesn't do it. Clean and hung here. 6'3" 195 40yo.  Pics attached.
This would be my first time being naked with a dude.
Sent from my iPhone 5

HUNG, definitely, and big bull balls, low-hanging.  Built, too – awesome
six-pack, great v-shape, light dusting of fur.  I didn't bother to correct
the obvious imprecision – this guy was obviously regularly naked with
men in a locker room somewhere!  LOL I knew what he meant – he was
saying he's a first-timer, but I was skeptical, skeptical but not bothered
by the likely fib.

From me to Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org>
Subject RE: Blow-n-go

That's exactly what I am offering – you come, YOU CUM, you go –
that's it, no reciprocation, nothing but you enjoying my mouth on your cock
and balls and your load blasting down my throat.

OK, so I WANTED his cock – what looked like probably 9" of it –
balls-deep in my ass.  But if all he wanted or all he'd be comfortable
with, then that's what he'd get.

Nineteen long minutes later.

From Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org> to me
Subject RE: RE: Blow-n-go

OK that's what I want, you to take my clothes off, lay down and see if you
can make me shoot.  When can I come?
Sent from my iPhone 5

Hmmm . . . the "take my clothes off" thing – not my usual thing, but
. . . hey, for that bod and cock . . .

From me to Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org>
Subject RE: RE: Blow-n-go

Sooner the better, dude.  Sooner you get here, sooner my mouth will be
wrapped around that beautiful fuckrod of yours and you'll feel your nuts
boiling and getting ready to blast your seed down my hungry throat!

8 minutes later.

From Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org> to me
Subject RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go

I am working late.  If you can do now I will leave work now and go there
and tell my wife when I get home that I worked until just then.  You are
clean and neg, right?  I can't risk taking anything home to my wife.
Sent from my iPhone 5

OK, maybe he really IS a first-timer.  I'm assuming by "clean" he means DDF
(drug and disease-free), which would make "neg" (HIV-negative) redundant.

From me to Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org>
Subject RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go

Dude, like my profile said, I'm clean, drug and disease-free and of course
that includes HIV-negative.  You up for this, because I can't wait to drain
those impressive nuts.  Tell me you're up for it and I'll email you my
address, or I'll text it to you, whichever you want.

26 LONG minutes later.
From Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org> to me
Subject RE: RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go
I'm ready to leave.  Can I call you?
Sent from my iPhone 5

I fucking HATE it when guys get all "I need to talk to you (and ask 10,000
questions and talk and not ever get their cocks to where I can enjoy them!)
and stuff".  But that cock . . . and that bod . . . and IF he's the real
deal and needs my "help" . . .

From me to Jay Dog <e276cc8f725833338267cff0ccd96a2d@reply.craigslist.org>
Subject RE: RE: RE: RE: Blow-n-go

Sure bud, but let's do this.  If you want to get off, I promise you you'll
be glad you did.  [And I added my cell phone number.]

2 minutes later, my cell phone rang.  The number wasn't even blocked.  My
racing thoughts debated – does that mean he IS the real deal, a
first-timer if he isn't even skilled enough to block his cell phone number
. . . OR . . . is this the sign of a player, and the whole thing is just a
game he plays?  WHO THE FUCK CARES?  That cock and those balls and that bod
. . .

"Yo," I said.

"Hey," he said.

Nice deep voice, maybe even deeper than mine, which is pretty deep, and
very masculine-normal inflection.  "So you want to take down my address?" I
asked, cutting to the chase.

"Well, now that I've heard your voice and know you're real, go ahead and
text it to me, OK?"

I laughed – I couldn't help it.  I put my phone on speaker.  "Dude,
that's supposed to be my line!"  I laughed again, while I punched in my
address into my phone and hit SEND.  I heard the swoosh sound on my phone
when it sent the text message, and within a quick moment, I heard his phone
chime.  "That might be me . . . or the other cocksucker you're negotiating
with," I said, with a chuckle.

"Uh, there's nobody else," he said, uneasily.  "You're my one chance," he
added, a little . . . bashfully.

I laughed again – I couldn't help it.  "Well," I said, after I composed
myself, "You made a good choice, dude, because you're going to fucking LOVE
the way I drain your nuts."  Cocky?  Absofuckinglutely!  And with good
reason.

