Tasty Sailor Dude

By rich bundner

Published on Feb 16, 2002

Gay

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About twenty years ago, I lived in Philadelphia for a number of year. I lived near the Naval Base and used to pick up sailors regularly. In those days it was much easier to pick out the navy guys than it is today. Most of the boys were probably straight, but once I was able to get their confidence it wasn't difficult to get them to go with me for a quick blow job.

The most memorable experience I had was picking up this one young seaman who was shipping out the next day for Europe. He had just gotten off the bus from a two day ride from Wisconsin. He was gorgeous, a little on the pale side but healthy looking with nice rosy cheeks . He wore dungarees and a T shirt. I'm telling you, this boy was a real knock out. He had that clean cut look as though he had just come off the family farm. I treated him to lunch and we seemed to get on quite well. His lingo was a little strange and he kept calling me "mister" which I found odd because I was probably only five or six years older than he, but I guess that seemed like a lot to someone as young as he. As we ate I noticed he kept looking at every girl under fifty that went by and a couple of times I caught him grabbing his crotch under the table. This gave me an opening.

"Horny?" I asked.

"Hell, yes," he said. "That old bus had my balls juggling for two days and there was no where to stroke it."

"How would you like a blow job?" I asked, nonchalantly.

This seemed to startle him, but then his hand went to his crotch and I knew I had him. We finished eating silently, I guess, because we were both thinking of what was to come. As we left the restaurant, he said, "Sure, why not?" as we started walking to my place.

When we reached my place, I held the door open for him and got a good look at his butt for the first time. He had that perfect male body with slim hips and dimpled ass. I almost pounced on him right then and there. After I closed the door to my apartment, I took him into my arms and kissed him on the neck. He had that fragrant but fresh smell that young men have. I felt his erection press against me and I knew he was ready. I like to blow guys when they are standing up so I quickly pushed him up against the wall and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly. Then I sank to my knees and hooked my hands in his skivvies and with one quick swoop stripped him of his clothing. His rigid prick sprang up and slapped me sharp in the face.

Whoa, I couldn't believe my eyes. His boner stuck out a good eight inches, straight as an arrow and very hard. A creamy foreskin stretched over the head of his pale prick and puckered in a little rosebud at the end. At the lip of his foreskin, a drop of dew had leaked out. Taking his perfect organ in my hands, I licked up the drop of syrupy pre cum. Unable to resist the urge to see what hid beneath that creamy skin, I slowly peeled back his luscious foreskin. An instant scent, musky and exciting, rose to my nose, and I was surprised to see such an accumulation of smegma. I mean this guy was a real creamery. And from the look and smell of it, this wasn't just smegma, this was grade A Wisconsin dick cheese of the quantity and quality that only young men in their prime can produce. In awe, I looked up at him. He seemed embarrassed and rather surprised at the amount of smegma that had accumulated during his two day bus ride and started to pull away from me.

"I've got cheese, mister, let me clean up," he blushed apologetically.

Without answering, I took hold of his rigid prick and stripped the foreskin all the way back. Slowly I began lapping up the sebaceous treat, savoring its creamy texture and reveling in its deliciousness. The act of my cleaning his cheesy prick seemed to set something off in his head. His prick started to throb and seemed to rapidly enlarge. The tight foreskin collared behind the plum sized head, chocking it until it had become a bright crimson.

"I'm gonna jazz, mister," he cried out. Before he had completed the "mister," a spurt of cum blasted me right in the eye. I swooped down on his exploding prick and, without swallowing, tasted him for the first time deep within my stomach. I pulled back a little to savor his remaining load, but I could not contain it. His hot juices bubbled out of my hungry mouth in what seemed like an unending orgasm. I pulled off his throbbing prick and was startled by a blast of hot piss right in the face. Seeing what was happening, I quickly swooped down on his still pissing prick and drank up his tasty offering. After his flow ended, he spoke.

"Sorry, mister, I can't stop from peeing after I jazz. Girls don't like it so I don't get much sex, but I figured if you didn't mind my cheese you wouldn't mind," he said innocently. Having once before met a fellow who couldn't control his pissing after ejaculating, I found his story completely plausible.

As his prick softened, I took as much of it in my mouth as possible and gave it a thorough washing, enjoying the best cream cheese that to this day I have ever had.

After he showered, he sat on the couch in the nude while we had a couple of beers and talked for a long time. His ivory skin wrapped his sinewy body to perfection. I loved the way he'd occasionally rub his hands over his trim torso. A thin line of brown hair directed you from his navel down to his pubis which he would occasionally scratch. Once he even fingered his shit hole but blushed sweetly when he noticed that I had observed him. He started to get up to take a piss, but I stopped him.

"How about that blow job I promised you," I said. He smiled and spread his hairy legs. I knelt down in front of him for what I knew would be a memorable experience. I took his soft prick in my hand and admired the velvety texture of his youthful organ. I missed his musky scent but enjoyed the thought of giving him a real blow job this time. The foreskin now hung quite a bit further beyond the head. As I began to manipulate his sensitive skin, the first signs of tumescence appeared. The head ballooned under its tight hood and at my coaxing, just barely peeked out. How I longed to have more of his creamy smegma, but I knew there would be no more left. Just to be sure, I peeled back the tight skin and ran my nose over his exposed glans. Not a trace of cock cheese, but already a steady strand of pre cum had started to leak from his now hardening rod. I quickly went to work and started to give the best blow job that I knew how. I'm telling you, I had this kid moaning like you wouldn't believe. I fingered his virgin anus and he jumped but then moaned again and allowed me to continue. I craved his scent and after playing his shitter for a while brought my finger to my nose. What an incredible fragrance this boy had!

The smell of his shitter really got me to sucking his fantastic boner. His rod had now became so rigid that his tight foreskin resisted sliding off the engorged head, so I sucked him with his hood up. I spit on one finger and rammed it all the way up his shitter. His prick suddenly started to pulse and I knew his orgasm had been triggered. By time he started crying "oh, oh, mister.....," I had pulled back so that that my mouth contained only the head of his hooded prick. I could literally feel his pulsing pricked in my mouth as he quickly ejaculated jet after jet of sweet cum. Swallowing his cum, I waited for the taste to change from sweet to acrid. With both hands, I held his still rigid organ as it then began to release a steady stream of piss into my waiting mouth. His piss was frothy this time and tasted of beer. I drank gustily, not wishing to miss a single drop. After the flow had subsided, I looked up at him. His eyes were closed and a slight smile resided on his handsome face as though he had reached the highest state of contentment in his young life. He reached for his softening prick and pinched his foreskin with his fingers. It quickly ballooned out as he found a second urgency to relieve himself.

"Quick, quick!" he exclaimed, but by time my face got close to his prick, the balloon burst sending a spray of hot piss across my face. We both laughed with delight and he called my "piss face." I never felt more complemented.

I gave him a clean set of underwear, wanting to keep his worn set to recall this unique encounter of my life. He dressed quickly, hugged me and said "Thanks, mister, that was the best blow job I've ever had," and left, never to be seen again.

The End

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