From clarkson!rpi!usc!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!sunic!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Fri Feb 11 14:55:57 1994
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.motss,alt.sex.stories
From: an59279@anon.penet.fi (Legend )
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Organization: Anonymous contact service
Reply-To: an59279@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun,  6 Feb 1994 21:24:47 UTC
Subject: the Coke Head (mm)
Lines: 295


Another in a series.


This story is m/m. If that's not your thing, don't read it.

Again, folks, I want feedback. If you like this story, don't like it,
whatever, tell me. I'll write down more of these experiences--believe
me, I got plenty--but only if I hear that you want them.

And yes, this is a true story. It happened last May or thereabouts, I
think. Enjoy.





















The Coke head.



In my fraternity there are a million guys named Mike, just like you'd
expect. There's also a lot of Coreys, Chads, Brads, and Shanes. Mostly
they are rich, hot, cocky little bastards--just my style.

One Mike was a notorious partier. He was always at the bar, and pretty
much everyone on campus knew him. He never could control his partying.
He got into cocaine when he was a sophomore, and by the time he was
a junior he was *always* wired.

Mike was I'd say 6'2", about 225, with almost no belly in spite of all
the beer this guy could put away. I always figured the coke kept the
fat off. Plus he played basketball a lot. He had a young-looking
face and light brown hair that he kept pretty short. He wasn't the
hottest, but he was still a great-looking guy. I didn't like him, because
he messed around with drugs WAY too much, and I don't get into that shit.
He paid for his habit by dealing, which we all knew but couldn't prove.
It was sickening watching him throw around that coke money. I was waiting
for him to wind up in jail or at the morgue.

One Saturday morning at about 6 a.m. I awoke to a phone call from Mike.
The instant he identified himself I knew what he wanted. Most everyone
in the house knew I messed around with guys, so I got used to getting
late night phone calls from whispering boys wanting to know if they could
"cruise by for a while." The guys talked about me behind my back of course,
but I laughed it off in the knowledge that half of them secretly wanted to
blow me, or already had.

Of course, Mike asked if he could come over. Now, normally I despise being
woken up by the telephone, and any morning caller would get an earful of
profanity. Sex, however, is the one thing that makes me want to rise and
shine.

"Sure," I said.

He got there inside of five minutes. I had put on a pair of umbro shorts
over my CK briefs, hell with the t-shirt. He was carrying some cheesy
porno magazine he had picked up at a truck stop. He was so wired he could
hardly stand. I shut the door behind him and sat down on the couch.

He began pacing the room impatiently, blabbering about nothing, which is
not unusual for coke heads. He would dart over to the couch and sit down
next to me, then leaf almost frantically through the mag, showing me this
or that picture. Then he would jump up and begin pacing the room again. I
could almost hear his heart racing inside his chest. He kept sniffling.

I waited contently, knowing that sooner or later he would get around to
what he had come for.

He stood by the window and asked if my neighbors were nosey. "No," I said,
which happened to be true even though I would have said it regardless. He
shut the curtains and turned toward me.

"Mind if I try something?"

"No."

He dropped to his knees in front of me, then leaned forward and hooked his
fingers inside the waistband of my shorts and underwear. "Is this OK?" he
asked. I nodded my assent.

Mike lifted the elastic over my cock, which had been full at attention since
he got there. Then he pulled my shorts and briefs all the way down to my
ankles. In a flash he was sucking my cock.

I breathed a sigh of pleasure as he took the whole thing in his mouth. I
had to smile as I ran my fingers through his rough hair--this wasn't how
I expected my morning to begin! I looked down at him feasting on my prick.
What a fag. All this time he had been flaunting his women, and here he's
sucking like there's no tomorrow. I smiled maliciously and started humping
his mouth while holding his head from the back. Let him choke, I thought.
I hate drug dealers.

