Hungry for Lunch

By adam perry

Published on May 1, 2015

Gay

This story is fiction but based loosely on an incident that occurred about 20 years ago. If you would like some visualization to accompany your reading, email me at adamperry1@msn.com. The pictures are not, of course, the real Nick and Owen but they do convey what they may have looked like.

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HUNGRY FOR LUNCH

CHAPTER ONE

I'm Owen, senior class, Whitman High School. My 18th birthday was yesterday. I'm waiting, sitting on a stack of old gym mats in a disused commons room, top floor of the oldest building on campus. Staci had given me one of the few the keys during morning history class. Lunch hour had just begun.

I hear a key turning from outside in the deserted corridor. The door opens to admit Nick Jackson. He relocks the door and stands there staring as if he is appraising me. I was certainly appraising him for about the one hundredth time since we were freshman together. I know his birthday is the same day as mine. Is that a good omen? Nick is just under six feet, slim, athletic body, light brown hair with golden glints and piercing green eyes. His face is well shaped and clear. He is wearing his standard gear, jeans, t-shirt, flip-flops.

Nick is not the handsomest boy in school or the best athlete but he carries a charge of sexual magnetism that attracts lots of girls and more boys than you might imagine. It's his attitude, the way he moves with a virile grace, the apparent confidence in his sexuality.

He walks over and perches on the mats near me.

"So this is where you and Staci hook up," I say.

"Yeah," he replies. "A couple of times a week, I guess. I text her when I want her here."

"And she always comes?"

He grins. "We both do."

"So you and Staci are best friends or what?" he asks me.

"Yes, for years."

"Cool. I know gay guys often have women as best friends or, like, fag-hags."

I look into his eyes. "She tells me everything, every last detail about what you guys do here."

"That"s excellent," Nick says. "She says that you may want some of the same."

My erection began the moment he walked into the room and now gets even harder. I glance down to see my crotch start to tent. So does Nick.

I ask whether he hooks up with guys very often.

"Dude," he replies. "Some shrink diagnosed me as an extreme narcissist and total sex addict. I love to be worshiped. I love be in control. Plus, I love to cum. Lucky for me, my body attracts people. So when it's a guy and he knows how to pleasure me, why the fuck not hook up?"

His frankness is a bit overwhelming. I'm still stalling.

"So Staci started to meet you here after a pool party, she said."

"Yeah, half the people were skinny-dipping. Not Staci. I guess she felt little too chubby for that. But I did notice her eyes were constantly on my swinging dick or on my butt. I was not surprised when I got a text from her saying she wanted to make me feel good, anyway she could."

"I had already scored the key to this room from my cousin who graduated from here. Brendan and his homies used to come up here to toke and make out with girls. So I got the key copied and gave one to Staci."

"I'm totally naked the first time she shows up here. She wants to see how big my stick gets when it's hard. She starts stroking me with her hand but I tell her to use her mouth. She's down on it like a flash. Not the best BJ I ever got; she's kind of sloppy and over-eager. But I'm into the situation and I nut huge in her mouth. Soon as she spits out my jizz she starts to head for the door. I go, 'if you want to do this again you gotta build up to it, give me more tongue, swallow my sperm."

"A few days later she texts me to hook up here again. After that, we get together when I say so. Couple of times a week, like I said. Staci gets better and better at blowing me. When she does a truly killer job or when I'm feeling way generous I let her take off her clothes and I fuck her. She's all grateful for that because she knows I usually only fuck the hottest babes."

"Hey," Nick says. "Enough time, talking man. You here to suck my dick or what?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Your girlfriend says you are way dope in giving head. Course she doesn't know: It's only what you told her. But that means you been blowing lots of guy. Are they gays like you or regular dudes like me"

"Mostly gay guys from school. Two or three college guys. But none were so hot or," grudgingly on my part, "so beautiful as you."