There was a long pause, which I'd decided I needed to wait out.

"I've never done this," he said, about when I thought I'd lost him.

"Well," I said, "The sooner you get here, the sooner you will have."

"Um, what?" he said, nervously.

"What what?"

"I didn't understand what you meant when you said that.  It could be your
accent."

Or it could be that you're either just plain nervous or you really are
negotiating with another cocksucker, I thought to myself.  "Forget my humor
– it's not nearly as good as my mouth!" I said, and in case he really
was nervous I quickly went on.  "Look, bud, if you don't want to do this
–"

"NO," he almost roared, cutting me off.  And then he seemed to lose the
force of his momentary will.

I waited.

"I mean," he said, in a suddenly soft voice, "I want to come to you."

"Well, great!" I said, enthusiastically.  "I'm glad."

"OK," he said, a little more regular tone.  And when I was prepared for
another pause, he surprised me by quickly adding, "I've got your address
here, and you're only a few blocks from my office.  If it's OK, I'll be
there in about ten minutes," he said, more as a question.

"When you get to the door, push sixty-nine, and it'll ring me and I can
send the code to open the door."

"Sixty-nine?" he asked, with the first hint of a chuckle.

"I know, right?  I had nothing to do with that; that's the building's code
that was programmed to my unit when I moved in and the system was
reprogrammed.  Though," I added with a chuckle, "The building engineer
already had a good idea that it would be an appropriate code for me!"

"Um," he said, and he stopped again.

"Hey I've got an idea," I said.

"What's your idea?" he said, sounding appreciative for a segue.

"Well, first of all, why don't YOU get going on your way here.  That way
your cock will be in my mouth soon, maybe even the ten minutes from a
moment ago, or at least not too much longer.  Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," he said, surprisingly without hesitation.

"And," I jumped in and continued, "I'm Mads.  You don't have to tell me
your name if you don't want, but now you know mine.  Mads van Duessen.  So
now you have my address, you have my name, and I'll add so you know, in
case you weren't aware, I really can't wait for you to get here so I can
suck your cock like nobody's ever sucked your cock before!"

To that, he finally laughed, a real laugh.  "Well, then, I'd better get
my," and then he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Cock," he hissed, "Over
there!"

"Great idea, dude."

"Jay," he said.

"Get your cock over here, Jay!"

"Great idea, Mads," he said decisively.

About nine minutes later, my phone rang, and the callerID said it was my
downstairs door.  I answered, "Go to the sixth floor in the elevator," I
said, hitting star-six to unlock the building door.

When the elevator opened, I was waiting with my door open, and as he came
out he looked relieved to see me and hurried to my door and inside.  I gave
him a long look up and down and couldn't stop myself from grinning.  Tall,
within an inch or so of my six-five.  Built, OMG he was built!  And
handsome, like an action movie star, which I hadn't seen before because his
pics were headless.  Well, not headless, exactly – after all his
cockhead had been prominently displayed.  I couldn't wait to see if that,
like everything else, would exceed my expectation!

"What?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"You're HOT, that's what, Jay," I said, and I moved closer and ran my hands
over his pecs and down to his narrow waist.  I felt hard-as-stone muscle
and sinew and cold feel his fur through the fabric.  I brought my face up
and looked into his eyes . . . and let my hand move down from his waist
where I'd stopped, over his slacks and to a wonderfully HUGE HARD cock.
When I gripped it, he gasped, and his eyes closed with a flutter.  I used
my other hand and got his bigger-than-I-expected balls in my grip,
eliciting a low groan and a forceful throb of that monster cock.  "Like
that?" I asked, leaning in closer, my voice a hoarse whisper.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," was all he said, but his cock continued to throb in my
hand, and the heat from his balls increased.

"Come on, stud.  You're about to have a GREAT time," I said, pulling him by
his cock and starting away from the entry and toward the hall to my
bedroom.  He followed awkwardly, his big feet kicking my heels as I
maintained my grip on that horsecock.