No such result. He slurped like a parched man at a drinking fountain. After
a minute or so he stopped and looked up at me. "I don't want to do anything
other than this, OK?"

Oh, so you don't want to take it in the ass, huh? You just want to drink a
mouthful of cum. Whatever. What a homo.

"Okay."

He resumed sucking, this time he began squeezing my thighs, then my abs
and chest. His hands roved over almost every part of my body. He tried
to grab my ass, and I lifted my hips off the couch to accommodate him.
This was turning out to be one hell of a morning.

Just as I was getting close, he stopped again and looked at me. "You know
I don't understand what it is. I'm not gay, I just look at pictures of
naked girls and...and I wanna suck dick." I swear to God that's what he
said, I'm not making it up.

I just looked at him.

You fuckin fag, I thought. That pussy attitude belittles us both. You're
here to suck cock, so shut the fuck up and suck it. Here, like this.

I grabbed his head again and pushed it down on top of my dick. He didn't
care. The big fucking crybaby knew what his job was, and he was doing it.
He didn't try to throw any more bullshit after that.

He slobbed my knob for about two more minutes. He did it spectacularly
well, his enthusiasm making up for his lack of style. He brought me
close again, but this time I stopped him. I didn't want to just shoot
a cheapie and be done with it, I was going to exploit the opportunity.
He was going to have a powerful, unforgettable homosexual experience.
Half of me still believed that he was just so coked up he didn't know
what the hell he was doing, he was just doing it. That probably wasn't
the case, I know, but I wanted him to have the memory of a full-fledged
gay experience to haunt him through his years. And when he thought of
it, he would have to think of my sneering smile. I wanted him to hate
me, and hate himself for swallowing a big blast of my sperm. Yeah, I
got plans for you, Mikey boy.

I leaned forward, grasped his shirt at the bottom, and pulled it up over
his head. He lifted up his arms so I could pull it all the way off. Before
he could react I put my hands on his chest and pushed him down on the
floor. I laid down on top of him and pinned his hands down on the carpet,
and drinking in the look of surprise and a little alarm on his face, I
mashed my mouth into his and kissed him deeply. My tongue was almost all
the way in his mouth. He wasn't ready for it and squirmed a little, but
I kept at it ferociously. I think what threw him off the most was the
stubble on my face. I moved my head whenever he tried to move his, so he
knew there was really no choice other than to accept the intrusion of
my tongue.

I began grinding my hips into his, dry humping him. His cock was rigid
as a baseball bat under his shorts; I could feel it pulsing on my stomach.
He was really enjoying this, so much that he began furiously kissing me
back.

Personally, I think dry-humping gets kind of boring after, say, 30 seconds.
I stopped and began moving my mouth down his body, a journey my mouth
just loves to take. First the neck--mmmmmm, I love the warm soft neck of
a 20 year old boy. I kissed his neck, then began kissing down his chest,
stopping to suck a nipple, then I moved down to his stomach. He wasn't
firm in the tummy the way I like, but he had an awesome "treasure trail."
His stomach fluttered under my kisses and he hitched his breath as I got
closer to his pole. I pretended it wasn't the cocaine.

At last I arrived at his prick. It was bigger than mine, about 7.5" long
and thick enough to be arrogant about, but certainly not unmanageable. I
touched the top front of it with my tongue and it leaped at me and hit me
in the chin. Heh, this was going to be easy. This boy was mine.

I engulfed the head in my mouth, and his body shuddered. I did it again,
same reaction. I took him in about three quarters, and he writhed in
pleasure and moaned. Yeah, that's right homo, you love to have gay sex with
me. I gently bobbed up and down a few times, slowly enough to tease him
because I loved the reactions I got. Then I hunched my neck and took him
all the way in, and my throat muscles with practiced ease clutched the
head of his staff. He gasped and his whole body tensed. Bingo.

I pulled off him and began stroking him with both hands. "You like
that?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Aww, yeah," he crooned. Man, I loved to see this guy like this. Mister
Asshole Coke Head. Well, you belong to me now, fucker.