My compliment obviously pleased him. Since he had become a varsity athlete I had not been able to admire Nick in the showers after PE. Now he slipped off his tshirt to show an upper body of classic proportions; lightly sun-tanned with broad shoulders and slim hips, well-defined arms, a taut belly with a jewel of a navel, and sculptured pecs topped with nickel-size brown nipples that stuck up hard in the center. The hair on his arms was blonde and sparse, his chest was hairless but a darker path led south from of his belly-button and continued under the waist of his jeans. His back was equally smooth and muscled, swept down to tidy waist. Flanking the small of back just before the rise of his buttocks (still covered by his jeans) were dimples in his flesh that seemed to be pointing at his ass. The jeans were slung low on his hips; so far no strip of whiter skin, so skinny-dipping obviously was his style.

He stood in front of me, looking down, waiting. Finally "So you want to take off my pants? I know some people get off on doing that."

I unbuttoned the fly of his 501s and started to pull them down over his slender hips and sinewy thighs. His white briefs surprised me; jocks tend to wear boxers. Nick's crotch bulged impressively. Staci had told me he was well-hung but she may have under-estimated. He kicked off his flip-flops and stepped out of his jeans.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" I asked him.

"Man, do what you want. I don't give a fuck." He paused. "But yeah, I do wanna see your stick. Your being chubbed up means you got the right attitude."

I loosened my pants and pulled out my cock so that my erection showed. He glanced down at my throbbing six-incher, confirming what he already knew about my lust for him.

He pulled my head toward his groin. I could detect a faint odor of sweat and the strong aroma of testosterone that emanated from his still brief-covered genitals.

"Can I take these off you now?"

"Do it."

I pushed the underwear down his legs but did not confront his nakedness until they were lying crumpled on the mat near his feet. I must have gasped when I finally saw what he was offering me. He grinned as if my admiration was only what he expected.

Nick's junk was perfection. Five inches of flaccid cylindrical shaft and a perfect helmet-shaped head. No blemish or scar. A bluish vein just visible under the surface. The color of his penis matched the rest of his body, its head a little pinker. His urethra was gaping open to eject a large drop of clear pre-cum. His testicles were about the size of plums, the left hanging a little lower. His pubes were neatly trimmed so that the base of Nick's cock was visible. His scrotum had only a faint fuzz of brown hair.

"Staci keeps me trimmed. I go over to her house and she shaves me there. In back too. Check it out."

He turned his back to me. I took in a pair of perfect small, hard, smooth buttocks. He bent at the waist and pulled his glutes apart to show me the bottom of his crack. Not a hair visible from his taint to the small of his back. His anus was as flawless as his genitals. A small puffy pink donut around a vortex of wrinkly flesh that led to his tightly clenched sphincter. As I gazed at his asshole, transfixed, he winked it at me showing me the darker pink, the inside of his rectal opening.

He turned his head to tell me, "You get to touch it, you get to taste it, nobody gets to fuck it. You read me"

"Of course," I reply. "I never dreamed of fucking you. Staci said she rimmed you when you told her to."

"Right. But it was not her thing. She did it just for me. No technique if you know what I mean."

He stood up straight and turned around to face me. He noticed that my boner was harder than ever. His was beginning to engorge too. It was starting to rise and looked now to be about six inches long and was noticeably thicker. I would learn that it eventually extended to seven and a half inches.

"So nobody has ever rimmed you the right way?"

"Not so far." He smiled. "But you might be a candidate. I want to feel the tongue way up inside my asshole, like exploring in my rectum, tasting what's in there, loving the inside of my bod as much as they love my dick. Is that you"

Instead of answering I showed him my tongue, which is fairly long. The sexual understanding between us was now clear and there was no need to discuss it further. I was there to serve in any way he wanted. His body, his pleasure, his orgasm were paramount. Nothing else mattered.

(Depending on readers' feedback I may add another chapter to HUNGRY FOR LUNCH. Email me at adamperry1@msn.com if you would like to learn what happens next to Nick and Owen.)

Next: Chapter 2


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