We got to my bedroom, and I let go of his cock reluctantly, and moved my
hands back up his torso and swept his jacket back off his shoulders and
draped it over the back of a chair.  I wasted no time getting his belt
unbuckled, his pants unfastened and unzipped, his shoes off, his shirt
unbuttoned and off, and I forced myself not to dawdle on his magnificent
torso but finished by getting his pants and boxer shorts off, which had a
sizeable wet spot way over to the side and up by the waist where his
enormous cockhead had been.

I made sure one of my hands was on his body at all times, right now my left
hand was running over the beautiful outline of his well-developed shoulder
cap and down his slab pec, letting the light fur delight my fingertips and
palm as I moved down toward and over his nipple.  His body tensed suddenly,
almost a shudder, when the edge of my palm met that stiffening nipple.
"Are you OK, Jay?" I asked, while gently caressing that now harder nipple
between my thumb and forefinger.

"OH FUCK YES, man, don't stop," he answered, and to that encouragement I
gave the nipple a sharper tweak with my fingers and felt his body spasm and
saw his fuckrod jerk in a wild upward then down again motion and a glob of
precum was there, dripping – no, flowing – from the tip.  "Oh, Jesus,
yes," he moaned.

I had his boxer briefs in my other hand, and I brought them to my face and
buried it in the crotch, rubbing them around so that the thick gooey wet
spot was over my lips.  I inhaled deeply, and I tweaked that nipple again,
even harder than before, but still well in the straight man range of nip
intensity, and his whole body jerked, including his cock again, wildly
jumping up then flopping down again, another glob of precum thrown off in
the down movement, and another loud "AAAAAAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhh!" from him.

For my part I was painfully aroused – as in my own not-insignificant
cock was straining in impossible constraints inside my jeans.  This
straight first-timer could be skittish about me whipping it out – I had
no idea . . . yet.  I moved into him a step so that my jeans were just
barely touching his bobbing manmeat.  "Tell me, Jay," I said, in a husky,
low voice, my face still buried in his boxer briefs.

His eyes, I realized, had been closed, his head thrown back some.  He
opened them and looked at me, and his eyes widened as he saw my indulgence
in his underwear.  "Fuuuuuuuuck," he said, quickly followed by, "Er, what?
T-tell you w-what?" he stuttered, as I worked his nipple gently but
noticeably, and he fought to keep his eyes on me and his head not thrown
back.

"Tell me what I can and can't do, Jay.  Tell me what you want," I said,
with a dramatic deep inhalation of his scent from those boxers and a suck
of that glob of precum, all the while never letting my eyes leave his.

He struggled with it – on all levels, it was obvious.  I could play his
body like a musical instrument from that one nipple, that was apparent.  He
was also enthralled by my involvement with his sweaty, precummy underwear.
But he was also afraid, nervous, uncertain and probably unprepared to
direct what would follow, thus my question was agony to him.  "Uh, Mads,
uh, I, uh, I'm not sure what, er, how much I, er, you . . . "

I leaned down and moved the boxer briefs away from my face and took my
tongue and made a long swipe over his other nipple, making sure that as I
leaned in my jeans jammed into his dripping, throbbing fuckmeat.  His
entire body spasmed, as he let out a long, almost plaintive moan of sheer
pleasure.  I reached down at took his cock in my hand again, delighting to
myself at the heft of that monster, the feeling of his blood pulsing in it
going straight to my own painfully confined cock, and I tongued over that
nipple again, this time tweaking the other one harder than ever before.
"FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKK man FUUUUUUUCKkkkkkk YEAHHHHHHHH," he cried out.

I brought my face up to face him, my lips a fraction of a millimeter from
his.  Softly I said, "I can see that's allowed."

"Mads, I . . . " he started but then faltered, and I could see he was
falling, falling into a frightened place.

I pushed my head forward until our foreheads touched, his hot and sweaty.
"Jay," I coooed and wrapped my arm around him, using my nipple-hand, which
elicited a tiny yelp when I removed it.  But I pulled him close into me,
his hard cock jammed against my jeans and my own hard cock inside it, our
heaving, sweat-sheened torsos together, our heads together and our lips so
close I'm sure he couldn't have told you that they weren't touching.  "Jay,
I got you," I continued softly, my voice low and husky.  "Nothing will
happen that you don't want to happen.  You're in control here," I reassured
him.