"You LIKE thaaaat," I said forcefully. Again, this was a catchphrase in our
house, started by the cockiest motherfucker of them all. He reacted to it
submissively.

"Aw, yeah. Oh yeah. Oh God yeah." Ha ha, what a fag. Wish I had a video
camera. I leaned back down and took him in my mouth again. After a little
more of my professional tongue, he said quickly, "Oh God, I'm gonna cum...!"
He was really asking me if he could cum in my mouth. Not just yet, compadre.

I lifted off him to about half way, and my lips still around his cock, I
swung my body around into a 69 position. I knew the split second he came
he would be out of there, so no way was that going to happen till I had
blown him a gob of saline flavored formula. This boy was going home with
the taste of cum in his mouth.

His mouth was around my cock the second it was in reaching distance. He
started in again, more energetically due to the attention his own rod
was getting.

This was what I had been waiting for. I positioned my legs close together
so that my upper thighs pressed against his forehead and immobilized him. I
grabbed his balls gently but firmly, and began thrusting deep into his
mouth. He had no idea how to throat me, but I didn't care. I enjoyed
listening to him try to breathe between my penetrations into his throat.
Oh, but he was digging it. "Mmmf, mmf, mmf," he said as I mouthed his
dick and dicked his mouth.

Then the moment was upon me when I was getting about to shoot. Simultaneous
orgasms are a real pleasure of mine and I am quite good at orchestrating
them. When I was about two humps away, I squeezed his balls a little tighter,
pressed one finger down below his ball sack, and one finger on the tight
opening of his ass. At the same time, I plunged all the way down on his
prick again, and my throat engulfed his cockhead like it had before. His
body tensed up. Three, two, one...

"MMMMFFFFF!!!" He grunted, and pulsed his come into my throat about half
a second before I followed suit. I pulled off his cock about halfway and
milked his jizz out as quickly as possible, which in his excited state
didn't take too long. I, on the other hand, stretched my orgasm out for
a few seconds longer, and deposited a good sized load of salt-flavored
protein in his mouth. Damn, those vitamin E pills really do work.

He didn't like it. He had already finished and wanted me out of his mouth.
I'm sure he didn't like the taste of my spoo, and wanted to spit it out.

Wrong-o, pal. I clamped my thighs harder on his head; he tried to move
but couldn't. His only options were to swallow my load or bite my dick
off, which is why I kept a pretty tight hold on his balls. His path
was clear, it was just a matter of time. I'll wait here all day,
fucker, I thought. He squirmed at first, then waited to see if I would
pull off. Sure, Mike, soon as you take a gulp or two.

Finally he swallowed, trying not to choke. When he gagged, his throat
did a little dance on my cockhead that netted him one more gush. I sqeezed
my fuck muscle to make sure he got every drop, and as he swallowed, his
throat involuntarily sucked out the last of it. I let go of his balls.
What a morning.

He was up as soon as I allowed him to move, and had his shorts, t-shirt,
and shoes back on in about twelve seconds. I sat down on the couch and
watched casually, admiring the sweat across his pecs and the cum on his
chin and lips. I put my hands behind my head and spread my legs in a
classic relaxed-guy position, to make him more aware of my nakedness. I
wanted him to remember this moment for the rest of his life.

"I'm outta here, dude," he said, glancing at me and looking away quickly.
His face was bright red.

"See ya around, Mike," I said casually, with a devilish grin. He left, and
I got up and locked the door behind him.

As his car drove off, I burst out laughing. Fucker had to drive home with
my come in his mouth and, more importantly, in his stomach. I wondered if
he was going to wipe that cum off the corner of his mouth that he had missed
when he took a hasty swipe at his face with his sleeve. I hoped someone
would see it and ask him about it.

Still laughing, I went to the bathroom to rinse out my mouth.

















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