A Cappella 5

I unbuttoned then unzipped the pants, reaching my hand into the fly and grasping a king-sized prick that was a gorgeous scepter just screaming to be turned into the most comfortable of thrones. We both let out sighs as that moment came: he had waited for minutes; I had waited for months. Already my standards for what I would savor had risen, so I wasted no time in yanking the line of his boxers over his cock and pulling them down with his jeans. I threw them off the couch and took a moment to gape at his beautiful, adorable piece of meat. I had eaten filet mignon before, but this particular piece had been hot for so long I was sure it would be quite well done, while, as a find, it was certainly most rare. "No time to think," I thought, and dove straight down onto him, sliding my tongue along him as my mouth covered it all. A deep bass rumble reverberated from Ben's diaphragm.

"Oh, yeah, Billy boy. Just like that, oh, yeah, this is fucking amazing and just wonderful and don't stop, please, please don't and just.yeah.oh, Christ, yes!" His sentences turned to nothing as he grabbed the back of my head with a delicate yet strong hand. He held me in place while he slowly thrusted down my throat. When I was twelve, I had read a book about Harry Houdini, and how he could hold things in his throat and move them up and down within it. He practiced by tying a potato to a string and trying to move it around, using the string as aide, if necessary. Already a proclaimed homosexual, I took this advice to heart and executed my potato exercises daily. I used the results on Ben, much to his delight.

"Holy Mother of fuck, Billy! Where did you learn that?" I would have answered, but I figured Ben would rather save that for later. I kept manipulating his prick in the shallower depths of my ribcage.

Soon Ben's moaning picked up, his cock stiffened, and his balls moved in towards his body. He screamed his last, a nonsensical sound (I could just picture Henry Higgins asking Colonel Pickering precisely how many vowel sounds he heard), and shot a thick, creamy load into my awaiting mouth. I lapped it all up, loving the taste, the idea, and the sight of Ben, spent and relaxed above me.

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I sat up, proud of a job well done, so to speak, and looked at my work. Ben's eyes were a little glazed and goofy, his skin flushed with returning blood. I crawled on top of him and pressed my mouth to his; our tongues stopped fighting and started to play. He playfully bit my lip and pulled his head back. "You ready?" he asked, with one eyebrow cocked. Was I ever! To have that mouth on my cock, to have that deep voice and its vibrations shaking my loins was the most wonderful thing I could fathom this side of heaven. "God, I can't believe you're going to suck me off," I muttered almost unwittingly.

"Suck you off? I have better plans than that," said Ben as he lifted himself onto his knees and pulled off my pants. He bent over the couch (my Lord, what an ass!) and produced from his pocket a condom and a tube of lube. Now, I had blown guys before and fooled around with a lot of them, we'd even fingered each other up the ass, but I had never fucked a guy.

"Um, Ben, I'm not quite sure about this. I've never done this before.I mean, I've been with other guys and all, a whole bunch of them, and we've done lots of fun stuff.I've just never taken a guy up the ass." Ben didn't answer; he simply moved close to me

and panted in my ear, something that turned me on so much because it tricked my mind into thinking that there was a wild animal yearning to get inside me. "I want you so much, Billy. I've wanted you for so long and I'd do anything to have you, babe. I'll be your servant, but oh, man, little pig, let me in. I was hoping not to have to blow your house in. I'd rather help you build that house of sticks. Come on, you sexy, sexy bitch."

I was too hard, way too hard and horny to resist anything. I responded by falling to my back and lifting my legs over Ben's shoulders. Ben, instead, ducked out from beneath them, grabbed my hips and flipped me over in one swift motion. My ass faced him, where I would rather my face faced him, and I would have complained, but I then felt a warm tongue on my asshole. I gasped. Most men I knew were too creeped out by the idea of rimming to execute it. Ben had no qualms and no flaws in his technique.

My ass fluttered with pleasure, and it was very sad to soon feel the cool air. The cool air was followed by cool lube, which he worked into my ass with one, then two (ouch), then three (eek!) fingers, pumping me until I loosened enough to accommodate him. I heard the tearing of the condom package, and I braced myself for what was to come. He entered slowly, but the pain was substantial. I grunted harshly, to which he responded, "It'll be worth it, Billy, believe me." At that point, his head popped in, he slid in the shaft and he held the position for a few seconds as I adjusted to the new addition to my internal organs.

Ben started to pump, and the pain turned to a warm and deep pleasure inside me, varying in waves with his motion. Suddenly he reached some resonant frequency.no, it was just my prostate, and I moaned uncontrollably. Noticing this was a hot spot, Ben pounded harder and my penis reached its hardest. Then it got even harder, and suddenly, with one hard punch against the prostate, it exploded all over Ben's soft couch. Simultaneously, I felt Ben's meat stiffen and then pulse in orgasm inside me. I waited for him to slide out. When he did so, I turned over and lay on my back. He removed the condom, tied it off and mimicked a fadeaway into the garbage on the other side of the room. "He shoots, and he scores!" Ben shouted. "He sure did," I punctuated, kidding him lightly on those beautiful lips. "That was great, Billy. Thank you." Ben smiled and hugged me to him.

"The pleasure is mine." I grinned at the man. My anus was empty and cold, but my heart was full and warm. We kissed again, one more sweet kiss before Ben mentioned our rehearsal tomorrow and how we should get some sleep. I put on my clothes, piece by piece, and left Ben's room as he strutted naked into his bedroom. "That was the best hour of my life," I thought as I sunk into my own bed and fell into the deepest, warmest sleep of the year.

I whistled my way to rehearsal. I actually whistled, wait, I actually whistled "Zippety-doo-da." Yup, the layer of air I floated on was so thick that I could flutter corny Disney tunes through my lips and not crash down into reality. I had had him.had I had him? I had, and I had not been had. "Hello!" I screamed to the custodial staff. "Good morning!" I shouted to the ugly kid who stalked everyone. "Wussup, dude?" I hailed my physics professor. Boy, man, hot dingitty-dang, I felt like Ned Flanders. I sauntered into the rehearsal building, saw the chalk writing on the door: "HD: 203" and hopped up the stairs into room 203 where almost all of the Dogs stood chatting. The last one to come in was Ben. I flashed him a subtle but certain grin as his eyes flickered toward me. He didn't respond, but I agreed that it might be best to keep our relationship under wraps until it had developed into something more stable. We wouldn't want the other boys getting involved if we were to get into a bit of a fight early on. Those sorts of things can split groups; I've seen it happen too many times.

So we rehearsed for three hours, and Ben didn't give me more than a casual side glance that rehearsal. As we hopped out of the building, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, how's it going?" I flashed him another killer grin.

"Well, kid, well," he rumbled as he pat the back of my arm and smiled slightly.

"And don't forget," shouted the pitch, "jazz a cappella, best co-ed group on campus, this Friday night at eight!" Right, this Friday at eight.I should invite Ben to come with me. Or, maybe, I could instead play "cooler than thou" and go stag. He'll be there; I'll just sit down next to him, casually. "You'd better show, Billy boy, and support your local jazz!" The pitch punched my already abused arm and ran forward.

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