We stood that way for what seemed like an eternity but was seconds in fact,
and I was determined that he had to take the next step, he had to find his
comfort zone amid the watershed of pleasure he'd sampled and his fear of
those very pleasures he was experiencing.  I had both arms wrapped around
him, holding him, and only our breathing sounded.  He felt GOOD.

Finally, he unexpectedly brushed his lips against mine and said, "I, I want
you t-to do anyth-thing, everything t-to me, just no p—" He stopped
abruptly, but I waited, rubbing my hands on his back, holding him tight
until he finally finished.  "I don't want any p-p-penetration – SHIT,
there I said it!"

I chuckled, and he momentarily tensed at my amusement with his anguish, but
I held him tight, reinforcing my hold, and he relaxed again.  "May I get
undressed with you?"

This time he chuckled, albeit nervously.  "I would feel more on even ground
if you did, Mads," he said, with a sigh at the end, like that had been
weighing on him.

"One last question, Jay," I said, and he exhaled what I think was a sign to
go ahead.  "Will you promise me you'll verbalize anything you're not
completely loving, anything that's scaring you, worrying you will go too
far, anything like that?" I asked into his lips.

"Dude, I'm so far out on the limb here, you have no idea," he said, and I
could feel it.

"Jay. I. Got. You." I said slowly.  "This is yours, whatever you want,
whatever you don't, however you like – no strike that – however you
LOVE it, you have just to let me know.  As much or as little.  I could, in
fact, get on my knees, take that huge, beautiful fuckmeat of yours," to
which his cock twitched and his body trembled, at the mere use of the
word," in my mouth, blow you, drain your nuts, and there you'd have it –
a faggot sucked your cock and you could go on with no harm, no foul."

He surprised me then and pushed his lips into mine.  It wasn't a passionate
kiss, and there was no tongue; it was just a press, a very light, though
very tender, buss of my lips with his, and then he withdrew to that
paper-thin distance between our lips again.  "Mads, I want this, so let's
do it, OK?"

Shit – who was I to argue.  I disengaged from him, slowly, so as not to
startle him, and I unbuttoned my jeans and, with care to reposition my
contorted hardon so I didn't do major damage, pulled my jeans down.  He
looked at me with surprise.  "You're as big as I am!" he exclaimed.  I was
stopped dead in my tracks.  Was that good or bad?  Was he intimidated?  And
again he surprised me by picking up on my concern.  "That's awesome we're
just alike as men," he said, reassuring me with a smile.

OK . . . duh, van Duessen, took you long enough to GET it.  Jay wanted
PARITY.  It was his way of making this something real for him to experience
and not just "service" for his cock by a cocksucker.  It was as if he'd
thrown the thought into my head, and I was absolutely certain I now got it.
For him, control wasn't what would give him security; no, it was parity
with another man, equal footing, not him responsible for directing what
would happen despite his inexperience and not another man taking or forcing
him.  A stray thought – was this what straight men who weren't caught in
their I'm-not-gay hangup were all like?  OK, back to the stud at hand.

I had my jeans off and faced him naked.  I stretched elaborately and gave
him a view of my lean-muscular torso and muscled arms and shoulders
rippling and rolling.  "I feel better," I said with a smirk, and I batted
my rock-hard cock once playfully.  "Now, where were we?"  He looked
startled at that, but I pressed ahead, literally and figuratively.  I moved
to him and gently pushed him back until his legs were at my bed and said,
"Climb onto my bed, big boy.  You're about to get a pleasure overload!" I
said, grinning.  "This is my `community service' to the straight men who
are pleasure-disadvantaged!" I snarked, and I climbed onto the bed with
him.

TO BE CONTINUED

If you like this or any of my stories, I enjoy feedback: madsvand@gmail.com
.

As a preview . . .

Jay and I spent two more hours that evening, and he finally had to
rehydrate from the fluids I relieved him of, both sweat and cumloads, doing
things to and with him he'd opened himself to but really hadn't known more
than the rudiments.  He wanted to talk when he was showered and dressed
again – I could tell – but he had to go home, probably already well
outside of any comfort zone, the need for explanations looming.  So I
walked with him . . . slowly . . . and we talked . . . until I needed to
back off in case he was uncomfortable with me on his doorstep, in his
space.  To my surprise, though . . .