Taunting Jim 6

It was said that hookers, who stand to make more money the more tricks they can turn in a night, often stimulate a john into premature ejaculation by inserting a finger up the rectum and pressing down on the prostate gland. So he wet his index finger and eased it into Brad's crack. He pressed gently until he found the tender sphincter, signaled by Brad's moans of approval. He then began to slowly apply pressure until he felt the virgin orifice relax enough to allow his finger to enter to the first joint. He began to quicken his oral assault as Brad responded with more rapid hip action and moaning. Jim continued to push his finger deeper up the poop chute till it was buried to the hand. Brad was crying out in delirious pleasure.

Jim intended to try to press the prostate at that point, but couldn't resist easing his finger in and out a few times first. Brad felt more out of control than he ever had in his entire life. He could barely breathe as he lay there trembling on the floor while this skinny kid from the sticks manipulated him like a puppet. The semen at the base of his raging rod burned like fire while he was being finger fucked up the ass, and was enjoying it immensely.

After several minutes of this Jim suddenly pressed sharply upward, with his finger fully inserted. Brad screamed loudly as the fresh batch of fuck juice erupted violently from the lurching love hammer. The hot goo shot far down Jim's throat as the firm flesh was fully inserted. The wide spongy head expanded greatly as the spurts of sperm ejected, causing a painful clogging of Jim's throat. He decided to withdraw till the puffy plum filled his mouth, allowing him to better taste the salty syrup as he licked and sucked and swallowed it all.

Brad's mind was as coherent as a drunk man's and he faded off to sleep with Jim's head resting on the inside of his thigh and a finger jammed up his ass. After a while Jim eased his stinky finger out and quietly moved to the bathroom to complete his ceremonial masturbation session.

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Over the next week Brad offered his tremendous tool to his buddy at least twice a day, and enjoyed sexual gratification that he could only dream about with Michelle. By the following Saturday he had become disinterested in even trying to go through the motions with her. So he told her he was a little tired and left without even kissing her goodnight. By the time he reached his car his dick was already hard in anticipation of Jim's tongue, and he raced across town as it throbbed in his lap. He didn't see her at all the following week, and by then knew that he didn't really love her. He broke up with her over the phone, allowing her to believe he was seeing another girl.

The same week Cathy broke up with Jim over the phone, explaining that she had met someone else, and that she credited Jim with showing her how great sex could be... so great in fact that she couldn't wait for the infrequent opportunities she and Jim would have being so far apart. Brad's sympathy and support for Jim prompted him to say, "Fuck the bitch!" every time he caught Jim moping.

After their respective breakups, Brad's relationship with Jim began to change. Before they had had little involvement in each other's lives, other than the frequent blowjobs on the floor of their dorm or in Brad's bed. They never talked about the sex they had, and rarely talked about anything else of consequence. But now Brad had more free time without having to accompany Michelle everywhere, so he included Jim in his activities more.

Jim accompanied Brad to pick up basketball games at the outdoor court next to the dorm, but only as a spectator. They went to required plays and concerts together, and Jim became accepted into Brad's circle of friends. These were all guys who would have shunned Jim without Brad's sponsorship; handsome, muscular, athletes from rich families, who never suspected the scandalous truth of their friends' private activities. Jim noted with some satisfaction that, although he liked the guys, and was thrilled to be one of them, he was sexually attracted only to Brad.

He also noticed that, outside their dorm rooms, Brad never seemed to acknowledge in even the subtlest of ways, the secret passions they shared in private. They never talked about their relationship on any level. When they were at home alone Brad would simply approach Jim, usually already nude, with his big cock swollen and stiff, and ask, "Hungry?" Jim's answer usually came in the form of a moan as the hot flesh slid down his throat. After sometimes long spans of passionate oral intercourse, the two would adjourn to their own beds without a word and fall asleep in silent frustration over the lack of extra-sexual intimacy.

As Thanksgiving approached Jim told Brad that he was expected to go home for the holidays. He had completed all his school requirements early and wouldn't be back until the first week in January. He wanted to say that he would rather stay with Brad and feast on his Butterballs, but didn't. So the day he was to leave Brad woke him up with his morning meat dangling in his face. Jim sucked the monkey for the entire morning, bringing Brad to a record four orgasms without losing a boner. Brad stroked his hair more lovingly than he had ever noticed before, and even as the fourth orgasm trickled to a weak finish of thin jism, Brad tried to prolong the session still more, begging Jim to give him just one more rim job before he left, pulling himself up on all fours and spreading his cheeks with his big hands. Jim gave him a few good licks up and down his sweaty crack before he kissed each cheek and left. His own cock ached as he drove out of town, and he played with it, thinking of how much he already missed Brad, till he came in his pants, almost swerving into a ditch.

Two weeks passed without any communication between them, when Jim's mother called him to the phone. It was Brad, trying to make small talk, as they asked each other about their holidays. Soon the conversation died, and there was a long, awkward pause. Finally Brad said, "Well, I guess I should go."

"Yeah, me too. I'm glad you called," Jim replied.

After another long pause Brad whispered, "I miss you."

Jim looked around guiltily to see if anyone was nearby, before responding. "Me too."

"I miss what you do to me," he continued, even softer.

"Me too."

"My dick is hard right now," he panted.

"Mine too," Jim returned, checking once again for eavesdroppers.

"I miss you so much. Come back early."

"I'll try."

"There's a big party at Steven's house tomorrow night. Can you come to that?" Brad pleaded.

"I'll try," he repeated. "I gotta go."

Jim was flabbergasted. He couldn't believe that Brad had finally verbally acknowledged their relationship and told how he felt. He was on cloud nine. He dashed into the kitchen and told his mother about the party, asking if it would be OK for him to go.

"I guess so," she said, "but you can't spend the night. You've got to be back here for church Sunday morning. And why don't you take Mary with you? I'm sure she'd like to meet your roommate. He's such a handsome boy... and from such a nice family."

Nothing Jim could say could change his mother's mind. He knew that she was only sending his older sister to keep an eye on him at a wild college party, so he and Mary left the next afternoon for the two hour drive back to his horny lover. They barely spoke on the trip, but Jim did have the good sense to call Brad from the car phone to warn him that Mary would be with him. He knew that Brad would probably be waiting for him at the door without a stitch on for a quickie right there on the floor.

The three of them went to the party together in Brad's MG. He arranged for Mary to ride in back, and as soon as he was sure she couldn't see he took Jim's hand and placed it on his thigh. Jim could feel the enormous, hard cock through the thin slacks where it ran down his leg, and he gave it a firm squeeze and stroked it a few times before withdrawing his hand.

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